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urbs-in-horto · 9 months
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oooo pretty lights. Who knew Sheffield and Clark could look so good?
More info on the epic flyover rebuild here at Industrial History
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artistmacposts · 1 year
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#CTA #train CTA Track Straightening Progress, June 9, 2023
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i learned what are the most mysterious places in the world
Marree Man – The fact that there is not a single witness to the creation of the Marree Man speaks to the absolute isolation of central South Australia. Somehow in 1998, one person or a group of people were able to create a 2.6-mile long line drawing of an aboriginal hunter, without being seen. In the midst of barren, arid land in South Australia, the Marree Man is the largest geoglyph and work of art in the world. Cut into the harsh landscape with lines over 115 feet wide and one foot deep, the towering Marree Man is easily visible from space. Thirteen years after the Marree Man was discovered during a flyover, little is known about its origin. Although we may never know the true origin of the Marree Man, it is certainly one of most intriguing modern day mysteries.
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Chocolate Hills – Bohol Island in the Philippines during the dry season, you might notice what looks like thousands of chocolate kisses protruding from the terrain. These mysterious conical mounds are known as the Chocolate Hills. There are approximately 1,268 individual hills, their heights ranging from 100 to 160 feet, though the highest is almost 400 feet high. The hills, which are almost all symmetrical, consist of grass-covered limestone and turn brown during the dry season. Despite the abundance of hills, it is unclear how they were formed. There are multiple geological explanations ranging from oceanic volcano activity to limestone weathering. Numerous legends and tales also exist to explain the Chocolate Hills.
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Giants Nest – In 1949 a geologist named Vadim Kolpakov discovered a large mound of limestone in the north of the Irkutsk region in southeastern Siberia. The cone is curiously shaped with a crater at the top and a small mound in the center. The mound is about 40 meters high and 100 meters across at the base. The smaller mound at the top is about 12 meters high. The crater was named Patomskiy, after a nearby river, but local residents call it “the Fiery Eagle’s Nest”. Since the discovery of the crater, there have been many theories as to what could have created it. For a long time it was believed to be a meteorite impact structure. Some linked it to the Tunguska meteorite, whose remains have never been discovered. But the crater does not resemble any other known meteorite site. Even now, the origin of the crater is not discovered.
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Richat Structure – In the midst of vast, vacant Sahara desert, just outside of Ouadane, Mauritania, lies a 30-mile wide geological oddity known the Richat Structure, sometimes called the “Eye of Africa.” From space, this natural curiosity forms a distinct and unmistakable bull’s-eye that once served as a geographical landmark for early astronauts as they passed over the Sahara. Once thought to be an impact crater due to its circularity, the unusual formation is now widely believed to have been caused by the erosion of a geological dome formed by pressure from a bulb of molten magma below.
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Plain of Jars – The Plain of Jars is a collection of large stone jars interspersed throughout the Xieng Khouang plain in the Lao Highlands. The stone structures are mostly made of sedimentary rock and, ranging from 3 to 10 feet in height, each can weigh up to 14 tons. To date, the origin of the jars is unknown, though archaeologists believe that they were originally used between 1,500 and 2,000 years ago. Many researchers have theorized that the jars may have once served as funerals urns or food storage. As local Laotian legend would have it, the jars were created by Khun Cheung, an ancient king of giants who lived in the highlands. It is said that Cheung, after fighting a long and victorious battle, created the jars in order to brew huge amounts of celebratory lao lao rice wine.
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Giant’s Grave of Coddu Vecchiu – Giant’s or Tomba Dei giganti, are megalithic gallery graves that were used as public tombs during the Bronze Age. The massive gravestones were built by the Nuragic civilization, which existed in Sardinia from the 2nd millennium BCE. to the 2nd century CE. Despite the imaginative name, the sites were not the burial site of any giant; they were giant community burial chambers. Though we know the tombs had a funerary purpose, more questions remain. Little is known about the rituals or traditional beliefs that motivated their construction. Were they mass graves? Were they built to facilitate the journey into the afterlife? Since their existence has yet to be justified by scientific research, they have been credited to the supernatural, which has only increased their mystery. Legend also claims that yes, indeed, these were the tombs of powerful giants.
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Zone of Silence – Pilot Francisco Sarabia was flying over a patch of desert land in Mexico when his instruments started to act increasingly odd. The man had to make an emergency landing in the middle of nowhere. Little did he know that this "nowhere" would be later dubbed "The Zone of Silence.” Weird radio silence isn't the only oddity of the creepy Zone. Like, what’s that weird trio that locals keep meeting in the Zone? They’re two men and a woman. Every time people see them, they’re wearing bizarre clothing that isn't suitable for a journey in the desert whatsoever. On top of all that, the Zone of Silence is known as a 50 km patch of deserted land where meteorites come crashing down on an eerily regular basis. On July 11, 1970, the US launched an ATHENA rocket from the Air Force base in Green River, Utah. The rocket was supposed to land somewhere in the area of White Sands in New Mexico. Instead, it went off course and, as if being pulled by some external force, crashed right in the heart of the Zone of Silence.
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Michigan Triangle – Stretching from Ludington to Benton Harbor, Michigan and to Manitowoc, Wisconsin, the Lake Michigan Triangle has inspired numerous accounts of activity that are difficult to explain by rational thought. The mystery began in 1891, when a schooner named the Thomas Hume set off across the Lake to pick up lumber. Almost overnight in a torrent of wind, the Thomas Hume disappeared along with its crew of seven sailors. The wooden boat was never found. After the turn of the century, strange events happened at steady intervals. Of the more mysterious is the case of the Rosa Belle. In 1921 eleven people inside the ship, who were all members of the Benton Harbor House of David, disappeared and their ship was found overturned and floating in Lake Michigan. While it appeared that the ship had been damaged in a collision, no other ship had reported an accident and no other remains had been found.
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Alaska Triangle – The Alaska Triangle is a place in the untouched wilderness where mystery lingers and people go missing at a very high rate. The area began attracting public attention in October 1972, when a small, private plane carrying U.S. House Majority Leader Hale Boggs, Alaska Congressman Nick Begich seemingly vanished into thin air. For more than a month, 50 civilian planes and 40 military aircraft plus dozens of boats, covered a search area of 32,000 square miles, but no trace of the plane, the men, wreckage or debris were ever found. Afterward, more planes went down, hikers went missing, and Alaskan residents and tourists seemed to vanish into thin air. In fact, since 1988, more than 16,000 people have disappeared in the Alaska Triangle, with a missing person rate at more than twice the national average. These disappearances are blamed on everything from severe weather to aliens, to swirling energy vortexes, to an evil shape-shifting demon of Tlingit Indian lore called Kushtaka, with no scientific explanation to the disappearances till today.
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The Initiation Well – The Initiation well is 88 feet deep well located on the land of Quinta da Regaleira. Actually, it was used for ceremonial purposes. There is another small well near this well. Both these wells are connected by tunnels. The larger well contains a 27-meter spiral staircase with several small landings and the smaller well contains straight stairs that connect a series of ring-shaped floors to one another. The smaller well is also called the 'Unfinished Well'. The depth of this larger well is equal to the four-storey building, which becomes narrower on going closer to the ground. It is believed that there is some kind of light comes out from the well inside the ground and comes outwards. Surprisingly, there is no system of light inside this well, then where from this light comes, it is the secret. Anyone who comes to visit here, always raises the question of where the light comes from inside the well? Till today this secret is unsolved.
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(Image Source : Google)
Thanks for Reading.
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eckswizi · 2 years
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For those of us out there who long for good rapid transit and walkable cities in car-centric North America, it can be really easy to doomscroll and it can seem that America is completely incapable of divorcing itself from car culture. But I want to let you all know: right now, at the end of 2022, it’s a great time for rapid transit. So much new construction is going on as we speak, and many new projects are almost finished. I want to go through some of the new projects that have opened over the past 12 months, or will open sometime in the next 12 months, and I want to remind you all that good transit is possible, and is becoming more of a reality with each passing day.
Here’s the most significant new construction from the past year:
The DC Metro finally opened Phase 2 of the Silver Line extension, a long awaited line that extends the DC Metro into a well populated part of Virginia. Additionally, the extension has a station at Dulles International Airport, one of the most major airports in the country.
The Los Angeles Metro opened the first half of the new Crenshaw Line (aka the K line), adding a whole new line and 6 new stations (7, counting the new lower level at the existing Expo/Crenshaw station). The new K line returns service to an area of Los Angeles that had not seen passenger rail service in several decades. The second half of the extension is still under construction, and will connect the K line to the existing C Line as well as LAX.
San Francisco’s MUNI Metro, the system that operates SFs light rail, trolley, and cable car systems, opened their brand new Central Subway. The Central Subway travels roughly North-South through the heart of the city, perpendicular to the existing Market Street Subway. The new subway line will provide service to the densely populated but underserved Chinatown neighborhood, among others.
A whole new system opened this year! Honolulu just opened the Honolulu Rail Transit, operated by the HART, is the first major rail rapid transit in the US to feature platform screen doors and driverless trains.
The MBTA (Boston) just opened the final phase of their Green Line Extension! The GLX, as it is called, brings rapid transit service to the heart of the densely populated town of Somerville, MA. 7 new stations opened as a result of the extension, with one station being rebuilt entirely!
During the summer, Amtrak extended its Ethan Allen Express route to Burlington, Vermont, with two stations in between. The extension returned intercity rail service to Burlington Union Station and the heart of the city for the first time in about 50 years!
The Long Island Rail Road (LIRR; NYC), North American’s busiest regional rail system, completed a project which improved its mainline by adding a third track. The third track is a much needed improvement that allows for more efficient and frequent train operation on a heavily used corridor.
Tempe, Arizona opened a downtown streetcar earlier in the year. The line goes around downtown, and makes the city center more easily walkable, as well connecting to the Phoenix Valley Metro.
Minneapolis opened their new D Line BRT service, a rapid bus service that is but a small part of a massive ongoing transit plan for the Twin Cities
Chicago opened a new flyover junction for the Brown Line, which will speed up and improve service on the Brown, Red, & Purple Lines
Upcoming
A whole new system is opening soon! Honolulu, Hawaii is soon to open the first phase of their new driverless elevated rapid transit. It will be the first non-tourist passenger rail in the state in several decades!
The LIRR will soon open a massive new underground line that allows trains to access Grand Central Terminal in the heart of Manhattan. The new terminal will also relieve pressure from the over crowded Penn Station.
The NYC Subway (MTA) has received its first shipments of its new R211 subway trains, which will be a much needed new fleet of modern rolling stock. The new trains will fill the gap left by the retirement of the 59 year old R32s. Additionally, the MTA also received several sets of the R211T, a variation on the R211 which includes an open gangway between subway cars, like an accordion/bendy-bus.
Seattle’s Link Rapid Transit is currently making major progress on several new extensions, with most of them estimated to open around 2024. The existing line will be extended in both directions. Additionally, the existing line will be complimented by a second line! There will be a total of nineteen (19!!!) new stations, as well as six (6) new stations on the Tacoma Streetcar!
CalTrain, a commuter/regional rail system that serves the San Francisco peninsula, is electrifying their system. When completed, it will bring faster, quieter, and more eco-friendly rail service to the SF Peninsula. Ignoring rapid transit, CalTrain will host the first electrified main line passenger trains to operate west of the Mississippi in several decades.
The TTC (Toronto) is currently making huge progress on their newest train line, the Line 5 Eglinton. It is a brand new light rail line that will have 24 stations along Eglinton Ave in Toronto, and will have connections to the Line 1, Line 2, and Line 3.
The TTC is also constructing the Line 6 Finch, another brand new light rail line north of Toronto! It will run west from the Line 1 along Finch Ave, and will have 18 new stations!
Montreal’s new REM (Réseau express métropolitain / Metropolitan Express Network) is almost ready to open its first phase! The REM is a new light metro line that has one line and three branches, with twenty-six (26!!!) new stations. The line will connect downtown to the airport and several major suburbs.
The MBTA is currently constructing a new commuter rail line that, on two branches, will provide service to Fall River and New Bedford, two notable cities on the south coast of Massachusetts.
Vancouver’s Skytrain is currently working on a massive new expansion of their Millenium Line to travel west and serve a densely populated but previously underserved section of the city.
The LA Metro is currently working on a new subway tunnel through downtown that will connect the A, E, and L lines. When the project is completed, the E and L will be merged into one line.
Mexico City is currently constructing a new commuter train to traverse the heavily traveled corridor between Mexico City and Toluca.
Construction is currently ongoing for the Southwest LRT Line in Minneapolis, a large extension to the currently underserved southwestern parts of the Twin Cities
Calgary is currently most of the way through construction on their new Green Line, which will be the third Light Rail line to serve the region.
Ottawa’s Trillium Line is currently closed for modernization and is expected to reopen this year
Chicago has an ongoing project to overhaul the infrastructure on the aging Red and Purple Lines
Additionally, there have been *countless* new stations constructed and a multitude of other minor construction projects that will have some major effects. Here’s some highlights:
The SEPTA (Philadelphia) added Wawa station to its regional rail system
The MBTA is currently most of the way through construction on a new station to serve the city of Pawtucket, Rhode Island
In the fall, the LIRR opened a new station called Elmont-UBS Arena
NYC Ferry established a new service to Coney Island
A new platform at Baltimore Penn Station
Much, much more
Lastly, let’s not forget the fact that a massive number of new transit lines and rail extensions have opened over the past few years, including major openings all over the country. I’ve definitely forgot something, and the fact that I have is because there is so much that has come out of 2022. We’ve come a long way, but we still have a long way to go. From where we are, rail transport and public transit in North America is only going to improve, and I can’t wait.
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captnbas · 2 years
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day 22 of folkbruary- stone circle
out of all the stone circles on the isles, i have the most intimate relationship with stonehenge as a result of spending the past year and a bit squatting land nearby in protest of the proposed road expansion and tunnel within the world heritage site. to be in the company of the stones is a truly awe-inspiring experience. the lines between millennia blur, and the space is considered sacred by many across the world. they truly are everyone’s stones, which is why i want to raise the alarm on what our government is up to.
for anyone unaware of what’s going on, the governmental transport body National Highways (formerly highways england) are gearing up to start work on expanding the a303 around stonehenge, which is just one of their many destructive road expansion schemes currently underway. involving the construction of a new dual carriageway, a 4.5km long tunnel, expanding the roundabouts either end and making new flyovers. Despite a high court judge ruling against the project on environmental grounds in 2021, highways are currently handing out contracts to construction and security companies (to take on protesters). autonomous activists continue to hold ground nearby, raising awareness of the environmental impacts of road expansion projects like this.
key issues with this project:
-road expansion & the climate crisis. pretty obvious really. construction companies actively add to carbon emissions with the high use of oil-powered machines, the felling of ancient trees, hedgerows and grasslands and concreting over large swathes of land (most of which is only used in the construction process then sold off as ‘brown sites’ to developers).
-also new roads = new traffic. it’s a documented phenomena, called the ‘induced traffic effect’. if you want to reduce traffic, we should obviously spend this money on improving local public transport schemes.
-a little known fact about the stonehenge world heritage site is that it is the largest untouched chalk grassland habitat in Europe. there are many species native to or reliant upon these plains, such as the adonis blue butterfly, kestrels, hen harriers, etc. that are directly threatened by this scheme.
-UNESCO have warned that they may revoke World Heritage Status if the plans go ahead. In doing so, this opens up the land (especially all the brown sites that they will create with the road project) to developers. Further habitation loss and destruction of sites of archeological interest will follow.
- there’s a chalk aquifer beneath stonehenge that has been supplying humans living on the plains with water since the end of the last ice age. It has also been crucial to the preservation of archeological artefacts in the area. The tunnel plans will bore directly through it, affecting the delicate hydrogeology of the entire site. Untold artefacts will be lost, and carcinogens from the chalk will leak into the local water supply, rivers, etc.
this ended up being a pretty long post, and the first of this nature I’ve made since making this blog, but i couldn’t draw a stone circle without bringing light to the fight on our hands right now. for more information, updates and petitions, check out stonehenge alliance’s website:
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okpow · 2 years
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NFL Week 6 2022 PICKS AGAINST THE EVIL LAS VEGAS POINT SPREAD
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(above: Tyler Lockett has a stroke or something)
If I lived in a state that allowed sports betting I WOULD BET THE UNDER ON BASICALLY ALL SEASON LONG RB RUSHING YARDAGE TOTALS BECAUSE EVERYONE IS HURT OR WILL GET HURT.
49ers at Falcons - 49ers favored by 5 points
It’s here friends. The George Kittle eruption game. I do not buy the Falcons as anything more than a bottom-feeder. 49ers cover bigly.
Patriots at Browns - Browns favored by 2.5
Damien Harris is out this week because he’s a hurt RB so expect HEAPING LOADS OF RHANANDRE STEVENSON OR HOWEVER YOU SPELL HIS NAME. Belichick humiliates another former QB in Jacoby Brisket. Patriots ON THE ROAD ON THE MONEY LINE WITH A ROOKIE.
Jets at Palatial Lambeau - Packers by 7.5
Part of me is tempted to just say Jets on the money line and get real wacky but alas I cannot. Buy it down to 6.5 and the Packers win - this is another case of Actual Pretty Good Team vs Team That May Be Good Kinda But Not Really In the Big Picture. Zach Wilson has sex with someone’s mom post game :-/
Jags at Colts in AFC South Purgatory - Colts by 2.5
Does Jonathan Taylor do stuff this week? Probably. But so does Christian Kirk. This game has weird sneaky shootout potential and I like the Over on 42 points scored. Neither team is actually good, however.
Vikings at Dolphins - Vikings by 3 on the road
The Dolphins are.... doing something.... at QB.... or something.... some guy who is the third stringer behind the Samoan and the black guy with the gloves. Anyway THE DOLPHINS HAVE BEEN EXPOSED AS FRAUDS AND WILL CONTINUE TO BE EXPOSED AS FRAUDS as Justin Jefferson goes ham.
Benglas at Saints - Bengals by 3 on the road
Another yummy heckin dome game with weird teams! The Saints have basically no healthy players at the moment and Olave, if he plays, will get like 20 targets. THEIR WR SITUATION IS THAT DIRE. Bengals.... I guess?
Ravens at Giants - Ravens by 5.5 ON THE ROAD
APOLOGIZE RIGHT NOW TO THE GIANTS HEAD COACH FOR BEING A GOOD COACH. Young fella has to be the front runner for Coach of the Year I reckon. Giants lose but it’s like 24-20ish meaning they cover. Lamar Jackson has a 50 yard TD run. Saquon probably gets hurt. Part and parcel.
Bucs at Steelers - Bucs by a MANLY 9.5 ON THE ROAD
More home dogs for your consideration but please don’t actually consider them. Steelers get rolled on and Young Pickett lives up to his last name and throws a bunch of INTs. Tom Brady mainlines the blood of a four year old on the bench and throws a tablet at his toddler blood supplier for this week’s supply not being up to snuff. Bucs roll.
Panthers at Rams - Rams by 10 points at home
Baker Mayfield isn’t playing this week, not that it matters. Holy fuck the Panthers are a disaster. Another non-competitive ass whooping but this time from a home team. THERE IS NO WAY THE PANTHERS KEEP THIS GAME CLOSE.
Bills at Chiefs
I think everyone in flyover country is expecting a 55-52 shootout or something but alas it’s not to be. I’ll take the Under on 54 points.
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marmarinou · 3 years
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Brown Line's Flyover At Belmont Begins Service Friday Morning
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davebuckleslefthand · 3 years
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Martial LAW ??? LOGISTICALLY IMPOSSIBLE.. 
there are not enough troops in these USA to go                                                and attempt to implement Martial law over OUR United States.
June 30, 2013 at 4:06am and still the rumble under                                                                                    the table makes one think:  “What if?”
EVEN IF THE RUSSIANS AND THE CHINESE AND THE ENTIRE                      UN MILITARY FORCE SHOWED UP...
So many of you have been fed disinformation that the Obama Cabal                are waiting for us to act so they can declare Martial Law. This becomes          the reason you use to permit yourself to be in bondage now. Its like a slave  who thinks 
“I cannot rise against the master because                                                            he is just waiting for a chance to whup my ass."
Anyone who feels that Revolting and exercising our rights to resist Tyranny,    will give the Government the reason to impose "Martial Law" read this; carefully.
I am telling you unequivocally...
"That line of thinking is exactly what they want you to think!"
It's a RED HERRING"
NATIONAL MARTIAL LAW? 
LOGISTICALLY IMPOSSIBLE IN A COUNTRY OUR SIZE....
"NATIONAL MARTIAL LAW"?  IMPOSSIBLE TO IMPLEMENT! 
Do not use that as the excuse to exercise your rights!
IF WE TAKE UP ARMS AND FIGHT AGAINST TYRANNY... 
OBAMA WILL IMPOSE "MARTIAL LAW". 
The "cowardly nay sayers" say. "Do not do that"; "Let them fire the first shot".
Good grief how many times have I heard these pathetic lines. Too many times.
Patriots. 
Lets rationally analyze this OK ?
What is Martial Law ? It is the exercise of Government and Control by Military authorities over the civilian population of a designated territory.
"Designated Territory" get it. There is no army in the world that can impose Martial Law over all of AMERICA. The country is too big. It is logistically impossible. Some cities? 
Yes... 
a large area? Maybe.
They will delay Martial Law if it ever comes until they have confiscated your guns. Do you know why they want gun registration and then gun confiscation?
So that they can control large areas. Right now it is IMPOSSIBLE.
Why ?
1. 100% of the Military will not go along with Obama's illegal declaration. There will be a mutiny in the military. So about 70% will take their arms and munition and join the American Citizens... creating huge holes in the logistical supply chains for the remaining enforcers. 2. The PEOPLE will be against them so there will be limited safe havens for the enforcers and they will have to move in large convoys reducing their tactical ability to control large sections or land. 3. The most important point is that there will be return fire. 
Patriots have guns. LOTS OF THEM.
Here are some consoling and awesome statistics. There were 13.7 million hunters in the United States                                        over age 16 -- 12.7 million of whom used rifles, shotguns                                  or handguns for hunting, according to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service.
That means hunters constituted only 15.9 to 18.1 percent of the estimated     70-80 million gun owners in the U.S. in 2011 --- the latest year for which statistics are available.
In a Dec. 28 national report, USF&W said 13.7 million individuals over age        16 self-identified as hunters, and that 12.7 million used guns (shotguns, rifles    and or handguns) while hunting.
Another 2.9 million hunters used antique muzzleloaders to hunt, but according to USF&W, there is overlap between this figure and other figures due to them reporting.
Around 4.5 million hunted with bows and arrows.
The National Rifle Association (NRA), meanwhile,                                    estimates there are between 70 - 80 million American s                                    gun owners as of the January 2011 stats; these are over a decade old.
Those 70-80 million gun owners had in their possession almost 300 million firearms, about 100 million of which were handguns.
America's Hunters:  The Entire World's Largest Army.
The state of Wisconsin has over 600,000 hunters that got permits this (2o11)
Allow me to restate that number: 600,000
Over the last two months, the eighth largest army in the world - more men under arms than Iran; more than France and Germany combined - deployed to the woods of a single American state to keep the deer population under control.
But that pales in comparison to the 750,000 who are in the woods of Pennsylvania this week. Michigan's 700,000 hunters have now returned      home. Toss in a quarter million hunters in West Virginia, and it is literally          the case that the hunters of those four states alone would comprise the    largest army in the world.
And that is just FOUR states.
The total population of registered hunters in America today ranges from 23 million to 43.7 million individuals. (Based on annual data provided by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service.) As long as the American Hunter retains his right to Bear Arms, America will forever be safe from imposition of Martial Law and a Military tale over if we all stick together.
AN OBAMA FORCE STANDS LITTLE CHANCE TO BE ABLE TO IMPOSE MARTIAL LAW GIVEN THESE STATISTICS.
So cut the crap that Obama wants us to do something so he can impose Martial Law. We must not be afraid to act when the time comes.
Some additional stuff to consider:
Strategically... be prepared for the Government to shut down the internet and possible all cell service. In retaliation Patriots will knock out all Cell towers and TV Towers so the State Run Media will not be able to transmit their propaganda.The News paper printing presses will be destroyed and so in the end ham and shortwave radios that will be used by Patriots. I hope most of you guys have ham radios. The Government will have their emergency broadcast system so they will be able to communicate very effectively. Patriots will require undercover "runners"!
The Government does not have the man power to put more than 5 -6 Major Metro areas under Martial Law... and since 55% of the Law Enforcement Officers are Oath Keepers, Count on them coming over to our side.
Strategic highways into the cities are needed to truck food into most concrete jungles in the inner cities since food can only be trucked in. The Government will spend a lot of resources trying to make sure the population who is still supporting them are provisioned. When their provisions run low... they will riot against the government too demanding more resources and this will spread their resources even thinner.
UN and foreign troops may move in but they have less skills in the US countryside and while they may be effective in the cities they will not be sent out into the suburbs.
The African American troops will only venture out into the countryside on suicide missions since even if they are not loyal to Obama they will be perceived to be due to to the extensive race baiting by the cabal and as such are pretty much useless except in the urban areas. They will be kept out of the standard confrontation theater.
So who will be fighting then ?? A limited Military force with a lot of very high tech weaponry... but we are not in uniform so Patriots will be very difficult to distinguish from the population. They will be in uniform because they have to stay together and ID each other.
Coins and "barterable" items need to be stocked because paper money will become a semi useless in most areas. Understand that there will be retaliation so families need to be kept in safe haven areas. They will consider cutting of power and water supplies to Patriot Enclaves but they will have difficulty controlling the RED STATES.
The Blue State Metros areas will riot on their own because they will be in short supply of all basic requirements since all their stuff needs to be trucked in.
Its going to get hot but we will win once we get started. Martial Law or not!
The Command and Controls for Patriot zones are already in place and all that will need to happen is the "Link up"
Additional Info from @John A Brown:
The country has 4 million square miles of land, 4 million miles of paved roads, 150,000 miles of railroads, thousands of miles of navigable rivers.
What is their significance? Every bite of food, every drop of fuel . . . not to mention every single electronic communication of every kind . . . has to pass along these routes and EVERYTHING in that inventory of needs and services either originates in, or must pass through our States... the so called "Flyover Country", i.e. red states and red counties.
WE WILL STOP THEM IN THEIR TRACKS!!
Stay alert Patriots. SHARE AND KNOW THAT WE ARE ALL NOT ALONE... 
THERE ARE OVER 100 MILLION LIKE US...
BEHIND EVERY BLADE OF GRASS!
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driftwork · 4 years
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dinner at 8 - a representation of pure corruption...
There was a slight break in the monotony of driving southwards along the motorway, only the high speed of the drive creating difference , until she drives round the long downward curve that gives meaning to the drive and transforms it into joy. It is hardly surprising that when she goes around a long curve she lets out a sigh of joy and accelerates still faster as they begin to travel along the upward curve, accelerating towards the unreachable heavens. She remembers being affronted by New York, wishing for water to rise and flood the city, annoyed by the rigid chess board of lines and squares without a single curve. The line she was driving was extravagant which reduced the prosaic moment so that she felt able to speak about her day, transforming the moment as they approached the airport and drive under the runway, a plane taxiing across the motorway, the drive like a dance in the growing dusk. Anti-photons falling, beginning to hide the  countryside. She accelerated into the dusk crossing the flow of traffic into the outside lane only then the following cars melted away.  The growling noise of the engine. She told him she was thinking of buying a car tomorrow afternoon. She slows down on a long curve to the right as the traffic from another motorway merges from the left. Drifting over a lane to slow down. They talk about how much money she has,  she confesses that the long phone call she'd had during the afternoon with the bank, had left her much richer than she'd thought. Telling him she had thought they knew about the account but they obviously didn't. She explained it was in addition to the money they'd gifted her in exile. That she'd be moving some of it into local banks, they'll be sending bank officials, a director tomorrow with dna and finger print authorization and testing kits. She likes the way he doesn't care about the value or the amount of the money. She slows down as they drive onto the sliproad, keeping to the northbound carriageway and as the southbound carriageway bifurcates away to the right she accelerates onto the dark road to the north. He asks if its safe to keep the money. We can symbolically gift it if we ever need to negotiate with them. The pleasures of love are in its curves, its chaotic meandering, without which it would little more than instinctual drives, the movement of soft fleshy pistons, they were endlessly involved in the loops and strings of seduction, red threads of cotton tie them together. The dress fluttering in the evening breeze, a leather jacket lined with kelvar gracefully removed and hung on a chair. The gentle distractions of a bare shoulder, an eye looking at you from a tattoo, the deceptively soft muscles of her forearm.  The long straight towards the city, main beams on, 110 miles an hour, transitory things, allowing his eyes to watch the light reflecting from the glass and the intense focus of her face as the roads streams by. As she slows down on the flyover drifting down towords the legal limit,  she wonders if the people following them will find them [...]
Their destination is a double fronted three story white mansion, with brick walls around the garden and a carriage drive, she parks by the lawn, there are three other cars in the curved carriage drive. The house is 25 metres back from the road. The drive is lit by lamps set 3 metres apart along the top of the walls. There are manicured bushes, trees trained against the old brick walls, other shrubs and bushes set in the green lawn of the island. One of the brick walls is being maintained, some bricks are being replaced by matching antique soft red bricks. The rest of the wall is being repointed. There is movable scaffolding to enable the work to be done carefully and safely. A sign announcing who the company and workers are.  They get out of the car, their feet crunching on the gravel of the drive. They are observed by cameras, images recorded and transmitted.
The front door opens before they press the doorbell. His boss invites them in and takes them into her office. She sits them down on the sofa, another man, a colleague of his comes in and sits in a chair next to her [...] She looked at the two of them, the woman in black dress, leggings and black ankle boots, a multicolored necklace in pastel shades from pink and yellow through to blues and purple. Her skin and tattoos glow in the soft golden light, he is sitting next to her. She realizes that what is bothering her about him is that he seems happy though recognizes he is stressed. She takes the photographs out of the brown envelope on the table and places them in a row in front of them. They are photos of Park holding a gun shooting at someone who is out of frame, he is behind her off to her left a bag hanging off him. His face clearly recognizable. She taps the photograph with her finger "what is this ?" She is about to speak but he leans forward and puts his hand on her arm.  He asks in reply "What it is?" She explains they have video of you killing people. Wait she says her hand palm out towards them. Tell me why they don't want you back Sam and Park. He looks at the photo and then explains that he is very sorry but that things just got out of hand and... she looks at him, feeling slightly amused because of the way Park is looking at him. Park explains  that she has been sent into exile. She asks for a reason why she shouldn't send her back. They are both looking pale and unwell. "Boss" She heard the hidden pleading in his voice. Park shuddered. If I return to Japan or the locality, they will kill me and under the terms of the sacrifice agreement they will kill him. She put her hand on him. She explains that she cannot have that. Why?. Because my being here is conditional, if I had stayed they would have killed him as a sacrifice,  I can never go back.  The police there know this, they will never ask for us because of the exile contract. Why happened? Politics, turned into a war internal to the council. One seat of which is the police. Two or three factions targeted me, he saved me. We ran, were chased, we escaped, people died. The cost was exile or sacrifice. Sacrifice was unbearable so we came into exile.  That's it he said taking her hand, it's us. Fuck, the other man said. What do you think frank? He sighs, the noise almost echoing in the silent room. The sound of other people talking in the kitchen can just be heard. He picks up the photos and drops them back into the envelope.  Terrible definition. I don't know who these people are, any facial recognition software would fail to  to recognize them even after the upgrade. True, useless software. Your back at work on Monday. You be good. Whilst your here, nothing illegal Park and I mean nothing. She looked relieved. Thankyou... Jean, call me Jean. They have to call me boss. I think you and I can do better. Thankyou Jean. Can I ask how many died ? Best not he said, we are police and the Tokyo people are council. She nodded accepting his logic. Lets join my husband and Frank's wife for something to eat. Frank dropped the envelope with the photos and the and the video into the waste bin. You look like you need a drink Sam. I do. Frank smiled. This conversation never happened, there is no video and will be no photographs,  however silence will cost you 2 nights off or perhaps 3 nights of babysitting. We'll do babysitting Park said with a smile. i like babysitting, i used to have a niece... They looked at her. You have a deal Park. So on Monday... Frank looked at them thinking that had gone well. You are working on a long term smuggling ring and a financial fraud, both of which have been running for months and they are not getting anywhere. Frank is taking over some murders. I am ?. Yes, one of which is a particularly unpleasant serial killer. Blame it on Park... My department just got much bigger and you guys need to sort out some of the detritus so I can make it work. Your both getting promoted. Park follows her into the kitchen whilst they begin to talk to her husband and his wife. Can I help ?  She thanks her for looking after him for me.  She looked at Park surprised but beginning to see why he was happy.  He's my friend as well as working for me. I'm pleased you brought him back in one piece. Two pieces I'm guessing. Yes it's we... Her husband brought the tray of vegetables to the table. She could sense his amusement and recognized that the two of them were the cause. He handed the bottle of Chablis to frank who was looking conspiratorially at abigail. "Oh stop it." she said feeling irritated. They laughed. "I'lll brief you on the new roles and departmental changes... Ï'll show it to you tomorrow. There was a major restructuring going on whilst you were there. Incidentally Tokyo asked us to check some financial outflows. Really what sort of money ? Park asked.  She liked the way she looked at him. Some 3 to 5 hundred million vanished and they are trying to trace it. Park looked amused, well we haven't got it... Abigail asked her about the dress. We went shopping yesterday and I bought this and some other clothes. Since we are staying here I thought I had better buy a wardrobe.  It's a lovely dress. How could you afford it ? She looked embarrassed after asking. Park smiled at her,  it's OK. I'm quite rich. Since I've moved here permanently I brought some money with me. I have to work out what to do with it.  Park shifted in her seat slightly towards him. He dropped the glass, she caught it spilling a little white wine onto her dress.  She hands the glass and what remains of its contents back to him. Not even aware of the surprise, perhaps even shock at the reaction they witnessed. We have the bank coming round in the morning. She says answering Jean and her husbands unspoken question. She turned back towards Abigail, conscious that they are all looking at her. Thinking this is a good time to confess that she is now becoming part of the reason, ideology of the bourgeois project.  I also own part of a company, Kawabarti, through a holding company. Now that I'm here, will have to get involved in running it.  Kawabarti, aren't they going IPO soon ? They were. I'll stop that until I know they have done nothing which is illegal, I don't want anyone to arrest me because I've been a silent investor, now that I live here. I suppose I shouldn't say that because I'm at a table with police. But its supposed to be absolutely legal and now that I live here with you, he was still looking pale, drink she said, her hand on his arm,  its ok.  I have to make sure it is... I thought I was going to faint with shock just then.  I don't want to complicate the experiment better to get all the trivial problematics out in public. Fair, i think the amount of money is a bit of a shock he said.  Experiment ? Jean asked, fascinated by the way they were being. He looked at Park. She nodded, Go ahead.  We committed to a year to see if we could live together. We thought we could run it as an experiment, I am very hopeful, though this bit of chaos. I would have told you today anyway about this.
Out there the enemy awaits them as they circle round during the sorties, perhaps they are paying a distant homage to earlier dogfights, the bend in the nights landscape,  the engine growling in the black night, three digits on the speedometer, in the distance a storm flashes, forks heading down towards the ground. Not caught unawares they race towards the motorway junction that will take them north, lightening flashes. The junction lit by a flash of lightening on its far side like a flash from a giants  camera. The lights are off at the junction. They follow the curve of the slip road, slower now as they run into a wall of rain. The road shimmers in the rain, water washing away the day. The better to make them feel, the the caress of his had stroking and holding her leg, a page turns as we read a book in the domestic space, is the caress erotic? She doesn't know. She lacks knowledge of such things she thinks, having spent too much time killing people to know. Later, in the not to distant future he will say to her that reactionaries cannot understand a thing like a caress because for them its always about power. But in the here and now as she accelerates up the hill onto the orbital she has no goal but the pleasure of the hand on her thigh and a successfully navigated bend,  and here she smiles as we have avoided another violent ending. Nothing beyond the  smile it brings to her lips,  one that he thinks resembles happiness. If we could live our lives likes this, successfully negotiating curves we could be happy...
[ ...well that was interesting her husband said. Jean looked at him quizzically.  He'll never cheat on her. Pouring vodka shots into crystal glasses. She'd probably kill him if he did. The four of them laughed. More seriously if we betrayed him after this, she'd kill us as well Frank said, i do like her [...] they talked about them sipping the vodka and drinking tea and espresso into the middle of the night [...] They sent a sealed file from her yesterday,  it was sensibly passed to me unread, it's heavily redacted but enough to know who and what she is, it makes interesting reading. He probably doesn't know, nor even care based on this evening,  Abigail interjected. They have asked us keep tabs on her and him. I think they are frightened in case she goes back. Thank you she said to her, I needed someone else's opinion.  Her husband wondered how much money she'd brought with her. This was the only way I could think of to stop them running. I will destroy the file, thank them for it and tell them we will deal with it...]
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quietasitskept · 6 years
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Saturday soup and I spill out.
written at Peak Gallery, during a 2 day residency. December 2018
on the strongest days I, On the strongest days the Things spill out of me and I wonder how these spills were once are contained. I sit on it and try to push to back in. The liquids leak out of me. Heavy rush of water on my feet and dripple through my toes. Its sticky But (breath in and out deeply) Breath in, breath out I spill out From all spaces I spill out from all spaces Softer where I was once hard Hard where I was once soft Lines And curves and softness DEEP BREATH
I eat the soup. We leave the home. Smells linger and breakfast doesn’t think it has the strength  to pull the wicker basket. Open doors that lead nowhere without access and stepping through anyway. I plan to take what I can. Planets stuffed up and down sleeves. We did these things together. Planets stuffed down throats. One Jumping down stairs and shuffing the front of new shoes and being happy. No more perfect and immediately the pressure releases. Pressure cooker with black eye peas for tomorrow’s rice but first soup. Hold on, There is One jumping down stairs and keeping flat feet. The sky is grey purple and it’s warm out there, also inside where the metal has turned liquid and the concrete has started its care of me. I accept, it’s everywhere and it offers support. Fortified for the week ahead. As if a stomach can do that. The wisest west based road gleams and reflects the silver cars which blind me. The maze makers hand reaches out but I pull away. My taste buds extend out of my body and connect with the tarmac. Its glossy and my knees thanks it. Its cold and I am hungry. I spill out from all of these spaces DEEP BREATH Where once Long once Where peace? I ease and I slid down into it Some peace I slide down When it squeaks And it rubs And I squash Aaaaah ,I spill out all of these spaces And I relax and I feel small hands Oh and now, I spill out from all of theses places. And I merge and I know I will spill out of all of theses spaces The body betrays you The body warns you
I eat the soup. I go through the red block flats and walk my feet over the boulders, no body lives here, just, the stones encased in the cement that protect the tree and greet me whenever I pass. They massage and ease what is to change me. I walk full height under an estate turnstile. My brother next to me. This is first cleansing stop along the way. One only available while still young in body. We look at each other and laugh whenever we do it. The skies are coloured. Not yet blue. We can see the name of things. Why didn’t we stay the night before? The journey to Saturday Soup is complicated and full of memories of people you do not know. Ghosts with cutlasses that protect you and eyes that reprimand the refusal for Saturday Soup with meat. Till I met me. Give them yam, cassava, plaintain, green banana, dumpling, hard food, give them pumpkin, cristafine/cho cho, red peas, spring onion/scallion, thyme and mixed island language and confusion from the start.
`Minds and not your own will tell you these parts are normal. But, oh I spill out of these spaces You know that taste. Bitter. After cramps, whether from f or a. Just what do you hide from?
Golborne road to collect the carrots and onions that are here today. This road is pastry and baked custard and Africa north.This road is slight and close to Swaylick tower that dances in the wind and invites me every now and then. Those are the days that the cranes in the canal come up to dance with their horrid teeth and tell  stories of what happen underneath. Who took Tracey? And who would Hannah have become. All of this for Saturday soup which by 11 ( find out anniversary gift for 11 years) already feels heavy in mouth and reminds me of all the things that I now encase with glass of love but once refused. Cleansing point number two. The grain feeding woman’s voice follows over head saying “ to straighten the crooked, you must first do a harder thing- straighten yourself. I blink and eat the silver that is poured into me. It’s thick. I am small, really small because there is so much left over. The bend becomes deeper. And in the background: No sun will shine in my day today, No sun will The high yellow moon won’t come play Darkness has covered life and turned day into night, I decide to eat the bridge. Its tastes like Saturday soup, without the meat. Concrete. I wake up on brown hands. Soft like concrete and understood as Grandad. I eat the soup. Above the ground, sitting on a compressed bamboo bowl, big enough for the split seed maze maker, the protective ear biter and the city’s only dead pigeon crier. Visiting Morroccan uncles. Who are ageless and the grandfather to the ear biter.  picking up sweet potatoes. The white ones. Former and better for foundations. The sky is flaky and doesn’t answer the call. The number is 0181 969 7298 and besides that, immediately the sky joins us in what becomes a large dumpling with margarine nestled in the centre. Its tasty. Concrete on the edges after being reheated. We  intimidate the clouds, they are not happy with our joining them and protest with storms of thunder, lightening and rain and deep purple sky curtains. This is cleansing point 3. I wake up. I eat the soup. The space under the flyover where the giants live painted into a wall turns into an enormous train carriage/bus seat and the patterned seats talk to me. I am instructed to lift the seats and find money. £50 notes stacked in bundles. I use the money to buy the ingredients for soup. The giants give me a large pot  made of the remains of one mans dreams and his daughter. I cut the ingredients with my tongue. And sit to watch it cook.This soup has meat. Oxtail. I wake up. The giants carry the pot of soup for me. We go nowhere. Forever.
And the tone of my voice has changed and will not go back. Praise has entered and I no longer regurgitate. Repulsion no more. Nappy. Can you take it? The description of this body map, this body Whose afraid to hear the tales of this soupy body? In this place, with its spills, its liquid, its actions. Now tell me, whose bored of the story of soup. But I get back to the living.
I wake up.
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What do you want?(3)
length: 2900 words
trigger/warnings:  mention of death, graphic violence, blood(nothing too graphic or explicit yet), curses(because it’s Bakugo)
summary: Buddy Cop AU
a/n:  Deeply based on @soyunpochoclin idea, and headcanons for this honestly awesome AU
Honestly, you could skip this part, it’s not that plot-relevant besides the first part of it, but I had this idea and had to write it. So I hope it’s enjoyable anyway, it was fun to wirte so I hope it’s fun to read! <3
<–2nd part - 4rd part–>
***
Bakugo didn’t look up, he didn’t have he almost could feel Kirishima’s beaming happiness from his desk. Neither took Kirishima to sit on his desk.
“Morning Blasty!” Throwing a small pile of files over Bakugo’s own papers.
Maybe it was the fact another partner in the office had heard Kirishima call him that stupid name or that his butt was on top of Katsuki’s hand but anger boiled with ferocity in his eyes. He pulled his hand with forces and stare back up to Kirishima, who jumped at the action.
Once he looked up, “Sorry man, I didn’t notice.” Kirishima was smiling apologetic, almost ear to ear, eyes slightly squinted his scar standing out.
The anger reached boiling point, where it was no longer about to explode instead it evaporated only leaving smoke left to cough.
Maybe it was too early to deal with this shit.
“Just sit in a fucking chair, Shitty hair.” Bakugo finally said in between his teeth, pulling back the chair next to him that Ejirou willing ignore at first.
Kirishima bounced on the chair when he first sat down(practically jumped), “Oh come on dude! I used your nickname!” He was dangerously close to Bakugo’s face, he could basically hear Kirishima’s voice making eco inside his scalp.
Katsuki thought about blowing Kirishima’s face out of his personal face, he settled for pushing it away instead, “And I fucking told you not to.” Finally, he looked down at the files, “What the fuck are these?” He opened them, Kirishima helpfully pointed out the recognizable face.
She looked younger, definitely less crazy, a little crazy behind monotone tone that usually comes in school pictures. But similar to know it was her, “Himiko Toga” Katsuki clicked his tongue, laid back on his chair.
Ejirou opened the rest, not as familiar faces but it was hard the guys that almost killed him.
“Most of their of their information it’s here, except this guy’s name…” He pointed a blurry picture, although it was undeniable the blue matchstick, “…for his scars it’s easy to see he’s up to these days but not who he used to be…” Kirishima slowly explained.
“And the hell it’s all this information for?”
“Well, honestly…it’s not for much…” Ejirou lets the files fall into the desk again, and sits back too, avoiding the face Bakugo it’s probably making. “Most of this information it’s old, well..all but one.”
“Blue torch.” Kirishima laughed because it just amazed Bakugo’s creativity for coming up with nicknames.
“Yeah,” He nodded, Bakugo turn to him, “Again he is easy to spot. We have information from a place he seems to frequent a lot in the past weeks.”
“Then what the hell are we waiting?” Bakugo clicked his tongue, annoyed.
Ejirou’s face fell in indecision, “Well…it doesn’t really open during the day, neither it’s a cop-friendly place per say…”
Katsuki growled in response, and dig himself in his seat. He knew what that meant.
Someone had to infiltrate whatever nightclub and scrape for information.
Now, Katsuki was very good at his job. He was competent, determinate, observant and a perfectionist, which made him a very good cop and detective. But people were never his strong suit, he avoided infiltration jobs like a plague; though it seemed there wasn’t a way around this one. When he turned to Kirishima he founded a solution he wasn’t happy about either, he had to leave it in someone else’s hands. Which in his head was almost as bad.
Once everything was arranged, Ejirou was pleased with their plan. They would be connected through a microphone, Bakugo would wait in the car just in case of any unexpected situation and he would go in with a fake story and to ask around for information.
He could see Bakugo’s frustration though, “It’s fine dude, I won’t let you down.”
Katsuki looked at Kirishima’s face, he dug for insecurity or a lie, he didn’t find any. He rolled his eyes, “Don’t get so full of yourself hair for brains.”
I know, he thought but something in his stomached twisted.
“There’s a littl too much irony in that sentence Blasty.” He laughed over Bakugo’s complain, instead he took his phone out. Ejirou jumped at the sight of the hour, “I’m late!” He stood up and picked his things up fast.
“Oi…” Katsuki tried to call, but it didn’t seem to go through that thick skull, he just kept running around, “Spiky!” He grabbed Kirishima’s arm as he went to pick up the batch on the table, “What the fuck do you think you are going?”
Ejirou slowed down for a second, “Oh yeah…I forgot to tell you…I’m sorry” He gave Bakugo an apologetic smile, “I asked for the free afternoon, my little brother has an activity today at school and he needs someone to go so…I’m going!” He laughed nervously, already reaching for his neck, “But don’t worry! I’ll be back tonight, I’m not bailing.”
“Tsk.” Bakugo rolled his eyes, finally letting Ejirou go. He stood up and took the keys of the car of his pocket, Ejirou just stared blankly. Once Bakugo reached the door, he turned around, “You coming or are you prefer being late?” Kirishima smiled at him, beaming again. Katsuki had to turn around, but he felt Kirishima running behind him.
They shouldn’t use the car for personal activities, but Ejirou didn’t say anything(he doubted anyone would).
***
Katsuki knew Kirishima lived somewhat far away from the station. Mostly because it wasn’t where he worked in the first place. Katsuki didn’t pay much attention to his co-workers, but with someone as obnoxious as Kirishima he doubted he wouldn’t have noticed him at the very least. Kirishima was temporarily transferred because the case seemed to evolve both territories, also because he had been late 2 out of 3 three days they’ve been working together.
He was right, in car, it was maybe a 40 minutes drive, it was around an hour on train. When they finally reached the apartment building, it was like any other, grey and inline with others. Katsuki half expected Kirishima to leave in one of those neighborhoods that exceeded in color and noise, unlike the rest of Tokyo. That only left its own color scheme at nighttime, where it was showered with life. Not even inside his apartment, it was like that though.
It was small, filled with warm browns and deep reds all round, slightly disorganized; someone had given up on cleaning leaving toys scattered around. A couple of pieces of simple art on the walls, but mostly old familiar photos decorated the living room. But the presence of an infant was the strongest, with the toys on the floor and unfinished art projects. If the Disney song that filled the apartment wasn’t enough of a clue.
Though Katsuki only realized all of this after he had taken his attention of said infant in front of the T.V. singing with all the power of lungs, kicking, punching and twirling a broom in exaggerated movements. He had no shirt on, and his hair was bright red too, shorter but it was definitely standing in the same over-gelled style.
Bakugo was about to roll his eyes, just when he heard Kirishima singing on his right, catching up to the song.
“…Swift as the coursing river…” he started at first softly, still, the kid turned around and smiled big.
“Be a man!” He yelled as he started running towards Kirishima.
“With all the force of a great typhoon!” Kirshima received him with open arms, before picking him up and twirling him on the air.
“Be a man!” The kid was laughing, holding on to Kirishima strongly.
“With all the strength of a raging fire! Mysterious as the dark side of the moon!” They ended together in a long messy note until the music fade away in dialog.
Katsuki rolled his eyes. Once he settled them back on Kirishima, the kid was on his shoulder. They finished laughing, and stare back at Katsuki.
“Blasty, this is Haruto, my little brother” Immediately the kid’s face lit up. Beaming. Katsuki’s face twisted, they look too much alike for his taste. “Haru, this is my partner Blasty.”
The kid first opened his mouth but stops and instead, whispered it on Kirishima’s ear. Whatever it was, it makes Kirishima smile wider(it beats Katsuki, how that’s possible) and it couldn’t been good, that much he knew.
“Yeah! That one!” He nodded and his brother’s face just opens in happiness, he glares quickly at Bakugo’s eyes and goes back to whispering something to Kirishima. He simply nods this time before turning to Bakugo, “He asks if you could show him your quirk.”
Katsuki hesitates for a moment, not for the request but for the weird interaction and the overall softness in Kirishima’s voice, “Whatever,” He ended up saying. Taking his hand of his pocket, lifting his hand to let small explosions flyover.
This time the kid not only stared at Bakugo, almost starstruck but also exclaim out loud. Before he pushed his weight forward, Ejirou quickly understood and walked up to Bakugo. Who looked tense and almost ashamed, which honestly made this whole experience better for Ejirou. He leaned until Haru could touch Bakugo’s hand. He stared at it at first, for a moment then lined the creases of his hand, Ejirou smiled at the amused face of his brother and the slight pink color in Bakugo’s cheek.
Katsuki had to look away, it was uncomfortable. But sadly, and he had to learn quickly, he couldn’t blow kids off; much less Kirishima’s. He seemed like the guy to kill for his family by the stupid look on his face.
“My brother didn’t lie…your quirk it’s so manly!” He finally talked, to Bakugo, holding his hand with a little more strength than before with both of his little hands. When he turned to face the kid…yeah they looked too much alike. Just less scared, less damaged Katsuki supposes but certainly too similar.
“Yeah, I know brat.” He pulled his hand back, and turn away again, “Weren’t you supposed to be somewhere or we are just wasting time?”
Both Kirishimas straighten their backs in realization. Haru almost slides down with little of Ejirou’s help and runs off to a hall in the back of the room.
“He really wanted to meet you, when I told him I had a new partner.” Ejirou smiled tendered, then laughed looking down as if remembering, “At first he was mad, he is used to Mina…but then he got all excited when I told him your quirk and the persecution…” He looked back to the room in time to find his brother with a shirt on, running towards them. To side hug Ejirou. “Ready little man?”
“So what do you got little brat?” Katsuki knew it was the wrong thing to ask, a shadow fell into both of the boys face.
“I…I…don’t have any…” Haru barely muttered, his gaze lock in his fidgeting hands.
Katsuki’s face twisted at the sudden memories and bits of the pass the filled his head.
To his credit though, Kirishima recovered quickly, smiling again, picking back his brother up, “Who needs a quirk, when you have a brave and manly heart!” He smiled again brightly.
“Yeah!” His brother matched.
“We know it’s not common anymore but…it happens every once in a while, from what the doctor told us.”
“Tsk.” Bakugo complained, and Ejirou stared at his face. He seemed conflicted in a way, looked away to the wall, “I know someone like you,” he muttered in between his teeth, “I am sure if a nerd like Deku can stand in the same place as me, I am sure so can you.” Katsuki made sure his tone was annoyed because he was, but Kirishimas seemed to be immune to it.
Since it just went over their heads, now decorated back again with wide sharp smile, “He is a cop? Like you? Can I meet him?” Bakugo clenched his teeth.
At that moment, he looked back at his mind; his younger self, yelling about how he had fallen to talk well about Deku. He sighed as he walked to the door, the kid walking around him beaming happiness and hope. Mirror memories of shattering hope and desperate cries, but that was a long time ago. He had learned that there wasn’t any pleasure in being the best by putting down others. So instead he patted the kids head and answered his questions.
Once Ejirou left Haru on the back, he sat next to Bakugo at the front. He turned to catch Bakugo staring, just before Bakugo could turn away, he s mouthed a thank you. Which Bakugo barely took, only grumbling in response.
***
“Okay then,” Ejirou caught up to his brother, walking towards the entrance. He was surprised to find a disappointed face, “What’s up -or down- little man?”
“It’s Bakugo not coming?” He kneeled down and patted lightly his head, around the spikes.
“I’m afraid not little man,” He smiled apologetically.
Not looking forward to stay in a room with rowdy kids. He had explained when Ejirou leaned into his window.
Haru pouted and crossed his arms. Before glancing back at Ejirou’s eyes and running to the car. Ejirou tried ti call him but he didn’t stop until he was standing on his toes, next to Bakugo’s window. Bakugo looked down, tired at the kid. At first he rolled his eyes, but then he frowned down. Then he looked angry and opened the door, the taking Haru from the waist and lifting him from the side with no care at all.
He was fuming by the time he walked in front of Ejirou. “I’ll fucking show you who’s the best.” It was the only clue Ejirou got to whatever conversation they had, enough to get him out of the car, that and the pleased face of his brother.
Ejirou didn’t complain, simply followed inside. Haru gave Bakugo directions until they reached his classroom.
It was small and filled with handmade decorations, probably by some underpaid teacher. At the moment, filled with more people that usually handled; with parents sitting on little chairs or standing around an excited child, some even playing with their quirks.
At the moment, it struck him, “Kirishima, what are we doing here?”
It was a family activity, parents shared about their jobs, “But my mother couldn’t leave job, so that’s why…” He looked both ashame and proud and Katsuki wondered what the hell was he doing there?
It only took a couple of presentations sitting on a stupid red chair for Bakugo rethinking the question and regret every decision he had taken today. It only deepened when it was the Kirishimas turn. He had already left the idea of showing off, it was worth it, truly. But the kid took both of their hands and drag them to the front.
“This is my brother and his partner, Blasty…” He was going to fucking kill Kirishima, once he was out of public eyes, “…They protect us like heroes used to, fighting and punching the bad guys.” Haru punched and kicked the air with little to no technic.
“And words!” Kirishima interrupted, holding his brother by the shoulder.
“But mostly fighting and punching.” Bakugo shrugged his shoulders.
“Kirishima turned his head, in surprise, “Bakugo!”
“Oh come on Spiky, don’t tell me those muscles are for hugging.” Kirishima opened his mouth to respond, but Bakugo was smirking and Haru was laughing.
He won.
***
“Thank you again, for today,” Kirishima  was fixing his hair again, in an improvised mirror over the dashed of the car with the front camera of his phone.
Bakugo growled, and turn away. He couldn’t handle how ridiculous Kirishima looked. He was wearing a flowered shirt with no sleeves and the holes so big that its left too little for anyone’s imagination about how he might look without a shirt and a pair of black ripped jeans. Mind you, things that he already fucking owned. Obviously his hair as tall as the damn building.
“Don’t mention it. Seriously.” As always though Kirishima didn’t listen or seemed to understand Katsuki’s tone.
“When he learned was busy with work…he wasn’t very happy…he doesn’t really understand how it works…” He picked at his phone and blocked it, “How much we depend of that job…I try to help but dad…he, well, he…” The words stuck with on his throat. Katsuki watched amused, he had never seen Kirishima struggle with words before, “…he left nothing but his mistakes behind.” Debts.
“You are obligated to be fucking better than him then.” Ejirou turned quickly, Bakugo was still looking away.
“Yeah…you are right,” He shook his head. “But what I wanted to say, it’s thank you…Haru was so charmed by you…” He laughed genuinely.
“Yeah yeah…are you going to do your job or what?” He couldn’t stop laughing at Bakugo’s grumpy childish face, with a slight thirst for blood.
Kirishima let the laugh die slowly, before nodding, “I won’t let you down!” He barely opened the door when he felt a tug in his arm.
“Don’t do anything stupid.” And Katsuki hoped this time he would listen, as the twirl in his stomach grew bigger watching Kirishima walk away until he disappeared in blacks and neon lights.
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artistmacposts · 9 months
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#Chicago CTA Red/Purple/Brown/Line Train Tour, January 8, 2024
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verylast-kiss · 3 years
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When you get this, please respond with five things that make you happy! Then, send to the last ten people in your notifs :)
Because I’m commuting right now:
1) making it to the train platform right before the train rolls in/catching it in general
2) the views of Chicago on the brown line and seeing trains on the flyover
3) my pink plaid coat
4) texting my mom good morning because there was awhile there where she’d do it for me
5) the sun shining
Also @ anyone that wants to do this go ahead! I’ll admit I’m on the train so I’m gonna forget to send this out
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ericallixrogers · 3 years
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Bad photos of the new Brown Line flyover (at Chicago, Illinois) https://www.instagram.com/p/CWfBfHxLOPV/?utm_medium=tumblr
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hippopotatomus · 4 years
Text
The farmers check out the hidden field beyond their useless barren fields. Dobby goes with them to check out Caplin’s cottage and embarrasses himself in a botched attempt to get over the vegetable garden fence.
The plot thickens, or in this case, the ephemeral plot floats like a mist in the distance. Here’s a link if you decide to start reading at the beginning. There’s a helpful chart below to give you a chance to sort out the rodents. Recommended snack: Baguette and watermelon. Soundtrack: Going Down the Road Feeling Bad
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Dobby’s crew investigates the hidden birdseed field and Caplin’s cottage.
It was a beautiful sunny morning, like all mornings in the principality. Charlie and Hamish trotted south on the farm road, stopping occasionally to bounce and tussle in a friendly brotherly fashion. Bond flitted behind as they squared down and butted heads and then landed on Hamish’s left horn when they settled back into a reasonable trot. Charlie looked at the tiny perched bird and caught his eye.
“I can’t decide whether or not to be angry. I have been trying to grow birdseed forever on our barren fields and some interloper has trespassed our land, cut down our forest, stolen our magic, and they are growing birdseed, which is hardly even available around here anymore. It seems so impossible that I’m not sure I have the story straight! That’s about it, though, isn’t it?”
“That’s what we know so far,” said Bond. “I can lead you to the field but other than that I haven’t a clue what to look for.”
“What we’ll be looking for is how they get the birdseed out. Unless they are eating it directly off the growing stalks, there has to be signs of a road or trucks or something. I’m thinking you can fly over and look for anything suspicious, something that doesn’t look natural. Hamish will check it out on the ground. He’ll look at the edges of the forest. He’s the fastest, plus he loves to run,” and at that, Hamish tossed his head and Bond went flying. “But I am the farmer. I’ll look at the crop, how mature it is, how healthy, how close to harvest time we are. So that’s the other thing, making sure we don’t run into any unsavory characters. Somebody is tending those fields. Come to think of it, if they haven’t harvested in a while, there won’t be much evidence of comings and goings. But you need to let us know if you see any workers or sentries.”
“Got it. We’re close enough that I could fly over and report back before you get there. It takes a lot longer by road.”
“Great! Do it!”
“When we get there, I’ll make a speedy reconnaissance run all around the edge of the field,” said Hamish. “Dobby said there’s a road in from this end and another at the far end. I’ll try to figure out how recently they’ve been used. I’ll be able to recognize the roadster tire tracks from a couple days ago. Nothing quite like that anywhere else around here.”
“Yeah,” said Charlie. “It’s not exactly farm equipment, is it? I brought a couple sample bags for bird seed. I’m going to gather a bunch from this end. Dobby said it looked ready to harvest. Can you take this other bag with you and grab a sample from the far end of the field when you’re down there? And don’t eat it all!”
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Hamish burped up a little cud, and then Charlie copied him and they chewed cud together as they walked down the dusty farm road. When they came to the forest shade and damp section of road, they dropped to the ground and continued chewing while they waited for the return of Bond.
Drowsy Hamish sprang to his feet as tiny Bond landed on his horn and began to babble.
“ . . . And there wasn’t much detail I could see from up above, you know. It’s totally deserted right now, not a soul there, unless they were deep in the forest, and that roadside part doesn’t have any depth, it’s only a skinny bit of woods to hide the fields from the road. So let’s go check out the closer road.”
The two sheep trotted along the shady road until they came to the larger paved road. They turned left onto it and crossed to the west field entry road when Bond circled above, directing them. The sheep, like Dobby, recognized the entry path to the old picnic area but were also surprised when it widened and the expansive field of birdseed came onto view.
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“Hoo boy,” said Charlie. “This is not how I remember it. At all. How did they manage to cut and clear the forest without anyone noticing? Hmmm. We have fields just beyond the forest to our left, but they are the barren ones, and I haven’t been out there much. You know, I bet they did it gradually, and what I did notice was our fields going bad. Cutting the trees sucked all the magic out of our soil, but it was gradual until our fields basically died. But the magic is strong here, this birdseed crop is good, and Dobby is right: it’s almost ready to harvest. And there is a ton of it! This is easily as big as our biggest field. Ugh, that’s right! This is our field! Should I be planning to harvest it?”
Bond was on the ground, pecking around at the seeds as Charlie gathered seed heads into his sack. Hamish had sprinted to the far end of the field and was now too far away to see. Charlie turned his back to the field and looked down the road they had come in on. It was narrow where it met the large paved road, widened as it approached the field, and then split and formed an edge at the forest line on both sides, all the way down to where Hamish had gone. Charlie walked toward the big road and stopped. So did the road, that is, it didn’t continue across the road, it simply stopped at this side. Staring down the road, sniffing at the air, and looking at the forest across the way, he stomped and snorted.
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Wheat
Sorgum (Milo)
Millet
Sunflower
“That’s Caplin’s cottage over there,” said Charlie. “The driveway is down the road a ways, and past our farm road, obviously, but that’s his land over there. That’s why it’s forest and not desert like the Schist land next to it. I think I’d want a forest buffer, too, if it was mine.”
Bond flew over to investigate and then flew up and over the road. He circled over the cottage and came back just as Hamish returned.
“it’s been a while since I checked out Caplin’s cottage,” said Bond, “ but it looks about the same. Neat and tidy, driveway in good condition, little vegetable garden out back.”
“Little vegetable garden out back?” Said Charlie and Hamish, in unison. They looked at each other and frowned.
“Caplin wouldn’t know a potato from a peach. Plus, of course, he hasn’t been there in years, to hear him tell it. That’s just weird,” said Charlie. “How did the other end of the field look?”
“Not anywhere near as ready to harvest as this here. You’ll see when you look in my bag,” said Hamish. “The road at the other end is more like a foot path. It stops at the road like this one. It’s across from the Schist property driveway though, that’s kind of ominous. They have that bridge over the river there, but the land is so toxic that nothing grows, so you can see all the way in to their castle. I didn’t cross the street to look back at the path but the way it angles to the road, you probably can’t see it from the Schist entry or the road. The road dead ends just beyond, anyway, at one of Dobby’s little picnic areas. Nobody drives down there anyway.”
“How do King Clyde and Queen Bonnie get there, then? That’s the closest entrance to the Schist castle and they go there a lot, don’t they? That’s why they always come to Dobby’s palace the back way, up the farm road. She complains about that dust every time,” said Charlie. “Wouldn’t they have seen that little road across from the entry as they left?”
Hamish looked thoughtful. “I don’t think so. They aren’t terribly observant. She leaves the driving to the King, because she is too busy talking to drive. And he’s too busy driving, staring straight ahead and ignoring her with all his might. Unless that little road has flashing lights I didn’t notice, they are too oblivious to notice that kind of thing. Path in the woods, you know, nothing to see. They aren’t the type to get their shoes dirty.”
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The two sheep took one last look around, pawed the ground a bit, butted horns and trotted back to report to Dobby. Bond flitted about overhead, muttering something about teatime and they kicked their hooves into high gear and raced each other all the way home.
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It was another sunny day in the principality. The overnight rain had cleaned the foliage and damped down the dust on the farm road. Even the barren fields looked promising with soil darkened to a rich, chocolatey brown by the sprinkling. Charlie and Hamish trotted ahead, eager to re-examine the fields and the paths leading into it. Dobby’s Segway barely kept up, loaded down as it was with supplies, or maybe it was his lunch. Moneypenny sat atop a baguette and looked thoughtful as Bond pecked at the crust between questions.
“I don’t really understand why we need to install surveillance out here if Caplin never uses the cottage anymore,” said Bond. “Can’t we wait until there is a reason to suspect something going on out there? Shouldn’t we wait to ask Caplin?”
“Caplin has been trying to unload the cottage onto the Prince for a long time, but Dobby insists that he keep at least one connection to the kingdom. Dobby feels obligated to look it over from time to time, or else Caplin might really sell it to someone out of the family. He’s perfectly justified in placing surveillance out there. We should have done it a long time ago, but a quick flyover was all that seemed necessary. A vegetable garden suddenly appearing is not particularly menacing, but it’s definitely weird.”
“Don’t disagree with that. I think the Prince wants to check on the fields again, figure out how the paths and roads tie together, but mostly look at Caplin’s cottage. He feels kind of bad about neglecting it, I don’t know why. Caplin doesn’t care. Maybe he just wants to raid the garden!”
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The little flying squirrel and the budgie started giggling at the thought, puffing up their bellies and pretending to stuff their faces. Dobby turned his head in time to see Bond trying to eat a particularly large piece of crust and frowned.
“Are you eating my baguette?”
A few minutes later they were all staring at the distant roof of Caplin’s cottage from the illegal field. Bond flew that direction while the rest of them unpacked some of the lunch parcels from the little trailer Rodney had built for the Segway. The baguette had lost a fair amount of crust on the end that stuck out of the top, but the salad and fritters came out of the bottom of the picnic basket in good shape. Charlie and Hamish found a patch of grass to graze on and Moneypenny busied herself gleaning seeds from the field. The lunch in the basket was all intended for the Prince. Bond returned and joined Moneypenny, pecking at the seeds on the ground.
“On the way back this time, I noticed a small path nearer to where we are now. I don’t think we have to go all the way down to the driveway to check out the cottage. And if this path is new, it might be the best place to set out some surveillance cameras. We should put some at the driveway too, but that’s not an entrance anyone is going to try to sneak in on. Hey, Hamish! There seems to be a new path to check out. You should go through first and use your super tracking sense on it before anyone drives a Segway or something through there.” Bond looked around at the team. Charlie and Hamish had crumpled to the ground and were chewing cud. Moneypenny was stuffing a tiny bag with seeds and Prince Dobalob was through the fritters and halfway through a watermelon. Bond sighed and flew over to the picnic basket, landed on the handle, closed his eyes and enjoyed the sun.
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As the team sauntered down the road, Bond flitted ahead, looking for the path he had seen from above. Charlie engaged the Prince in idle chitchat regarding vegetable gardening as a distraction allowing Hamish to get a head start on reconnaissance. Suddenly, Bond the budgie hovered excitedly at the edge of the road and Hamish made an abrupt turn and disappeared. Dobby maneuvered the Segway toward them and Moneypenny, sitting on Dobby’s shoulder, stood tall to see ahead. Bond flew back to the Prince and sat on his opposite shoulder.
“Let’s wait here for them to check it out and call the all clear.”
“Hamish will be examining the edges of the path,” said Charlie. “From here I can’t see much. The path curves right away so I can’t see very far down it. Let’s wait for him to get back before we follow.” Charlie looked at the Prince, who was also straining to see around the curve. “Do you remember seeing this path before? It’s been ages since I came out here, but I don’t remember it. It’s kinda subtle, though, mostly just a trailhead and then it disappears. The understory is dense in this part of the forest. Probably some nice berry picking, though.”
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There was a miniature galloping sound and Hamish sprinted back to them. He snorted and scratched the ground before he started to talk. “The path is narrow but well used. It meanders through the forest and then opens up at a clearing near the cottage and a couple out-buildings, a garage or something. The interesting thing is that there is a bit of birdseed here and there along the edge. Charlie would have to back me up on this, but there also seems to be some grass- sprouted bird seed- along the edges. There’s enough stray birdseed around here that it’s had time to grow. It’s not as mature as the fields, though. And not surprisingly there are a lot of bird footprints, great big ones, so the birdseed bonanza has been discovered.”
At this, the little budgie looked down at his own tiny toes and grinned. “Innocent!”
The prince was listening carefully and look confused. “Out-buildings? I don’t remember this path, at all. Shall we check it out? You ready for us to come through, Hamish?” And without waiting for an answer, he Segwayed forward and turned down the path as the team scattered out of the way. Dust flew, obliterating any footprints or extraneous clues, and he switch backed through the woods as Moneypenny hung on for dear life. Charlie and Hamish turned their back to the dust and muttered to each other while Bond pulled a tiny dust mask out of somewhere and adjusted it around his beak and nose. Soon they heard a voice in the distance, calling to Bond.
“You’re not kidding! This is a nifty vegetable garden!” The Prince had Segwayed across the yard and was halfway across a white picket fence that encircled a fairytale vegetable garden. Furrowed rows with greenery of every size and shape, corn stalks, beans growing up bamboo teepees, peas growing up trellises, it was the prettiest vegetable garden you could possibly imagine. Except for the now flailing capybara, probably not exactly impaled on the pickets, but struggling mightily to go forward, or maybe backwards, it was hard to tell. Charlie and Hamish casually strolled to the gate just a bit beyond the portly Prince, released the latch, and walked in. Bond landed on the princely tuchis and spun a little circle. “What are you doing, Dobs?”
Charlie went straight down each row, admiring the little dream garden, afraid to touch any of the perfect plants. Meanwhile, Hamish walked over to the wriggling and sputtering Prince, positioned his head under Dobby’s chest, and gently lifted him off the fence onto the ground outside the garden. Hamish deftly hopped over the fence, possibly exaggerating the jump for demonstration purposes, and waited for the Prince to gather his composure. Silently, they walked along the fence until they came to the fancy little arbored gate. Hamish opened it with a little kick of his hoof and then with a flourish, swung the gate open. The Prince lumbered in, went right past the kale, and started munching his way down a row of romaine lettuce.
To be continued . . .
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The usual Cast of Characters:
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This story needs a lot more illustrations! Select an event from this story (how about a parakeet on a baguette?), draw a picture of it, and send me an email. I’ll reply so that you can attach a digital copy of your masterpiece to it. I’ll add it to the story!
Or, if you’d rather help with the glossary, send me the list of words you had to look up (or should have looked up, but didn’t!). Someday, I will start putting together the glossary. Do know what baguette looks like?
[contact-form] Charlie & Hamish investigete the hidden field of birdseed and Dobby gets hung up on a picket fence at Caplin's Cottage. The farmers check out the hidden field beyond their useless barren fields. Dobby goes with them to check out Caplin's cottage and embarrasses himself in a botched attempt to get over the vegetable garden fence.
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June 7, 2020
Finally! After an unforgettable week in which America — already reeling from the brutal caught-on-video Minneapolis police killing of George Floyd, on top of a pandemic, a recession, and ... everything — watched with dropped jaw literally dozens of videos of police clubbing, shoving, or driving into peaceful protesters, or tear-gassing them, and even maiming some for life with rubber bullets, some officers are finally standing up and declaring: “I quit.”
The problem is, the 57 members of the police riot response unit in Buffalo, N.Y., who “resigned” — to be clear, these cops aren’t giving up their jobs, pay or benefits, but rather shirking their assignment to a special unit — on Saturday weren’t opposing the shocking brutality in their ranks but tacitly supporting it. They are instead protesting the local prosecutor who viewed a viral video of two Buffalo cops in full Robocop attire violently shoving a 75-year-old peace activist to the pavement and cracking his skull, and reached the same conclusion as the rest of America. He charged them with a criminal assault.
The shover-cop cheering society convened after the union president of the Buffalo Police Benevolent Association, John Evans, said in a statement that the officers had been “merely following orders” to clear the square where a protest had occurred, adding bizarrely that Gugino “did slip in my estimation. He fell backwards.” It’s not often that you hear the defense from the Nuremberg trials and the standard line of your garden-variety wife beater invoked in the same statement.
The almost unshakable influence of police unions in American civic life, and especially in big cities, has been building at least a half century — mainly since the aftermath of urban unrest in the 1960s and ’70s — but the six years since the Black Lives Matter movement emerged from the ashes of Ferguson have finally brought the issue into sharper focus.
Not only is the public now seeing cellphone videos of police brutality, but it’s learning that many of these cops have been the subject of multiple complaints — yet protected by union rules or arbitration from any meaningful discipline. What’s more, the mild reforms from America’s first black president, Barack Obama, the election of progressive mayors and prosecutors like Philadelphia’s Larry Krasner, and the rise of Donald Trump — endorsed in 2016 by many of these unions — has heightened a paranoid style and an embrace of authoritarianism by cop-union leaders.
A quick flyover of America reveals the problem:
In Minneapolis, amid the birth of Black Lives Matter and their city’s appointment of a reform-minded chief, the local police union in 2015 elected a new president, Lt. Bob Kroll, even though he’s the subject of 29 complaints, was accused in a lawsuit by black officers — including the current top cop — of promoting a hostile work environment (wearing a biker patch linked to white supremacy), and once boasted, “I was involved in three shootings myself, and not one of them has bothered me.” Kroll was a featured speaker at an October 2019 Trump rally in which he blamed Obama for “oppression” of police and praised the current president who "put the handcuffs on the criminals instead of [on] us.” Eight months later, after the handcuffed Floyd died under the knee of a Minneapolis cop, Kroll doubled down, writing in a letter to members that the citizens protesting his death are “a terrorist organization.”
In New York City, where online watchers have been shocked this week by the images of a police riot, with officers shoving, striking and abusing citizens, and using the excuse of an ill-advised curfew to arrest thousands of peaceful demonstrators, maybe viewers would be less surprised if they knew the head of NYC’s Sergeants Benevolent Association had not so benevolently tweeted in February at Mayor Bill de Blasio that “the members of the NYPD are declaring war on you!” When de Blasio’s adult daughter was arrested at a protest this week — a curious enough event — that same union event tweeted out her address, or “doxxing,” as kids today like to call it.
Closer to home in Delaware County, a police sergeant in the county seat of Media — and vice president of the county police union — is reportedly on administrative leave after a bizarre episode with a local shopkeeper who voiced support on Facebook for Black Lives Matter, only to see Sgt. Robert “Skippy” Carroll reply from the official FOP account: “If you choose to speak out against the police or our members, we will do everything in our power to not support your business,” later adding on his own personal Facebook page, “Try us. We’ll destroy you.”
OK, Skippy. The sergeant deleted the post and then there was a follow-up where Carroll and Delco’s new Democratic DA, Jack Stollsteimer, showed up at this guy’s sandwich shop and hugged it out, leading the shop owner to tell the Delaware County Daily Times that it was all a big misunderstanding. I guess you could say the shopkeeper slipped and fell backward, metaphorically speaking. Meanwhile, the Fraternal Order of Police in Philadelphia is still doing everything in its power to destroy the iconic South Philly food purveyor Di Bruno Bros. after its employees voiced objection to an offer of free cop lunches and the store said it would donate to Black Lives Matter.
Maybe it’s time to file a Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organization, or RICO, lawsuit aimed at breaking up this protection racket? The problem is that the bullying tactics work, with major policy consequences. It was so disheartening to watch Buffalo’s Democratic mayor, Byron Brown, defend some of the police actions, including the failure to attend to the injured Gugino (although he did criticize the union) on national TV Friday, in what looked like a hostage video.
In New York, de Blasio had been first elected in 2013 as a progressive reformer ending police stop-and-frisk tactics, but he clearly became cowed over the years by the massive resistance he encountered from police unions who famously turned their back on the mayor at a funeral for a slain officer. You can draw a straight line from de Blasio’s abandonment of police reform in his second term to his seeming tolerance for police brutality this week and his support of a disastrous curfew policy leading to pointless arrests of peaceful protesters and even essential workers. (Two officers accused of brutality toward protesters were suspended — not fired — on Saturday.)
Another serious consequence of police union influence and obstruction is that it’s been difficult, if not impossible, to end the career of the worst cops who commit many of the abuses. I watched this first-hand in Philadelphia over the 2010s as my Daily News friends and colleagues Wendy Ruderman and Barbara Laker won the Pulitzer Prize for exposing shocking abuses in a police narcotics unit, only to see prosecutors clear the cops — after vicious assaults by FOP leaders on the pair’s journalism — while a cop who was fired won his job back in union arbitration.
One officer identified in the Pulitzer series was Joseph Bologna, who oversaw an elite narcotics unit and was captured on video ordering officers to disable security cameras in a raid on a bodega. He received only a brief suspension for “failure to supervise” and got another plum assignment to run a West Philadelphia precinct where there were scores of new complaints. Promoted nonetheless to staff inspector, Bologna was caught on tape last week viciously beating a Temple University student, leading to felony assault charges — and serious questions about why he hadn’t been stopped sooner.
The biggest reason that police and their unions have been able to abuse their authority is because, generally speaking, voters — especially white voters — overwhelmingly trusted them. That has collapsed since the killing of George Floyd. One survey found that overall support for police in America has plunged by double digits, and a whopping 78% told pollsters from Monmouth University that the anger of these protests is justified or somewhat justified.
That’s important, because the issue with reining in police unions has never been lack of good ideas, merely a lack of will. Michael Chitwood, a 55-year police veteran who recently retired as chief in Upper Darby, told the Inquirer his No. 1 solution would be to fix the arbitration system to stop the recycling of bad cops — “that’s a bad omen that sends a horrible message.”
The way to fix it is through the collective bargaining process, and here in Philadelphia, Mayor Kenney —who’s been historically backed by the FOP — will get another bite at the apple next year. The time for action is long past, but some of the burden falls on us as voters. If you want to curb police abuses, you can’t elect politicians begging for their union donations or endorsements.
When police union leaders start sounding like Johnny Friendly in On the Waterfront, it’s time for the people to fight back for our rights.
(selected segments of the article)
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