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bondenargentina · 5 years

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“James Bond: Los superhombres están entre nosotros” [Primera Plana, 19.04.1966]

Cinco mil años atrás, los egipcios organizaron un óptimo servicio secreto e incluyeron el espionaje entre las ciencias ocultas. Durante el reinado del faraón Thutmose III, un capitán llamado Thute introdujo 200 soldados en Jafa, disimulándolos bajo un cargamento de harina, gracias a los informes de sus agentes. En la Ilíada, Homero canta a una de las obras maestras del espionaje: el Caballo de Troya. En el siglo XV, Juana de Arco fue traicionada por el Obispo Pierre Cauchon de Beauvais, un espía pagado por los ingleses. Pero las complejidades de la guerra moderna crearon divisiones dentro de esa ciencia vasta y deleznable.

El espionaje político, por ejemplo, persigue informaciones sobre industria, agricultura, comercio, trabajo, transportes y, por supuesto, política. En su ensayo La sociedad desnuda, Vance Packard analiza cómo las grandes corporaciones de USA establecieron hasta con los baños una vigilancia de sus empleadas y obreras a través de micrófonos ocultos. Pero fue Joseph Fouché, ministro de Policía de Napoleón, el verdadero inventor de la estrategia que luego heredaría James Bond: durante el Consulado y el Imperio consiguió desbaratar todos los complots contra su príncipe.

En el terreno militar, el privilegio de la creación suele adjudicarse a Federico el Grande, quien estableció un sólido cuerpo de agentes separado en cuatro categorías: los espías comunes, proletarios y campesinos que pretendían así ganarse algún dinero extra; los espías dobles, que trabajaban simultáneamente para potencias enemigas y cuya misión era confundir al adversario; los de alto rango, oficiales del Ejército, nobles y embajadores, que cobraban sueldos altísimos; y los espías a la fuerza, por lo general jefes de pueblos conquistados que debían pasar datos contra su voluntad. Federico solía decir: "El mariscal de Soubise es siempre seguido por cien cocineros; a mí me preceden cien espías".

La Primera Guerra tuvo su heroína del espionaje, Mata Hari, glorificada después por Greta Garbo y Jeanne Moreau; es curioso que su entregador fuera el agente alemán Walter W. Canaris a quien Hitler concedió el rango de almirante y designó jefe de la Inteligencia Exterior, a las órdenes de von Ribbentrop.

A fines de la Segunda Guerra, los escarceos bélicos entre la Unión Soviética y los Estados Unidos se concentraron en sus propias centrales de espionaje: la terrible NKVD, con sede En Moscú, era conducida por el mariscal Beba (a su muerte, en 1953, fue reorganizada y rebautizada como KVD); la CIA (Central Intelligence Agency) se fundó en 1947 y prosperó luego a las órdenes de Allen Dulles; un año después de su nacimiento, un sensacional caso de espionaje se ventiló en USA: Whittaker Chambers, ex comunista, denunció que Alger Hiss, funcionario del Departamento de Estado, pasaba informes a la NKVD.

Nace el Superhombre

Toda esa rara secta de próceres más o menos embozados encontró, por fin, hace 14 años, un semidiós que los resumía: fue en la primavera de 1952 cuando Ian Lancaster Fleming, ex agente del Naval Intelligence británico, escribía las páginas iniciales de Casino Royale e introducía al personaje James Bond en el universo de los mitos. El parto se consumó apaciblemente en una de las islas del Caribe: Ocarabesa, en Jamaica.

La semana pasada, Buenos Aires se sacudía a su vez con las consecuencias de ese acto sereno pero artero: en la sala del Gran Rex se estrenaba Operación Trueno, el cuarto film de la serie Bond, y los 83 mil espectadores convocados durante los primeros siete días de exhibición festejaban con carcajadas o silbidos la indemnidad de este nuevo Superhombre. Más de doce años tardó esa glorificación en trasladarse de Londres a las playas sudamericanas: en 1953, uno de los clubes londinenses consagrados a la adoración de Bond —con 1.200 socios— libró batalla En Sobo contra una banda de eduardianos que hablan tratado de mancillar al héroe; treinta muchachos terminaron en el hospital. El 17 de abril de 1963, el Gran Rex de Buenos Aires cerraba la primera semana de exhibiciones de El satánico doctor No con una recaudación apenas superior al medio millón de pesos y un total de 10.803 espectadores; Bond se reivindicó el 22 de mayo de 1965, cuando el primer balance semanal de Goldfinger (Dedos de oro, tercer film del ciclo) reveló la asistencia de 52.429 personas y un ingreso de 5.429.022 pesos, excluidos los impuestos.

Entre el sábado y el domingo últimos, no menos de sesenta espectadores consultados por esta revista parecían estar dispuestos a fundar un Club de Amor a Bond o a inscribirse en los que hubiera. Todavía extasiada por los recursos que acaba de exponer el ídolo, Adriana Divarian, de 45 años, madre de tres hijos, admitió que Sean Connery, el escocés que encarna a Bond, "representa el ideal masculino" y que el propio personaje es algo así como un soplo de Dios. "Lástima que trate tan mal a las mujeres —suspiró—. Ojalá cambie algún día." Miguel Bersaiz, un estudiante de arquitectura de 20 años, explicó: "Admiro su seducción. Pero lo que más me fascina son sus rasgos de sadismo". Tulio Suárez, de 31 años, agente publicitario, opinó que Bond "sintetizaba todas nuestras ansias, pese a lo sobrenatural e increíble que es, pensándolo un poco".

Es posible que nadie lo piense demasiado; de otro modo no podría explicarse que la ficción propuesta por Ian Lancaster Fleming golpee tanto la realidad, se entronque con ella en un juego de siniestros mimetismos. Cuando en 1957 un periódico inglés que folletinizó la novela De Rusia con amor incluyó una variante en el final e insinuó que James Bond habla muerto, la redacción del diario fue acosada por centenares de iracundos que exigían una retractación. Asediado por las protestas, Fleming tuvo que demandar al periódico por daños, y dar fe de que 007 estaba sano y salvo. Desde que Arthur Conan Doyle decidió eliminar a Sherlock Holmes (a manos de Moriarty, un símil del señor Goldfinger), no se repetía un fenómeno semejante. Esta vez, en cambio, los admiradores de Bond no se contentan con su supervivencia: se apoyan en él para extraer sus propios beneficios.

Los provechos no consisten sólo en copiar sus desplantes y en drogarse a su conjuro. Los security men de Inglaterra pidieron aumento de sueldos invocando los riesgos a que están expuestos. En una revista del sindicato de empleados estatales escribieron: "Se debe pensar que verdaderamente estos hombres viven una vida de James Bond y que están de servicio incluso cuando descansan. Cobran actualmente 900 libras esterlinas al año como máximo; deben vestir con mucho decoro, si no tan rebuscadamente como el famoso personaje de Fleming; deben también afrontar gastos excepcionales y están expuestos a continuas insidias".

Otro ejemplo: Allen Dulles, jefe de la Central Intelligence Agency, confesó a un redactor de Life que desde que Jacqueline Kennedy puso en sus manos un libro de Fleming, se interesó cada vez más en los ingenios técnicos de 007: "Por ejemplo —reconoció—, el artefacto que Bond instala en los automóviles de sus adversarios para seguir su itinerario, inclusive a muchos kilómetros de distancia. Encomendé a nuestros expertos el estudio en el laboratorio de un aparejo semejante".

Los comerciantes, a su vez, no vacilan en exprimir la historia bondista, y, en París y Nueva York, abarrotan el mercado con batas celestes —el color que más sienta a Connery— y nuevos modelos de prendas sport. Con todo, el regalo más apreciado por los neoyorquinos, en la Navidad de 1964, resultó una réplica de la valija diplomática que Bond lució en De Rusia, y que Macy's vendió por centenares. A mediados del 65, cuando su fama había impregnado todos los estratos sociales y atrapado a los fanáticos del cine, la marca del champagne preferido de Bond, Taittinger, aumentó su venta en un 40 por ciento con respecto al año anterior, y en un 30 por ciento las importaciones de su vodka favorito. Los cuerpos casi desnudos de sus amigas (Ursula Andress, Daniella Bianchi) ilustraron las páginas de las lujosas publicaciones que exaltaban el fiction's sexiest Bond.

El éxito de las películas de Bond no es, sin embargo, sino el efecto directo que provocaron las trece novelas de la serie, clausurada por la muerte de su autor en 1964. Hasta el año pasado se habían vendido 25 millones de ejemplares de esas trece novelas, traducidas a dieciocho lenguas, incluidas el catalán y el turco. La cifra equivale a la edición total de las obras de Balzac y a todas las de Hemingway. En mitad de ese boom, es posible que John F. Kennedy haya contribuido a engrosar el torrente de adeptos cuando, en conferencia de prensa, situó a Fleming entre sus autores de cabecera y a From Russia entre las diez obras que salvarían a la humanidad del desastre atómico. Curiosamente, Kennedy y Lee Oswald, su presunto asesino, tenían gustos análogos. Semanas antes del crimen, Oswald tomó prestadas de la biblioteca pública de Dallas todas las historias de 007.

La semana pasada, en el vestíbulo del Gran Rex, la mitad de los espectadores confrontados no habían leído una sola novela de Fleming, pero casi todos prometieron una inmediata adhesión literaria, Cabría determinar, pues, los niveles de predominio: hasta qué punto Connery es Bond, o Bond es Connery.

El vicario de 007

Pero no, Connery y Bond no se parecen realmente, salvo por sus ascendentes escoceses. Hijo de un obrero textil de Edimburgo, Sean Connery abandonó la escuela a los 13 años para ganarse una vida muy dura como lustrador de ataúdes, salvavidas, marinero, modelo, boxeador de peso liviano, aprendiz de impresor y, finalmente, como comediante de cuarto orden en una compañía de comedias musicales que cantaba South Pacific. En 1957 tuvo que optar entre ser un centro delantero profesional o un actor aceptable. Resolvió inscribirse en una escuela de arte dramático y estudiar esforzadamente: al cabo de un año, lo citaron para pequeños papeles y luego consiguió encaramarse como primera figura en los teatros provinciales de Inglaterra. Los fantasmas de Shakespeare (Macbeth, Hotspur) vivieron bajo su piel más veces que James Bond.

A los 26 años recaló por fin en el cine, contratado por la Fox, pero sólo para languidecer en una retahíla de films mediocres que culminaron con una pequeña parte en El día más largo.

Poco antes, Fleming había cedido, por fin, a las melosas presiones de los productores Harry Saltzman, canadiense, y Albert Cubby Broccoli, norteamericano, y consintió en venderles los derechos de sus novelas. Elegido en un referéndum, esa mera debilidad del novelista, ante el dinero que le prometía el cine, cambió la vida de Connery. Desde entonces trató de entender quién era Bond: "Fleming me contó —dijo el actor— que, al concebir el personaje, 007 era un simple instrumento de la policía, muy recto, sencillo, distante de cualquier forma de ingenio; en suma, un funcionario capaz de cumplir con su trabajo al pie de la letra. El snobismo del autor, sin embargo, acabó por transferirse al héroe".

La vida de Connery no cambió demasiado desde entonces, salvo por el hecho de que sus ingresos ascendieron de 18 mil dólares (la cifra que le pagaron por El satánico doctor No) a un millón. Sigue casado con Diane Cilento, conviviendo con un hijo de ella y otro hijo de los dos, cocinando su goulash y ensillando sus caballos. Pero mientras tanto, los imitadores cundieron.

Los hijos de Bond

A fines de 1964, la certeza de que Bond era sinónimo de oro tentó irresistiblemente a los productores de Cinecittá, en Roma: con apuro, encomendaron algunos plagios paródicos y se los endilgaron a Totó (007, de China con tenor) y a Vittorio Gassman (Slalom). En esas dos empresas invirtieron medio millón de dólares, pero los artefactos de cartón que montaron en torno de sus personajes ahuyentaron al público. El negocio resultó un fiasco, y los pequeños Bond que nacieron en los meses siguientes ya no se exportaron de Italia. Por entonces, Saltzman y Broccoli gastaron tres millones de dólares en la filmación de Goldfinger, y eso convenció a los competidores de que para acabar con Bond hacían falta juguetes caros y actores caros. Sólo Hollywood estaba en condiciones de librar semejante batalla.

En la primavera de 1965, por lo menos cuatro imitadores ingratos de 007 ya parecían listos para salir a estrangularlo: sus nombres eran Napoleon Solo, Derek Flint, Matt Helm y Modesty Blaise. Un detalle los unía al Padre Todopoderoso: o defendían una sigla, o combatían contra una sigla. El enemigo de Bond era SPECTRE; Solo, agente de la UNCLE, enfrentaba al agente TRUSH; Flint, miembro de ZOWIE, se oponía a GALAXIE; Modesty Blaise ponía los bandidos de su equipo FILET al servicio de Su Graciosa Majestad. Sólo Matt Helm sigue oscilante, todavía, entre depender de la CIA o fundar su clan propio.

Los otros elementos comunes son el sexo y las armas secretas; al Aston Martin de usos múltiples imaginado por el novelista Ian Fleming, los creadores de Flint oponen un encendedor que cumple 82 funciones (revólver, máquina fotográfica, soplete, contador geiger, microscopio, rayo laser, radio-emisora) y hasta una función extra, si el caso lo exige: la de encendedor propiamente dicho. Helm dispone de un revólver que dispara hacia atrás y viste un saco cuyos botones son cartuchos de dinamita; Modesty Blaise, extraída por el realizador Joseph Losey de una tira cómica que se publica en The Evening Standard, emplea un encendedor lanzallamas, un vaporizador de perfume que puede convertirse en máscara de oxígeno y un lápiz de labios que dispara flechas; pero ninguno de sus argumentos es más fuerte que the Nailer, el Inmovilizador, un cierre relámpago en el rompevientos de Modesty, que al abrirse deja sus pechos al descubierto e inmoviliza a los enemigos.

Es en el territorio sexual donde se despliegan los mayores refinamientos: a gloria de Bond consiste en su aptitud para vencer la resistencia de mujeres asexuadas o francamente lesbianas (como la Pussy Galore de Goldfinger); sus herederos no parecen tener otro remedio que apelar a la mecanización del amor. La eficacia de Napoleon Solo se mide por el número de mujeres que se le rinden (una decena en su última aventura, El espía con mi cara); la de Flint, por una cama de cinco plazas donde se tiende con cuatro fidelísimas amigas. Matt Helm, en cambio, duerme en un vasto diván circular y móvil que le permite estar siempre cerca de sus juguetes mecánicos: al despertarse, el diván atraviesa el cuarto, y el tabique que da a un jardín desaparece; luego, el colchón se levanta y desliza a Helm hacia una piscina cuidada por una graciosa náyade. Es la apoteosis del reposo del guerrero. Pero además, como Modesty Blaise, Helm confía en sus talentos naturales: lava y cepilla a su enjambre de admiradoras, las divierte con un sofisticado strip-tease y les canta en voz baja. Como se define a sí mismo, es el espía que viene del show.

Sin embargo, la erudición de estos semidioses en disciplinas aparentemente inútiles es lo que más impresiona al público. Bond puede reconocer hasta por el tacto el año de cosecha de un Dom Périgord o de un Pommery; Flint distingue la diferencia que hay entre dos platos de bouillabaisse por los miligramos extra de ajo que le añaden los taberneros marselleses; Modesty Blaise conoce al dedillo las fórmulas químicas de todos los perfumes posibles.

Los presupuestos bajos que el cine francés o el italiano consagraban a estos devoradores superhombres acabó por excluirlos de ese nuevo Mercado Común que se llama Club Atómico, Club de Vuelos Espaciales o Club de los Grandes Espías. Tampoco la estrategia de resucitar a Fantomas o de armar a Lemmy Caution con versos de Paul Eluard (en Alohaville) dio el menor resultado. Pero el combate de los hijos de Bond contra su Padre Todopoderoso no se libraba sólo en el campo de los efectos especiales, de las escenografías gigantescas o del lujo visual. A principios del 85, se convirtió también en un problema de estrategia empresaria.

El actor que iba a encarnar a Bond fue elegido por Saltzman y Cubby Broccoli mediante un referéndum que propició el Daily Express en Londres: se publicaron las fotografías de diez jóvenes comediantes británicos y se instó a los lectores a elegir. Una mayoría del 62 por ciento optó por Sean Connery; el segundo clasificado, un tal Terence Cooper, consiguió sólo el 7 por ciento. Cuando tuvo que designar al intérprete de su primer semidiós, Derek Flint, la Columbia concentró su referéndum en Los Angeles y aceptó al sofisticado cowboy que habían seleccionado los diez mil californianos encuestados: James Coburn. Los expertos habían decidido que Flint fuese un personaje paródico, capaz de ridiculizar a Bond con sus propias armas. Pero los resultados fueron inesperados: en el primer mes de exhibición, el éxito de Flint era arrasador, casi igual al de Bond. Pero después de ese tope, el público parecía fatigarse. Fue entonces cuando se pensó en Matt Helm, un play-boy del espionaje creado por Donald Hamilton. La Columbia eligió el cuarto libro de la serie Helm, The Silencers (Los silenciadores), y encomendó el papel a Dean. Martin. Como explicaron sus agentes de relaciones públicas, la lucha contra Bond iba a librarse ahora en todos los campos: un actor famoso contra otro, un presupuesto de 6 millones de dólares contra los 5 y medio de Operación trueno. Pero el punto de partida para el ataque no se había modificado: Helm salía con la misma consigna de Flint, derrotar a Bond por el ridículo.

Más miel para los dioses

En los tiempos de Dashiell Hammett y de Eric Ambler —poco antes de la Segunda Guerra—, el espía o el detective privado eran apenas seres duros, capaces de incurrir en el Mal. Ian Fleming agregó a esas cualidades la certidumbre de que un espía puede ser todopoderoso, salvo ante la Reina o ante su jefe. La omnipotencia encandiló a los lectores, les despertó una sed que ni siquiera James Bond podía saciar: según los sociólogos, la avalancha de espías-semidioses se debió no tanto a que encarnaban los Sueños de las Masas sino a una simple condición humana, el hubris o ciega seguridad de uno mismo.

Los ojos devoradores de aventuras consiguieron que el género del espionaje prosperara y arrasara el mercado. El más importante de los novelistas que surgió a la zaga de Fleming (y su real contracara) es el británico John Le Carré, seudónimo de David John Moore Cornwell, un funcionario del Foreign Office que nació en 1931. La fama de Le Carré se consolidó con su tercera novela, The Spy Who Came in From the Cold (El espía que no vuelve, 1963), una historia ambientada en el Berlín de la Guerra Fría, cuya versión cinematográfica acaba de estrenarse en los Estados Unidos. El clima de sordidez y desvalimiento en que se mueve Alee Leamas, el viejo agente de Spy, quizá tenga dos antecedentes: Raíces en el fango (Confidential Report, 1956, de Orson Welles), y Los espías (Les espions, 1957, de H. G. Clouzot).

Para Le Carré, el espía es un hombre común, ni atleta ni buen mozo, ni patriótico ni buscador de gloria. Elige su oficio por rutina, por necesidad de dinero. Son parte de ese suburbio de la sociedad en el que también entran los delincuentes. En el caso inglés (los antihéroes de Le Carré están, como Bond, al servicio de la Reina), esos espías denostados, arrojados al infierno por la sociedad, sometidos a la soledad y al miedo, desvalidos de armas electrónicas o complicados equipos, trabajan para God, King and Country. Las culpas no son transferidas a los espías, simples empleados del Mal, sino a quienes fabrican, inventan y mantienen las redes del espionaje. El espejo de los espías (1965, su última novela; las otras fueron Llamada para el muerto, 1961, y A Murder of Quality. 1962) es el más violento anatema contra el espionaje, como institución, que se haya escrito. Para Le Cerré, cada caso es una auténtica tragedia, y por lo tanto se niega a toda trampa. Su grandeza debe buscarse, ante todo, en el hecho de que el Mal asume la forma de un laberinto del que es imposible escapar: y en tal sentido, más que un heredero de Fleming, Le Carré puede ser visto como un epígono de Kafka.

Otro de los novelistas uncidos al aluvión es Len Deighton, cuya columna sobre recetas de cocinas aparece en The Observen de Londres. Menos afecto que Le Cerré a la disciplina que exige el oficio de narrar en serio, Deighton ya ha vendido un millón y medio de ejemplares de sus cuatro novelas y sus das recetarios. El dúo de productores Saltzman-Broccoli (que monopolizó definitivamente el mercado del espionaje al lanzar también al actor Michael Caine en The Ipcress File, otra obra de Deighton) acaba de comprar en un cuarto de millón de dólares los derechos cinematográficos de The BiIlion Dolar Brain, una novela que el Daily Express está publicando en folletín.

Los esquemas de Deighton son siempre iguales: un agente bohemio, joven, que ejerce el espionaje por azar y cuya apariencia es la de un tonto, se ve envuelto en casos importantes, y lo que es más grave, los esclarece. Deighton enfila su humor contra los jefes de los servicios secretos, flemáticos caballeros ingleses que dirigen sus oficinas como empleos burocráticos y que obligan a los espías a llenar fatigosas planillas diarias, con el resumen cronológico de sus movimientos, sólo para que justifiquen los horarios asignados. Deighton escribe con tres máquinas a la vez, en su casa de Southwark, y ha terminado por convertirse en un empresario: tiene una compañía de viajes (la Trinity Travel Co.), una casa en Portugal que suele prestar a otros escritores cuando él no la ocupa, y una editorial en formación, la Hemisphere Publications, cuyo primer volumen será el Deighton Dictionary, una enciclopedia con voces cockney y hasta malas palabras del slang vietnamita.

Dentro de este cortejo gigantesco, cuyo primer Padre fue Mickey Spillane (un narrador lleno de una fuerza grosera, elemental), son los burladores, los parodistas, quienes parecen alcanzar la mayor repercusión. Hace una década, Graham Greene ocupaba los ocios de un espía haciéndolo copiar los planos de una aspiradora (en Nuestro hombre en La Habana); en 1936, el detective Sam Spade, inventado por Dashiell Hammett, se farsaba de los expedientes policiales y convenía en que la única arma posible contra el mal era el mal. El intento de Greene era francamente satírico, un áspero dardo contra los servicios de Inteligencia británicos; de la misma manera, los personajes de Flint o Matt Helm son ridiculizaciones de Bond. Pero el caso de Sam Spade, el de los espías de Le Carré, es de un orden moral: luchan por quien les paga o por interés propio, no por obedecer a una abstracta idea de justicia. En la práctica, son agudamente asociales.

Bond se les distingue por su extrema insensibilidad, salvo ante el alcohol; por su increíble fortuna sexual, por sus contactos frecuentes con la alta burguesía. Sólo Spillane sobrelleva juegos parecidos con las mujeres: en The Flier, el violento Mickey dispone de una joven morena, vista de espalda, que se cubre apenas con un corpiño y una falda a punto de caer; en Dedos de oro, Bond asiste a la muerte de una amante dorada, desnuda, yaciendo boca abajo. Es verdaderamente el sexo lo que mejor prueba la calidad de la miel segregada por estos semidioses.

Las mujeres de Bond

En una entrevista para Playboy, el actor Sean Connery admitió que tenía "sólo cierta experiencia con las mujeres. Pero nunca las perseguí sádicamente, como James Bond. Por supuesto, el apetito por las chicas lindas es algo que no se pierde, aunque ahora también me fascina la conversación de los hombres. Y algo más: no siento una avidez retrospectiva por las mujeres de mi pasado". Esa imagen de buen burgués británico está en las antípodas del semidiós 007, con quien Connery suele, (muy a su pesar) ser confundido.

Para Bond, el único entendimiento posible con las mujeres es de índole sexual. Sus tres amantes casadas abastecen semanalmente todas sus exigencias sádicas: toleran que las abandone, que las castigue, que les dispense una melancólica frase de despedida. Pero el Bond típico se revela en sus relaciones ocasionales: la historia que él quisiera vivir le fue narrada por su amigo Darko Kerim, y está transcripta en De Rusia con amor. Cuenta la captura de una muchacha en Besarabia:

La había ganado en una pelea con algunos gitanos, aquí, en las colinas que crecen a, espaldas de Estambul. Me persiguieron, pero conseguí meterla en un bote. Primero tuve que desmayarla de un golpe. Todavía trataba de matarme cuando volvimos a Trebizonda, de modo que la llevé a mi casa, le quité toda la ropa y la mantuve encadenada, desnuda, debajo de la mesa. Cuando comía, me acostumbré a tirarle algunas sobras, como se hace con los perros. Ella tenía que aprender quién era el amo...

Siempre las mujeres de Bond irrumpen imprevistamente, desde un lugar lejano, y desaparecen de modo misterioso, como un desprendimiento de la carne. Los dos ejemplos extremos son Honeychile, la pescadora de caracoles de El satánico doctor No, cuyo magnetismo se concentraba íntegramente en su nariz quebrada, y Solitaire, de Vivir y dejar morir, que, oculta bajo sus tocas negras, puede leer el pensamiento y sentir el pasado y el futuro de los hombres a través del vudú.

Las únicas excepciones a las relaciones lascivas de Bond con las mujeres son las secretarias del Servicio Secreto. Llevan nombres plausibles: Leolia Ponsonby, Mary Goddnight, Moneypenny. Todas son hijas de familias honorables, que se sacrificaron durante la guerra, y por lo tanto no hay el menor riesgo de que traicionen a la Madre Inglaterra, vendiendo secretos al enemigo. La idea británica al respecto señala que si provinieran de hogares más humildes, la tentación no podría resistirse.

Según Kingsley Amis, autor de The James Bond Dossier, el agente no trata de seducir a estas ejemplares matronas porque delante de M, jefe del Servicio Secreto, siente que se reduce "su normalmente alta potencia sexual". Amis también conjetura que Bond es un adulador de M, y por lo tanto no se atrevería a contrariarlo. En el fondo, el agente 007 intuye que su jefe ejerce droits de seigneur sobre las secretarias y no toleraría ninguna usurpación de sus predios.

Esa falta de autenticidad en las relaciones del personaje con las mujeres acaban por minarlo: los rastros de pesadumbre ya son muy acentuados en You Only Live Twice, el penúltimo libro escrito por Fleming. La historia acontece en Japón, luego de un período en el que Bond vivió borracho todo el tiempo. Sin insistir demasiado en la descripción, el novelista desliza la idea de un semidiós caído, cuyas manos temblorosas sólo se ocupan de mezclar whiskies y vodkas. Su ropa está descuidada y su camisa llena de arrugas. No sólo tiene muy poco dinero: también las mujeres ya no lo toman en cuenta.

Para vencer el miedo

Bond es un hombre sin identidad y sin proyecto, con la impostura típica del psicópata en el que todo afecto es congelado. En plena Guerra Fría, aparece como uno de los pocos personajes capaces de mantener un inestable equilibrio entre dos mundos en tensión. En el contexto de la llamada revolución capitalista o neocapitalismo (una ideología que se estructura al amparo de la automación, aunque mantiene el carácter monopolista del capitalismo tradicional), Bond asume tres papeles: agente secreto, saboteador y depositario de un permiso para matar. En el fondo es también un funcionario contratado para inmovilizar el capital de un grupo contrario a su bloque (sean norteamericanos, franceses o soviéticos). Esa actitud de mero funcionario se esclarece al advertir que Bond trabaja en el área de pequeños grupos, siempre con un líder o jefe (M), con una estrategia, una táctica, una técnica y una logística en forma de código: su papel no está del todo institucionalizado, y se le permite sólo un escaso índice de espontaneidad y creatividad.

Tanto él como su mundo inmediato son manejados a distancia: vive en un clima cibernético, esto es, enajenado, reducido a la función de un instrumento. Si deja crecer su iniciativa personal tiende invariablemente al fracaso. Detrás de todo ese andamiaje subyace el gran miedo a un enfrentamiento atómico entre USA y la URSS, cuyas consecuencias catastróficas son imprevisibles. El sociólogo C. Wright Milis había sostenido que "la Tercera Guerra Mundial está en preparación y será librada fríamente en nombre del Estado soberano, por las élites mandatarias de las dos superpotencias, con la aquiescencia del público y las masas y las abstenciones de los políticos e intelectuales". Así, pues, Bond no sólo trabaja en la Guerra Fría sino también en el incubamiento de la otra: quizá sea su imagen, con la Beretta pegada al rostro, la señal más rotunda de esta época temerosa, una imagen más sádica y abominable que la del hongo atómico que la engendró.

¿Quién es James Bond?

El cine y las tiras cómicas —pero sobre todo las biografías apócrifas— han disuelto en una especie de confusa nube la historia de James Bond, su carácter, sus gustos, el dinero que gana y hasta las cosechas de vino que prefiere. Como ocurre con todo mito, 1a anatomía de un semidiós se modifica siempre según la interpretación de sus adoradores. En este caso, mientras sobrevivan los trece libros que lan Lancaster Fleming escribió entre 1952 y 1964, siempre será posible peregrinar hasta las fuentes y establecer la verdadera anatomía del personaje.

En De Rusia con amor se determina, la edad de Bond, 35 años. El último libro de la serie, The Man of the Golden Gun, dice, sin precisar demasiado, que "anda entre los 38 ó 37". Mide un metro 83, pesa 76 kilos.

Se parece mucho a Hoagy Carmichael, el autor de "Polvo de estrellas” (Sabotaje). Tiene los ojos de un clarísimo gris azulado, un mechón que tiende a caer sobre la ceja derecho (Sabotaje) y una cicatriz blanca qui le atraviesa la mejilla izquierda (The Spv Who Loved Me).

Su padre era un escocés del Glencoe; la madre, Monique Delacroix, había nacido en el cantón suizo de Vaud. Bond fue educado por una tía de gran cultura —según la define M, jefe de Servicio Secreto— y gracias a ella pudo ingresar en Eton, donde su padre lo había inscripto desde su nacimiento A los 17 años, James ya habla representado a su colegio como boxeador de peso liviano y especialista en judo. Durante la Segunda Guerra, alcanzó el grado de comandante en la Marina.

Su renta anual es de 1.500 libras esterlinas, más mil libras exentas de impuestos (Sabotaje). Cuando está de servicio, puede gastar todo lo que quiere. Vive en un departamento pequeño en Kings Road, un barrio elegante dc Londres. Lo atiende una vieja ama de llaves escocesa, May.

Es vivamente racista. Siente horror por los negros y los chinos, detesta a los soviéticos y a los balcánicos, considera ridículos a los franceses y una de sus mejores satisfacciones es insultar a los italianos. "Los italianos son inútiles para todo —reflexiona en Diamantes eternos—. Llevan camisas bordada y pasan el dia perfumándose y comiendo spaghetti."

Cuando no le encomiendan alguna misión, su vida es opaca, tediosa. Trabaja de diez de la mañana a seis de la tarde en las oficinas del Servicio Secreto; almuerza en el restaurante de edificio: por las tardes, juega a las cartas con algún amigo o se dedica con escaso entusiasmo amoroso a una de las tres mujeres —casadas— que lo perturban. Carece de vacaciones, pero 1e conceden dos semanas libres al término de cada misión: M le encarga la solución de un caso sólo dos o tres veces año. No tiene nadie a quien mantener. Es huérfano y viudo. Se casó el 1º de enero de 1962, en el Consulado inglés de Mónaco, con la condesa corsa Teresa de Vincenzo; según se narra en Al Servicio de Su Majestad, su mujer es asesinada dos horas después del casamiento.

Muchos de estos rasgos coinciden con los del propio Ian Fleming. El escritor había estudiado en Eton, fue corresponsal de Reuter en Moscú y redactor de The Sunday Times; combatió en la Segunda Guerra como asistente del contraalmirante Goodfrey, jefe del Ser-vicio Secreto de la Marina, y logró ser admitido como socio del Elides, el más exclusivo de los clubes londinenses. Su pasión por los automóviles llegaba casi al delirio: más rico que Bond, Fleming había conseguido cambiar un Standard caqui por un Lancia Gran Turismo; un Morris Oxford caqui por un Thunderbird de diez mil dólares. En 1941, el espía Fleming intentó ganar en el juego todos los fondos de que disponía el espionaje alemán; convocó a seis agentes del almirante Canaris ante una mesa de punto y banca en el casino de Estoril, Portugal, y fue aniquilado: los nazis le arrancaron ocho mil dólares. El espía Bond lo vengó once años después: pudo limpiar los bolsillos de Le Chiffre, uno de los jefes del SMERSH, en el casino de Royale-les-Eaux. Pero quedan todavía otras dos identificaciones claves entre el autor y su semidiós: Bond es un prodigio como hombre-rana; Fleming se lució en algunas incursiones submarinas junto al comandante Jacques-Yves Cousteau; el escritor había imaginado un coctel afrodisíaco, compuesto de tres partes de Gordon, una de vodka y media de China Lillet; en De Rusia con amor, esa receta aparece como una invención de Bond.

El agente secreto no es nada excéntrico en sus gustos. Su encendedor es un Ronson de gas, su máquina de afeitar una Gillette, su pistola una Beretta, su reloj un Rolex Oyster Perpetual, sus palos de golf son Penfold.

Fuma de 60 a 70 cigarrillos diarios: la casa Morland, de Grosvenor Street, en Londres, se los prepara expresamente para él con mezclas muy fuertes de tabacos turcos y griegos. Cuando está demasiado intoxicado, se inclina por los Senior Service (en Operación Trueno) o los Chesterfield King Size (en Dedos de oro). También en esto es idéntico a Fleming.

Demuestra un arrasador convencionalismo en sus viajes, y eso es casi previsible si se advierte que su consejera era la Guía Michelin (For Your Eyes Only). Sólo con los automóviles y las bebidas se revela como un experto de increíble refinamiento. En Casino Royale maneja uno de los últimos Bentley modelo 1933, de 4 cilindros, color gris oscuro. Esta espléndida joya, capaz de correr a 190 kilómetros por hora, se incendia en un accidente: M, el jefe de Bond, le regala entonces un Mark VI de 1933, deportivo, color gris perla. El famoso Aston Martin de Dedos de oro (guardabarros reforzados con acero, emisor y receptor de radio, radar, patentes intercambiables, etcétera) carece de importancia en la vida de Bond: es en verdad un DB III, pro-piedad del Servicio Secreto.

Con el alcohol, Bond llega a limites casi orgiásticos: adora el champagne y el vodka, pero su sabiduría esplende al elegir Taittinger Blanc de Blancs brut, cosecha 1943, o whisky Haig & Haig Pinch-Bottle. A menudo se equivoca: el Dom Perigon es un champagne mediocre, y por lo demás, la cosecha 1948 (su predilecta) es la peor; el Pommery 1950 resulta absolutamente trivial para los expertos. Esos deslices no son demasiado frecuentes, sin embargo.

Sus menús son absolutamente ejemplares, aunque Bond no gaste en comida todo su precioso sibaritismo. En Inglaterra, se inclina por el lenguado a la parrilla, ensalada mixta con mostaza, una tostada con queso y café (Sabotaje); en la Florida prefiere los cangrejos de roca frescos, rociados con manteca fundida (Dedos de oro); en Italia, tallarines verdes al pesto y café (For Your Eyes Only); en Francia, pate de foie gras, langosta con mayonesa, frutillas con nata y café (Casino Royale).

Bond acabó por sembrar una aluvional moda, pero según el sastre italiano Caraceni, la manera de vestir del agente "es absolutamente sin errores, en todo de acuerdo con los cánones anglosajones". Jamás lleva zapatos acordonados: se consuela con mocasines cuya punta está reforzada por un bloquecito de hierro; sus camisas son de manga corta, inclusive cuando no viste de sport; su corbata es siempre negra y tejida; prefiere los trajes livianos, de alpaca o telas tropicales y de tonos azules profundos; los combina con camisas de seda, blancas o crema. En Operación Trueno incurrió en la osadía de mezclar esas camisas con sandalias negras: en The Spy Who Loved Me, descendió a la vulgaridad de ponerse un impermeable azul oscuro, con cinturón.

Todos los indicios parecen señalar que Bond es un hidalgo, como Fleming. Sólo resta averiguar hasta qué punto la hidalguía de un agente secreto se parece a la de los ladrones de guante blanco que proliferaron en el siglo XIX, a la sombra de Rediles y Arsène Lupin. En el fondo, a Bond lo acongojaban sus constantes acercamientos a la vileza. No por nada debía tomar píldoras de bencedrina para mantenerse en pie y una fuerte dosis de seconal para dormirse.

Versión original: Descargar PDF (5,16 MB - Google Drive)

#james bond #argentina #notas #operacion trueno #thunderball #primera plana #sean connery #1966

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brookston · 2 years

Text

Holidays 7.21

Holidays

Blessing of the Waters & Whitstable Oyster Festival begins (Kent, England) [ends 7.31]

Coldest Day Ever Day

First Day of the World (Egypt)

Invite An Alien To Live With You Day

Kazanskaya (Russia)

Lake Superior Day

Legal Drinking Age Day

Leo zodiac sign begins

Liberation Day (Guam)

Mary Wilson Day (Detroit, Michigan)

Monkey Appreciation Day

National Be Someone Day

National Craft for Your Local Shelters Day

National Law Day (Argentina)

National No Makeup Day

National Race Photos Day

National Tug-of-War Day

No Pet Store Puppies Day

Racial Harmony Day (Singapore)

Sapporo Summer Festival begins (Japan) [Until 8.20]

Schoelcher Day (French West Indies, Martinique)

Summer Kazanskaya (Russia)

Take a Monkey to Lunch Day

Twin-O-Rama

Veterans Administration Day

World Body Painting Festival begins (Austria) [Thru 7.23]

Food & Drink Celebrations

Legal Drinking Age Day

Make Your Own Pop Tart Day

National Crème Brûlée Day (also 7.27)

National Junk Food Day

National Lamington Cake Day (Australia)

Third Thursday in July

Get To Know Your Customers Day [3rd Thursday of each Quarter]

Independence Days

Belgium (from the United Netherlands, 1831)

Feast Days

Alan Moore Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Albert John Luthuli (Episcopal Church)

Arbogast (Christian; Saint)

Barhadbesciabas (Christian; Saint)

Carlos of Brazil (Brazilian Catholic Apostolic Church)

Daniel (Catholic Church)

De Foe (Positivist; Saint)

Feast of Damo (Daughter of the Greek sage Pythagoras, keeper of the secrets of philosophy)

Lawrence of Brindisi (Christian; Saint)

The Lucaria (Festival of the Grove to Sucellus, Gaulish God of Alcohol); Ancient Rome) [also 2.1 & 7.19]

Praxedes (Christian; Saint)

Primavera Sauce Day (Pastafarian)

Victor of Marseilles (Christian; Saint)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Butsumetsu (仏滅 Japan) [Unlucky all day.]

Tycho Brahe Unlucky Day (Scandinavia) [27 of 37]

Umu Limnu (Evil Day; Babylonian Calendar; 34 of 60)

Unglückstage (Unlucky Day; Pennsylvania Dutch) [20 of 30]

Very Unlucky Day (Grafton’s Manual of 1565) [34 of 60]

Premieres

Appetite for Destruction, by Guns N’ Roses (Album; 1987)

Bad Case of Loving You, by Robert Palmer (Song; 1979)

Blind Faith, by Blind Faith (Album; 1969)

Clerks II (Film; 2006)

Come Together, by The Beatles recorded (Song; 1969)

The Daily Show (Late Night TV Series; 1996)

Dirty, by Sonic Youth (Album; 1992)

Do the Right Thing (Film; 1989)

Dunkirk (Film; 2017)

The Lord of the Rings (Novel; 1954)

Monster House (Animated Film; 2006)

The Princess Diaries (Film; 2001)

Rescue Me (TV Series; 2004)

The Soft Parade, by The Doors (Album; 1969)

Stormy Weather (Film; 1943)

The Story of Doctor Dolittle, by Hugh Lofting (Novel; 1920)

UHF (Film; 1989)

Today’s Name Days

Daniel (Austria)

Danica, Danijel, Lovro (Croatia)

Vítězslav (Czech Republic)

Evenus (Denmark)

Tambet, Tulev (Estonia)

Hanna, Hanne, Hannele, Jenna, Jenni, Joanna, Johanna, Jonna (Finland)

Rodolphe, Térence, Victor (France)

Daniel (Germany)

Dániel, Daniella (Hungary)

Cesira, Lorenzo, Vittore (Italy)

Dabris, Daniels, Meldra, Melisa (Latvia)

Danielius, Lionginas, Rimvydas, Rimvydė (Lithuania)

Jane, Janne, Johanne (Norway)

Andrzej, Benedykt, Daniel, Paulina, Prakseda, Prokop, Stojsław, Wiktor, Wiktoriusz (Poland)

Daniel (Slovakia)

Daniel, Lorenzo, Práxedes (Spain)

Johanna (Sweden)

Ernesto, Vic, Vick, Victor, Vik, Viktor, Vittorio (Universal) Alma, Erna, Ernest, Ernestina, Ernesto, Ernie, Wesley, West, Westin, Westley, Weston (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 202 of 2022; 163 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 4 of week 29 of 2022

Celtic Tree Calendar: Tinne (Holly) [Day 13 of 28]

Chinese: Month 6 (Héyuè), Day 23 (Yi-Hai)

Chinese Year of the: Tiger (until January 22, 2023)

Hebrew: 22 Tammuz 5782

Islamic: 21 Ḏū al-Ḥijjah 1443

J Cal: 22 Lux; Sunday [22 of 30]

Julian: 8 July 2022

Moon: 39% Waning Crescent

Positivist: 6 Dante (8th Month) [De Foe]

Runic Half Month: Ur (Primal Strength [Day 10 of 15]

Season: Summer (Day 31 of 90)

Zodiac: Cancer (Day 31 of 32)

#calendar #Holidays

0 notes

brookstonalmanac · 2 years

Text

Holidays 7.21

Holidays

Blessing of the Waters & Whitstable Oyster Festival begins (Kent, England) [ends 7.31]

Coldest Day Ever Day

First Day of the World (Egypt)

Invite An Alien To Live With You Day

Kazanskaya (Russia)

Lake Superior Day

Legal Drinking Age Day

Leo zodiac sign begins

Liberation Day (Guam)

Mary Wilson Day (Detroit, Michigan)

Monkey Appreciation Day

National Be Someone Day

National Craft for Your Local Shelters Day

National Law Day (Argentina)

National No Makeup Day

National Race Photos Day

National Tug-of-War Day

No Pet Store Puppies Day

Racial Harmony Day (Singapore)

Sapporo Summer Festival begins (Japan) [Until 8.20]

Schoelcher Day (French West Indies, Martinique)

Summer Kazanskaya (Russia)

Take a Monkey to Lunch Day

Twin-O-Rama

Veterans Administration Day

World Body Painting Festival begins (Austria) [Thru 7.23]

Food & Drink Celebrations

Legal Drinking Age Day

Make Your Own Pop Tart Day

National Crème Brûlée Day (also 7.27)

National Junk Food Day

National Lamington Cake Day (Australia)

Third Thursday in July

Get To Know Your Customers Day [3rd Thursday of each Quarter]

Independence Days

Belgium (from the United Netherlands, 1831)

Feast Days

Alan Moore Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Albert John Luthuli (Episcopal Church)

Arbogast (Christian; Saint)

Barhadbesciabas (Christian; Saint)

Carlos of Brazil (Brazilian Catholic Apostolic Church)

Daniel (Catholic Church)

De Foe (Positivist; Saint)

Feast of Damo (Daughter of the Greek sage Pythagoras, keeper of the secrets of philosophy)

Lawrence of Brindisi (Christian; Saint)

The Lucaria (Festival of the Grove to Sucellus, Gaulish God of Alcohol); Ancient Rome) [also 2.1 & 7.19]

Praxedes (Christian; Saint)

Primavera Sauce Day (Pastafarian)

Victor of Marseilles (Christian; Saint)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Butsumetsu (仏滅 Japan) [Unlucky all day.]

Tycho Brahe Unlucky Day (Scandinavia) [27 of 37]

Umu Limnu (Evil Day; Babylonian Calendar; 34 of 60)

Unglückstage (Unlucky Day; Pennsylvania Dutch) [20 of 30]

Very Unlucky Day (Grafton’s Manual of 1565) [34 of 60]

Premieres

Appetite for Destruction, by Guns N’ Roses (Album; 1987)

Bad Case of Loving You, by Robert Palmer (Song; 1979)

Blind Faith, by Blind Faith (Album; 1969)

Clerks II (Film; 2006)

Come Together, by The Beatles recorded (Song; 1969)

The Daily Show (Late Night TV Series; 1996)

Dirty, by Sonic Youth (Album; 1992)

Do the Right Thing (Film; 1989)

Dunkirk (Film; 2017)

The Lord of the Rings (Novel; 1954)

Monster House (Animated Film; 2006)

The Princess Diaries (Film; 2001)

Rescue Me (TV Series; 2004)

The Soft Parade, by The Doors (Album; 1969)

Stormy Weather (Film; 1943)

The Story of Doctor Dolittle, by Hugh Lofting (Novel; 1920)

UHF (Film; 1989)

Today’s Name Days

Daniel (Austria)

Danica, Danijel, Lovro (Croatia)

Vítězslav (Czech Republic)

Evenus (Denmark)

Tambet, Tulev (Estonia)

Hanna, Hanne, Hannele, Jenna, Jenni, Joanna, Johanna, Jonna (Finland)

Rodolphe, Térence, Victor (France)

Daniel (Germany)

Dániel, Daniella (Hungary)

Cesira, Lorenzo, Vittore (Italy)

Dabris, Daniels, Meldra, Melisa (Latvia)

Danielius, Lionginas, Rimvydas, Rimvydė (Lithuania)

Jane, Janne, Johanne (Norway)

Andrzej, Benedykt, Daniel, Paulina, Prakseda, Prokop, Stojsław, Wiktor, Wiktoriusz (Poland)

Daniel (Slovakia)

Daniel, Lorenzo, Práxedes (Spain)

Johanna (Sweden)

Ernesto, Vic, Vick, Victor, Vik, Viktor, Vittorio (Universal) Alma, Erna, Ernest, Ernestina, Ernesto, Ernie, Wesley, West, Westin, Westley, Weston (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 202 of 2022; 163 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 4 of week 29 of 2022

Celtic Tree Calendar: Tinne (Holly) [Day 13 of 28]

Chinese: Month 6 (Héyuè), Day 23 (Yi-Hai)

Chinese Year of the: Tiger (until January 22, 2023)

Hebrew: 22 Tammuz 5782

Islamic: 21 Ḏū al-Ḥijjah 1443

J Cal: 22 Lux; Sunday [22 of 30]

Julian: 8 July 2022

Moon: 39% Waning Crescent

Positivist: 6 Dante (8th Month) [De Foe]

Runic Half Month: Ur (Primal Strength [Day 10 of 15]

Season: Summer (Day 31 of 90)

Zodiac: Cancer (Day 31 of 32)

#Holidays

0 notes

teenagediaries · 3 years

Text

11/10/2021

OKKKKK SO haha fun fact, today went to shit. so i woke up at around like 8 to get ready spent no joke 2 hours STRAIGHT trying to find an outfit and then went downstairs to get shouted at by my mum for literally no reason aswell. she is going through menopause or something istg she was dancing and crying to her finnish music on full volume last night so like i mean something is definetly up hahah. she has covid tho oops... and she was threatening to not let me get my belly button pierced.. thank god for my dad tho he convinced her to like breathe hahha. so we went to town and i had checked on the website the like opening times. i had google opening times and it said they were closed on sundays but then i looked at their facebook and it said they opened at 11 on sundays sooo we went but it was closed UGHH. so me and my friend Daniella (fake name btw) just walked around a bit yk and then we tried to buy drinks from this shops that usually always sellsss (also where i bought drinks with t once) but they ided us so we smoked at the park. my lungs are already fucked so who gives a shit at this point. then i bought a top from urban yummy and got changed bc i hated my outfit :) i also finally bought a new eyeliner pencil and it works so well !!!

we then went to daniella’s korf ball game pahaha bc her dad needed her to sub in so i sat there for an hour or two snapping peoplee. then we went back and got maccies ( had a wrap, fruit bag and water about 400 cals) and was my first thing i ate today yayy. we then climbed to the top of this mound aha and we had to jump a fence to get there. there was this woman watching from her window oopss. anyway we made a pact that if we are both not married at 80 we will get married and that we want to be remembered as cool people no matter what it takes. heh. we took a bunch of photos aswell it was so cute bc the sun was setting it was 7 pm. then i got picked up and daisy caught the train home. we are going to sneak out to LONDONN and also we are going to go to town a load and hopefully t can come as he’ll be out of isolation and we can go and sit on the mound :))))

when i got home i cut my hair ahh bc it was getting too long but i also kinda didnt rlly want to cut it bc todd likes long hair but tbf it really needed a trim bc the ends were soo split and dead haha so i cut like a bit and i acc rlly like itt. i asked t iff i should cut it and he was like nooo so i did and he said that i shouldve let him do it hahahahah. we talked a loadd yayyy and i migbht meet him tomorrow night...

it was greatt seeing daniella again and she’s my bestieee. i am soo not ready for school tho omg i don’t want to go AT ALL UGHHH.

mia xoxo

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artisticlegshake · 6 years

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MY TOP 20 FEMALE SENIOR CORE PERFORMERS

Stephanie Sosa - CSPAS

Joei Jacob - THE MOVEMENT

Kayli Johnston - DC2

Nina Choi - P21

Ashlynn Chong - THE COMPANY

Kendall Boston - CC & CO.

Payton Meuwissen - SUMMIT

Brooke Colletti - THE BREA SPACE

Victoria Bartley - STUDIO 413

Kate Myers - COMPANY C

Jamie Bacon - CSPAS

Daniella Kotch - PREMIER DIVISION

Sophie Pittman - STUDIO 413

Tayler Maguire - MICHELLE LATIMER

Mackenzie Corrales - NOR CAL

Alexis Warr - CSPAS

Lauren Yakima - NORETTA DUNWORTH

Karli Ramsey - MVP

Chau - NOR CAL

Emily McFarland - KARLA PATTTAVINA'S

(My personal top 4 in bold....THE TALENT TONIGHT HAS BEEN OUT OF THIS WORLD!!)

#radix nationals

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deadlinecom · 3 years

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newstfionline · 3 years

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Sunday, July 4, 2021

Out-Group Hostility (The Present Age) A new research article published by the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States of America (PNAS) doesn’t bode well for efforts to fight political extremism and polarization. The paper’s authors analyzed 2,730,215 Twitter and Facebook posts published by members of the news media and U.S. Congresspeople, and came to the conclusion that the quickest way to social media success is to attack members of the “out-group.” Specifically, each additional word about the opposing party (e.g., “Democrat,” “Leftist,” or “Biden” if the post was coming from a Republican) in a social media post increased the odds of that post being shared by 67%. These results are troubling in an attention economy where the social media business model is based on keeping us engaged in order to sell advertising. Facebook knows that its algorithm rewards extreme rhetoric and anger. Last year, The Wall Street Journal uncovered an internal report Facebook put together in 2018 that found that the company’s “algorithms exploit the human brain’s attraction to divisiveness.” Even worse, the report’s authors found that if left in place, the algorithm would continue to serve “more and more divisive content in an effort to gain user attention and increase time on the platform.”

COVID-19 shots are causing social conflicts (Yahoo News) After 15 months of limiting their social interactions to small outdoor gatherings with masks and social distancing—and two COVID-19 vaccination shots apiece for herself, her husband and their teen son—Suzanne (who preferred to not use her real name for this article) and her family are finally easing up and meeting with friends and family members inside. Sort of. While Suzanne’s side of the family is fully vaccinated, most of her in-laws are not. What’s more, they are lax about wearing masks, and have thus not been included in recent gatherings. And so a pandemic that’s already seen fissures form between those who mask and those who don’t now ushers in its new social divide: the vaccinated versus the unvaccinated. At a time when a return to “normal” is touted at every turn, awkwardness, hurt feelings and a sense of being judged are leaving many relationships feeling anything but.

Ransomware hits hundreds of US companies, security firm says (AP) A ransomware attack paralyzed the networks of at least 200 U.S. companies on Friday, according to a cybersecurity researcher whose company was responding to the incident. The REvil gang, a major Russian-speaking ransomware syndicate, appears to be behind the attack, said John Hammond of the security firm Huntress Labs. He said the criminals targeted a software supplier called Kaseya, using its network-management package as a conduit to spread the ransomware through cloud-service providers. Such cyberattacks typically infiltrate widely used software and spread malware as it updates automatically. Brett Callow, a ransomware expert at the cybersecurity firm Emsisoft, said he was unaware of any previous ransomware supply-chain attack on this scale.

Firefighters are tackling three major wildfires in California in worrying sign as summer begins (Washington Post) Firefighters in California are battling three sizable wildfires in what authorities are characterizing as a worrying sign that this year’s fire season could be even more devastating than the record-breaking destruction seen in 2020. “We’re seeing a large increase in fires on a historical basis compared to where we would be at this time last year,” Cal Fire Battalion Chief Jon Heggie said. “This is a large indicator that we’re looking at another busy fire season—all the same scenarios that set up last year for such a devastating year have the same potential for this year.”

Hurricane Elsa races toward Haiti amid fears of landslides (AP) Hurricane Elsa raced toward Haiti and the Dominican Republic on Saturday, where it threatened to unleash flooding and landslides before taking aim at Cuba and Florida. The Category 1 storm was located about 395 miles (635 kilometers) east-southeast of Isla Beata, Dominican Republic and was moving west-northwest at 29 mph (46 kph). It had maximum sustained winds of 80 mph (130 kph), with the hurricane expected to become a tropical storm after hitting Cuba, according to the National Hurricane Center in Miami. In Haiti, authorities used social media to alert people about the hurricane and urged them to evacuate if they lived near water or mountain flanks.

Vatican judge indicts 10, including a cardinal, for alleged financial crimes (Reuters) A Vatican judge on Saturday ordered 10 people, including an Italian cardinal, to stand trial for alleged financial crimes including embezzlement, money laundering, fraud, extortion and abuse of office. Those indicted include Cardinal Angelo Becciu, who was fired by Pope Francis last year, the former heads of the Vatican’s financial intelligence unit, and two Italian brokers involved in the Vatican’s purchase of a building in a luxury area of London.

At least 19 missing as mudslide west of Tokyo hits houses (AP) A powerful mudslide carrying a deluge of black water and debris crashed into rows of houses in a town west of Tokyo following heavy rains on Saturday, leaving at least 19 people missing, officials said. As many as 80 homes in Atami were completely buried, according to an official with the Fire and Disaster Management Agency. The official said more people, possibly 100, could still be missing under the mudslides but warned that details were not immediately clear. The official, who spoke on condition of anonymity, stressed that aggressive rescue operations were underway to find survivors.

Australia: Will the mouse infestation ever end? (The Week) The biblical mouse plague ravaging Australia is showing no signs of letup, said Daniella White at The Sydney Morning Herald (Australia). The millions of mice now scurrying across the southeast have gobbled some $775 million worth of crops and are gnawing through anything in their path—including barns, homes, and even cars. A rural prison in the state of New South Wales was being evacuated this week because mice had chewed through ceiling tiles and wiring and their stinking dead bodies are piling up in wall cavities. Once the rodents start rotting, says state prison commissioner Peter Severin, “the next problem is mites.” The infestation is so severe “that mice are biting people in their beds, sending some residents to the hospital in a critical condition,” said Lucy Thackray at ABC.net.au (Australia). Dozens of people have contracted leptospirosis, a bacterial infection that if left untreated can cause kidney failure and meningitis. Farmers are baiting fields with the poison zinc phosphide, which is expensive and time-consuming, but the worst part is the ick factor. “Farmers and their families are unable to get a decent night’s sleep,” said John Warlters of the charity Rural Aid, “without mice chewing on toes and scampering across beds.” It’s going to be “a long battle,” said Peter Hannam at The Age (Australia). Population growth should slow now that the Australian winter has arrived. But “the mice are expected to return with renewed menace” when spring crops ripen.

Unable to control Tigray, Ethiopia isolates region (Washington Post) The Ethiopian government’s inability to sustain its military offensive in the mountainous northern Tigray region was laid bare this week, as rebel forces chased their adversaries out of key cities and were met, as they triumphantly marched in, with jubilation from locals who see them as liberators. Now reports from the United Nations and aid groups imply a concerted campaign by government-aligned forces to punish and isolate Tigray, destroying key infrastructure in ways that will complicate the delivery of urgent relief, if not make it impossible, in a region where hundreds of thousands are already estimated to be experiencing war-driven famine. Aid groups report that there has been no Internet, phone service or electricity in Tigray since Ethiopian troops retreated and that no food or fuel are being allowed in. Both of the latter are essential—millions are depending on food aid for survival, and hospitals are using fuel-dependent generators to keep the power on. On Thursday, the United Nations’ humanitarian coordination office confirmed the destruction of a key bridge spanning a deep river valley that had been the main route for aid to be driven in.

Africa’s Last Absolute Monarchy Convulsed by Mass Protests (NYT) As Africa’s last absolute monarch, King Mswati III of Eswatini chooses his country’s prime minister and cabinet, and possesses the power to dissolve Parliament. His grip on the nation’s limited economic resources has underwritten a lavish lifestyle of luxury cars and palaces. About six out of 10 of citizens, meanwhile, live in poverty. Many in this tiny landlocked nation, wedged between South Africa and Mozambique, are on the brink of hunger and have to cross into South Africa to find work. Now, it seems, many of the kingdom’s 1.1 million inhabitants have had it with this imbalance: Over the past week, the tiny southern African nation, formerly known as Swaziland, has descended into the most explosive civil unrest in its 53 years of independence. Thousands of protesters have taken to the streets in the executive capital, Mbabane, and elsewhere, with many burning and looting businesses in which the king holds a stake. The government has responded aggressively, with witnesses, activists and hospital staff reporting that the military and the police have fired live rounds at protesters and looters.

Facebook tests prompts that ask users if they're worried a friend is 'becoming an extremist' (CNN Business) Some Facebook users in the United States are being served a prompt that asks if they are worried that someone they know might be becoming an extremist. Others are being notified that they may have been exposed to extremist content. It is all part of a test the social media company is running that stems from its Redirect Initiative, which aims to combat violent extremism, Andy Stone, a Facebook spokesperson, told CNN. Screen shots of the alerts surfaced on social media Thursday. “This test is part of our larger work to assess ways to provide resources and support to people on Facebook who may have engaged with or were exposed to extremist content, or may know someone who is at risk,” Stone said. “We are partnering with NGOs and academic experts in this space and hope to have more to share in the future,” Stone added. One of the alerts, a screen grab of which made the rounds on social media Thursday, asks users, “Are you concerned that someone you know is becoming an extremist?”

#headlines #news

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hemmohaze · 5 months

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Valentine’s Day Plans

Word Count: 1,000+

Warnings: Strong Language

AN: Okay what if i said this is my favorite fic I’ve ever written. Maybe it’s because Cal is my cheat lane as well. Happy reading and hope you all enjoy<3

————

February 13th 2019

Daniella Walker. The name that is mainstream as she was making her way into the music scene as what the internet calls their "pop princess."

Daniella first had internet fame how everyone does in the early 2010's, by posting on Youtube. From the age of 16 she started posting covers of her singing different popular songs at the time ranging from Halsey to Ariana Grande. First viral video being her cover of Honeymoon Avenue from the album Yours Truly.

Her life changed at 19 when one of her self produced songs called Speechless dropped and became an overnight sensation. Flying from her home country of London, England to countless radio interviews to her first American Music Awards as an attendee and performer at.

That’s when she met some of her longtime friends in the music industry, 5 Seconds of Summer. She met them because she accidentally bumped into a red haired Micheal as she was coming off stage and they were about to take the stage. The two gushing over much they enjoyed each other’s music.

She was a huge Amnesia fan.

Over the years they continued to keep contact with one another. She was featured on their 3rd album Youngblood on their song Want You Back as backing vocals.

Daniella had also become a regular feature in 5SOS content. As well as being posted on their respective girlfriend’s Instagram’s pretty frequently.

For a little while she was considered a groupie when she went to Bali with them in 2016. Until stan twitter quickly defended her from the trolls on the internet claiming how do they not know her.

She was now 24 standing in line at her favorite local coffee and bagel spot in downtown Los Angeles. The line continued move at a slow pace as she hummed along to the beat in her airpods she been sent the night previous. She was absolutely in love with it. She had a studio session set with Max Martin that she definitely couldn't be late for.

He's worked with artists like Taylor Swift, Kelly Clarkson, Ariana Grande, and Britney Spears.

It's been a dream of hers to work with him and only her 3rd album that is saying she's gotta be doing something right.

She finally approached Bailey, one of the cashiers she had blossomed a friendship from after being a regular here for 4 months.

"Everything bagel with a side of strawberry cream cheese and Iced Americano double shot with light ice and vanilla creamer!" She shouted to the back. "Hey Daniella."

A smile was plastered on her face. "Hey girlfriend! You'll never believe what I've got planned today." She started as she dug in her purse for her card to hand over for her to swipe.

"Please you're literally a pop star. If you told me you were going to meet up with Kim Kardashian I would probably believe you." She stated in her strong jersey accent as she handed the card back.

"No I wish, but on my bucket list though, maybe I could get a discount on those Skims bodysuits I like. Anyways besides the point here, somehow managed to get a studio session with Max Martin! And cherry on top, the guys are showing up with Ryan fucking Tedder.” She said excitedly as she moved off to the side of the line so other people could move.

"See this is what I mean. It's Thursday at nine in the morning and you're going to work with your hot Australian friends and I'm here covered in flour all day while dealing with the bitches in the back and isn't Max Martin that Swedish dude who's written and produced for basically every A list singer." She leaned against the register.

"Yeah it's so exciting is it not. And Alexis you're so talented at making bagels. Hone in on that." She joked making the curly haired blonde roll her eyes in fake annoyance.

“Your accent makes this sound all posh Dani.”

“Oh whatever.”

"Your beautiful everything bagel and iced coffee m'lady." Bailey turned around to the kitchen workers as she handed her two paper bags one full of her favorite little snacks and the other with her bagel.

"Oh my goodness, you didn't have to do th-." She started.

"Oh please shut up yes I did. You're gonna be late with the hot guys.”

“Text me when you can, I'd love to hear all about it." She smiled.

"Will do."

As she was on the highway on the way to the studio her mind was clouded with thoughts some negative some positive, but mostly negative.

Before she knew it she was finding a parking spot and walking into Capitol Records.

Showing security her badge, she looked down at her Apple Watch and cursed, realizing she was going to be late if she didn’t climb the stairs in under 2 minutes. Thank god for her zumba classes she’s been taking.

Once she figured out what studio she was gonna be in for the next 6 hours, she spotted his long hair and glasses talking to Ryan and the four men sat in the couch in the corner. All of them laughing at something on Luke's phone. She knocked bringing their attention to her standing at the door slightly out of breath.

"Daniella! Pleasure to finally meet you." Max said getting up from the comfy chair to give her hug.

"So nice to meet you too. I'm so incredibly excited and I also see you've invited some of my good friends." She stated nudging Ryan's elbow.

"He had a lot of positive things to say about you." He said sitting back down.

"Daniella you probably know them," Ryan gestured to the men sitting on the couch.

"Know them. These guys are basically a second family to me." She joked.

"I hope you don't mind that I decided to bring them along here to hopefully do some live instrumentals for ya." He told her looking at her with a smile.

"Oh my goodness not at all! It actually sounds so cool. I’ve missed these guys." She smiled widely.

Micheal stood up and gave her a brotherly hug. “Have you gotten shorter?” He joked making Daniella give him the bird.

“Haven’t you gotten weirder.”

“Touché.”

Ashton was next, giving her another squeeze and pat on the head.

Then Luke who did their handshake they made up in Bali together, that neither of them forgot even after 4 years.

Finally it was Calum who smiled at her first and then suddenly picked up her up and spun her around in a circle, earning a loud laugh from Daniella and his signature smile that she still got butterflies from.

Even after her 6 years of knowing him, he still makes her blush like a school girl.

“Alright everyone let’s get to work to hear this beautiful voice of hers.” Max stated turning around and facing the recording booth as Daniella walked in and put on her headphones.

Two hours passed as Daniella stood in the recording booth, recording the second verse. She was mumbling the possible verse in the microphone. The song had a Lorde lyricism with Ariana Grande singing vibe.

She and Max had titled the song Selfish. Max and Ryan giving her corrections if needed. Other than the couple comments or corrections from the group she had total artistic freedom and she loved that.

“Could we leave that first half blank of that chorus and I’ll stack some more vocal layers on that run.” Daniella suggested over the noise of the metronome. “Thank you.”

“Yup sounds amazing.”

While Ryan was stacking her vocals, she leaned next to Ashton's drum kit and told him what pace she needed for the chorus.

Calum was fiddling with his bass strings trying to tune them when Daniella walked over. “So what’s your big opinion on it??”

“I think it sounds bloody brilliant.” He said in a Scottish accent.

“Don’t make fun of the Scottish people.”

“You always seem to forget I’m half Scottish and you’re literally British.” He laughed as she hit his tattooed arm slightly.

Max leaned into Micheal's headset, "Okay Mike start from when Daniella comes in at "I used to be cautious about this and stop when the beat drops back down to the acoustic version that we have prepared.”

3 more hours passed as their session ended and Daniella so proud of the song they had made and gotten mastered.

"Alright, could we schedule another one for Friday morning? We’ve got selfish crossed off the list. We could get started on Messier Things as well." Max asked her looking at his calendar.

She nodded with a thumbs up. "That should work with me."

"It was so good to finally see you guys today. What’s new in the wonderful world of 5SOS land." She asked the boys as they were walking to a lunch spot on the less crowded side of LA so the likelihood of them all being noticed and ambushed by paparazzi was a zero percent chance.

“Going on a promo tour for Easier. Thats literally all. New York, LA, Atlanta, and some overseas.” Ashton said laughing.

"Well whatt are you guys doing for the day of love that happens to be tomorrow." She asked wiggling her fingers together.

"Spending time with Sierra." Luke quickly answered with a smile. He loves that woman more than air it seems. But it’s good to see him so happy.

"Crystal wants to go see some new movie." Micheal stated with a raised eyebrows. He probably had no clue but he was with Crystal and thats all he cared about.

“Oo lemme know if you need a dog sitter. I’ll bring Pepper. Y’know she loves Moose and Southy.”

"Probably just a dinner with KayKay." Ashton’s bright smile came up whenever he talked about KayKay.

"Absolutely nothing." Calum said quickly with a slight eye roll. She knew how he felt about Valentine's Day. He hated that day with every fiber in his being.

"We could spend it together Cal, I'm not doing anything either. It can be like old times!" Reminiscing on when they would go their favorite Ramen restaurant in the city and rewatch Criminal Minds at his house whenever they were both free.

As much as only everyone around them knows, they've had a flirty relationship ever since they've met. But what they don’t know is they claim they’re just friends who have occasionally kissed each other, slept in the same bed, and she's worn his clothes more than once but just friends.

But due to them being too awkward to act upon their obvious feelings, they have no official label on whatever they are.

"Ramen on Melrose it is." He laughed making Daniella laugh along with him.

#5sos #luke hemmings #micheal clifford #calum hood #calum hood smut #calum and daniella #cause im a singer #ashton irwin #5sos fanfic #micheal 5sos #calum 5sos #luke 5sos #ashton 5sos

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gyrlversion · 5 years

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A Former USC Gynecologist Has Been Arrested And Charged With Sexually Abusing Hundreds Of Women

A former gynecologist at the University of Southern California accused of sexually assaulting hundreds of women has been arrested and charged with more than two dozen felonies.

George Tyndall worked at the college for nearly 30 years as the only full-time gynecologist and, despite repeated complaints of inappropriate touching and comments, saw thousands of female students.

After a year-long investigation and more than 350 women stepping forward to share their stories, Los Angeles police arrested the 72-year-old Wednesday morning as he was walking out of his apartment.

Los Angeles County District Attorney Jackie Lacey filed 29 felony counts against the doctor, accusing him of sexually assaulting 16 of his patients.

In their complaint, prosecutors charged the doctor with 18 counts of sexually penetrating a person while she was unconscious and 11 counts of sexual battery by fraud for touching an “intimate part” of a patient “for the purpose of sexual arousal” and under the guise of a “professional purpose.”

If convicted, Tyndall could spend up to 53 years in prison.

Prosecutors say the women, who range in age from 17 to 29, went to the campus health center for annual exams or for other treatment between August 2009 and April 2016.

Shortly after, Tyndall left the university after an investigation into claims against him, although the college acknowledged it had received complaints about his behavior dating back to the 1990s.

The Los Angeles Police Department assigned 12 detectives, which is the bulk of their sexual assault force, to investigate the allegations.

“This was their single task,” Police Chief Michel Moore said at a news conference. “To initiate an outreach to women who had been victimized by Dr. Tyndall.”

More than 350 “courageous” women came forward to detail their experiences with the gynecologist, sending detectives to more than 16 states to conduct “the vast majority of those interviews in person,” Moore said, acknowledging that the women’s “lives have been forever changed by the trauma and assault that his man brought.”

As a result, investigators gave the district attorney’s office more than 130 crime reports and officials are still interviewing women who say that Tyndall inappropriately touched or harassed them during his tenure at the university.

Lacey said more charges could still be filed.

Since the Los Angeles Times broke the story last year, more than 500 former patients of Tyndall’s have come forward accusing him of inappropriate behavior. The campus doctor has maintained he had done nothing wrong and that his behavior was appropriate.

Daniella Mohazab, who says Tyndall assaulted her in 2016, called the arrest “a huge step in moving forward.”

“I broke down at work today in tears of happiness that Tyndall is behind bars,” Mohazab said during a news conference with her attorney, Gloria Allred, who is representing 62 alleged victims. “I cannot explain how scared I felt walking around with the thought that I could run into Tyndall at any moment, in a grocery store, coffee shop or park.”

When officers arrested him Wednesday morning, Tyndall was carrying a loaded 38-cal revolver. He then complained of chest pains and was taken to a nearby hospital for treatment, Moore said.

His bail has been set a $2.1 million.

The post A Former USC Gynecologist Has Been Arrested And Charged With Sexually Abusing Hundreds Of Women appeared first on Gyrlversion.

from WordPress http://www.gyrlversion.net/a-former-usc-gynecologist-has-been-arrested-and-charged-with-sexually-abusing-hundreds-of-women/

#Uncategorized

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matchmadehq-blog · 7 years

Note

TOM HARDY / HE/HIM ⌇ CAL JONES is the newest human applicant to the match-made project. they identify as MALE and HETEROSEXUAL and are THIRTY-FOUR years old. their references describe them as FRIENDLY, OPTIMISTIC and QUIET, STUBBORN. supposedly, they joined because HE WANTS TO FIND A SUPERHUMAN TO HEAL HIS LEG. they have been paired with the superhuman DANIELLA MUNROE. [ mic, 20+, est, he/him]

WELCOME MIC ! Thank you for applying – the faceclaim of TOM HARDY is now taken. Please have your account in within twenty-four hours.

#accepted #anonymous #answered

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therightnewsnetwork · 7 years

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Women’s Suffrage: A Triumph of the Grand Old Party–Not the Democrats

As Women’s History Month comes to a close, it is remarkable observing how the Democrat Party has attempted to lecture Republicans and the American people about women’s suffrage and equality. Either in ignorance or in duplicitous fashion, they repeatedly hijack American history, abusively perverting it in order to fit their own narrative of generations of Democrats fighting the moral, just, and virtuous battles for civil rights and for all things considered good by society.

And yet, with a little research, history stands on its own two feet and illuminates the lies fabricated and propagated by the party of Wilson.

In 1878, Aaron Augustus Sargent, a Republican U.S. Senator from California and husband of Susan B. Anthony’s close friend Ellen Clark, introduced the 19th Amendment for the first time to the United States Senate. Sargent’s first proposal was, of course, defeated by the Democratic Party. That disappointing vote on the floor of the Senate would only be the first of a series of shutdowns by congressional Democrats.

Year after year—for 40 years—Republicans in Congress repeatedly re-introduced the amendment for a vote, never reaching the required two-thirds threshold necessary for its passage. Even when Republicans held the majority in one or both houses of Congress, Democrats refused to reach across the aisle and stand for the political equality of women.

Frustrated with the actions of Senate and House Democrats in the federal government, suffragists— including Susan B. Anthony— led efforts to get bills passed in state legislatures that granted women the right to vote. If enough states passed these types of bills, they projected that there would be overwhelming political pressure on Congress to pass the 19th Amendment. By the end of 1918, fifteen states had adopted referendums that allowed women to legally vote in elections at all levels of government.

Attempting to persuade congressional Democrats, Suffragists made the argument that President Woodrow Wilson — a Democrat who vehemently opposed women’s suffrage — would not have won reelection in 1916 over Supreme Court Justice Charles Evans Hughes had it not been for state’s allowing women to cast votes for their state’s slate of electors. Unfortunately, that argument was not enough to convince Democrats in Congress to halt their opposition to the 19th Amendment.

The tide finally turned in late 1918, as the Democrat Party lost majorities in both houses of Congress — due in large part to Woodrow Wilson’s drop in popularity. Wilson campaigned on keeping the United States out of World War I, but he reneged on that promise. The GOP, now with majorities in Congress and several states aligned with their campaign, was finally in a position to pass the 19th Amendment. By July of 1919, the 19th Amendment had passed both houses of Congress, and on August 24th, 1920, the State of Tennessee would become the final state needed to ratify the amendment.

So, why do Democrats deceptively take credit for the accomplishments of Republicans like A.A. Sargent, Ellen Clark, and Susan B. Anthony? Perhaps, because they are desperate to ensure that the racist, sexist history of their own party remains a secret.

Sadly, they have been successful in this effort. After all, the Democrat Party and the Left generally control the media and academia—two critical outlets of influence that are utilized today as indoctrination mills. It is through these outlets that the Democrats have brainwashed the next generation into believing that their party is morally superior, having accomplished all of the progress actually made by Republicans, and that the Republican Party is nothing more than a collection of ignorant, woman-hating racists who seek to destroy the proletariat.

In fact, this exact scenario happened just this week. During the course of his remarks at the Women’s Empowerment Panel on Wednesday, President Donald Trump paid tribute to three historically influential American women, of which Susan B. Anthony was among them.

Trump, sarcastically: “Have you heard of Susan B. Anthony? I’m shocked you’ve heard of her.” https://t.co/dQ97ZRjL2v

— Daniella Diaz (@DaniellaMicaela) March 29, 2017

Here is a transcript of Trump’s remarks about the leader of the 19th century women’s suffrage movement:

“And we’ve had leaders like Susan B. Anthony—have you heard of Susan B. Anthony? I’m shocked that you’ve heard of her—who dreamed of a much more equal and fair future, an America where women themselves, as she said, ‘helped to make laws and elect the lawmakers.’”

To any person who watched the remarks in whole, as opposed to in selective part, would have quickly picked up on the fact that Trump’s off-hand remark was made in a sarcastic fashion.

Yet, as one would expect, the Democrats and the praetorian guard media (a fitting term coined by constitutional lawyer Mark Levin), in unison, spared no time attempting to lecture the President, treating him like a benighted fool who had never heard of Susan B. Anthony.

For example, Karen Tumulty, a national political correspondent for The Washington Post who is most recently remembered as a laughing-stock for her “unbiased,” “stalwart” investigation of the “expensive tastes” of former President George Herbert Walker Bush’s daughter-in-law, Columba Bush, in which she twists facts in order to trash the wife of former GOP presidential candidate Jeb Bush. In similar fashion, the correspondent tweeted of Trump’s comments:

“Have you heard of Susan B. Anthony?” Trump asks at women’s empowerment event.

— Karen Tumulty (@ktumulty) March 29, 2017

Rebecca Ballhaus (The Wall Street Journal), Emma Gray (The Huffington Post), Frank Thorp (NBC News), and Jennifer Epstein (Bloomberg)—all non-partisan, unbiased reporters, of course—joined in chorus with Tumulty.

“Have you heard of Susan B. Anthony?” asks Trump at a women’s empowerment event at the White House.

— Rebecca Ballhaus (@rebeccaballhaus) March 29, 2017

“Have you heard of Susan B. Anthony?” -the President of the United States

— Emma Gray (@emmaladyrose) March 29, 2017

President Donald J Trump: “Have you heard of Susan B Anthony?”

— Frank Thorp V (@frankthorp) March 29, 2017

“Have you heard of Susan B. Anthony?” the president asked a group of women today at the White House.

— Jennifer Epstein (@jeneps) March 29, 2017

Then came the lecture. And of course, from none other than the daughter of former Secretary of State and Democratic Presidential Candidate Hillary Clinton:

Do you think Trump knows Susan B. Anthony & Frederick Douglass were friends? Worked together on universal suffrage? (Knows who they were?) https://t.co/fY5Zi171wO

— Chelsea Clinton (@ChelseaClinton) March 29, 2017

What is most damning about Clinton’s remarks is that they showcase her own historical ignorance of who Susan B. Anthony really was. Perhaps these “journalists” should have tagged Clinton’s account in their tweets because apparently she never cared to figure out that Anthony was a Republican who fought for political equality for women in spite of the Democratic Party, which sabotaged her efforts at every turn.

The former First Daughter, though, wasn’t the only one to lecture the President and Republicans on Susan B. Anthony and women’s suffrage during Women’s History Month.

Recall on the last day of February, several Democratic congresswomen decided it would be clever to dress in all white for the President’s first joint address to Congress as a symbol of women’s suffrage, hoping to take another stab at protesting the legitimate election of Donald Trump to the Office of the Presidency by way of the electoral college.

The outfit coordination effort was led by the chair of the Democratic Women’s Working Group, Representative Lois Frankel (D-Fla.), who represents Florida’s 21st congressional district.

“We wear white to unite against any attempts by the Trump Administration to roll back the incredible progress women have made in the last century, and we will continue to support the advancement of all women. We will not go back,” commented Frankel, who tweeted this photo—picturing House Minority Leader, Nancy Pelosi (D-Cal.)—hours before President Trump’s Address:

Tonight, Democratic Members will wear suffragette white to oppose Republican attempts to roll back women’s progress #WomenWearWhite pic.twitter.com/lh5YAIfVGW

— Rep. Lois Frankel (@RepLoisFrankel) February 28, 2017

What these Democratic women did was so deceptively inappropriate that even Susan B. Anthony was rolling over in her grave. The irony of the whole debacle is that they commandeered an issue actually fought for by the Republican Party, and then used that stolen credit to virtue signal and self-righteously position themselves as the moral superiors to a Republican President of the United States—all for political optics. It makes one wonder whether they have any shame at all.

Certainly the most laughable part of the stunt by Pelosi, Frankel, and these various Democratic congresswomen is, just like Mrs. Clinton, the exposure of a severe lack of knowledge on their part about their own party’s history. What they fail to remember is at the same time that the GOP was crusading for women’s suffrage, the Democrats were integrating the Ku Klux Klan as a military arm of their party to carry out post-slavery racism. Unless they were planning to switch parties, one might mistake this group of Democrats dressed in all white as merely symbolizing the racist heritage of their party—not supporting policies that are a direct result of Republican virtue.

The post Women’s Suffrage: A Triumph of the Grand Old Party–Not the Democrats appeared first on Tea Party Tribune.

from http://www.therightnewsnetwork.com/womens-suffrage-a-triumph-of-the-grand-old-party-not-the-democrats/

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patriotnewsblogger-blog · 7 years

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Women’s Suffrage: A Triumph of the Grand Old Party–Not the Democrats

New Post has been published on http://www.therightnewsnetwork.com/womens-suffrage-a-triumph-of-the-grand-old-party-not-the-democrats/

Women’s Suffrage: A Triumph of the Grand Old Party–Not the Democrats

And yet, with a little research, history stands on its own two feet and illuminates the lies fabricated and propagated by the party of Wilson.

Trump, sarcastically: “Have you heard of Susan B. Anthony? I’m shocked you’ve heard of her.” https://t.co/dQ97ZRjL2v

— Daniella Diaz (@DaniellaMicaela) March 29, 2017

Here is a transcript of Trump’s remarks about the leader of the 19th century women’s suffrage movement:

To any person who watched the remarks in whole, as opposed to in selective part, would have quickly picked up on the fact that Trump’s off-hand remark was made in a sarcastic fashion.

“Have you heard of Susan B. Anthony?” Trump asks at women’s empowerment event.

— Karen Tumulty (@ktumulty) March 29, 2017

“Have you heard of Susan B. Anthony?” asks Trump at a women’s empowerment event at the White House.

— Rebecca Ballhaus (@rebeccaballhaus) March 29, 2017

“Have you heard of Susan B. Anthony?” -the President of the United States

— Emma Gray (@emmaladyrose) March 29, 2017

President Donald J Trump: “Have you heard of Susan B Anthony?”

— Frank Thorp V (@frankthorp) March 29, 2017

“Have you heard of Susan B. Anthony?” the president asked a group of women today at the White House.

— Jennifer Epstein (@jeneps) March 29, 2017

Then came the lecture. And of course, from none other than the daughter of former Secretary of State and Democratic Presidential Candidate Hillary Clinton:

Do you think Trump knows Susan B. Anthony & Frederick Douglass were friends? Worked together on universal suffrage? (Knows who they were?) https://t.co/fY5Zi171wO

— Chelsea Clinton (@ChelseaClinton) March 29, 2017

The former First Daughter, though, wasn’t the only one to lecture the President and Republicans on Susan B. Anthony and women’s suffrage during Women’s History Month.

The outfit coordination effort was led by the chair of the Democratic Women’s Working Group, Representative Lois Frankel (D-Fla.), who represents Florida’s 21st congressional district.

Tonight, Democratic Members will wear suffragette white to oppose Republican attempts to roll back women’s progress #WomenWearWhite pic.twitter.com/lh5YAIfVGW

— Rep. Lois Frankel (@RepLoisFrankel) February 28, 2017

The post Women’s Suffrage: A Triumph of the Grand Old Party–Not the Democrats appeared first on Tea Party Tribune.

http://www.therightnewsnetwork.com/womens-suffrage-a-triumph-of-the-grand-old-party-not-the-democrats/ %cats%

#conservative #republican #tea party

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hemmohaze · 5 months

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My Valentine

Word Count: 1,000+

Warning: Strong Language and Smut

A/N: I’m sorry this took such a while but I hope you love the Valentine’s Day chapter. My birthday is also in 2 days so maybe I’ll do something fun for that! Anyway happy reading!

————-

It was now offically Valentine’s day and Daniella cursed to herself as she stood in the bathroom in some oversized shirt for the time being as makeup brushes and products were sprawled everywhere on her bathroom sink.

She was slicking her hair back into a spiky bun as she was on facetime with KayKay.

‘This looks fine. I don’t have time to redo it’ She thought to herself.

“So is this like a date?” She asked as she sprinkled tajin seasoning in her Ramen noodles making Daniella furrow her eyebrows in disgust.

She cleaned up her vanity by putting her makeup brushes and sponges in their respective drawers.

“Nope it’s just two close friends going on a friendly ramen date.”

She raised an eyebrow and stopped her task at hand, “Who shamelessly flirt with one another in public, slept in the same bed, hold hands, kiss each other, and you’ve been photographed in his clothes multiple times so I would call this little outing here a date.”

“I guess it is a date if that makes you feel better.” She opened her closet looking at the white off the shoulder top and picked it up examining the fabric.

“Too much?” She asked KayKay who was sitting on her couch, eating the spicy noodles while looking at the fabric through the phone.

“Just enough. It’s sexy, yet classy. Saying I wanna get dicked down but getting ate out would be enough.”

Daniella may or may not have gone a couple rounds with her vibrator last night while thinking about Calum and how it would feel if he just rubbed her clit from behind while they were in the middle of a dirty fucking session.

But nobody needed to know that except her.

Her eyes’s widened as she slipped on a pair of wide legged jeans and her black kitten heels. She wasn’t that tall and this gave her some sort of height compared to Calum.

Her phone buzzed with a Ring doorbell notification that someone was at the front door, her golden doodle Pepper barking and scratching to see who it was.

“Go get your man girl. He’s outside I’m guessing. I hear Pepper scratching at the door.” KayKay announced, wiggling her fingers suggestively.

“Not my man.” Daniella defended as she sprayed some Miss Dior perfume on her wrists.

“Not your man yet you’re using Miss Dior, suree. And you’re getting Ramen together on Valentine’s day. This is a date.”

“I’m gonna go now. I’ll call you later.” She bid her goodbye before hanging up.

She trotted downstairs and looked at her reflection in her phone before opening her door, seeing Calum sporting his blond grown out buzzcut and she would be lying if it didn’t make her weak in the knees.

“Hey!” They said at the same time. Pepper ran up to Calum’s leg and rubbed her nose against his leg making him chuckle and pick her up.

“Even after 2 years of you having Pep, she still loves me more than you.”

Daniella scoffed while filling up the dog’s water bowl.

“She smells Duke on your clothes don’t even with me. She loves her mommy.”

Grabbing her wallet with her essentials like her license and extra cash from the rack and she grabbed Pepper from Cal’s arms and placed her in the crate, making her whine. “I know baby. I’ll be back soon though.”

"Got everything?"

She nodded and made her way to Calum's new G-Wagon.

"We should get going before traffic picks up." Daniella stated before her phone automatically connecting to his bluetooth and playing Cruel Summer as it was on repeat in her house.

He started the car wordlessly before turning on the main road on the way to the ramen place.

Calum snook a couple of looks of Daniella singing with the window down, without thought he reached over and placed his hand on her jean clad thigh.

She paid no attention to it as she kept singing along to the Taylor Swift song playing.

20 minutes later they pulled up at the ramen place as Calum searched for a parking space, not wanting to pay the 10 dollars for public parking.

"You could just parallel park for free." She suggested looking at an empty row of parallel parking spaces.

"I could but I just really don't want to, but looks like I'm gonna have to."

He set the car in reverse. Grabbing Daniella's headrest to see him backing up in a straight line and pulling forward. He put the car in park.

Calum got out before Daniella could open her door and opened it for her.

"And they say chivalry is dead." She grabbed his hand as they walked in and sat down.

Walking out together hand in hand a while later in laughter as they were talking about the lady who was cursing at one of the workers for getting her order wrong apparently.

"Oh my god that poor girl she looked like she was gonna cry. She's probably just a teenager and working her first job. I feel so bad for her." Daniella sympathized with the young girl.

They soon pulled back into his driveway and she got out with the leftover ramen in the takeout bag. Daniella didn’t believe in wasting food.

Duke approached Daniella as soon as Calum opened the door, yipping at her with excitement in his puppy eyes.

“Duke! Hi little man, I missed you so much.” She baby talked him and gave him kisses on his fur as she sat down on Calum’s couch, him turning on Criminal Minds season they were on.

“He only likes you right now cause he smells Pepper.”

“Whatever you’re just mad your son likes me more.”

By the time they ended their binge of 6 episodes, Daniella had fallen asleep with Duke in her lap as her head was on his chest with his arm around her exposed shoulder of her top.

“Daniella. Wake up.” He shook her gently making her squint her eyes to realize where she was. Duke climbing off her lap and wandering somewhere else in the house.

“I always end up falling asleep here.” She mumbled in disappointment. You smell good Cal.” She mumbled still half asleep against his chest. He was wearing a Calvin Kiln cologne he’s been wearing after he took from Ashton’s house after a night out.

“Thanks.”

They looked into each other’s eyes and their breathing picking up as Calum made the first move and captured her full lips with his. Her eyes widened in shock but soon melted into his touch.

She moved onto his lap as their lips never left each other’s, her thumbs stroking his cheek. Their sloppy make-out session still going on. His lips traveling down to her neck marking her skin with little purple bruises.

She pulled away first, her red lipstick smudged and lips swollen from the intensity of the kiss. Both of them giggled at the sexual tension in the air that could be cut through like a knife.

“Nice marks.” He smirked.

“They’re as sexy as the one who put them there.”

Soon enough they went back to making out, Daniella rolled her hips slightly against his hard on making her sigh in his mouth.

Continuing her actions, Calum’s hands gripped her ass through her jeans. “Go on baby, get yourself off on my lap.” He spoke softly in her ear.

She sat on his hard cock. He let out a groan as she rocked against his hardened cock. He gripped her ass in his hands and guided her along.

She leaned her neck back in pleasure, him leaning forward and sucking marks on her.

“Oh fuck.” She breathily whispered as she grabbed onto his shoulders for support as she began to move her hips back and forth against his cock.

“Your doing so good darlin.” He praised her, thumb rubbing the side of her cheek in encouragement.

She moaned out as she rutted her hips faster, chasing her high as her stomach was contracting.

“C’mon Daniella I know you’re close.” He hummed as he met her hips with thrusts as she pinched at her nipples. Her eyes rolling back in pleasure.

“Calum.” She moaned out as her hips stopped and her thighs shook slightly.

“I got ya.” He stroked her back as she came down from her high.

“How’d that feel?” He asked her with a small smirk.

She slapped his chest playfully and stretched her arms out.

“Stay with me tonight?” He asked running his hands over her hips.

She pretended to think. “I guess so.” Making him give her a blank stare.

“I’ll stay because Duke is here.”

#calum and daniella #5sos #micheal clifford #calum hood #luke hemmings #calum hood fanfic #5sos fanfic #5 seconds of summer masterlist #5 seconds of summer #calum 5sos #ashton irwin #micheal 5sos

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