#cincinnati garbage

[handeaux]

Cincinnati’s Clean-Up Campaigns Remind Us That Our Ancestors Lived Like Pigs

If you had family in Cincinnati a century ago, I have bad news for you: They wallowed in garbage. It wasn’t entirely Grandma’s and Grandpa’s fault. The City of Cincinnati took a long time to figure out trash collection. Back around 1910, for example, the city sanitation wagons picked up only two kinds of refuse – ashes and garbage. Ashes were the remnants of the fuel burned in stoves and furnaces. Garbage had a very specific definition, as set forth in the 1909 Building Code:

“The word ‘garbage’ shall be held to include all refuse of animal, fish or vegetable matter which has been used for food for man, and all refuse animal, fish or vegetable matter which was intended to be so used.”

The average household also accumulated stacks of paper and piles of rags – no paper towels back then! – and the Rag Man hauled this stuff away for sale to the local paper mills.

That left several miscellaneous categories of rubbish or trash that no one had any interest in: broken bottles and crockery, old wooden barrels, scrap lumber, anything metallic like tin cans or buttons, bricks and stones, tree branches, and so on. All of this junk just piled up in the backyard or basement or both.

In the early 1900s, a few progressive organizations tried to organize city-wide clean-up campaigns to eliminate all the junk from residential backyards. In addition to aesthetic concerns, there was a strong financial incentive for hauling away this trash. Cincinnati’s fire-insurance underwriters applauded [Cincinnati Enquirer 5 January 1906] a report demonstrating that a 1905 clean-up effort had resulted in 200 fewer fires than were recorded in the previous year. Insurers actually lowered rates for the downtown businesses after clean-up campaigns and Captain Jack Conway of the Cincinnati Salvage Corps requested regular campaigns to remove trash:

“He advocates the ‘clean up’ campaign be continued with unabated vigor until all rubbish is removed from cellars, old waste from under benches, &c., which are the most prolific source of fires.”

The Cincinnati Woman’s Club led the charge in 1907 and talked Mayor Edward J. Dempsey into supporting a thorough spring cleaning for the downtown area. The mayor asked residents to haul all that backyard and basement debris out to the curb on one fine day in June. Problem was, all of the city’s street-cleaning wagons were already committed to hauling ashes and garbage that day. It was only when Mayor Dempsey talked the very reluctant Street Repair Department into donating their 40 wagons that the campaign was made possible. Even a fleet that large was not enough to handle the accumulated detritus. According to the Cincinnati Post [10 June 1907]:

“As the Cincinnati Street-cleaning Department has not enough teams and men to clean up all that district in one day, the Woman’s Club, for which the city is making the experiment, has appealed to all firms and corporations and all individuals having wagons and teams to assist in the work Wednesday, June 12. That is the day upon which all the hauling will be done.”

Annual “house cleaning days” gathered enough support to continue for several years, but the Woman’s Club had other initiatives to support and leadership for the campaign transferred to the Chamber of Commerce, which super-sized the operation. For the 1914 campaign, the Chamber set aside several weeks in the spring for the clean-up, followed by a city-wide inspection. The Chamber paid for 100,000 lapel buttons promoting the effort and printed 250,000 circulars informing residents how to participate.

The Chamber even coughed up a $25 prize for the best “Clean Up and Paint Up” song. The winning lyrics were composed by Dr. Stephen E. Slocum, professor of applied mathematics at the University of Cincinnati, whose words were set to music by Walter H. Aiken, director of music for the Cincinnati Public Schools. The local schools stepped up to promote the clean-up campaign, not only by distributing brochures and flyers, but by planting gardens in most of the city’s schoolyards.

In addition to aesthetics and fire safety, the 1914 campaign encouraged sanitary measures to stop the spread of flies. At a time when the majority of vehicles on Cincinnati’s roads were horse-drawn, manure piled up all through the city, supporting an infestation of flies unimaginable today.

After weeks of encouraging residents to tidy up their properties, the Chamber coordinated a city-wide inspection to document compliance and results. According to the annual report, some citizens were none to happy about having their domestic habits evaluated:

“There were some people with a misconception of the meaning of personal liberty who refused to allow inspection of their premises and some preferred not to aid in a general ‘clean up’ for fear it would be only spasmodic and not result in permanent good.”

Despite scattered opposition, the Chamber bragged that the 1914 campaign resulted in a $600,000 reduction in fire loss, from $1.3 million in 1913 to less than $800,000 in 1914. Nearly 8,000 wagonloads of trash were hauled out of residential areas. That success led to an even more ambitious campaign plan for 1915. In fact, the Chamber may have become a victim of its own success. A report suggests that few of the campaign’s ambitious goals were achieved in 1915, although the results were still impressive.

At the conclusion of the 1915 clean-up period, the Chamber coordinated city-wide inspections. More than 42,000 premises received a visit, with 30,000 earning a clean certification. The remaining 12,000 properties appalled the inspectors, who identified nearly 35,000 defects ranging from unsecured garbage and ash cans to obstructed fire escapes to overflowing privy vaults and unsanitary toilets to open manure piles.

More than 300 buildings were found in such deplorable condition that they were ordered razed. The city located nearly 1,300 illegally maintained backyard outhouses and ordered them replaced with flush toilets that could still be located in the backyard if preferred!

Thanks to the generosity of the Mabley & Carew Company, clean-up participants planted more than 84,000 trees on Cincinnati’s barren hillsides.

While congratulating itself on a job well done, the Chamber dinged the city administration for outdated and ineffective procedures for removing garbage and other refuse:

“The city has made no step forward for the disposal of its waste, except garbage, since its first log cabin was built in January 1789. As the population has increased, the dumps have grown in size and become nearer to built up residence sections. This has resulted in strenuous complaints from time to time, and the elimination of those dumps against which pressure has become too strong to be resisted by city officials.”

Alas, with the city administration still under the thumb of the Boss Cox machine, city officials could resist any level of public pressure without even breaking a sweat.

[jo-harrington]

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 12 - Ow!

Summary: Gareth has a tummy ache.

Word Count: 898

Rating: T

Warnings/Themes: Food, Gareth is a glutton (for punishment), poop talk, vomiting, food poisoning

Check Out the Main Post for @corrodedcoffinfest here! Even if you didn’t start on Day 1, you can still join!

Tagging: @the-unforgivenn at her request.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

One thing the guys had to learn quickly when they finally got on the road for their first “tour”—basically an extended road trip in the van, hitting different summer fests through the Midwest—was that injuries happened.

Cuts, bruises, pulled muscles, a sprained wrist, sunburns.

But the worst of all?

"Guys, my stomach really hurts."

A tummy ache.

They happened quite a bit, and they struck hard, especially with all of the fried foods and gas station snacks that the guys were eating.

Not to mention all of the cheese festivals they hit in Wisconsin while Eddie had a bad case of lactose intolerance.

"It's ok guys," he'd pant from the inside of many-a-port-a-potty. "I'll be fine."

But they struck especially hard with Gareth, Corroded Coffin's personal garbage disposal.

“Guess you guys never noticed when my mom bought all the snacks for us,” he shrugged off the complaints about him eating them out of house and home. “I’m a growing boy.”

“Growing boy my ass Gare,” Jeff shoved him out of the way as they headed into the gas station for yet another snack run. “If this was a growth spurt, you’d be taller by now, Jesus.”

“Hey!!!”

The unfortunate thing about that was that his eyes were often bigger than his stomach, and for a kid who'd never left Indiana before, he never knew when he was about to get the chance to try some of these local favorites again.

Deep Dish in Chicago, Skyline Chili in Cincinnati, Beer-boiled Brats in Milwaukee

What did him in, or so they all thought, was a piece of Gooey Butter Cake in St. Louis.

It was a long, hot day. One of the last out-of-state stops on the tour before they headed back for a gig in Fort Wayne and Gareth had been eyeballing the little stand hocking baked goods all day.

He'd gotten the last slice at the end of the night.

"I seriously wouldn't eat that if I was you," Dave scrunched his nose in disgust. "It's been out all day."

"It's no different than any of this other fair food we've had," Gareth simply shrugged and shoved a bite in his mouth. Heavenly, he thought as his tastebuds exploded with rich sweetness.

"Your funeral," Dave scoffed.

And wouldn't you know? It nearly was.

It started with the rumbles late into the night, Eddie at the wheel driving along long stretches of dark rural highway when Gareth started groaning from his place in the back.

"Lemme know if you're gonna shit yourself," he called back and tossed their handy-dandy bottle of pepto to his friend. "We're probably not gonna reach a rest stop until we hit the interstate so I'll have to pull over."

"I'll be ok," Gareth grunted and chugged the chalky pink liquid.

But by the time they got on the interstate, his aching stomach turned into sharp pains, everyone was awake.

Then they all started to worry when he announced, maybe two hours away from Hawkins, that they needed to pull over so he could puke.

"I swear to god if you puke in my van," Eddie tried to grumble lightheartedly but as soon as the van was in park, Gareth was tripping over Dave's legs and their equipment to empty the contents of his stomach.

And when he was done? He looked like a corpse.

Green around the gills, hair matted with sweat, eyes glassy.

Jeff traded seats with him for the rest of the ride home and Eddie drove through some fast food place to grab as big of a sprite that he could and a plastic bag in case they couldn't stop in time.

Eddie broke more than a few traffic laws just to get back home a little faster.

It was scary, for all of them, for their little buddy to be so visibly sick, shaking with the chills, and--at least in their eyes--on Death's Doorstep.

Finally when they pulled into the Emerson's driveway, it was like a full team operation to get Gare into the house and into bed, the little trashcan from the bathroom set up beside him.

Mrs. E was worried--relieved that they made it home safe, but worried--and it had the other three boys feeling so guilty for taking this trip in the first place. Especially if anything terrible happened to their friend.

Come morning, Gareth woke up feeling worlds better--empty--and shocked to find his friends asleep on the floor of his bedroom.

"Uh, guys?" he woke them up, voice scratchy. "Guys wake up."

Before he realized, they were all awake and piling onto his bed to touch his forehead and rub his stomach and Dave even had the audacity to comment on how bad his breath was.

"Get off," he chuckled and pushed his friends away.

"How do you feel?" Eddie questioned.

"Better, a little sore," he admitted. "Feels like I ate shards of glass. But better."

"Maybe you did," Dave tried to laugh his worry off. "I told you not to trust that cake."

It got a chuckle out of everyone, and Gareth vowed not to trust fair food ever again.

"I don't think I'll ever eat again actually," he groaned.

But when Mrs. E woke up soon after and came to check on the boys, then said she was making breakfast, Gareth was the first to admit,

"What are we having? I'm starving."

[morbidology]

On the morning of September 25, 1966, Jerry Bricca, a 28-year-old chemical engineer, left his residence in Cincinnati to head to work. Around 8PM, after making a quick stop to buy some milk, he returned to the house he shared with his 23-year-old wife, Linda, and their 4-year-old daughter, Debbie. Upon his arrival, he realized it was garbage collection day, so he braved the pouring rain to take the trash bin to the curb outside their family home. A neighbor recalls a brief conversation with Jerry before he re-entered his house.

However, what unfolded inside the Bricca home that night remains a disturbing and unsolved mystery. Two days later, when Jerry failed to appear at a scheduled business meeting, the gruesome discovery was made - the entire Bricca family had been brutally murdered within their home. According to the autopsy report, Jerry had suffered nine stab wounds, Linda eight, and little Debbie four, with each stab penetrating her small body.

Despite an extensive investigation, the case remains unresolved to this day.

[strawberryblondebutch]

I was assigned Hillbilly Elegy in graduate school by a well-meaning white woman from a “comfortable” Long Island family, who believed it was an important insight into the lives of rural white Americans. Like most people, I found it a very frustrating book, but I can’t entirely write it off as garbage. What made it frustrating is that Vance has a salient point he doesn’t know that he’s making, because he’s too committed to the grift.

There were fleeting moments where the book resonated with me — mostly the parts describing Vance’s time in undergrad and later at Ivy League law school. He spent his entire youth thinking that an elite degree was the great leveler, that just getting your foot in the door will be enough to fix him, only to realize that he’s woefully unprepared for a world which his classmates inhabit so easily.

And this is something that I’ve observed anecdotally as well as read the papers on. That poor students, or students from a neglectful background, struggle to take advantage of the resources that are supposed to make an elite degree the great leveler. If your guardians are mostly concerned with keeping you alive, they’re not teaching you how to network.

That should have been the point of the book. But Vance loves a grift. He was wrapping up undergrad right around the time the state of Wisconsin decided that Russ Feingold’s Rhodes scholarship made him out of touch. Think-tank liberals wanted to understand why those dumb rural poors would vote against their own self-interests, and Vance decided, hey! I can be a voice for those dumb rural poors!

So he forces everything back to a central lie: that his Cincinnati suburb is some decrepit hellhole from which no one escapes. And that’s where his book falls apart. Because every actual resonant moment has to connect back to the lie he’s woven to sell copies.

[sgtmickeyslaughter]

WEEKLY TAG WEDNESDAY

happy wednesday everyone! thanks for tagging me @lingy910y @energievie @creepkinginc @heymrspatel @thepupperino

Name: gigi

Age: 24

Astrological sign: such a virgo i was born on the first day of the season, right on time

Upon which continent do you reside: north america

Tell us how you're feeling right now using 3-5 emojis: 😴☁️🧿

What's your favorite flavor of gum? wrigleys doublemint

What's the last movie you watched? the little hours, it was very funny but not what i was expecting

What was your worst subject in high school? biology and chemistry, i liked the big ideas and theories but could not care less about the minutia

What's the job you stayed at for the shortest period of time? in highschool i worked at this coffee shop opened by this greek couple who were like, we want to pay everyone fairly which was great but then hired about ten more people than they needed so we all got fired about 3 months in

What's your favorite thing to do at an amusement park? im very scared of rides but i used to love the big swinging thing when i was young and fearless. ive actually never been to an amusment park, just my hometowns county fair so i loved the livestock show, art show, and good food

What condiments go on top of the perfect hot dog (meat or plant-based)? the works

Cincinnati chili, thoughts? hmmm dont really know what that is, i dont like chili usually but i do love obscure regional american dishes so ill say neutral thoughts for now

Do you sleep with a plushie? i have a few stuffed animals, a couple bunnies and a teddy bear and i sleep with them when im sad

How do you feel about thunderstorms? i like them from a distance, when they start doing a little too much i get nervous

What's the last animal you touched? i saw my dad's dog when i was out west last week, she called me the devil to my face for not letting her eat garbage from the ground!

Grab the nearest item with words on it that ISNT a book and tell me the final word: sennelier (watercolors)

Have you ever forgotten to do an assignment until the night before its due? no, see question 3

@iansw0rld @mmmichyyy @spookygingerr @mickittotheman @jrooc

@ian-galagher @mickeym4ndy @doshiart @gallawitchxx @mickeysgaymom

@softmick @deathclassic @blue-disco-lights @em-harlsnow @mybrainismelted

[piratical-princess]

Even though I have been stepping out of the box for Christmas movies this year, there is one I can never skip and I must always share it with you, though I fear no one else appreciates it the way I do. This is a film I watched so often, off season, that my babysitter actually banned it from the house, a film so fascinating and studded with talent and complex themes that critics have not even attempted to analyze it. I’m talking about the stupefying, the emotional, the powerful, Babes In Toyland.

Keanu Reeves and Drew Barrymore star in this 90s musical. It’s Christmas in Mother Goose land where the entire economy is cookie based. The villain lives in a giant bowling ball with two Nosferatus and an army of garbage monsters. Pat Morita (Mr. Miyagi) is Santa Claus. There is a song about Cincinnati that magically stops our heroes from turning into trolls. Yes, it is available on youtube and yes, you should watch it immediately. You’re welcome, happy holidays.

[puzzlekinq]

please talk about arnold spielberg. tell me things about him. the only thing i know about him is that he's steven's dad. and i also know he has great boobs. but you and dean are the only reasons why i know that.

his birthday is february 6th 1917 and he died at 103 years old. he was born in cincinnati. he was an electrical engineer. he helped develop the ge-200 series of computers which were used for data processing. he started building radios at nine years old. he built a crystal radio receiver out of parts from garbage cans. he helped design airplane antennas. him got divorced in 1965 and he didnt remarry until 2016.

there are many interesting facts about arnie :3

[joi-in-the-tardis]

That grace I was talking about yesterday? Still trying to find it. I'm nauseated with nerves this morning because my trainer is going more hands off this morning and I feel like I don't know anything.

But, I do. And we won't know where my gaps are until I try the accounting by myself. I understand most of the moving pieces, it's just knowing when to do them and fine tuning.

It's only day 3 of my training and she's stuffed a lot of tiny bits of paper and computer screens into my noggin. She doesn't think I'm stupid. I'm not stupid.

I wouldn't expect a new baker to have full understanding on the third day. I don't know why I expect it for myself doing this.

Right before I finish a project is the period where I hate it and I want to toss it in the garbage. I'll probably feel more competent after today. So long as I don't puke.

Yesterday's big question, carrying over to today is: the accounting gig is a 5am shift. I've been told I'm going to be a 9-10am shift. So. I'm not sure if I'll be doing this sometimes and they've fibbed to me. Or, if I need to know this to supervise the person who does do it (they did say there is another person who usually does the accounting?). Or if this is a setup. My time in Cincinnati Division has taught me to be wary of that last one. Delta seems different, but it's still the same company.

[spaceoperetta]

Watched three Todd Haynes movies because they were leaving Mubi.

My ranking:

Velvet Goldmine (loved it, the gay love is performative, the gay love is real, the Baby's On Fire scene aka the performative electric guitar blowjob on stage will live in my head forever)

Safe - took a while for it to get going but I enjoyed it. Had to sit with it for a few minutes after. Julianne Moore did a great job and I'm going to think of it when I'm driving behind a garbage truck. Thematically has only gotten more relevant.

I'm Not There - to be honest I quit after two hours out of the two and a half because I was tired and because while I saw what it was trying to do and got it, I didn't really...feel anything while watching it. The only shot that stuck out to me was the electric performance as Tommy Guns

general addendum: I'd previously seen Carol (which underwhelmed me which was disappointing bc I loved The Price of Salt and the main emotional reaction I had was 'oh look it's I-75 southbound through Cincinnati, I've driven there)

[arjaandsimoni]

Flying Free

Downtown Cincinnati

Stephanie and Arja walked out of the cinema onto the streets of Cincinnati, the Indian girl finishing off her coke before tossing it in the garbage. “Huh, those movies were a lot different from the games.” she shrugged, “Nice to actually see it early though. Normally I have to use a VPN or wait months for them to reach India.” she grinned.

“Yeaaaaaah, you think they’d be better at getting them out now. I mean the freakin’ internet exists.” replied Stephanie, shrugging her shoulders as they walked through the city. She was still watching for the naga (first rule of being a hunter: if you don’t find a body DON’T ASSUME ITS DEAD) but so far the coast was clear. She’d had a bit of a freak out moment when they heard a hissing noise earlier, but it turned out someone had driven over a busted bottle and blew a hole in their tire.

The two had met up earlier that morning and gone out to see Sonic the Hedgehog 2 and now were basically two kids in the city looking for anything to occupy their time.

“So… I did some research online about Hanuman after last night…” she nodded, “He’s really your ancestor?” asked Stephanie.

Arja grinned at her, “Yep! Dad���s mortal, but my mom is like me. They met years ago when he was an explorer in India. He found a path that led to the supernatural world reflection of our homeland and almost got killed by a rakshasa, but my mom rescued him and the two just sorta hit it off. Few years later I’m there and dad retires from exploring and gets into his family’s business of politics and such. His family act as diplomats for India but are also one of the noble houses in Jaipur.” she nodded.

“Oh, neat. Clan Fullmoon is a bit different… we don’t have a divine ancestor, it’s more of a long-standing pact with one…” replied Stephanie, and she went on to explain.

Centuries ago, before the rise of the Roman Empire, back even before the Iron Age, Ireland was not a very good place to live. The Fair Folk preyed on humanity with reckless abandon and dark forces lurked around every corner, but the worst of it all were the werewolves.

These days packs of werewolves were much more civilized. They stayed to the virgin forests and wild areas of the world or learned to blend in with humanity, but in the old times they were wild and vicious beings, true monsters who saw humans as just another form of prey no different from wild deer or boar.

The legend went that a village, the name lost in the distant past, was slaughtered by one of the wolf packs, only two people able to escape from it: Aidan and Deirdre, two young lovers recently wed to each other who hid under the rubble of their collapsed home while the werewolves killed and ate their friends and family.

As they fled their souls cried out for vengeance and justice against the monsters who’d destroyed their lives, and Morrigan heard their plea. The Maven herself appeared before them and offered them a pact. They pledge themselves and all their descendants to her, and she would grant them power so that they would never again need fear the predations of the dark creatures of the night.

Aidan took on her aspect as a Goddess of War, becoming stronger than any man in Ireland. He became able to beat a werewolf to death with his bare hands if need be, his skin toughening like hard leather and gaining stamina enough to run through the woods for three days and nights without tiring.

Deirdre took on her aspect as the Queen of Ravens, gaining the power to transform and become capable of flight as well as to command storms and winds. While her husband fought their enemies directly she would harry them with gale force winds, swirling tornados, and bright crashing lighting clouds.

Eventually Deirdre became pregnant, and they discovered that their child had inherited the Maven’s gifts as well. They had a son, then a daughter, both of whom had the same powers as their father and mother respectively, and eventually those children grew, wed, and had children of their own, and the line continued on and on to the present day.

“… and as the family got bigger we became famous among old Ireland for hunting down rogue werewolf packs. We got a reputation as ‘Those Who Hunt By The Light of the Full Moon.’ Bit of a mouthful in Gaelic though so it eventually got shortened to just ‘Clan Fullmoon.’” she nodded. “I dunno how true it is that Deirdre could actually make entire lightning storms and such though, none of the Clan I’ve ever met could pull THAT off. Most I can do is localized windstorm and those ‘mine’ things you saw me use on that naga the other night, also fly. I can’t actually fly fly, I’m just using my magic to lift myself up in my bird form by catching my own wind under my wings.” she nodded.

“Yeah, see, that sounds exactly like the garuda I know back home! Only difference is they’re all Indian like me, and their wings are green, not black.” replied Arja. “Its just so wild, how is it your family and their people have the same things?” she scratched at her hair a bit.

Stephanie shrugged, “Heck if I know. Sometimes stuff is just weird. My big brother Nelen has been all over and he’s seen all sorts of crazy things. Heck he helped us stop this crazy faerie woman from taking my cousin last spring. She was this little girl looking thing that could summon toy-monsters.”

Arja raised her eyebrow at her, “… seriously?” she asked, “So what, like a fanged Playstation?”

“No no, like older-style toys. Like teddy bears the size of real bears and stuff.” she clarified.

“… riiiiiight.” chuckled the Indian girl. “Must’ve been a crazy fight.”

Stephanie nodded, thinking back to how that fight ended and what she saw her brother unleash to defeat Isolde, “… yes… yes it most certainly was…” she muttered. “… hey wanna get ice cream?” she asked.

“Yogurt for me, but sure!” grinned Arja.

Meanwhile back in Edgewood

Catherine was making lunch with the news playing in the background.

As she finished up her pasta on the stove she paused, hearing the newscaster’s voice.

“In other news, Monsters at the Levy? Covington has had a lot of bizarre stories lately but this one takes the cake. Eyewitnesses state they saw some sort of ‘giant snake thing’ fighting a…” the newscaster stopped to check the notes, “… ‘golden monkey and two bird kids…’ We only have a small photo from someone’s camera, and its hard to see but you can make out… well… SOMEthing…” he said.

She felt a chill go down her spine, turning to look at the small television on her counter next to the stove.

Sure enough, it looked grainy as hell, the camera must have been shaking badly… but there was no mistaking that flame-red hair.

“Monsters at the riverfront? I dunno Tom, that looks like a job for Superman if you ask me.” chuckled his co-host.

“Yeah Tina, probably just some publicity stunt for a movie but I’ll say this. Hollywood has our attention.” he grinned.

Behind her, her phone began to ring… the caller ID showing a number with Ireland’s country code…

Back in Cincinnati

Arja and Stephanie were at Fountain Square, sitting next to the fountain itself.

The fountain was a popular tourist destination and hangout for locals as well. There was usually a band playing there on the stage and the spray from the fountain gave a pleasingly cool mist even in the hotter summer months. The two had finished off their treats by now and were just enjoying the rest of their day. “So…” said Stephanie, “How long are you and your dad gonna be in town?” she asked.

“Oh, yanno… a day or two, maybe. He likes to take his time on these trips when he can. He was an explorer back in the day so he always enjoys just, well, exploring. Looking around. Believe it or not he’s a big nut for smaller markets… um… I think they’re called Flea Markets in this country?” she tried, Arja looking up in thought at that.

Stephanie giggled, “No way, really?! He’s like some bigshot in India isn’t he?”

“Hey! He got into exploration to find rare and unusual relics and those places always have antiques and such for sale. He’s found some really neat stuff just browsing around those.” Arja laughed back, “Really, our house back home is kinda half-museum.”

Stephanie smirked, “Sounds like something my brother would like. He’s always got this messenger bag with him filled with all sorts of crazy stuff. He did some sort of spell on it so the inside is huge, like truck sized.”

Arja grinned, then paused as her phone buzzed. She looked at the front and sighed, “Uuuuugh…” she huffed, looking upwards, “Dad says one of the bigwigs from that Proctor and whatsits company invited us to dinner. I gotta go play the meek little Indian girl for his business buddies…” she huffed, “He knows I hate it so he’ll make it up to me but… uuuuugh…” she rolled her eyes.

Stephanie’s smile faltered a bit, “Well… its your parents, what can ya do?” she shrugged.

Arja nodded, “Yeah… I’d better head back to our hotel. Thanks for hanging out today.” she grinned, leaning in and kissing Stephanie on the cheek, then hopping up and heading off into the crowd, following the GPS on her phone.

Stephanie’s eyes went huge at the kiss, her face flushed. “Sure… no problem…” she muttered, staring into the fountain’s spray as Arja took off. “Anytime…” she added.

A bit later she got onto a metro bus back to Kentucky, mumbling, “My pleasure Arja, we can do it again tomorrow…”

When she transferred from the metro to the TANK (Transit Authority of Northern Kentucky) bus she was whispering, “Anytime…” over and over under her breath, she hadn’t blinked in a while either.

By the time the bus squeaked to a halt in Edgewood the shock had mostly worn off, the girl grinning wide enough to impress her brother’s cat as she got off. She stood at the stop as it rolled away, then bunched up a bit and stomped her feet excitedly, “Ehehehehehehehe!” she squealed, then did a sort of twirl and whistled out a complex melody as all the nearby flowers suddenly got caught in a gale, the petals breaking free and swirling up into the sky.

"She kissed me she kissed me she kissed me she kissed me!” she giggled uncontrollably. If Isolde were here she’d be getting a contact buzz just by being in the same post code as those emotions, the girl practically dancing back home. “She’s just so AMAZING! She’s so cool and confident and powerful and she’s not afraid to stare down a huge monster like that and we actually can do stuff together and aaaaaaaaaaah!” she shook herself, ignoring the weird looks from passerby.

“Though…” she paused, “I suppose that could mean something different in India? Is India like France? Is a kiss on the cheek there just, like, their way of shaking hands?” she thought aloud, glancing up as she tapped her chin.

She blinked, then got out her phone, then looked it up. “… nooooo, huh… public displays of affection are banned there? Yikes…”

“Soooo, that means it means a lot… more there than it does here? I mean we were in public…” she blinked slowly, the blush returning to her cheeks, then she squealed excitedly, “EEEEEEEE!” she grinned, practically skipping up the path to her house. “Oh maaaaaaaaan nothing can ruin this day!” she giggled excitedly.

Then she got inside and the door slammed shut behind her.

Catherine Fullmoon was standing there, her face like the wrath of a vengeful deity.

“Stephanie. We need to TALK.” she said in a tone that suggested ‘I am calm now, but I am holding onto it by my goddamn TEETH.’

Moments later, in the kitchen

She slapped the picture down that she’d printed off her computer, pointing to the blurry image of a girl in the sky. It was nighttime so her wings weren’t really visible, but there was no mistaking that hair.

“YOU… YOU… FOOLISH LITTLE… YOUR GRANDFATHER WAS ALL SET TO DEMAND I SURRENDER YOU TO HIM! I HAD TO BEG HIM FOR LENIENCY!” she screamed, her face red.

Stephanie stared at the image. Dammit, how did she miss that? Okay yeah so there was a giant snake monster but she should have known better!

“I… w-well what was I supposed to do then?! Run to Steve's house and drag Roger down to the riverfront?” she demanded, looking up at her mother. “I was right THERE! I can do SOMETHING when that happens!” she shouted.

“Stephanie, I know… believe me I damn well KNOW! But Dad was… I’d never heard him so furious. He had photographic PROOF that you were violating his ban on magic use! As Patriarch he could have executed you!” she shouted, “Do you want to wind up like your brother?! On the run from my father and his crazy goon squad?!”

“Well why not?! He seems to be doing okay!” she shot back.

The Wulfshead Pub

Nelen looked up from his drink, then frowned and dug a finger into his ear, “My ears are burning…” he muttered.

Loren smirked, “ ‘s wut ye get fer usin’ yer demon ta clean ‘em cous…”

Nelen gave her an annoyed look, “I only did that once… and it was a really stubborn bit of wax.” he grumbled.

Behind them Dawn was doing karaoke again, a spirited rendition of ‘I Fought the Law and the Law Won.’

Edgewood

Catherine glared at her daughter, “I try and I try and I try… Stephanie. Its over.” she nodded, pointing to the fireplace.

She looked past her, then shrieked at what she saw. Catherine had found her hideout in the woods and cleaned it out. Her witch’s kit, the silver dagger, the shillelagh with the cold iron head, all of it was in it and the fire was roaring bright. “MOM! THAT’S MY… DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT WAS TO FIND THOSE THINGS?! I HAD TO MAKE THE STAFF MYSELF!” she screamed.

“I DON’T CARE STEPHANIE! ITS DONE, ITS OVER! NO MORE FLYING AROUND TOWN! NO MORE HUNTING! NOTHING! YOU ARE GOING TO GO TO SCHOOL AND LIVE YOUR LIVE AS A MUNDANE GIRL AND IF I EVEN SEE A BLACK FEATHER IN YOUR ROOM YOU’RE GOING TO BE GROUNDED UNTIL YOU LEAVE FOR COLLEGE!” she roared back.

Stephanie’s mouth opened and closed, then she turned and bolted up the stairs to her room. A moment later the door slammed shut.

Catherine shook her head, “Dammit girl, I know exactly what you mean, I know how hard it is to pretend I can’t see that happening… but I don’t want my mad father to kill you for it.” she sighed.

Stephanie was curled up on the floor of her room, her face pressed into her legs as she sobbed into her knees. She hated this, she hated having to do this. She wanted to use her magic, she wanted to fly, she wanted to fight back those things that threatened people. She wanted to SO damn bad… but…

… and then her phone rang.

Stephanie looked at the number, then answered it, “A-arja?” she asked.

“Heeeeeey, so… change of plans. My dad got called back to India…” she said apologetically, “Look I’m really really sorry, I would’ve loved to get to know you more but, yanno, can’t stay behind while he goes back home…”

She froze, the girl’s mouth moving but nothing coming out.

“… Stephanie? Are you there?” she asked, “Um… look, if this was about that kiss… just… l-look, you’re really great and stuff, I mean that was amazing how you just leapt in and helped me and my dad and all and… well… kiiiiinda got a weakness for that, not gonna lie… but… yeah… sorry, hope I didn’t get your hopes up. I mean… we’re not even from the same country… but… if we were…” she coughed awkwardly, “Um… anyways, I gotta go, we’re actually at the airport now. I’ll text when I can 'kay?” she said, then the phone clicked off…

Stephanie sat there, staring at the wall, a ringing in her ears. Her mother had wrecked her plans and outright forbidden her to use magic, her grandfather may try to kill her if she did, and this girl… this amazing girl… this girl whose kiss had made her feel like she could fly to the moon and back… was leaving… for another country…

Everyone has their breaking points, and hers had just been hit with a hammer.

She lept to her feet and kicked off her shoes, running to the window and pulling on it, then looking down when it refused to budge. Her mother was serious. She’d nailed the window shut!

Stephanie’s eye twitched, “No… no no no no no no NO!” she snarled, leaping back. A second later there was a tremendous crash and Catherine jumped up from the chair in the living room she’d been sulking in just in time to see her daughter’s bedroom window crashing into the backyard, with most of the wall still attached!

“STEPHANIE! STEPHANIE DON’T YOU DARE!” she shouted, running up the stairs and pushing open the door… and finding only an empty room with a destroyed wall, and her daughter gone.

The Skies Over Northern Kentucky

Its safe to say that Stephanie Fullmoon wasn’t really thinking very clearly at the moment. Her wings flapped as she whistled up a hurricane’s worth of wind, propelling herself towards Covington like a bullet. She could have done this in any number of locations nearer to her home, but she knew her mother wouldn’t use magic and she wanted some distance before she could get the car started and try to come after her.

She had to go, she had to get out, she had to find her… she said Jaipur right?! She heard her say it, and she knew... well… she heard Dawn say it and Nelen say it. She knew the passphrase even if she didn’t know what it meant!

The forests were a blur under her as the skyline of Cincinnati loomed ahead, the girl angling down and aiming for an alleyway, landing in it and looking around, her head pounding. “Alright alright… um… how’d it go… dammit…” she stammered, then put her hand on the wall. “I think it was like this… and…” she tried saying the words… then again… then once more… and finally on the fourth try the door to the Wulfshead Club materialized before her!

She shoved the door open and stumbled inside, then looked up at a loud grinding sound. Standing next to the door was a massive clay golem wearing a teeshirt, it's head turning to focus it's fiery gaze on Stephanie.

“S-sorry! Thought this was the Dairy Queen!” she said, spinning the dials frantically on the door until it read Jaipur India, then shoving it back open and rushing through into a throng of people in a city halfway across the world.

Loren watched as the door shut, then raised her eyebrow, “… nae, couldnae been…” she shook her head, then looked up as Nelen came back from the men’s room, rubbing hand sanitizer on his fingers (he couldn’t very well wash his hands around Merihim’s seal after all.)

“Sorry about that Loren, miss anything?” he asked.

Loren shrugged, “Eh, jus’ a doppelganger or somethin’ cous. Already buggered off.” she replied, downing her drink. Dawn meanwhile was keeping up the karaoke, singing ‘Run to the Hills’ by Iron Maiden.

Jaipur, India

Now that she was actually here the fire in her head was finally beginning to dissipate… and Stephanie realized how badly she’d screwed up. If a single grainy photograph had convinced Franklin she was violating his magic taboo having blasted the wall off her bedroom would definitely prove it.

Also, from the sounds and sights around her she forgot one maaaaaaaaaajor problem… she wasn’t Indian.

She stood out like a crow in a snowfield, and nothing she was hearing from anyone around her made even the slightest bit of sense. Everyone around her was speaking in Hindi, Stephanie could only listen in bewilderment.

Also she had no money, no extra clothes, thank GODS she at least thought to grab her PHONE…

She paused, then grinned. “My phone!” she gasped, then took out the phone and opened it up. Still mostly charged, but gods only knew how long that’d hold out. She got her phone but no charger! She opened the messenger app, then texted Arja.

‘So, rando Q… what’s your home address in Jaipur?’

After about three minutes, Arja responded.

‘Y?’

Stephanie winced, then replied…

‘I wanna send u something. It’s a surprise! ;)’

She technically wasn’t lying, this would probably surprise the heck out of her.

A moment later her phone buzzed.

‘Aww, u don’t gotta do that… but if u insist…’ and then there was a mailing address behind it.

Stephanie quickly copied it, opened the map app, and pasted it in, then activated the GPS and the directions and let out a woosh of relief. It wasn’t far.

‘Thanks! I hope u like it! :D’

She took a breath, then looked up. “… I am so screwed it is beyond belief…” she muttered.

Late That Evening

Rajesh’s private jet landed in Jaipur. He and Arja disembarked and took a car back to their home, a rather nice mansion house in the hills above the city.

As they rode along Rajesh called ahead, “Iravati my wild lotus flower…” he smiled, “Arja and I just landed and will be home soon my dear. Pity we could not stay longer but it will be wonderful to see you again.” he chuckled.

Arja rolled her eyes, but he was always like that when he talked to her mother. He called Arja his ‘little ruby lotus’ whenever he could get away with it and it always made her blush. Parents…

“Hm? Really? Someone has been hanging around the mansion? Some westerner?” he asked.

Arja blinked at that, looking over, who the heck could that be?

“She… claims to know Arja you say? Red hair?” he asked.

Arja’s eyes widened, then she looked at her own phone. Sending her a surprise, wanting to know her address. “… no way…” she muttered, then looked up as the car drew near the gates. Two of Rajesh’s security team were standing there… and a very familiar redhead was between them.

A bit later, inside the house

Stephanie sat on the bed in Arja’s room. Rajesh was suspicious of how a young girl could beat them there in a private jet, but Arja had said, in no uncertain terms, that anyone who didn’t want to look like they jumped into a Naan oven had better leave Stephanie alone until they figured out what the hell was going on.

Given that Arja was known for a bad temper and fire breath by the staff, they didn’t argue.

“… and...” she hiccuped a bit, “… and she burned it, all my gear, and said I had to just… stop using magic, at all. I just got so angry I couldn’t see straight, and then you called and said you were leaving and…” she gasped, her eyes red, “I… I just… something in my head just stopped working right and I blew the wall off my room and flew back to Covington and came here and now I can’t go home because my grandfather will kill me!” she sobbed, burying her head in her hands.

Arja sat next to her on the bed, the young Indian girl breathing a bit heavy herself after that, “Hey hey, its alright... we can let you stay here until we figure something out. There’s plenty of room.” she nodded, “Don’t worry about it.”

At the door however Rajesh coughed meaningfully, “Arja, my little ru-“ he paused as Arja gave him a look, “… daughter… she is not even from India. She ran away from home. I sympathize, I truly do. If her grandfather really is as she says I do not wish to simply turn her over to him, but this could cause serious problems. Her mother could report this as kidnapping or…” he started, then faltered at her expression.

Arja held up a finger, “Stephanie, gimme a second, I need to discuss something with my father.” she nodded, then walked up to him and pushed him out of the room by his waist, then back against the wall. Then she shapeshifted into her monkey form and climbed up the wall with her hands and legs at his sides until her head was level with his.

“I just had to listen to a girl I really like tell me how her insane granddad is ready to KILL her for helping us back in America and how she literally fled all the way here because of it. You know those business things you take me to? Where I wear my saree and all that heavy jewelry and play your ‘oh so sweet and innocent daughter’ and stuff? If you send her home I am NEVER doing that again. Next dinner party I’m embracing mom’s side of the family and will totally let loose. Get me?” she growled, “She stays, or I become the living embodiment of the ‘reject humanity, return to monke’ meme right infront of those pompous, arrogant, ‘oh look at the cute little brown kid’ assholes you parade me infront of.”

Rajesh sighed, then smiled at her a bit, “… you are so much like your mother sometimes.” he chuckled. “Very well my dear… she may stay until we figure out some way to return her home safely and ensure she remains so.” he nodded.

Arja growled meaningfully, her tail thrashing behind her, then nodded slowly, “Good.” she nodded, then she hopped down and shifted back into her human form, going back in her room and flopping down next to Stephanie.

“He said you can stay until we find a way to get you home that makes SURE you won’t be in any danger and stuff.” she nodded, then grinned, “What he meant was ‘she can stay so my daughter won’t go fire monkey and scare the shit out of a bunch of rich white idiots next time I need her to behave.’”

Stephanie looked at her and gave a weak smile, wiping her eyes, then Arja pulled her into a tight hug.

They’d only known each other a few days, but the same could be said for any pairing of people early on. Only time would tell what would become of it. Friendship… or perhaps something much deeper.

Next Story

Previous Story

[handeaux]

In 1872, Cincinnati Ground To A Halt As The City’s Horses Succumbed To A Virus

It sounds like something out of a science fiction movie. For nearly three weeks in the autumn of 1872, Cincinnati was paralyzed by a virus with no known cure.

Humans were not susceptible to this virus. It only affected horses, but the entire operation of Cincinnati life and business depended primarily on horses. When the city’s horses were incapacitated, Cincinnati screeched into paralysis.

The strange episode began one evening in October when Dan Rice’s circus rolled into town. Four of the horses showed symptoms of some sort of respiratory illness and were taken to veterinarian George W. Bowler for treatment. Dr. Bowler readily identified the affliction as the “Canadian horse disease” that was then infesting the northern tier of states but doubted it would spread beyond his stable on Ninth Street.

Alas, Dr. Bowler’s optimism was unfounded and the next few days found cases throughout the downtown area. Journalists struggled to name the disease. “Epizooty” was a common label, but newspaper reports invoked “equine influenza” or “hippo-typhoid-laryngitis” or “epiglottic catarrh” or “epizootic influenza” and even “hipporhinorrheaeirthus”! Whatever they called it, the disease would hobble a city absolutely dependent on horse power to operate at all.

Josiah “Si” Keck, presiding at the Board of Aldermen, introduced a resolution to draft squads of men for duty at the city’s firehouses. With the horses out of commission, only manpower could replace horsepower to haul the heavy steam-powered fire engines of the day. Thankfully, only a few minor fires were reported during the height of the contagion.

According to the Cincinnati Enquirer [11 November 1872], other horse-dependent companies tried different alternatives:

“The United States Express Company has prepared to follow the example of the Eastern Companies. All of their horses, twenty-two in number, being completely disabled, they will at once substitute steers, and the streets of this city will show the curious spectacle of express wagons drawn by the propelling force of a farmer’s haycart.”

Historian Alvin F. Harlow, writing in the Bulletin of the Historical and Philosophical Society of Ohio [April 1951], noted that the bovine substitutes were simply not cut out for jobs readily accomplished by horses:

“The oxen, with great, wild, pathetic eyes, slobbering, swaying slowly through the streets, were a strange spectacle to city folk, and were followed by crowds of children for a day or two, until the novelty wore off. But as agencies of traction, they were a disappointment. Not all of them were well broken to the yoke; few men in town knew how to drive them, and as they are—with the possible exception of the tortoise and the two-toed sloth—the slowest walkers in the whole zoological category, they did not accomplish much in a day, according to city standards.”

Just think of an entire city operating on the capable talents of horses, now immobilized by an unseen microbe. Garbage piled up as the city’s sanitation wagons stood idle. “Garbage” back then meant kitchen and table scraps which, even in the chill of autumn, ripened malodorously in unattended cans. The situation was even worse at the city’s slaughterhouses. Even though the butchers had stopped working – there were no wagons available to deliver the slaughtered pork and beef – there were likewise no wagons to dispose of the offal and trimmings. The stench was indescribable.

Cincinnati’s streetcars were horsedrawn in 1872. It would be a decade before electrical trolleys debuted. The entire commuter system of the city shut down and the Cincinnati workforce, from C-suite executives to the lowliest laborers, had to hoof it. Harlow describes an exhausting scene:

“Towards dusk each evening the great trek homeward began, and from then until 9 P.M. the streets were thronged with business men, clerks, bookkeepers, warehouse and factory workers, trudging wearily. To reach their work again at 7 or 7:30 next morning, when most people's day began, soon proved too much for some of them, and they took to sleeping in their places of business; which in turn became less and less necessary, as those businesses were compelled to shut down for lack of transportation.”

Even funerals were affected. Teams of undertakers pulled hearses to the depot of the Cincinnati, Hamilton & Dayton railroad, whose tracks ran along the front of Spring Grove Cemetery. Mourners followed along on foot until the hearse was loaded on the train, then rode out for the burial. Other cemeteries put interments on hold for the duration.

The city faced the serious prospect of starvation. Food arrived in the city by rail and by river, but there were no carts to carry it from the wharf or the depot. Fresh vegetables rotted down by the river while families went hungry just a few blocks north. Farmers from the suburbs refused to bring their crops into Cincinnati for fear that their own draft animals would succumb to the dread epizooty.

As humans attempted to fill the horse’s role, every wheelbarrow in the city was drafted into use and some sold for astronomical sums. Even so, as noted by Harlow, human power had its very fragile limits:

“If the load was very heavy, as for instance, hogsheads of tobacco, massive machinery or an iron safe of a ton weight, ropes were also attached to each side of the wagon and passed over the shoulders of two files of straining men, while three or four others, their feet striving for toeholds in earth or cobbles, pushed against the wagon's tail until shoulder-bones threatened to wear through the flesh.”

Among the worst effects of the pandemic was the inability to dispose of dead horses. Horses died in Cincinnati at the rate of twenty or thirty a day at the height of the disease in November 1872, and there was nothing available to haul the carcasses out to the reduction plants, where they might be turned into soap fat or fertilizer. Alderman Si Keck, who owned one of these “stink factories,” found a partial solution by renting a small steam-powered truck from one of the city’s pork-packing plants but could still handle only a few of the equine corpses.

By the end of November, new cases and fatalities had diminished considerably. As December opened, the city was almost back to normal, with a new appreciation of the four-legged residents who truly powered our city.

Only one case of a human contracting the epizooty was recorded in 1872. Joseph Einstein was a well-known dealer when Cincinnati’s Fifth Street was the largest horse market in the United States. Einstein spent weeks, around the clock, nursing his stock and developed symptoms remarkably similar to those afflicting his horses. Several local doctors confirmed that he had somehow succumbed to the dread epizooty.

Just as mysteriously as it appeared, the epizooty vanished, and never visited Cincinnati to that degree ever again.

[gpuzzle]

re: Kowloon Manifesto (or a supreme procrastination rant)

I've been doing some reading on the Kowloon Manifesto concept from my boy @centrally-unplanned (shoutouts homie), and my personal take on it is that the thing with the Kowloon Walled City was that it never had any real services such as trash, and the planning was haphazard at best, but people still had plants, and if you were to do a Kowloon Walled City by design, what you would do would be to set up gardens in that area, and gardens that could ideally fulfill the roles of both landscaping/gardening so as to be aesthetically pleasing, and also as a food source, because this is actually all possible thanks to permaculture and agroforestry and all this entire field of study that's basically the domestication of an ecosystem, and managing plants native to the area (and the ones that aren't native that were introduced). The problem with those is and has always been that they have ridiculous yields (good!) but they are godawful to automate and don't scale into giant plots, which makes them both labor intensive and complex for industrial agriculture. Well, if you're setting up a thousand small gardens, you don't need to worry about that, and they help with landscaping and contact with nature, which has a bunch of benefits (notably, air quality!)

This is where you can push the entire thing even further into "high modernism bullshit" and just go down the route of "what if everything was Habitat 67" - because a) people won't just live in a concrete chaos, even in Kowloon they painted and built their own annexes and added their own personal touches, and b) the remarkable thing about Habitat 67 is that it fits, in about 120m by 300m - so 36000 m^2, or 0.036 km^2 worth of ground (and then shooting upwards), 146 residences. Assuming, say, that the averaged out population between families (or groups of roommates) of 3-5 and people who live by themselves or with a partner averages out to about 450 people living there, that's a population density of 12500 persons per square kilometer, on something only about 12 stories tall. This beats out Tokyo!

Habitat 67 was designed to specifically allow residents to still have a landscape garden no matter what. That was one of the primary design considerations, which means that if you push that landscape garden act into the full out food garden aspect, you can have something which starts veering into The Hanging Gardens.

I lived in Sao Paulo, a lot of it was 20 stories tall and higher, so you could just keep pushing that limit further and further, with interconnected gardens and small parks and all the services that come with not being Kowloon Walled City such as decent light and water and garbage collection, you could have something much, much denser - and frankly much more livable than the Midwestern hell that is Cincinnati.

[wideouts4life]

Wild Card Weekend

Each game this weekend outside of the Cowboys/Buccaners game went over the spread. You would think because we witnessed a lot of scoring that the point totals would trickle down to wideouts having monstrous days…and that was far from the case. We had 8 players go over 100 yards receiving for the day. Half were tight-ends and for now I haven’t talked about them on this blog even though next season I’m thinking about including them…I mean they do catch the ball too. 

In High School one of my favorite quotes was, “Big time players, make big time plays, in big time games.” DK Metcalf is a big time player. As the game was about to get out of hand, DK ran a go-route up the left sideline using a speed release to catch his first touchdown of the day for 50 yards. This cut the lead to 10-7. Despite losing 41-23 Metcalf had a great afternoon. He caught 10 passes for 136 yards and 2 TD’s. His second touchdown was during garbage time but it still counts because he can use this performance to build on during off season. It’s unusual for me to see a 49ers defense cautious when tackling wideouts but Metcalf sure had Lenoir and Ward making business decisions when trying to tackle the beastie wideout. 

Deebo last name Samuel looked so damn fast on his only touchdown of the day. Samuel plays a physical brand of football from the wideout position. His first touch was a toss where he plowed his way for a 15-yard gain. Deebo is the perfect proprietary blend of toughness, explosion, quickness and bedazzlement. His touchdown of 72 yards in which 66 of them were YAC (yards after catch). Mr Samuel got a great block from tight-end George Kittle, weaved slightly inside to set up the defender and turned the jets on smoking defenders on his way for 6 points. I like winners and not saying DK isn’t one but his team lost so Deebo Samuel is this weeks wideout of the week.  

Stefon Diggs and Gabe Davis finished Sunday’s game with damn near identical statistics. The “I’m Him” wideout caught 7 balls for 114 yards with zero touchdowns. Davis caught 6 passes for 113 yards and 1 touchdown. It was crazy to me that Miami got back in the game right before halftime after trailing 17-0. It’s almost safe to say that had Tua or Bridgewater played Miami may have won this game. I love the way these two competed against the up in your face defense by the Miami secondary. I expect another solid performance by the duo this coming weekend against a Cincinnati Bengals team who played in last season’s Super Bowl despite losing to the Rams. 

Our last wideout to go over 100 yards on Sunday was Isaiah Hodgins of the New York Giants. This is my first time hearing his name but after watching highlights I liked what I saw on his tape. Hodgins ran a beautiful bang post for a 12 yard touchdown. He caught 8 passes for 105 yards and 1 touchdown. In a perfect world, I hope Hodgins duplicates this performance by going out with the game of his life against the Philadelphia Eagles so the Dallas Cowboys could beat the Giants the following week and return to their first Super Bowl in 28 years. 

Wideouts Let’s Go, play fast, have fun and at the end of the day just catch it! 

[cedar-glade]

How do you feel about Cincinnati? I’m thinking about moving there for a research gig at UC but I don’t have much of a feel for the place. I’m from Appalachia and I’m sure I’d miss the mountains, but I’m guessing it’s at least more socially liberal?

Ok so, you're going to miss the mountains, I will warn you.

Cincinnati does have it's charm and you will probably like it after a while but it takes a year of getting used to the layout. As for natural areas we have hidden treasures; but, Its an old city, so it's infested with honeysuckle and has some cruddy city planning problems and a political climate that is split down the middle.

Socially liberal in the city for sure, not bad socially, like good stuff from younger crowds and some older; however, in certain sections of town, there is also patriot rock country conservatives surrounding the city. Northside is pretty nice, no one really follows a strict political compass since both liberal and conservative policies tend to drop the ball a lot on many issues and the people in the town are pissed and know that both sides are essentially garbage at their political high point(planning and politicians) . Basically the socially liberal view points are often taken as a stance by what is claimed as "socially liberal" planners and politicians but is twisted to manipulate capital gains and ends up being a gentrification tank. or it turns into talk and not really progressive movement or correcting bad habits but the politicians and planners will say they are; like there is no modelling involved where complexity is viewed as interactions and therefor if it is a liberal policy it has many plot holes that leave many groups of people still trampled or the policy brought up that is decent are shot down often due to the complexity they wont address and money being funneled somewhere else. The exact same thing happens on the conservative end but it's often not getting green washed nor becoming a "neighborhood improvement project" it's usually just going into politician pockets, gentrification (but they will say it because they think gentrification is good so its never masked or misconstrued) , hoa projects, or developement and highway renovation. If you do move to cincinnati, i can show you some dope stuff in the area. Its better than the other major ohio cities and you can always drive to adams co (1 hr 20 min drive) or drive to rrg( 3hr) to see unique stuff and undisturbed habitats that are often more complex than appalachian habitats. We don't have blue ridge balds or black mountains or dolly sods or high altitude mountain bogs or joyce kilmer but is a pretty diverse state if your willing to drive or make friends who want to drive.

UC is more progressive than Miami or UofD. OSU is a sports college and medical college. Case western is dope. The most progressive large College is definitely OU though, then UC.

[racingtoaredlight]

Opening Bell: April 19th, 2024

Recently retired Philadelphia Eagle Jason Kelce claims to have lost his Super Bowl ring in a kiddie pool filled with chili. This happened in Cincinnati, which means the chili was likely of the Skyline variety, which, in my opinion, takes this story from "amusing" to "nightmarish."

RTARL Canadian Bureau Chief TonyToniToneHasDoneItAgain alerted me to Tim Horton's inexplicable decision to begin offering pizza on their menu.

While we're talking about Canada (sorta), many people don't know that one of the main differences between their form of government and ours here in the US is simply the amount of gravy involved.

I've long thought Netflix true-crime documentaries were garbage, but using AI to fabricate photos of a subject is WAY out of bounds.

Three cheers to this lady for fulfilling her destiny.

Finally, I thought this look at the fleet of maniacs responsible for keeping undersea internet cables up and running was incredible.

[draciformes]

Love whenever Cincinnati chili comes up with people that didn't grow up in Ohio and they're like this sucks. And it's like your right it's fucking garbage it's shit it looks the same going in and out. It's meat soup. It sucks ass just like my home state 😋😋😍😍😍 and I want to be embalmed in it