#dynamo joe

[evilhorse]

First Notes column (circa October 1985)

[piepress]

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[pybun]

Abrams but he's built like his voice actor

the voice actor in question

[cryptocollectibles]

X-Men vs The Avengers #1 (April 1987) by Marvel Comics

Written by Roger Stern, drawn by Marc Silvestri and Joe Rubinstein.

[grandgartsbyofficial]

Comms out here with every single players wikipedia open

[dalekofchaos]

MCU Recast

Just for fun, I will be recasting the MCU

Notice. Because of the 30 picture limit, will not be able to do them all the pics for the fancasts.

Timothy Olyphant as Iron Man/Tony Stark

Glenn Powell as Captain America

Alexander Skarsgard as Thor Odinson

Hugh Dancy as The Hulk/Bruce Banner

Yuliya Snigir as Black Widow/Natasha Romanoff

Jensen Ackles as Hawkeye/Clint Barton

Idris Elba as Nick Fury(if Ultimate)

Jeffrey Dean Morgan as Nick Fury(if 616)

Morena Baccarin as Maria Hill

Ewan McGregor as Ant-Man/Hank Pym

Mary Elizabeth Winstead as Wasp/Janet Van Dyne

Hiba Abouk as Scarlet Witch/Wanda Maximoff

Jesus Castro as Quicksilver/Pietro Maximoff

Ryan Gosling as Star Lord/Peter Quill

Sofia Boutella as Gamora

Simon Pegg as Rocket Racoon

John Rhys-Davies as Groot

Jason Momoa as Drax the Destroyer

Maggie Q as Mantis

Ana de Armas as Nebula

Christian Bale as Doctor Strange/Stephen Strange

Katee Sackhoff as Captain Marvel/Carol Danvers

Joe Keery as Spider-Man/Peter Parker

Chiwetel Ejiofor as Black Panther/T'Challa

Ben Barnes as Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes

Robert Pattinson as Daredevil

Alexandra Daddario as Jessica Jones

Trevante Rhodes as Luke Cage

Lewis Tan as Iron Fist/Danny Rand

Frank Grillo as The Punisher/Frank Castle

Jamie Chung as Colleen Wing

Sonequa Martin-Green as Misty Knight

Jesse Plemons as Foggy Nelson

Amanda Seyfried as Karen Page

Yaya DaCosta as Claire Temple

Dakota Fanning as Trish Walker/Hellcat

Stephan James as Malcolm Ducasse

Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa as Stick

Rainn Wilson as Microchip/David Liberman

Jamie Foxx as War Machine/James "Rhodey" Rhodes

Michael B. Jordan as Sam Wilson

Amy Adams as Pepper Potts

Kevin James as Harold “Happy” Hogan

Christina Ricci as Betty Ross

Léa Seydoux as Sharon Carter

Daisy Ridley as Peggy Carter

Charlie Day as Ant-Man/Scott Lang

Amandla Stenberg as Shuri

Maya Hawke as Hawkeye/Kate Bishop

Sasha Luss as Black Widow/Yelena Belova

(I'm changing the direction of the MCU Spider-Man since there would be no mind wipe at the end of said trilogy, no Iron Man Jr, Peter is in college and already an established hero, there would be no pointless change to MJ's name and I would reframe from basically copying everything about Miles and give all his traits to Peter)

Brendan Fraser as Uncle Ben Parker(flashbacks)

Jamie Lee Curtis as May Parker

Stefanie Scott as Mary Jane Watson

Dylan O'Brien as Harry Osborn

Chloë Grace Moretz as Gwen Stacy

Jake Austin Walker as Flash Thompson

Keira Knightley as Jane Foster

Stellan Skarsgård as Odin

Mark Strong as Charles Xavier

Jacob Elordi as Cyclops/Scott Summers

Liana Liberato as Jean Grey

Matt Berry as Hank McCoy/Beast

Finn Wolfhard as Iceman/Bobby Drake

Mason Dye as Angel/Archangel/Warren Worthington III

Kiki Layne as Storm/Ororo Monroe

Jared Keeso as Wolvine/James "Logan" Howlett

Wyatt Oleff as Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler

Charles Melton as Warpath/James Proudstar

Sadie Sink as Wolfsbane/Rahne Sinclair

Petr Skvortsov as Piotr Rasputin/Colossus

Maude Apatow as Kitty Pryde/Shadowcat

Victoria Pedretti as Rogue/Ann Marie

Peyton Elizabeth Lee as Jubilee/Jubilation Lee

Olivia Rodrigo as Dazzler/Alison Blaire

Ekaterina Samsonov as Magik/Illyana Rasputina

Sonya Mizuno as Psylocke/Elizabeth “Betsy” Braddock

Esme Creed-Miles as X-23/Laura Kinney

Wolfgang Novogratz as Havok/Scott Summers

Jodie Whittaker as Emma Frost

Dallas Liu as Daken

Kat Graham as Polaris/Lorna Dane

Chad Coleman as Lucas Bishop

Hunter Doohan as Banshee/Sean Cassidy

Austin Butler as Gambit/ Remy LeBeau

Will Arnett as Deadpool/Wade Wilson

Saara Chaudry as Kamala Khan

Madison Reyes as America Chavez

Isaac as Moon Knight/Marc Spector/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley

Andrew Lincoln as Reed Richards/Mr Fantastic

Jodie Comer as Sue Storm/Invisible Woman

Paul Mescal as Human Torch/Johnny Storm

Liev Schreiber as Thing/Ben Grimm

JK Simmons as Iron Monger/Obadiah Stane

Dolph Lundgren as Crimson Dynamo/Anton Vanko(adding Dynamo as I felt not including him was a waste)

Danila Kozlovsky as Whiplash

Bob Odenkirk as Justin Hammer

Chow Yun-Fat as The Mandarin(No Trevor, he's The Mandarin and actually uses the Ten Rings against Tony)

Michael Shannon as Abomination/Emil Blonsky

Mark Gatiss as The Leader/Samuel Sterns

Jamie Campbell Bower as Loki Laufeyson

Christoph Waltz as Red Skull/Johann Shmidt

Cillian Murphy as Baron Helmut Zemo

Javier Bardem as Thanos

Jeremy Irons as Ultron

Matt Smith as Malekith

Sean Bean as Alexander Pierce

Manu Bennett as Crossbones

Iain Glen as Ronan the Accuser

Oded Fehr as Baron Mordo

Brian Cox as Ego The Living Planet

John Malkovich as Vulture

John Goodman as Kingpin/Wilson Fisk

Boyd Holbrook as Bullseye

Tonia Sotiropoulou as Elektra Nachios

Jodie Comer as Typhoid Mary

James McAvoy as Purple Man/Zebediah Killgrave

Common as Cottonmouth/Cornell Stokes

Taraji P. Henson as Mariah Dillard

Barkhad Abdi as Bushmaster

Željko Ivanek as Agent Orange/William Rawlins

Wes Bentley as Jigsaw/Billy Russo

Dev Patel as Davos

Alexander Ludwig as Nuke/Will Simpson

Matthew Rhys as James Wesley

Kate Beckinsale as Vanessa Marianna

Marwan Kenzari as Bakuto

Brian Tee as Nobu Yoshioka

Lucille Soong as Madame Gao

Julianne Moore as Alexandra Reid

Eva Green as Hela

Yahya Abdul-Mateen II as Killmonger/Erik Stevens/N'Jadaka

Andrew Scott as Mysterio

(sidenote, Mysterio wouldn't die and would return to form the Sinister Six which would feature the villains from NWH, but it's the MCU variants, no Multiverse)

Bryan Cranston as Green Goblin/Norman Osborn

Mark Hamill as Doc Ock/Otto Octavius

Sam Worthington as Sandman

Sendhil Ramamurthy as The Lizard/Dr Curt Connors

Aaron Paul as Electro

Naomi Scott as Ghost

Henry Golding as Namor

Jason Isaacs as Magneto/Erik Lensherr

Natalie Dormer as Mystique/Raven Darkholme

Pablo Schreiber as Sabertooth/Victor Creed

King Kerim as Apocalypse/En Sabah Nur

Bryan Cranston as Sebastian Shaw

Christopher Eccleston as Bastion

Matt Smith as Mr Sinister

Nikolaj Coster-Waldau as Adam Warlock

Antony Starr as US Agent/John Walker

Ted Levine as Thaddeus Ross/Red Hulk

Charlie Clapman as Doctor Doom/Victor Von Doom

[kvetchlandia]

Joe Rosenthal Allen Ginsberg at Lawrence Ferlinghetti's "City Lights" Bookstore, North Beach, San Francisco 1959

I walked on the banks of the tincan banana dock and sat down under the huge shade of a Southern Pacific locomotive to look for the sunset over the box house hills and cry.

Jack Kerouac sat beside me on a busted rusty iron pole, companion, we thought the same thoughts of the soul, bleak and blue and sad-eyed, surrounded by the gnarled steel roots of trees of machinery.

The only water on the river mirrored the red sky, sun sank on top of final Frisco peaks, no fish in that stream, no hermit in those mounts, just ourselves rheumy-eyed and hung-over like old bums on the riverbank, tired and wily.

Look at the Sunflower, he said, there was a dead gray shadow against the sky, big as a man, sitting dry on top of a pile of ancient sawdust--

--I rushed up enchanted--it was my first sunflower, memories of Blake--my visions--Harlem

and Hells of the Eastern rivers, bridges clanking Joes greasy Sandwiches, dead baby carriages, black treadless tires forgotten and unretreaded, the poem of the riverbank, condoms & pots, steel knives, nothing stainless, only the dank muck and the razor-sharp artifacts passing into the past--

and the gray Sunflower poised against the sunset, crackly bleak and dusty with the smut and smog and smoke of olden locomotives in its eye--

corolla of bleary spikes pushed down and broken like a battered crown, seeds fallen out of its face, soon-to-be-toothless mouth of sunny air, sunrays obliterated on its hairy head like a dried wire spiderweb,

leaves stuck out like arms out of the stem, gestures from the sawdust root, broke pieces of plaster fallen out of the black twigs, a dead fly in its ear,

Unholy battered old thing you were, my sunflower O my soul, I loved you then!

The grime was no man's grime but death and human locomotives,

all that dress of dust, that veil of darkened railroad skin, that smog of cheek, that eyelid of black mis'ry, that sooty hand or phallus or protuberance of artificial worse-than-dirt--industrial--modern--all that civilization spotting your crazy golden crown--

and those blear thoughts of death and dusty loveless eyes and ends and withered roots below, in the home-pile of sand and sawdust, rubber dollar bills, skin of machinery, the guts and innards of the weeping coughing car, the empty lonely tincans with their rusty tongues alack, what more could I name, the smoked ashes of some cock cigar, the cunts of wheelbarrows and the milky breasts of cars, wornout asses out of chairs & sphincters of dynamos--all these

entangled in your mummied roots--and you standing before me in the sunset, all your glory in your form!

A perfect beauty of a sunflower! a perfect excellent lovely sunflower existence! a sweet natural eye to the new hip moon, woke up alive and excited grasping in the sunset shadow sunrise golden monthly breeze!

How many flies buzzed round you innocent of your grime, while you cursed the heavens of your railroad and your flower soul?

Poor dead flower? when did you forget you were a flower? when did you look at your skin and decide you were an impotent dirty old locomotive? the ghost of a locomotive? the specter and shade of a once powerful mad American locomotive?

You were never no locomotive, Sunflower, you were a sunflower!

And you Locomotive, you are a locomotive, forget me not!

So I grabbed up the skeleton thick sunflower and stuck it at my side like a scepter,

and deliver my sermon to my soul, and Jack's soul too, and anyone who'll listen,

--We're not our skin of grime, we're not our dread bleak dusty imageless locomotive, we're all golden sunflowers inside, blessed by our own seed & hairy naked accomplishment-bodies growing into mad black formal sunflowers in the sunset, spied on by our eyes under the shadow of the mad locomotive riverbank sunset Frisco hilly tincan evening sitdown vision.

-- Allen Ginsberg, "Sunflower Sutra" 1955

[emwritesstuff]

DYNAMO | Steve Rogers x Reader | part 3.

HYDRA has made their share of human experiments. You're just one of them. One of the least successful ones. One of the least functional ones. At least your life in the facility gave you a few things: unwavering resilience, cool(ish) superpowers and a great sense of humor. Steve Rogers would strongly disagree with that last one. A single chance encounter with him reluctantly brings you into the Avengers Compound, and you're determined to make his life as miserable as you can. Feeling's mutual.

AO3 | Masterlist | Playlist (coming soon!)

notes: this is for whoever was starved for Steve (you'll get the name of the chapter by the end). And the to lovers part of enemies to lovers begin... (warnings: mentions of human experimentation, violence, cursing, nosebleeds, sexual tension, a lil' bit of grinding) (5.2K words)

3: FRICTION SURGENCE

DAY 10

Bruce Banner is nice. The man carries himself like a ticking time bomb, ready to burst into green rage at any moment, but to you he’s just the nice doctor who runs your full body scans every Monday.

He even says sorry when he sticks you with the needles to measure your energy levels.

Your cheek is stuffed with a lollipop, that he started to keep in the lab when you jokingly asked for one. The sugar is almost enough to coat the frustration from the results you’ve been getting these past few days.

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.” He sighs, pulling the needles from your arms. They’re especially made, connected by wires to a big computer. “Well, nothing that we didn’t know.”

It’s been the same thing, over and over: energy levels normal. Electrical impulses normal. Few extra things on your DNA, however nothing too strange running on your bloodstream.

You’ve seen samples of Rogers and Bruce’s on a microscope, and next to them you were just a regular joe.

Except when you make the Compound’s lights flicker and the raging migraines, your brain works normal. Bruce says the heightened brain activity is what causes your head to pound and your nosebleeds, but he doesn’t know how to make it stop.

In fact, no one knows how to make it stop. Not even the HYDRA scientists who made you had that answer, even though no one lets you take a look at what they wrote, so you just have to believe their word. It’s great.

Banner keeps himself optimistic, though, and you want more than anything to deposit all your faith on him, but you’re not sure if you have any to spare.

You’re using your teeth to crack the last bits of the lollipop when broad shoulders block the view from the doorway. Steve Rogers looks godlike even in his workout attire; white shirt, navy slacks and the most stoic face on the universe.

You hate how he looks like that at 8 a.m. while you probably look like roadkill with fading blue hair.

He stands like a god and acts like one, all knowing, the very image of goodness in breathable microfiber and a straight spine.

You’re not religious.

“Training.” Is all he says when you raise your eyes at him, and you groan.

Training. The part of your pardon they left out in the Quinjet two weeks ago. Something about Fury wanting you ready, something about being a potential recruit-Avenger-sidekick thing.

They didn’t count that besides the times where you’ve accidentally zapped your opponents on the wrestling mat, you were basically useless. You didn’t have super strength or spy skills. All you had was a smart mouth and sheer indomitability. And that made Captain America livid.

He was strict and gave you a hard time, which you always retorted with verbal provocation. Which in turn made him even worse, although something in the flush of his ears made your muscles less sore and your stamina last a little more. All of that, combined with his hate for you and your HYDRA past and your hate for him and his military-like lifestyle, constantly fed the cat and mouse thing you two had going on.

“Fuckin’ hate training.”

“Come back for another check-up when you’re done.” Banner says when you hop off the medical bed. You mutter an okay to the very green back of his neck and scurry after Rogers, already taking his long strides ahead of you.

You’re glaring at him across the mat as places his shoes neatly to the side of it. “This is not a very fair fight, don’t you think?”

His eyes flicker to you, and he smirks. Asshole.

“Don’t let me catch you, then.”

Your mouth parts open, because this is the same training Nat does with him, except she’s like a Cirque du Soleil acrobat (Tony has multiple DVDs of that thing) and you are, as aforementioned, akin to roadkill.

Which means she suggested it, and Rogers so eager to kick your ass at literally and metaphorically any opportunity he has, embraced it.

Assholes.

You half-yelp-half-roar as he tackles you to the mat for the 5th time. “Fold.”

“No! Get off me!” He does as you say for once, and you both retake your positions on opposite sides of the mat.

You bend your back as he lurches forward, your Yoga sessions with Wanda showing results for the first time, but you’re so taken aback by your newfound flexibility Rogers has an opening to catch you again, this time like a sack of potatoes.

“That’s six. Fold.” You squirm in his grasp. You’d actually be having fun if it wasn’t him and his hellbent will on making you miserable.

He’s the worst of them. Sam teases you but in a friendly way; he was one of the first to welcome you in. Nat is hard on you but she’s so cool you don’t mind. Wanda is nicer than she should be; Bucky Barnes avoids you, but you’re thankful for that.

Tony is… Tony.

Rogers’ just the goddamn worst. Ground rules for this exercise: you make them touch the mat, you make a point. You obviously can’t tackle Captain America. 

“It’s not fair if I have no way to make points!” You deliver punches to his back that you know don’t do much but tickle.

“You would if you took your training seriously. Do you fold?”

“Eat shit, Rogers.”

 You can feel him craning his neck to look at you, and you twist your back to stare at him too. “Watch your mouth.”

“Fuck you.”

In a split second you are slammed back onto the mat, Rogers pinning you down as his eyes flame right in your face. You’re both panting, from exertion and anger. He hovers over you like a predator.

His eyes are blown wide. He licks his pink lips. He’s like Adonis. You hate him.

“Fuck off!” You snap out of it, punching and kicking and squirming, to no avail. He’s much larger and stronger.

Frustration threatens to spill through your eyes. Seven.

“Do. You. F-”

You hear a snicker coming from above you. “Damn, d’you guys need the room?”

Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson are standing by the sliding doors of the training room, although you don’t know how long they were there for. Captain America gets off of you in an instant, leaving you to catch your breath on the cushioned floor. “Nat’s training.”

You don’t have the energy to speak, just to stare at the line of sweat staining Rogers’ back. A smirk breaks your indignant pout, a little victory in making him work for his own.

Your eyes land on newcomers, shaking their heads with amused looks on their faces. It’s better not to think about how warm your cheeks feel.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt, just here to do some liftin’.” Barnes jests as you attempt to sit up. Not that he needed to lift. The man had a tree trunk of a body, rivaling Thor’s even though he’d never agree to it and Bucky was too modest to say so himself.

“And I’m looking for a run partner. Steve?”

Your star-spangled tormentor spares you a glance as he’s putting his running shoes back on. “You should report to—”

“In a minute, mom.”

Rogers and Wilson disappear through the glass doors, and you slump back into the mat. Banner would have to wait a little while longer.

DAY 37

Combat training. Stealth training. Cardio. Lab tests. More cardio.

Your schedule has been so full the last few weeks you’ve barely had time to register what you were doing. Being dragged from one thing to the other, day after day, and before you could think about it your body was toning up and you could keep up with the Avengers on their morning run.

Well, not the super soldiers. But still. Great progress.

Although you’d like to be anywhere but the Avengers compound, you had to compromise. The pardon was too good to pass up. Easy access to morphine was even better.

Now, Bruce knew enough that he could medicate you before the nosebleeds started, which was nice. The migraines still chastised you often, but that’s what the morphine’s for. Tony was close to forgiving you about the time you made the lights flicker and he lost his record streak on Pac Man.

There was one thing, you weren’t giving in to, though.

Steve motherfucking Rogers.

“I don’t want to be American. I’m fine with my original nationality.”

Discussion of the day: being an official American citizen. To Fury and him, it would make bureaucracy easier; to you, it didn’t matter. You weren’t going to be an Avenger.

“This will help prove your ties with HYDRA—” Nick Fury is intimidating, truly, and persuasive, but you’re dead set on not giving in to more things. Next up, they’ll be changing your name to McKayla McJohnson or something.

“Why does it matter? Wanda didn’t have to change anything.”

“You’re not Wanda. She’s been obliging from day one.” You glare at Steve Rogers, fists clenched on top of the oval table everyone’s gathered around.

“Listen up, Captain Senior Discount—”

“If you were the least bit cooperative—”

“I’m very much cooperative!”

Tony’s at his second expresso of the last twenty minutes “Oh my god, they’re like two high schoolers.”

“If there was such a thing as high-school in the stone age.”

“That’s enough—”

“Are you really sure Russian is your real nationality? HYDRA could’ve gotten you from anywhere.”

You blink. The words could’ve come from Rogers himself – this time, however, they come from Tony. Couldn’t put it past any of them, truly. But Captain America seems appalled; another surprise.

“Tony—”

He’s right – you’re not really sure. You’re also not sure why clinging to a place on your passport is so important to you. Maybe it’s because it’s something Steve wants, and therefore you sink your claws into it and refuse to let go.

 “I—I’m not. This is all I know.” You say quietly, and it’s Steve’s turn to be surprised.

You want to throw your water on his face. If pity is all the reason he’s got to be nice to you, you don’t want any of it.

Maybe you just don’t like all this existential questioning you’ve been doing lately. Where are you from? What can you do? Why did you do all of the things they asked you to? How were you made? Why were you made?

Why? Why? Why? Why?

“Could we come back to this another time? Training’s in five.” Rogers’ voice pulls you from your thoughts, and for the first time you’re thankful he’s so serious about fitness.

To his face, however, you roll your eyes. But follow him out to the gym anyways.

You almost have to run to keep up with his stride. His shoulders are tense, you can see it from behind him and imagine his expression. When the thought that you’ve should’ve given in and let them grant you citizenship comes up in your head, you shake it as if your ears are full of water.

“Where are we going?” You ask when he walks past the gym, but he doesn’t answer. “Rogers!”

“Outside. It’s sunny out.”

Before you can retort that it’s never stopped him from locking you up in that sweat-stinking-dungeon and that you’d actually love a pool day for once, you arrive at your real destination.

The Avengers Compound is situated right in the middle of a big grass field, with surrounding woods as extra measure of privacy. Anti-aircraft shields protect it from above, and you’re still wondering if they’ll give you a shock collar to keep you from running off.

Sam lands on the grass right in front the both of you. Full gear. “Hey kid.”

Redwing hovers over his right shoulder, and you almost panic. Is this your training, or you’re just the punching bag of the day? “Hey…”

Bruce and Natasha run up to the three of you, the green one with electrodes and a clipboard in his hands. “…what on Earth is going on?!” You shrill, and Natasha smirks at you.

Steve Rogers is not there when you turn. Natasha has her catsuit on. In the distance you spot Wanda and Vision.

This is it. Happy Death Day.

“Chill out. It’s just training. With a twist.” Nat says when Bruce approaches you with the electrodes, starting to glue them on your temples. When you attempt to protest, Bruce puts a hand on your shoulder. You instantly calm down, and it annoys you to no end.

“I’m using this to monitor your brain activity while you use your powers. It’s not as precise as the lab scans but it’ll do fine.”

“While I use my— during combat training?”

You’ve been practicing alone for Bruce’s research. Inside a Blindex aquarium few things could escape of. A safe, controlled environment, miles away from throwing punches with everyone on a patch of grass.

“That’s the twist.” You realize why Rogers had vanished, a fully clad Captain America coming to stand in front of you.

“That’s why the full gear too.” Nat quips, and you look down at your attire. Leggings and a souvenir T-shirt of the Avengers Tower Tour 2015.

Seems a little unbalanced. Especially when Vibranium is covering their bodies one way or another.

“Are we ready?” Wanda approaches with Vision as Bruce is gluing the last of the electrodes, right in the middle of your forehead.

At least she was in civilian attire, but you’ve seen what she can do.

“Not particularly.” You stare cross eyed at Bruce’s ministrations around your head, and Rogers comes to stand by the two of you.

“And miss the chance to kick my ass for once?”

You scoff. “It’s what gets me up in the morning, Cap.”

The chance of payback makes you almost giddy with excitement. And yet. You couldn’t control your powers for very long, and as much as that’s what training was for, no one had seen how bad things could really get.

What if you lost control? What if someone got hurt?

You know you shouldn’t care. They’re not your friends. You should probably want someone to get hurt, and you hate that you don’t.

Still, you know that keeping yourself unchecked and untrained would lead to it anyways.

So you resign. And training with a twist starts.

To keep you from causing a power outage in the whole Compound a generator was installed so you could steal energy from. Luckily for you, they take turns, each one having a go at kicking your ass independently.

It almost makes you look like you’re standing on equal footing.

You finish Sam quickly the first time, making his wings go haywire with a couple of blasts. He’s too heavy with all the gear to go head-to-head. You can hear Bucky’s booming laughter when your way of dealing with redwing is swatting it like an oversized beetle.

Natasha’s movements are so quick you barely see her approach you, and you don’t have time to refuel at the generator because she lands a kick to your chest that drops you to the grass like a sack of potatoes.

Vision is almost too easy. He’s barely organic, and when you immobilize him with a continuous stream of electricity you wonder if you can refill from him.

You can almost feel the hand of Baron von Strucker on shoulder. His breath on your ear.

You drop Vision at the same time your knees hit the floor. Suddenly you’re gasping for air. “Sorry,” You whisper to him, and he gives you a thumbs up.

“All seems to be functioning. Don’t worry for me.”

Bruce approaches you with a holographic tablet showcasing your brain. “You’re spiking. How do you feel?”

Everything is spinning, but you don’t tell him that. It’s not because of training.

Very good indeed, Asset.

The memory makes you shudder. “I could use a minute.” Banner nods, and a water bottle is placed on your hand at the same time Rogers kneels down to look at you.

The pity again. To hell with him.

“Think you can keep going?”

You take a long swig of water, and it does indeed help with clearing your head. Strucker feels more distant now.

“Why? Scared, Rogers?”

“’Cause your nose is bleeding, smartass.” He puts something on your other hand. A handkerchief. “Clean up. I’m next.”

Legs are still wobbly when you go up to the generator. Your hands itch as you feel the electricity traveling up your arms, making your hairs stand on end. You’re eager, though. Almost inspired.

Captain America is already waiting for you, shield in hand. He blocks your first blast with it, and the second. He knows your moves. He’s not gonna give up his only defense.

You need to get closer to snuck a hit in, so you both prowl each other like two lions fighting for territory. Your time is running out, and soon enough you’ll need the generator again.

Rogers pounces at the same time you do, using his shield as leverage to gain some high ground. You’re looking up at him as you see his face light up blue, matching his eyes.

A strong discharge flies out from your hands, too close to be blocked by the shield. His eyes roll backwards and you grit your teeth. Your every pore burns.

You don’t have mercy on him. He can take it.

If you can take all of this shit, he can take a little lightning.

You fall to the floor when it becomes too much, Rogers stumbling backwards but no more than that. He knows what to expect now. You follow with your eyes as he drops the shield on the grass.

When you look back up at him, he looks almost amused. “Again.” You demand, and he shakes his head.

“Wanda’s turn.”

Fuck.

There’s no doubt in your mind that Wanda is the most powerful of you all. You knew of her and her brother even before leaving HYDRA. The difference between her and you is that she is nice. And likeable, annoyingly so. You can’t just dislike Wanda Maximoff.

And also – she had mastered her powers a long time ago.

She’s waiting when you get up, brushing the grass blades off your leggings. The only one besides yourself not wearing her combat gear.

She doesn’t need it.

Spurts of red surround her like smoke, sparkling under the sun. You summon your power from your palms, groaning when it hurts but only sparks pathetically around your fingers.

You know she’s holding back so you two can start at the same place, and you’re not trying to embarrass yourself in front of all these people, there’s enough of it by just your own existence.

So you focus. Draw a sharp breath as Strucker’s distance narrows inside your damaged brain. Your hands nearly meet at the center of your chest, a movement you rarely ever do because usually splayed palms are enough.

Something sparks. Something blue, and you feel it again.

You can hear shouting around you, but all you can see is red.

You’re sure Wanda only sees blue.

The blasts come from all four of your hands, intertwining in a show of lighting and potential destruction only experiments like you and her can manage; you hear your name but for a second, you’re sure you can break her defenses, so you ignore it.

You ignore the black spots, the metallic taste on your tongue, the migraine.

“Stop!”

Wanda is having too much with this, just like you are. You have no qualms against her, which makes it fun because the intention to hurt isn’t there. She smiles brightly at you, and you finally feel the balance. Equals.

“Wanda! She is spiking too much! You need to stop!”

Wanda notices before you do. You frown at her when she frowns at you, but you don’t have time to dwell on it. Consciousness slips and pulls you under.

All you hear is your name being shouted when red and blue give way to black.

You’re sprawled on your bed like a starfish when you hear the door to your room sliding open.

“Brought you some Tylenol,” Wanda announces softly, and you know it’s being deposited on your bedside table along with a glass of water.

Angel Wanda. If it was anyone else you’d make them leave, but you like her.

“Thank you.”

You woke up the first time in the med bay, with so many wires attached to you that you had a panic attack and blacked out again. You woke up back again here. Like magic.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better. It’s just the headache.” You could still feel your nerves fried from training, but that should pass soon.

The bed dips when she sits near your feet. You crack open one of your eyes and she’s got a guilty smile on her face. “I’m sorry…I think we pushed you too far today.”

You shake your head, and it feels like all the corks and parts inside of you rattle loose when you do. “This is normal,” You gesture to yourself. “That’s what training is for.”

It sounds believable when it comes out of your lips. Truthfully, you’d rather be doing none of this, but you’ll have an expiration date if you don’t.

Sometimes you wonder if you’ll ever get better, or if all this effort is fruitless and all that’s left for you is explode like an atomic bomb and take everyone out with you.

For now, things seemed…okay. At least you were allowed the comfort of your own bed, after Banner deemed you well enough to leave his sight and someone very kindly carried you upstairs.

You hoped it was anyone but Steve Rogers. You didn’t need any further humiliation.

But you remember seeing him there. And you remember him holding you down as you wailed in terror and made the machines flicker, zapping anyone and anything that came near you.

You decide not to ask Wanda about it. Ignorance is bliss.

“Is Vision okay?”

“Perfectly well, miss Sparky.”

You open both of your eyes this time, raising your head to stare at Vision by your doorframe. Ouch.

“Sparky?!”

Wanda grimaces. “Courtesy of Stark. Get used to it, I think it might stick.” She giggles when you groan. “Welcome to the team.”

DAY 49

Natasha manages to coerce you into dyeing your hair after dinner.

She has a whole collection – this time, she’s going blonde. You eyed the pink with interested, but you’re still undecided. Right now, you’re just stripping the blue out of your hair.

The moment feels like a fever dream – Sex and The City playing on her TV while the two of you have a spa day – but you’ve gotten used to weird shit happening on the daily during your short time at the Compound.

Yet someone like Natasha Romanoff going for home haircare rubs you some type of weird.

“Can’t you just go to a fancy salon for this? You know, one with the champagne and the robes.”

She’s meticulously foiling her hair strands on her mirror when she turns to you, a small smile on her lips. “Then everyone will know about the new look.” She smirks. “Old habits die hard. I’m sure you know how it is.”

You’re scratching the skin with your numbers when she says it, and you suddenly feel silly. “Yeah. I get it.”

“Did you decide on a color yet?” She says, expertly deflecting the conversation to something more comfortable. Neutral. Impersonal.

You aren’t sure what makes you say it – morbid curiosity or something else that is shyly blooming inside of you – but you do it anyways.

“What was it like? The Widow Program.”

It takes her a beat to answer.

“I suppose the Red Room wasn’t much different than your upbringing. Tests, rigorous training, brainwashing. Making us the most lethal and obedient tools we could be.”

You meet her eyes in the mirror. She’s almost done with the foils, and you both look insane. But in this moment, there’s understanding.

These people are more like you than you could have imagined. Or even, you’re more like them.

It almost makes you hopeful.

“Mine was called the Brutkasten.”

“The Incubator.” You nod. “There were others like you there?”

“You didn’t get that from my files, Romanoff?”

Natasha grins, turning to you. You raise your eyebrows at her, arms crossed against your chest.

“Nat– and I did. I know you’re the sole survivor of your project as of today. But the files weren’t complete. A lot of blacked out information and missing pages to the reports.”

That surprises you. There’s still answers to be found, somewhere.

“The others all died pretty soon. It’s always been just me since forever.” You still remember some faces.  

The soon-to-be blonde nods. “Let me be honest with you. HYDRA’s in its last leg. But these rats are incredibly hard to find, and if we don’t cut all the heads…”

“More are going to show up. It’s why I’m here, right?” You sigh when she lets you continue. “Listen, Nat… Incubator held more projects than Powerhouse, but they didn’t exactly let us mingle. I’m not this groundbreaking insider you guys want me to be.”

“Think you could point us to a few possible locations, at least? Somewhere we can find those missing reports?”

You smile at her. If anyone can break into the Brutkasten, it’s the Avengers. They get what they want – not that you wouldn’t love to crush more of the HYDRA roaches yourself – and you can try getting the rest of your files.

And then you get better. And you get to live.

“So, which one are you going for?” Nat says, showing you one box of pink and one of cherry red dye.

You scan your eyes between the two boxes. Finally, you pick a third. The closest to your natural hair color. “This one.”

DAY 50

You can almost swear Rogers gets taken aback by your new look. Or maybe it was the just the proper workout attire, an apology gift from Nat who had “accidentally” shrunk your trusty World Tour t-shirt in the dryer.

She doesn’t do laundry.

Steve’s raised eyebrows only last for a few seconds, but you don’t miss it. And then you’re distracted by the grey sweatpants he’s wearing.

One second, max.

“Shall we?”

Just like that, another day starts. You skipped breakfast – being thrown around by Steve Rogers didn’t make the food sit right in your stomach, and besides, you enjoy the extra half hour in bed it provides you.

He’s blocking while you test out the mixed martial arts moves Nat showed you the other day, but not even that works to wind him up.

“Nat said you have intel on a new HYDRA base,” He says, landing a hit on your side. It makes you cough.

“’S not new. Well, to you, sure,” You smirk when he huffs. You use your foot to kick his upper thigh.

“There’s a briefing this afternoon.” Punch. Block.  “Care to share it then?”

You make doe eyes at him, cocking your head to the side. “Why, am I supposed to?”

It seems obvious to you. Of course you’re telling them the location of the base – you have as much interest in what’s in it as they do.

Rogers should know that. So why does he still insist on ordering you around?

Guy has a power kink.

Then you attack, and a badly calculated roundhouse lands you on the mat, Rogers holding your leg up. Furious. Just how you like him. “Do you take anything seriously?”

“Life’s too short.” You grin, and use your free leg to throw his balance off.

The fight resumes, you both this time rolling like animals on the floor. You feel sweat dripping down your temples, and it makes you even more annoyed that he, despite it all, still looks glorious.

He’s too much of everything. Too handsome, too charismatic, too put-together, too serious. Too perfect.

The exact opposite of you.

In your rage, you don’t even notice you’re almost putting up with his pace now. That you’ve been at this for close to an hour, non-stop, when before you needed a break every 5 minutes.

Because you’d waste no opportunity of landing any sort of hit on him, you’re still going strong. On punches and snarls and insults.

He still manages to pin you down, showcasing his much superior strength even though you keep yourself attached to him with your legs locked tight around his abdomen, putting all your might in reversing your positions.

“Let go.” You hiss.

“No.”

You’re tired of these unbalanced fights. Sick of it. “This fight isn’t fair! You’re too—”

“I know.”

You look up at him, perplexed when you realize it.

He’s not trying to train you. He’s trying to break you. Life’s not a fair fight or whatever.

You’re even more perplexed when you finally notice the position you’re in. Hips locked, faces flushed. A single bead of sweat runs down his forehead. Heat pools on cheeks and your lower belly.

Fuck him. Fuck him fuck him fuck him.  “I hate you.”

“I know.”

You can make up the different blues of his irises from here. Some grey in it. Not so picture perfect, after all.

“Good.” You relax enough that he loosens his grip a bit. Neither of you move though – something you don’t want to put a name to clouds your better judgement. He stares at your lips when you lick them.

You’re so close you can feel his ragged breaths on your face.

Stark’s voice on the speakers breaks the trance. This is a one-time call for pancakes.

You’re almost disappointed.

And in a last-ditch effort, you turn your bodies so Rogers is pressed against the mat instead. Better end it while you’re still on top of it. “I’d like some breakfast.”

“You look frustrated.”

Steve looks up from his coffee with a scowl. That’s the understatement of the year, and it’s all her doing – since her arrival, frustration is all he knows. Bucky knows it better than anyone, being the recipient of Steve’s venting every time Sparky and his best friend interact.

Most of it can’t be fixed with a cold shower.

“I’m fine.”

“You positive?”

“I’m positive, Buck.”

Bucky shrugs, giving Steve an affectionate slap on his shoulder. “She’ll fit in well,” He remarks. Already is.

They’re watching the others from the couch; Vision with a suspicious hand on Wanda’s lower back, Sparky – a very fitting nickname for her – threatening Tony with a fork.

“She’s difficult.”

“Can you blame her?”

Steve sighs. “Of course not. But it would be so much easier for everybody—”

“Everybody who? You? I think you like the challenge.”

Bucky grins when all Steve does is sip on his coffee.

“Maybe you should stop trying to fix her yourself and let her find her own way.”

“Maybe she should be grateful she isn’t rotting in the Raft. It’s like she doesn’t even want to be on our side.” He holds the empty mug like it’s his shield.

He still hasn’t figured her out. It’s been driving him insane. One day she is soft spoken and fragile; clinging to his shirt as panic takes over in the med bay, breaths easing as he coos in her ear. The other she is wild and foul-mouthed, grinding on him like—

“I don’t think she’s sure this is the good side yet. Why don’t you show her yours?”

“Buck—”

[kemetic-dreams]

Go-go is a subgenre of funk music with an emphasis on specific rhythmic patterns, and live audience call and response.

Go-go was originated by African-American musicians in Washington, D.C., during the mid-60s to late-70s. Go-go has limited popularity in other areas, but maintains a devoted audience in the Washington metropolitan area as a uniquely regional music style and was named the official music of Washington, D.C., in February 2020.

Performers associated with the development of the style include Rare Essence, EU, Trouble Funk, and singer-guitarist Chuck Brown. Modern artists like Charles "Shorty Corleone" Garris continue the go-go tradition in D.C.

Origins

Although Chuck Brown is known as "the Godfather of Go-Go", go-go is a musical movement that cannot be traced back to one single person, as there were so many bands that flourished during the beginning of this era that they collectively created the sound that is recognized as go-go of today. Artists such as Marvin Gaye, Van McCoy, Billy Stewart, Peaches & Herb, Black Heat,Experience Unlimited (E.U.), Vernon Burch, Sir Joe Quarterman & the Free Soul, the Moments, Ray, Goodman & Brown, True Reflection, the Unifics, Terry Huff & Special Delivery, Act 1, the Dynamic Superiors, Skip Mahoney & the Casuals, the Choice Four, and the Fuzz that played soul music during pre-go-go era.

The term "gogo" (as it applies to a music venue) originated in France in the early 1960s, at the Whiskyagogo nightclub, named after the French title for the British comedy "Whisky Galore!".The club also featured go-go dancers. In January 1964, capitalizing on the emerging popularity of "go-go dancers", the name was licensed to a Los Angeles club, the Whisky a Go Go, and from there the term "go-go" spread nationwideThe Cafe Au Go Go in NYC was also in business during that time, gaining notoriety when Lenny Bruce was arrested there in April 1964. By 1965, "go-go" was a recognized word for a music club, as evidenced by the TV show Hollywood A Go-Go (march 1965-1966), or the song title of that year's hit Going to a Go-Go by Smokey Robinson & the Miracles (released November 1965). At a go-go club, dancers could expect to hear the latest top 40 hits, performed by local bands and DJ's. (The French Whiskyagogo had been one of the first venues in the world to replace live music with records selected by a disc jockey.)

In Washington D.C., minor group Wornell Jones and the Young Senators were formed in 1965, beginning a fierce competition with Chuck Brown and Black Heat on the local club circuit. The Young Senators later became known for their song "Jungle" released in 1970 by Innovation Records. Guitarist and bandleader Chuck Brown is widely regarded as "the Godfather of Go-Go".

Chuck Brown was a fixture on Washington and Maryland music scene with his band Los Lotinos as far back as 1966. By the mid-1970s, he had changed the group's name to The Soul Searchers, and developed a laid-back, rhythm-heavy style of funk performed with one song blending into the next (in order to keep people on the dance floor). The beat was based on Grover Washington Jr.'s song "Mr. Magic," though Brown has said in interviews that both he and Washington had adapted the beat from a gospel music beat found in African churches.

Washington, D.C., funk's early national chart action came when Black Heat (the first D.C. go-go band to be signed by a major record label) released their Billboard top 100 hit "No Time To Burn" from their second album on Atlantic Records in 1974. They then toured with such national acts as Earth Wind & Fire, Parliament Funkadelic, Ohio Players, The Commodores, and others. In 1976, James Funk, a young DJ who spun at clubs in between Soul Searchers sets, was inspired (and encouraged by Brown himself) to start a band—called Rare Essence (originally the Young Dynamos)—that played the same kind of music.

[the-blossica-fan]

Greetings!

Thinking about getaway cars from @definesanity.

Excluding Tooth Fairy, who Foundation side are the getaway drivers?

(Excluding Tooth Fairy because... Tooth Fairy)

Sonetto probably by Foundation mandated driver (idk on what legal grounds for them to drive, for the UK you can learn to drive at 16) but who else would be the one to grab the wheel?

A fun headcanon Ive had is that Vertin as a brit has road rage, like quiet swearing and repetitive beeping at slow drivers type road rage.

Regulus probably could drive a car, alr she can drive a boat and a motorbike. Probably best bet as the getaway driver as she alr knows how evade the police.

Lilya probably could drive, but ofc defaults to Red-38

I don't think either Druvis or Sotheby can drive, probably are used to being driven around and such.

Matilda probably eventually learns to drive, probably from Joe. But in terms of a getaway driver probably would default to Joe driving.

Mercuria as from her trailer deffo doesnt drive.

Mesmer is never getting behind the wheel (god what a situation would be where Vertin and Mesmer have to drive a car, and safe to say Mesmer is never stepping into a car if Vertin is driving.)

More headcanons for others:

Greta tried teaching Marcus, but after near misses and crashes, having an arcane skill that makes it easy to slip into indecisiveness is probably not a good bet for driving. Greta Hoffman as a getaway driver I completely see.

Lucy can be the car (car puns galore), but with dynamo your probably better off running than taking a seat in that car.

I would 100% believe Vila could probably be a getaway driver, trust the vision.

Anyone else as a bad or good getaway driver is up to you!

Tooth Fairy is very useful actually, she's the demolition driver, she runs over anything that's been troubling them at the cost of a car and a public monument/silly

Hello comrade!!

Blonney after getting a license is one of the best getaway drivers. Not only can se spawn a car but she's good at driving desperately across the streets. She probably got a couple lessons from Tooth Fairy and in the most desperate of situations, she may or may not have ran over a couple critters, but she's the best bet for a driver.

Horropedia and Jessica suck and neither should be left behind the wheel unless you want a broken car and a fire. Horropedia may be decent, but getaway driver? Imagine playing a race game and knocking over everything.

I can see Bkornblume as a good getaway driver alongside Melania. They're both good at knowing where every little escape route is open because they planned it in advance and both can steal a car with no problem.

Enigma as a getaway driver...? No. Boy sucks, Greta is amazing because she's been outside and has been in multiple situations, dude probably can't turn on a car in practice but in theory he knows all the streets.

Simone is okay. She's not bad, not good either, she might panic a little when it comes to streets but she's good at driving. Pair her with Lucy and you get an amazing getaway driver.

"Do you want me to wear the Thomas the tank engine mask during my vehicles form?"

"Please don't."

Kakania, mmmmm I can see her as a good getaway driver. She knows the streets if she spends enough time in them and with lessons since she never drove a car before. She might be like, a choice, but not your first choice.

Never put Isolde behind a wheel. Aside from the silliness of it, it's really dangerous. Were she to get triggered, possessed or have a seizure, no one would be able to stop the car and a very dangerous accident could happen. For everyone's, especially hers, safety, she isn't allowed to drive.

I trust you with Vila but Windsong is too anxious and cries if she has to drive wayyyy too quickly for a getaway.

Satsuki as a getaway driver might sound funny, but listen to me. She was in prison for stealing, she knows her stuff and while she will not do it again, the memories are there.

Pavia 10/10 getaway driver if only he wasn't trying to shoot while driving, dude this isn't fast & furious.

Regulus and Kanjira as messy last choice getaway drivers because they're chaotic but can get you there safely... And dizzy and traumatized. But hey! The police aren't nearby!

[lboogie1906]

Aaron Pryor known as “The Hawk” (October 20, 1955 - October 9, 2016) was born in Cincinnati. He was a welterweight boxer. Professional record: 39-1, (35 knockouts). He was inducted into the IBHOF in 1996.

He relentless dynamo who blended a high degree of skill, laser-like speed, reckless courage, and blazing combination punching into a virtually unbeatable package. He won a silver medal at the 1975 Pan American Games and topped a remarkable 204-16 amateur career by beating Thomas Hearns to capture the 1976 National Golden Gloves. He turned pro in November ’76 with a second-round KO of Larry Smith. He won the WBA 140-pound title on Aug. 2, 1980, knocking out future Hall of Famer Antonio Cervantes in the fourth round. Tallied five successful defenses (all via KO) before his famous first fight with Alexis Arguello on Nov. 12, 1982. It was a tremendous give-and-take battle but Arguello was knocked out in the 14th round. A third-round TKO of Sang Hyun Kim in defense of the WBA belt in April 1983 preceded the much-anticipated rematch with Arguello that September, in which he KO’d Arguello in the 10th round. Retired after a close 15-round decision over Gary Hinton on March 3, 1985, his only defense of the IBF title. He returned to action in August ’87, losing for the first and only time as a pro when Bobby Joe Young stopped him in seven rounds. Three more minor bouts followed, but cocaine addiction and eye injuries had badly depleted him. Permanent retirement followed a December 1990 KO of Roger Choate. He kicked his cocaine habit and became an ordained deacon of the New Faith Baptist Church. He spent his time training boxers and lecturing kids on the evils of drug abuse. His son, Aaron Pryor Jr. is a professional fighter. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

[evilhorse]

Back Issue magazine #149

[piepress]

COOL VIDEO ABOUT DYNAMO JOE, ONE OF THE STARS OF LEGENDS OF INDIE COMICS: WORDS ONLY! Check it out here:

[blowflyfag]

the Wrestler: Volume 26, 2009

LEGENDS TITLE FIASCO

It’s Not Too Late For TNA To Do It Right

As Booker T opened his mysterious briefcase on October 8, the Impact Zone crowd was shocked to find out he was unveiling a brand new title, the Legends championship. Booker proclaimed himself the champion, but what does the belt really represent, and what does it mean for the future of TNA?

BY GERRY STRAUSS

FOR SIX YEARS, Total Nonstop Action has cultivated a dirty little secret: It has a split personality.

On one hand, the company that introduced many of us to the likes of A.J. Styles, Samoa Joe, Jay Lethal, and other new-generation dynamos has gone out of its way to promote the youth of the sport. Using the no-restrictions X division as the ultimate showcase for these amazing athletes, fans have enjoyed the chance to watch future superstars build their legacies, one match at a time. 

On the other hand, name value sells, and TNA knows it. So, along with the upstarts, TNA has also made a point of bringing in established veterans. Big-name superstars like Larry Zbyszko, Bob Backlund, and Roddy Piper have graced six-sided ring with their presence, and still-active stars like Sting and Kevin Nash add multi-generational appeal to the active roster. 

But when passionate, hardworking young stars-in-the-making are forced to share the spotlight with demanding, proven veterans, tension is inevitable. But, instead of taking steps to settle this increasingly prevalent issue, TNA made it the focal point of Impact, and created the Legends championship.

Introduced on Impact by Booker T, the Legends title signifies… well, we aren't exactly sure. There was no tournament (or even a match) to crown a champion. Instead, it merely appeared, signifying Booker’s self-proclaimed status as a legend worthy of favor over his younger counterparts.

Certainly, the precedence of creating a new championship out of thin air is there. When Ted DiBiase failed to win the WWF World championship in the ‘80’s, he created his Million-Dollar championship. When Taz was unable to take the ECW heavyweight championship in the ‘90s, the “FTW” title was born.

Why is this different? For one, Booker T has had a distinguished career, but he should not be considered a legend… not yet, anyway. If anything, recent successes alongside his Main Event Mafia partners Sting, Kevin Nash, Scott Steiner, and Kurt Angle have proven that it is too early to celebrate his past when he should be living in the now.

Plus, what qualifies someone to contend for this championship? Booker’s first two challengers for the strap were Christian Cage and Eric Young, neither of whom is more than 40 years old. How can anyone take this championship seriously if the only seemingly legitimate contenders are fellow members of the Main Event Mafia?

TNA has already upset many of its fans by de-emphasizing the X division championship. By adding another meaningless strap to the mix, TNA could be in danger of alienating even more fans. 

[Booker T laid claim to the Legends championship, a point that did not sit well with Christian Cage (above). Although Cage himself shouldn’t be considered a legend, he still challenged Booker–unsuccessfully–for the title at Turning Point 2008 (right). 

The Main Event Mafia has taken control of TNA, even to the point that it now has come up with its own championship. Even if Booker T is one day considered a legend, it’s inappropriate that a wrestler still in the prime of his career holds such a title.]

Here’s the good news: If it acts now, TNA has an opportunity to not only fix this mess, but make the Legends title a huge hit. 

Think about it: People love legends. Fans pay big bucks to hobnob with them at autograph signings and meet and greets, and everything from the NBA to the PGA holds events dedicated specifically to them. Older fans want to relive their memories and younger fans are always interested to see first hand just how great these individuals were. The world wants to see these stars do their thing in their element. So why on earth would TNA encourage a war between the veterans and the younger wrestlers? Suddenly, 20-year veterans like Sting are forced to clumsily adapt to an entirely new style of wrestling while the younger talents, like A.J. Styles, must slow down their pace to match their older counterparts. The results can be ugly, and in the end, nobody truly wins… least of all the fans.

[It’s not unheard of for organizations to bring back legends to compete; TNA itself has done it before. In a guest appearance back in 2004, Roddy Piper showed up and taught some of the young stars of TNA that he can still land a punch when need be.]

The solution is simple: Establish a defined roster of legends, and let them compete against each other as they strive to contend for the Legends championship. Since legends are typically designated as such at the twilight of their careers or later, stipulate an age minimum, say 45 years old. In addition, to qualify, wrestlers must have won at least one world championship (singles or tag). These stipulations would, at least for now, eliminate men like Booker T and Kurt Angle. Both are still vital members of the present-day wrestling scene and should not be competing in a division that would be best-suited for wrestlers who are not. 

Want to see your favorites from days gone by return to the ring? This division would be the place to do it. The possibilities are endless. Bring back Terry Funk for one last hurrah. Let Bob Backland have his final shot at glory. Plus, there are always those rumblings of a certain “Nature Boy’s” hankering to jump out of retirement. (One suggestion to TNA: Enforce strict pre-match physicals and have EMTs on hand!)

[Bob Backlund is yet another legend TNA has used in recent years and could bring back to compete in a Legends division. Backlund could show off submission holds like the crossface chicken wing, giving fans a glimpse at the skills that made him a Hall of Fame Wrestler.]

The bottom line is that the Legends championships could be a win-win situation for TNA. Greatness never dies, and having some of the greatest competitors in wrestling history in the mix could be a moneymaker for the company. Let them bring the best out of each other, just like they’ve done throughout their careers. Let them compete in dream matches as they look for one last crack at glory.

Let the more youthful divisions of TNA be like a NASCAR race, while the Legends division can be a parade, allowing the fans a chance to slow down and see exactly why these men have earned the right to call themselves legends in the first place. They don't need to be forced into the main event. Instead, let them be an event unto themselves with their own special place on the card. Instead of giving them this unnecessary war with TNA’s future stars, give them the spotlight they’ve earned.

[mightyflamethrower]

President Joe Biden, 81, has been struggling behind closed doors during official meetings, according to an in-depth report published Tuesday that described a president in serious cognitive decline.

The Wall Street Journal spoke to more than 45 people — Republicans and Democrats — over several months about these meetings, including to some who said Biden mumbled and spoke so softly people struggled to hear him, closed his eyes for so long people wondered if he had “tuned out,” and had to read from notes to make “obvious points.”

The octogenarian reportedly told House Speaker Mike Johnson (R-LA) a recent policy change was “just a study,” prompting Johnson to believe Biden forgot the details of his own policy. Former House Speaker Kevin McCarthy (R-CA) told the newspaper, “I used to meet with him when he was vice president. I’d go to his house. … He’s not the same person.”

The newspaper said the White House “kept close tabs” on which Democrats they were interviewing, and some of those Democrats shared with the White House recordings or details of the interviews, and requested to speak again and emphasized Biden’s strengths.

One of those Democrats, Rep. Gregory Meeks (D-NY), told the WSJ, “They just, you know, said that I should give you a call back.”

RELATED: Just Another Tuesday — Biden Stumbles, Coughs Through Boring SpeechWhite House

During a January 17, 2024, meeting on Ukraine with nearly two dozen lawmakers, much of the conversation reportedly “didn’t include him,” and when questions came directly to him, he would turn to staffers. “You couldn’t be there and not feel uncomfortable,” said one person who attended told the paper. “I’ll just say that.”

House Minority Leader Hakeem Jeffries (D-NY), who was there, argued that Biden was “incredibly strong, forceful and decisive.” Sen. James Risch (R-ID), who was also there, disagreed, saying, “What you see on TV is what you get.”

“These people who keep talking about what a dynamo he is behind closed doors—they need to get him out from behind closed doors, because I didn’t see it,” he said.

In the incident with Johnson, Biden reportedly pulled the speaker aside for a chat about what it would take to bring Ukraine aid to the House floor for a vote. Johnson reportedly brought up a new Biden administration policy that halted future permits for shipping LNG to countries while the issue was being studied. Biden told Johnson that it was not true that future permits were being halted, and said it was only a study.

While the White House called the account “false” and said the halt does not affect current exports, no new Energy Department permits for LNG exports have been issued since the policy was announced.

Biden also performed poorly during a May 2023 meeting with Republicans over increasing the debt limit, according to some Republicans there.

RELATED: OOPS! Biden Baffled, Calls Volodymyr Zelensky “Vladimir” at G7 MeetingWhite House

“He would ramble,” McCarthy said. “He always had cards. He couldn’t negotiate another way.” McCarthy said Biden did call him one day from Air Force One, and that he was “more with it than any other time.” However, the next day, during a meeting, Biden lacked that same vigor. “He was going back to all the old stuff that had been done for a long time,” McCarthy told the paper. “And he was shocked when I’d say: ‘No, Mr. President. We talked about that meetings ago. We are done with that.’”

During that meeting, Biden reportedly told the same story more than once about his experiences with the DuPont company during his time as a Delaware senator. White House aides pushed back against the characterizations, calling him a “savvy and effective leader,” and “sharp and engaged.”

“Congressional Republicans, foreign leaders and nonpartisan national-security experts have made clear in their own words that President Biden is a savvy and effective leader who has a deep record of legislative accomplishment,” White House spokesman Andrew Bates told the WSJ. “Now, in 2024, House Republicans are making false claims as a political tactic that flatly contradict previous statements made by themselves and their colleagues.”

RELATED: GET IT TOGETHER, JOE! Biden Appears Confused During Veterans Day CeremonyC-SPAN

Still, not much will likely change public perspectives of Biden. In a March WSJ survey of voters in seven battlegrounds states, only 28 percent said Biden was better suited physically and mentally for the presidency, while 48 percent said Trump. And the WSJ noted, there have been few opportunities to see Biden in unscripted moments.

According to the paper, by the end of April, he had given fewer interviews and press conferences than any of his recent predecessors. His last wide-ranging town-hall-style meeting with an independent news outlet was in October 2021 — more than two years ago, the paper noted. Biden is expected to debate former Trump later this month, on June 27.

[scottwellsmagic]

808: Daniel Garcia - Ideas Unlimited

Daniel Garcia is a highly respected magic creator and consultant. But he is an awesome performer in his own right, too! Daniel helps create magic for David Blaine, Dynamo, Cyril Takayama, and Dynamo, (just to name a few) for their performances on stage and screen and online, too.

Daniel talks this week about some of the celebrated magicians with whom he has worked, as well as how he comes up with his creative ideas. He has a system for developing these ideas that he shares in this episode. He also surrounds himself with other creative types like Blake Vogt, Alex Rangel, Brent Braun, and others who are titans of trickery in their own right.

Download this podcast in an MP3 file by Clicking Here and then right click to save the file. You can also subscribe to the RSS feed by Clicking Here. You can download or listen to the podcast through Pandora and SiriusXM (formerly Stitcher) by Clicking Here or through FeedPress by Clicking Here or through Tunein.com by Clicking Here or through iHeart Radio by Clicking Here. If you have a Spotify account, then you can also hear us through that app, too. You can also listen through your Amazon Alexa and Google Home devices. Remember, you can download it through the iTunes store, too. See the preview page by Clicking Here

In 2023 we suffered the loss of many friends who have passed away, but whom are not forgotten. Perhaps as we grow older, we are more aware of those who pass. But this last year saw the passing of almost twice as many as were listed in the magic obituaries of 2022.

Although the list below is not exhaustive, it does reflect the names of many well-known (and some lesser known) magicians, spouses, assistants and magic aficionados who passed on in 2023. Some may not be as well-known to you, but they were my personal friends (hey, it is my blog!). If you are unfamiliar with any of these names, then it would behoove you to do a little online search of what these people have contributed to our craft. If you have someone you think was overlooked, then please post the name in the comments below on this blog.

Those whose names are highlighted with a “hot link” were featured or interviewed here on The Magic Word Podcast. It was not my original intent when I began this journey to chronicle the voices before they left us, but I am so thankful that I did sit down with many of these friends for lively, and sometimes intimate, conversations. You can click on their name to revisit and listen to their voices again.

Joe Stevens

Scott Alexander

Bob King

George Kimery

Karl Fulves

Véronique Ross

Greg Koren

Maria Ibanez

Thom Peterson

Gloria Metzner aka Gloria Dea

Harry Lorayne

Dr. Edwin “Eddie” Dawes

George Silverman

Dan Witkowski

Milton “Milt” Page Larsen

Ricky D. Boone

Dan Garrett

Larry Becker

Darwin Ortiz

Dirk Arthur

Dick Gustafson

Leo Behnke

Graham Putnam

Jeff Lanes

David Berglas

Jack Delvin

Tom Craven

Micky Hades

Bill Goldman

Tommy Smothers