#high school english class. a thousand high school english classes for you clowns.

[fiovske]

can I just say. coffee theory is stupid and completely cheapens the choice Aziraphale makes.

Aziraphale continues to say no to Metatron's offer until Metatron uses the real bait: if you take over Heaven, you can reinstate Crowley to his Angelic status. And that is what gets Aziraphale to say yes hook line and sinker — he can take Crowley with him so Crowey doesn't have to be afraid of Hell and Aziraphale can run things Do It Right as the Head of Heaven and no one would say anything to Crowley ever again if Aziraphale was on his side. Aziraphale doesn't know about the trial and the fact that Gabriel was fired for disagreeing w Heaven on the Second Armageddon front. He just thinks Gabriel was fired bc he fell in love w a demon (and Aziraphale's in love w a demon). Aziraphale strongly believes that if he can reinstate Crowley as an angel again then there would be no such objections from Heaven at all, because they would both be on the same side and they can be together and if anything ever goes wrong, both Crowley and he would be protected under Aziraphale's position as the new boss of Heaven. Plus, the way he remembers it, Crowley enjoyed making things creating things and still likes to do good deeds which he gets in trouble for if Hell finds out, but he won't if he's an angel, in Aziraphale's eyes then Crowley would be free to do all the good he liked. And because Aziraphale would be the boss, Crowley would be able to ask questions and work with him and make things better w his inquisitive perspective, something Crowley always wanted to do and Aziraphale wants to give him that also.

He doesn't know the full depth of things that Crowley knows, which is why when Crowley hears Aziraphale's offer, all he hears is that Aziraphale is choosing Heaven, after everything they have done to him, Aziraphale is leaving Crowley FOR Heaven. The way he sees it, Aziraphale wants him to change and be Heaven's definition of "Good" so they can both be in Heaven, conforming to a life Crowley left behind long ago, a life he knows Aziraphale wouldn't be happy in either. Which is the killing blow to Crowley's heart bc Aziraphale would choose THAT instead of coming away with Crowley? Devastating. But he doesn't know that Metatron's offer WAS Crowley's Angelification and hence forth security that got Aziraphale to say yes. Crowley hasn't communicated a lot to Aziraphale but Aziraphale also hasn't communicated a lot to him either and they're both on very different pages w the information they've got and what they feel they need to do to be together and be safe and happy.

Does Aziraphale make the naive choice? Yes. Does he make so in full control of his mind and senses? Also yes. Having his coffee poisoned is an incredibly cheap tactic because as a writer it's a cop out. It robs Aziraphale of not only his agency but also the reasonings behind his choice. It absolves him from the struggles and consequences of his actions and robs him of the growth and realization and epiphany he will have in the third act. It cheapens their inevitable reconciliation.

Metatron didn't hand him the coffee to poison him. He handed it to him so he can use the manipulative familiarity of "oh look i brought ur coffee order, isn't it cool how I know your coffee order isn't it nice how we are close like that?" that was the tactic. to get him to listen. Not some elaborate coffee poison.

[arbitrarycategories]

Hi yes I would like you to never shut up about Kaminari I need to know what was too big to talk about what the fandom does to him please tell me more

AKDJSKA ITS 3AM AND I NEED TO GET UP AT NINE SO I WILL BE BACK TO REBLOG THIS AGAIN LATER WITH MORE THOUGHTS BUT TO START

Kaminari isn’t DUMB okay?? He’s not a meme!!! Everyone treats him as a funny quirky side character who can’t do anything but he is literally one of FORTY children to make it into a course that has THOUSAND OF APPLICANTS EACH YEAR. Canonically he is good at English and likes poetry!! He is also good at music and plays guitar! Those things are DIFFICULT and INTELLECTUAL truly my mans must have adhd or something it’s not canon and I’m not diagnosing people on tumblr but he is NOT DUMB!!!!! He’s actually highly intelligent he’s just goofy!

Maybe I can see it easier bc I went through the Highly Exclusive STEM Academy (tm) program at my old high school but guys the fucking class clowns ALWAYS had the best goddamn cited sources even if they were actively failing three out of four shared classes. I know he ranks low in the class rankings (determined by standardized tests rip. Simply further proof of his probable neurodivergence) (autocorrect isn’t recognizing that word fuck OFF you bitchass red ableistic line. Ableism. Ableistic isn’t a word either?????? Autocorrect I will fistfight you) ANYWAY but he has high social intelligence even if maybe school by the book learning isn’t a thing!! He passes the provisional license exam with the rest of his class (except baku and todo lmao) as a FIRST YEAR which the narrative makes a point of saying how much that NEVER HAPPENS!!! He is literally so capable and strong and smart and test scores are NOT how you should be determining this boys personality

Okay for the morning reblog: opposite opinions, quirk control, and relationships

[yhtaejoon]

hi! this is chey, i was here close to opening with kim1 (kim joonwoo), but i got really busy with a new job and accidentally dipped. i’m so so sorry for that! anyway, here’s taejoon’s unfinished info page & his pinterest board. this is rushed so it’s probably gonna be messy??? idk. we’re all in this together. hmu on discord if that’s your thing --- pepper#4940

full name is kang taejoon, but he has no affiliation with the kang family. he’s actually filling the role of daebak8! i checked the last names to make sure he didn’t have the same one as one of the families but alas, my pea-brain still failed me.

on that note, he’s a tiktoker born in 2000. started on vine in 2012, but didn’t actually get serious about his online presence until 2014-ish and IMMEDIATELY started lying about his life because what else is a fourteen year old gonna do online?

lied about his age, his hobbies, his family, his experiences, etc. he just really, really wanted to seem interesting, and hey! it worked! he eventually fooled thousands of people into thinking he’s someone worth their time. chased trends like crazy, kept in close touch with his “fanbase”, picked up sponsorships all while keeping his ACTUAL life completely secret basically. got very comfortable with lying.

he was always pretty obsessed with the attention because he lost his popularity when he stopped playing soccer (f’s in the chat for the former athlete side of him) & getting money from promoting brands was good, too, bc while his family isn’t necessarily lower class, they could still use some help. plus he needed cash to buy anime merch.

flash forward to 2020. he graduated high school in early 2019, still has no desire to go to college or get a “real” job. he has it made rn living in the daebak house and creating online content still. living the life.

except not really because how fulfilling can it honestly be to watch thousands of people becoming fond of ur fake persona? he still lies a ton, has begun to feel like no one will ever like him for who he actually is bc it’s quite disappointing in comparison to the always ON persona he shows. 

his tiktok user name is “beetlejoon” which is a play on beetlejuice if you couldn’t tell dshbfvds.

he speaks english really well from a mix of classes when he was young, growing up online and trying to appeal to westerners, and watching a ton of western shows/films. he does kind of have an accent but for the most part.... a lot of ppl who only know him online assume he lives in america/is from america.

the rumor about him buying views/followers is definitely true. he’s not losing popularity or anything, he just wants to look even more relevant than he actually is.

cries himself to sleep like every night but you’d NEVER guess. he’s super funny when he’s around people, knows what people want and will do anything he can to blend in and make everyone like him. needs that validation so bad. life of the party.

flirts a lot for no other reason than he can and he likes the validation of people flirting back! but his love life is hectic and always disappointing. on one hand, he knows a ton of his followers are delusional w the idea that they can be with him and he doesn’t wanna lose followers by being Unavailable. on the other hand, can’t risk being too close with anyone and them finding out nothing he says is true. heehee.

he follows whatever trends are in at the moment, so he owns a ton of dumb shit that will never be practical/clothes he’ll never wear in public/probably has dumb tattoos he got impulsively.

his trademark thing (that he stole Obviously) is a broken heart that he draws on his cheekbone Every Single Day. probably claims that it’s a tattoo just to fuck with his followers but there’s those odd times when it’s not there and everyone’s confused.

wears all black usually, lots of chains, leather, platform boots, dangly earrings, but he’s not the kind of guy your parents worn you about. he couldn’t be scary if he tried. he’s CLEARLY just a tiktok e-boy. he’s more like the lowlife your parents compare you to to make you feel better about how slow your life is moving.

while we’re talking about parents.... his gave up on him when he moved into the daebak house. he tries to give them money and support them but they won’t have it. decline his calls. don’t write him back. they think he’s mad embarrassing which is... fair. his tiktok presence is definitely questionable

likes to be funny and make people laugh, but he actually cannot take anything seriously even if he tries. this definitely gets on peoples’ nerves, has probably ended some good friendships/relationships/whatever else. sometimes he can lighten the mood if it’s dark but most of the time it just pisses people off bc it seems like he doesn’t care/doesn’t understand.

idk what else to say but if you’ve read this far and you like music, two songs that i heavily associate with taejoon are cotton candy by yungblud and lowkey as hell by waterparks. listen to them if you want... or don’t.

i don’t have a plots page put together yet, but here are some vague ideas i have:

(0/2) --- past tinder dates whom he lied to about his age and it came out somehow </3 maybe he tried to take them to a bar and he got caught with a fake id. maybe they went snooping and found out none of his info adds up. either way, the dates were short-lived and they probably clowned him pretty hard.

(0/?) --- fans of his tiktok page.

(0/?) --- alternatively, people who know of his tiktok page and think it’s dumb.

(0/1) --- another influencer who is jealous of his following, thinks he doesn’t deserve it.

(0/1) --- another influencer who “beefs” with him online so they both get more views.

(0/1) --- another influencer he collabs with a lot, even if their content is completely different. they’re friends, so might as well piggyback of each other’s popularity!

(0/1) --- close friend who makes frequent appearances on his tiktok, usually for relationship trends bc he doesn’t have an actual partner to film them with. usually acting like clowns, clearly faking but his fans still think it might be real. 

(0/1) --- someone he hooked up with at one (or more) of the daebaek house parties and ghosted afterwards. completely acts like he doesn’t know them. oops.

(0/?) --- friends to do dumb shit with. he’s impulsive and just hates to be alone (especially when doing stuff that might get him in trouble) so you could say these are his accomplices. if he wants to do things he’ll regret, they’re always in!

(0/?) --- some mellow friends who balance out his chaos.

(0/1) --- the one (1) friend he got matching tattoos with on impulse. probably something really stupid. the one thread that holds their friendship together when they fight.

(0/1) --- someone who holds themselves to really high standards, takes life seriously. thinks they’re better than taejoon and doesn’t hesitate to show it.

(0/1) --- ex partner who broke up with taejoon because (1) he wouldn’t stop lying to them, (2) he still claimed to be single online and (3) he just cracked jokes when they tried to talk out their problems, wouldn’t really listen. probably hate him now but he’s really sorry. please accept these (cheap, probably wilting) apology flowers.

i want every plot. all of them. anything u can throw at me! but if i kept typing ideas out, i’d be at this forever and we really can’t have that. so just hit me up if any of these catch your attention or if you’ve got anything you think he’d fit! 

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

honestly I think the number 1 (no. 1) reason i outgrew my interest in drama/acting and studying acting, was because of the classic “washed up amateur actor who ends up several thousand dollars in debt who just ends up being a children’s party entertainer (usually a clown)* trope..... that even ended up as a joke in kids shows or movies when I was a kid, where it was mostly like:

*open scene in a fredrickson high’s career advisor’s office, with carter henderson and the career advisor, ms. ganthrope.*

ms ganthrope: so carter, what do you want to be when leave school?

carter: i want to be an actor!

ms ganthrope: oh carter, pick something more achievable and realistic and helpful to your parents 🙄😤! what about being a teacher or something like that? do you really want to be an actor? maybe reconsider your interest, yeah?

carter: but i want to be an actor though??? why is that so bad?

ms ganthrope: do you think you’ll be successful, carter? or do you want to be washed up and jobless in your 20s while everyone else you know has a stable job? how will that help you? will you still be passionate about it when you’re constantly between jobs and working as a barista???? becoming a successful and famous actor, like i suspect you’re thinking you will turn out to be, will be as achievable as miss Coltrane’s dream job of being a politician.

carter: um what? i..... i never thought of that. maybe i will have to think about it. but what if I am successful though or whatever and don’t actually want to be famous and all that junk???

ms ganthrope: that ends our meeting today carter, want to meet next week?

carter: but, like, miss, you didn’t even answer my questions??? what does jenny got to do with this conversation?

ms. ganthrope: thanks mr. henderson, come back next week *looks down starts writing notes*

carter: *gets up to leave* well thanks, i guess, miss. *shrugs and walks out*

*end scene*

okay the above example is pretty awful, but you get my point, yeah? because a fair amount of interactions between usually a teenager expressing they’d like to be a actor/actress or do something in the arts, usually ran like this in any tv show etc, and it really pissed me off. like why must the kid who has in interest in being a writer/artist/actor etc always reassess/reevaluate their career aspirations, while the character who is always pitted against them is from a field in stem or education or whatever, as if those fields have more achievable career paths etc.... when nowadays literally nearly EVERYTHING requires a masters degree to look good and to be successful.

anyway, to get back on track. even years after I grew out of my interest in acting, i was finding this joke in kids media. for example, I went to watch Pixar’s inside out with my best friend’s mum back in 2015..... and we stayed to watch the end credits. during the end credits, they show you inside other people’s minds (not including Riley and her parents) and how their emotions worked for the lighthearted end of movie lols.

one mind they look into is that of like a 40 year old (let’s say) man, who, no surprises here, is literally the trope that I mentioned earlier. one of the guys “feelings” per se, even said something wryly along the lines of: “why did I even bother doing this? $40,000 & four years of drama school for this! ugh! I can’t believe I’m this washed up and dressed as a clown while doing it! I’m 40! well played, Dave, old buddy. well played.” my assumption is that it was meant to be some type of dark humour joke for the adults who go with their kids.... or like young adults who still watch Pixar movies (like myself at the time at 19/20 lmao).... and that they might try to rely on kids not staying to watch credits....

but like..... imagine being a kid, say aged 10 (ok im not sure what the main age demographic was/is for inside out, but im assuming it was/is like 5-12) hearing that joke for the first time in the end of a kids movie???? like what the fuck is that??? like why are studios putting these jokes in kids shows/movies anyway???? and telling kids that their aspiration of being a successful actor is a pipe dream????

like don’t get me wrong, i know being an actor (like a hugely successful one or even a moderately successful one) is a pipe dream for many many people, including myself, due to the realities of life not playing out like they wanted them to or like.... the money aspect of going to a good acting school being a hurdle (for example, i S T U P I D L Y wanted to go to the aussie version of Juilliard, in Sydney- the National Institute of Dramatic Arts (NIDA)... or where half of australia’s premier hollywood acting stars attended- which meant I had to move to sydney to be closer to it.... and then also pay for compulsory class trips throughout the course to LA/hollywood and London, for starters... both of which my family couldn’t afford even if I’d had financial aid..... like tell me chasing the dream of studying and pursuing the passion of acting ain’t just made for moderately well-off/rich kids lmao).... and a whole other set of factors that mean people can’t/don’t achieve their “dream” of being a “real” actor...

but with the above, what im mainly saying is that kids shouldn’t have “deadbeat actor” type jokes in their media... because I think it’s idk hurtful to always have your field of interest always put down and kinda shunned from the minute that you’re watching tv and movies.

like I’m not gonna lie, I did run with the “I’m gonna be a deadbeat broke actor” stereotype joke for a while in high school, because I thought it was funny af.... but after a while it wore me down.... mainly because it made me realise just what a shitty industry acting- and the whole entertainment industry in general- can be for some people.... when this is like the number one stereotype that people know (particularly) amateur actors as and for.

anyway yeah. I hope these jokes stop popping up in kids media sometime soon. like hell, we’re all in significant student debt etc etc, no matter what study field we’re in these days. stop pitting arts fields (and it’s actually bad in arts faculties as well; like with journalism/communications/acting departments vs arts departments like philosophy and English at my home uni where I did my undergrad) against fields in stem or law or even business majors as better things to study, when even people in those degree streams can struggle to find jobs in their desired fields. like we’re all struggling to find meaningful and stable graduate work out here y’all... not just acting students, christ. most of us will probably be washed up at 40 no matter field we’re in, in this godawful global captialist hellscape that is 2019 almost 2020.

lol here’s another rant.

[yallreddieforthis]

My Summer From Hell: A Tale of Friendship

Fandom: It (2017)

Pairing: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier (minor mentions of Richie’s crush on Eddie)

Rating: T (for language)

Words: 2.9k

Movie canon-compliant.  Also posted on AO3. This is that summer experience essay Richie warned us about.

“Richie Tozier?”

Richie takes a reluctant break from the sick-ass game of MASH: The Wonder Years Edition he’s playing by himself in his algebra notebook to look up at his teacher, who is waving a blue note and glaring expectantly at him.

Blue note. That means Neil wants to see him. Damn, only five days into the school year! New—actually, not a new record. Richie feels like he and the principal should be on a first-name basis by now; Richie’s in his office a lot. He rarely gets punished because most of the things he does toe the line of punishable offenses magnificently—he usually just gets told to stop doing whatever it is he’s doing and then gets sent back to class. If he was down there getting detention every other day, he’d understand what the problem was. But alas, Neil shot down the suggestion of being called Neil right away. So they can only be on a first-name basis in Richie’s head. Too bad.

The Math and Science building is as far away from the Administration building as you can get without leaving Derry Junior High, and Richie takes his time during the walk to Neil’s office, stopping outside the computer lab until Eddie catches sight of him through the window. He makes a gesture that causes Eddie to give him a surreptitious middle finger, hidden from his teacher by the monitor, but his cheeks also bloom cherry red, so Richie counts it as a win because it’s the cutest goddamn thing he’s seen all day. It feels like every other day now Richie’s being hit in the face with how adorable Eddie really is. He’s torn between wanting to pinch his cheeks and kiss him on the mouth, and frankly he’s mostly still straddling the fence on that issue only because he doesn’t want to deal with the answer.

In contrast to having a pretty good idea deep down what direction things are headed in regarding his general feelings about Eddie, Richie has not the slightest clue why he’s being called to the principal’s office the Friday after school started. None of the things he’s done should have been discovered yet. It makes no sense.

Bill is in the computer lab too, and Richie can’t see him from where he’s sitting, so he heads over to the staircase at the end of the hall. Pausing to make sure no teachers are lurking around to give him shit for it, he sits down at the top of the railing and slides down. Actually, he slides about a fourth of the way down before falling off and sort of rolling the rest of the way, but no one saw that so it still counts as a success.

He walks past the yard to watch Stan and Ben running the mile in P.E. Stan is fucking booking it, and Richie dawdles long enough to figure out that he’s a lap ahead of everyone else. Running away from Bowers for a few years will do that to ya. Well, at least it will if you’re Stan. Richie still can’t run an 8 minute mile, so his P.E. grade has stagnated at a B-.

Richie stops in the middle of the hallway in the Language Arts Building, glancing into Mr. Tremblay’s French 1 class. Bev was planning on taking that this year, and she’d be in there if she hadn’t moved to Portland. Sometimes—and Richie hates thinking about this because there’s no use in dwelling on it—but sometimes he really wants to kick himself for not getting to know her sooner. She’s the best bro he’s ever had that’s a girl, and it just really sucks ass that they only got to hang out for like one summer.

Before he even realizes it, he’s walking into the front office. Bertha glances up at Richie through her horn-rimmed reading glasses.

“Mr. Tozier! What’d you do this time?” she asks brightly. Ah, Bertha. She and Richie have a rapport. Richie might go so far as to say she even likes him, at least a little. He’s made her laugh at least seven times, and once in sixth grade she told him he had a real gift after he showed her his best Rick Moranis impression. She doesn't bullshit him, and he doesn’t bullshit her. Well, not very much at least.

“I have no idea,” he tells her honestly, resting his elbows on her desk, which is decorated with a rubber band ball, a Hoberman sphere, several pictures of her nieces and nephews, and the biggest Hershey’s Kiss Richie has ever seen in his entire life. Seriously, it’s almost as big as his goddamn face. Apparently, she got it on a trip to New York, and she’s had it at least as long as Richie has known her. He has never wanted to eat a thing so badly in his entire life, regardless of how old it is. It’s a fucking Hershey’s Kiss. Do those things even go bad? Either way, it’s Richie’s number one goal to take a big fucking bite out of that thing before he culminates at the end of the year. He’s a thousand percent sure it will taste like sweet victory.

“Neil?” Bertha calls over her shoulder. “Did you send for Richie Tozier?”

Neil’s voice floats back through the open door behind Bertha. “Oh, yes. Thanks, send him on back.”

Neil’s desk always starts the year looking pristine, and by the last day of school it is filled with stacks of pure chaos. Richie admires him for trying again at the beginning of each year. It’s like how his mom buys him a binder for each class and book covers and sets up an organizational system for his homework and notes despite knowing that it won’t last a month. It’s nice of her to try, but Richie is pretty sure they both go into it with the understanding that it’s kind of a hail Mary situation.

So right now Neil’s just got like three pictures of his wife, a snowglobe with GREETINGS FROM ST. PAUL written on the base, and a manageable-looking stack of papers in file folders. Godspeed, sir.

“Mr. Tozier,” Neil says by way of greeting, “please have a seat.”

“How was your summer, Ne—Principal McCormack?” Richie asks, plopping down into the chair directly opposite Neil.

Neil’s eyebrows raise. “Not as interesting as yours, based on what I heard from Ms. Pfarrer this afternoon,” he says, reaching into his desk and pulling out two pieces of lined paper stapled together. “Care to explain?”

He places it directly in front of Richie. Richie peers at it. The top right corner reads: Richie Tozier, English 8A, Period 4, September 3, 1989. It wasn’t stapled when he handed it in, he’d just sort of folded the corners over together and hoped for the best, but Ms. Pfarrer must have gone ahead and stapled it for him.

“That would be yesterday’s English homework.”

“Correct,” says Neil. “I want you to read this entire essay out loud to me, and then I’m going to ask you some questions. Okay?”

Richie’s not sure if the questions are about the contents of the essay, or if Neil just can’t read his handwriting. Then again, that sounds like a Ms. Pfarrer problem; he’s not sure why she’d bring it to the principal if she just couldn’t read it. Normally she just hands it back to him and tells him to rewrite it when that happens, or at least that’s what she did last year. If his teachers have suddenly decided to send him to the principal every time he turns in an illegible assignment, it’s going to be a very long year.

But whatever.

  My Summer From Hell: A Tale of Friendship

  If you had asked me at the end of last year what the worst thing about my summer would probably be, I would have bet a hundred bucks it was going to be the trip I took down to Augusta to see my grandma two weeks ago, which sucked. All we did was watch Matlock all week and she made me get a really shi bad haircut, just like last year. It’s going to take me months to grow it out. But compared to what went down in July and the beginning of August, eating soup at Grandma Dottie’s house was NOTHING.

You know how kids just disappear off the face of the earth all the time here in Derry? If you didn’t, that’s a fun fact from me to you that I learned from my new friend Ben (he’s in your 5th period class). Well, while we were looking for my other friend Bill’s missing brother, we found out where they all went.

Underneath our feet, down in the sewers, there lives a killer clown. That’s right, you heard it here first. Like John Wayne Gacy, but 100000x worse because it’s for sure not human. Sometimes It’s a clown, sometimes not. Depends. On what? I have no idea. It was usually a clown when I saw it but one time it started turning into maybe a werewolf. It can turn into anything it wants and it eats kids.

Anyway, It almost killed all of us on the fourth of July. We Bill decided to go try and fight It at the creepy ass house on Neibolt street, and that was an absolute shit show disaster. Ask Ben to show you the sick scar on his stomach if you don’t believe me. Eddie fell through a giant hole in the floor and broke his arm. I got mad at Bill for bringing us all there and he punched me in the face, and then I didn’t talk to him for a month.

Then It dragged Beverly Marsh into its nasty sewer lair and we all went down the grossest well in Derry to get her back. Henry Bowers followed us because he just has to ruin everything, even things that are already the worst. There’s this giant cistern that has a huge pile of broken toys and crap and the clown lives in there. There were hundreds of dead kids floating in the air.

It’s a long story but I beat the shit crap out of It with a baseball bat and we fought it back. We swore to each other that we’d all come to fight It again if it returns. Anyway, the moral of this summer is that you can achieve anything if you work together and also that there is no way Henry Bowers could have caused an explosion during the 1800’s. I want to see him go to jail for taking a dump in my backpack for sure, and I guess for killing Belch, Vic and his dad too, but I know for a fact that he didn’t kill Georgie Denbrough or Betty Ripsom or Ed Corcoran. This town is just cursed.

  Richie looks up brightly at Neil when he finishes reading. Neil takes a deep breath and rubs his temples with his fingers.

“I’m not sure you understood what the assignment was, Richie,” he says. “This is an inventive—and deeply disturbing—story, but this was supposed to be about what you actually did over the summer, not—”

“Yeah,” says Richie. “It is. I mean, I didn’t think Ms. Pfarrer was going to actually read them all. But—”

“This was a nonfiction assignment though.”

Neil’s being real slow on the uptake. Maybe his brain is still on summer break.

“Yeah,” says Richie, nodding. “As in, this is what actually happened to me. Here’s where we swore we’d come back and fight again when we’re old. If It comes back.” Richie holds out his left hand so Neil can see the freshly healed scar.

“Ouch,” Neil winces. “How did you get that?”

Richie rolls his eyes. “I cut it on glass. On purpose. Go get the others—they’ll tell you. Eddie Kaspbrak, Stanley Uris, Bill Den—”

“Please stop with the games,” says Neil. “Just—I’ve had a long week. We all have. Ms. Pfarrer wanted me to look into sending you to the school psychologist. I know you like to, you know, do what you do, but this is taking it too far.”

“Why would I lie to you about this?” Richie asks. He puts both elbows on the desk and leans forward. “Seriously. Why?”

“Attention-seeking behavior is common after the kind of trauma we’ve all experienced over the past year,” Neil says. Super patient, like he’s quoting a textbook and speaking to a preschooler. “I know what happened with Henry was a surprise to—”

“Wait, wait wait,” Richie interrupts. “You think I wrote this to get attention?”

Neil sighs and throws up his hands. “I can’t think of any other reason. If there is one, I’d love for you to give me some insight.”

Honestly? How fucking dare he. It strikes Richie in that moment how goddamn unfair this is. They had to do this with everyone—from explaining those nasty bites on Stan’s face to Eddie being grounded for the rest of the summer, to knowing exactly why there were so many more bodies in the sewer than missing kids from this past year and no one believing them…

“How about this for insight? ” Richie says. “I’ve been through too much trauma this year to come up with another bullshit story that all you adults will eat up. None of you care what actually happened; you just want me to tell you something that means you don’t have to do anything about it. Well, you’re gonna have to come up with your own lie to tell yourself. I’m not doing it for you.”

Neil is gaping. But Richie keeps going.

“I thought it was Bowers before this summer and honestly, I wish I’d been right. And it’s not like I’m sorry that he’s getting all this shit pinned on him even though he didn’t do it. My life is a million times easier without him around—he can get strung up by his ballsack for all I care.”

“Richie, there’s a mountain of evidence against—”

“I don’t give a shit about evidence,” says Richie. “I know what I saw. I know what happened. I know, and Bill knows, and Stan knows, and Bev… What do you care though? You’ll probably be dead anyway by the time It comes back.”

“Is that supposed to be some kind of threat?” Principal McCormack asks. His face has gone hard and stony like Richie’s never seen before; like Richie has crossed a real line this time. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows there’s going to be nasty consequences for this, but he can’t find it in himself to give a shit.

“You wouldn’t believe me even if it was,” Richie mutters. “Just… Fuck it. Send me to the school shrink or whatever. Give me detention; flunk my essay. None of this shit matters anyway.”

“You can bet you’re getting all three of those things,” says Principal McCormack with a mirthless chuckle. “And I’m not sure what’s gotten into you this year, but I feel like—”

“Do I sound like the grownups in Charlie Brown when I talk?” Richie demands. “Seriously, am I making like, actual words to you? Or are you just hearing wah wah wah when I—”

“I’m calling your parents,” Principal McCormack says over him. “Is something going on at home?”

Richie feels blood pounding through his veins. Like it could melt his skin. He looks Principal McCormack dead in the eye, reaches for his essay and tears it to shreds, standing slowly.

“In the end,” he says, his voice shaking and frustrated tears threatening to overpower him, “it’s not going to make any difference if you don’t believe me. We’ll come back, all of us. Me and Eddie. Ben, Beverly, Mike. Bill. Stan. What you think doesn’t change that.”

And as suddenly as it came, the anger evaporates. Just...poof. Gone. It clears, and there’s fucking gobsmacked Principal McCormack sitting there like a lump, staring at Richie. Maybe he heard the individual words, but one thing Richie know for sure: he still doesn’t get it. And he never will. And not just him; Ms. Pfarrer. Even Bertha, whether she thinks Richie is gifted or not. And his parents…

There’s a sick loneliness that kind of creeps in to fill up where his anger was, colder than a January wind. Every time his dad comforted him as a kid, when he’d check under the bed and in the closet for monsters, was a lie. When his mom told him he’d be safe sleeping in their bed. That nothing was coming to get him. That they’d never let him get hurt. Lies, all of it. And it’s not like the adults in his life are lying to him on accident. The truth is right there in front of their stupid fucking faces and they just refuse to look at it.

The chill settles into a stony sort of resolution. Richie has stared the truth in the face and didn’t flinch. Even getting suspended is fucking nothing compared to… Whatever. He’s getting detention anyway. Might as well make it memorable. He turns on his heel and walks out of the office.

“If you’re still alive in 2016,” Richie calls over his shoulder, “I’ll hit you up at your nursing home and let you know I was right all along.”

[brokenhandsmedia]

Down The Highway of the Damned: American Gothic

Perdition’s Teeth borrows from many sources — it is consciously formatted as an epic, it draws from Hardboiled and Road Fiction (most obviously Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath, and — indirectly, Whose Names are Unknown, by Sanora Babb, the woman who did all of the research for both novels.) That said, the one well that Edgar and I kept coming back to is that of regional American Gothic.

North America is a vast continent, spanning thousands of miles — the tag line comes from the distance between Oklahoma City (where the second episode begins, at the chronological beginning of the series) and Goldfield, where the first episode begins in media res. Between these two places, the heroes meet dangers both mundane and fantastic, and it is in this borderland that the gothic thrives — the tension between two poles, and the irreconcilable conflict between them.

Southern Gothic

The first articulated regional American Gothic (though there is an old tradition of Gothic stories in the North East, reaching back to Washington Irving, Nathaniel Hawthorne, and Herman Melville, all of which are reasonably characteristic of the area, but which was not conceived of as New England — and possibly not even as American.) Southern Gothic is concerned with decay and decrepitude, with social mores and boundaries — their enforcement and their transgression — and grotesque people and situations.

Some luminaries of Southern Gothic are Edgar Allen Poe, Ambrose Bierce, Harry Crews, Flannery O’Connor, Harper Lee, and Joe R. Lansdale.

I’m tempted to gloss over it, in all honesty, because of how prevalent it is in culture: if you’ve seen True Detective or The Night of the Hunter, or read “A Rose for Emily” or “A Good Man Is Hard To Find” in a high school literature class, you’ve encountered Southern Gothic. And in our second episode “The Shamus”, we had aimed for a more Noir feel, but landed square in Southern Gothic.

Midwestern Gothic

Arguably, Perdition’s Teeth doesn’t pass through the Midwest, but we’re from Kansas City, so it crept in. Midwestern Gothic is something like Southern Gothic, but also shares a certain aesthetic similarity to English Folk Horror. The North American Continent was once home to hundreds — if not thousands — of indigenous cultures, and every regional American Gothic has the consciousness that this land is a graveyard. In the gothic fiction of the Midwest, this knowledge is juxtaposed with the horror vacui of the vast empty spaces of the great plains. This is the gothic fiction of absence and emptiness, and the things that we paint upon it — nostalgia, eternity, and of the outside breaching into the inside, often in a more violent and dramatic fashion than one finds in Southern Gothic.

Perhaps the preeminent work of Midwestern Gothic is Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury, a beautiful work of poisonous nostalgia that wrestles with an invasion of the grotesque and eldritch into the everyday.

More recently, John Darnielle — of the band the Mountain Goats — released Universal Harvester, a novel that was fundamentally (in my reading) about the horror of Not Knowing. It was about someone encountering something disturbing and inexplicable spliced into the everyday and trying to make sense of it.

As far as films go, the closest I can think of is “Fargo” by the Coen Brothers: the invasion of violence into the small town context, the attempt to puzzle out the events. It is somewhat more mundane than most of my other examples, but it is certainly an example of Midwestern Gothic.

Our fifth episode, “Homestead” — originally given the somewhat on-the-nose title “Murder Farm” — is prime Midwestern Gothic, though with some reversals necessary for the conventions of the show. The actual events draw somewhat on Shirley Jackson’s We Have Always Lived in the Castle, and the Hinterkaifeck murders, but the framing and tone are our love-letter to this slice of Americana.

A heap of broken images, where the sun beats, And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief, And the dry stone no sound of water. Only There is shadow under this red rock, (Come in under the shadow of this red rock), And I will show you something different from either Your shadow at morning striding behind you Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you; I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

—T.S. Eliot,

“The Waste Land”

Southwestern Gothic

I have attempted, in the above juxtaposition, to sum up the feeling of Southwestern Gothic, the blend of threatening kitsch and philosophical depth, the mixture of cultural elements that blend like oil and water.

Southwestern Gothic is much more aesthetic-minded than the other two examples I have detailed here. Don’t get me wrong, there is a great deal of style to Southern Gothic, and a fair amount in Midwestern Gothic, but Southwestern Gothic is something that you can identify on sight. You can tell it in your gut, as easily as you can tell you don’t want to hang out in a Clown Motel in a small town in Nevada that was built next to a 600-occupant cemetery filled primarily by people who died in mine collapses. It’s stolen Pueblo and Navajo artifacts; it’s old mission churches left to the desert dust and Old West ghost towns; it’s trailer parks full of people just trying to scrape by; it’s a lake of green glass in the desert from a nuclear test; its the sickly, strange lights flying at super speed over the highway, visible in the rear view mirror of your car.

Despite going everywhere and getting in to everything, the X-Files is often Southwestern Gothic. Portions of the video games Fallout 1, Fallout 2, and New Vegas, are Southwestern Gothic. Cormac McCarthy’s novels — including No Country For Old Men and Blood Meridian — are often Southwestern Gothic.

Our current duology — the Malpais episodes, which start with “The Crooked Man” and end next week with “The Crooked Road” — are our own attempts at Southwestern Gothic. We’re going to spend some more time in this mode as the narrative plunges deeper into the desert.

[bestfluteninja]

actual things my teachers have said, pt. 2

part 1 here

so, in honor of school about to start again, here’s my teacher quotes from second semester last year, my freshman year of high school. enjoy.

“Day one and you’re already undressing”

“I went to college for this”

“I’ve taught one person something today”

“He looks so loose and relaxed because he’s dead”

“There was this one pope who was a total prude”

“It’s called the Great Deflowering, and they just took all the penises off the statues”

“One student said, ‘do you think there’s this basket of stone penises in the Vatican?’”

“Oh, it’s like ‘pièce’ means ‘piece’ or something”

“Do you sleep in the salle à manger (dining room)? Only if you have a very sad life”

“I don’t know why I suddenly know your restroom schedule”

“I want to get up on a ladder and touch your hair. Still sounds weird”

“And then you have Columbus or Vasco de Gama’s little ship, which looks like it’s going to be eaten by the big ship”

“Let’s go metric, which we’re crazy for not using”

“When I pass on to whatever”

“You tempt my middle finger”

“Stop talking about my coworkers in a negative way. Or positive. Just stop.”

“I almost said a word I shouldn’t”

“Nachos aren’t happening without cheese”

“We are about to learn a new tense, which will shake the foundations of everything you know and love”

“Let’s make this nice and incriminating”

“Next year I’ll have to require students to get a tattoo of their password”

“Anybody else wanna criticize my decisions?”

“Hey. Hey! HEY!...have a good day”

“After announcements, I’m going to melt your faces off, so be ready”

“It’s magic time, kids”

“I have mad babysitting skills”

“You don’t go to all this effort if you have wheat just growing in your backyard”

“The Catholic Church was into destruction”

“You really don’t wanna write it down because then you’ll cry”

“Anyone wanna help me summon the dead?”

“My mother still tells me I should’ve been a lawyer”

“Rooms and stuff, oh yeah”

“That way, when he’s an old man, people can go ‘you’re old’ and he’ll be like ‘whaaa’“

“If you’re sitting there just tapping really hard, I don’t know what your aggression is”

“I wish I had autopilot”

“I won’t make you cry”

“There were some that considered that blasphemous. Heracy. Scientific heracy.”

“The access code is cookies18 because I’m surrounded by cookies and it’s 2018″

“Thumbs down is like ‘bro why’“

“Are you having fun in art class? Stop that”

“You all think you’re gang members now”

“Something French, woman! Get it together”

“We can be like Congress and have to have a talking stick”

“Here’s a dog with three stereotypes all at once”

“I am as serious as a heart attack”

“You don’t see many of those furry little creatures around here anymore. Except raccoons. They’re everywhere”

“It’s not politics if everyone agrees”

student: “I like your shoes” teacher: “thanks, they’re killing my feet”

“Focus less on witty comments”

“If we could just hang out, I’d, like, braid your hair”

“This guy with a stick, that can’t be good”

“Spent a little too much time in the harem, if you get my meaning”

“I really do try to find anything with singing and dancing camels”

“Another creepy clown, fantastic”

“Are those flower garlands, or are they chains?”

“Oh, how progressive, that you add Hindu women to your harem”

“Probably for the release death would bring”

“Easy with the f-bomb”

“I’m gonna go ahead and mark everyone absent just because I like to mess with the front office”

“That was a pretty good airplane”

“I got too deep in a book and forgot to make your test”

“This is for your cultural education” *shows Shia LaBoef*

“You don’t know why, but you know you hate them”

“This is a holdup, pow pow pow, give me all your money”

“Screaming is the same in every language”

“Satan scares me”

“I have nothing against turtlenecks, usually”

“420, blaze it. I shouldn’t have said that, it was inappropriate”

“If you don’t know basic computer skills, you’re just doomed”

“Attacked by many animals...I can just see him walking down the street going ‘oh god not again’“

“She’s preening you”

“We don’t do midterms in here cause they’re awful”

“I love praise”

“Everything is petit pois”

“Nobody can get through the French Revolution in a day and a half except me”

“Back when the History Channel had history”

“Everyone is like ‘oh I’m so nostalgic for the nineties’ and I’m like ‘burn it with fire’“

“Feel free to email me, I won’t respond”

“Don’t hurt each other”

“She looks like a jellyfish. No! That’s so cool! I love jellyfish!”

“I felt like lying on the floor and curling up in a ball”

“Laugh. Move on.”

“Your fort should be strong, to keep the Huns from invading”

“Why are you so smart right now?”

“I have all of her anxiety and none of her skill”

“Whatever will make my parents angriest”

“What’s happening, you animals?”

“Just fractions, nothing magical”

student: *drops ruler* teacher, deadpan: “why”

“Sooner or later that bell will ring and you’ll be like ‘yo what the heck’”

“Anytime there’s chanting, just be careful”

“There’s no mentions of prostitutes in the Jamaica letter”

“I like fire, so I might burn it”

“These are in your way just to distract you”

“Don’t build your expectations up too high”

“Oh, I had alcohol”

“I want to leave with both my kidneys, thanks”

“If you would take a town out of Alabama and put it here, that’s Fortville” (we live in Indiana)

“I’m gonna start dressing like a clown to get your guys’ attention”

“Everybody needs extra money in life”

“I don’t know if you guys know this, but an essential part of living is being able to breathe”

“I’m a popcorn-aholic”

“We’re gonna do an exercise in loving yourself real quick”

“I barely even go outside”

“It’ll be terrible. You’re gonna have nightmares”

“It is a vest with fake pockets and a cape attached”

“There are very few people who are not gifted in anything”

“Please let me retire”

“If the lottery plays out on Wednesday, I might be gone by Thursday”

“Then we burnish it with a wooden spoon because I’m too cheap to buy burnishers and a wooden spoon works”

“Be mindful of when you’re leaning up against cabinets. Or get shoved into them”

“I like to touch art. Not supposed to, but I like to”

“If you go to Canada, I need you to steal a stop sign”

“I always get excited but it’s always just you, being fantastic”

(a blade from our art project went missing) “I think there are three scenarios. One, someone dropped it and just refuses to acknowledge that they dropped something. Two, someone put it in their pocket to take it home and have..fun with it later. Three, someone.....ingested it”

“You don’t steal the blades during the demonstration. You steal them during class time, when nobody’s looking”

“God, it’s snowing again”

“Can you grow poppies? Yes. If you grow 10-20 acres, the authorities are probably gonna come talk to you”

“If you had the letters for that in scrabble, that’s the whole game right there”

“Oh, Gandhi, you’re name-dropping”

“Isn’t that dog staring into your soul?”

“I’m just impressed with anyone that can wear horizontal stripes”

“It won’t be fatal drowning”

“You can have the rest of the time to annoy each other”

“We’ll cover up the ‘attack teacher’ sign so you’re not scared of me anymore”

*chalk squeaks* “sorry, forgot to oil the chalk”

“I don’t wake up in the mornings and go ‘oh, themes’“

“I am not Harry Potter’s uncle”

“If I cared, I would’ve asked”

“That’s where the Bordeaux wine comes from. Not that you’d know that, right, kids?”

“They don’t care about your happiness”

“Kay cool do stuff”

“No, I will not allow that. You cannot just eat butter”

“If I were to buy a Japanese car and drive it into my mother’s driveway, that would probably be it. She’d go toward the light”

“Since that’s all so depressing, we’ll end with a taco dog”

“I am intellectually aware that there were days when the sun came out”

“I have to get paid for this”

“I just have under a thousand dollars in my bank account at all times”

“We are French two, we are a little better than second-grade writing level”

“If you have to ask me if it’s appropriate, it’s not”

“It’s plagiarism, 100%. Don’t even care”

“For God’s sake, people, indent your paragraphs”

“It’s Morgan Freeman and Matt Damion, what else do you need”

student: “banana” teacher: “good, jenna”

*sharp intake of breath*

“Join us on the dark side of Honors English”

*shows us stick figure* “look at this detail”

“Well, that’s just magical.” minute later: “never mind”

“I’ll try to come up with a Plan D”

“In India, they love cricket, whatever the heck cricket is”

“Before I buy Shrek 2 online”

“Next thing you throw, you’re gonna eat”

“Have I mentioned your guys’ grand prize? It’s absolutely nothing”

“Nowadays you just take a selfie. This is for you. Wink wink.”

“Hey guys, say bonjour to my mom”

“She says sit down and shut up”

“He’s my scapegoat, his mom said I could”

if you read all of these, i hope you were amused. i certainly was. all of these are completely real. if you feel like it, send me an ask with your favorites

[isroselalondebisexual]

What do you think Rose Egbert would be like? :0 And Dave Harley, John Lalonde, and Jade Strider

Rose Egbert, raised in a supportive, loving home environment, would probably still be fighty and punchy because I don’t think there’s a single parent in existence that could ever change that about her, but she’s also very likely going to be more inclined to wait until being PROMPTED before she lets loose her floods of salt and snark. So like, a pretty regular girl on first impressions, definitely deeply entrenched in her Hot Topic mall goth phase, wears chokers from Spencers and whatnot, but pretty friendly at face value and in all the advanced literature courses, has been in every psychology class the public education system offers. On the debate team. And so you’re like, cool, she’s on debate, that should be fun, she’s pretty well composed as a person I bet she has some good thoughts. And then you attend one of the debate matches. And you see a side of Rose Egbert you never knew existed and holy hot DAMN you’re not sure if you’re terrified or in love with her. Possibly both. Probably both. She’s quick witted alright, devastatingly intelligent and in this to WIN. Dad Egbert has all of her debate trophies (medals? I wasn’t in debate idk how these things work) displayed as proudly as he displayed his clown statues in the canon timeline. Her role as a Seer of Breath is to best free the timeline and her friendgroup from the clutches of the Literally-A-Demon Lord of Time, who seeks to enslave them, their timeline, and the universe to his whims, to become his playthings. Her role is to forsee the best route, not in terms of luck, but as a specific, pointed fuck you to Doc Scratch, Lord English, and everything associated with them. That part in canon where Rose is talking to Doc and he’s like “do you even still have that emotion?” or whatever and she’s like “Why, yes, it seems it’s all been mysteriously relocated to my middle finger. The dark magics are at it again.” Like that but times a thousand she is SMART she has FORESIGHT and she is going to FREE THEIR TIMELINE, BITCH.

Dave Harley grew up alone on an island with a magic dog and some weird chess folk, so first of all he doesn’t know what a gender is so jot that down, second of all what do you mean boys don’t like boys? Obviously boys like boys, he likes boys, u r foolish, u silly human culture you. So uh, you know how Dave is like, this huge massive attention whore in canon and he starts out “I’m so cool are you noticing me being cool and not caring over here”? Yeah no, immediately bypasses that, this boy wants ATTENTION so TALK TO HIM DAMMIT. His only real guide for physical touch has been a dog and some people who are not human so Personal Space Whomst? Dave is here, he is in your personal space, you are paying attention to him bitches. His collection of weird dead shit is even weirder, given that it is a Harley tradition to taxidermy weird shit and also he lives out on an island now. Probably takes the PRETTIEST photos of like, the island views and stuff, which he naturally posts online and gets a lot of likes and reblogs for which, good, give him that sweet sweet validation. His selfies are everywhere. Go like them. His role as the Knight of Space would be a pretty important one, he’s upholding the balance of the universe and breeding the new one and stuff, which basically just means he’s the weird frog dad now. You see all those frogs? Those are his babies. He loves them. Smorch. Dave ew don’t kiss frogs that’s gross. Dave does not care, Dave is gonna smooch those frogs bc he loves them and all their mutant little paradox offspring. Dave the frog whisperer. Whenever Karkat’s getting screechy he just like. Takes one out of his sylladex or his hood or pocket or SOMEWHERE and sets it delicately down in front of Karkat when he’s not looking and Karkat proceeds to screech and flip out and Dave laughs at him. This Dave is likely a lot more carefree, but doesn’t have a good grasp of concepts like “responsibility” or “giving people space.” A good and goofy kid, with some nice tasty abandonment issues probably thrown into the mix there somewhere. He doesn’t wanna be alone again.

John Lalonde very likely has a very bad grasp of what consequences are. If he breaks shit, they can just buy a new one, if he pranks someone a little too mean or says something that goes a little too far, his mom is easy to forgive him. My dear sweet ADHD child probably didn’t do too good in school and did a lot of class clowning tomfoolery but Mom Lalonde didn’t discipline him for it at home so threats of “I will call your mother if you don’t settle down” didn’t have much of an effect on him. He’s a good kid! Friendly and loving and affectionate, but if he fucks up he doesn’t take responsibility for it and pulls the “it was just a joke!” card way too frequently and doesn’t know how to actually apologize or fix his mistakes. But even though he’s very outwardly childish, he’s also surprisingly mature for his age, by way of like, opinions and stuff? Like he’ll say stuff and it’ll seem totally left field for him cause John you’re like, the funny dude of our group, but he’s also the one who knows how to disinfect wounds and the RIDICULOUS importance of making sure your older sibling knows who their DD is when they’re off drinking with their friends and while he doesn’t have an emotional reaction to traumatic events right off the bat (like in canon) he does do a VERY good job of responding pragmatically to them, and that’s kind of a result of yeah, his mom’s his buddy, and yeah, she lets him get away with anything, but no, John doesn’t really get the chance to be a kid ALL the time, and in part he acts out like this because he’s frustrated that he CAN’T fully be a kid, so he’s overcompensating. His role as the Heir of Light would be as somebody who embodies luck and intellect, which he doesn’t really feel like he can do. He’s not smart, right? He’s never done well in school. But he has really high emotional intelligence, and he’s got street smarts no 13 year old has any business having, and he eventually comes to realize that he is lucky. He’s very lucky. He’s got good friends who love him and who he loves, a strong team who can conquer the world, the universe, even a demon with the strength of a green sun, and when John comes to appreciate consequences and ramifications of their actions, he would be better able to understand how to use his powers to become the luckiest little shit in the universe, and could look death in the face with confidence because he understands, now, he’s realized some things, some the easy way and some lessons were painfully hard, but he’s confident in what he’s doing and he’s got his friends at his back.

Jade Strider, I hate to say it, but I think she would end up a very meek individual. Very, very hypervigilant, aware of everyone’s mood around her and this HUGE people pleaser, because as far as she’s concerned “not actively pleased” might as well be utterly synonymous to “actively displeased.” Life is uncertain to her, she’s very diligent about reading the moods of others and making them happy. Everyone loves her and think she’s just absolutely the best, she’s always ready to listen, always eager to cheer her friends up when they’re feeling down, doesn’t say jack SHIT about herself. If people ask she straight up lies. She does NOT talk about her own problems, even worse than in canon. She is happy go lucky and pleasant to be around, see? She’s doing great. Don’t worry about her! Oh do you need to talk about something? She’s got hair-trigger reflexes and does NOT react well to sudden loud noises or jumpscares. She’s very forgiving, because it’s only natural that sometimes her friends will hurt her feelings, right? That’s what love looks like. Some things just can’t be prevented, so why bother. Lotta learned helplessness kinda shit going down. Very reactive to positive feedback and physical affection (as long as she sees it coming) but has no idea how to go about asking for it. She’s very popular at her school for being pretty and cool and badass and friendly all tied up into one but her friendships are very shallow with her school friends, because if she cannot open up about herself, what room is there for emotional intimacy? As a Witch of Time, her main thing that needs to happen is she needs to get fed up. She needs to get pissed off. She doesn’t deserve this shit! She’s thirteen! She doesn’t deserve a parent who didn’t love her, she doesn’t deserve to have the weight of the timeline on her shoulders, she doesn’t deserve to see her own corpse over and over and fucking OVER again! This isn’t fair, this isn’t right, she doesn’t FUCKING want this, fuck her Bro fuck the Game fuck keeping quiet she’s a KID and she’s HURTING and she will be fucking UPSET about it! And then she’s gotta let John, and Rose, and Dave hold her and tell her she’s right, she’s so right, she is absolutely entitled to her anger, she’s allowed to feel angry about this, she’s gonna be okay though, they’re there, they love her and they’re not gonna let anyone hurt her ever again, she’s allowed to feel hellfire down deep to her bones but then, most importantly, she needs to let her friends help her, she needs to trust them, and learn how trusting works, learn what love looks like and how all her little broken pieces fit back together. And no, she’s never gonna fully recover from that. She knows she’s gonna be a compulsive liar down to her dying day and she’s never going to be able to trust openly like some people do, but she’s got people who love her and who she loves dearly, and she’s going to be okay, and every day it gets a little easier. Some days are bad, yeah, some days she’s angry over stuff she thought she got over years ago, but at the end of the Game, after all has been ripped asunder and they’ve moved into their new lives on Earth C, she is allowed to recover and to rest and sure it’s not always easy, but she’s always trying, and things are better now.

[chronicbatfictioner]

Theater of the Soul - Chapter 6

They'd spoken in tongues around him, he'd heard. None of them knew that he understood them.

"<You crazy enough to take the boy away from him, you bastard, then you should be crazy enough to eliminate him!>"

He hadn't recognized the voice. But the language was Hispanic - a learned language, not a street- or birth-earned language. He'd suspected a white, upper-class somebody being there other than... than the horror that is the clown. He had not heard the reply, only that it was followed by a lot of loud noises. Ugly, loud noises. The last time he had heard those kind of noises, cops were later seen leaving the apartment next to his after taping the door with bright yellow ribbons.

And then he was leaving. He'd had no idea where to, or how. Just that he was leaving. Leaving all the noises behind. 

And there was a lot of blood in his line of sight. Only he wasn't sure if it was his line of sight or his own eyes. Maybe it had been him bleeding. Maybe he'd caused the bleeding, he couldn't be sure. He knew there were others - warm, soft bodies.

And then everything was cold and chilly again. There was so much pain, too. And he'd kept moving. Somehow, his brain had told him to keep moving, ignore the pain and just keep moving. That keep moving would be his best bet to survive.

Barbara's friends were... scary ladies, if anyone would ask Tim. Fortunately, no one would ask. And they looked... well, Dinah Lance and Helena Bertinelli looked like they'd just walked out of 'The Gladiator' movie set - almost complete with Roman gladiator garb. They were both tall, and even if Tim's brain said that Barbara would've been just as tall if not for her wheelchair, the two ladies still looked imposing to him.

The three of them, Tim thought, looked very colorful - with Barbara's flaming red hair and fair skin, Dinah Lance's platinum blonde hair and peachy-tan skin, and Helena Bertinelli's jet black hair and dark chocolate skin.

And yes, he did not hide his surprise well when Helena said that she was a primary school teacher. "Does that mean I'll have to call you Miss Bertinelli?" he asked, only half joking because he did feel like he was still in Primary School.

Helena was glaring at him, and Tim hoped that she would at least be amused.

"You're... what? Ninth grader?" she asked.

Tim frowned. "I've graduated high school last year." he scowled. Yes, he was small even for 15. But he still has time to get some much-needed growth spurts, surely. Like one or two - or a dozen.

She looked surprised. "Well! A genius, Barbara? Who'da thunk it." she smirked.

"I would. His grandpa was Jeremiah Galavan." Barbara said, almost smugly. "The guy who almost singlehandedly built the wastewater treatment plant in Gotham. Even when everyone was laughing at him. I'm not surprised that Tim has his brain."

"Here I am thinking that Bruce would only take people with high theatrical aptitude." Dinah Lance said.

"My parents were stage actors." Tim told her. "That's how I know Bruce. They... left me in his custody when they died."

"That's nice of them..." Helena quipped. "So close in the heels of..." then she paused.

"He didn't take me in to replace Jason!" Tim snarled. "I was officially adopted before Jason left!"

"He never take anyone to replace anybody," Dinah said, practically calming him. "Bruce takes orphaned children because of his own deep need to make sure you won't be lost in the system. Like some of his..." she paused and meet his gaze, "... earlier acquaintances." she finished. Tim suddenly got the thought that by 'acquaintances', she had meant herself.

"Matter at hand, ladies." Barbara reminded them.

"I'll go with the little genius bird." Helena stated, her voice sounded challenging.

Tim just sighed. He was not in the mood for arguing. It was already past 10.30 and he felt that they would be kind of wasting time if they were to argue on who rides with who. "Whatever." he said. "Can we go now? The addresses were arranged by location, anyway, and we've got some solid 33 thousand square miles to cover." he cringed inwardly, suddenly thinking just how small Gotham City suddenly felt.

"Relax, kiddo. We'll find him." Dinah patted his shoulder gently. "Bruce should've..." and she pressed her lips, willing herself not to say anything more.

"I don't disagree, Bruce should've asked for help back then. But that door is closed already. Now we move on." Barbara didn't snap, but her tone implied so. "We will find Jason. Even if it means knocking every damn door in the whole county of Los Angeles."

"Babs and I can start at the north side, from here onward to Antelope Valley areas." Dinah said. "You take the beaches?"

"Will do." Helena said.

"It's not like my wheelchair would be bothered with the beaches, you know." Barbara cocked her eyebrow at them. Her wheelchair was specially made - lacking the back handles because she didn't like to be pushed by anyone else; and has reinforced all-terrain wheels.

"Nothing to do with your wheelchair, hun. Southward are usually populated with family ones. While northward are veterans and otherwise." Dinah replied calmly. "They see your wheelchair and they'll be more inclined to talk than otherwise."

"Psychological query." Tim acknowledged.

"Yes, little bird, you got that right." Dinah gave him a finger-gun salute. Tim almost grinned.

Their plan for today was to prowl the homeless areas, as well as stopping by at Napier-owned buildings or whatever property he has. Tim was a little proud that Barbara did not shot down his suspicion that the reason Bruce hadn't been able to find Jason right off the bat would have been because Napier had somehow hidden Jason somewhere. He was not at any hospitals back then, and the only record of him showed that he was checked out of LA General Hospital a week after he was admitted. Bruce had even pulled all the stops by asking a load of favors from his friends to ask if any of the private rehab centers and/or hospitals would have had Jason there - to no avail.

Hence, really, Tim's suspicion that Napier was not what he appeared to be. Not 'merely' a stage critic, but was hiding something else. When the Harley Quinn club opened a mere few months after Jason went missing - based on the date of the accident and his last known whereabout as he was signed out of the hospital, Tim's suspicion was vindicated.

And his suspicion lead him to poke around the internet and unternet - the dark side of the web - to find out who the hell this Napier guy really is. Said poking around also provided him with a list of assets belonging to Napier, mostly in Los Angeles County area - much to his relief; a small number in Gotham. Dick would poke around at the Gotham ones - excluding Quinn's club - with Barbara's father, James Gordon, in the guise of finding a place for himself. James Gordon, the city's Mayor, would be a good smokescreen - no pun intended for his smoking habit, really - to hide their true purpose.

Tim has to begrudgingly admitted - albeit inwardly - that explaining the general gist of things to Helena was easier now that he has had time to mull it over and brainstorm it with Barbara. They have barely gotten a block away from the Penthouse when Tim's presentation of his theory finished.

"So how is it a brainiac kid like you get roped to the ever-glamorous world of showbiz?" Helena asked. "Yeah, I get it that your folks were in it. But you could've gotten yourself a scholarship somewhere, MIT? Ivy? I mean, why stay?"

Tim fiddled with the camera on his lap. The camera would be their cover story - building Helena's portfolio at interesting locations, or having her pretend to be a reporter if all else fails. "Why should I?" he asked.

"Why should you what?"

"Why should I go for technical stuff just because I'm a genius?" he pressed. "Why can't I be in arts, just because I can work out how a supercomputer works, or how a robot can move and walk and talk at the same time? Why can't I be a painter, or singer, or photographer?"

There was a few good seconds' worth of silence following Tim's questions, and he knew he'd stumped Helena.

"You're right. I actually never thought of it that way." she finally admitted. "Most of the kids in my school are average. There are a few with above-average intelligence, and they all tend to lean toward sciences."

"They do that because through science - things that has absolute, numerical and alphabetical quantifier - because they can prove their intellects through it. How about languages? Did you know that the English language - while the second most spoken language in the world, has significantly less amount of words? As in, it has only one word that defined art: 'work'. Bengali language has five, Russian has four, Arabic has five. That, to me, is interesting. Would you like to know how I found that out?" Tim asked, almost coyly.

"Okay, I'll bite. How did you find that out?"

"Jason Todd told me. People tend to think him stupid, just because he was a street urchin and didn't get to be schooled to show his academic skills. But he speaks five languages fluently. All of which he'd learned on his own by reading the books at the library. Is he not a genius, then?"

"Ah," she nodded. "I get it. There are many types of genius, and the more visible ones are those with science-based aptitude."

"Yes, that should answer your question on why I'm not interested with scholarships. I don't need them to do what I love. And what I love is--" Tim suddenly clamped his mouth shut, realizing his true motive in doing this. It has nothing to do with what he loved to do - taking photographs, sharing the printed evidence of things he could easily pull out from his memories with vivid details. Not because he'd wanted to 'save' Jason. Not because he didn't want to see Bruce upset and stressed.

He wanted to do this so that he could earn his place within the Wayne family. He wanted to prove that Bruce taking him was not a mistake. So that Jason would stop being mad at him. So that Jason would come home.

Before Helena could finish her questioning, thankfully, they were approaching their first target location,

[casscutting]

Tag Tuesday: 50 Random Facts About Me!

I wanted a fun way for you all to get to know me better so I came across several tags that I plan on doing over the next few weeks. I meant to have this up yesterday but things happen and time got away from me. So let’s kick this off with the 50 Random Facts About Me Tag!

I am 30 years old (about to be 31 on the 8th of December)

I have lived in Florida my whole life.

I HATE the heat with a passion mightier than a thousand suns.

I am a transgender woman.

The name Cass Cutting is a Pen Name.

I choose a Pen Name not to hide my identity but to simplify things with the publishing process because the process to change one’s name for gender identity reasons in the state of Florida is an expensive pain in the ass that can be made so much harder by the wrong judge.

I am a HUGE animal lover.

I am highly allergic to cats which only happened from the age of 23 onwards.

I personally own 2 dogs one RidgeBack Greyhound mix named Phoenix she is 11 and a 3-year-old mutt named Raven who I rescued from the pound. We assume that she is a mix of Pit, Lab, Jackrussle and maybe some more but those are the ones we can assume from looking at her.

I proudly call myself a mutt because I am lol I am Spanish, Cuban, Venezuelan, Native American, English, Irish, Scottish, Welsh, and French that we know of.

I call my family the one bloodline United Nations because in addition to the above mentioned I also have family members who are of African, Japanese, Italian, Puerto Rican, and Mexican descent.

I knew I wanted to be an author from the time I learned that people actually wrote books, which was about the 4th grade.

I hate the term “Aspiring Writer” if you write you are a writer the term is “Aspiring Author” or “Aspiring Journalist” or something along those lines.

In the middle of my final year of 8th grade, we had to go meet with the counselors at the high school as an introduction thing. I was told that my life would amount to nothing and that it would take me 8 years to graduate from high school with a special diploma. That I would then have to go for my GED if I were lucky enough to get into the program then if by some stroke of luck I were able to pass the course I would never get into college and the only job I’d be able to get would be to sweep the sun off the sidewalks. needless to say, that counselor had his license revoked by the state of Florida and had a letter attached to his “file” stating he was unfit to work with children ever again.

I graduated on time with a “Normal Diploma” I wasn’t top of my class but I was 119 out 378 students.

I did go to college, however, I did not finish. Not because I was unable to keep up with the workload but because my father had was hit in his knee with a concrete pipe that broke loose from it chains as it was being lifted onto a truck. So I left school to help my family.

I suffer from depression (partly because of number 14)

I was a nationally ranked among the top high school Trombone players.

I was only playing for one year when I got that ranking.

I am a Graphic Artest (would be Graphic Designer if I had finished my course)

I am obsessed with Pin-up girls and Burlesque dancers.

I suffer from daily chronic migraines.

I was born with severe ear problems.

I had 13 surgeries on my ears alone from the age of 18 months to 16 years old.

I was told that there is a strong possibility that I could be completely deaf by the age of 50 because of the scar tissue build-up from the surgeries and the many infections I’ve had over my life.

I think that’s one of the reasons I love books so much because you don’t need to hear to enjoy them.

I have never been outside of the US though I would love to travel.

I have had the desire to move to Europe my whole life.

I am originally from Key West as is most of my family for many generations.

My grandfather on my fathers’ side arrested Ernest Hemmingway for being drunk and fighting a homeless man in the graveyard in Key West over who was going to get to drink from the hand-pumped well.

There were no available police vehicles at the time so he threw them both in the back of a garbage truck and road on the back to the precinct.

I’ve read 5 Hemmingway books and didn’t like any of them.

My grandmother on my mothers’ side gave up being a Prima Ballerina to have a family.

I don’t know that I could have done that.

My Great Grandfather on my mothers’ side played in a band with Desi Arnaz before he was famous.

I learned to type on Typewriters.

I have 2 working Vintage Typewriters a Royal from 1931 and a Royal from 1940.

I hate the fact that people think I’m a “hipster” because I like my Typewriters and like to dress in 1940’s style from time to time and like burlesque and pinup culture.

I read Harry Potter so many times that am having to replace my original copies because they are falling apart.

I have never read Twilight and only saw two movies because my ex-boyfriend wanted too. Why? BECAUSE VAMPIRES DONT FUCKING SPARKLE lol.

I would love to one day buy a bunch of land and go around to kill shelters and adopted all the dogs until I could re-home them.

I am 6’1″ (all the woman on my dad’s side are between 6’0″ and 6’7″)

I am terrified of heights (even step ladders)

I saw both It and 20 mins of Arachnophobia when I was 8-years old. I am scared shitless of spiders but not clowns.

Halloween is my favorite holiday followed closely by Christmas and Thanksgiving.

I am currently learning Swedish

I have plans to learn French, German, Latin, and Icelandic.

I would love to buy, restore and live in an old castle.

I think zombies could be a possibility one day

I have studied Buddhism, Hinduism, as well as ancient Norse, Greek, Romain, Celtic, Egyptian, and several Native American cultural religions. Though at this time I consider myself to be Agnostic.

So there you go, you know a little about me 😀

[clubofinfo]

Expert: One of the people who did 9/11 once yelled at me, quite angrily. I wish I could remember why. I can’t. Nothing remains of his chastisement but Trombone Shorty’s plunger mute, waa wwa, mwaa waa mwa. The occasion was some briefing or other. Searching my soul with Augustinian scrupulosity, I cannot rule out that something in my bearing or demeanor might have inadvertently signaled that I didn’t take him seriously. I didn’t have to take him seriously, in the scheme of things, he had the military cookie-cutter stamp, OCD and not too bright, all at sea when hierarchy fails him. He wasn’t my client so I didn’t need to kiss his butt. Perhaps some inappropriate joke failed to go over his head. Somehow, at any rate, I annoyed one of the most infamous criminals in history, and lived! That’s like short-sheeting Hitler, or giving Pinochet an impish purple nurple. Because in retrospect, he took thousands of American lives as a pretext for wars of aggression that killed a million more. Myers knew about the white jet, the one they saw in Shanksville, the jet CIA sent to do his job for him, the job he trained his whole career to do but fucked up in the most important hour of his life. He didn’t call the other one off, Cheney did, but Myers didn’t seem to mind some doughy draft dodger taking over his job and doing it wrong. Myers took all that failure and disgrace in stride. No seppuku for him, he’s a warrior – he sees to things in his department. It’s too much to expect that he might look into why he bobbled the hijack alerts from FAA, nose around and ask Mitre what they were doing squiring dastardly Saudi terrorists around critical government agencies, showing them how to blind the Air Force while CIA watched their every move. But then, failing to mind my own business is my besetting sin. I made a Mitre functionary quite irate with a different impertinent question. They had installed her on the 9/11 Commission, to give us closure. And I was only asking about those ludicrous dogfights with big fat civilian planes. Imagine if I’d ribbed her about Ptech! Now in his dotage General Myers sits slack-lipped on corporate boards, and at some school, Faber College, I think, maundering at other people and they don’t take him seriously either. They give him cookies, cookies with, one imagines, jelly centers, like in other old soldiers’ homes. He’s harmless again. General Myers, a synecdoche of the USA: an infamous criminal lightly disguised as a bumbling idiot acclaimed as a hero. He failed his way to success. Now he’s a spent force. Just because they exterminated millions, that’s no reason to take them seriously. They’re clowns. We simply don’t see it, downtrodden and brainwashed as we are, not until they come up against someone minimally competent. The СБРФ, Russia’s Security Council, is cheerfully grinding CIA to powder in Syria. They interdict and expose US sneak attacks in strict accord with law, enforcing long-neglected UN Charter Article 47(3) at gunpoint. They leapfrogged the Pentagon with stand-off weapons to continuously counter escalation. They’re now the world’s most influential advocate for rule of law. Russia complies with the Paris Principles, the world standard for institutionalized human rights under expert international oversight; the USA does not. China’s Politburo Standing Committee outwits CIA at every turn, effortlessly appropriating US state secrets and winning over US allies with better deals. Just look at their essential principles of unrestricted warfare – necessary, minimal, restricted, limited, particularly non-military – it looks suspiciously like peace. Imagine poor Myers trying to cope with that. In its peculiarly non-military fashion, in treaty bodies and charter bodies China fights to get you the economic and social rights your government says you can’t have. China’s Five Principles of Peaceful Coexistence are a straightforward précis of the UN Charter. Just one of the five principles mentions China’s national interest. It’s downright alien to those of us accustomed to the USA’s neurotic fixation on vague threats from every nook and cranny of the earth. What does China want? China wants equality and mutual benefit. Iran’s Sepāh, the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, won the war in Iraq by watching us lose. While mediating for regional states and popular mobilization forces, Sepāh has held the US to feckless bluster with a canny grappling strategy, sprawling and grapevining to impede US moves until lawfare can be brought to bear. Iran’s world-class jurists compile a lengthening catalog of grave US crimes and wrongs for the World Court to judge. Iran, founding member of the G-77 comprising 80 per cent of the world, past president in the crisis years of unchecked US aggression, diplomats primus inter pares who shepherded the Tehran Consensus into being; Iran, nuclear/chemical disarmament envoy of the Non-Aligned Movement for peaceful coexistence, half the world’s people and two-thirds of its countries. Step into court and full-spectrum-dominate that. Worse yet, long-time US puppets now say no. Germany and Austria joined the free world in repudiating US economic coercion that breaches UN Charter Articles 41 and 421. The European Union and the IMF refuse to join the US in reneging on its nonproliferation agreement with Iran. Iraq ejected its US occupiers by the simple expedient of denying them impunity. The head of state of the Philippines burnishes his overwhelming popularity and public trust by mocking US officials’ sanity, paternity, character, and sexual practices. That shocks the US government, which has been warring on or waterboarding its Malay colony into submission for more than a century. That’s your USA: Monty Python’s Black Knight, dismembered but undaunted. By some masterstroke of KUBARK mind-control, Americans don’t get the joke. Everyone is laughing at their laughingstock regime but them. We Americans are indoctrinated with pompous monkey see, monkey do. The state puts models before us: tweedy Ivy-League mediocrities solemnly blithering about The Presidential Character or the stultifying ceremony of installing public figureheads. We retain a few of their slogans, but more importantly, we learn to make the faces. The judicious face. The face of regret. The grave resolute face you make when they tell you it’s time to blow up more wogs. Want to be a leftist? Then you make the lugubrious hangdog face Chris Hedges taught you. Back when he worked for the New York Times, Hedges taught us the pop-eyed “Oh no, Saddam’s sending terrorists to get us!”2 face. But what about the face for Russia ripping Turkey out of NATO? That’s the 4chan Lenny smirk face. Where’s the face for Russia lawfully snatching away the best parts of Ukraine, leaving scheming NATO stooges with the Chernobyl exclusion zone and a mob of flat-broke Nazis? (You know, this one, :-D) And what about the face for Iran hijacking the US RQ-170 stealth drone, reverse-engineering and improving it? Or for catching CIA at illegal warfare, deftly taking all their cyber-weapons and giving free samples and countermeasures to the world in paralyzing water-torture dribs and drabs, spouting obscene broken-English gibes and insults all the while? Surely you must recognize that one. Go ahead, think about it, you’ll make the face. They call it lol. It’s not as though you’re being disrespectful. Your ruling junta had a good run. Now it’s over. America’s indifferent ‘rivals’ casually make fools of CIA. If you didn’t notice, that’s because you read the news, or did your high school homework too intently. Here is what actually happened. The Dulles administration extended from 1949 to roughly 1966 (like popes, CIA potentates subside gradually into incontinent senility.) Dulles established clandestine crime as US policy. He took control of government with secret moles and gave CIA impunity with sub rosa legal pretexts. He purged elements supporting rights or rule of law, and recruited vanquished Nazis to set up a US Gestapo. He consolidated the wartime press into state-controlled organs of public information termed “the mighty wurlitzer.” He crippled and corrupted the UN Secretariat and killed the one stray Secretary-General who wasn’t a tool. After he got deposed, Dulles’ CIA killed an insubordinate head of state, JFK, and put FBI to work covering up CIA crime, the prime directive it retains today. The next administration was the Safari Club. The CIA regime diffused its leadership to the point that some acting directors were foreign nationals. The Safari Club was not an interregnum but an organizational expedient dictated by international resistance to crimes of the CIA regime. The UN member nations denounced US torture and aggression under explicit warning of general nuclear war. This emboldened the old constitutional institutions to mount challenges of their own. The Senate and the House probed CIA. In five months at CIA James Schlesinger extracted the family jewels, a bill of indictment of ultra vires crimes, and purged a thousand agents, dwarfing the subsequent Friday Night Massacres of Stansfield Turner and R. James Woolsey. Jim Schlesinger. Now there was a man to take seriously. He got the point of a briefing, a point I was prevented from making out loud, by reading the mathematical entrails of a massive Soviet-style central planning simulation at a glance. Schlesinger got himself fired in 1975 for declining to wage war on Cambodia. Under siege by the world’s best and brightest, CIA retreated and regrouped. Adnan Kashoggi and his CIA factotums3 ran a hunting lodge and tasteful whorehouse in Nanyuki Town in Kenya. There CIA plotted with spooks from its satellite states and handed off the worst of their clandestine crime. CIA also colluded with foreign counterparts in other clubby venues like the Pinay Circle. This enabled a ruse: we’re not concealing crimes, we’re keeping the confidences of our allies. The blatant porky worked, when everybody went along, and gave CIA room for maneuver. CIA sacrificed Nixon as a scapegoat and wrote the Pentagon Papers to frame the Pentagon for CIA’s Vietnam War. They led the Church Committee in harmless circles. CIA defanged the more threatening Pike Committee: they inserted a ritual incantation (CIA works for the president!) and stuffed everything else down the memory hole. Then CIA put Congress in its place with the melodramatic bribery-cum-treason snares of the ABSCAM investigation. They deployed the mighty wurlitzer to neutralize avowed human-rights president Jimmy Carter and his straight-arrow DCI Turner. CIA directed their secret agents in Congress, State, and Justice to vitiate binding US commitments to demobilize, disarm, and stop its torture, murder, armed attack, racial discrimination, weapons proliferation, and coercive foreign interference. The Bush administration took power in 19804 and continued until circa 2001. Bush shifted the focus of foreign interference from Latin America to the Middle East. He fought the world consensus on economic and social rights, wrecking countries that governed in accordance with those rights. Bush squelched a feeble Congressional investigation with multiple preemptive pardons. To dispel “the Vietnam syndrome,” Americans’ revulsion against war, Bush entrapped his Iraqi client state with petty resource disputes as a pretext for US invasion. Capitalizing on the unforeseen collapse of the USSR, Bush militarized the UN Security Council, dispatching armed peacekeepers everywhere on any excuse. He manipulated regional rivalries and the UN Secretariat to thwart reform of the P-5 nations’ veto impunity. Bush père skydives to prove his mettle, plummeting to earth in the arms of a SEAL much as Mao would drift inertly down the Yangtze River in his dotage. But the Gates administration is in power. Bush protégé Gates rose to power in a process recalling late-Roman dynastic succession of adoptive sons, with Bush’s bloodline heir as presidential figurehead. While maintaining his predecessors’ rackets, Gates used 9/11 as a pretext to implement longstanding plans for counterinsurgency warfare at home and aggression abroad. He boosted Afghan opium production by a factor of 40, culling Americans by shortening their lifespan, and made the subject population pay for the greatest financial crime in history. Gates obstructed international efforts to end impunity and regulate the arms trade. He adapted to the debility and corruption of the commercial arms industry by relying on foreign armed irregulars for covert aggression. Gates’ critical test lies before him: after a quarter century of CIA cadres installed to front for the regime (Bush, Clinton, Bush, and Obama) a president under insecure control has taken office at a juncture when CIA again faces multiple threats to its impunity: – Legally mandated release of all unshredded NARA records bearing on CIA’s 1963 coup d’état; – International legal pursuit (in inter alia Italy, Spain, Poland, and Canada, with international civil society including CCR and CJR) of systematic and widespread CIA torture and disappearance amounting to crimes against humanity; – Concerted civil-society legal challenges to CIA’s gravest crimes including Saleh v. Bush, Abdul Wahed Shannan Al Rabbat v. Blair, and prospective JASTA suits. When quashed in CIA-controlled national courts, these cases support ICC admissibility of crimes the state is unwilling or unable to prosecute; – Nonproliferation treaty bodies openly denouncing US proliferation effected by CIA assets such as Marc Grossman, Will Cathcart, and Robert Garry, in the 2015 NWC Review Conference and in ministerial-level Russian statements exposing US efforts to thwart the object and purpose of the BWC.5 – Dawning public awareness of CIA attacks on the domestic civilian population as pretexts for intensified repression. That’s what all this “fake news” censorship is for: CIA wants its exposure and denunciation to go unnoticed here at home. The related saber-rattling and war hysteria also takes people’s minds off CIA crime. The synthetic desperation of it promotes the CIA line that rule of law is fighting with one hand tied behind your back. See? Postwar US history is simple. Just keep your eye on CIA. Though the government fixes your attention on the danger of the suicidal nuke war it continually threatens, the real threat to the regime has always been international consensus. Throughout each new CIA junta the international community methodically constructs a binding legal regime. You can read a hundred US histories and never see a word about it. The world codified America’s Nuremberg Principles to curb criminal commanders and, with the Rome Statute, set up a court free from national interests to try them. The world codified the UN Charter’s mandate of pacific dispute resolution with state responsibility principles. The world set out your rights in law, consolidating them under the two overarching aims of the UN member nations: your right to peace and your right to development. The old second world, renewed and esteemed, enforces law that issued largely from the Non-Aligned Movement and the G-77.6 Contemporary history is largely the story of CIA’s pitched, doomed struggle against rights and rule of law. Held to these standards, the US government is exposed as a shabby throwback. Uncle Sam is dead – in the likes of Gates and Myers we’ve reverted to an old familiar mascot of another washed-up empire, Don Quixote, scrawny, skint, and delusional. Let Thomas Harrington describe the poor thing’s dream world: The cheesiest and most hackneyed evocations of national grandeur. Page 1: a quote from the Star-Spangled Banner in a lithograph-like image of The War of 1812. Page 2: Lincoln’s famous quote about ‘government of the people, by the people and for the people.’ Pages 3-4: a multicolor image of an eagle and a flag… And on and on for 24 more pages with graphic backdrops such as Mt. Rushmore, the Liberty Bell, and yes, buffaloes roaming across the open plains. That’s the passport they make you carry. The kindly border guards of the outside world try hard not to roll their eyes at it. Remember, Don Quixote has a happy ending: in innumerable slapstick melees strapping peasants beat some sense into the old scarecrow before he dies. That’s what’s happening to CIA right now. Join the fun, world, get your licks in while you can. He’s on his last legs. * As articulated for the world by the Special Rapporteur on Coercive Measures. * “Defectors Cite Iraqi Training for Terrorism,” The New York Times, November 8, 2001. * Miles Copeland and Ed Moss of Booz, Allen and the mob, respectively. * CIA’s formal instauration was scheduled for March 31, 1981, in OPERATION NINE LIVES, but it was bungled and had to be deferred. * Illegal US biowarfare is under investigation by civil society and by treaty parties. * Russian FM Lavrov is speaking to a global audience. http://clubof.info/

[bendablerubber]

Living Alone and Loving It: 10 Tips to assist you Grow Into the one who Will Fill Your Empty Nest

My bedroom was always my emotional ‘haven of rest’. I locked myself behind those four walls much like Anne Frank hid from the Nazis. It was that place where I could exercise my cynicism, my anger, my hopefulness, and my dreaming. My walls were plastered with McCartney, McCartney, and….ugh…did I mention McCartney? If some of you do perhaps not know who McCartney is you shouldn’t be reading this.

I also took time within my haven to brush my waist-length locks 100 strokes per night. I painted nails and toenails and blew cigarette smoke out my bedroom windows. Like as if my moms and dads didn’t know. I spent a lot of time wanting to figure them out, too. I'd time to sing along to every rock band, holding a hairbrush as my microphone as tens of thousands of people (in my head, of course) applauded furiously at my vocal abilities.

I had time!

Then, I grew up. Type of. But, in my desperate attempt as a female Peter Pan, i acquired married, had children, paid mortgages, packed lunches, ironed pretty, little dresses, buffed little, patent leather shoes, learned how to French-braid locks, discovered exactly how to English-braid hair (there really IS an improvement), attended school programs, composed love records regarding the hearts of my daughters, got divorced, signed homework, helped memorize vocabulary words, helped to collect and label leaves for a school project, helped to make an Indian village for a school project, helped to draw and identify parts of the human lung for a school project, stayed awake nights when they suffered from high fevers and missed work the following day so I could nurse them back to health, stayed awake nights whenever I didn’t know where the heck they were whilst still being went to work the next day so we could all eat, planned and paid for birthday gift suggestions, graduations, bridal showers, weddings, infant showers, and Christmas presents in between it all.

I had almost no time for me. And, I knew it.

So, when I found myself alone the very first time in almost 25 years I was desperate to find the “Peter Pan” in me again. Now, i'd like to address something now that some of maybe you are thinking so we could clear the air right up front. You may be thinking that I am an extremely selfish person because only selfish people crave “alone time”. Maybe you’re thinking that I never should experienced gotten married or had kiddies if I desired so desperately to evolve as an individual and that through the mothering years found it difficult at times to keep “me” richly alive and whole. Possibly some of you are even bold enough to think that I didn’t truly have the capacity to love my kiddies the way a mother is supposed to love them.

Maybe I’m thinking that those of you who actually ‘think’ these things are perhaps not brave enough to be honest with others and, more importantly, with yourselves. Every moms and dad who has ever truly done his or her job as a mom or dad has definitely felt lost in the method. It’s only natural. Parenting is tough. It’s a full-time job, often interwoven with a full-time job. It’s gut-wrenching. It’s 24/7 for at least 25 years per child. It can be the most treasured blessing God could give us. Parenting in and of itself is a mirror that forces us to look at ourselves without the blinders for the first time inside our everyday lives. And --- if we refuse to take that hard look at ourselves --- I can guarantee you that our kiddies will bring our sorry selves to our attention! And, we don’t even need to ask them because of their help. They volunteer it --- and, usually, with an attitude!

Praise God for our children! We would never have become who we are without them inside our lives.

But, what you thought was going to endure forever is now gone. The children are gone. They’ve moved away. Now, they have children of their own. Miraculously, they have been finding out why the heck you were so tired and worried all those years. Now, they’ve abruptly figured down that hats are a significant wardrobe piece during the months of December through February. All of a sudden, your children want to rest. But, now they can’t.

But, YOU can! So, let’s talk.

There is nothing wrong whenever parents struggle between being a good moms and dad and coveting time alone to continue self-development. Our company is supposed to be role models for our children; perhaps not just circus clowns, Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and an ATM machine. Just how will they ever evolve themselves if we don’t suggest to them what ‘evolving’ looks like. We need to pick up the baton we left behind 25 years ago and re-create ourselves again and again again so we can show our kids what we learned through it all. We need to show our grandchildren that life’s vibrancy doesn’t stop just because the ‘kids are gone’. Life’s vibrancy continues as we embrace those grandchildren --- and, if God offers us the time on earth --- those great-grandchildren!

But, just in case you’re feeling as if all your life’s purpose has moved out and moved on --- let’s think about exactly how you'll keep it going --- and, actually, end up having MORE to offer those precious souls that are no longer in your day-to-day care.

Tip no. 1: Revisit the pastime you quit as a result of time constraints as a parent

Maybe you used to sing in a band or go to concerts or plays. Maybe you used to be a member of an acting troupe or dabble in local theater performances. You may be one of those gifted people who work in stained glass or who is able to paint or draw. I don’t specially care if you paint by numbers. Just paint (!) for crying out noisy --- if that’s what you enjoyed doing before the youngsters arrived along. Are you experiencing a green thumb? Then, plant a garden. Are you crafty? Then, make your Christmas presents throughout the year. If you’re good with wood…apply the principle in the previous sentence. If you always enjoyed writing --- whether it is poetry or prose --- pick up a pen or introduce a WORD doc and obtain it going again. Who knows? You might become the next New York Times best writer!

Tip #2: be in form

Maybe you used to go to the gym or play tennis or golf. Were you an avid walker or hiker? Did you love yoga or dance? There may were an occasion when you were able to blame the children or a spouse for your lack of discipline and/or spare time. But, you have plenty of time now. (You’ll have to muster up the discipline…more on that later.)

Have a look at special discounted memberships at your local barrage of gyms. Some gyms run specials throughout every season; but, most run specials right following the Holidays and prior to summer. You don’t have to become the next Mr. or Ms. Universe. Just get healthier. Get more toned. In the event that machines aren’t your bag, enroll in one of the aerobics or yoga classes. “Zumba” is a relatively new Latino dance exercise that can be learned on many quantities of expertise from novices to advanced levels. It’s a fantastic workout and loads of fun…especially for the enthusiasts of Latin music!

Check down your local dance studios and sign up for a dance class two evenings per week. There are all kinds of dance lessons on the market --- just in case ballroom dancing isn’t your speed. You can learn the Salsa, the Meringue, Country Line Dancing, East Coast Shuffle, and West Coast Shuffle. The list goes on. You don’t constantly need a partner, as some group classes accommodate individual students without partners. There is always the opportunity to spend a bit more cash and train with the dance instructor one-on-one. That’s always fun!

In most towns the YMCA provides plenty of fitness choices from exercise equipment, aerobics, Tai Chi, and Yoga classes to baseball courts, indoor tracks, and indoor private pools and saunas. There is a product out there --- the “Swimman Waterproof IPod Shuffle”. You is now able to do laps to music and one of my social networking friends --- an avid swimmer --- swears by it!

Never ever underestimate the joy of your own house as a ‘work-out center’! So long as you have a floor and you will get OFF THE COUCH you can work-out to various walking DVDs and other aerobic and toning DVDs. Immediately, you’ll have a team of like-minded, fitness partners right there on your television! You can go at yours pace and change routines if you invest a little money so as to provide yourself some variation. Also, for a good investment of around $100, you'll purchase a stationary bike or mini trampoline second-hand from a classified ad, plop it appropriate in front of your television and pedal or jog the pounds off while watching your favorite television show. I, personally, find pedaling or running to music much for fun. Especially, if the music is fast-paced with a great, constant beat that makes you desire to move. Of course, dancing for 25 to 45 minutes to your favorite CD can be a great way to shed the pounds.

clash of clans hack All the recommendations here can show to be highly effective if you commit to doing them for 25 to 45 minutes three to four times per week. Get creative! Pick an activity you LOVE TO DO and just GET IT DONE!.

Tip #3: Begin Journaling

OK. This might be different than really embarking upon writing a book. However, it wouldn’t be the first time one’s ‘journal’ became a best seller. It’s happened before. It can happen again. But, the point of journaling is not a great deal ‘publishing’ it because it is an exercise in introspection and expression. It’s a great stress reliever, too, and can often provide on a conscious level those answers we hold on a subconscious level.

Take a few minutes each day to record that day’s experiences. Begin with those activities in yourself for which you are most grateful. Focus on your blessings; not your minuses. However, write what you are truly feeling and don’t judge what you write as either “right” or “wrong”; “good” or “bad”. Just write. Don’t also worry about sentence fragments and/or punctuation. This really isn’t English class. It’s journaling. If you can get all stressed about exactly how it ‘sounds’ you will defeat the purpose.

Tip #4: Become a student of Better Money Management

Unless you’re currently a wiz at finances (I’m no psychic, but I’d venture to say nearly all of us aren’t), check your local community for workshops and seminars that teach the tricks of money management and investing. These may be special activities that come to your town just like the visiting circus, or there are ongoing workshops held by community colleges or your local Chamber of Commerce. In any event, you can learn an excellent deal at these types of events and you can feel safe in doing so because if everyone else in the space had a handle on this topic they wouldn’t be at the seminar. But, the others are on their way to building wealth and you might since well hang out with those individuals anyhow. We’re talking “evolving” right here, right? Your finances are no exception. This task will create many opportunities on an everyday foundation to check your life and, possibly, a recreation of Y.O.U.

Tip #5: Browse

Whoaaa! Now, I know I’ve scared the skin away from some of you. But, R.E.A.D. is an OK, four-letter word! You won't be a bad influence on your children and grandchildren if they come to visit you if you have to place your book down on the coffee dining table to open the door. It’s OK if once the phone rings and also the other person asked, “Hi, what were you doing?” you said, “I was reading.” Last I checked that isn’t against the law.

Now, if you prefer to grow and change into an even more awesome person than you already are, you may desire to consider reading biographies of successful people or self-improvement books which teach you skills for living better and with additional purpose. Wouldn’t it be really cool if you could be an example to your children and grandchildren as to exactly how to get this done?!

Tip no. 6: Turn Off the TV

Listen. It’s my personal opinion that TV really doesn’t ‘keep us company’. It keeps us stagnant. an occasional show with half decent content can be fun, can provide laughter, and --- if we get REALLY lucky --- may even offer great music or drama. But, I know way too lots of people who watch fictional figures every week as these characters attempt to unscrew-up their screwed up lives. Instead of watching someone else ‘have a life’ --- create a life for yourself! Go to boundaries and have now a cup of something and browse for a good book. Chances are that if you meet someone interesting in the section you’re in ---- you’ll have a lot in common. Hit up a conversation. Be approachable. Not for romantic reasons…for “people” reasons. You have plenty of the time for cultivating friendships. Remember, 20 years ago you'd have sold a lung for the opportunity to get from the household alone and hang in boundaries. HANG, for heaven’s sake!

Tip #7: Learn a fresh skill

So, which word above is confusing you…“learn”, “new”, or “skill”? Do you have any idea how many fabulous opportunities you will find into the world to learn? Many colleges, universities, and community colleges offer courses as “audits”. You don’t also have to fund the course because there are no credits earned ---- just information and new knowledge. These courses can be found in a number of disciplines from spiritual studies to science to photography to vegan culinary skills to innovative writing to windsurfing. Again, everyone really loves something. And --- the really cool component concerning this whole concept is that it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. It’s all about YOU! You can understand how to play a better game at whatever game it is you’re playing. But, you need to be USING!! If it’s been way too long since you’ve thought about what it is that certainly fires you up, take an instant and think back to when you were caught like a chicken with your head cut off. You're running to T-Ball games, dance recitals, pediatrician appointments, pharmacies, parent/teacher conferences, choir practices, girl scouts, and boy scouts. You're driving children to your movies and picking them up because somehow YOUR children had you convinced that YOU were the only parent with the some time an automobile. (Can you believe that we thought them?)

So, that which was it that you were dreaming about in those private moments in your heart when you said to yourself, “Boy, if I only had more time I’d love to ______________!” Can you fill in the blank? THAT is what you should go learn more about. Or, you can understand how to send video messages and audio messages within an email to your friends in place of typing a note. You can learn how to prepare all your bills online with the various software programs that are out on the market. You can learn to make your own greeting cards. And, if you currently know exactly how to do a thing that other folks want to learn about --- write your own personal eBook!

Tip #8: Invite friends for dinner

Yes, friends. I know you have got some. They’re the individuals whom I was referring in Tip #5 who call you on the phone and interrupt your reading. They really enjoy consuming and would love a free meal at your home. But, if you’re perhaps not inclined to cooking or you feel like you’d be a threat to your friends’ health by doing so --- invite them out for dinner and meet them at your favorite destination. Chances are they were stuck in a rut, too, and would really enjoy getting from the household. (I can almost see those red-checkered tablecloths currently.)

Tip number 9: Make a Vision Board of something you desire

I don't have any concept what it is precisely that you'd like to have in your lifetime that isn’t currently in your life. Only you would know that. But, I would challenge you to definitely remember that everything that you do have in your lifetime started as an idea, a dream, or a vision. If you own a home, you probably had an idea at one point in your lifetime that you desired to own a home. Then, over time, you had the various stages that precede purchasing the home. You didn’t just wake up 1 day and find a home, show up at a bank, get the money and sales agreement, and march into the existence of the seller with your offer. If it took place like that for you, then I highly recommend you write the eBook on “How to Buy a Home in One Day” (Tip #7). But, like the majority of people, finding your house was first a desire or dream then you envisioned which type of home you desire to own. At some point --- after many challenges and strategic planning --- you became a homeowner. This could be the exact same way we acquire anything else in life that we would like to have, do, or accomplish.

A Vision Board is nothing significantly more than a visual format of a dream or desire. If it’s a tropical vacation you want, placed together a poster board full of pictures of that dream vacation destination. You can do it as a collage or simply paste your pictures in a linear fashion onto the poster board. You may want a car or a boat. Or, you'll have a goal in mind that is less tangible in nature, such as losing weight and gaining muscle or becoming a better skier, fisherman or golfer. You may desire a vocation change. What would these goals look like for you? Maybe you actually want to relocate to a warmer climate. Create a Vision Board with pictures of the actual city in which you desire to relocate. Include pictures of homes, golf courses, restaurants, downtown shops, the surrounding mountains or ocean fronts, aerial views of the landscape of the favorite “home town”. The Vision Board is mostly about everything you desire to achieve or receive, so there is not any right or wrong method of accomplishing it. There are additionally electronic versions of vision boards with slide show presentations that will be placed on your desk for frequent viewing. If you choose to utilize poster board version, make sure to place it where you will have very frequent exposure to it every day. If you spend plenty of time on your desktop, place it on your desk firmly fixed to the wall surface directly in front of your eyes. You will have no other choice than to look at it usually during your day. It will be the very first thing you see in the morning and the last thing you see at night. Believe me. You will go closer to your goal --- whatever goal you choose --- simply by implementing this simple concept.

By just how, creating your Vision Board doesn’t have to be completed in one single shot. It can be created over time. It can unfold as your desire or goal unfolds. The desire or goal will create the Vision Board and also the Vision Board may help to create the desire or goal. You will be pleasantly amazed with the result!

Tip #10: Decide what you need to DO for the remainder of yourself

“Decision” is a BIG word! Without choice, nothing else happens. We each spend roughly eight to ten waking hours each day doing some form of work. Even for anyone who may be retired or semi-retired, there is something that gets your attention for the hours in which you are not sleeping.

If you’re still working, are you really doing the kind of work you love to do. Or, can it be simply a means to an end? Is your work nothing more compared to the paycheck at the end of the week? I realize that not everyone can just leave his or her “job” and do their life’s passion. But, for anyone who've the flexibility to do so, please take the time you are now allotted and figure it out for yourselves. Obviously, only you'll decide if you can manage to this. Maybe you can’t afford not to. Either way, make a decision as to the manner in which you truly desire to spend each day. For those of you who must continue working at a full-time job, possibly there clearly was something you would enjoy doing part-time for extra income OR, possibly, on a volunteer basis. Did you always have a passion for nursing? Do you love dealing with geriatric patients? Do you love the laughter and energy of little children? Do you love libraries, free galleries, or museums? Every community has many Para-professional and volunteer opportunities in each one of these areas. Often, hiring managers welcome the more seasoned worker when searching for extra help since they know and trust the work ethic and experience you bring to the table.

Now, I’m having the feeling that lots of of you would love to start yours business --- maybe even on a part-time basis until it is up and running. What exactly is that one vocation you have always wanted to do? Please don’t say “it’s too late” or “at my age?” For just one thing, it’s never far too late. Also, if you’re 60 years old now and you don’t pursue your passion on the next five years, I’m thinking you’re still going to be 65 years old after the following 5 years have come to fruition. So, you may as well go after it!

So, to which “empty nest” are you referring? ‘Cause if you’re in it, it’s maybe not empty.

©2009 Debra L. Costanzo, 3 in 1 Fitness by D.L. Costanzo, LLC All Rights Reserved