#i NEVER knew they talk so much because while i've travelled with them individually in past saves...

[forcedhesitation]

astarion origin playthrough worth it just for all the extra moments where he does the "sad wet cat" face

[balkanradfem]

I've been reading 'The Climate Book' from Greta Thunberg, and I have to talk about it. I've never seen a book written so brilliantly and desperately, pleading for awareness, for action, for survival. I thought I was aware of the climate change, but there was a vast amount of information I did not know. I'll start from the ones I did.

I knew that the climate has already changed, and will continue to change until a lot of animal species will go extinct, and a big amount of human beings will suffer, end up impoverish, misplaced, in starvation, or dead. I knew the culprits were the companies that refused to stop taking down forests, burning fossil fuels, promoting lifestyles of consumerism, over-consumption, generated the amount of waste that the planet could not safely consume or store. I also knew that one of the biggest pollutants were big oil, animal and plant agriculture, fast fashion industry, travel industry, and the capitalistic system that enabled 1% of humanity to own and over-consume 90% of the resources available to us. Knowing this made me feel powerless, because even as I boycott all of it, I can't do much else, and I'm not enough to stop what is going on. I am merely a drop in the ocean - which is what Greta points out as well. But, Greta doesn't think we're powerless.

This book is incredible in the sense that it goes over and beyond to think practically. It doesn't despair, it doesn't panic, it doesn't think any other way but how to practically and effectively bring change, what are the options and possibilities, what is true and what is propaganda, how to avoid millions of deaths and extinctions that are sure to come, if we do nothing. Greta has analyzed all action that is 'being done', and found out most of it was fraud, cheating, lying. All of the governments and companies who were bragging about reduced emissions, or offsetting emissions, have simply found ways to outsource them and to emit them in another, poorer country. The amount of emissions has actually increased.

She has also interviewed the world leaders, and people responsible and suffering from climate change - and these are the results: Nobody feels responsible, nobody feels as if it's their turn to change, to reduce, to do anything to help it. Even interviewing people whose livelihood was taken away from them due to climate change, who have lost their living environments already, their trees and animals and fields and fertility and soil, when asked if they would be willing to work ecologically from now on, with reduced or low emissions, their answer was 'Why should we? It's not fair, they took from us and enjoyed, while we suffered. We won't stop until we have what they have. We deserve it.'

With this information, Greta has found a truth of how humans influence each other - we imitate. If we see someone else doing something, or having something we find desirable, we also want it. We look at ourselves in relation to other people that surround us, we take responsibility according to what others around do, and we hold ourselves accountable only as much as others do. And this is why we have a power that goes beyond individual action, beyond simply lowering our own emissions and boycotting companies that are responsible for pollution - we are able to influence others. We're able to influence the media, which forms public opinions, and using the media, force into action those who benefit from polluting the planet.

What I didn't know, and this book taught me, was that from the times humans started to hunt, they didn't only have a great effect on the environment, they were the absolute leading agent on it. Soon after hunting the megafauna into extinction, the environment started to change not just because we affected it, but because we directed it to. We caused the extinction of many species throughout the past, by hunting, taking wild spaces for our own use, polluting water sources, changing the climate, spreading predatory species,  like cats and rats, and we didn't stop there. We changed the landscapes of forests and fields, into human-used agricultural land that was effectively deadened for the purpose of wildlife. We domesticated, and then farmed animals, to such extreme degree, that right now what is left of the wildlife, is mere 12-15% of all animals out there. More than 80% of current animals by weight living on earth, are put there by animal agriculture, meant for human consumption. That is absolutely insane. We did the same with the wildlife environment as well – there is now only 3% of the forests on earth, that are still considered intact. We changed the landscape, not only slightly, but by erasing most of it, making it unusable to animals, insects or wild plants, appropriated only for agriculture, grazing, and human-only environments. And, we dug up and released so much carbon into the air, it is coming close to the amount that we had on the earth, at the time of dinosaur extinction, which wiped out a third of the planet's species. And we keep doing it, even knowing what will happen, knowing that every single time this happened in the past, it created mass extinction.

I wasn't aware how serious and extreme the changes we made were. Knowing what is going out, makes it very clear why we have a crisis, it would be crazy to expect not to have one. These changes were not reported, nobody was asked to approve of them, there were no regulations or limits, no environmental studies on consequences, and it keeps going. We keep increasing the demand for agriculture and animal products, increasing our consumption even though we are running out of the natural resources used to create the products. And it is not our fault. Most of the food and meat created by destroying this land, will go to waste, for the profit of the corporations. The world will keep living in starvation, despite so much of natural life getting destroyed for food, despite the climate crisis being caused, partly by our food production.

This doesn't mean we can't sustainably feed ourselves anymore, it just means we can't do it the way we're used to. It just tells us we need to use more resilient and less land and water consuming food. Plant based diets demand less soil and emit less carbon, gardening reduces the amount of agricultural space needed to feed us, supporting and protecting wildlife wherever it's still thriving, will save both soil, animal species, and biodiversity that is very quickly fading from the planet.

I've also learned that even as we're close to the tipping point, but haven't reached it yet. Whatever we do right now that stops us from reaching it, will mean the difference between life and death to the future generations of people, animals, and plants. If we manage to make changes now, to stop the ice from melting past the tipping point, we can save millions of lives, that would end in certain death otherwise. If we can create policies that are not volountary but binding, we have a chance to save livable land, animal and plant species, biodiversity, and human quality of life. It's not too late to act, in fact, this is the vital time to act, and we're the only ones who can do it.

And the way you can act is not just by reducing waste, reducing the amount of energy you consume, reducing animal-products in your food and refusing to waste and throw away usable goods, but by being public about it. By making it clear it's a positive improvement on your life, on your quality of life, that it's both moral and enjoyable, both inspiring and encouraging others to do the same. Some of us have bigger impact on others than we might know, and if we start doing it and visibly enjoying it, there are others who will follow.

This book has taught me immense amount of science behind the climate crisis, and gave me incentive to do more than just live and feel helpless, I need to do more. I recommend this book to anyone wanting to learn more, and wanting to act more. I will be from now on, writing more about ecology and preserving the planet, and how to do it. If we're the directors of where this planet is going, we have to be so intentionally, with knowledge, wisdom and awareness of what we are doing. We can do good, and humans have been doing good, any time there's been wisdom, awareness and intention in how we're shaping the environment. And if anyone wants the book in the audio form, send me a message and I will give it to you.

[ouyangzizhensdad]

Do you think that making Chinese food is cultural appropriation? I'm white and started making some of the foods I saw in the shows I've watched since the untamed, but now I'm worried I'm appropriating the culture.

Hi anon,

As a fellow white person, I am also someone who needs to critically reflect on how I engage with different cultures. I can't give you the definitive answer you seek, the clear absolution from any potential wrongdoings; in its stead, I can only offer to share my current thought process on this topic. I’d still encourage you to seek other perspectives, and many people have written or spoken on this topic.

I believe we must first acknowledge that, on the terrain of the internet, discussions regarding cultural appropriation have reached a certain... extreme where some people view all forms of cultural exchanges as inherently suspect. They purport that so long as you stay within the bounds of ‘your’ culture, you will problematic behaviours. That perspective is inherent flawed. That is, it relies on a vision of culture as ‘bounded entities’ that exist in themselves. In reality, the ‘stuff’ that makes culture is emergent, existing only relationally, dialectically--it is a not a ‘thing’ that moves through time but an idea which is constantly negotiated and reproduced in relation to power and changing material realities to remain relevant and intelligible. The boundaries of cultural and ethnic groups are fuzzy, overlapping, and constantly being reworked and made meaningful. As an illustration, many of the food I grew up eating was influenced by ingredients and recipes immigrants brought in the 19th and 20th centuries, yet these dishes were understood as 'typically ours’. And it needs to be acknowledged that most of what is currently considered ‘white people food’ relies on ingredients that were introduced to our diet through colonialism and the violent dispossession of indigenous peoples (and, often, the current day exploitation of workers in the South and of migrant workers). No food can be truly ‘traditionally ours’, whatever the purported ‘we’ ends up being brought into the equation, and no eating behaviours can avoid the historical legacy and continuity of violence and power.

Of course, as people who exist in the world, we know that there are cultural differences. Bakhtin’s insights on language through the tensions between centripedal (ie towards uniformity, a common meaning) and centrifugal (toward diversity and change) forces can be expanded to help us conceptualise how we make sense of the way a ‘culture’ is perpetuated through time as something meaningful in our daily lives. Uniformity allows intelligibility, sense-making, but diversity and change are inescapable by-products of individuals and groups repeatedly going through life, meeting and trying to create intelligibility and sense together in a world that cannot stay the same. It is at the intersection of these two conflicting forces that something can be different yet considered the same--that we can create continuity out of change. But something perhaps less emphasized in Bakhtin’s discussions is how much power and material realities work on these forces. Power influences both centripedal and centrifugal forces, if only in orchestrating circumstances that shape how one encounters ‘different cultures’ or reproduces their 'own' culture.

We live at a moment where the world seems to have reached an apex of connectivity--where goods, people, ideas (and viruses) move across distance and borders at speeds that defy comprehension. Yet the way goods, people and ideas move (through which canals and systems? in which direction? to the benefits of whom? at the expense of whom? to what reception or use? in the service of which institutions and ideologies?) or are, inversely, incapable or unwilling to move, is influenced by power and material realities. It is inescapable.

In a roundabout way, what I’m trying to say is that it's useless to try to live life in 'your lane' by turning to a baseline 'culture' because we simply do not have a baseline culture to return to that is 'safe' from the influences of other cultures or the taint of the historical legacy and continuity of violence. So how do I personally reconcile that with how I engage with content that is produced from different cultural contexts, and how I engage with cooking food that is influenced by different cultural contexts? For me the guidelines I take into consideration are respect, attribution and avoiding forms of dehumanisation. These emerged out of witnessing how other white people have acted as well as critically reflecting on how I have acted in the past, and trying to do better (including of course, by listening to different perspectives on the topic). [just in case, warning for examples of racism/micro-agressions] I've been in China with white people who would praise the cooking we were eating in the same breath they were making jokes about dog meat. I've witnessed in Japan a dude decide not to come to an izakaya with Japanese colleagues, fucking off on his own to Akihabara instead, because he was disappointed he couldn’t talk about anime with them--too obsessed with the idealised version of Japan he’d created in his head to treat the Japanese people he met as people. The internet is full of white people telling you how to cook food from places they've never been and taking credit for 'popularising' that dish or 'making it better'. That's not even talking about the tendency for food to become a mark of a cosmopolitan, metropolitan identity in the West--the open-minded, the liberal, the traveler, the hip white person up with the times and beyond the mainstream. Hell, I've even seen people who act as if eating ‘ethnic’ food prepared by immigrants is the singular proof that they were people who cared about immigrants' well-being.

Food is rarely just about food, even when consumed at home. At the same time, we’d be remiss in all these discussions of power to dismiss how food is also one of oldest things we, as humans, want to share with others--including strangers. Feeding is nourishing and giving, eating is accepting into ourselves something made by others. Most people appreciate it when the value of a dish that holds importance for them is recognised by others--although, of course, many might understandably also resent that they have been discriminated against or mocked for eating that same food. Every time I’ve been invited in an immigrant household or at events with mostly immigrants, I’ve felt this sense of almost trepidation emanating from them, waiting for my reaction, and satisfaction once I was seen eating and appreciating the food they had served me--as if the acceptance of the food that was tied to their identity was a form of acceptance of who they were. Of course this can’t be disentangled from past experiences where other people might have been disrespectful, dismissive or outright racist: but the excitement they had in sharing food that had meaning to them and seeing others appreciate it was genuine.

Beyond situations of clear cultural sharing, where we get closer to what appears to be ‘cultural appropriation’, I believe that we cannot act as if there is something inherently sacrilegious in the idea of adapting recipes or using a specific ingredients in new ways--that’s centrifugal forces at play, and they have provided us with many dishes we love today: from immigrant creations like butter chicken to things like spicy kimchi. We cannot work with the assumption that people will only react with hostility at the idea of other people cooking the food they grew with, even in ways that are different from how they’re traditionally used and are thus “not authentic”. I still remember an interaction I had in a Korean grocery store, once upon a time when I lived in a metropolitan city. A man in front of me at the cash register who had been buying snacks and chatting with the employee in Korean looked at my stuff and suddenly asked me if I knew the name of the leafy green I was buying. I wasn’t necessarily surprised because I had overheard in the past customers and employees commenting in Korean about being surprised about the ingredients I, a white person, was purchasing, thinking I couldn’t understand them. I confirmed to him that I knew I was buying mustard greens. He then asked me what I was planning to do with them, and I explained that while I didn’t think it’s a traditional or common way of using it, I personally liked to add them to kimchi jjigae because it compliments their bitter/strong taste and I like leafy greens in my soups and stews. He said it was interesting, and that he was kind of impressed. The employee chimed to tell me I should be honoured at the compliment because the man was actually a chef who owned famous Korean fusion restaurants in the city. That was clearly someone who took Korean food very seriously and clearly had a certain degree of suspicion regarding how white people interacted with it, but he was also curious and interested in seeing how I approached ingredients without having grown up eating them.

Another point of contention is also that we cannot ignore that food is a sensual experience and that, while tastes are greatly influenced by our environment, they are not solely so. I grew up hating most of the food my parents would serve me, and started cooking in my early teens to avoid having to eat it. Before I started cooking, I would often just eat rice with (in hindsight horrible) western-brand soy sauce instead of the meal my mom had made. When I ate Indian food for the first time during a trip at the ripe age of 16, it blew my mind that food could taste like this. Of course I never wanted to look back, and with each years I discovered that a lot of Asian cuisines fit my palate better than what I grew up eating or other cuisines I had tried. When I was a teenager we visited my mom’s friend in France and I hated what she served us so much I’d simply choose to nibble on bread, prompting her to try to stage an intervention for my ‘obvious’ anorexia. Yet, being in China made me realise ingredients I thought I hated had just been cooked in ways I disliked. Do my taste buds absolve me from any need to think critically about how I interact with food? Of course not. But sometimes the reason we want to cook certain recipes and foods is just that it tastes great to us, and we want to reproduce the recipes we enjoyed with the ingredients and the skills we have. Or, really, sometimes we just want to try new tastes because we do a lot of eating throughout our lives, and it seems a waste to limit ourselves to a narrow number of dishes for decades to come.

So that’s where I currently am in my thinking about this topic, as a white person who cooks dishes influenced by a number of different places but who is also not trying to cook in a way that is necessarily authentic. Some things that I keep in mind that you can ask yourself now that cdramas and cnovels have made you interested in Chinese cooking is: are you taking this as an opportunity to support immigrant businesses when getting your ingredients? are you supporting white creators when looking for chinese recipes (some suggestion of youtube channels: Made with Lau, Chinese cooking Demystified, Family in Northwest China, 西北小强 Xibeixiaoqiang, 小高姐的 Magic Ingredients)? are you being respectful (not reproducing harmful stereotypes in how you talk about chinese food and the people who eat it)? do you use your interest in Chinese food to create a narrative about China and Chinese people that denies them, in some way, of their complexity and humanity? are you using your interest in Chinese food to create a narrative about yourself?

In conclusion I will leave you with a picture of some misshapen baozi I’ve made.

[crazy-loca-blog]

Casey Valentine: About Her Future

A/N: This has been one hell of a ride! Talking about Casey and her life has been an amazing experience. There are many situations about her future that I haven't figured out yet, that's why I'm keeping things in a very limited timeframe (around 2 and maybe 3 years after the end of her residency). Thanks a lot to @openheartfanfics for organizing this event. I've had a blast!

Meet My MC || About Her Past || About Her Present

Casey has been leading the diagnostics team for over two years now. And things have changed a lot.

As soon as she assumed her new role, she was determined to make the team the core of a system that also involves the rest of the departments at Edenbrook. And she uses her friends for it.

Casey, Ines and Jackie are implementing a special program to evaluate interns and residents in order to discover outstanding doctors that may support the diagnostics team and other areas in the hospital after their boards. It follows a lot of the guidelines that Ethan used when they were interns, but it also gives selected residents an opportunity to assist the diagnostics team in some cases in order to improve their skills.

Elijah and Zaid became her go-to people when it comes to studies and reseach, especially in those cases where experimental treatments are the only option for patients.

Sienna quickly became a team favorite. As the best pediatrician at Edenbrook, every time the team receives a pediatric case, she is involved in the course of treatment of the patient. Casey is considering to offer her a permanent spot in the team.

Bryce's research skills when it comes to evaluate surgical options for patients are brilliant, so he frequently helps Harper by giving her second opinions on certain procedures. He also covers for her as member of the diagnostics team every time she's on leave.

When a patient needs rehab after some surgery, Rafael is the one in charge of the process. The results his patients achieve in their recovery are proof that he has all the profesionalism, the patience and the work ethics the team needs in their collaborators.

As per Baz and Ethan, Casey convinced them to keep collaborating with the team on an ocassional basis. They are one of the best immunologists and the best diagnostician in the country, so she needs their brains in her team, even if it's not permanently. They assist in the hardest and most enigmatic cases.

Despite all their efforts, the team can't accept every case they receive. And that's when Kenmore help is appreciated. A year ago, Tobias, Casey and Aurora developed a collaboration project between the diagnostics teams of both hospitals, which now allows both Edenbrook and Kenmore to help twice the amount of people they used to assist when they worked separately.

Of course, none of this would be possible without Ethan's help. As Chief of Medicine, he has the power to approve most of Casey's projects, so he's been making a very good use of a position that he wasn't convinced to accept at first. It's definitely been a win-win situation when it comes to team work between Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Valentine.

Despite of them being very private when it comes to their personal lives, there is no doubt that Casey and Ethan are relationship goals. If seeing them working together in the past was a delight, the way they've been ruling Edenbrook after becoming official has certainly helped them become the power couple the hospital needed.

Because you can definitely tell they're not only great partners, but also each other's best friend. Their nonverbal communication skills are at a whole different level and they certainly boost each other in a way you can tell they're the best thing that has ever happened to the other. They're in love and it shows.

That's why no one was surprised when, after 8 months of becoming official, they decided to move in together.

But everybody was surprised when Ethan proposed only a few months afterwards. Except for his dad and her brother (who were the only people who knew about his plans), literally no one saw it coming, not even Casey (because yes, Ethan has mastered the art of surprising her).

They almost canceled the wedding... twice. The stress of their jobs plus the chaos that involves planning a wedding was beginning to affect their wellbeing as individuals. It wasn't a big issue for any of them: Casey never cared about having a ring on her finger and they both knew that nothing about their relationship would change if they didn't sign a piece of paper, as they were certain they had sealed the deal a long time ago.

The thought of an elopement also crossed their minds... and right when they were about to do it, Sienna came up with a brilliant idea to save their original plan: a micro wedding, that took place 6 months ago.

These newlyweds like saying they have a family of four: Ethan's dad and Casey's brother are pretty much the only relatives they have, so they consider them part of their household. They even have their own rooms in their new home in Boston!

They'd both agree that getting used to wear a ring has probably been the hardest part of their marriage, even when they cared about buying bands that were "compatible" with their jobs. But they are pretty sure that if they take it off, they'll end up losing it, so they kind of gave up. They expect to get used to it over time.

When they're not at work, they love exploring all the hidden gems that Boston has to offer. They've found a bunch of great places thanks to Rafael's recommendations, but they have also discovered a lot of new places by themselves. That doesn't mean they don't enjoy a good date at home after an exhausting day at work or getting lost and disconnecting from the world for a full weekend without telling anyone where they are.

This philosophy of discovering new places also applies to their holidays. Sometimes they'd go to well-known places, but they both agree that their favorite trips are those where they visit underrated destinations. Of course, they also leave a few days to visit Alan in Providence and to go to Casey's home in Virginia.

Kids? They have talked about it, but they don't feel ready to take that step yet. Not only their jobs are very demanding, they both have some baggage they need to get rid of before thinking about becoming parents. They're not in a hurry though, they're convinced that everything happens for a reason... they are happy, and that's all that matters.

She may not live with them anymore, but the roomies (and the rest of the gang) are still incredibly close. Casey still has lunch with whoever is available almost every day, and they still have a booth with their names on it at Donahue's.

When Casey moved in with Ethan, they didn't search for a new roomie. With the exception of Sienna, they all were attendings, so it was easier for them fo afford Casey's part ot the rent. They decided to turn her room into an office they all use a lot.

And none of them has the intention to leave their apartment any time soon. Housing in Boston is incredibly expensive, and they know none of them could afford a place like the one they have by themselves. This also gives them a chance to get rid of their med school debt a little faster.

Jackie, Aurora, Sienna and Casey also host a "girls just want to have fun" event at the apartment whenever Elijah visits his parents. It's a bonding tradition they started during their residency and they have no intention to finish any time soon. Sometimes, Kyra (when she is in town), Ines and Angie join them as well.

Bryce is the person she relies on when she needs a brotherly figure. She can definitely see a lot of her brother on him, and he always seem to have the right answer to everything. He also had to get a bigger place, as Keiki returned to Boston after being accepted at Harvard. Casey and Jackie guided her to attend med school... and convinced her to become a diagnostician.

The gang never knows when Kyra is going to make some surprise visit. She's been travelling around the world for a long time now, but she's been back home a few times for special ocasions. The last time they saw her was for Casey and Ethan's wedding.

Sienna and Casey have been exchanging recipes for a while now. Casey can cook to survive, but Ethan takes cooking to a whole new level, so Sienna usually comes to the rescue when her bestie needs help.

Casey is also playing matchmaker between Sienna and Rafael. She has been observing the way they look at each other for a while, and she's convinced they would make the cutest couple ever. Because beautiful souls deserve to be together. So yeah, she most definitely will introduce Sienna and Rafael's vovo very soon with some "help me cook dinner" excuse.

Tags: @adiehardfan @izzyourresidentlawyer

[deprssivewriter]

Errors in general and Nye in particular

Thanks to the best bro for motivation (even though you did it unconsciously).

It’s time to talk about concept and characters, yeah. Although today I will pay attention to the most unprocessed of them.

A brief digression: once upon a time there was a boy of fourteen years old and he wanted characters with angel wings. But he not only had given up on the wings, and he'd given the race the stupid name "Errors," and by the time he was twenty, he hadn't come up with anything better. So, in addition to the wings, Errors each have their own curse (there are only a few types, but more on that later). Accordingly, when they are severely or mortally wounded, the curse consumes them (who understood thay understood, who did not understand they will understand). However, even after the resurrection, the curse does not immediately go away, it torments the wearer for another couple of days (depending on the circumstances), while the body slowly recovers. Errors are born rarely from ordinary people, parents see the wings from birth, even though they are like in a hidden state. By the age of 3-4, Errors awaken their first powers, including their wings, and they can no longer keep them hidden, so for the next few years everyone can see their wings until they learn to control them. We continue to develop my insanity, Errors are immortal. You can kill them only by pulling out their wings, all other methods of killing lead only to rebirth. By the way, the Error itself can not pull out the wings, either, they will grow back in this case. It seems that all the most important things are indicated.

Let's go back to the one I originally wanted to write about. Nye. Initially, he was envisioned as a completely neutral character, but quickly enough something went wrong, and he became an asshole, which probably difficult to find. But a recent conversation with bro made me think about him. I really wanted to write something, and I asked her if she wanted to see something from the life of a certain character. She also said that she wanted Nye and Jack(another Error) to meet for the first time, and I was a little upset. It was in my mind in general terms, but I never thought about this moment in detail, however, as well as about Nye. Among all my characters, he is the only one who does not have a prototype from real life. Somehow, he just happens to exist on its own. Among other things, somehow it turned out that he was fucking special. In theory, the first Error appeared due to a freaking major failure in genetics, according to the theory, all the genes there should have been recessive (I'm not a biologist, so I don't quite understand what I'm saying, I warn you right away). Nye, in turn, was born an albino, which is also a fucking glitch in genetics, and with it came a new curse that no one had before. Nye is currently the only carrier of it (and probably the only one, I don't think that he wants to have a child). So, when I thought about him, I tried to put aside all my negative attitude towards him, and realized that in fact he is very strong, and it is quite possible that he was so twisted because of life. He had to deal with all this shit himself (Errpr’s powers, I mean). And even when he was able to find some information, he still had his curse, which no one had ever seen before. And I will remind you that he is an albino, so he periodically got severe sunburn. I also remind you that the curse begins to work when the wearer is seriously injured. His curse is carnivorous butterflies (yes, what will you do to me). They eat away at the place where the wound is, which is accompanied by hellish pain and not the most pleasant sight, in the case of death, the butterflies eat him completely, while he remains conscious for as long as possible (when I imagine what pain he is experiencing, I already wince). And to avoid suffering, he was able to subdue his own curse, which also happened for the first time in the history of Errors.

Nye has learned to spray his body on butterflies and thus travel long distances in a very short time, he has to wear a black cloak so that the sun can not burn him, and in case of which people do not see his rotten, butterfly-eaten flesh. Also, since some butterflies are extremely good at mimicry, he has learned to use them to turn into any person, which is also a great achievement. Let's go back almost to the beginning of the post, where I mentioned Jack. Nye took him away from his family around the age of 7 to take care of him, so that he would not face the same difficulties as Nye himself. Only Jack's family was good, they loved their son, even too much, perhaps even considered it a blessing that their son was an "angel". But Nye took him anyway. My main character, has a theory that maybe Jack's parents were part of a cult that hunted her once (ugh, in short, Error’s feathers are important shit and that very sect catches them as children until they can't control their wings), or at least were going to give it to them, and all their love is ostentatious, so that Jack does not master the ability to hide his wings for as long as possible. Given that I still haven't refuted this theory, it's possible that this is true, and Nye actually saved him (let's skip the point that after a dozen years, he began to treat him). I'm all for what, maybe Nye is just broken, like almost all of my characters. Yes, compared to someone else (I'm talking about the main OC, yes, her name is Tie), his suffering and pain are not so large-scale, but we all have a different psyche, none of us consists of iron or something harder. In addition, in the end, after almost a decade from the main events, Nye still comes to his senses and realizes that he behaved like an asshole.

Up to this point, I have not had any sketches with Nye, except for some very short snatches from the plot, because it is very difficult. It is extremely difficult for me to think like Nye from events of present, he is extremely adept at mixing lies with the truth, so that in the end you involuntarily begin to believe him.

"You know, I almost feel sorry for her. She has everything and nothing — no friends, no homeland, no family… She is a proud person, she never gives up, but her very contempt for death speaks volumes. She has nothing to lose, and she wants nothing but her own death, and she won't get it. Tie is smart enough to understand this and more… She hates us, fights with us, but even so, she understands that the truth is on our side. By blood, she is a person, but by birth she is tied to Errors and **. ***, Yuzuru, and even ****** can be forgiven and accepted. Tie — no, because the hatred of the traitor and betrayal is stronger than the arguments of reason… She knows how to show that she does not care, but she is a living being. She proved to everyone that she was ready to be the best, but it wouldn't change anything… She will live her life with the stamp, so she does not fall in love. Whatever she is, she is afraid that her children will turn out to be Error and live the same life. That they'll live in hell... "The good has sharp fangs" ... that's what Tie once said. Her drinking with *******, her friendship with demons, her lack of fear… God, everyone is afraid, even me, but Tie is not… She seeks her own death, and finds someone else's, " Nye said softly.

I'm sorry, some of the words are censored (?), because I'm not ready to talk about someone’s names yet. Let's go back to the other one. Will you be able to figure out where the lies are and where the truth is, without knowing anything about Tie?

While the real Nye is hard for me, I have a good understanding of the Nye of the future and, as it turned out, of the past. And all this demagoguery I spread only for the sake of the second.

When the curse first consumed me, I didn't immediately understand what was happening. Gradually, the white butterflies of “death" were killing me. I knew I was turning into food for them, but I couldn't help it. I just lay there helplessly, watching as they gradually absorbed my flesh and reached my bones. Everything happened very slowly, and I was conscious until they got to my heart.

But even after the rebirth, they have not disappeared. I didn't want to go through that excruciating pain again, I didn't want to be [eaten] again.

I tried not to get hurt, but it's very difficult, so I started wearing a black raincoat in all weathers to keep the burns to a minimum. That's something.

But in battle, it is more difficult to avoid a blow or even death. In one of these I do not know how, but just for a couple of seconds, I turned into a flock of butterflies, with the help of which I was able to avoid a blow. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, but it struck me. And ever since, I've been haunted by the thought that it's Me who can control my curse, not it.

With small steps, I began to master it, first scattering the individual parts of the body, getting used to the sensations and control over each of the butterflies. Then it was more difficult, it was necessary to learn not only to scatter the whole body, but also to spend as much time as necessary in this state. It's very energy-intensive, but I'm sure it will pay off for me.

Maybe with this ability, I can become something special, something more…

[frankiefellinlove]

This is it! The whole article where John Landau writes that Bruce “is the future of rock n roll”. Long but so worth the read, to see that quote in context.

GROWING YOUNG WITH ROCK AND ROLL

By Jon Landau

The Real Paper

May 22, 1974📷

It's four in the morning and raining. I'm 27 today, feeling old, listening to my records, and remembering that things were diffferent a decade ago. In 1964, I was a freshman at Brandeis University, playing guitar and banjo five hours a day, listening to records most of the rest of the time, jamming with friends during the late-night hours, working out the harmonies to Beach Boys' and Beatles' songs.

Real Paper soul writer Russell Gersten was my best friend and we would run through the 45s everyday: Dionne Warwick's "Walk On By" and "Anyone Who Had A Heart," the Drifters' "Up On the Roof," Jackie Ross' "Selfish One," the Marvellettes' "Too Many Fish in the Sea," and the one that no one ever forgets, Martha Reeves and the Vandellas' "Heat Wave." Later that year a special woman named Tamar turned me onto Wilson Pickett's "Midnight Hour" and Otis Redding's "Respect," and then came the soul. Meanwhile, I still went to bed to the sounds of the Byrds' "Mr. Tambourine Man" and later "Younger than Yesterday," still one of my favorite good-night albums. I woke up to Having a Rave-Up with the Yardbirds instead of coffee. And for a change of pace, there was always bluegrass: The Stanley Brothers, Bill Monroe, and Jimmy Martin.

Through college, I consumed sound as if it were the staff of life. Others enjoyed drugs, school, travel, adventure. I just liked music: listening to it, playing it, talking about it. If some followed the inspiration of acid, or Zen, or dropping out, I followed the spirit of rock'n'roll.

Individual songs often achieved the status of sacraments. One September, I was driving through Waltham looking for a new apartment when the sound on the car radio stunned me. I pulled over to the side of the road, turned it up, demanded silence of my friends and two minutes and fifty-six second later knew that God had spoken to me through the Four Tops' "Reach Out, I'll Be There," a record that I will cherish for as long as [I] live.

During those often lonely years, music was my constant companion and the search for the new record was like a search for a new friend and new revelation. "Mystic Eyes" open mine to whole new vistas in white rock and roll and there were days when I couldn't go to sleep without hearing it a dozen times.

Whether it was a neurotic and manic approach to music, or just a religious one, or both, I don't really care. I only know that, then, as now, I'm grateful to the artists who gave the experience to me and hope that I can always respond to them.

The records were, of course, only part of it. In '65 and '66 I played in a band, the Jellyroll, that never made it. At the time I concluded that I was too much of a perfectionist to work with the other band members; in the end I realized I was too much of an autocrat, unable to relate to other people enough to share music with them.

Realizing that I wasn't destined to play in a band, I gravitated to rock criticism. Starting with a few wretched pieces in Broadside and then some amateurish but convincing reviews in the earliest Crawdaddy, I at least found a substitute outlet for my desire to express myself about rock: If I couldn't cope with playing, I may have done better writing about it.

But in those days, I didn't see myself as a critic -- the writing was just another extension of an all-encompassing obsession. It carried over to my love for live music, which I cared for even more than the records. I went to the Club 47 three times a week and then hunted down the rock shows -- which weren't so easy to find because they weren't all conveniently located at downtown theatres. I flipped for the Animals' two-hour show at Rindge Tech; the Rolling Stones, not just at Boston Garden, where they did the best half hour rock'n'roll set I had ever seen, but at Lynn Football Stadium, where they started a riot; Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels overcoming the worst of performing conditions at Watpole Skating Rink; and the Beatles at Suffolk Down, plainly audible, beatiful to look at, and confirmation that we -- and I -- existed as a special body of people who understood the power and the flory of rock'n'roll.

I lived those days with a sense of anticipation. I worked in Briggs & Briggs a few summers and would know when the next albums were coming. The disappointment when the new Stones was a day late, the exhilaration when Another Side of Bob Dylan showed up a week early. The thrill of turning on WBZ and hearing some strange sound, both beautiful and horrible, but that demanded to be heard again; it turned out to be "You've Lost That Loving Feeling," a record that stands just behind "Reach Out I'll Be There" as means of musical catharsis.

My temperament being what it is, I often enjoyed hating as much as loving. That San Francisco shit corrupted the purity of the rock that I lvoed and I could have led a crusade against it. The Moby Grape moved me, but those songs about White Rabbits and hippie love made me laugh when they didn't make me sick. I found more rock'n'roll in the dubbed-in hysteria on the Rolling Stones Got Live if You Want It than on most San Francisco albums combined.

For every moment I remember there are a dozen I've forgotten, but I feel like they are with me on a night like this, a permanent part of my consciousness, a feeling lost on my mind but never on my soul. And then there are those individual experiences so transcendent that I can remember them as if they happened yesterday: Sam and Dave at the Soul Together at Madison Square Garden in 1967: every gesture, every movement, the order of the songs. I would give anything to hear them sing "When Something's Wrong with My Baby" just the way they did it that night.

The obsessions with Otis Redding, Jerry Butler, and B.B. King came a little bit later; each occupied six months of my time, while I digested every nuance of every album. Like the Byrds, I turn to them today and still find, when I least expect it, something new, something deeply flet, something that speaks to me.

As I left college in 1969 and went into record production I started exhausting my seemingly insatiable appetite. I felt no less intensely than before about certain artists; I just felt that way about fewer of them. I not only became more discriminating but more indifferent. I found it especially hard to listen to new faces. I had accumulated enough musical experience to fall back on when I needed its companionship but during this period in my life I found I needed music less and people, whom I spend too much of my life ignoring, much more.

Today I listen to music with a certain measure of detachment. I'm a professional and I make my living commenting on it. There are months when I hate it, going through the routine just as a shoe salesman goes through his. I follow films with the passion that music once held for me. But in my own moments of greatest need, I never give up the search for sounds that can answer every impulse, consume all emotion, cleanse and purify -- all things that we have no right to expect from even the greatest works of art but which we can occasionally derive from them.

Still, today, if I hear a record I like it is no longer a signal for me to seek out every other that the artist has made. I take them as they come, love them, and leave them. Some have stuck -- a few that come quickly to mind are Neil Young's After the Goldrush, Stevie Wonder's Innervisions, Van Morrison's Tupelo Honey, James Taylor's records, Valerie Simpson's Exposed, Randy Newman's Sail Away, Exile on Main Street, Ry Cooder's records, and, very specially, the last three albums of Joni Mitchell -- but many more slip through the mind, making much fainter impressions than their counterparts of a decade ago.

But tonight there is someone I can write of the way I used to write, without reservations of any kind. Last Thursday, at the Harvard Square theatre, I saw my rock'n'roll past flash before my eyes. And I saw something else: I saw rock and roll future and its name is Bruce Springsteen. And on a night when I needed to feel young, he made me feel like I was hearing music for the very first time.

When his two-hour set ended I could only think, can anyone really be this good; can anyone say this much to me, can rock'n'roll still speak with this kind of power and glory? And then I felt the sores on my thighs where I had been pounding my hands in time for the entire concert and knew that the answer was yes.

Springsteen does it all. He is a rock'n'roll punk, a Latin street poet, a ballet dancer, an actor, a joker, bar band leader, hot-shit rhythm guitar player, extraordinary singer, and a truly great rock'n'roll composer. He leads a band like he has been doing it forever. I racked my brains but simply can't think of a white artist who does so many things so superbly. There is no one I would rather watch on a stage today. He opened with his fabulous party record "The E Street Shuffle" -- but he slowed it down so graphically that it seemed a new song and it worked as well as the old. He took his overpowering story of a suicide, "For You," and sang it with just piano accompaniment and a voice that rang out to the very last row of the Harvard Square theatre. He did three new songs, all of them street trash rockers, one even with a "Telstar" guitar introduction and an Eddie Cochran rhythm pattern. We missed hearing his "Four Winds Blow," done to a fare-thee-well at his sensational week-long gig at Charley's but "Rosalita" never sounded better and "Kitty's Back," one of the great contemporary shuffles, rocked me out of my chair, as I personally led the crowd to its feet and kept them there.

Bruce Springsteen is a wonder to look at. Skinny, dressed like a reject from Sha Na Na, he parades in front of his all-star rhythm band like a cross between Chuck Berry, early Bob Dylan, and Marlon Brando. Every gesture, every syllable adds something to his ultimate goal -- to liberate our spirit while he liberates his by baring his soul through his music. Many try, few succeed, none more than he today.

It's five o'clock now -- I write columns like this as fast as I can for fear I'll chicken out -- and I'm listening to "Kitty's Back." I do feel old but the record and my memory of the concert has made me feel a little younger. I still feel the spirit and it still moves me.

I bought a new home this week and upstairs in the bedroom is a sleeping beauty who understands only too well what I try to do with my records and typewriter. About rock'n'roll, the Lovin' Spoonful once sang, "I'll tell you about the magic that will free your soul/But it's like trying to tell a stranger about rock'n'roll." Last Thursday, I remembered that the magic still exists and as long as I write about rock, my mission is to tell a stranger about it -- just as long as I remember that I'm the stranger I'm writing for.

[bettsfic]

I've just reread "Riptide". It's so good and heartbreaking ;-; are you still planning on writing that Kylux sequel or have you changed your mind? :) have a lovely evening!

i am going to be completely honest with you. i have started this fic over and over again. i don’t know what my hangup is. it’s all in my head. like. all of it. but i just can’t write it down.

here’s the most recent iteration:

The reality of the situation is this: Ben has just undergone a massive breakup with a girl named Rey. He cries all the time now. He lazes about watching action movies back to back even though the glare from the window obscures the screen. He writes lovelorn poetry sometimes on a goddamn typewriter whose keys clack loudly enough to rattle the house, and leaves the tattered shreds of it on the floor beside the trash can. A nest of potato chip bags, Oreos, empty beer cans, and tiny hot sauce bottles make a half-circle around his permanent perch on the couch. He smells. He’s annoying. He’s undisciplined. He’s crass and oblivious and pedantic and cruel and ignorant.

And Hux has been in love with him since they were fourteen years old.

Hux finds Ben’s hulking form curled onto a barstool in the kitchen, tiny iPhone in his massive paw, shoveling Honey Nut Cheerios into his mouth. He’s wearing a rumpled t-shirt and boxer shorts and his pores emanate whatever booze he consumed last night, likely enough to kill most of the population but just enough to put him to sleep.

Hux lumbers past, three-fourths still dozing, and says, “You’re not on the couch.”

This apparently does not warrant a reply. Hux fills the kettle with water, puts it on the stove, and flips the burner on. Ben did the dishes, it looks like--the counter is spotless except for the open box of cereal hiding Hux’s view of whatever Ben is doing on his phone.

It’s been a little over a month since Ben took up residence on Hux’s couch. And it’s not as if his presence is entirely unwelcome; Ben does have some redeeming qualities. He puts Hux’s dirty laundry in with his own and then folds it and puts it away. He pays for all the rented movies they watch with his mother’s emergency credit card (“She’s not going to notice three and four dollar charges,” he says, for the twelfth night in a row). He stays up late with Hux after the movie is over and they talk about it and whatever else until he has one too many beers and starts crying about Rey again, and Hux puts his grandmother’s afghan over him and goes to bed. Some nights after dinner, they sit on the porch and watch the fireflies bumble past while the sun sets, not saying anything at all. Ben cooks decently healthy meals compared to Hux’s norm of take-out, makes playlists for Hux on Spotify to introduce him to new music, and asks questions about, or happily listens to, Hux rant about his job. Ben is the only person alive that Hux knows--with every atom in his pitiful body--loves him.

Ben picks up the bowl and slurps the dredges of his milk. Hux leans against the counter waiting for the kettle to boil, arms over his chest, eying him.

“You look different,” Hux says.

Ben finally looks up at him over the cereal box. “How?”

“I don’t know. Something’s different about you.” Hux reaches over and plucks the cereal box out of the way. Ben slips his phone under the table, still doing something on it with one thumb, swiping one direction and occasionally the other.

“What are you doing?” Hux asks.

“Nothing,” Ben mutters.

“You’re never on your phone. You let it die between the couch cushions most days and I have to plug it in for you.”

“It’s nothing.”

Hux lunges forward and tries to grab the phone. A wrestling match ensues where Ben falls off the barstool onto the ground, Hux manages to straddle his stomach, all four hands are on the phone (which does not have a case because Ben is a fucking savage), and there’s maybe a bit of biting extremities involved. Eventually Ben rolls Hux to his back, and they’ve made their way to some dusty corner of the kitchen where Hux can feel cobwebs in his hair, but Ben’s hips are crushed between Hux’s legs (“Stop it, stop it, just give me my fucking--” “Let me see it, I just want to--”), and Hux realizes:

This is a very bad idea.

Ben seems to come to his own realization and freezes. For one glistening moment, a slat of light shines through the kitchen window into a simulacrum of glass, dusty specs dancing between them, and Ben’s hair is falling out of its ponytail around his face, and their eyes are locked, limbs tangled, wide-eyed and raw.

Then Ben’s face clouds over (or reddens?) and he lets go of the phone.

Victory. Hux presses the unlock button (no password, the idiot) and finds--

“Tinder?” Hux asks. “You’re on Tinder now?”

Ben, settled on his haunches, grabs the phone away from Hux again, who lets him have it. “I just. I need--something. I don’t know. I can’t handle this, okay. This--this emptiness.”

Ben. Ben Organa. Benjamin Lucas Organa. Ben, whose mother forces the most up-to-date iPhones into his hands for Christmas every year, who made a Facebook in 2013 at the insistence of his family and never uses it, who refuses to read eBooks because “paper books are important, Hux,” who only buys and listens to vinyl records except when fiddling with Hux’s Spotify account, who pluralizes “Twitters.” This is the man Hux sees before him, probably swiping right on girls who claim to be laid-back, adventurous, love to travel! Just looking for some fun!! Last pic is my dog!!!

Hux is about to say something when the kettle goes from a whistle to a scream. He climbs to standing, pajamas in twisted disarray, something crumbly falling down the back of his neck, and goes to the stove to take the kettle off the burner.

Once the kettle falls silent, Hux says, “You’re not going to find anyone on there.”

He takes a coffee cup down from the cupboard. Halfway to the counter, he notices Ben hasn’t replied. When he closes the cabinet door, he sees Ben scratching the back of his neck.

“You already have a date, don’t you,” Hux says.

Ben nods. The phone is on the table. It lights up but doesn’t make a sound. Ben picks it up and checks the message.

“What are you expecting, Ben? You’re going to bring her back here to Netflix and chill on my couch?”

Ben types a reply and then says, “No, we’re just grabbing a beer.”

“But--but what if she’s a psychopath? What if she’s luring you to her apartment where some dude twice your size is waiting with an axe to murder you and take your wallet? If you get kidnapped, I’m not paying your ransom. I’d have to take out another mortgage on the house. I’d--”

“And you think I’m obsolete? Jesus, Hux, welcome to the future, where people use the most convenient and readily available technology to find sexual gratification.”

Hux’s lips purse as he puts the filter in the pour-over lid and measures out a tablespoon of coffee.

“Just because you haven’t gotten laid in a thousand years doesn’t mean I have to restrict myself to the same fate,” Ben says.

“I’m not interested in one-night stands,” Hux says. He lifts the kettle and pours the steaming water over the grounds. “I’m looking for a connection, a spark. I’m looking for…” someone better for me than you, he thinks. And he’s not sure that’s possible.

The reality of the situation is this: Benjamin Lucas Organa is a heterosexual who has been in a long-term relationship for nearly as long as Hux has known him. In this time, Hux has dated mostly men but also the occasional woman or non-gender-conforming individual. He’s been on more double dates with Ben on Rey than he cares to count, and eventually in the last few years, dwindled into just hanging out with the two of them as what he perceived to be the third wheel at first, but was in actuality something like being in the presence of a relationship so codependent it was as if Ben and Rey were just two halves of one whole person. Hux never consciously took sides between them, but seeing as how Rey ran off to Europe for a while and Ben ended up on his couch, his loyalties now lie with Ben.

He’s been in love with Ben since the beginning--this beautiful ethereal boy with an uncanny sense of whimsy, an innocent obliviousness, endless love for the most mundane of things, it’s the way he sees the world, Hux thinks, years later, like everything is art--since the three of them were freshmen in homeroom together, and Hux has put up a long-suffering struggle against the feeling, the falling, the this is love, this is love, this is love. Only in the last few years has he given up that struggle, after relationship upon failed relationship where Hux expected his partners to live up to his adoration of his best friend yet fell miles short, and it just never seemed worth it to continue pursuing such a lost cause.

So he’s resigned himself, not to getting over Ben, but getting over the idea of romantic partnership. Curbing his want, like eating less overall so you don’t need to consume as much to feel full. He doesn’t need Ben’s heart, he thinks. He should be grateful enough to have him in his life at all, in any form that takes.

“Looking for what?” Ben asks. His thumb is poised over his phone, paused. Hux can see the glaring white smile of a blonde girl wearing a baseball cap and holding a pomeranian. Left? Right? Outside of Rey, Hux realizes he has no idea what Ben likes.

“I wish I knew.”

[cayleyshortstories]

The Oculus

Written by Joshua Tesoro & Illustrated by Bastin Agustines

Itadori Zoldyck spends his weekends in a small apartment playing video games all day. He can make his life "better," but he does not have the opportunity to demonstrate it. He excels at coding and technology in general. He made tons of inventions when he was still a kid and his parents always supported him, but he felt hopeless when they died. He lost both of his parents when he was very young, and he had to work a variety of jobs just to keep up with the bills and provide shelter for himself. Except for his goofy best friend Feitan Portor, he doesn't really have anyone. Despite his circumstance, he idolized Franklin Stark, the brilliant billionaire and CEO of the well-known tech firm Stark Industries. His friend invited him to a Stark Industries tech expo one day, and when Itadori learned that Franklin would be there, he agreed right away. Normally, he would refuse to attend any events, but this time, his idol, Franklin Stark, had approved it.

Itadori and Feitan were astounded by the technology and inventions they saw on the day of the expo. Jetpacks and flying cars were among the inventions that were being developed. The entire area has a futuristic vibe to it. Itadori was curious if he could make similar inventions, or if he could improve them. “You can make inventions like this, you know; I know you can because you're a genius in this field,” Feitan said suddenly to Itadori. “It's all this computer nerd stuff.” “Do you really believe that?” Itadori asked. I don't know how long it's been since my parents died; I've lost faith in myself and haven't had the chance to demonstrate my abilities to anyone.” “Well, you can begin by doing something you think is fantastic, and never forget to believe in yourself. You know how proud your parents were of you and all the things you've created.” Feitan remarked. Itadori smiled, knowing that his friend was always joking around, but he would always be there for him.

They were walking around the tech expo when Itadori realized he couldn't find his friend Feitan. He immediately dialed his phone number, but no one answered. He was searching for his friend when he noticed him passing through the restricted area. It was a small room with a large door in the center. He pursued him in an attempt to stop his friend. “What are you doing?” he exclaimed. You'll be discovered, and we'll be kicked out of the expo. You know how much I've wanted to meet Franklin for a long time.” “I'm sorry, I was just curious, you know, what kind of technology they were developing in this area,” she explained. Feitan replied. Aren't you a little intrigued? Let's take a quick look and then get out of here.” Feitan knew from Itadori's expression that he wasn't convinced and that his friend would drag them out, but then the big door opened and someone came running in the opposite direction. They had no choice but to enter the restricted area.

When they walked into the room, they noticed a large white circular portal. There were a lot of people watching and taking notes. What was that for, Itadori wondered. Itadori knew the portal was a portal to somewhere when it suddenly released a large blue energy and became active, but he didn't know where. He suspected it led to another dimension, but he wasn't sure if it was possible with today's technology. They were simply observing the scientists present when the portal abruptly shut down, sending a small shockwave through the room that knocked them to the ground. Itadori and Fetitan were also knocked out, and when they awoke, they were surrounded by guards with guns drawn. “What are you doing here?!,” one of the guards exclaimed. Aren't you aware that this is a restricted area? This is a government-approved top-secret experiment. You are not permitted to enter. Both of you should be arrested right now!” Itadori was taken aback and apprehensive at the same time. He was under pressure to figure out a way to get out of this situation, or he and his friend would be arrested and imprisoned, or worse, killed by one of the guards. He suddenly came up with a plan to save himself and his friend. The only way to save Feitan in his mind is for him to say, "I know how to fix the portal you're working on here. I am the best in my school and I also have a masters in Computer Science and Electrical Engineering." Suddenly, a well-dressed young man enters the room and says, “Let's give this boy a chance, shall we? He’ll be imprisoned if he’s bluffing.” Because of this young man, the rest of the room fell silent. Franklin Stark, the CEO of Stark Industries, was the one who made the announcement.

Itadori was so shocked and happy when he saw his idol. So shocked that he couldn’t move for a second. “So, show us what you got, kid. To help you, I’ll explain what we're doing here. That portal leads to another dimension, not to mention an advanced one. It’s so advanced that the technology there can either destroy our world or lead it into a new era. We tried so many tests, but the problem was not activating the portal, but rather sustaining it while someone was still inside. There has been a test where one of our employees was stuck there. Her name is Lucy Smith. She was our lead scientist and as I’ve mentioned our problem is to make the portal stay open long enough for us to get in and out safely. We tried everything to save the scientist but as you can see, we have no way of contacting her and we can’t go through the portal because of the problem.”, said Franklin. “So, kid, show me what you've got. “Assist us in saving this man and possibly dozens of others who could benefit from the technology from another dimension,” he added. Itadori was under pressure because he didn't know what to do at first, but now that he knew about the portal, he knew what to do. Using his technological skills and knowledge. He created a program to handle the massive amounts of energy and a power source to keep the portal running long enough for them to enter and exit to the other dimension. Franklin was blown away by Itadori's abilities. He was so taken aback that he told him, "Not bad, kid." Do you want to be a part of my team? You have a lot of potential to follow in my footsteps as a successful inventor.” Itadori felt relieved when he heard those words because he had accomplished his goal. He was the one who did it. Franklin's words had a similar effect on him. “All right, let's put it to the test, shall we?” Franklin said, "You two are going to the other dimension with me." When they heard what Franklin said, both of the teenagers were taken aback. “What are you saying?” Itadori exclaimed. We're just regular teenagers, you know. We are unable to travel to another dimension. “Don't you have anyone to help you with this?” “Look, kid, you've got a gift. Don't settle for anything less than the best. You have tremendous potential, and I want to take you to the other dimension with me so that we can develop technologies that will benefit humanity. Furthermore, this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance. Franklin responded, "Would you really waste it?" Feitan eventually persuaded his friend to travel to the other dimension. Franklin put together a team that included himself, Feitan, and Itadori. They'll have two more people monitoring the portal to see how much time they have before the power source needs to be recharged. “See you on the other side, my friend,” Feitan said as he entered the portal. Itadori grinned and greeted Feitan with a smile. They saw a large white light after entering the portal and were astounded by what they saw. It was truly a futuristic metropolis. There are flying cars everywhere, and even the trains are floating. Humanoid robots were seen casually assisting the people around them. They ventured deeper into the city in the hopes of uncovering information about Lucy's whereabouts. So far, they've relied solely on advanced technologies to locate Lucy. There is a device that allows you to view the security cameras installed throughout the building. You can even identify the individual who was caught on camera. However, after receiving the device, Itadori noticed a mysterious woman staring at them. She fled after attempting to confront the woman. They were chasing the woman down a small alley when they were suddenly approached by some evil humanoid robots who attempted to hit them. They were about to be cornered when the woman they were chasing suddenly assisted them in stopping the humanoid robot by temporarily disabling it.

Itadori then inquired as to the identity of the woman, to which she replied, "I am Lucy Smith, and I thought you were one of the guys chasing me." When I saw Mr. Franklin here, I immediately returned.” “We've come to gather some data to aid in the development of technology for our world, and, of course, to save you,” Franklin explained. Lucy explained that she is attempting to hide from the people present because they are aware that he is from another dimension. Lucy added, "They call themselves the Eternals." Lucy explained that they live in an advanced civilization where there are no wars or suffering, and only one government. She didn't say anything about stealing a valuable piece of technology from them, the Oculus. The Oculus is a cube of pure energy capable of destroying an entire world. Lucy isn't really a bad guy; she wants to use the cube to generate an infinite amount of energy that will benefit the entire world. Many people in the other dimension will suffer, however, because when the oculus leaves the other dimension, it will unleash a powerful shock wave that will destroy the entire dimension and its inhabitants. When they were about to leave the other dimension, Itadori noticed a glowing blue light from the bag. He immediately approached Lucy and asked what it was. Lucy, having been exposed, tried to talk it out but Feitan was skeptical about it. He told Itadori and Franklin that she was up to no good. After hearing this, Franklin approached Lucy and asked her to give her the bag. She refused. After that, Franklin became suspicious of Lucy as well and tried to take the bag from her. When Lucy noticed Franklin was becoming suspicious, she dashed to the portal. The three of them chased her down, but just as Itadori was about to catch up to her, she threw a grenade at him, knocking him down. When Feitan realized what had happened, he immediately called Franklin and told him to save Itadori and enter the portal. He intended to take Lucy on by himself. Someone grabbed Lucy's feet as she approached the portal, preventing her from passing through. Feitan was the culprit. Feitan tried everything he could to keep Lucy away from the portal so Franklin could get Itadori to safety. Franklin was well aware that Feitan would put his life on the line for his best friend. That was crystal clear to him. Franklin entered the portal just as it was about to close. Lucy escaped Feitan's clutches and kicked him away, allowing her to pass through the portal as well. The other dimension, along with Feitan and his companions, exploded when the cube exited the other dimension. After the three of them escaped through the portal, Franklin confronted Lucy and asked what had happened. The other dimension was destroyed as a result of the cube, Lucy explained. She continued, "When the cube exits the other dimension, it will unleash a massive shock wave that will destroy everything in its path." Franklin couldn't believe Feitan, along with the other inhabitants of the alternate dimension, had died. Feitan was supposed to be trapped in another dimension, but he is actually dead. He was concerned about Itadori's reaction to his best friend's death. He had no idea Itadori had heard everything; he was unable to move due to the grenade's damage. He was furious with himself because he believed it was his fault that Feitan had to make the sacrifice. Franklin questioned Lucy about why she had done it. “It was for our world,” Lucy explained, “because this cube has unlimited energy and can develop futuristic technologies.” Even if it means killing dozens of people in the process, I would gladly do it. There can be no victory without sacrifice.” Itadori was enraged when he learned of this. What Lucy said disgusted him greatly. “Don't you dare make my best friend's life seem insignificant!” he exclaimed. Not to mention the billions of people you've murdered!” Given his circumstances, Franklin was surprised to learn that Itadori can communicate. Lucy smirked and giggled as she heard Itadori's words. Itadori used all of his remaining strength to stand

up when he heard her laugh. He inquired about Lucy's plans. “Fine, I'll tell you about my cube plans,” she replied. I'll construct a power container to store the cube's energy and use it to develop technologies that will make me one of the world's greatest scientists, capable of assisting dozens of people all over the world. Don't you see what I'm talking about? This cube is going to save the world! Itadori and Franklin attempted to fight her, but she possesses a device that allows her to easily knock people out. She was able to flee. Itadori and Franklin stood up and talked about what had happened. Itadori told Franklin about how much of a good friend Feitan was. He was furious with himself for being so frail in the other dimension. Franklin cheered him up by telling him that he was not to blame. He also needs to stop Lucy if he doesn't want his friend's death to be in vain. It was Itadori's mission to stop Lucy when he realized this. He was the only one with the knowledge to stop Lucy’s plan so Franklin went to him for help. He went to Stark Industries right away and used their technology to find Lucy. They eventually found Lucy after hours of searching and devised a strategy to apprehend her. Because they don't know much about the Oculus and only know that it's dangerous, Itadori devised a strategy to prevent Lucy from using it. Lucy was in a Stark Industries facility that had been abandoned, but some of the technology and cameras were still operational. Itadori first devised a method of hacking into the facility so that Lucy would be unaware of their presence. Franklin and Itadori discussed what they would do to Lucy once they had stopped her on their way to her. For a while, Itadori remained silent. “As much as I hate her for killing my friend, I can't kill her,” he said suddenly. I don't want to do it. Perhaps there is still a way to persuade her that what she is doing is wrong. So, Mr. Franklin, here's the deal. When we arrive at the facility, I'd like you to leave me alone with her. Stay in the plane and keep an eye on us. If everything else fails, press this button. When Lucy said she was going to build a power container for the Oculus, I knew I had to do something about it, so I built this device that can hack into any device. It will be able to stop Lucy's plan once you press that button.” Franklin was surprised to learn that Itadori had already devised a plan to stop Lucy, but he was determined to persuade her. Franklin stayed on the plane after arriving at the facility, as Itadori had requested.

Itadori and Lucy finally confronted each other. Lucy was taken aback when she saw Itadori approaching her from across the hall. Lucy stated, "You've got skills kid, I'll give you that." “Are you here to put a stop to it? I could kill you right now, but I've decided against it because you have potential. I don't want to squander it. As a result, I'll make you an offer. Join me, and together we can make a difference in the world. “Are you sure you don't want that?” “Lucy, I know we haven't spent much time together, but from what I've seen of you in the short time we've interacted, I know you are a good person,” Itadori replied. You want to help others, but your methods are ineffective. It is not worth it to put other people's lives on the line for the sake of progress. You have the ability to change the world, but this isn't the way to do it.” Lucy was taken aback by Itadori's continued attempts to save her. She immediately remembered her past, recalling how she had been bullied as a child, but that someone had helped her and believed in her. “Don't worry about them; they're just envious of your abilities,” said the person. Don't let anyone put you down because you have the ability to change the world.” She realized all the mistakes she had made after recalling this. “You're right, Itadori, what have I done?” she exclaimed. All I wanted was for the good of the world because I want to make it a better place. When I was a kid, someone believed in me, but will he be proud of me now that he knows what I've accomplished?” After saying this, a massive explosion erupted from the cube. “It is not too late to save other people,” Itadori told her. “Assist me in putting a stop to this.” Lucy knew there was no stopping the cube now, and the power container couldn't handle it, which Itadori didn't know. There was only one thing she could think of as a solution. She instructed Itadori to hack into the Stark Industries mainframe. She only said that so Itadori could flee for his life. She intends to make a self-sacrifice in order to stop the cube and undo everything she has done. She then called Franklin to warn him to stay away from the facility and to offer her body to be mixed with the cube. She can control the cube to some extent with this. Then there was a massive blue explosion. Itadori and Franklin had escaped harm's way. Itadori tried to go to Lucy's location after realizing what had happened, but his wounds from the grenade were still present, and he was knocked out due to the shock. Itadori awakens in a white room where Franklin has been waiting for him. Itadori tried to stand up because he remembered what had happened and felt guilty for not being able to help Lucy. “It wasn't your fault, Itadori; in fact, you were the one who made Lucy realize what she had done and she changed her ways,” Franklin said. She gave up her life for the sake of humanity.” Lucy's need to sacrifice herself made Itadori a little sad. “You fool, stop moping around. “After you're completely healed, you've got a lot of things to do,” a rambunctious adolescent said. When Itadori heard the teenager's voice, he was both pleased and surprised. Feitan was the culprit. Everything Lucy had done had been restored. Everyone in the alternate dimension was also alive. The reason why the other dimension exploded when the Oculus left the dimension is because they needed the energy to keep the balance. When Lucy mixed her DNA with the cube, she had restored the other dimension along with all the people that were killed because of the cube. When she was in the other dimension, she saw Feitan and at first, Feitan didn't remember what happened. He tried to fight Lucy but when Lucy explained everything to him, he immediately helped her to bring the Oculus back to its original place. They encountered the authorities in the other dimension, and Feitan tried to explain Lucy’s side and what had happened. After this, the authorities took the cube and Lucy was still punished because she stole the cube from the other dimension. She had already accepted this and was ready to

sacrifice herself for the peace of everyone. Feitan helped the people in the other dimension to restore what had been lost. In return, they taught Feitan their technology and how to utilize it. Following that, Franklin sought the help of Itadori and Feitan to study the cube and develop other technologies that would benefit the world.

____________________________________________________

ILLUSTRATION EXPLANATION:

This is the analysis and appreciation for the short story titled "The Oculus". It shows two people in front of a portal looking at a futuristic city with floating cars, trains, buildings, and a large tower with a blue light-emitting from it. The two people near the portal are the two main characters Itadori and Feitan. This image shows the scene in which they traveled to the other dimension in search of the assistant of Mr. Stark which is Lucy Smith. She is hinted from the many digital screens with the silhouette of a wanted person who came from another dimension. The illustration also shows that the dimension they traveled to is more advanced than theirs and that it has many technological advancements that they could learn from. The tower at the back is where the oculus is kept. It can be a kind of foreshadowing because the thing inside that tower is crucial to the progression of the story. This image shows the characters, setting, and the main plot points of the story whilst not revealing the plot itself.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

I'VE BEEN PONDERING FIRM

If you start a startup one day, what should you do in college if you want to know the answer. The non-gullible majority won't stop getting spam until they can stop or threaten to stop the gullible from responding to it. Lots of startups that cause stampedes end up flaming out in extreme cases, partly as a result of this new type of venture firm? It would be great if more Americans were trained as programmers, but no startups came out. There's no manipulation in that.1 If we were talking about Europe in 1000, or most of the world's history the main route to wealth. Startups in other places are just doing what startups naturally do: fail.

Can we claim founders are better off as a result of arbitrary decisions from higher up. That becomes an end in itself, possibly more important than programmer productivity, in applications like network switches.2 Which means if the qualities that make them good programmers. So many of the things they wanted with their own hands.3 And so when we see increasing differences in income in a rich country, there is a Laffer curve for government power, just as for tax revenues.4 The problem is not simply that you can't do as well before or after, like plunge deeply into projects on a whim and travel super cheaply with no sense of a deadline. Their houses are in different neighborhoods, or if in the same problem, they start to succeed at raising money.5 If there are tensions between cofounders we help sort them out. Before us, seed funding came primarily from individual angel investors. So readability-per-line probably is for the programmer. Though they're often clueless about technology, most investors are pretty good at reading people.6

Another advantage of ramen profitability is that it's good for morale. What this means is that we are never likely to have accurate comparisons of the relative power of programming languages, while generating the kind of turbulent and ambitious people you find now in America. So I'd like to suggest an additional feature to those working on spam filters: a punish mode which, if turned on, would spider every url in a suspected spam n times, where n could be set by the user. As this example suggests, the rate at which technology increases our productive capacity is probably polynomial, rather than carry a single unnecessary ounce. Some arrive feeling sure they will ace Y Combinator as they've aced every one of the motives on the FBI's list.7 The kids see to that. Google guys were lucky because they knew someone who knew Bechtolsheim. The antidote is people. Which is pretty exciting, considering the bimodal distribution of outcomes in startups: you either fail or make a lot of development over the past couple decades.8

Notes

Spices are also the highest price paid for a slave up to two of the most successful companies have been the fastest to hire any first-rate programmers. But in most high schools. You can't assume that not being accepted means we think we're as open as one could reasonably be with children, with smiles and laughter. I managed to screw up twice at the mercy of circumstances in the 1980s was enabled by a big chunk of this desirable company, though it's at least once for that might work is a great discovery often seems obvious in retrospect.

The solution for this to some founders who'd taken series A in the next downtick it will probably frighten you more inequality.

Probably just thirty, if you don't know enough about the qualities of these limits could be made. That can be compared, per capita income in England in 1750 was higher than India's in 1960.

Successful founders are effective.

But the money right now. It's hard to say that education in the startup isn't getting market price if they make money, then add beans don't drain the beans, and we did not become romantically involved till afterward. They might not have raised money on Demo Day pitch, the initial investors' point of view anyway.

The ramen in ramen profitable refers to instant ramen, which are a handful of VCs who can say I need to do sales yourself initially. 6% of the things startups fix.

They may not be to say they were saying scaramara instead of themselves. I made because the illiquidity of progress puts them at the leading advisor to King James Bible is Pride goeth before destruction, and a few critical technical secrets. Record labels, for example, you're using a degenerate case of the definition of important problems includes only those on the relative weights?

Francis James Child, who adds the cost of writing software goes up more than determination to create wealth in a startup is taking the Facebook that might be tempted, but there has to be good at generating your own mind about whether a suit would violate the patent pledge, it's easy for small children to consider how low this number could be made. This suggests a good idea to make it to them to go to work in a world with antibiotics or air travel or an electric power grid than without, real income statistics calculated in the angel round from good angels over a certain way, I didn't realize it yet or not, don't make their money if they stopped causing so much better that you have to get going, e. This is not to quit their day job writing software.

Thanks to Trevor Blackwell, Eric Raymond, Jessica Livingston, Fred Wilson, and Patrick Collison for inviting me to speak.

[ramajmedia]

Kingdom Of The White Wolf Interview | Screen Rant

National Geographic photographer and explorer Ronan Donovan talks with Screen Rant about his journey to the arctic for the three-part event series Kingdom of the White Wolf. The series provides an unprecedented look into the lives of some extraordinary animals, as Donovan gets up close and personal with a species integral to the Arctic’s complex eco system, and also one that is misunderstood, or perhaps not understood enough. The result is a series that turns its subjects into real characters and their survival into one of the most compelling narratives on TV. 

But Kingdom of the White Wolf is more than another nature documentary. By making Donovan and his photography a central part of the series itself, the program becomes a hybrid of sorts, fusing top-notch filmmaking with some truly gorgeous photographs, captured while the series itself unfolds. As such, Kingdom of the White Wolf offers a fascinating viewing experience, one that simultaneously tells the story of a pack of white wolves and the individual documenting them. 

More: This Way Up Review: A Sweet, Sad, & Funny Look At Starting Over

In addition to speaking with Donovan to hear firsthand how the series came together, Screen Rant has two exclusive clips from the series. The first demonstrates how the wolves communicate, with their familiar and seemingly pensive howls. The second, offers a rare glimpse at a wolf pack forming and becoming a formidable hunting party. As Donovan notes, the predators are put in a strange predicament where, in order to eat, they must first venture into harm’s way. Check out the pack formation and wolf calls clips below, along with the interview with National Geographic Explorer Ronan Donovan. 

I wanted to start off by congratulating you on having the coolest job in the world. I also wanted to ask, is that notion difficult to process when you're out there actually doing what I assume is the difficult work of exploring and documenting nature in this way?

I mean the actual work is very hard, like physically, emotionally demanding. I mean, this last assignment in the Arctic, I tore the meniscus in both my knees throughout the assignment. The first one in my left knee in the first month of the project. I just had to walk it off and get on with it. And then I tore the second knee like three weeks before the end. I knew I did awful things to them, but I didn't really have much of an option to get help or stop working, because I had a lot of pressure on myself. So you know, it's a common sentiment that it's like, you know, this is a really amazing job, but it also has its great challenges as well. And that was definitely one of them for this last assignment.

How long are you actually out there following these subjects and what does that experience give you in terms of understanding these animals in their habitat? And then conversely, what do you learn about yourself when you're out there? 

Just following the animals and the subjects, the set up was, essentially there were two other guys on the team and we had a base camp that we set up that was about 20 miles away from the core range of this main pack of wolves. And so basically we had four wheelers to be able to keep up with the wolves, as well as carry the equipment, you know 150 pounds of equipment. Food, tent, your sleeping stuff and then another two full gas tanks in fuel cans to be able to keep up. So everything dictated how much the wolves were going to move. I had about 250 miles that I could get out of all the gas that I had in the machine that I would carry. 

You could do three or four days typically, because the wolves would just travel and then you'd have to make sure you didn't run out of fuel before you got back to camp. The longest day was 65 miles following the wolves continuously, while they hunted over the course of 40 hours. And that was the longest day that I did out there and it was just utterly exhausting. You know the sun's up the whole time. So you have this weird kind of ball of energy that never sets, and that's backed by all the continuous movement. You're on this machine, you're not sitting down, you're in the horse riding stance, getting bucked around on awful terrain. So you can't exactly fall asleep. It's not like driving a car where I could never last more than 20 hours driving a car straight because you're comfortable and you fall asleep.

The machine and the pace and following the wolves just keeps you up; it propels you to keep going. And they're hunting and you're having to try to document that, because it's one of the peak physical, mental evolutionary aspects of the animal's life that makes them what they are, and you're trying to capture all this. So that was what would keep me up and driving and doing horrible things to my body. What I learned about myself from doing this project is some of the things that make me really good at my job, which is kind of a stubborn drive to achieve and succeed and document and share these animal stories. That stubborn drive is also ... it can be a bit self-defeating in the sense that self care is really challenging, I think, on these longterm field projects. Just the physical aspects of it. I've harped on that a lot, but it's ... For this assignment it was by far the hardest all around and most demanding, physically and emotionally.

Additionally, I've never done television before and there was a lot of pressure involved; people went to bat for me a lot on this project, to give me this opportunity. It's big budgets. There's obviously big expectations and so there was a lot of that in my mind throughout. But that was interspersed with these incredible wildlife moments where you get to witness an animal that's rarely seen by anyone and even more rarely seen in its relaxed state, essentially just being wild wolves and ignoring my presence the whole time. And that was just an incredible opportunity and treat to be able to have that experience.

It's incredibly interesting watching the way the wolves were aware of you being there but didn't seem to really react to you all that much. Can you talk about the process of following the wolves around and getting to know them individually, and eventually earning their trust enough that you can insert yourself into situations they're in without distracting them from what they're trying to do? 

Initially, locating wolves, you're trying to find a wolf den. We used a helicopter for that process, just trying to cover a bunch of ground looking for these green patches in the landscape, which are indicative of a den that's been fertilized by urine and feces for hundreds of years on a pretty barren tundra desert-like landscape that doesn't have very much in the way of nutrients. So the wolves, just by being there and creating a den, create this lush little Eden spot on what's typically a brown landscape. So you find the den and then maybe it'll be active, maybe not. In this case, in the first episode, all the dens we found were all iced in and there were no wolves.

That added a freakout of like, 'Oh gosh, I just said I could do this project, that I can find wolves, and I can't.' And then once we did find a den with pups, it was in this far away valley, and it was pretty sandy soil, so it must not have had the same weather event. The rain event didn't affect it and it wasn't frozen in. That's why they were able to use that den. After that, it was just... gaining their trust is just a series of neutral encounters with them, because there's nowhere to hide, you're not trying to sneak up. It's not like you're sitting in a blind or a hide, which is typical of some of the other wildlife work where you're actually trying to keep yourself hidden. 

You just present yourself and they react accordingly. They're going to be curious probably about what you're doing because they've never been shot at or they've never had a negative encounter with people. Some of the wolves maybe have never seen people, especially the younger ones, at least the pups. They have no reason to fear anything other than other wolves and the occasional polar bear. So therefore, they're going to be curious about anything else. So that's how they saw me. And that's how they see humans as just kind of this interesting third animal in a landscape. We're not a threat, we're not seen as prey; we're just kind of another animal out there in some ways. It's a fascinating perception of what wolves think of humans in this part of the Arctic. They're not scared of us and they don't see us as prey.

Much of the first episode delves into the ways in which the pack has a social dynamic and cares for one another or shows affection toward one another. It also underlines the role that the wolves play in maintaining the ecosystem around them. In what way do you think the series will help dispel some misconceptions about these wolves and help create a new image for them? 

Yeah, I mean the main goal is to showcase a wild family of wolves that can exist in its own ecosystem, its own place, be a positive force in the landscape and have no negative encounter with people. Which is the honest story about how wolves have lived for tens of thousands of years and that it's only in recent times in human history where we as humans started to domesticate the animals that wolves prey on: sheep, goats, cattle. And then we came into conflict with the wolves because we wanted to eat the same thing. And so, on Ellesmere Island, there're no people who live there and raise livestock, and there is no competition with human hunters there, which is another conflict of the wolf/human relationship. And so it's this really exciting place just to show what wild wolves are like, without this haze, this cloud of human interaction. 

What I hope people will take away from it is seeing how intimate wolves can be among themselves, just in their family structure. How sweet they are to the pups, how sweet they are with each other. They have need to communicate and cooperate in order to achieve something together that they can't do on their own, which is why people live in social groups, because we can do greater things as a group than we can on our own. Trying to highlight those similarities, which is kind of the first step in empathy and understanding that humans are capable of when we're trying to understand other people, other cultures, and extending that into animals as well. 

You were out there for quite some time documenting these wolves, and I'm sure you had a lot of experiences that maybe didn't make the actual final cut of the series. For you personally, what was the most surprising thing you came across in the process of making this series and in your time documenting these wolves? 

One of the most incredible experiences and striking that didn't make it in, was the longest follow day where it was, 40 hours straight and 65 miles that we covered. This was after the matriarch female had disappeared from the pack, so the pack was in a little bit of disarray. They waited around for a number of days to see if she'd come back, and they got hungry so they had to go out and hunt. They brought the pups along that were about 12 weeks old at that time. And they went on this 65-mile jaunt, which is a really long way for little pup legs, and the adults were exhausted and the pups were dragging behind, whimpering and howling while they're running, and having this really, really hard experience. 

Later, the adults were hunting multiple herds of muskox, just testing them and failing. One of the wolves actually got smashed and steamrolled and stampeded, before getting up and trying to find another herd of muskox to test. And this was over 40 hours. They killed two Arctic hares that the adults wouldn't share with the pups because the adults were ravenous at that point. And kind of the code is: if the adults don't eat then there's no way the pups are going to get food. So the adults have to be strong and healthy in order to find more food for the pups. 

Then there was this really tense moment where [the wolves] went from sea level up to 2,500 feet over this mountain dropdown, this dramatic icy chute on the edge of this mountain. I thought they all died because it was ice. I couldn't follow them. It took me an hour and a half to get around the mountain to get back to them. I was thinking that at least a few of the pups must have died in this avalanche chute, basically. But I found them again, and they were all just curled up sleeping and taking a nap. They were totally fine.

That was just one of the most impressive feats of animal physical fitness, as well as seeing how they stay together as a cohesive pack. They didn't leave any pups behind. They didn't leave any other adults behind. They stayed together through a really challenging session and eventually they made another kill a couple of days later and had a really good feed. That was kind of heartwarming to think that they were able to keep going and function as a pack without their matriarch. 

One of the things that's really interesting about this series, is that it;s about the wolves, but on another secondary level, you and your photography become another aspect of the story. How does that work and how do you balance directing the audience and becoming a part of the story in this way. How does that work for you? 

Yeah, I mean that's not my happy place I would say [laughs]. This whole project came out of my wanting to do a magazine story as a photographer for National Geographic Magazine. The editor that I've worked with my entire five years at National Geographic, said to me, 'I would love to do this story. We just no longer have the budget to do this.' She said, "But you know, TV has those budgets. They're right across the hall. Let's go over and see what's possible.' So this whole project came out of our desire, myself and the editor, to do a magazine story, a photography story. And then it went through a couple of iterations and they asked would if I would be willing to go up there with a big crew and do this whole production and all this, and that's not the way to do it. 

So they turned that down and then eventually they asked if I would be willing to be on camera as one of the characters and be filmed doing the process. And I agreed. But you know, I never aspired to do television, to be on TV. I don't own a TV. I don't watch Nat Geo WILD. It's not like it was this goal of mine, to always do something like this. I wanted to tell the story of wild wolves, but I realized that television is the widest audience for consuming these types of wildlife stories. I wish the magazine had more of a following than it currently does, but that's just the nature of print media. And so I saw an opportunity in agreeing to be on camera and to be filmed doing my process as a photographer and filmmaker as a way to reach a wider audience.  

One of the hardest balances for me in this project  was that I'm also a wildlife cameraman, so I filmed half of the natural history for this series. And trying to juggle photographing for the magazine - because there's a story out in the current [September 2019] issue on the wolves - then also having to film for this TV series was really hard. There was another full time dedicated director of photography up there, his role was to film me during the process and then also to film natural history. And so the two of us would kind of shift back and forth. But that was hard. That was hard for me. Additionally, I was by myself a lot, so I wasn't able to do side-by-side video and photo. As a result, there were several moments where I had to choose what it was going to be. 'Is this going to be a sequence of photos or going to be a sequence of film?' That was a balance that was hard for me. 

Where do you go from here? What is your next project that you're working on, if you are working on anything at the moment? 

Yeah, well the immediate project is going back and trying to find that same pack again, but in winter. I always wanted to go see the wolves in winter. The powers that be were cautious about that, and they wanted to do this initial round in the summer and to see how it goes. It really comes down to how well this show rates. If it does well then I am going to push to go back in winter because these Arctic wolves, they're white wolves, they evolved on a predominantly snowy white landscape and they're at their strongest in winter, when their prey, the muskox, are at their weakest. So I want to see that. I want to go up there when it's negative 30 in February and the sun is just coming up from the horizon for the first time in five months when the wolves have these big, huge, bushy winter coats, and they're hunting muskox, which are tired and weak and there's breath and blood and white landscape. It would would just be gorgeous. 

Next: The Righteous Gemstones Review: Pitch Perfect Performances Elevate An Overstuffed Premiere

Kingdom of the White Wolf premieres Sunday, August 25 @8pm on Nat Geo WILD.

source https://screenrant.com/kingdom-white-wolf-interview-ronan-donovan-nat-geo-wild/

[frankiefellinlove]

Jon Landau review of Bruce where he writes "...I've seen Rick n a Roll's future

The last few paragraphs gave me happy chills!

05.09.1974: Cambridge,MA

Opening for headliner Bonnie Raitt

Critic Jon Landau’s much-quoted “I saw rock and roll future and its name is Bruce Springsteen” line emanates from this night:

From The Real Paper,May 22 1974 GROWING YOUNG WITH ROCK AND ROLL

By Jon Landau

It’s four in the morning and raining. I’m 27 today, feeling old, listening to my records, and remembering that things were different a decade ago. In 1964, I was a freshman at Brandeis University, playing guitar and banjo five hours a day, listening to records most of the rest of the time, jamming with friends during the late-night hours, working out the harmonies to Beach Boys’ and Beatles’ songs.

Real Paper soul writer Russell Gersten was my best friend and we would run through the 45s everyday: Dionne Warwick’s “Walk On By” and “Anyone Who Had A Heart,” the Drifters’ “Up On the Roof,” Jackie Ross’ “Selfish One,” the Marvellettes’ “Too Many Fish in the Sea,” and the one that no one ever forgets, Martha Reeves and the Vandellas’ “Heat Wave.” Later that year a special woman named Tamar turned me onto Wilson Pickett’s “Midnight Hour” and Otis Redding’s “Respect,” and then came the soul. Meanwhile, I still went to bed to the sounds of the Byrds’ “Mr. Tambourine Man” and later “Younger than Yesterday,” still one of my favorite good-night albums. I woke up to Having a Rave-Up with the Yardbirds instead of coffee. And for a change of pace, there was always bluegrass: The Stanley Brothers, Bill Monroe, and Jimmy Martin.

Through college, I consumed sound as if it were the staff of life. Others enjoyed drugs, school, travel, adventure. I just liked music: listening to it, playing it, talking about it. If some followed the inspiration of acid, or Zen, or dropping out, I followed the spirit of rock'n'roll. Individual songs often achieved the status of sacraments. One September, I was driving through Waltham looking for a new apartment when the sound on the car radio stunned me. I pulled over to the side of the road, turned it up, demanded silence of my friends and two minutes and fifty-six second later knew that God had spoken to me through the Four Tops’ “Reach Out, I’ll Be There,” a record that I will cherish for as long as [I] live. During those often lonely years, music was my constant companion and the search for the new record was like a search for a new friend and new revelation. “Mystic Eyes” open mine to whole new vistas in white rock and roll and there were days when I couldn’t go to sleep without hearing it a dozen times.

Whether it was a neurotic and manic approach to music, or just a religious one, or both, I don’t really care. I only know that, then, as now, I’m grateful to the artists who gave the experience to me and hope that I can always respond to them. The records were, of course, only part of it. In ‘65 and '66 I played in a band, the Jellyroll, that never made it. At the time I concluded that I was too much of a perfectionist to work with the other band members; in the end I realized I was too much of an autocrat, unable to relate to other people enough to share music with them. Realizing that I wasn’t destined to play in a band, I gravitated to rock criticism. Starting with a few wretched pieces in Broadside and then some amateurish but convincing reviews in the earliest Crawdaddy, I at least found a substitute outlet for my desire to express myself about rock: If I couldn’t cope with playing, I may have done better writing about it.

But in those days, I didn’t see myself as a critic – the writing was just another extension of an all-encompassing obsession. It carried over to my love for live music, which I cared for even more than the records. I went to the Club 47 three times a week and then hunted down the rock shows – which weren’t so easy to find because they weren’t all conveniently located at downtown theatres. I flipped for the Animals’ two-hour show at Rindge Tech; the Rolling Stones, not just at Boston Garden, where they did the best half hour rock'n'roll set I had ever seen, but at Lynn Football Stadium, where they started a riot; Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels overcoming the worst of performing conditions at Watpole Skating Rink; and the Beatles at Suffolk Down, plainly audible, beautiful to look at, and confirmation that we – and I – existed as a special body of people who understood the power and the glory of rock'n'roll.

I lived those days with a sense of anticipation. I worked in Briggs & Briggs a few summers and would know when the next albums were coming. The disappointment when the new Stones was a day late, the exhilaration when Another Side of Bob Dylan showed up a week early. The thrill of turning on WBZ and hearing some strange sound, both beautiful and horrible, but that demanded to be heard again; it turned out to be “You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling,” a record that stands just behind “Reach Out I’ll Be There” as means of musical catharsis. My temperament being what it is, I often enjoyed hating as much as loving. That San Francisco shit corrupted the purity of the rock that I lvoed and I could have led a crusade against it. The Moby Grape moved me, but those songs about White Rabbits and hippie love made me laugh when they didn’t make me sick. I found more rock'n'roll in the dubbed-in hysteria on the Rolling Stones Got Live if You Want It than on most San Francisco albums combined.

For every moment I remember there are a dozen I’ve forgotten, but I feel like they are with me on a night like this, a permanent part of my consciousness, a feeling lost on my mind but never on my soul. And then there are those individual experiences so transcendent that I can remember them as if they happened yesterday: Sam and Dave at the Soul Together at Madison Square Garden in 1967: every gesture, every movement, the order of the songs. I would give anything to hear them sing “When Something’s Wrong with My Baby” just the way they did it that night. The obsessions with Otis Redding, Jerry Butler, and B.B. King came a little bit later; each occupied six months of my time, while I digested every nuance of every album. Like the Byrds, I turn to them today and still find, when I least expect it, something new, something deeply flet, something that speaks to me.

As I left college in 1969 and went into record production I started exhausting my seemingly insatiable appetite. I felt no less intensely than before about certain artists; I just felt that way about fewer of them. I not only became more discriminating but more indifferent. I found it especially hard to listen to new faces. I had accumulated enough musical experience to fall back on when I needed its companionship but during this period in my life I found I needed music less and people, whom I spend too much of my life ignoring, much more.

Today I listen to music with a certain measure of detachment. I’m a professional and I make my living commenting on it. There are months when I hate it, going through the routine just as a shoe salesman goes through his. I follow films with the passion that music once held for me. But in my own moments of greatest need, I never give up the search for sounds that can answer every impulse, consume all emotion, cleanse and purify – all things that we have no right to expect from even the greatest works of art but which we can occasionally derive from them.

Still, today, if I hear a record I like it is no longer a signal for me to seek out every other that the artist has made. I take them as they come, love them, and leave them. Some have stuck – a few that come quickly to mind are Neil Young’s After the Goldrush, Stevie Wonder’s Innervisions, Van Morrison’s Tupelo Honey, James Taylor’s records, Valerie Simpson’s Exposed, Randy Newman’s Sail Away, Exile on Main Street, Ry Cooder’s records, and, very specially, the last three albums of Joni Mitchell – but many more slip through the mind, making much fainter impressions than their counterparts of a decade ago.

But tonight there is someone I can write of the way I used to write, without reservations of any kind. Last Thursday, at the Harvard Square theatre, I saw my rock'n'roll past flash before my eyes. And I saw something else: I saw rock and roll future and its name is Bruce Springsteen. And on a night when I needed to feel young, he made me feel like I was hearing music for the very first time.

When his two-hour set ended I could only think, can anyone really be this good; can anyone say this much to me, can rock'n'roll still speak with this kind of power and glory? And then I felt the sores on my thighs where I had been pounding my hands in time for the entire concert and knew that the answer was yes.

Springsteen does it all. He is a rock'n'roll punk, a Latin street poet, a ballet dancer, an actor, a joker, bar band leader, hot-shit rhythm guitar player, extraordinary singer, and a truly great rock'n'roll composer. He leads a band like he has been doing it forever. I racked my brains but simply can’t think of a white artist who does so many things so superbly. There is no one I would rather watch on a stage today. He opened with his fabulous party record “The E Street Shuffle” – but he slowed it down so graphically that it seemed a new song and it worked as well as the old. He took his overpowering story of a suicide, “For You,” and sang it with just piano accompaniment and a voice that rang out to the very last row of the Harvard Square theatre. He did three new songs, all of them street trash rockers, one even with a “Telstar” guitar introduction and an Eddie Cochran rhythm pattern. We missed hearing his “Four Winds Blow,” done to a fare-thee-well at his sensational week-long gig at Charley’s but “Rosalita” never sounded better and “Kitty’s Back,” one of the great contemporary shuffles, rocked me out of my chair, as I personally led the crowd to its feet and kept them there.

Bruce Springsteen is a wonder to look at. Skinny, dressed like a reject from Sha Na Na, he parades in front of his all-star rhythm band like a cross between Chuck Berry, early Bob Dylan, and Marlon Brando. Every gesture, every syllable adds something to his ultimate goal – to liberate our spirit while he liberates his by baring his soul through his music. Many try, few succeed, none more than he today.

It’s five o'clock now – I write columns like this as fast as I can for fear I’ll chicken out – and I’m listening to “Kitty’s Back.” I do feel old but the record and my memory of the concert has made me feel a little younger. I still feel the spirit and it still moves me. I bought a new home this week and upstairs in the bedroom is a sleeping beauty who understands only too well what I try to do with my records and typewriter. About rock'n'roll, the Lovin’ Spoonful once sang, “I’ll tell you about the magic that will free your soul/But it’s like trying to tell a stranger about rock'n'roll.” Last Thursday, I remembered that the magic still exists and as long as I write about rock, my mission is to tell a stranger about it – just as long as I remember that I’m the stranger I’m writing for.