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#live theater junkies unite
irisbleufic · 4 months
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> Have trip to Boston, MA planned for May 31 - June 3 to see one of the preview performances of Florence Welch’s GATSBY musical premiere at American Repertory Theater on June 1.
> Having seen the touring company of Beetlejuice in Albuquerque, NM a mere week ago, musingly say, “I wonder where the tour is going next…”
> Look that shit up on a lark, find out they will be doing performances in Hartford, CT the same fucking weekend you’re already in New England anyway.
> Book round trip Peter Pan bus tickets Boston - Hartford and Beetlejuice tickets for June 2, day after GATSBY.
> Realize you will not sleep all weekend, do not even give AF.
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rametarin · 5 months
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Some US American Tankie: "THIS ISN'T WW3, IT'S JUST IMPERIALIST AMERIKKKA BULLYING POOW DEFENSEWESS WIDDLE SOCIAWIST BABY NATIONS AND BROWN PEOPLE, AGAIN. :CCCC STUPID WHITE SUPREMACIST FASCIST AMERIKKKAAAA!"
Some Eastern European: "Hey. Heeeeeeey. Yes fuck white supremacist evil stinkbad imperialist Amerikkka, but you tankies often defend the USSR and Russia! USSR were colonizers and imperialists too, but you weak westerners stan for it just because you hate Amerikkka!"
Hahaha. Yeah why do they do that, Sofia? It's almost like the imperialistic Russo-Supremacist Marxist totalitarian hellhole of Socialist republics and Russian satellite states ran around getting theater kids, smarmy pseudo-intellectuals, some bleeding heart intellectuals, counter culture creaks and junkies to run around screaming about how the USA is just a white supremacist colonial imperialist power, to contrast how they characterized themselves as anti-racist, anti-colonial, anti-inequality, or something. And you're still living in that funky, romantic bubble where the USA is just bad faith, greed and racism incarnate, while the other guy in the room is innocent to beneficent. The side closest to Russia is just burnt to char from exposure where what you imagined does not meet the reality. You're still parroting the brain dead rot that Russia used to positively publicize itself. You're still echoing the tankie and general leftist horse shit.
You're totally willing to buy into the rest of the Russian propaganda, just call out the stuff they say about Ukraine. Suddenly you can see through the bullshit and give nuance and contradiction to the party line when it affects YOU personally.
The facts are, Russia and agents/guerillas operating on behalf of Russia, or proxies operating on behalf of Russia, have been active across South America since Red Revolution was a thing. The people running around screaming about how the United States is a colonialist, occupying power are just the publicity wing for the red revolution sore losers, mad that there's any intervention there whatsoever.
And like complete god damned hypocrites, you can SEE, you KNOW the history of Russia doing that shit IN UKRAINE, and YOU HAVE THE AUDACITY to parrot Russia's disingenuous accusations and their sycophantic, tweed wearing burnt out Marxist faux-intellectual simps in every coffee bar or secret library of leftist repository literature across the world. You see your own situation as unique?! Get over yourself.
Fuck the curtain, pull it away. American "colonialism" since the Soviets became a thing, and a little before when socialist revolutionaries became cliches in beer and coffee houses internationally, has always been stopping Russian attempts to subvert, disrupt, suppress, bolshevize, destabilize and incite domestic takeovers across the world. Them screaming and reinterpreting history has always been the big game board equivalent of a dude cheating at cards getting mad when they're beaten at their own game, before banging the table, glaring at the USA and yelling, "YOU CHEATING FUCK! STOP GETTING IN MY WAY!!! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT STANDING UP TO ME!"
That's the tea. Fucking drink it and grow up. The last god damned CENTURY and change has been the USA sometimes subtly, sometimes overtly, getting in Imperialist Russia's way, spoiling their attempts at takeover and political and social and economic upheavel. And when it happens, they fire up the propaganda wing and scream, "America's being racist and colonialist again! Look!!" While omitting the dirty shit the USSR or unassociated socialist sympathizers are also trying to do.
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tonkifivestar · 2 years
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Iron addicts gym iron wars
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IRON ADDICTS GYM IRON WARS FREE
Washington, Newport 5:30 p.m., Women's Meeting (O, CW), Sweet Magnolia's Women's Sober House, 502 Fourth Ave., Sandpoint 7 p.m., Saturday Night Live (O, W), North Summit Church, 201 N. Close Encounters (O), AA literature study, Hospitality House, 216 S. Demos and game-offs drop-ins welcome.Īlcoholics Anonymous: 9 a.m., Attitude Adjustment (O, W), Church of God, 221 S. Free bagpiping, drumming and Highland dancing lessons for adults and children.įamily Game Day: 1 p.m., Creations on the Cedar Street Bridge ages 4 through adult. Info: Janet, 20Īlbeni Falls Pipes and Drums Band: 9 a.m., First Lutheran Church. Info.: Ĭardio Junkies: Sandpoint’s running club, 7 a.m., Joe’s Auto Body, Baldy Mountain Road. Lindsey Stirling: Festival at Sandpoint concert 6 p.m., gates open 7:30 p.m., music begins. Zach Simms: 5-8 p.m., Pend d’Oreille Winery, 301 Cedar St. Info.: īrother Music: flute music 5-7 p.m., Pend d'Oreille Winery, 301 Cedar St. Tickets are $10, Lake Pend Oreille Repertory Theatre event. "Peter Pan": 1:30 p.m., doors open 2 p.m., show begins Panida Theater, 300 N. Fly tying enthusiasts of varying expertise bring your own supplies. Info.: 20 or įly Tying Group: 1 p.m., Sandpoint Library, 1407 Cedar.
IRON ADDICTS GYM IRON WARS FREE
Hosted by Sandpoint Friends of the Library.įirst Free Saturday: 10 a.m.-2 p.m., Bonner County History Museum, 611 S. Used Book Sale: 10 a.m.-2 p.m., East Bonner County Library, Sandpoint branch, 1407 Cedar, 10 a.m. Boyer Road learn to milk a cow, ride a horse, learn to rope and much more. Rascal Rodeo: for those with special needs, but all welcome 10 a.m., Bonner County Fairgrounds, 4203 N. Fresh produce and more COVID-19 safety protocols in place. Sandpoint Farmers Market: 9 a.m.-1 p.m., Farmin Park, Third and Oak. Long Bridge Swim: 8 a.m., mandatory safety meeting, Sandpoint High School 9 a.m., swim starts. S.A.M.: “First Friday” gathering, 6:30 p.m., Cedar Hills Church, 227 McGhee Road. NARFE: National Association of Retired Federal Employees, 11:30 a.m., Connie’s. Discussion on “spiritual transformation.” Hosted by Linda Evans, Sandpoint Beguine Society. Table Talk: Public discussion group meeting, 7-9 p.m., Pie Hut, 502 Church St., Sandpoint. Narcotics Anonymous: 6 p.m., Sandpoint Church of God, 221 S. Recovery meeting for hurts, habits and hang-ups. Call 263-7621.Ĭelebrate Recovery: Sandpoint Church of the Nazarene, Highway 95 N dinner, 5:30 p.m. Also free parenting and Life Skills classes. Free pregnancy testing, obstetrical ultrasounds, counseling and baby needs. You can also call the District 14 AA Helpline at 1-80.Ĭrisis Pregnancy Center: From 10 a.m.-2 p.m., 502 N. For additional information about Alcoholics Anonymous and to get a list of online AA meetings, please go to. 7 p.m., Attraction Not Promotion (O, CW), Gardenia Center, Fourth and Church 7:30 p.m., Bonners Ferry Friday Night Group (O), United Methodist Church, 6568 Lincoln, Bonners Ferry. Catherine Catholic Church, 393 Summit Boulevard, Priest River 7 p.m., S.O.B.E.R. Info.: 219.barĪlcoholics Anonymous: 7 a.m., Attitude Adjustment (O, CW), Gardenia Center, Fourth and Church, Sandpoint 7 p.m., Dry River Rats, St. Live music: 9 p.m.-midnight, 219 Lounge, 219 N. Live music: 5-8 p.m., Pend d’Oreille Winery, 301 Cedar St. Berry: live acoustic music 5 p.m., Paddlers Alehouse, 100 Vermeer Drive. Joseph’s Soup Kitchen: Free dinner, Lincoln and Ontario, 4 p.m.-6 p.m., St. (north on Division near Baldy), 3:30-4:45 p.m. Teen Craft & Create Club: teen hangout for all things creative 1-3 p.m., East Bonner County Library District, Sandpoint branch, 1407 Cedar. Senior Meal: Clark Fork-Hope Area Senior Center, 11:30 a.m.ĭuplicate Bridge: 12:30 p.m., Clark Fork-Hope Area Senior Center, 10th and Cedar. Spiritual healing meditation service: 10:30 a.m.-noon, Gardenia Center, 400 Church St., Sandpoint. For first-time visit, call 20 to reserve a space. Sandpoint Senior Center breakfast: 8:30 a.m., Sandpoint Senior Center, 820 Main St. Sandpoint Rodeo: 7:30 p.m., Bonner County Fairgrounds, 4203 N. Ian Newbill: live music 7-9:30 p.m., Matchwood Brewing, 513 Oak St. Gregory Alan Isakov with the Shook Twins: Festival at Sandpoint concert 6 p.m., gates open 7:30 p.m., music begins. "Peter Pan": 4:30 p.m., doors open 5 p.m., show begins Panida Theater, 300 N. Summer String Academy family concert: free family event, 1-2 p.m., Sandpoint High School, 410 N. Summer Strings Festival: three-day music camp, runs through Aug. Editor’s note: If you would like to have your meeting or event shared with the community, please contact us at Aug.
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usashirtstoday · 4 years
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Bike If You're Not Crashing You're Not Trying Hard Enough T Shirt
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argunners · 5 years
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TITLE: Band of Brothers
This landmark miniseries based on Stephen E. Ambrose’s best-seller, and executive produced by Steven Spielberg and Tom Hanks, recounts the remarkable achievements of an elite team of U.S. paratroopers during World War II. This series tells the story of Easy Company of the U.S. Army 101st Airborne Division, 506th Regiment, and their mission in World War II Europe, from Operation Overlord, through V-J Day.
EPISODES: Band of Brothers
[junkie-toggle title=”Season 1″ state=”closed”]Episode 1: Currahee
In Toccoa, Ga., 1942, a disparate group of young men begins voluntary training to become members of one of America’s newest military regiments – the paratroopers. Under the harsh leadership of Lt. Sobel (David Schwimmer), members of the newly formed Easy Co. go from green civilians to some of the Army’s most elite soldiers. As training progresses, a rivalry flares between Sobel, whom the men despise, and Lt. Winters (Damian Lewis), a junior officer who’s earned the respect and admiration of the company.
Episode 2: Day of Days
On June 6, 1944, D-Day, planes with thousands of paratroopers cross the English Channel to France, where they come under heavy fire. None of the men land where they expected to, and many lose their weapons and supplies in the drop. Winters links up with solitary soldiers, and they set off to find their units. Winters (Damian Lewis) is later chosen to lead an attack on a fortified German artillery position; the mission is successful, but Winters, now acting company commander, loses his first man.
Episode 3: Carentan
Two days after D-Day, Easy Co. is sent to take the town of Carentan, engaging in a successful battle that results in several casualties. Some soldiers, including Pvt. Blithe (Marc Warren), have a difficult time adjusting to combat. After 36 days in Normandy and several fierce battles, Easy returns to England, but their celebrations are short-lived, as news comes that they’re moving out again.
Episode 4: Replacements
Due to heavy casualties, a group of fresh paratrooper replacements joins Easy Co. in time for a massive drop into German-occupied Holland for Operation Market-Garden. While met with no resistance in Eindhoven, Easy and a cluster of British tanks are repelled from a nearby town by a superior German force, sustaining many casualties as they retreat. The Allied plan to enter Germany through Holland and end the war before Christmas fails.
Episode 5: Crossroads
Winters (Damian Lewis) leads a risky mission on a Dutch dike, resulting in a resounding victory, for which he is promoted to Battalion Executive Officer. Dissatisfied with his new, largely administrative job, Winters is concerned about the leadership of the three companies he now commands. After a weekend pass to Paris, news arrives of a massive Axis effort in the Ardennes Forest, threatening to break the Allied lines. Easy Co. races in to hold the line, ill-equipped for the bitterly cold weather and the entrenched battle ahead.
Episode 6: Bastogne
In the dead of winter, in the forest outside of Bastogne, Belgium, the men of Easy Company struggle to hold the line alone while fending off frostbite and hunger, having arrived with no winter clothes and little supplies and ammunition. Medic Eugene Roe (Shane Taylor) is overwhelmed, on edge and close to combat exhaustion when he finds friendship with a Belgian nurse. Easy Co. spends a miserable Christmas in the trenches, and receives the news that the German army’s demand for surrender was met with Gen. McAuliffe’s defiant answer: “Nuts!”
Episode 7: The Breaking Point
Having thwarted the Germans at Bastogne, the exhausted Easy Co. must now take the nearby town of Foy from the enemy. Several are killed and wounded in fierce shelling, compounded by the incompetence of their commander, Lt. Dike (Peter O’Meara), about whom Winters (Damian Lewis) can do nothing. Easy takes Foy, but at an enormous cost.
Episode 8: The Last Patrol
Easy Co. arrives in the Alsacian town of Haguenau near the German border, and are ordered to send a patrol across the river to take enemy prisoners. Lt. Jones (Colin Hanks), fresh from West Point and eager for combat experience, volunteers to lead. While successful, the mission costs another paratrooper’s life, prompting Winters (Damian Lewis) to ignore the order to send a second patrol the next night.
Episode 9: Why We Fight
Easy Co. finally enters Germany, to surprisingly little resistance, and has a chance to relax for the first time in a long time. A patrol in a nearby forest discovers an abandoned Nazi concentration camp, still filled with emaciated prisoners. The local citizenry, unbelievably disavowing knowledge of its existence, is made to clean it up, as the news arrives that Hitler is dead.
Episode 10: Points
Once home to the top officers of the Third Reich, Easy Co. enters the Bavarian town of Berchtesgaden, and captures “Eagle’s Nest,” Hitler’s mountaintop fortress. Facing imminent deployment to the Pacific Theater, the men compare their “points” to see who has earned enough to go home. However, the Japanese surrender ends the war. A closing vignette tells what happened to the men of Easy Company after they returned home.
[/junkie-toggle]
IMAGES: Band of Brothers
DETAILS: Band of Brothers
Title Band of Brothers Country US Created by Tom Hanks, Steven Spielberg Cast Scott Grimes, Damian Lewis, Ron Livingston Language English, German, Dutch, French English Subtitles Yes
CAST:
Damian Lewis as Major Richard “Dick” Winters
Scott Grimes as Technical Sergeant Donald Malarkey
Ron Livingston as Captain Lewis Nixon
Donnie Wahlberg as Second Lieutenant Carwood Lipton
Shane Taylor as Technician Fourth Grade Eugene “Doc” Roe.
Frank John Hughes as Staff Sergeant William “Wild Bill” Guarnere
Michael Cudlitz as Staff Sergeant Denver “Bull” Randleman
Neal McDonough as First Lieutenant Lynn “Buck” Compton
David Schwimmer as Captain Herbert Sobel
Dexter Fletcher as Staff Sergeant John “Johnny” Martin
Kirk Acevedo as Staff Sergeant Joe Toye
Matthew Settle as Captain Ronald Speirs
Eion Bailey as Private First Class David Kenyon Webster
James Madio as Technician Fourth Grade Frank Perconte
Colin Hanks as First Lieutenant Henry S. Jones
Rick Gomez as Technician Fourth Grade George Luz
Rick Warden as First Lieutenant Harry Welsh
Douglas Spain as Technician Fifth Grade Antonio C. Garcia
Ross McCall as Technician Fifth Grade Joseph Liebgott
Richard Speight, Jr. as Sergeant Warren “Skip” Muck
Rene L. Moreno as Technician Fifth Grade Joseph Ramirez
Marc Warren as Private Albert Blithe
Dale Dye as Colonel Robert Sink
REVIEW: Band of Brothers
WATCH: Band of Brothers
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Band of Brothers (2001) TITLE: Band of Brothers This landmark miniseries based on Stephen E. Ambrose's best-seller, and executive produced by Steven Spielberg and Tom Hanks, recounts the remarkable achievements of an elite team of U.S.
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tamboradventure · 4 years
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Philanthropy & Travel: How One Business Is Giving Back w/FLYTE
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Posted: 9/15/2020 | September 15th, 2020
This year, FLYTE, our nonprofit, celebrates its five-year anniversary! We launched it in the summer of 2015 with nothing more than a desire to help kids see the world, discover a love of travel, and learn the practical applications of their education.
In the past half-decade, we’ve sent 70 students to five countries all over the world!
Thinking about this milestone has made me reflect on why I started this nonprofit.
When we leave our comfort zone, we’re confronted with many of the world’s problems.
One of the most powerful and challenging lessons that travel teaches us is how unequal the world can be. Seeing an impoverished child begging on the street makes you reflect on colonization, war, and the systemic inequalities that cause poverty.
Likewise, venturing underwater only to see dead coral reefs or struggling to breathe in cities enveloped in smog makes climate change even more real.
Yet travel also brings us closer together. It reminds us of our shared humanity and provides a platform for our own personal growth and development.
Travel has shown me my privilege but also my power to do something to make the world a better place.
It’s for that reason that I created FLYTE.
Many kids don’t have access to opportunities that can help them see beyond their current situation.
Through these FLYTE trips, we’re working to give students the chance to see how incredible our world is — and to remind them they have the power to change it for the better. I want FLYTE to be a chance for them to see the world beyond the stereotypes, to put their education to use, and to see that the world is full of possibilities!
Today, I’m excited to share two announcements:
First, FLYTE has a new partnership with Crabtree & Evelyn, a company that’s combining travel, philanthropy, and beauty.
It’s making a huge donation of $35,000 and funding an entire group of students’ life-changing trip abroad! How amazing is that?
The founder of Crabtree & Evelyn, Cyrus Harvey, explored the world and returned home to Boston with various soaps and perfumes from his adventures. With those products, he founded Crabtree & Evelyn.
He wasn’t just selling soaps. He was selling stories. Cyrus loved connecting with people. He built a business around those connections so he could share his passion for travel and discovery with people back home.
As part of the company’s new initiatives and plans, it’s supporting students, giving them the opportunities Cyrus also had.
I had the chance to interview Ashley Souza, Crabtree & Evelyn’s chief brand officer, and she shared more about Cyrus’s story, the company’s evolution, and why FLYTE was chosen as its nonprofit partner.
Nomadic Matt: My earliest memory of Crabtree & Evelyn was a brick-and-mortar store that sold bath salts. How has the company evolved over the years, and what’s the story behind your recent rebranding?
Ashley: Our founder Cyrus was a culture junkie. Before we were Crabtree & Evelyn, he founded The Soap Box, where he showcased artisan soaps he picked up on his travels around Europe.
Crabtree & Evelyn was founded with a heavy British inspiration and with a diverse portfolio that included many lifestyle products in addition to personal care. We discovered through our deep consumer research, before the rebrand, that the traditional British qualities of C&E no longer resonated with a younger consumer. So we went back to the fundamental values that Cy originally built the business on: exploration, curation, and storytelling.
We kept our core ranges as a homage to the historical C&E: Evelyn Rose, Crabtree, and the Gardeners, but our real purpose is coming to life through our Exploration ranges, capsule lifestyle collections inspired by locations that our Exploration team authentically explores with locals. [NOTE: Nomadic Matt readers get 10% off their first order using the code FLYTE10 at checkout!]
How has Cyrus’s legacy and travel shaped the company’s mission and values?
Cy was a believer in connecting cultures, whether that was through the films he imported and showed at the Brattle Theater in Cambridge or through the products he sold. Our passion is the same: creating connections for our customers through stories and products from our travels. We want to provide an experience to our community that they might not otherwise have.
We’re so grateful that you’re funding an entire FLYTE trip! What moved you to choose FLYTE as your nonprofit partner? Why do you think it’s important for students to see the world?
The goal of this rebrand was not only to revive a heritage brand in a new and modern way but to use our platform for good. For each Exploration collection we launch, a portion of proceeds will be donated directly to a charitable organization in the location we have explored, for a specific need that the people we connect with on our travels have cited as important.
In addition to our collection-specific give-back program, we wanted to do more to encourage travel and understanding of other cultures. FLYTE was a perfect partner for us. Its mission, exposing youth in the United States that might not have had the means to travel to other ways of life, other ways of thinking, is how we break down barriers and become a more unified world.
Personally, I was blessed to have parents that taught me the importance of travel. They urged me to educate myself through cultural experiences at a young age. It taught me to be more understanding, more considerate, more tolerant, and it deeply impacted who I am today. Traveling has the ability to break a cycle, shift a way of thinking, and push you to trust yourself and others — invaluable life lessons that I am thrilled to be able to help kids experience through our partnership.
Your company’s slogan is “Born Curious, Grown Wild.” How has this translated into your products and outlook?
Our slogan pays tribute to Cy, who was born a very curious man with lofty goals and incredible business sense, and to the brand now, which has taken his original ethos and turned the volume up, creating a cultural experience for C&E customers.
***
The second big announcement is that of our new partner school:
Rosenwald Collegiate Academy (RCA), an amazing high school in New Orleans, Louisiana, whose students will be traveling to Puerto Rico!
With a majority BIPOC population, Rosenwald celebrates equity, inclusion, and diversity through rigorous classroom instruction, social innovation, and cultural authenticity. The goal for all students: college success and lives of limitless opportunity.
Many of Rosenwald’s students continue to face circumstances that present significant challenges for their personal and academic journeys. Despite all these obstacles, they persevere in so many exceptional ways.
“They are creative and authentic and work incredibly hard to get through high school. Their goal is college, and the choices they make every day push them closer to that goal.” This is how Erica Perez and Angela Filardo, the teachers who will be leading this trip, described these remarkable students in their FLYTE application.
Percy, a junior at RCA, shared that he “hasn’t traveled anywhere outside of New Orleans besides Little Rock, Arkansas. This trip will be opening my mind up to things other than just New Orleans. It will be a wonderful learning experience for me. I want to go to school to be an engineer and will probably have to go to different places to learn about this subject. This will be a good way for me to learn how to adapt to a new place and environment and learn from other cultures.”
Last March, when the students found out that they would have this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to travel to Puerto Rico, this was their reaction.
This trip will focus on sustainability and climate change. The students have demonstrated interest in creating policy changes, and this trip will give them much practical information and context as they work with local-led organizations focused on coastal restoration and reforestation.
We’re so excited about this new partnership with Crabtree & Evelyn and can’t wait for the students from Rosenwald Collegiate Academy to get out into the world!
Our team has been pretty quiet about FLYTE these past couple of months because, for a nonprofit whose mission is to get students onto planes, this goal isn’t possible in our current COVID-19 world. But, since we forged this new connection with Crabtree & Evelyn and since Rosenwald starts school this month, we’re super excited about what is to come!
Right now, we hope for this trip to take place in the summer of 2021. We also wanted to stress that our students are at the core of what we do, and their safety is our highest priority. To ensure their safety as well as that of the communities they will visit in Puerto Rico, this trip will only happen when regulatory agencies, the school administration, and science-backed evidence tell us it’s safe to travel again.
In the meantime, we are working in partnership with the school to create virtual programming so the students can prepare for their journey from the safety of their homes (Rosenwald is starting the school year remotely).
During these truly trying times, I’m so thankful to everyone who continues to support FLYTE. I’m so glad to celebrate the work that Crabtree & Evelyn is doing to incorporate philanthropy. Because of all of them, FLYTE will be able to send even more students abroad in 2021 and beyond.
When we can all travel safely again, our FLYTE students will play a critical role in rebuilding our global community. We’re grateful for your help and support in making that possible! You can use the donation form below to donate or find out more about getting involved by clicking here.
$10
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$
One time
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NOTE: We are a 501(c)3 charity so your donations are tax exempt. (US residents only)
Thank you everyone for your support over the last five years and we’re super excited about this new partnership with Crabtree & Evelyn! We can’t wait for the world to get back to normal so these students can go to Puerto Rico!
If you have any questions, leave them in the comments.
Sincerely,
Nomadic Matt
P.S. – Don’t forget to use the code FLYTE10 for 10% off your first purchase. Just click here to check out their new products!
The post Philanthropy & Travel: How One Business Is Giving Back w/FLYTE appeared first on Nomadic Matt's Travel Site.
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You Need A Budget (YNAB): Humbly Confident Public Relations Manager
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Headquarters: Salt Lake City, UT URL: https://www.youneedabudget.com/
At YNAB, we build the world’s best budgeting software. But teaching people how to get control of their money and changing lives, one budget at a time, is what gets us up in the morning. Over the years we’ve slowly gained some notoriety (the good kind!) but there are still a whole lot of people who have never heard of us, and it’s a budgeting shame. 
We’re looking for a natural storyteller, connector, and media whisperer, with years of public relations experience, to help us raise our profile. 
You have experience working with influencers and understand that bigger isn’t always better, but also, that sometimes, it is. You’re flexible like that. In fact, while reading the last two sentences, you began making a mental list of people you’d want to connect with right out of the gate. 
You see opportunities all around you and the thought of cold-calling a potential partner and pitching a potential project or campaign sounds thrilling. If you’re thinking, “Where is the challenge in that? I may even get an invite to the wedding!”, you just might be our person. 
You understand what makes a great story and what makes something media-worthy. And you love nothing more than packaging it all up and getting it in front of the right person, at the right time. 
When you look at all the awesome content the YNAB marketing team produces, you can’t help but think of 14 other ways you would promote it. Don’t be shy—we can’t wait to hear your ideas.  
If you are the right person for the job you’ll have the following experience and/or qualities: 
Experience in public relations, influencer marketing, affiliate marketing, referral marketing, and/or partner marketing 
A sense of humor and the ability to think on your feet (this sounds like improv, which isn’t a requirement, but how awesome is improv?!)
Strong skills as a writer, communicator, and negotiator  
Strategic-minded planner who can execute the details without losing sight of the big picture 
An assertive, proactive personality that is energized at the prospect of building new relationships, partnerships, and programs
A natural-bridge builder that can’t help but make connections, build consensus, and invite collaboration
Excellent time management skills which make juggling multiple projects, priorities, and pitches look easy
That gives you a pretty good idea of the job and who we’re looking for, but first, you need to know if you’ll even like working with us. (Spoiler alert: We think you will.)
A Bit About Us
We build the best budgeting software around, YNAB or “You Need a Budget” if you have a lot of extra time on your hands. For more than a decade, people have been buying YNAB and then telling their friends what a difference it has made in their lives. (Google us, or read some of our reviews on the app store, and you’ll see what we mean.) We love building something that has a huge positive impact on people’s lives.
We’re profitable, bootstrapped, and growing. YNAB started in 2004 and we haven’t taken any outside funding—we’re in it for the long haul. 
We have one overarching requirement when it comes to joining our team: our Core Value Manifesto has to really click with you. If you’re nodding emphatically while reading it, you’ll probably fit right in, in which case, we can’t wait to hear from you! 
First, let’s talk about life at YNAB and then we’ll go into detail about what we’re looking for. 
Who you’d be working with:
Lindsey & The Gang aka the Marketing Team aka just a rag-tag but lovable bunch of underdogs who defy the odds—making budgeting software hilarious, emotional, and accessible—day in and day out. (Disney, are you listening?) 
We love musical theater, board games, stand-up comedy, the Enneagram, video games, and art, to varying degrees, depending on who you talk to first. (Oh, and Ryan likes sports.) Our internal Slack channel is so much fun, it has a growing fanbase of its own. 
Lindsey, our Chief Marketing Officer, will be the first to delete something very important, but also the first to celebrate your wins—big and small. Ryan, our Digital Marketing Director, will quickly become your lifeline in any type of bracketology-related emergency and even under website-launch-level-stress, he can sneak in the jokes that make you feel like, “if Dad’s OK, we’ll all be OK.” 
You’ll collaborate a lot with Rachel, who leads out on the blog, possibly from Hawaii, where she’s working from an AirBnB for a month or two, because she’s cool like that. And Janelle, who is the hilarious brain behind our social media. Of course, there is also Ashley and Hannah, who are growing our YouTube channel, and basically scream “lifestyle partnerships!” with their very existence. And then there are awesome teachers Erin, Ben, and Kelly, who are building out educational content and self-paced courses, that are begging to be discovered by the right verticals and communities… And that’s not even everybody! 
It’s a strong, creative, hilarious team that genuinely enjoys each other and their work. 
How You’ll Work at YNAB
We work really hard to make working at YNAB an amazing experience. In fact, we were recently recognized as Fortune's #4 best small company to work for in the United States! We have a team full of truly exceptional people—the kind you’ll be excited to work with. Here’s how we operate:
Live Where You Want
We’re a distributed team, so you can live and work wherever you want. Proximity doesn’t influence productivity. Taylor, our CTO, was traveling who-knows-where for a couple of years before he bought a farm. Up and move to France for a year? Sure, Todd did that. Don’t like France? How about London, where Janelle trotted off to. Tulsa Remote? Can do. Or if you just love LA or Baltimore or Buenos Aires, we’ve got people there, too.  Not all of us move around, but the fact that these folks have is totally okay because we’re all adults. Just make sure you have a reliable internet connection.
No Crazy Hours
We rarely work more than 40 hours per week. There have been a few occasions where things got a little crazy and people had to log some extra hours. But then they took some extra time off, so it all balances out. We work hard and smart but we’re in this for the long haul, no need to go crazy on the hours.
Take Vacation (Seriously)
We want you to take vacation. In fact, we have a minimum vacation policy of three weeks per year. Five weeks feels about right (plus two extra weeks for Christmas break). It’s important to get out and do something. We’ll look forward to seeing pictures of your vacation in our Slack channel, creatively named #office_wall.
The YNAB Meetup
We get the teams together once a year to catch up on spreadsheets and powerpoints in a Best Western conference room. Just kidding. So far, we’ve done Costa Rica, a gigantic cabin in the mountains, a beach house in the Outer Banks, a ranch in Montana, and most recently, Laguna Beach. We work together, play together, and reinforce the bonds we’ve made as a team and company. Every year, we leave refreshed, motivated, and excited for the year ahead together.
Up Your Game
We’re serious about helping you improve your craft. We budget for it (hey-o!). Think conferences, Lynda subscriptions, dedicated time away from work to learn something new… it’s really up to you and your manager. But we love to see our people growing.  
International is Absolutely Okay
If you are Stateside, we’ll set you up as a W2 employee. If you’re international, you’ll be set up as a contractor. Employee or contractor, it’s all the same to us. You’re part of the team. (We are spread all over the world: Switzerland, Scotland, Mexico, Brazil, Argentina, Germany, Canada, and all over the United States.)
If You’re Stateside…
YNAB offers fantastic health, dental, and vision insurance, where we cover 100% of the premium for you and your family. (No need to check your vision, you read that right, 100%. Although if you did need to check your vision, NBD, we’ve got you covered!)
We also have a Traditional and Roth 401k option. YNAB contributes three percent whether you choose to throw any money in there or not. It vests immediately. (Are you a personal finance junkie like our founder Jesse? He set up YNAB’s 401k to have the lowest fee structure possible, where all plan costs are paid by YNAB, not your retirement nest egg. The investment funds available are fantastic, passively-managed, ultra low-cost index funds. You’re not a PF junkie? Trust us, it’s awesome.)
Other Tidbits
Once you start, we DEMAND (in a friendly, ALL CAPS IS YELLING way) that you fill out your “Bucket List” spreadsheet with 50 items. (That’s harder than it sounds!) 
The bucket list really helps in deciding what we should give you for your birthday and the holidays.
We have a bonus plan based on profitability. You’ll be in on that from day one. YNAB wins, you win. That kind of thing.
We’re all adults. There’s no need to punch a clock, or ask for permission to take off early one afternoon to go see the doctor (health insurance premium 100% covered!). We look at what you accomplish, not how long you sit (have you tried standing?) in front of a computer.
We want you firing on all cylinders so we’ll set you up with a shiny new computer and replace it every three years.
Did I mention we make a huge, positive difference in people’s lives? You may not think that matters much, but then a few months down the road you’ll realize it’s made your job really, really enjoyable. Don’t underestimate this one!
If this sounds like your ideal environment, read on because now I want to talk about you. You will play a big, big part in helping YNAB customers achieve success. You will change lives. I’ll only say that six more times.
Now, back to you, our new Public Relations Manager...
Before “content marketing” and “word-of-mouth marketing” were buzzwords, YNAB’s marketing efforts were anchored in content and community. It’s what we do best. But we have a lot of people focused on creating the content, and very few with bandwidth to really focus on promoting the content. This is where you come in. 
You are full of ideas. There are influencers to work with, content partnerships to forge, referral strategies to execute, media stories to land! 
You see our crazy, loyal fanbase and it gets your wheels spinning—oh, the things you could do with the two families who got YNAB license plates or the couple that threw a YNAB-themed Valentines date!  
If we told you that we were getting users to opt-in to share their data anonymously so we could publish an Annual Report full of spending trends and averages, your head might explode with the media coverage potential. (Oh, the potential!!) 
You are probably a storyteller in your own right, and although we have content creators, you wouldn’t be shy about diving right in and writing content for a partnership you are working on or an influencer campaign in the works. 
You are our ideal candidate if you: 
Have at least 3-5 years of professional experience in public relations,
Agency experience
Excel at juggling multiple projects and timelines at any given moment and switching gears keeps you fresh and stimulated. 
Opportunistic and proactive about sourcing, developing, and executing potential partnerships, programs, and/or campaigns
Energized at the thought of building something from nothing
Comfortable initiating and maintaining relationships 
Understand how to pitch the right media, the right content, at the right time
Persistent. Because media. 
Make us laugh. 
Manage your time exceptionally well and are comfortable working remotely. 
Incredibly organized, flexible, and collaborative. 
Never met a deadline you didn’t love. 
Self-motivated and driven by nature, maybe even a little competitive. 
Stay laser-focused on the big picture, without losing sight of every. last. detail. 
Wildly productive and independent, but a team-player at heart. 
Bonus Points: 
You already use and love YNAB. 
YNAB is an equal opportunity employer. We believe diversity of backgrounds, beliefs, and experiences to be critical to our success and are passionate about creating a welcoming, supportive, and collaborative environment for all employees. All are encouraged to apply as we continue to grow a smart, hard-working, and diverse team who love working together to build something that matters.
How to Apply
Apply here (https://ynab.recruiterbox.com/jobs/fk0qmzk) by 11:59PM on March 12th, 2020. Firm. It’s a real deadline. The kind you love.
Attach a pdf of your cover letter. In your cover letter: 
Introduce yourself and explain why this position is of interest to you, and why you would be a great fit. Please limit this section of the cover letter to 1.5 pages. 
On a separate page of your cover letter, answer the following questions (with each response being about a paragraph in length): 
1. What attracted you to this position? (This is not about what attracted you to the software.) 
2. What criteria do you look for when searching for your next company or position? 
3. What are your favorite and least favorite parts of your current job? 
4. Tell us about a time when you had to learn something new to excel at your job. 
5. We recently launched two self-paced video courses and have two more in the works. How would you go about driving people toward those resources? 
6. Tell us about a campaign or program you built from concept to execution. 
7. With what you know about our brand and our product, share some influencers or other brands that you think could be strong potential partners, and why. 
If you have a prepared resume, attach it in PDF form. If you don’t have a resume because you aren’t even sure you’re looking to change jobs, that’s fine! An informal list of your work and education history are all we’re looking for.
Please send all attachments as PDFs. 
P.S.  If you’re not interested in or available for this position, but know someone who is, we would really appreciate it if you passed this along!
To apply: https://ynab.recruiterbox.com/jobs/fk0qmzk
from We Work Remotely: Remote jobs in design, programming, marketing and more https://ift.tt/3chu8kE from Work From Home YouTuber Job Board Blog https://ift.tt/2w8wbXY
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katmtan · 7 years
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BWW Interview: CONSTELLATIONS' Ginnifer Goodwin & Allen Leech - Shining Stars Converging To Be Terrified - Live!
Two well-recognizable and popular television actors Ginnifer Goodwin and Allen Leech will be making their respective Los Angeles and United States theatre debuts in playwright Nick Payne’s award-winning CONSTELLATIONS at The Geffen Playhouse beginning June 6, 2017. CONSTELLATIONS imparts the “What if?” query for a beekeeper and a quantum physicist in their quests to find love.
I had the chance to shoot Ginnifer and Allen a few questions into the ethers just before they settled in and alighted on The Geffen stage.
Thank you, Ginnifer and Allen for making the time for this interview.
Have either of you seen any previous productions of CONSTELLATIONS before?
Allen Leech: I saw the original production in the Royal Court. We have a lot to live up too!
Ginnifer Goodwin: I haven’t. I doubt I’d have had the guts to pursue this role if I’d seen, say, impeccable Sally Hawkins or GENIUS Ruth Wilson play her as they did at the Royal Court and MTC, respectively.
Ginnifer, how would you contrast and compare your character of Marianne in CONSTELLATIONS with those of Snow White/Mary Margaret Blanchard you play in Once Upon a Time?
GG: I don’t know where to begin! These characters couldn’t differ more. I think they only have in common that I play them. So they’ll seem similar because it’s not like I can actually get away from myself. The amalgamated Snow White/Mary Margaret is hopeful, impulsive, terribly selfish and utterly selfless. Marianne hides behind her intellect and uses it as a shield. She embarrasses herself constantly and brazenly, which does make her brave in my book. I suppose that makes both characters brave. Marianne comes to the table fairly complete. She’s also witty and prideful and isolating. I’d like to be friends with Marianne. Though I can’t imagine she’s a Disneyphile.
And, Allen, how would you contrast and compare your character of Roland in CONSTELLATIONS with Tom Branson on Downton Abbey?
AL: I think there is a strong similarity in their warmth and their heart. But Roland is funnier and has a much darker side to him.
Ginnifer, this will be your Los Angeles stage debut after how many years living in LA?
GG: I lived in LA for exactly the years that I worked on Big Love. I then moved to Vancouver for Once. I have only just returned after six seasons.
What made you pick CONSTELLATIONS as your first cross on your Los Angeles boards?
GG: I truly stalked everyone at The Geffen Playhouse for this job. I had been starving for theatre. I mentioned this to a director friend who asked, “In what plays are you interested? Are there characters you are itching to play-stories you are dying to tell?” I was stumped. I also realized I was completely out of touch. I called The Drama Book Shop in NYC and ordered boxes of contemporary plays and classic pieces I had missed along the way. I fell hard for CONSTELLATIONS. Then the LA Times suddenly published an announcement about The Geffen’s upcoming production. That was last summer or fall, some time. I immediately called my manager and agents and asked, “Can you please get me into a room with the director?” I hopped a plane to LA, I wrote letters, and here we are!
Allen, this will mark your United States stage debut. What made you pick CONSTELLATIONS to make your first U.S. stage appearance?
AL: A combination of so many things. I love the work The Geffen Playhouse has put on in the past. I’m a huge fan of Ginnifer’s work. And I love this play. So I feel very lucky.
So you’re familiar with Ginnifer’s work?
AL: I am. She’s a phenomenal actress.
GG: I was a Downton Abbey junkie. I also loved The Imitation Game. I am a huge fan. I have to work not to call him “Branson.”
Ginnifer, you received your BFA from Boston University after studying in London at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art and training with the Royal Shakespeare Company. Did your paths cross, by any chance?
AL: They have not, she has clearly been avoiding me.
GG: I never met Allen until we recently went on a double date. We, then discovered that we have an uncanny number of social circle overlaps. Now that we are both Angelenos, I suppose we will run into each other, extra-curricularly, more often.
Ginnifer, what do you miss about living in London?
GG: West End theatre; Tate Modern and National Portrait Gallery; curry; omnipresent history (being from a country that’s a relative baby); Sunday roast and around-the-clock tea, both traditions we honor in our California home; leaving London for the countryside; my English friends; walking. I’m half-English and like to think I’m entitled to London somehow. My English friends tease me about this.
Are both of you familiar with any of Nick Payne’s work?
AL: Yes, I am. He has a beautiful style of writing. ELEGY at the Donmar Warehouse was fantastic. I love the questions he asks. No more so than in CONSTELLATIONS.
GG: I have only read CONSTELLATIONS and IF THERE IS, I HAVEN’T FOUND IT YET. I will next read his ELECTRA. He is a favorite playwright.
Allen, by any chance did you ever go to the National Theatre bookshop in 2008 or 2009? You might have been waited on by your playwright working as sales clerk then.
AL: I did all the time! Wow! I would love to think that I did meet him.
You both have worked with some TV and screen legends, (and, at least, one Dame). Tell us a wonderful piece of advice from one or more of them.
AL: Dame Maggie says, “Say it faster, say it better!”
GG: My co-stars have taught me mostly by example. Julia Roberts starred in my first movie. She was always on time and the first person to set. She always made everyone feel like a million bucks. Even when she had the flu and had been shooting all day, she gave a full off-camera performance for the extras. I strive for such professionalism and cannot abide less from others. I suppose Julia did give me verbal advice, too. She encouraged me to keep my private life private and to remain, as I mature in this business, as “me” as possible.
How does the schedule of working on this play compare with your other ‘regular’ jobs on Downton Abbey and Once Upon a Time?
AL: We work shorter hours on CONSTELLATIONS than we did on Downton Abbey. But because it’s a two-hander, the work is a lot more intense.
GG: For Once, if I am in every scene over the course of a week, I will work for 80 hours and won’t rehearse before that day’s blocking call. A season is nine months long. CONSTELLATIONS will be less grueling, time-wise, at 36 rehearsal hours, and then eight performances a week. The whole experience will only last from May until mid-July. That being said, I expect the stage process to seriously kick my butt in all other ways.
Does the danger of performing live with no retakes entice you?
AL: Theater is where I started acting, so it’s nice to come back to that fear and excitement. It never goes away.
GG: Yes, I am terrified. But I was looking to be terrified.
Aside from the obvious economic benefits from larger television and film budgets, which would you like to spend more time acting in: theatre, TV or film?
GG: I love the TV series life. When a movie is fulfilling, I believe in magic again. But theatre is home.
AL: I would like to be greedy and do all three all at the same time, if possible.
What message would you like The Geffen audiences to leave with after your CONSTELLATIONS’ curtain call?
GG: I want them to find their own messages after asking themselves lots and lots and lots of questions.
AL: If they leave asking questions about love, the chances in life that you’ve missed and the ones you’ve taken, I’ll be happy!
Thank you Both again! I look forward to seeing your shining stars converging in your CONSTELLATIONS.
For ticket availability and show schedule through July 16, log onto www.geffenplayhouse.org
http://www.broadwayworld.com/los-angeles/article/BWW-Interview-CONSTELLATIONS-Ginnifer-Goodwin-Allen-Leech-Shining-Stars-Converging-To-Be-Terrified-Live-20170606
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regrettablewritings · 7 years
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First Lines
Rules: Paste a short sentence/paragraph you think a potential reader may find intriguing from your last 20 stories and then tag 10 other authors. Tagged by: @mrsrafaelbarba a literal eternity ago and I only got to it now because my memory is such shite and I am an awful person to tag. 😰   I tag . . .: Well, dang, who hasn’t done this already? I mean?? @xemopeachx if you want in on this, you’re up but like?? Anyone else wants to do it, feel free to.
I’ve realized that some of the last things I did were, like, Would Includes so lemme try and remember the last 20 actual stories I wrote . . . Dang, there’s a lot of Bruce Wayne and Barba and Credence.
1. Day Bi Day (Rafael Barba x Reader):
“Jeffrey Dean Morgan,” he repeated slowly, as if trying to get a feel for the name himself. He then pursed his lips critically. “(Y/N), he’s old enough to be your father.”
You shrugged, albeit with an obvious lack of true consideration of Rafael’s point. “Yeah, well, you know . . . He’s not.” You seemed to leave it at that as you leaned toward your bowl of cereal. From the way your voice trailed, he took it as a sign of self-accepted defeat.
Rafael soundlessly scoffed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head for good measure. You sure had weird tastes and no right to question his at this rate. It was quiet for the next moment, with Rafael trying to think of whomever else he found attractive, and with the both of you chewing your newest respectful spoonfuls.
Therefore, with the silence settling in, it was quite easy for Rafael to hear you quickly mutter into your bowl, “Sure is my Daddy™, though.”
The rest of the silence was shattered by the dramatically bombastic sound of Rafael coughing over a piece of cereal that he had carelessly allowed to fall the wrong way.
2. The One Reason to Love the Glasshouse (Bruce Wayne x Reader):
It didn’t take long before everything – the pitter-patter of the rain, the heat and pleasure of Bruce’s presence on yours, his gentle breathing, the overall state of relaxation you were in – melded together into a creamy, soft feeling. As your eyes closed once more to let the essence of this rainy morning engulf you, you confirmed what you only ever did on days like this: You had a love-hate relationship with Bruce’s home. But so long as it could provide the two of you moments like this, you wouldn’t mind tolerating it.
3. Say Yes to Distress (Rafael Barba x Reader):
Against his better judgement, Rafael turned away from the sanctuary of plastic bags and to you. He regretted it the moment he laid eyes on you.
This was it. This was the dress. Ballroom style and strapless, yet another sweetheart neckline, but one embroidered with intricate lacework. Patterns that spread down to the bell of the dress before scattering into patches that resembled dripping bouquets of flowers. Organza fabric creating a light essence about the dress, as though it were made of clouds, all topped with a small waist belt of pearls and lace. It wasn’t cute like the first dress or sexy like the second. It was, in a word, perfection.  
The expression on your face, however, was not one worthy of yourself in such a gown. It was one of worry and confusion. And it hurt Rafael that he was the one who was causing it.
4. How to Be a Good Catholic, Part 1 (Sonny Carisi x Reader):
“Father, I stole: My boyfriend had saved a cannoli for himself for after work and I couldn’t help myself – I ate it!” Dammit. And it’d sounded so good in the heat of the moment. You were a grown woman; why were you coming in here with a confession children in Sunday School used? Before you could stop yourself, you added in, “I went out and bought a new one for him, though. Walked six blocks in the evening so he’d have a cannoli ready for him as soon as he stepped a toe through the door.”
If you didn’t know any better, you could’ve sworn you heard Father Murphy huffing to supress a chuckle.
“I see … Indeed, stealing is a crime. Though, I must commend you for taking responsibility and setting things right – ”
“I also snuck a bag of cherry sours from a bodega into the movies once because I didn’t want to pay the unreasonable concessions price,” you weakly blabbed.
“That, uh … It’s against theater protocol but I wouldn’t call that a sin necessarily.”
“Oh.”
5. How to Be a Good Catholic, Part 2 (Sonny Carisi x Reader):
It was amazing how cravings worked: You could be perfectly fine, not want to eat anything in particular and just eat whatever simply because you needed nourishment to keep getting through the day. But the moment you’re told you can’t eat a certain something, no matter how often you may or may not eat it, it suddenly becomes all you can think about. That was what made Lent maddening for you as a child. It was as though the season held special powers beyond serving as a countdown for your lord and savior basically becoming a zombie: It could make you crave cafeteria nuggets like a junkie craved a fix. But considering that said zombie-savior got beaten, nailed to a cross, and was forced to wear a crown of thorns for you, abstaining from meat a couple of Fridays for 40 days was the least you could do besides doing nothing at all.  
… But Zombie Jesus, it was so hard.
6. Pink (Rafael Barba x Reader):
If you liked pink before, dating and eventually marrying Rafael had made you adore it: It striped some of his shirts and dominated others; it was the color of one of his many suspenders; it speckled quite a few ties in intricate designs, muted in pastel form on his pocket square. A bright, electric hue as his yachting shirt, much to your amusement. It was the color your cheeks would assume every time he complimented you, the color his face would turn whenever you praised your beloved husband for how incredible you found his work ethic. It was the color of the tie you’d picked out for him that morning as he dressed himself up for work, and it was the color of the roses he’d had delivered to your workplace yesterday, which were now placed in a glass vase centered at the kitchen table.
It was also the color of the two lines on the stick you’d been staring at for the past ten minutes.
7. Stripulation (Rafael Barba x Reader):
“I must say,” she said, her voice changing from accusatory to an attempt at seductive. She adjusted the arm under her breasts more, making sure that they popped further into acknowledgement. “You’ve gone from little lavishing lawyer to quite the law-abiding citizen, Counselor Cutiepie.” She chuckled as she watched the object of her desire tense up at the name. She glanced downward at his suitcase, still open and still in the process of being unpacked. “Still have a thing for suspenders, I see,” she commented.
“Crap” would have been too simple of a word to describe what sprinted through Rafael’s mind at that moment. But whatever word it was, it began to run laps as the woman began to saunter over to him, slowly and emphasizing every movement her hips made along the way. She only stopped when she left barely a foot between them.
“Oh my,” she breathed, “you have such lovely eyes. I never would’ve been able to tell they were green of all things in that old VIP room; all the lights were dim and red! But I wonder … Do those hips still snap like they used to?”
8. The Color of Loving (Modern Daddy!Credence Barebone):
“It” being when Amari, babbling and calling for “Daddy” ran up to her pale father, chubby brown arms lifted to signify she wanted him to hold her. Credence initially didn’t realize what was going on around him, only focusing on his beautiful baby girl as he lifted her to his waist with a smile on both their faces. It was instinct: After living a life on edge and pitying every second of his own existence, why would he bother to willingly do so now that he felt so happy and complete? It was only when his little treasure occupied herself with laying her head on his shoulder that he happened to look around himself.
People were staring.
Not too many, but just enough to make him feel uncomfortable. As much as he was able to avoid the sense of self-pitying from his previous life, Credence was still very much a nervous man by nature; if the right amount of people stared at him while buying groceries, he’d quickly divert his eyes to the dingy linoleum. But in that precise moment at the park, he couldn’t place why they could be staring at him. Did he step in something? Did he unknowingly sit on some kid’s abandoned bar of chocolate? Was there something he happened to be in the same direction of – ? Credence tensed: they were looking at him and Amari. As a unit. As two things to be compared against.
9. A Portrait Worth a Thousand Words (Bruce Wayne x Reader):
If Thomas was where Bruce had inherited his looks and personality, Martha was surely where he’d gained his sense of grace and elegant flair from. The dark-haired beauty sat, poised and finely-dressed in a manner that made you question if she had just been a socialite or if she was truly a queen. Her pearls, simple if observed alone, caressed her neck and breastbone in a careful way that reminded you of classical paintings. But the crowning jewel of intimidation was the expression she eternally wore: Not one of malice or disgust, but one of sheer coolness. Like a woman made of iron hidden behind silk. Her countenance suggested a scary grace under pressure, an icy intelligence, an all-knowing one. Even the redness of her painted lips were classily poised as if in observance of all that she could survey, analyzing and judging every little thing. Including you, in all the moments you had stared at her and her husband from down the hall up to now as you stood directly in front of them. 
10. A Practice in Happy Memories (Credence Barebone x Reader):
And for a moment, it looked like a mere vapor, just as you had expected his first successful attempt would be. What you didn’t expect, much less Credence, was that merely two seconds later, it began to morph.
It grew legs – thin, bony ones – and a body just as skeletal. A whip-like tail lashed through the air as its narrow, gaunt face shook into life. Its wings, like a bat, stayed open as it galloped through the air and around the dining room, leaving wisps of vapor and light in its wake.
Your mouth hung in complete awe as your frantically blinked as though just the right amount would disprove what you were seeing. Credence, on the other hand, appeared slightly horrified. What in Merlin’s name had he produced? Was it a mistake? Did he mess up? Did he not focus hard enough? Was … was the happiest memory he could think up not good enough?
11. Soulmate AU - You Share Thoughts with Your Soulmate (Stephen Strange):
In your state hovering just outside the realm of meditation, you heard Stephen sighing. You supposed that it was out of contentment with his achievement of getting you to calm. It therefore seemed peculiar when he risked breaking that induced mode by gently grabbing you by the waist before gingerly placing you on his cross-legged lap. Without another word, he returned his hands into their previous position, closed his eyes again, and began his exercise.
Before he went fully in to his trance, he could just faintly hear your thoughts one more time: “Thank you.”
The smile he produced in response set him a few steps back from achieving the desired state. He didn’t mind.
12. Soulmate AU - Soulmates Get Reincarnated, Usually with Their Memories Still Intact (Tadashi Hamada):
“Hugging is fine!” you cut off, a little too high in tone. You didn’t want to know what else this bot could say that might tarnish his beautiful, pure appearance. You heard Tadashi snicker from his place next to you before turning fully to you, arms held open. When you looked at him with a blush-burned face, he chortled.
“You heard the medical expert,” he teased. It was only when you looked back and forth between himself and Baymax, before shoving yourself into the soft, huggable torso of the latter, that Tadashi’s arms dropped and his face contained complete disbelief.
“Unbelievable,” he muttered, watching you contently rub your face against Baymax’s tummy.
13. Soulmate AU - You Can See Color Once You Meet Your Soulmate (Jonathan Byers x Reader):
You weren’t thinking when your grabbed his hand and began sprinting down the hallway back to the art room. It didn’t even occur to you that you didn’t really know Jonathan, other than the fact that he was your soulmate and a photographer. You were just doing what suddenly came naturally: Wanting your soulmate to be around you. Besides, great things take time; you had to start somewhere. Even if “somewhere” meant dragging your confused, startled, and yet somewhat love-struck soulmate down the hallway. 
14. Valentine’s Day Love Languages - Words of Affirmation (Credence Barebone x Reader):
The still image of the two of you holding hands in the park stared back at him, your blissful smile complimenting his own nervous one. As he passed an enchanted photo, the real Credence couldn’t help but watch the photographed versions of you two reenacting the actions that had occurred up until the photograph had officially been captured: You were trying to get Credence to create a genuine, calm smile. You tried quick jokes, you tried gently tickling his side. Eventually, you settled on kissing his cheek. That did it. By the time the real Credence had past that particular image, the Credence in the photograph was smiling goofily and blushing while the photographed version of you nuzzled his arm affectionately. 
15. Valentine’s Day Love Languages - Physical Touch (Matt Murdock x Reader):
“That doesn’t mean I’m going to force her to do anything to me,” Matt scowled, though he was unsure as to who or what he was scowling over. He tried to calm down in all of his frustration, just barely becoming exhausted in his thought process. “I just … I don’t know what’s up. I know I should ask – I should’ve done that before I talked with you, actually – ”
“Fair enough.”
“ – but as stupid as it is, I can’t help but feel a little, well, scared about it. Don’t give me that look, I know how stupid it is, being scared of this. But I have a good reason to be: Even before we hit the honeymoon stage – hell, even before we started dating – I just wanted (Y/N) in my life. I wasn’t sure how, or even why I wanted to risk that. I just knew that I wanted to be near enough so that she would be a constant in my life. And the messed up part is, even throughout all of this, that’s still something I want.”
Matt went quiet for a moment as if in contemplation. “I guess I’m just hung up on the fact that maybe I did something wrong but she won’t tell me. I’m so used to relying on touch to determine things, y’know? I guess having … Being deprived of this one thing, it’s driving me on edge.”
16. Valentine’s Day Love Languages - Acts of Service (Newt Scamander x Reader):
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you kept chanting. You steadily reached into your coat pocket to retrieve their evening snack of bugs, courtesy of your godawful apartment in Brooklyn. “Daddy’s here. Daddy’s here,” you cooed. It seemed strange, referring to yourself as “daddy.” However, as time went on and you used it more and more, it just made sense and stopped feeling peculiar.
After all, if Newt was “Mummy”, surely that made you “Daddy.” And yet, as Newt heard you say it, saw you feeding the little winged creatures bugs, it felt as though he was only truly hearing you say it for the first time. As loving as Newt was, he knew that gaining an occamy’s trust was a fragile thing to do. It took him a while before he was certain referring to himself as “Mummy” was appropriate. Your willingness to take up the counterpart, however, just felt … right.
17. Valentine’s Day Love Languages - Quality Time (Percival Graves x Reader):
Whatever you said next, whether it had actually been emitted or not, was lost in the fabric of Percival’s shirt. The moment your voice began getting higher and higher with the strangle of your tears, he was out of the chair. It was only when his arms encased you and welcomed you back into the warmth you’d missed so dearly that it all came crumbling down.
Your anxieties, your loneliness, your needs, everything. You no longer felt selfish. You didn’t even feel angry anymore. You weren’t entirely sure what you felt for a moment. But for now, you decided as you weakly wrapped your arms around Percival’s torso, the feeling was relief.
The sitting room, which was usually quiet with the exception of the ticking clock, became filled with the sounds of your crying. After a while, it was accompanied by the sounds of Percival softly attempting to coax you into calmness. Gentle shushes with the faint sound of him gingerly running a hand through your hair, things he’d learned in the past that helped to soothe you. He used to believe that the past was so long ago because he had been doing his job. But now, with the revelation of your feelings, he began to suspect that it was simply just that he hadn’t been there for you.
18. Valentine’s Day Love Languages - Receiving Gifts (Jonathan Byers x Reader):
“Yes, I am leaving for NYU in a couple of months. Yes, I keep giving you gifts when I should probably be saving up. But . . .” His shoulders slouched slightly. “I want to give you things. I want to give you everything. Even the things I can’t afford. For now. And even though I’m leaving soon, I still want to assure you that I can still give you those things: A happy life, a home, a family, whatever you want.”
19. All the Write Words, Part 4 (Library AU!Vladimir Ranskahov x Reader)
For the first two years the Ranskahov brothers had been in America, the Veles Taxi & Limousine Services had been the Prohaska Cab Garage. Old Man Prohaska himself was a stubborn old man whose spit-at-your-shoes attitude hadn’t won him many companions. It did, however, win him a bizarre and rather cruel death by a bowling ball bash to the cranium. At the time, Anatoly had been one of the better options to leave the garage with and while it was highly likely that he wasn’t even in the will to begin with, the nervous lawyer who kept staring at an oddly calm and quiet Vladimir stated otherwise. And just like that, the garage was under new ownership. No questions asked.
Not much had changed under the Ranskahov ruling: It had always employed an abundance of Russians, it usually had rap or cheesy Russian folk music blaring from an old boom box. The mini collage of centerfolds and pinups only changed by gaining a few more additions and business went on as it had before because generally, customers didn’t have a preference for taxi services by name. Just do the job, do it good, and they’d go on their merry way. The only apparent change was the transformation of the logo into Veles Taxi. That, and maybe – just maybe – the powerful presence of tall, scary Russian men had increased since the brothers had taken over.
20. All the Write Words, Part 5 (Library AU!Vladimir Ranskahov x Reader):
He had brownish-red hair combed in a lax manner that still managed to portray an air of certainty. It didn’t matter that his eyes were shielded behind a pair of strange, red, round-framed glasses; they were probably just as warm and welcoming as the smile he wore. Basically, he was everything Vladimir wasn’t: closer in age to (Y/N), warm, and smiling. Vladimir had to seriously consider whether or not to throw up in order to catch (Y/N)’s attention.
Fortunately for the carpet, he didn’t have to; the brunette stopped laughing and turned to his general direction.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he apologized. “Were we being too loud? I understand that it’s a library, quite unprofessional …” Vladimir’s eye twitched slightly. His voice was low and warm. Like hot cider. Was every person who stepped into this goddamn place so pleasant and gushy? It was at this point that (Y/N) finally managed to stop laughing and turned her attention to her protégé.
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lunasspecto · 7 years
Text
Journalist Sarah Schulman delivered this speech at an AIDS memorial in New York on 22 June 2017 and later shared the text on Facebook:
“LET THE RECORD SHOW” LOSING THE TRUE HISTORY OF AIDS
By Sarah Schulman June 2017
I could stand here and tell you about friends of mine who are lost. But I would be abdicating my responsibility as a long-term witness to the AIDS calamity if I focused on Stan Leventhal or Asotto Saint today. As a journalist and novelist who has covered the entirety of the AIDS crisis, and (unlike many  people who covered AIDS from the beginning, I am still alive) I have to say honestly that the thing we are really losing is an accurate HISTORY of AIDS, and consequentially, we are losing an accurate assessment of where we are today. The AIDS Story has been distorted from the beginning, in part because of the chaos of figuring out what the hell was going on, in part because of bias, but now these distortions are being entrenched.  I want to take this time to give some very key examples.
 First, we have a false origin story.  Most people who know anything trace the beginning of AIDS to that New York Times article on July 4th weekend, 1981, reporting cases of what they called “Gay Cancer” in San Francisco. I think we now know enough to understand that this highly significant marker only recorded the moment when a long standing epidemic finally reached a critical mass of gay men who had access to high quality doctors who had the time and ability to actually notice and conceptualize their condition.  And so, July 4, 1981 is a monument to the cruelty of the American health care system.
There are estimates that by 1981 there were already 200,000 people in the United States who were infected with HIV. And that means that many people had already died, and been dying for a long time.  And others observed their deaths. So who were they? In his 1990 book The History of AIDS by Merko Gremek, he cites a study in the 1940’s that identified a group of sailors who died of a mysterious lung disease. The enterprising doctor cultured and saved their lung cells, which were identified in the 1980’s as PCP, or AIDS related pneumonia. The men also were noted to have had “anal trauma”, which because of homophobia was a euphemism for anal sex.  
In the ACT UP Oral History Project, Jim Hubbard and I interviewed 187 surviving members of ACT UP New York over seventeen years. In my interview with Betty Williams, a straight Quaker who was in ACT –Up, she reflects on her work with homeless people in the 1960’s and 70’s and recalls them using two terms to identify fatal illnesses affecting homeless people: “Junkie pneumonia” which we now understand also to be PCP, killing injection drug users, poor gay men and others who were HIV infected before anyone knew what HIV was, and “the dwindles” which we now understand to have been Wasting Syndrome, a significant cause of AIDS death. So, in the 1960’s and 70’s, homeless people observed and named AIDS related conditions, but they were so separated from adequate health care in our brutal and unjust, stratified class system, that no one else noticed.
     This week I heard a piece on WNYC promoting a new book about Jeffrey Shmaltz, a gay writer at the New York Times who died of AIDS.  The interview did not mention that the New York Times was a major force in maintaining social indifference and neglect towards people with AIDS, contributing to the expansion of the epidemic world-wide. The interview did not mention that there were a number of closeted gay men and women at the Times who turned their backs on the gay community and on people with AIDS for years, despite our desperate pleas. It did not mention that ACT UP called them “The New York CRIMES”, that when they got their first fax machine, we faxed them a mile of black paper because of their criminal refusal to cover AIDS. LET THE RECORD SHOW!  That homophobia at the New York Times meant that out of the closet journalists who wanted to tell the truth about what was happening to our community could not work at the highest levels of our profession. That out of the closet artists who made work about the reality of our lives under the epidemic, could not get their work understood or often even acknowledged, and demonstrations and zaps and experiences of people with AIDS were rarely even mentioned at the New York Crimes.
 On May 21, 1990, ACT UP organized a huge and elaborate action at the National Institute of Health, called STORM THE NIH, focused on insisting that people with AIDS be allowed on governmental boards controlling treatment development and testing. Because our people were literally NOT ALLOWED IN THE BUILDING,  folks with AIDS  had to stand outside the gates, including many very sick people some of whom were hauled away by police wearing yellow rubber gloves,  and these brave people were then arrested.  
Seventeen years later, Jim Hubbard and I were invited to the NIH, National Library of Medicine to present the beginnings of the ACT UP Oral History Project.  We said that the last time we had been there, we were on the other side of the gate. A woman raised her hand and told us that she was the NIH librarian, and that after demonstrators were taken away in 1990, she went outside and collected some of the left-over signs for the Institute’s archive. And then she made the bone-chilling statement that “We here at the NIH are so grateful that Dr Fauci had the insight to understand that everyone deserved a place at the table.” Jim and I were filled with disbelief. We explained to her and the rest of the NIH staff in attendance that our dead friends fought and struggled until the day they died to FORCE the NIH, AGAINST THEIR WILL, to include people with AIDS as experts on their  own disease. LET THE RECORD SHOW.
And when we look at the history of AIDS film and AIDS Theater, we see large-scale mis-representations and inventions embedded in the most rewarded and iconic works.  Early on, the most highly praised works about AIDS told a false story of gay people being alone and abandoned by each other, without community or political organization, dependent on benevolent straight people to rescue them. For example, the Oscar winning film PHILADELPHIA, told the story of a gay man with AIDS (Tom Hanks) who needed a lawyer, so he went to a homophobic straight lawyer (Denzel Washington). Why didn't he go to a gay lawyer? Most people with AIDS were defended by gay and lesbian or left-wing lawyers. The actual history is that people with AIDS were NOT defended by homophobic straight lawyers. LET THE RECORD SHOW.  But in the Oscar winning movie PHILADELPHIA there is no political gay community in existence for this man with AIDS to turn to. This is a completely false rendition designed to position homophobic straight people as the heroes of AIDS because they HEROICALLY overcome their predjudices to protect the alone gay man.
At the same time there were accurate depictions of upper-class white gay men like The Normal Heart or Longtime Companion that did tell true stories of race and class-based white gay male communities heroically struggling to force the government to act, while they faced mass death.  But the problem is not with these stories themselves, but that they became exclusively emblematic of an epidemic, that they only partially represented, while the stories of poor people, of women with HIV, or people of color, of children with HIV were relegated to marginalized venues like underground and community newspapers, or projects like Alexandra Juhasz  and Juanita Muhammed’s videos with women of color with AIDS (now showing at The Museum of the City of New York, thirty years after their creation) or Jean Carlomusto  and Gregg Bordowitz’s Cable series “Surviving and Thriving With AIDS” for GMHC in the 1980’s.  
What is particularly interesting about, for example, Larry Kramer’s THE NORMAL HEART, is that while it enjoyed a very successful run and revival off-Broadway at The Public Theater, it could not move to Broadway or HBO until decades after its creation because corporate entertainment was not ready for a white GAY man to be the hero of AIDS until the epicenter of the epidemic seemed to have passed.  LET THE RECORD SHOW.
And while white gay men suffered, were abandoned by their society and abandoned by their families, and died because of the criminal indifference and neglect by the US government, Big Pharma, The Entertainment Industry, and – yes- The New York Crimes- some of those who survived have also contributed mightily to the creation of a false history because they are the only sectors of the community of people with HIV/AIDS who have a voice at the levels of power. We have been subjected to claims by people like Andrew Sullivan, who in 1999 announced “The End of AIDS,” because his friends had good insurance and could get medication.  Yet reporters like Black lesbian hero Linda Villarosa , have documented the ongoing crisis for Black women and Black gay and bisexual men over decades. In a 2004, five years after Sullivan claimed “The End of AIDS” Villarosa wrote a two part series for the New York Times showing that the over-incarceration of Black men by white America, made Black women who wanted to have sex with Black men, more vulnerable to the virus because they faced a smaller partner pool with higher rates of infection.
For decades AIDS prevention organizations that are funded and thereby ultimately controlled by the US government and white corporations, have organized their prevention information on the false assumption that Black men who have sex with men have higher HIV rates because they  don’t have safe sex, but this was revealed to be untrue when in 2015, Greg Milet (Obama’s senior policy advisor on AIDS) released a study showing that Black men are   more likely than white men to have safe sex, but that – like Black women- if they want Black partners, their chances of encountering someone who is already positive are so much greater, that their risk for infection is way higher than whites.  Infection rates caused by racist incarceration and racist deprivation of health care for the poor, were blamed on racist concepts of Black irresponsibility.  
Just two weeks ago, Linda Villarosa published a MUST READ cover story in the Sunday Times magazine showing that in the US South, the abandonment of Black gay men is so severe, that they have HIV rates in 2017 that are higher than those of any country in the world, and yet white gay men are still producing and rewarding work that tells us that “we” as a nation have “Survived A Plague" LET THE RECORD SHOW.
And these distortions are evident, even in New York City. Just last week I was told by a social worker that she has seen Juvenile HIV deaths THIS YEAR among her client base but that some of these statistics are hidden under co-morbidity because her clients, who are homeless, may have died of other illnesses that became untreatable because of their advanced HIV disease. In New York City TODAY, half of HIV deaths are diagnosed in the emergency room because our people do not have health care. And a nurse told me last week that people with HIV dementia are being classified under “psychiatric” diagnosis, again obscuring the statistics for the poor.
And finally, what about the New York Crimes? Yes they now publish articles on gay people, gay weddings, gay parenthood. Yes, they do allow writers like Villarosa to publish their pathbreaking research. But what about their on-going coverage? Columbia graduate student Ian Bradley-Perrin  did an analytical survey of the Times HIV coverage in the last four years. Any of you who know anything about how stories get into the media know that most features have advanced corporate Public Relations machinery, behind-the-scenes, propelling specific stories and perspectives into print. Almost every profile of an individual, major review of a cultural work, or coverage of a trend is the product of an elaborate backstage campaign that is privately funded. So a pharmaceutical company like Gilead would have a better chance of being covered than, for example, the global trend of HIV criminalization.
Perrin found that since 2013, the Times has had 0 articles on hiv criminalization, 0 articles on the fact that over half of Black transsexual women are HIV positive, 0 articles on adults living today who were born HIV positive 0 articles on the hundreds of thousands of Americans whose parents died of AIDS,  1 article on the  specific experience of long-term survivors 3 articles  on hiv and opioids, 7 articles on African Americans and HIV, and 28 articles on Prep.
What we are losing is the true history of AIDS, and for this reason, we are losing our contemporary reality. LET THE RECORD SHOW.
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whateverjeanne · 7 years
Text
“LET THE RECORD SHOW” LOSING THE TRUE HISTORY OF AIDS
By Sarah Schulman
I could stand here and tell you about friends of mine who are lost. But I would be abdicating my responsibility as a long-term witness to the AIDS calamity if I focused on Stan Leventhal or Asotto Saint today. As a journalist and novelist who has covered the entirety of the AIDS crisis, and (unlike many people who covered AIDS from the beginning, I am still alive) I have to say honestly that the thing we are really losing is an accurate HISTORY of AIDS, and consequentially, we are losing an accurate assessment of where we are today. The AIDS Story has been distorted from the beginning, in part because of the chaos of figuring out what the hell was going on, in part because of bias, but now these distortions are being entrenched. I want to take this time to give some very key examples.
First, we have a false origin story. Most people who know anything trace the beginning of AIDS to that New York Times article on July 4th weekend, 1981, reporting cases of what they called “Gay Cancer” in San Francisco. I think we now know enough to understand that this highly significant marker only recorded the moment when a long standing epidemic finally reached a critical mass of gay men who had access to high quality doctors who had the time and ability to actually notice and conceptualize their condition. And so, July 4, 1981 is a monument to the cruelty of the American health care system.
There are estimates that by 1981 there were already 200,000 people in the United States who were infected with HIV. And that means that many people had already died, and been dying for a long time. And others observed their deaths. So who were they? In his 1990 book The History of AIDS by Merko Gremek, he cites a study in the 1940’s that identified a group of sailors who died of a mysterious lung disease. The enterprising doctor cultured and saved their lung cells, which were identified in the 1980’s as PCP, or AIDS related pneumonia. The men also were noted to have had “anal trauma”, which because of homophobia was a euphemism for anal sex.
In the ACT UP Oral History Project, Jim Hubbard and I interviewed 187 surviving members of ACT UP New York over seventeen years. In my interview with Betty Williams, a straight Quaker who was in ACT –Up, she reflects on her work with homeless people in the 1960’s and 70’s and recalls them using two terms to identify fatal illnesses affecting homeless people: “Junkie pneumonia” which we now understand also to be PCP, killing injection drug users, poor gay men and others who were HIV infected before anyone knew what HIV was, and “the dwindles” which we now understand to have been Wasting Syndrome, a significant cause of AIDS death. So, in the 1960’s and 70’s, homeless people observed and named AIDS related conditions, but they were so separated from adequate health care in our brutal and unjust, stratified class system, that no one else noticed.
This week I heard a piece on WNYC promoting a new book about Jeffrey Shmaltz, a gay writer at the New York Times who died of AIDS. The interview did not mention that the New York Times was a major force in maintaining social indifference and neglect towards people with AIDS, contributing to the expansion of the epidemic world-wide. The interview did not mention that there were a number of closeted gay men and women at the Times who turned their backs on the gay community and on people with AIDS for years, despite our desperate pleas. It did not mention that ACT UP called them “The New York CRIMES”, that when they got their first fax machine, we faxed them a mile of black paper because of their criminal refusal to cover AIDS. LET THE RECORD SHOW! That homophobia at the New York Times meant that out of the closet journalists who wanted to tell the truth about what was happening to our community could not work at the highest levels of our profession. That out of the closet artists who made work about the reality of our lives under the epidemic, could not get their work understood or often even acknowledged, and demonstrations and zaps and experiences of people with AIDS were rarely even mentioned at the New York Crimes.
On May 21, 1990, ACT UP organized a huge and elaborate action at the National Institute of Health, called STORM THE NIH, focused on insisting that people with AIDS be allowed on governmental boards controlling treatment development and testing. Because our people were literally NOT ALLOWED IN THE BUILDING, folks with AIDS had to stand outside the gates, including many very sick people some of whom were hauled away by police wearing yellow rubber gloves, and these brave people were then arrested.
Seventeen years later, Jim Hubbard and I were invited to the NIH, National Library of Medicine to present the beginnings of the ACT UP Oral History Project. We said that the last time we had been there, we were on the other side of the gate. A woman raised her hand and told us that she was the NIH librarian, and that after demonstrators were taken away in 1990, she went outside and collected some of the left-over signs for the Institute’s archive. And then she made the bone-chilling statement that “We here at the NIH are so grateful that Dr Fauci had the insight to understand that everyone deserved a place at the table.” Jim and I were filled with disbelief. We explained to her and the rest of the NIH staff in attendance that our dead friends fought and struggled until the day they died to FORCE the NIH, AGAINST THEIR WILL, to include people with AIDS as experts on their own disease. LET THE RECORD SHOW.
And when we look at the history of AIDS film and AIDS Theater, we see large-scale mis-representations and inventions embedded in the most rewarded and iconic works. Early on, the most highly praised works about AIDS told a false story of gay people being alone and abandoned by each other, without community or political organization, dependent on benevolent straight people to rescue them. For example, the Oscar winning film PHILADELPHIA, told the story of a gay man with AIDS (Tom Hanks) who needed a lawyer, so he went to a homophobic straight lawyer (Denzel Washington). Why didn't he go to a gay lawyer? Most people with AIDS were defended by gay and lesbian or left-wing lawyers. The actual history is that people with AIDS were NOT defended by homophobic straight lawyers. LET THE RECORD SHOW. But in the Oscar winning movie PHILADELPHIA there is no political gay community in existence for this man with AIDS to turn to. This is a completely false rendition designed to position homophobic straight people as the heroes of AIDS because they HEROICALLY overcome their predjudices to protect the alone gay man.
At the same time there were accurate depictions of upper-class white gay men like The Normal Heart or Longtime Companion that did tell true stories of race and class-based white gay male communities heroically struggling to force the government to act, while they faced mass death. But the problem is not with these stories themselves, but that they became exclusively emblematic of an epidemic, that they only partially represented, while the stories of poor people, of women with HIV, or people of color, of children with HIV were relegated to marginalized venues like underground and community newspapers, or projects like Alexandra Juhasz and Juanita Muhammed’s videos with women of color with AIDS (now showing at The Museum of the City of New York, thirty years after their creation) or Jean Carlomusto and Gregg Bordowitz’s Cable series “Surviving and Thriving With AIDS” for GMHC in the 1980’s.
What is particularly interesting about, for example, Larry Kramer’s THE NORMAL HEART, is that while it enjoyed a very successful run and revival off-Broadway at The Public Theater, it could not move to Broadway or HBO until decades after its creation because corporate entertainment was not ready for a white GAY man to be the hero of AIDS until the epicenter of the epidemic seemed to have passed. LET THE RECORD SHOW.
And while white gay men suffered, were abandoned by their society and abandoned by their families, and died because of the criminal indifference and neglect by the US government, Big Pharma, The Entertainment Industry, and – yes- The New York Crimes- some of those who survived have also contributed mightily to the creation of a false history because they are the only sectors of the community of people with HIV/AIDS who have a voice at the levels of power. We have been subjected to claims by people like Andrew Sullivan, who in 1999 announced “The End of AIDS,” because his friends had good insurance and could get medication. Yet reporters like Black lesbian hero Linda Villarosa , have documented the ongoing crisis for Black women and Black gay and bisexual men over decades. In a 2004, five years after Sullivan claimed “The End of AIDS” Villarosa wrote a two part series for the New York Times showing that the over-incarceration of Black men by white America, made Black women who wanted to have sex with Black men, more vulnerable to the virus because they faced a smaller partner pool with higher rates of infection.
For decades AIDS prevention organizations that are funded and thereby ultimately controlled by the US government and white corporations, have organized their prevention information on the false assumption that Black men who have sex with men have higher HIV rates because they don’t have safe sex, but this was revealed to be untrue when in 2015, Greg Millet (Obama’s senior policy advisor on AIDS) released a study showing that Black men are 3 times more likely than white men to have safe sex, but that – like Black women- if they want Black partners, their chances of encountering someone who is already positive are so much greater, that their risk for infection is way higher than whites. Infection rates caused by racist incarceration and racist deprivation of health care for the poor, were blamed on racist concepts of Black irresponsibility.
Just two weeks ago, Linda Villarosa published a MUST READ cover story in the Sunday Times magazine showing that in the US South, the abandonment of Black gay men is so severe, that they have HIV rates in 2017 that are higher than those of any country in the world, and yet white gay men are still producing and rewarding work that tells us that “we” as a nation have “Survived A Plague" LET THE RECORD SHOW.
And these distortions are evident, even in New York City. Just last week I was told by a social worker that she has seen Juvenile HIV deaths THIS YEAR among her client base but that some of these statistics are hidden under co-morbidity because her clients, who are homeless, may have died of other illnesses that became untreatable because of their advanced HIV disease. In New York City TODAY, half of HIV deaths are diagnosed in the emergency room because our people do not have health care. And a nurse told me last week that people with HIV dementia are being classified under “psychiatric” diagnosis, again obscuring the statistics for the poor.
And finally, what about the New York Crimes? Yes they now publish articles on gay people, gay weddings, gay parenthood. Yes, they do allow writers like Villarosa to publish their pathbreaking research. But what about their on-going coverage? Columbia graduate student Ian Bradley-Perrin did an analytical survey of the Times HIV coverage in the last four years. Any of you who know anything about how stories get into the media know that most features have advanced corporate Public Relations machinery, behind-the-scenes, propelling specific stories and perspectives into print. Almost every profile of an individual, major review of a cultural work, or coverage of a trend is the product of an elaborate backstage campaign that is privately funded. So a pharmaceutical company like Gilead would have a better chance of being covered than, for example, the global trend of HIV criminalization.
Perrin found that since 2013, the Times has had 0 articles on hiv criminalization, 0 articles on the fact that over half of Black transsexual women are HIV positive, 0 articles on adults living today who were born HIV positive 0 articles on the hundreds of thousands of Americans whose parents died of AIDS, 1 article on the specific experience of long-term survivors 3 articles on hiv and opioids, 7 articles on African Americans and HIV, and 28 articles on Prep.
What we are losing is the true history of AIDS, and for this reason, we are losing our contemporary reality. LET THE RECORD SHOW.
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chiccywood · 7 years
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Why "Colossal" Is Wonderfully Weird, Quirky...But Pretty Dark
As of this writing, “Colossal” is only in 224 theaters across the United States. This is no doubt due to the fact that there are high concept movies and then there is “Colossal.” This wonderfully bizarre movie is a genre bouillabaisse with ingredients of science fiction, drama, social commentary, and dark, dark comedy. It has a handful of missteps and some questionable casting, but the overall weirdness of this thing virtually guarantees it will be a box office disaster and right on track to cult classic status. 
This is director/writer Nacho Vigalondo’s first big budget (albeit just a $15 million one) American movie and it’s attracted quite the cast. It also may prove that Vigalondo the Screenwriter is far more clever than Vigalondo the Director as the writing wins out over the images up on the big screen. It also helps that the actors saying his words are an impressive collection of Anne Hathaway, Jason Sudeikis, Dan Stevens, and the criminally underused Tim Blake Nelson. 
Hathaway stars as Gloria, a failed New York writer who has turned into a full time party girl. Her alcoholism and overall selfish behavior leaves her milquetoast boyfriend, Tim (Stevens), no choice but to chuck her out of his apartment. 
Gloria moves back to her now empty parent’s home in her hometown, which looks like Middle America, Anywhere USA. She bumps into her childhood pal, Oscar (Sudeikis), who realizes she’s complete broke and offers her a waitressing job at his bar willed down to him by his father. 
An alcoholic working at a bar is never a good move and Gloria quickly fits right in with Oscar’s drinking buddies, Garth (Nelson) and Joel (Austin Stowell). After an all night bender, Oscar awakens Gloria where she learns that a giant lizard-like monster had attacked Seoul, Korea at 8:05 AM that morning. 
This is where “Colossal” gets super weird. Gloria learns that she is, in fact, the monster and it appears when she walks through a playground located between Oscar’s bar and her parent’s house. She then begins to realize the consequences of her actions and tries to straighten herself up in order to spare the people of Seoul from certain doom. 
The second hour of “Colossal” shifts gears and gets a bit too disturbing, especially after an hour of quirky, clever humor and dialogue. There’s no doubt that Vigalondo has created one giant metaphor for American selfishness and destructive behavior via Gloria’s character, but his script eventually insults Middle Americans as jealous losers or dimwits who have always wanted more from their lives. 
The effects in “Colossal” are about as good as one would expect from a movie with science fiction elements and a smallish budget. However, it calls into question if the limited effects and action are due to the lack of funds or Vigalondo’s limits as a director. Other directors have done far more with a budget like this which propels them to bigger movies so hopefully, this was a deliberate choice by him. 
Jason Sudeikis is fine in the role when he’s funny and kind, but there are times when his small-town boozer gets mean and he doesn’t seem menacing enough. When Sudeikis bows up to Hathaway’s Gloria, there’s always a belief that she could whup him if only because Hathaway seems as tough as nails. 
It’s clear why this script caught Anne Hathaway’s eye and she is at her very best in “Colossal.” She lays on the self-loathing to perfection, but is always aware that she’s pretty, funny, and smart enough to get away with her poor behavior. It only takes her manifestation of an actual monster to realize that she is also a monster, which is the least subtle metaphor of any 2017 movie so far. 
There’s a pretty giant (haha get it?) twist in “Colossal” and it’s best if this is seen without knowing one thing about it. It’s definitely too strange for the mass public, but sci-fi junkies should flock to it. If anything, it’s another fantastically layered performance for Anne Hathaway and keeps her in the discussion as the best actress working in movies today. 
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rilenerocks · 4 years
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A stink bug dropped onto my head while I lay in my bed in the dark, reading on my Kindle before sleep. It’s not the first time I’ve had one appear out of nowhere. Discussions with my  son-in-law lead me to believe that our neighborhood has had quite the invasion this year, the kind when if you flip a piece of wood that’s been lying outside for awhile, hundreds might emerge from their dark place.  In fact, an article appeared last fall, warning that this particular invasive species, mostly a nuisance, also damages crops – one more thing to worry about. A day ago, I read about an insect called the Asian giant hornet which has turned up in the United States, posing a big threat to already endangered honeybees. From what I’ve read, it also packs quite a painful sting when a human gets in its way. East Africa is contending with a second wave of locusts which is being nicknamed “Locust-19,” as this invasion is coinciding with the inexorable advance of Covid19 across the continent. Already threatened, the increased risk of famine will only make life more impossible there than it is already.
Was it only mere months ago that the world’s eyes were focused on the astonishingly devastating wildfires that were racing through Australia, killing millions of animals while destroying homes and poisoning the air? And Indonesia that was struggling its way through massive flooding? California was suffering through a terrible wildfire season while Washington State was being inundated with rain.
These were the headlines we were reading:
Australians flee massive bushfires as new fire threat looms.
The 2020 California wildfire season is a series of wildfires that are burning across the state of California. As of April 30, 2020, a total of 888 fires have burned 1,482 acres (600 ha) according to the California Department of Forestry and Fire Protection.
After 29 straight days of rain, an intense atmospheric river will drench Seattle through the weekend.
And then there was the sudden tragic  death of Kobe Bryant and his daughter,  the shock of which reverberated around the world, a painful reminder of how quickly life can change, how fast lives can end, no matter your age, your health or your privilege. Finally came this coronavirus which swiftly forged to the head of the news cycle and has come to dominate the consciousness of the global citizens everywhere.
All these events reminded me of a time back in college, when it seemed that there were daily events that I’d read about, nature-based and otherwise, which compelled me to start what I called “ The Apocalypse Notebook.” For years, I clipped articles from newspapers and magazines, selecting astonishing articles which were interspersed with average daily stories.  I remember thinking how easy it was to become inured to the unthinkable, those eye-popping tales tucked in between a story of people who’d just celebrated a 60th wedding anniversary and a description of a new restaurant opening. Stories of brutality, stupidity and for me, incredulity when I pondered how easily they came and went, just part of another news day. Here are a few of the headlines from recent times which would’ve made it into my apocalypse notebook, if I was still keeping it up to date.
Husband and wife poison themselves trying to self-medicate with chloroquine.
President Trump Wondered Out Loud If Injecting Disinfectant Could Cure COVID-19.
Kushner calls administration’s coronavirus response “a great success story”
I’m no Nazi, says mom of 7-year-old with swastika.
It’s no small wonder that people are searching for ways to cope and stay healthy through this truly dystopian time. In my part of the world, it’s become clear that my government is turning its attention to kickstarting the economy, pushing aside public health as a number one priority and looking ahead to the effort to re-elect our impossible president. That being the case, it’s become obvious to me that I’m going to have to make my own decisions about how I choose to live going forward, with no access to testing, no proven treatment for Covid19 and far from what I think will be a legitimate vaccine. I’m pondering what the risk vs. reward paradigm means for me.  
You can’t really tell by looking at the photo above, but that is actually a ditch that I had to get hauled out of the other day. One of the ways I’ve used to circumvent social distancing has been to drive to an out of the way place and park my car next to a friend’s so we can roll down our windows and spend a few hours having a foodless meal together. One friend is my breakfast buddy and the other is my weekly lunch date. I’ve actually enjoyed chatting without the usual incumbent meals, as I’m always trying to keep calories at bay. In any case, this nice sunny day meeting took place at a different spot than our normal meeting place. Unbeknownst to us, the ground was saturated by heavy rains from the day before, so my attempt to straighten out my car turned into digging myself into what felt like marshland beneath the wheels. Thankfully, I have an app for that and a nice young man showed up with his tow truck to drag me out of the abyss. My friend and I still had a lovely time. I’m thinking that though I’d like to exchange some hugs other than virtual ones, this mode of interaction is going to suit me for an indefinite time, until I see how this virus situation plays out over the coming months.  An odd choice? Maybe. But I feel uncertain right now and I’ve found a way to not feel so isolated. So that’s one thing.
Then there’s the pool question. I am sorely missing swimming and I mean that both literally and figuratively. I’m one of those humans who feels as comfortable in the water as I do on land. After almost two months of being unable to swim, I feel much less fit than I did before this virus changed everything. My body is stiffer and less fluid in its movements. I’m really grateful that my knee replacement surgeries allow me to take walks as an alternative to swimming. But I don’t get any endorphin rush from walking and I need to go for a lot longer than 40 minutes to feel like I’ve gotten a real workout. So what will I do when the pools finally reopen? I’m really on the fence about my favorite recreational activity. I keep envisioning leaping into a petri dish. Crowds of people splashing around. Locker rooms with so much traffic there’d need to be full-time cleaners to keep up with sanitation. Could I really enjoy myself with that anxiety? Adult swim hours would help but right now, I’m not sure that would be enough for me. So as an alternative I just purchased a below the desk elliptical machine.   Between walking, using this thing and working in my garden, I’m hoping to keep myself healthy and strong. I’ve always been a person who looks ahead. I want to give myself alternatives now, in an attempt to prepare for whatever is coming down the road. Luckily for me, I hate grocery shopping. I think that after having done it for so many years for my family, I just got to the end. Except for when my son is here, I only have myself to worry about. The online services of ordering food and either having a delivery or doing my own pickup is just fine. I don’t think I’d care if I never saw the inside of a grocery store again. But the movies. I am a movie junkie. I can certainly watch movies at home. The plethora of choices in platforms is amazing and I get that. But ever since I attended my first movie at the Iowa Theater in downtown Sioux City, “The Giant Claw,” I’ve been irresistibly drawn to sharing the darkness and the flickering images reflected on the faces in the audience, the smell of fresh popcorn with Milk Duds tossed into the container as a warm chocolatey surprise. I haven’t seen a theater movie  in months. Michael and I shared that love of movies. Before we had kids, we’d go a couple of times a week. When the babies came, I popped them into their Snuggli and kept them quiet by nursing them throughout the films. When will I go back to a theater? I guess that depends on how reopening looks. The same is true for restaurants. I don’t want to be crammed into any crowded waiting spaces. Maybe al fresco is the way to go. Picnics in the park with carry out seems like a good alternative. That is, unless the giant hornets take up residence in this town.
Trump Says Some States Will Be Able To Open ‘Literally Tomorrow’ If They Want To.
Maybe if there was a real national plan, I wouldn’t be busy with trying to figure out who I’m going to be for awhile. But there isn’t a national plan. All the states are on their own. So I’m just thinking about daily life. I’m not contemplating anything really big like whether I have taken my last trip, whether I’ll ever travel again. The biggest thing for now is to try to stay well, for myself and my family, overburdened with the complications of working from home and educating their kids. And there’s my son with his Phd, postdocs and no job market because of the pandemic trashing of higher education, along with everything else. All I can think of regarding him is that health insurance is expensive and what if the government eliminates the Affordable Care Act? The terror of no national health care.  So, yeah, I’m going to be careful and slow. No malls for me. I’m going to auto-visit, grow a ponytail and work in my yard for the next few months. What about you?
About That Apocalypse Notebook… A stink bug dropped onto my head while I lay in my bed in the dark, reading on my Kindle before sleep.
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bountyofbeads · 5 years
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Can we get past the idea that politics is a reality show? Not if CNN has anything to do with it.
https://wapo.st/2GFl2QR
Can we get past the idea that politics is a reality show? Not if CNN has anything to do with it.(AGREED)
By Hank Stuever | Published August 01 at 8:00 AM ET | Washington Post | Posted August 1, 2019 2:52 PM ET |
Lately there’s a strange caution in the air about the intellectual pitfalls of comparing American politics to the performing arts — or worse, to showbiz. Be careful what you say about optics. Watch your words on the subject of appearance and presence; be wary of identifying playfully fictional metaphors amid such serious national and global crises. Above all, stop comparing the gathering mess of the 2020 presidential campaign season to television, particularly to (insert moralistic scowl here) reality TV.
Funny, I felt that way all through the 2016 election that gave us President Trump: The glee of defining his rise as a reality show with a profane breakout star landed us right in the middle of the worst reality show ever made. Such comparisons portray the ­reality-TV genre in broadly demeaning strokes. It’s a characterization ginned up by the kind of people who never watch TV, except cable news.
So can we possibly get past the idea that politics is a reality show?
Fat chance. Having subjected us to two nights of garishly adorned, overproduced, conflict-obsessed live “debates” among a field of 20 Democratic hopefuls (its own delusional gridlock of egos), CNN and the Democratic National Committee summoned the worst aspects of some of TV’s most popular genres and visual tropes.
The overall tone, of course, was cable-news alarmism, but the ­debates also resembled those ­celebrity-packed, prime-time game shows that litter the schedule all summer. One also got wafts of the blaring bombast of professional football broadcasts, and, yes, the stage-managed awkwardness of the lesser styles of reality TV.
“We are playing right into Republican hands,” one of the candidates, Sen. Cory Booker (N.J.), said during Wednesday night’s debate, in which CNN’s tenor of questioning seemed determined to portray a gamut of Democratic policy and beliefs as chronic afflictions rather than workable ideas. Candidate Andrew Yang, in his closing remarks, also went meta in the moment, pointing out the absurdity of the format, the game itself, where more people will notice his lack of a necktie than his platform.
And while the candidates were necessarily prepared to spar with one another (otherwise known as campaigning), CNN’s format facilitated a frenetic game of human darts, with questions designed to goad the jabbing. It was a never-ending two-night competition of lightning rounds, in 30- and 15-second rebuttals to one-minute answers.
Tuesday night’s opening round felt like a series of people being interrupted in mid-sentence, with CNN anchors Jake Tapper, Dana Bash and Don Lemon calling time limits as soon as anyone had anything interesting to say. Wednesday night was only slightly better, but never quite achieved the mood of actual discourse.
Instead, we were watching CNN make television — pieces and bites and clips of which it can repurpose into more programming fodder, days’ worth of pundit banter, befitting the network that overhyped the event for weeks with name-drawings, a countdown clock and relentless reminders to watch.
Even the set for the debate in Detroit’s Fox Theatre, which CNN boasts took 100 people eight days to build (using 25 cameras, 500-plus lights and 40,000 pounds of equipment), seemed like a vulgar example of what we’ve turned our politics into. It overwhelmed the sturdy and ornate authenticity of the palatial 5,000-seat theater, which was constructed in 1928 and built to last. CNN’s frantic impermanence insulted the structure’s beauty.
But that could be any of us these days — lit up like Christmas, in a panic, short of attention, looking for conflict, and then moving on to the next thing. Less than reality TV, this week’s debates put me more in mind of Showtime’s occasionally entertaining but utterly useless political junkie show, “The Circus,” in which three insidery correspultants (my word) just sort of show up wherever “politics” seems to be occurring, so as to add to a heap of speculative analysis and then rush to the next airport.
That’s the state of the 2020 campaign right now — premature, oversupplied, overanxious and, as several of the Democratic hopefuls noted on both nights, prone to using Republican talking points to eliminate one another as too left or too centrist or just too-too. This is only great TV if you’re the guy in the White House.
If CNN were being run thoughtfully instead of manically, a debate this many months away from the primaries would look less like “American Ninja Warrior” and more like one of those nights when “This American Life” rolls into town and everyone gets a free tote bag. Let’s talk. Let’s explain. Let’s meet some candidates with some stories to tell about how they can win. The candidates could have been seated in wing-backed chairs. The lights could be lower. They could have been allowed to finish their sentences. The debates would run longer (maybe three nights), but more calmly.
The DNC itself set a more useful mood during the pre-show, bringing out the Perfecting Church choir on the first night, offering a rousing national anthem from Dee Dee Bridgewater on the second, and personable pep talks from DNC Chair Tom Perez, who on Tuesday night urged voters to “speed date” the candidates; don’t settle down yet. Date around, Perez said, “fall in love with multiple people,” until you find the right replacement for President Trump. Politics keeps trying to mimic “American Idol” and “The Apprentice,” but does a better answer perhaps lie in “The Bachelor,” with flirtation and roses?
Wishful thinking, I freely admit. I find it difficult to take CNN’s approach as seriously as CNN does — this many candidates, this early, trying this hard to get to a date on the calendar that (we can only hope) will get here when it gets here.
CNN got most of what it came for (jibber-jabber for future chyrons) but maybe not the ratings it desired. Around 9 million TV viewers tuned in Tuesday night, far fewer than the 15 to 18 million who watched NBC’s two-night debates in June. (CNN says another 2.8 million watched Tuesday’s debate online. Wednesday’s TV ratings improved, with an estimated audience of 10 million.) Better than a “Walking Dead” episode, but low enough to get a taunting tweet from the president.
The candidates got some good licks in, uttered some lines we’ll forget by the weekend (“Go easy on me, kid”; “Stop yelling!” “I don’t understand someone who takes the trouble to run for president of the United States just to talk about what we cannot do and what we shouldn’t fight for,” and so on.)
There was so much of it as to be too much of it, and unfortunately, that’s all CNN really wanted. After the first night, as some went weirdly gaga for Marianne Williamson’s intergalactic message of love and justice (she’s an expert at telling people exactly what they want to hear, and not a bad TV character herself, as if she were conjured out of old “West Wing” reruns), I found a curious affinity for the closing remarks of Tim Ryan, the Ohio congressman who wound up nearly riffing on an old pop song: “There’s not going to be a savior,” he said. “Not going to be a superstar that will fix all this. It’s going to be you and me — ”
And we just disagreeeee.
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livingwatersvoice44 · 6 years
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“7EVEN”
Greed
The Jones Family
It was a beautiful summer day early Saturday morning, Blake Jones pulled up to he and his families new home. The Uhaul was packed to the brim all twenty-five square feet of it. He had his wife Marva and his two lovely twin boys Jake and Josh.
The entire family were good looking chaps. Blake was slender to muscular build. He was six feet two, he wore his dark almost black hair similar to a crew cut with a very neatly groomed square goatie. He was on the darker olive skin tone side where Marva was very fair, nearly pale white, with freckles that gave her some tone. She was a deep red redhead with glorious green eyes with sparkling golden flecks of light in them.
The boys Jake took after his mother red head but short and frumpy unlike his dad. Josh was taller as they were fraternal twins. Yes, and Josh was the ladies man amongst the two of them. Jake was the more studious of the two and was mastering science math and chemistry on levels that cause his previous highschool to pay for science camps for him the past two years. Now they are here moving to 7even where they know no one.
Everyone was grateful that the family was together and safe. So if dad got a new job or promotion, they were all prepared to be uprooted and moved on to the next city or state.
But this place was absolutely gorgeous. As they drove up to 1111 Billion Dollar ave. the excitement of the style and condition of the house gave everyone a since of arrival. They had finally got their piece of the pie.
The driveway was long and wide guarded by two large black posts attached to a black metal gated fence, which marked the entire perimeters of the grand chateaux. It was in the center of the back road in their development and the marble and slate stone gave proof it was elite amongst the many nice homes in 7even.
All the homes were very large, spacious, and simply gorgeous. Yet, not like the home the Jones’s just bought almost at theft prices. It was a beauty in its own right. There was a wrap around patio porch that formed a semicircle about the back side of the mansion but visible from the front of the home. Every window was bay watching style, except the top floor bedrooms, where those windows actually opened to the boarders personal balcony protected with awnings. The Jones family had a car garage not just a car port.
They moved in eagerly to get settled in to their fresh new life.
Blake has been installed as Supreme Courts Chief Justice for one year now, but the perks of the life is what drove his ambition. He came from a poverished community, with a deadbeat as a dad and a heroine junkie for a mother. Blake basically raised himself and now he has brought he and his family to this point. He had accomplished Alpha Male and his family’s nobility above their origin was his national anthem.
He never looked back to his home town. Why should he? No one loved him there not his family nor did he have friends. It was best to let dead dogs die. To him that’s what he felt about all of the inhabitants of his home town.
The new town seemed quiet enough. There were beautiful green spaces all over 7even. The town was a small piece of heaven for the Jones family.
Marva was a home maker and an excellent wife and mother. She home schooled the boys, she was an excellent teacher and cook. Marva was God fearing and godly. Blake believed in himself and his own strength. He taught the boys this, although Marva always counteracted him with the truth of God each time. She was very much tunnel visioned when it came to her son’s souls.
Blake starts work next week, so everyone spent the free week unpacking, organizing, and mapping out the town for stores, movie theaters and shopping centers and such. He had the world in the palm of his hand and he believed it was truly his oyster.
Blake walked into the kitchen to find his lovely wife cooking his favorite meal, broccoli florets, rice and gravy with cube steak and a tossed salad with garlic bread. He hugged her from behind and said, ” Hi honey it smells as wonderful as you look.” Marva turned to him, looked him in the eyes, this was her hero for sure. She was with him when he lived in abandoned buildings and houses. He never asked her to leave the comforts of her family’s home to join him in his misery. He just asked that she trust he would get out of there and to stand by him, and she did.
She said, “Blake, I love you, you’re too kind to me. I am the most blessed woman on earth to have such an honorable upstanding man such as yourself. You came from the bottom litterally and look where you’ve brought our entire family to. You are my hero and don’t you ever forget that. You’re the best husband to me and greatest father ever to the boys. We love, cherish, and adore you.” He blushed just a little, kissed her on her collar bone, spinned her around gave a quick pat on her buttocks, then said, ” I’m setting my man cave up, call me when dinners ready.”
Time went by fast, before they new it, it was Monday morning and Blake’s first day of work. He was the man as soon as he walked the thirty three stairs that lead up to this auspicious building and enter the doors. They were expecting him. He was the talk of 7even. No one this powerful and important ever lived amongst them. So much of the chatter and excitement in the building were neighbors he had not met yet who came to see him in person.
Blake never felt so important ever in his entire life. He felt important to his family always, but to regular Joe’s he felt they could see his shame from being once a vagabond. Not, today he sucked in all the praises and well wishes as well as gifts of appreciation he had not quite earned yet.
He was an absolute just judge who believed in people, and the spirit of forgiveness, but if he decided against you there was no appeal because all honored his integrity especially court case watchers, they loved watching him in action every chance they could. The boy was good at what he does. God must have anointed him with the spirit of wisdom and righteous judgement.
After a year or so of sitting in the highest seat in judicial law, he had made some pretty wealthy powerful people as friends. More wealthy and more powerful than he, were his new found friends. He ate dinner with the United States President and played golf with the Prince of England, as well as observed mass with the Pope. At this point he was assured he had arrived and his parents were no more a thought on his mind, just like his home town he erased them from his conscious world.
One day a short gentleman around five foot two inches tall, reddish skin, dark haired, thick mustached and a little ruddy, walked into his chambers unannounced and unaccompanied by a deputy.
He stood up quickly as this caught him off guard. ” Sir, are you lost?” he asked. “No sir, I am not,” the hispanic accented man responded. ” I came to see you about a three point five million dollar problem I have.” Blake responded, ” what would be the problem of such a fine?” Blake was astounded by such an astronomical price for a fee. The man said, ” My daughter is home now, but facing a double homicide and it has been referred up to your court because of how heinous the crime was.” Blake shifted in his seat, ” that’s a heck of a bond” he thought, but only if she flees should her father be worried. ” Sir, so why are you here in my chambers, you posted that bond to get her out now what do you want of me?”
The man let’s just call him Alejandro, said, ” That’s not her bail. That’s your payment for over turning the other judge and finding her not guilty. Her ex-husband that bastard s.o.b. cheated on her and abused her, beat her baby out of her and was caught in sex when she killed thr both people. That is a crime of passion. They said because she had left the home for weeks before this day that she planned to return once she knew he had moved on, therefore catching him in the act and committing premeditated murder.”
Blake asked the man for every detail of the case. So, when Alejandro’s daughter’s case did come before him, he knew exactly how to handle it. He did dismiss all the charges against the young lady and set her free, while three point five million dollars was instantly transferred into his personal bank account. He was floored when he left the bench and checked his account balance.
He almost fainted. He had never seen that much money in his life and may never earn that much in a life time as a servant to the public.
That night he told Marva of his miracle. She was very disturbed by her husbands decision to take a bribe. ” Blake, you’re going to give that back. That’s bribery and you just jumped into a peranas pool and they will eat you alive if you don’t back out now.”
“Marva just let me handle what I must handle. You just keep this house and the boys up and I will make sure we are never in lack.” Blake said as he kissed her on the cheek and went on into his man cave to make calls to some of his new found colleagues.
That night Blake Jones had a dream, or was it a vision? While he was in dream state a small little grey man came to him he seemed to be in the right spirit enough. ” Blake you deserve this money. Don’t let your wife ruine this for you. Keep your eye on her she may betray you. You were dirt poor she should be grateful you have found your way. She benefits from it as well. Keep her away from all of your doings. We must protect ourselves,” whispered GREED into his ear as he slept and drempt of all the beautiful material gains he was now acquiring. He could buy and pay for a small island if he desired why wouldn’t his wife want this for them after all he had suffered in life. He tossed and turned all night long. He woke up with his mind made up. He would continue to rule his home as he pleased. Marva just better enjoy her free ride and stay out of his way and keep her mouth.
There was so much going on with the boys now, they were not aware of how well off they had become, nor did they have a clue of where the money came from. Jake was being awarded as always for a math or science projects. Josh has his football and the best looking cheerleader was his new girlfriend the boys were living their best life. It didn’t take long before they fit in and found their sweet spot in their new town and school sytem.
Marva was home making and praying. She went to the local prayer meeting that went on in the community she lived in. Every Tuesday evening seven pm til eight o’clock pm. She always had dinner prepared for the men folk in her home.
Blake said, she was in a cult jokingly. He seemed to truly believe it in his heart. Although he joked about it he worried she was being brainwashed by the local bible thumpers. He secretly hoped she would just keep all of her new exciting finds to herself. She was always talking to him about reaping what you sow. He did not like her talking to him about this voodoo mojo stuff these bible toting ocultists taught her.
As time went by Blake accepted more bribes and got his hands padded more and more at the expense of spilled innocent blood. He was just connected with a Cuban drug Lord El Delrado. Now, he was well over his head now, and had no clue, how much of a slave he just became.
The Jones’s were very popular in their community in 7even. Neighbors were always gifting them and keeping an eye out for ways to get close to the family. They threw the best parties and dinners as well as barbeques. Everyone wanted to be one of the VIP on the Jones’s guest list.
One evening on a Friday, during one of their gatherings, the telephone rang. It was for Blake. One of ElDorado’ s underlings was on the line. “Blake you gotta get to the cathedral over by the court house. You must come alone and make sure you are not followed.” Blake could not get a word out before the phone line went dead.
Marva noticed the flushed look that came over her husbands face. “What could it be.” She wondered. She approached him with love in her eyes and a prayer in her heart. She felt the negative vibe in the air. ” Blake is everything ok?” “Marva tend to the party, I will be back shortly.” He kissed her and grabbed his key and jacket then proceeded to the cathedral over by the court house.
The cathedral was lit up like a Christmas tree. That’s odd for a mobster to want to meet here but oh well, he went on inside. As he passed through the vestibule a tall darker skinned Hispanic man walked up to him quickly patted him down. Then he grabbed Blake’s arm like he was a criminal and lead him to the basement where El Dorado was waiting sitting at a huge oval oak table. He looked very perplexed.
” My ship was held up, the FBI and secret service had nothing to do with the hold up. It was the petty local police. What I need is to get my ship back and have any charges against my crew redirected to whoever you choose, and I want all but ten percent of my product back you can do with that what you please. If you get me,” he said to Blake and gave a wink.
” I’m no drug Lord,” said Blake. You can find someone else to help you with this. Plus I wouldn’t know what to do or where to begin.”
” Blake Jones, I don’t care what you are talking about. You are a man of powerful influence and I am a war and drug Lord. We both have insurmountable power and influence. You need to use your power and to never forget about mine.” El Dorado stood up walked over to Blake and handed him a manilla envelope. He pat Blake on the chest with the packet. This is addition to your ten percent if my product that you may do with what you will.
Get me my ship, and my boys you keep the money, drugs, and your life my boy.” He pat him open handed on the left side of his face twice like he was an elder of Blakes.
Blake wasn’t sure if he was to be afraid angry or excited about so much more money. But, how does he get rid of the drugs. He was no drug dealer or user.
He would never mention one word of this to Marva like his dream warned him prior to today, she might betray him if she had too much information. Plus, she was bible thumping now, so that kept her busy enough and out of his way and ear.
About a month later Blake came up missing and no one from the Court House knew where he went after he left work that evening.
He had a very secretive way of life now. Marva called his cell over and over. He had his phone turned off. She could tell because the phone went directly to voice mail every time she called. Her nerves were shot. He was never late for dinner and he was now five hours late. It was ten-thirty pm and well after their bed time.
Officers told her they could do nothing until he had been missing at least twenty-four hours. She was sick to think about him not making it back home safely to her and the boys. Marva was in panic mode and she just could not contain herself. She blurted out,”all of this God forsaken bribery and blackmailing.” The officer closest to her said, “ma’am I heared you, you better be quiet and watch your back. Those folk in those places will have you moved. Don’t accuse your husband of things you aren’t sure of nor can you prove.”
Marva got chills while he spoke, not from his words, but from the look in his eyes. They were so cold and still it gave her a death chill, that made her shutter right down to her bones.
Around twelve o’clock Blake came to join Marva in bed. She seemed to be already asleep. He didn’t try to bother her. He kissed her forehead and headed to the shower. Marva was wide awake she felt just a little nervous about her husbands new behaviors. She didn’t know what she should do. She laid there quietly listening to the shower and eventually did fall completely asleep and dreamed of him hanging in his chambers by a huge red roped cord.
The next morning she was without words as she prepared breakfast for her three men. They were all about to head out into the world today. She felt like everything in her world was teetering and she was the only one who was aware. As she was fixing everyone’s lunch for the day, she hummed an old gospel song. ” I know Jesus will fix it.” But, there’s been so very many years of the name of Jesus not being spoken aloud into the atmosphere of the Jones’s home.
Blake seemed to be irritated. He grabbed his lunch kissed Marva on the cheek and went on out the door telling the boys to have a great day. He looked at his family and smiled. He was winning and no one was able to stop him.
Blake’s cell phone began to ring as he drove on to work. He answered to a very heavy German accented fellow.
” Blake?” The voice said on the other end. “Blake Jones?” The voice asked once more. “Yes, this is he,” responded Blake. “To whom am I speaking?””I am Von, Von Vladimir Lenin. I am with the national federal bonding association. NFBA. We have been informed of suspicious behaviors and heinous acts from your bench and chambers.”
“What?” Blake responded as clueless as an innocent victim being put on trial. “Sir,” Von went on. “We are alerting you because of your prestige, instead of bumb rushing you, we would like for you to come to us. There will be an escort waiting for you once you get to the court house. They will be suited in black, with black shades on.”
Blake begin to panic, what could they know. All mouths that could be against him and his circle of shady business associates were sleeping in cement or with the fishes. “What do they know, what proof do they have?”
A small voice came into his mind like a memory, “Blake get out of this fast” it was Marva’s words but, the voice wasn’t her voice. “Yeah, she’s been talking to neighbors and church members trying to get advice on what she should do about your new found winnings that make her feel awful,” said Deciet.
Immediately veangence swooped down into his other ear. ” Get rid of her big mouth, she doesn’t love you, she’s not backing you, she hasn’t slept with you since you started really building this families real future up. She is not a team player. Find a younger prettier woman who will enjoy the luxuries you’re providing.”
“She must go tonight set it up quickly and get it done. Send her out for take out and have her done away from home, so it doesn’t lead back to you. Have someone clean this investigation up. You’ve got the money to make it all go away.”
That night Blake sent the boys out to the movies and dinner with the lady of their choice all expenses paid by him. They were so excited dates and they didn’t have to spend a dime. They dare not question it nor second guess it this was all around a win win situation.
Getting Marva to leave was harder than he thought. He could not think of how to send her for takeout as she had like always prepared their dinner. He wanted to tell her he needed something from the store but he feared she’d know better.
Marva walked into the man cave where he sat there studying and plotting her death. He asked as she approached, ” So who all have you told that your husband is a money launderer?” ” What did you say to me Blake Jones?” She asked as if startled and disturbed. ” I don’t talk about your little petty job to anyone. You were my king once and now a total disgrace and I am ashamed of you and your work and moral compass. You don’t ever have to worry about me telling your wicked secrets. I really just want a divorce and to be free of you and the debt of death you’re bringing upon our entire family and bloodline.”
Before he knew it he hit her over the head with a paper weight he had been holding in his hand the entire time he was trying to work out how to get her to leave. “That’s right,” said rage. ” Hit her again, she’s not dead. If she lives she will tell eveything.” Blake struck her about the top and back of her head three to four more times until he heared the death rattle, she gave up her last breath.
Blake checked for a pulse, she was dead alright. Fear came in and spoke up. ” We need to get rid of the corpse. Wrap her up in the rug before the blood starts to saturate it and stain the floor. Now evidence can be left behind.” He began to roll her up when a banging came to the front door.
He went to answer the door it was the police. ” Your Honor, we know your in there. Come out with your hands in the air Blake Jones, NOW! The voice yelled. We got a call from one of your neighbors, they said they could see you hitting your wife in the head with an object and she fell. Let us in, let us see your wife, come out Blake.”
He was now in full panic mode. “OH God what have I done?” He ran upstairs into his closet where he found an old three roped cord that his mom told him was the cord of his heritage and as long as he had it the Jones favor from God would always be on his life and cover him from all harm. He took a side table from the bed into the closet and stood atop it. He hooped the cord over the hook he hung up for whatever reason. Now, he would use it to escape this place. He wrapped the loop around his neck. The officers were in his home yelling and searching. He kicked the table from beneath him and in less than three minutes, total darkness welcomed him.
Lord Death was there when he opened his eyes. He wasn’t grinning the Grim Reaper grin, no he looked hungry and Blake’s soul looked like a snack. “No, no, noooo, yelled Blake but it was much too late. The self hanging brimming his fate and there was no returns on these purchases. Grim licked his lips and the thought of Blake’s existence was no more. He was good and dead and gone thanks to Greed and his children. Evil had triumphed over good.
It wasn’t long before Jacob and his twin brother Joshua were pulling into the main gates of their sweet little community 7even. Turning down the road that lead around to their home is when they noticed all the emergency lights lighting up the entire back road. They proceeded forward with caution only to be blocked from their home by so many service vehicles and neighbors all out in the road just standing around. They were looking toward the boys house.
Jake panicked and jumped out of the vehicle. Josh followed him. The run to the house seemed like eternity. There was yellow tape sectioning off their entire property line enclosing the home. Jake started under the caution tape as an officer stopped him, Josh yelled “this is our house, our parents are in there, get out the way.”
The officer bear hugged both boys at once. He said, “Guys there has been a terrible accident. We can not let you proceed.”
Josh began to go into a rageous fit ” let me go, let me go, where’s my mother, where’s she at, where’s my mom?” He cried out so hard the EMT told the officer to please allow the boy to approach. As Josh approached the back of the ambulance he saw the black satin sheet covering a body. ” It’s not mom,” he said and refused to go any closer than ten feet of this false dream he was in. The officer grabbed his arm just as he felt weak in his knees and buckled to the ground.
Jake walked on past him directly to the body, he pulled the sheet back to see his mom’s disfigured face. Blood pools and knots covered her head and face. ” Mommy,” he squealed. “Where’s my dad, where’s my dad? He is going to have a fit, my dad is going to die, she was his everything.” He ran toward the house yelling “Dad, daddy, dad, it’s mommy, where are you dad? Mom’s hurt really bad, daddy?”
There were officers by the stairway and all upstairs. He ran up the stairs just as Josh was joining him, they saw the firemen cutting his father down from the ceiling and a thud that shook both boys to their knees. They howled, Josh ran down the stairs, he began to vomit he couldn’t contain the trauma. He screamed up to the sky, ” what happened God, tell me what happened. Help me understand. God, what happened?” He bawled and yelled at the sky, punching at the air as to be boxing an invisible force.
Jake simply walked out onto the front porch and sat in the middle of the first step. He had a look on his face of a man who had exited his body and was no more good. Jake was frozen with a soulless blank blunt efface. He was thrown way aback. “What could have happened here, and why? Is this what his dad planned to do when he sent them to the movies? Mom, never cheated she was a wonderful wife and mother. What, what happened?” His mind blocked him in and no one could get in there with him. He sat as the workers cleared the home of his parents bodies and collected evidence. He was frozen in time and could not break himself free.
Eventually the funerals were behind them. There was a knock on the door. Josh opened the door. There was a very tall being standing there nor male or female just a being. It entered the home asking for Jake’s attention as well. Neither twin felt fear or awkward for some reason or another.
The being spoke you”I am Manakel, I am from the order of Gabriel who presides directly under our Father/mother creator God Ahhyah Eshu! I’m sent to set things aright with you. I’m here to tell you a story of a spirit name GREED. He and his minions over took your dad in his weakness for wealth, power, and authority. You see your dad practically raised himself, and was very poor barely having enough food in his body to keep alive. It was his strong will and shear determination to survive and surpass his poverished beginning that made him become very studious and eventually attaining the highest judicial state on a local level.
Your dad was driven by GREED and fear to cause us all to end up where we are now. I’m come to do three things. Help you understand and forgive your dad and the events that took both your parents from you. Two, to warning you of protecting your gates you have six, your eyes should not be allowed to watch any and everything that comes out on the tv or movie screens.
Your ear gates, cater what you listen to to what you want your spirit to recieve. The mouth gate, only speak that which is truth and of good faith and cheer. Those hands and your body are your touch gates, don’t touch or be touched by that which can defile your judgement and make you weak to sin. Your nose gate and it is subtle, sweet smells that remind you of good times or certain people, can lead you toward seduction and destruction, and the last gate the ethereal gate, it is the hardest to protect as it is left unguarded every time you are asleep, allowing subliminal messages to seep into your subconscious mind. Try prayer and meditation on what is good, what is true and what is holy. Ask your angels to guard and protect you while you sleep and always thank God for allowing this protection before you fall asleep and all will be well.seven
You must keep guard also over your soul and heart. Do not allow it to become worn with the cares, fears, and sorrows of this earth’s plane. For depression is a living grave. When pain is greatly felt, it is wise for one to take a pause from the world for a reset. We all can benefit from this, from time to time!
Boy’s know that God is alive and well. He is love and has provided that you should never work or toil a day in your lives thanks to the love that drove your dad to work his behind off. Your dad loved you both to pieces and he adored your mother.
The man that destroyed this home was not your dad, but an avatar for the wicked one and his evil children. Never let yourselves, get too hungry, too lonely, too sad or bored before you start talking to your angels and God and you will be just fine.”
It has to have been an angel that spoke with them, because as soon as the speaking ended he vanished into thin air unlike when he knocked on the door to get in. In the midst of the talk both boys hearts and minds were healed and put at ease. They would forever remember to protect all seven of 7even’s gates from this day forward.
  Wrath
“Meet the Phillips”
“Wow, look at the beautiful enormous trees.” Robbie said, as his Dad Robert Phillips turned into their driveway at 1515 Crabapple st. in 7even. ” Yes they are very verdant and lusciously green,” responded Rhonda.
The house was a creamy tan colored vinyl siding and olive green window trimmings. The roof is olive green made of tin.The front porch was broad and enclosed by a brick wall structure that’s waist high with cement slab tops. It’s a one story twenty thousand square foot, five bedroom, three baths and fire places. This was ideal for the triple R’s new home.
Rhonda dressed the home in all the seasons of the year. Her kitchen was warm but fall exciting. The Living room, Summer colors and alive and thriving, she dressed her bedroom in dream like surroundings that allowed awakening to pleasant emotions.
The two men in the house always knew to get on out of her way and do what they want with their private spaces. Robert Phillips had dreamed of this type of space his whole life. His parents did pretty well, but they had seven children and he was a twin, so he always shared a bedroom. Now he had his own man cave. He put pictures up of Bruce Lee, Super Man, Black Panther, and the Dallas Cowboys original starting line-up. He hung a street sign from his old neighborhood right over the entry way of the door.
He mounted a seventy-two inch screen t.v. on the wall opposite of the nurf basketball goal. He built his own room of joy especially with all his game consoles and movie selections as well as all of his favorite music on disk. The only reason to leave his home is to golf and bowl, because the pool table was in the basement. “Yeah, life’s going to work out after all.” He thought to himself.
Robbie was a nine year old boy genius. He was solving numerical problems at age three,and that first startled his parents almost to fear. Now he is in tenth grade classes but, home and student portal with his mother’s assistance. This was more for his safety and security as he was small for his own age less knowing being surrounded by enormous fourteen and fifteen year olds running the halls and pushing and bumping him along.
Robert Phillips had a golfing game that was with some of his new buddies that were residents at the facility he had just become chief Neuro Pathologists and master surgeon. This guy had extraordinarily impeccable nerves of steel and a hand steady as a pin is straight. His hand eye coordination was uncanny and these fellas out here although most were younger than he by five to ten years, were about to remember his name and why around the office they call him the ” Slice and Dice. Yes the greens was his play ground and his favorite putter was his precision tool. They were not ready for this beat down his so masterfully prepared to hand them without remorse.
Rhonda was home all the time baking and cleaning and meeting the neighbors sharing sweets and recipes. She met Jake and Josh who now wanted to only Go by their full names Jacob and Joshua. Rhonda marked them as very well put together astute young men. She liked everyone in seven. She had plenty to do and she never was bored.
She signed up for the local Pta although she homeschooled her son, he was just as part of the school system as any student that sat in a classroom and she kept him to the schedule. She loved dancing so she signed up for and afternoon samba class and jazzersize. The local Parrish also heared about her charitable heart and asked for her assistance on every Thursday noon. She went there and served food to less fortunate people during the lunch hour. She also crocheted and made scarfs, mittens and blankets for the homeless people for winter. She was a busy little bee and Robert and Robbie adored her, she was their very own angel and they knew it.
” I found a church, the pastor is close to our age and he’s filled with the word.” Robert spoke. ” I mean he is over flowing and although he lost his wager against me, I am tempted to yet appease his request to come hear him preach Sunday.” Well, his two R’s were ready to return to church so, both were very excited at his find. ” Would y’all like to go try it out with me?” “Yes,” the two said simultaneously with excitement and joy! He was pleased, his family was all he has here five hours away from home so, he meant to keep them close, safe, and protected.
He was a praying man and his wife a prayer warrior. He got everyone up extra early that Sunday morning, the smell of Turkey bacon and grits, eggs, and toast and Rhonda could smell coffee. “Oh honey good morning it smells wonderful,” she said as she approached him by the stove while tying her robe belt to secure it. She stood up on her tippy toes and gave him a kiss. The Phillips didn’t shun morning breath, they shunned not showing affection and using such things as an excuse. Nope the love was real around here and all knew it.
The Phillips blended into the neighborhood well. Robbie had plenty boys his age after school hours, to run and ride his bike or four wheeler with. Rhonda had her social clubs and volunteer groups and big Rob had his man cave and a golf course so perfectly manicured he’d cry every time it was freshly cut. He went by on cut days to tip the mower company. Yes, this was the life. He had God his wife and son and humanity around him seemed to be quite alright.
It was dark and cold and the rain was pouring sheets so heavy, head lights on your car were of no effect! Rob had been called in around two am that dreary Thursday morning. He was called in for an emergency brain surgery. The patient was admitted for a severe migraine and upon running many different tests the CAT SCAN showed a quarter sized mass with several smaller scattered spots indicating according to the reports an aneurysm and a bad one. Dr. Phillips was always speedy to the call.
His patient was a black male between age forty to forty-five, dark skin toned with full lips, wide nose, and deep dark chocolate oval eyes. He was gripping at his head from both sides, ” please make it stop doc,” said the man seemingly around five feet nine to ten inches tall, guessing by how he fit the bed. He was also very muscular and athletically built. “What could be going on inside his head to bring this magnificent being to such a point of weakness.” Robert thought to himself, as he believes all of creation is beautiful and absolutely differently made wonderfully in God’s image. He rushed away after giving the patient a good look over and reviewing the nurses notes on the man, to have a look for himself at the scan result.
While sitting in the public station for doctors and nurses in the county hospital, Dr. Phillips was startled at what he saw as soon as the lab delivered their scan results directly to him, hand to hand. He saw the anyuerism and he had an idea it had attacked smaller vessels to avoid complete rupture. He had to move fast and create a release of pressure and drain point.
After a very successful three hour long procedure, Rob walked out to the awaiting family members with a very serious but happy stance. ” I am pleased to let you know he made it through surgery and is breathing on his own. He had a granular myeloma erupt in his head that is much like a sack that fills up with blood and can cause sever pain and can lead to internal bleeding and death. It’s good he was able to get here and we could resolve the issues. He can have visitors in about thirty minutes.God bless you all.”
Later in the day Rhonda had food ready and waiting for her husband. Robbie was on break with the school schedule so to stay in line with that he was in relax mode. Rob sat down at the table very tired and hungry. Rhonda went to run him a bath. She put green alcohol and Epsom salt in the hot water. She was very attentive to her men folk, her two R’s. She loved them dearly. She went into the bedroom and pulled Rob’s favorite T-shirt and old joggers out and laid them across the toilet seat lid.
Rob finished his well thought out meal and headed to the bath area where he found the peace his wife had just created for him. He was good at absorbing and appreciating her efforts. He always let her know he was worth every thing she does for him to keep and care for him.
Rhonda was a very sexual being. Nobody knew how very sexual she was but Rob, so he felt blessed that everyone viewed her as the good ole Christian motherly lady, but behind closed doors he was her personal secret love stallion. Rob had no problems with keeping his wife’s dirty little secret between the two of them. He teased and tempted her every chance he could and he had a trick up his sleeve for her tonight.
” Hey, honey can you please come wash my back?” I’m so restless I’m sure it will help if you give me a good scrub down.” Rhonda entered the room and sat on a stool she bought for this. As she washed her hubby’s back he started flicking water at her and giggling. She started getting antsy she could feel his prank joke energy rising, so she tried to take off and run from the bathroom, but it was too late. He grabbed her wrist too quickly, before she knew it she was fully dressed in the tub soaked up and down and Rob was laughing and kissing and tickling her all over. “Robert Phillips how dare you,” she said in a I’mma get you back playful tone.
As soon as she could find a grip she pulled the plug to drain the water from the tub. Then she stood up, took all of her clothes off and left them atop her naked husband sitting in the empty cold tub. He looked confused. But, she knew better so she ran to the bedroom and got dressed quickly. Not quick enough Rob ran into the bedroom, tackled her to the bed shaking and jumping all over the bed keeping her from gaining her balance. “Stop it Rob I’m going to get sick.”
” Tell me Rhonda what must you do to stop this bed from shaking ma’am?” “I must make it Rock, sir yes sir!” “That’s exactly what I’m talking about lady! Yahoo!””I’m a rhinestone cowgirl and I am looking for my trusted steed Rob and I am ready for the ride baby!” They both laughed and enjoyed a very passionate filled night.
A few weeks went by and Robbie came running into the living room area yelling ” dad you’re on the news, they said malpractice and they are suing you for the death of Mr. Washington, weeks after surgery and they said he bled to death for bad closure procedure.” The T. V. was blaring this nightmare all over the United States airways. This is crazy, what’s going on here? ” I’m not believing this, my God what’s going on I know I did my job properly.”
Rhonda assured her husband she was by his side and wasn’t going to be budged. She was at every hearing and sat through every questioning session. Her husband seemed frail and weak he was being rail roaded. “These people had to have done something wrong after he went home. How can so long after the procedure, can you be the blame for his death? I’m so confused, God help us please reveal the truth under your perfect light. I am begging you God don’t do this to us, dont let Satan win over your children please God please!” Rhonda prayed low under her breath.
Months have went by, court date after court date, lies after lies. This was painfully excruciating to watch her husband be abused verbally. They ended up losing all of their savings and, now they have lost all but one vehicle and lawyer fees keep piling up. They had to take out a second mortgage on their new home. This was way too much to bare. Rhonda stood by her husband day in and day out. She would never budge, this man was her hero and superman! Yet, today he was her baby and she knew not what to do to bring him comfort.
Robert had, had enough of this. His lawyers were draining him financially and the death was killing him internally. He knew he performed a superior procedure but, the court’s were leaning more toward the deceased man’s family and giving them comfort and closure at his and his families expense. “I am about to lose my mind, Rhonda. I don’t know if I am coming or going. God has turned his back on me and I have done no wrong that I am aware of. How on God’s good green earth am I being drug around like this. I am faithful, honest, true, loving, kind, and diligent at pleasing God through how I care for his children. My God Rhonda, why is this going on,” tears and moans escaped her husbands pierced lips like a painful whine, that hurt her deeply as she could not provide him with serenity and peace as she would love to do. She just wanted to make everything go away and to make him feel all better. But, she knew that was just a fantasy and she felt horrible she was helpless and useless. She hated how this is destroying her man’s power and authority.
Eventually the case put them out of their home and in the homeless shelter down town near the court house that was raping their entire family. Robert lost thirty-five pounds and he had no appetite at all ever. Rhonda forced him to eat jello, pudding, and chicken noodle soup. It was all he could handle without getting sick.
Day after day, night after night Rhonda became more enraged at the suing family. She couldn’t understand how any of this happened and even in praying and fasting she found no salvation in what was going on in her families life.
Rhonda started hanging out at bars and clubs as well as restaurants, trying to bump into a familiar face of one of the family members of the dead man. She went out every day during the free hours that she got from being put out of the shelter for daily cleaning or whatever. One day she ran into the man’s sister at the local McDonald’s and enticed the woman into hearty conversation that lead to the opening of the conversation that included her husband and the tumultuous weather’s, his rushing to save her brother from death caused his family to suffer She went on and on until she said exactly what Rhonda and Rob had assumed. She said, ” My brother had a very major surgery a year or so ago and he made it through surgery fine, then he came home and pulled all the darn stitches out because it itched so bad. But, he wasn’t warned to leave them in and he pulled the wrong one and bled to death while no one was home. I blamed the nurses for not going over home care procedures but, my family wanted to go after the doctor. He was a good man and I really hated what they did.
I was only present at the court house to show family support, but I hated it every single minute, I prayed against my family winning. I wasn’t strong enough to will it my way. I am so very sorry, I wish there was a way I could have helped that man and his family. They lost everything because of my families greed.”
Rhonda was furious, only not showing it externally. She smiled as to be oblivious to the story and she shook her head and seemed to be very consoling every time the woman said she was sorry or against her family. Rhonda was railing mad and her brain felt like a hornets nest. Maybe she had bit off more than she was ready to swallow but she would not ruine her cover with an emotional outburst. She saw red, blood red. This was an anger she never felt before. She excused herself from the woman and went to get some air. Her anger was not subsided by the brisk air as she desired.
“What is this anger?” She screamed as she walked to her car, “and why can I shake it off,” her body trembled all over and the hornets resumed their humming in her skull. “I am rage” a voice whispered. “Wrath,” said a more sinister hissing voice! “Vengeance!” Thought Rhonda loud and clear! “Vengeance for my husband, my son, our family,” she cried out. Rhonda waited for the woman to leave the McDonald’s.
Once the lady, we now know as Julia emerged from the door of the restaurant Rhonda noticed she was walking wherever she was going. So, just like a depraved predator, she offered Julia a friendly ride with a warm welcoming smile. Julia accepted, saying she was going to her mom’s house which was a thirty minute ride across town. Rhonda had already prepared for the moment she would have this opportunity. She had latex gloves, large rubber bands, tin foil, two five gallon jugs of gasoline, black clothing, matches and power cutting equipment, she also had a water key to drain the fire hydrants in the area. She would make it impossible for survival as their greed had left her family. Oh, but they should pay dearly.
Life at the shelter week after week, saving for a house was difficult for the doctor, and his wife seemed to just simply not care about the rules of being in on time. She knew they had to find elsewhere to sleep, if they missed the time deadline. He had landed a job at a local community clinic, after what he went through, it was quite a blessing, so he and Robbie were always in on time. “Where on earth could she be?” He thought to himself, as Robbie had not mentioned missing her yet. He didn’t want to stir up any kind of nervous energy, so he pondered his wife’s where abouts secretly in his heart.
Rhonda camped out in the community park behind the Washington’s home, which was a huge beautiful ranch style home. It was too well lit, she located her rubber gloves and splicers. Rhonda waited til after eleven pm. She began to work quickly, setting the signal scanners, cutting wires to land lines and electrical power sources. She poured gas down into the basement windows, around the house all the windows were shut, but to her surprise, the back door was opened. “These folk are crazy to do what they do to folk and leave themselves so vulnerable.” Vengeance was constantly in her ear!
She crept into the house through the laundry room. As she tipped into the kitchen area she realized the people were in bed. Rhonda took her second five gallons of gasoline and poured from the kitchen to the livingroom area, on to the hallway that had conjoining doors to every bedroom in the home and the stairway to the basement. She peeped into their bedrooms from Wrath’s advice, ” leave no stone unturned and all witness must die,” he directed her.
Rhonda had her bags on her feet and rubber bands around her ankles to keep her DNA to herself. She had her hair wrapped up and gloves on as well as dressed in black and face mask on. She lit her match as she walked back down the hallway toward the livingroom and threw it toward the basement stairway inside the home. She ran through the kitchen and lit a match as she exited the laundry room door to the home she threw it inside the door. Outside she lit the house up from the outside. The entire Washington family was inside even the lady who showed her where they lived. The house went up in flames like a stack of hay. She watched from the park long enough to be sure no surprise survivors would come running out.
After she stripped down and changed her clothes and wig and wrap, she put everything in a bonfire container there on the other side of the park away from the blazing home. Rhonda stood by her fire as if to be warming herself for the onlookers. She left as soon as she heard sirens in the distance. It took fifteen minutes to get a response and it didn’t matter to her, because all the folk who hurt her family for nothing just received their just due.
Robbie noticed his mom standing at the door that morning as they were preparing to leave the shelter. “Mommy!” He ran to the door smiling and happy to see his mother there and alive. He cried happy I missed you tears and when he was allowed out the door he nearly knocked her down jumping in her arms hugging and squeezing her as if she had been gone a year. She kissed her son and husband. ” Where have you been?” Rob asked his wife. ” I was so worried about you, that I had a terrible nightmare and you were on fire, I tried to put the fire out but it kept growing and growing, just when I would think it was out. Babe I will die without you, we need you. I’m so glad you’re here.”
Rob didn’t leave space for her answer to her whereabouts, so she let the question ease on by. She embraced her family with a hidden fear in the back of her mind. He told her of the news report that morning on tv, the Washington’s entire estate went down in flames and the whole family seniors, women, men, and children. “No Survivors” the media repeated. Rhonda’s heart paused as her husband said the video tape caught a glimpse of the perpetrator. But, he followed up with ” the man cut power before traits of id could evaluated, smart guy I’d hate to say, but they lied on me and nearly destroyed my career, and mental health.” She sighed relief silently and relaxed deeply in her husbands arms hurrying her cold nose in his chest. Then he left walking for work, she took Robbie with her to look for low priced houses. They had ideas of a smaller more quite low maintenance place. A nice two bedroom with two full bathrooms is enough. They agreed and wrote down all the houses address and area where they were.
The years flew by and the Phillips were preparing for a long awaited and well planned vacation, although they moved, they were still physically lived in 7even and they were still surrounded by luscious gardens and greenways. 7even was a very verdant land to own and observe. They were going to the Virgin Islands for seven days and nights. It is so very much needed. “All packed up,” Rhonda and Robbie came running to the car with luggage, snacks, maps, and drinks. This is truly a trip this family can benefit from.
“All packed up, restroom stops are done, and snacks are readily available,” Rhonda said, as she was opening her door to get in the passenger side. Two police squad cars pulled up, one behind the car and the other beside the driver door. Four officers got out of the two vehicles and approached the car on both sides. One officer was talking to Robert looking toward Rhonda. She could see Rob’s head lowering and his face was distorted as if he was receiving the most disturbing news ever. Her legs began to tremble and then the shutter trailed up her entire body.
Robert and two officers walked over to her door. She unlocked and opened her door. An officer approached her and asked to have her accompany them to police department. She was so nervous, it was making her sick enough to vomit. Rhonda already knew what has going down, she put her hands out to surrender and they did cuff her front ways and sat her in the back of a squad car.
Months went by after the arraignment and bond hearing. Rhonda had been locked up for months and had lost a lot of weight because she wasn’t eating this jail food. She and Rob were unable to make the bond, and she was withering away. She told Rob at one of their visitations that she was guilty and would not plead otherwise. ” Robert Phillips please, please take care of Robbie and yourself. I can’t change what has happened. My anger took over me and voices took over my mind directing me the entire way! I felt powerless but I truly was aware of my movements, but, I could not stop myself no matter what amount of connection I had with God, my spirit wasn’t strong enough to battle. They took everything from us and I wanted to curse God but, murder seemed like a better option. Please forgive me, my love.” She sobbed and stood up wiping her face and eyes with the bottom tail of her orange jump suit top. She placed a kiss on her hand and then to the glass in front of his lips. ” I love you Rob, good bye. Please go on with your life once they give me the book. I don’t want to see you anymore. Take care of yourself and Robbie. I am signing a refusal of future visitation. Go forward my love.”
Rob was present at every court session. He sat in back because he knew Rhonda did not need to see him. If he looked worried it would just cause her to be in a mental prison about how he and Robbie were doing, and how painful it is to be away from them. He was there with her and he never left her side. At the end of the trial, Rhonda was sentenced to ten years flat. Robert felt weak and scared at the same time. How would he alone complete Robbies upbringing and provide for home and take care of his wife financially. He rushed to the front of the courtroom. Rhonda’s public defendant allowed them three minutes to touch and exchange a few last minute important details. Rhonda promised to be strong and to use this time rekindle her fire for God and get a college degree. Robert promised to wait on his wife and that he definitely would do.
After six months Rob had acquired his job and old home back. During Rhonda’s trial the recording of she and Mr. Washington’s sisters conversation at the McDonald’s that long ago day, saved his surgical reputation. ” Why didn’t my wife just bring the recording to me. They would have everything and she would be free to enjoy life with him and their son.” He thought grievingly to himself.me
While sitting in his man cave having a tall double shot lotte, someone knocked on the door. He told Robbie to answer the door. Robbie yelled,” dad you might want to come and see this right here.” Rob entered the living area and was astounded by what he saw.
This was a giant being with no face just light, the entire head was light. A huge ball of light! The being spoke, ” Robert Phillips, ponder no more. Torture your mind no more! Rhonda had been over taken by an onslaught of spirit beings, while she was at her weakest point. This is why I am here to warn you. Humans must understand there are gateways that must be guarded at all times. You may love God and you may be faithful to the ways of God, yet, when leaving your gates unguarded it leaves a gap for the enemy to seep in and gain control over the weak individual.
Your wife was weakened by fear and doubt. Wrath forced himself upon her and so did rage dysfunction and deceit. She was unable to control herself, not one time did these energies give her a second to breath mentally. They didn’t want her to have a chance to call out to God for help. They knew she would be set free. So they worked on her until she had completed vengeance’s evil works. Hold no grudges for her mishandling of this situation. Her love for you and fear of your life’s work being crushed by a lie conjured for the sake of greed. I have listed here all seven of the deadly sins and the seven gateways, as well as seven different ways God has provided for all humans who trust him, to get out of troubles way!
Rob and Robbie felt humbled to their knees, they understood the reverence of the holy spirit and the entity asked them to stand and be blessed in Jesus Christ and he vanished. Robbie eyes filled with tears. ” Dad, that was an angel we are going to be fine. I also feel like mom will be home sooner than ten years maybe half time if she does good. He was right and was heading to college when Rhonda did finally make it back home to them.
As with all the homes and families in 7even the life lessons they learn come with a severe consequence. The grim reaper Lord Death has come to the conclusion that he himself should buy property in 7even for himself. The sun goes down on 7even when it’s rising on the rest of the world. Lord Death stood at the main gateway looking off into the heavens. He thought to himself with ghoulish snarl spreading across his thin chard lips, “Grimms’s finally home.” Lord have mercy on this poor town called 7even.
  “The Book of 7even chptrs 1&2 "7EVEN" Greed The Jones Family It was a beautiful summer day early Saturday morning, Blake Jones pulled up to he and his families new home.
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tmccormally · 6 years
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When my mom was in her 80s, after a heart attack, hip replacement, breast cancer and being practically deaf, we got talking about how, all things considered, she was in pretty decent shape. Her mind was sharp as a tack (perhaps credited to being a “Jeopardy” junkie) and her eyes hadn’t begun to fail (though she read a book every two or three days).
And I’ll never forget one comment she made: “If I knew I was going to live this long, I would have taken better care of myself.”
I was surprised. And I asked, without thinking much: “Why didn’t you think you were going to live this long?”
“Darlin’,” she said in that motherly my-kids-have-so-much-to-learn way, “in my day,
A flyer urging precautions against the Spanish Flu.
nobody lived to be 80 or 90. We died.”
Of course. As I said, I wasn’t thinking. I know better. And in fact, in our book “For All Children Everywhere,” we talk about all the progress we’ve made in keeping people, especially children, alive longer. Life expectancy in the United States for all races and genders in 1900 was 47.3 years; by 2010, that number had grown to 78.7. That’s remarkable. And it’s no wonder children born in 1923 like my mom wouldn’t live their lives expecting to reach the age of 93 (like she did).
There are lots of reasons we’re living longer, of course. High on the list is the introduction of antibiotics and vaccines. Even the flu vaccine, which so many people take for granted — or ignore — is a remarkable lifesaver. Consider the Spanish flu, in 1918, which killed 50 to 100 million people worldwide. In the history book, we described the effect on Kansas City, this way:
Kansas City and Mercy Hospital were not spared. The city closed schools, churches,
The Ft. Riley, Kansas, hospital was filled with flu victims in 1918, much like the rest of the country.
theaters and other public places to try to stop the spread. It outlawed gatherings of more than 20 people, even for funerals. Patient ledgers from Mercy listed patient after patient with the flu. The disease affected mostly healthy young adults, unlike the traditional flu that typically threatened the very young and the very old. Most patients at Mercy survived. But the strain on the patients, staff and hospital infrastructure was undeniable.
The flu epidemic helped bring attention to the deplorable state of public health across much of Kansas City, where drinking water could still be contaminated and many lived in overcrowded housing with inadequate or no medical care. Also dangerous for too many Kansas Citians were unpasteurized milk, lack of indoor plumbing, poor storage of food and a general lack of nutrition.
Not to suggest that all our health problems have been solved, but thank goodness we don’t have to live – or die – that way now.
Have you received a flu shot this season? It’s not too late.
Knowing how important vaccines are in saving lives, I am amazed at the number of people who don’t vaccinate their children. Perhaps too many people have forgotten the horrors of infectious diseases like smallpox, measles, whooping cough. And then there’s polio, which was a terribly frightening national epidemic in the 1950s.
Again, Kansas City wasn’t spared and neither was Children’s Mercy, although it was not as affected as you might expect.
And according to a news report I recently uncovered from 1959, many reported polio
See a larger version of this news clipping at the bottom
cases, even kids, were treated at General Hospital, not Children’s Mercy. I’m not sure exactly why, but it may have been that General Hospital had better facilities, e.g. iron lungs, for taking care of polio patients. Also at the time, Children’s Mercy was still primarily a charity hospital; patients with the ability to pay for their care were treated elsewhere. That may have cut down on the number of polio cases at Children’s Mercy.
The Kansas City Star story I found in a file of miscellaneous clippings reported that in the summer of 1959, polio had reached the “epidemic” stage: 19 cases had been reported the week of July 24 alone, bringing the yearly total in Kansas CIty to 63. (In the six years before 1955, there were in Kansas City 900 reported cases of polio in kids, about 150 a year.)
It’s interesting to note that the “epidemic” declared by the Kansas City director of public health, Dr. Hugh L. Dwyer, was four years after the first polio vaccine was approved in 1955. That vaccine is credited to Dr. Jonas Salk, who himself credited a Children’s Mercy doctor with much assistance in the work. Dr. Herbert Wenner had a distinguished career at Children’s Mercy beginning in the late 1960s as the first occupant of the Joyce C. Hall Distinguished Professor of Medicine chair. Before joining Children’s Mercy he worked with Dr. Salk.
Much is made – and rightfully so – of the Salk vaccine in stemming the threat of polio. There’s a famous photo of Elvis Presley getting his vaccine in 1956. That publicity is in part credited with increasing vaccination rates in the United States. But obviously, that was not enough and the Salk vaccine was not the end of the problem. The polio threat remained years later.
A researcher at Cincinnati Children’s Hospital, Dr. Albert Sabin, developed a second vaccine, one that was taken orally, in 1960. It was often given with a sugar cube (and was the inspiration for the song “Spoonful of Sugar”) and it was after its introduction that the tide was truly turned against the disease.
Of course that was just one of the threats to public health. The polio vaccine was not the end of the work to combat infectious diseases. More vaccines would be introduced in the following decades. And the work continues today as new challenges for medical scientists emerge. New researchers take up the cause to improve lives and life expectancy. It seems we’re always making progress because we’re always being tested.
But we can’t give up.
You never know how long you’re going to be around. After all, these days life expectancy has more to do with how we take care of ourselves than with fate.
I think my mom would be glad that I’ve learned that lesson.
        Look back and see how far we’ve come When my mom was in her 80s, after a heart attack, hip replacement, breast cancer and being practically deaf, we got talking about how, all things considered, she was in pretty decent shape.
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