#now i ordered it for a lot cheaper. but apparently its been lost in the post. and they have refunded my order

[kithj]

i've been trying to order this book since like early february and two separate bookshops have cancelled the order on me now.... please.....

[myrcenegirl]

well the fun just doesnt stop! the speeding ticket i got where the person in the picture is wearing a mask apparently is undeniably me and the ticket isnt dismissed so like i guess im out of fucking options and the police dont actually need evidence to give me this ticket if they want to so that means i get to spend probably around 230 on traffic school before the end of next month. and i made really great decisions this weekend which yes i take full responsibility for so im dead broke again and have my moms birthday coming up and would like to do the bare fucking minimum for her but that of course costs money and seeing her itself means im missing two days of making money and it costs a tank of gas to see her which is ridiculous. im probably going to have to ask my brother if its okay if im short on my rent giving the reasoning that i would normally ask mom for a loan and i obviously dont want to ask her that on her fucking birthday so im thinking hell understand but then i have another bill right after i would get back from my mom so if i dont make enough money before going up there im going to once again be scrambling to pay this bill while owing my brother money and then the weekend after my moms bday its one of my best friends bday the one who her birthday is sooooooooooooo fucking important to her and im just like dude i cant get you shit i cant help out with your party at all im not even sure i can sacrifice yet another two nights of not working to celebrate with you for 48 hours like i know you want. like im sure she would understand like its not within my total control here obviously i would love to have tons of money and like idk she can be upset sure but at the same time im struggling here lol. oh and to top it all off this is the first time ive hung out with my best friend alone in like 4 months and we were having such a great fun night although making really bad decisions and having great talks all fucking night and THEN GUESS WHAT he got fucking weird again and its like well great can i even spend time alone with my best fucking friend without him making me uncomfortable like do i have to question this friendship now because i guess he actually really did completely end things with his ex so what am i suddenly after all our years of friendship now for some reason on his radar??? does he just want to fool around or is he like trying shit with me? doesnt matter cause i dont fucking want any of that shit im genuinely not to be rude i see him as a family member at this point and im not in the slightest bit sexually attracted to someone i see as family like sorry. i guess it could be worse tho! i found 140 in my savings in another account so the fact that i didnt work saturday or sunday cause i was too fucking strung out was a little less severe. also technology popped off a bit with my lost card when i ordered a replacement it said that the ‘card’ on my phone will immediately update so i can access my main account without having to get a temp card so one less errand. and while i had a little bit of money the other week i did buy a little bit of groceries so i have been able to make it by not eating out since friday so woo. i went out earlier and stayed out a little later working tonight and did get a good amount of money. some gas stations are 40 cents cheaper for some reason although i didnt see those until after i filled up today so cool for tomorrow tho we know. ughhhhh im wondering if the constant stress of not having money is better than the constant stress of hating 9 hours of my day at a shitty job getting yelled at by random cunts im trying to help its really weighing on me! like i could just be making a lot of bad decisions thats probably the obvious detail here lol but damn its like it never ends. ugh lets be extra extra responsible for some time here and adjust

[meanderful]

Slowing Down: The Island Life

Reunion

We last updated you all just as Sam and I arrived back in Bali’s capital of Denpasar. We booked into a hostel in the neighbourhood of Kuta—probably best known outside Bali as the site of the Bali bombings exactly twenty years ago. Now, Kuta is a crowded neighbourhood, a network of streets and alleyways lined with bars and street stalls and buzzing with an endless stream of scooters. We heard that it used to be the centre for tourists, but after the quiet of Covid, the crowds came back to a different neighbourhood, leaving a place past its best, with pretty pushy vendors and nearly empty bars. Though definitely not our usual vibe, our hostel itself was pretty quiet, with two large pools and a load of green foliage, and most importantly, it was a great, cheap place to stay with two of Sam’s schoolfriends for their reunion.

Jake turned up at the hostel within a few hours. Sam and Jake have known each other since they met at sixth form aged 16. Jake is one of life’s free spirits, having lived and worked abroad for years, always up for a party, always ready to celebrate life. Though he was back in the UK for the summer, he is shortly returning to Australia—where he’s been living for the last year or so—to work, and decided to stop by Bali on the way back for a couple of weeks. The reunion was joyfully celebrated by drinking Arak (the local Bali spirit) straight from the bottle while sat by the hostel pool. I went to bed early, but Sam and Jake stayed up to welcome Lloyd—another of their schoolfriends—at the airport in the early hours of the morning. Lloyd recently got a job as a travel coordinator and this 8-day tour of Bali would be his very first trip, timing perfectly with when Sam and Jake would be in Bali too. Sam and Lloyd met when they were both 11, and together with Jake they’re still part of a 9-man strong group of schoolfriends. As if Jake’s joie de vivre wasn’t enough, Lloyd is also wonderfully outgoing, a real partier, and fantastic travel buddy. I strongly suspect a lot more Arak was drunk once I was in bed—Jake and Sam used Grab (the local equivalent of Uber) to order scooters (much faster and cheaper than a car in the tiny, packed streets of Kuta) to get to the airport to meet Lloyd, but somehow only Sam turned up and Jake never recovered any memory of where he went so it will have to remain one of life’s great mysteries. Sam did make it to the airport and proudly stood waiting with a sign with a version of Lloyd’s catchphrase scrawled on it (Lloyd’s catchphrase being “Get loose, get goose”—don’t ask why—Sam was aiming for the “Loosest Goose” but apparently in the rush of creating the sign on a scrap of paper on the airport floor, he lost his ability to spell!).

Over the next couple of days, we chilled in the hostel pool, ate out together, caught up, and of course, went on a big night out. For our night of partying, we headed to Canggu, the popular beach neighbourhood next to Kuta, where Freddie—the brother of yet another of their schoolfriends—has been living for the last few years. We met a huge group of Freddie’s friends, all foreigners working in Bali, at a local brewery. We had a great night out, drinking many a beer and espresso martinis at the brewery before heading next door to a karaoke bar for the remainder of the night (though unfortunately Lloyd’s song request never came up, which Jake, Sam, and Freddie were all prepped as backing singers for—what a gem of an experience that would have been to watch).

The Magic of a Small Island

At the end of the weekend, we parted with Lloyd as he left to start his tour, and Sam, Jake, myself, and Cora (Jake’s Spanish friend whom he lived with in Australia and who is also, completely coincidentally, in Bali at the moment) all caught a boat from Sanur, Denpasar’s port, across the water to Nusa Lembongan, one of three small islands off the south-east coast of Bali. There was no jetty at either end, so all passengers removed their shoes and waded into the sea to climb on and off the boat for the 45-minute journey.

Upon arrival, a taxi took us from the island’s port over the hill into the next bay where our accommodation was. The taxis from the port are pick-up trucks fitted with benches, which made for an excellent way to enjoy the lush tropical green of the island’s countryside, the extremely potholed roads, and the stunning panoramic view at the highest point of the hill pass, looking out across the village of Jungutbatu, its bay, and the dappled blue of the ocean. Our accommodation proved to be lovely too, a wooden bungalow not even thirty metres from the beach, once again with its own porch and porch bed (otherwise known as the reading bed for me, obviously).

It took us much less than a day of wandering for us to fall in love with the island. Lembongan has an estimated permanent population of 5,000 people and is a mere 8 kilometres squared. It’s curved, a bit like a bean, with the north-western side of the island lined with some incredible beaches and the couple of villages, while the south-eastern half has just a few roads amid its foliage and large mangrove forests. There are a few pick-up truck taxis and golf-buggy style vehicles, but mostly people get around on scooters or on foot. The village streets are lined with warungs (almost like permanent street food stalls for Indonesian food), restaurants, dive shops, houses, and ornate family temples (the vast majority of the local population is Hindu, as on Bali), and the ocean is never more than a few minutes’ walk. In the way of small islands, it has a slower pace—life seems to move in rhythm with the sound of the waves. On the beach right by our bungalows, we could sit on sun loungers each evening and watch the sun set to our left and see the vast beauty of Mount Agung, one of Bali’s volcanoes, across the water to our right. The first two nights, there were huge thunderstorms, the thunder cracking so loudly that we could feel the bed vibrate and the delicious sound of heavy rain on the bungalow roof for hours. We mostly lucked out with little rain during the day, except for one morning when we had to wade through the alleyway-turned-stream that led from our bungalows to the main road.

On our second day on Lembongan, we hired a local driver who owned one of the large golf buggies and we spent a day exploring the island. First we headed to the north, passing squares of seaweed left out on tarpaulins to dry (Lembongan seaweed is used for both cosmetics and food), to reach the mangrove forest. A local punted us through the waterways of the mangroves and a hush fell almost like in a cathedral.

Next up, we stopped by Devil’s Tear, a rock formation on the south coast of the island that has been carved out by the continuous pounding of the ocean. We noticed that amid the crashing and spray of the immense blue waves, two Hawksbill turtles kept surfacing for breath. We then stopped by Dream beach for a dip in the sea—though the experience was somewhat marred by the vast amount of plastic in the sea which we later found out had been washed in from the ocean in the thunderstorms over the preceding couple of nights. Finally, we walked across Yellow Bridge, a bright yellow suspension bridge connecting Lembongan with its neighbouring, tiny island of Ceningan.

Over the next couple of days, Jake and I dived together. Sam’s ears were unfortunately still playing up and Cora wasn’t a diver, so on the first day, the two of them came along in the boat and snorkelled while we dived. This ended up being an excellent shout—we went south, to a dive site called Manta point and both on the surface snorkelling and diving down below, we all saw our fair share of manta rays. The visibility was pretty poor that day at roughly 5–7m (15–21ft), which made it really atmospheric as the mantas loomed out of the gloom and came cruising by, completely unfussed by the divers. Mantas are known for coming to this particular spot for cleaning and it is not exaggeration to say that Jake and I lost count of how many we saw—especially as they circle the site so we may have seen several individuals multiple times. Despite the visibility, Sam somehow managed to snap a magical shot of one individual from the surface.

On our second day diving, Jake and I headed north of Lembongan, diving out from the coast near its mangrove forests. We did a particularly cool drift dive, where we dropped into the water and then floated along with the current so that it was a bit like going on an anti-gravity, scenic tour of an incredible aquarium. As the north tends to get warmer waters and is more sheltered, there was a lot of bright coral, so much fish life, and the reef looked absolutely stunning.

Between diving and our other escapades, I also began creating a series of maps of large sections of Indonesia in order to map out the best diving spots, where to see which marine animals at what time of year, and add recommendations from people we meet along the way. I may be on holiday but there’s no leaving my nerdiness behind.

Misadventure

At the end of an amazing week together, we said goodbye to our travel buddies and Jake and Cora took the boat back to Bali to finish off their final few days of travelling. We also took the boat back to Denpasar for a long day of life admin. First up, we went to the immigration office to sort out the paperwork for our visa extension (to ensure we can stay in Indonesia for four months, rather than the initial two months already granted on the type of visa we have). Sam had started the day feeling pretty rough with an upset stomach and over breakfast I also realised I was feeling a bit off. By the time we left immigration to work through our other errands, I had become positively ill with Bali belly, so as we headed to a hardware store and then two different dive equipment thus preceded what can only be described as a vomit tour of the city. I eventually realised that my body needed to call it quits and somehow, magically, managed to survive the taxi ride back to the port, 45-minute boat ride back to the island, and 15-minute taxi back to our bungalow without any mishaps. Once back in our bungalow, I spent 12 hours lying in bed and fighting off a fever, but by the next morning I was tentatively starting to feel better. I spent that whole next day in bed, sleeping or listening to an audiobook, while Sam graciously brought me small portions of plain food at intervals, and slowly I started to feel more human again. Horrendous as this all sounds, I found it tragic and hilarious in equal measures almost immediately, even in the midst of feeling ill—there’s nothing quite like the lows of travelling to really accentuate the highs!

[alarawriting]

52 Project #24: The Princesses and the Peas

(Inspired by a post on Tumblr and if I can ever find it again I will link it here.)

(Not proofread, beta’ed, or even read through a second time because this is massively late and if I don’t post within the next hour it will officially be next week everywhere in the United States and I will have failed in my mission. I’ll try to re-read and proofread and edit next week. Also this note is highly unprofessional, but I learned my relationship to my audience through fanfic, so this is how I roll.)

***

Surely you have heard a similar tale before, almost but not entirely like this one, of the queen who sought the perfect wife for her son, the crown prince.

The queen had ruled the land alone since the death of her husband. She was praised for her wisdom and her benevolence toward her people. But she was no longer young, and it was time to make sure her son made a politically beneficial marriage, to strengthen his position when it came time for him to take the crown. Many in the land whispered that the young man would make a terrible king, and wanted him to abdicate in favor of his younger sister, who was beautiful and bright and smiling. Celia, the young sister, could look anyone in the eye and make them believe that in that moment, they were the most important person in her world. Arien, the prince… could not do that.

The prince had a talent for mathematics, and it had expressed itself very young. Some said he should be the chancellor of the exchequer rather than the king. But Queen Leyta knew her son would make a compassionate and wise ruler as well as a prudent one. He also had a gift for seeing the humanity behind the numbers he calculated, of being able to think of the impact they would have on the people he would one day rule.

Once, when he was a child of six, his nursemaid lost him. Leyta found him behind the kitchens, picking through the garbage bins to find table scraps. She would have punished the kitchen staff for allowing such a thing, but Arien insisted that she should not. “It’s not their fault, Mother. I ordered them to let me, and I’m the prince, so they had to obey me. I told them that if you became angry at them I would tell you that they were only obeying my orders. They can’t get in trouble for obeying their liege.”

Leyta sighed. She could punish them for obeying their liege, when their liege was 6 and the thing he wanted to do was eat garbage, but she wouldn’t, because she knew why they obeyed. When the prince was thwarted, he would ask why. And if he received an answer, he would argue with it and present his position. Sometimes, this debate would lead to him accepting the necessity, and calmly going about his business, seeming to forget all about what he’d asked. More often, if he didn’t get an answer to “why”, or he didn’t like the answer and thought it didn’t make sense, and he was still thwarted, he would start to scream and hide under tables, or scream and run around and break things, or scream and slam his head into the wall, and he wouldn’t stop even when offered the thing he wanted. It was very, very hard to calm him once he started shrieking. So instead of punishing the kitchen staff, she asked Arien, “Why were you eating garbage?”

“Our food is bought with the taxes we take from the people,” he said seriously. “If we wasted less food, we wouldn’t have to tax the people as sorely as we do, and they would have more money to buy things for themselves.”

So she took him aside and told him that the scraps were fed to the dogs, who helped the palace huntsmen bring down game, or the goats and fowl, who gave the palace milk, meat and eggs, or they were tilled into the ground to make the fields around the palace more fruitful. They did not, in fact, go to waste; food that wasn’t wholesome for humans to eat could still feed animals, who would turn it back into wholesome food.

Then she had a lengthy discussion with him about tax policy, and listened gravely to his suggestions as to how they could ease the burdens on the people, and told him what the problems with his ideas were. And when some of his ideas didn’t have significant problems, she told him so, and discussed them with him, and even implemented a few as policy.

Arien also had a great love for bugs. He spent much of his days wandering the grounds, sketching every insect he saw, capturing some to study them and figure out what they ate. When Leyta learned of this, she found a learned scholar of insects, and hired him to be Arien’s tutor in the matter of insects, only. The man was at first openly resentful of being required to work with a small child, assuming that Arien would be a spoiled princeling with no real interest in learning, but when he discovered Arien’s love for the tiny creatures, he embraced the boy wholeheartedly and tutored him as well as he could.

The prince had few friends. He was open and innocent, happy to make friends with any child close to his own age, but the honest children who truly wanted a playmate were put off by Arien’s tendency to talk about bugs and math almost constantly. The children who put up with Arien’s chatter were, to Leyta’s eyes, obviously coached by ambitious mothers, pretending to friendship with the strange young prince to improve their position at court. She arranged for most of these children to be sent away – either their mothers dismissed, or the family sent to one of the crown’s holdings with some duty to perform or another. Arien was saddened by the disappearance of his playmates, since he didn’t realize they saw him as mere stepping stones to power. Celia knew, and would comfort her brother as well as she could… but she didn’t have a lot of patience for math, tax policy, and insects either.

As he grew up, Arien continued to display a strange mixture of wisdom and childishness. He would run around the palace grounds, playing with children far younger than he was, and they were not old enough to try to manipulate him, so Queen Leyta left them alone. He enjoyed riding his horse and taking care of it, and was often found at the stables, for he believed his horse needed to cared for in just the exact way he did it, and he didn’t trust the stablehands to follow his instructions exactly. He would spend hours discussing the politics of the land and the problems facing various groups of his subjects with Leyta and her own advisors, and then he would scream and throw himself on the floor at dinner because a chef had put visible onions in his soup, and he would need to be put to bed with his favorite blanket and a knitted doll of a dog that he’d had when he was four.

People said that the boy was touched in the head, that he was slightly mad, and also, that a future king who threw temper tantrums over onions was not to be trusted. But they weren’t, exactly, tantrums, as Leyta saw them. They didn’t stop when the problem was solved, they usually didn’t include demands – in fact, usually it was hard to get the prince to explain what was wrong, because he seemed to lose much of his ability to speak when these fits came on him. And she could see in his eyes that he was terrified and overwhelmed, not angry and demanding. Arien needed the world to work a certain way, and when it did not, it left him adrift, frightened and lost in a world that seemed to make no sense to him anymore.

Some of these ways that the world needed to work involved food, and the importance of not being able to see onions, for an onion large enough to see was large enough to crunch in his mouth in a way that apparently was so disgusting it would make him lose his ability to eat all day. There were similar rules regarding peppers, and certain cream dishes. Other ways the world needed to work regarded his mother’s advisors treating him like their future king, not in terms of obsequious deference but in terms of actually listening to his ideas and explaining things to him – even when he was merely eight. And then there was the care of animals – his own animals needed to be cared for in an exact way, and if he saw anyone being cruel to an animal, he might actually become violent to that person. The same was true of stronger people being cruel to weaker ones. When he was fourteen, he heard a maid crying, and asked a kitchen maid to find out for him what had happened. And then, when he learned that a nobleman under his roof had ill used her and cast her aside, he went to his mother and demanded the man be whipped for his crimes. The political explanations she gave for why that couldn’t be done fell on deaf ears; he was a cruel man and he’d harmed someone he had power over, and that was all Arien cared about. Leyta only managed to satisfy him by sending the man on a probably futile sea expedition to try to find a cheaper source of rice.

This was the boy that Queen Leyta had to find a proper bride for.

Her mother-in-law, the Dowager Queen, had ideas, but it had been many years since the Dowager Queen had actually held any power; she was one of Leyta’s advisors now, nothing more. So the idea would have to be one that Leyta agreed with, herself.

A ball to introduce eligible young women with powerful families to the prince? No. The prince didn’t handle crowds or parties well, or meeting a lot of new people in one evening.

A series of daytime salons, where a small group of eligible women would converse over luncheon with the prince? No. That was still too many people and the prince  was self-conscious about people watching him eat.

Individual visits from each eligible young lady and her chaperones, to the palace, to meet with Arien, and also to be approved by Leyta? Yes! An excellent idea. Leyta had her secretary write up the invitations, to all the young women whose parents had written to her or the Dowager to express an interest.

In the palace was a suite of rooms that had been Leyta’s, once, when she’d lived in this palace to learn its ways before marrying the then-prince. She had that suite cleaned and prepared for the guests. Sleeping quarters to either side for the princess’s guards. Ladies-in-waiting to sleep in the antechamber outside the princess’s bedroom. And inside the princess’s bedroom, a bed heaped with several thick eiderdown duvets and pillows, incredibly soft, with sheets made from the finest linens.

And under the second eiderdown duvet, dried peas.

Queen Leyta tested the peas. When she sat on the bed, she couldn’t feel them. If she laid in the bed, she could barely tell they were there. But when she had Arien try it, he said, “You’re going to take them out before the guests come, right? The peas make the bed much too uncomfortable.”

“The peas,” Leyta said, “are to test whether a girl is right for you or not. It’s magic.”

Arien looked at her skeptically, unsure whether he believed in magic or not. “How are dried peas supposed to find me the right wife?”

“Magic,” Leyta said. “I can’t tell you exactly how it works. But it’s very important that you not tell them about the peas, or the magic won’t work.”

“Mother, I’m sixteen. I’m not a child. This whole story sounds ridiculous.”

“All right,” Leyta admitted. “It’s not magic, but I won’t be able to explain it to you until after it’s proven that it works, or doesn’t. But it is very important that you not tell any of your guests about it.”

Arien looked like he wanted to argue some more about it. Leyta said, “Trust me,” and he sighed, plainly remembering the number of times his mother had stood up for him or had come up with some scheme to help him.

“All right, Mother, but I’ll want that explanation afterwards.”

The Dowager Queen had her own theories. “You want to see if they can tell the peas are there?”

“To a certain extent,” Leyta said.

“You know that old wives’ tale about princesses being true and refined if they’re extremely sensitive is just a myth. I wasn’t a fragile flower who’d lose petals if you looked at her hard, and neither were you. And neither will Celia be.”

“I know that, Mother,” Leyta said – it was custom to address your mother-in-law as Mother, and Leyta’s own mother had died shortly after her wedding. The Dowager Queen had been the closest thing to a mother she’d had the entire time she was Queen. “I’m not testing for extreme skin sensitivity. Trust me.”

“It’d be hard for him to get an heir on a princess that fragile, don’t you think?” The Dowager chortled.

Leyta sighed. “No need to be crude about it. I have my reasons, and I’ll explain them to you, eventually. Let’s see if it works, first.”

***

The first princess was from the west. She had long straight hair and delicate-looking eyes with folded lids that left them shaped like almonds, rather than the eggs that the people of this realm wore in their face. She had pale creamy skin with a golden undertone, and she was demure and very polite, her etiquette perfect. She sat with Arien for hours, smiling at him with a face that expressed great interest, as he explained to her the complexities of life in a beehive.

In the morning, Leyta asked her, “How did you sleep?”

“Oh, wonderfully,” the princess said. “The bed was perfect! So soft! Your hospitality is wonderful.” She bowed her head.

Leyta saw her and her entourage off. When she returned, she asked Arien, “What did you think of her?”

“She was nice,” Arien said. “She listened to me. I’ve only had a few friends who listened to me, and they all moved away.”

Privately, without Arien present, the Dowager asked, “So what’s your verdict?”

“Unless none of them pass the test, she’s a no.”

***

The second princess was from the land immediately to the north. Her skin was tree- brown but as smooth as a tranquil lake, her hair floating around her head in a soft, curly cloud. Arien talked to her about beetles. She made excuses of not feeling well about half an hour into the beetle discussion.

When Leyta asked her how she slept, she said, “Your rooms are very nice. And the food last night was excellent, I’m so sorry I had to cut the evening short. But I feel fully rejuvenated today.”

Arien said, “She seemed okay, but she kept looking around while I was talking to her, so much that I think she gave herself motion sickness. I think that’s why she got sick.”

Leyta said to the Dowager, “A definite no.”

***

The third princess was from the far south. She had beautiful straight golden hair, cut short and asymmetrically, where it was shorter in the back than front and where it was parted on one side rather than in the middle.

She complained about her soup being cold. She complained about her roast beef being too bloody. She complained that the dessert course had small portions and also that it was too sweet. She screamed at servants for not bringing her wet towels for wiping her hands quickly enough and for refilling her wine glass too quickly. She insisted on talking to the seneschal about the servants who had served her, demanding that they be banished from the castle for incompetence. When Arien tried to talk to her, her demeanor was sweet, but every time he tried to talk to her about something he liked, she insisted that he show her another part of the castle. She made plans for room redecoration as if she had already become Arien’s queen.

In the morning, she was sickly sweet with Leyta, saying it was only a minor thing, really, but surely more competent servants could be found to make the bed? It was extremely lumpy. Leyta found out that she’d woken the chambermaids at 1 in the morning to demand an additional five featherbeds piled on top of hers.

Arien didn’t look at his mother. “Um… I don’t want to be impolite, but… I didn’t like her very much.”

The Dowager Queen said, “Please don’t tell me you’re considering that young harridan just because she could tell there were peas in the bed.”

“Oh, no. Not even for a moment,” said Leyta, and drew her quill through the name “Princess Carinna” on the list.

***

The fourth princess was actually the daughter of a powerful merchant, not an actual princess at all. She had deeply tanned skin and thick black hair, and beautiful dark eyes. She and Arien talked for hours about tax policy and accounting techniques, and she seemed genuinely interested.

She said the bed had been wonderful, and there was nothing wrong with it. Arien liked her. But Queen Leyta marked her as a provisional choice, the first on the list if no one passed her test.

***

And so it went with princess after princess. Most of them showed at least some slight sign of impatience when Arien monopolized the conversation, but none of them admitted to it, and few even tried to change the topic. No others were as rude as Carinna. No others admitted to detecting the peas, either. Leyta was on the verge of contacting the merchant to make an offer for his daughter to wed Arien. And then Princess Inaya arrived.

Princess Inaya was from further north than the second princess had been, her skin darker and her hair in braids that lay directly against her head, with ribbons and beads woven into them at the bottom. She didn’t look Leyta in the eye – or anyone else, really, keeping her head bowed demurely. She picked at her food, more or less eating only the potatoes, and she barely spoke… until she met with Arien.

He offered, diffidently, to show her the garden, and she accepted. He started to point out interesting bugs that he saw in the garden… and she began to point out interesting rocks. They soon began an animated conversation that sounded to Leyta more like two separate threads, where Arien would say a sentence or two about insects, then yield to Inaya, who would say a sentence or two about rocks. Sometimes they had a genuine back-and-forth when they talked about the habitats of pillbugs, who lived under rocks, or other areas where rocks and insects somehow intersected. Arien showed Inaya the notebook where he drew bugs and made his observations, and Inaya seemed to be thrilled with his artistic skill. She showed him her own notebook, with no art at all, where she wrote down the properties of rocks she had discovered and outlined the tests she did on stones to see what they were made of. Arien was fascinated with the efforts she’d gone to and how thoroughly she’d documented her findings; he’d never thought of doing anything to research the insects aside from looking them up in his tutor’s books.

At no point did she ever look Arien in the eye. At no point did he seem to care. He relaxed enough with Inaya to flap his hands when he grew excited; Inaya had a chain of polished stones that, instead of wearing around her neck, she tossed in the air as she paced.

In the morning, when Leyta asked Inaya how she slept, she squirmed.

“I, um. The bed was mostly very nice. Very good linens, nice soft down. But, uh. It felt like maybe there were… tiny pebbles in there somewhere? I’m not sure, I didn’t want to be rude and strip down the bed to look, but, uh. It was kind of uncomfortable.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Leyta said.

She made arrangements to ask Arien his opinion before Inaya’s entourage left, this time. He spoke very simply. “I love her. Pick her, she’s the one.”

“I thought you would say that,” Leyta said, and she finished drafting the offer to Inaya’s parents, and signed it. “Take this to her lady-in-waiting before they leave, to give to Inaya’s parents.”

“I can’t!” Arien said, looking all around. “I can’t be the one to do it because I have to give her a parting gift if I see her and I don’t have any nice rocks!”

So Leyta gave him a bracelet with a large inset opal, and smaller jades all around it. “Take this to her and tell her which kinds of stones are in it, and tell her she can wear it as a bracelet if she wants, or take it apart for the stones, whichever she prefers.”

Later she heard that Inaya collapsed on the ground crying when he made the offer, but that her lady-in-waiting reassured Arien that this wasn’t abnormal – that she did this whenever her emotions were too strong to control, even if they were happy emotions. Inaya confirmed that she was crying from relief and joy, because she had always thought that no man would ever want to marry her and if one did, he would hate her rocks and want her to do normal womanly things like embroidery or something, which she wasn’t good at in the slightest because her coordination was bad and she was always poking the needle into the wrong place, and she had never imagined that she would ever find a man who understood her and didn’t demand that she look in his eyes and liked to listen to her talk about what she loved. Then Arien asked her very gravely if she liked hugs, because most of the time he didn’t like hugs, especially when they were a surprise, but if she would like a hug he really wanted to give her one. They hugged, and declared mutual love (“as far as I can define the feeling of love, anyway,” Inaya said, “because I don’t think I’ve ever been in love before, so how can I know for sure that that’s what this is?” Arien had agreed with her, but said “I think that even if what we’re feeling isn’t the same kind of thing as other people feel when they’re in love, it’s close enough that we can use the same word, because who wants to have to make up a new word?” And then they spent several minutes amusing each other to the point of hysterical laughter in making up new words that sounded ridiculous, sometimes repeating them to each other ten or a dozen times.) When Inaya finally had to leave, Arien cried.

Leyta wasn’t there for any of that, but her spies were everywhere in the castle.

***

When the Dowager demanded that she explain her test, Leyta summoned Arien, who had washed his face so it looked more as if he had had a terrible runny nose and sneezes than that he’d been crying.

“You asked me about what it would prove, to put peas in the bed,” Leyta said, “and I was looking for two things, but one was more important than the other.”

“What were you looking for?” Arien asked.

“Arien… you know that you’re a special young man, and different in some ways than other people your age. I’ve consulted with many scholars. Children like you are often strangely sensitive to things that other people don’t notice… often to the point where it’s unpleasant. Such as your feelings about onions.”

He shuddered. “Please do not remind me of the existence of those devil vegetables.”

Leyta laughed. The Dowager scowled. Leyta knew she preferred that a king, or a crown prince who’d just been betrothed, have a serious demeanor. She also knew that Arien would be who he was, no matter what anyone asked him to be.

“So I thought, the peas might be noticeable to some of the girls, but they would be especially notable to a girl who was like Arien. More importantly, if a girl noticed it but claimed she didn’t… Arien, I know you are often taken off guard by lies, and you’re a very honest man yourself. I know you would prefer a wife who will tell you when something makes her unhappy, rather than her trying to guess how you feel about it and then telling you what she thinks you want to hear.”

Arien nodded. “Nobody can see inside someone else’s mind, so why would anyone even do that?”

“I wanted a girl who would be honest about something she found unpleasant, even if she had to offend her host to admit it. But, obviously, kindness and compassion and a lack of malice about it were necessary as well… we don’t want a Carinna anywhere near the rulership of the kingdom.”

“You can say that again,” Arien said. Leyta suspected he was setting her up so she could tell a joke.

“But I won’t, because I know you heard it the first time,” she said, smiling.

The Dowager frowned. “So you picked a girl who has the same kinds of problems as Arien? Was that wise? The kingdom may need rulers who understand the idea of telling lies when they must, who can be charming and adept with politics. I thought you’d pick a girl who would cover Arien’s weaknesses, not one with the same issues.”

“Your son understood me,” Leyta said simply. “It was an arranged marriage, but we quickly grew to love each other, because we respected and we understood each other. I don’t want the kingdom to have a queen who resents her husband because she thinks he’s strange… who may play politics behind the scenes to have him killed so she can take power. Or who takes lovers, so we don’t know if the royal blood is even in the heirs. It’s more important to me that Arien’s wife respects him and understands him, and that he understands and respects her, than to have rulers who can detect all the subterranean undercurrents of a conversation. That’s what spymasters are for… and Dowager mothers and grandmothers, and perhaps even younger sisters.”

“Mother,” Arien said, “thank you. I know the people think I’m strange, and maybe I am, but you’ve always watched out for me. I didn’t even know I needed to find a wife who wouldn’t lie to protect my feelings until you pointed it out, and now it’s obvious.” He looked at the Dowager. “And Grandmother, Inaya does complement me. I understand mathematics, and finance, and things like that. She was trained by her parents to understand logistics, so she could run the castle, but she went deeper with it; she understands things about what kind of weather will do things to the crops and what will happen to the farmers when that occurs, things I never even thought about asking. Together I think she and I can make our country one of the most prosperous and happy nations in the world.”

***

And so it came to be. Prince Arien and Princess Inaya were wed in a lovely ceremony that they immediately fled to go on their honeymoon as soon as the marriage vows were taken. They understood the economics of the nation, and other nations, as few kings and queens ever did, and when they needed someone to tell them that someone else was lying, they had the Dowager Leyta and Princess Celia. The country prospered as it never had before, with no beggars on the streets of the cities, because the King and Queen gave homes to those who had none, and living expenses to those too sick or weak or lacking in some ability so that they couldn’t work.

It would be a lie to say they lived happily ever after, because no human can be happy all the time, and they had arguments and problems in their relationship from time to time. But even Arien the Honest and his Queen would agree that we can say they lived mostly happily for the rest of their lives.

[mst3kproject]

Bog

Imagine Creature from the Black Lagoon but made by the creative (for lack of a better word) team behind The Giant Spider Invasion.  That’s Bog.

Bog Lake is the type of little nowhere town that looks as if it ought to have a local cryptid, like the Flatwoods Monster or Mothman… and sure enough, tourists who come to fish in the lake are getting drained of blood by some creature with a chitinous proboscis!  The police are baffled, the locals are buying guns, and the coroner straightfacedly suggests it might be Count Dracula.  The only person who seems to really know what’s going on is The Old Hag of the Woods, and she claims that the swamp monster is some kind of ancient god.  Once awakened, it must feed on blood before it can return to the slime at the bottom of the lake and sleep for centuries more.  At this point, the viewer is probably expecting something like the Giant Leeches crossed with Cthulhu, but the truth manages to be even cheaper than a Corman film and, unfortunately, infinitely rape-ier.

Why does this movie remind me so much of the works of Bill Rebane?  The main reason is probably the 70s soft focus and the midwestern accents, but there are quite a few points that spark specific memories of The Giant Spider Invasion.  The movie’s heroes are two people in at least their forties, in which the woman is a more qualified scientist than the man.  The married couples we see are totally dysfunctional and dissolving in booze. A shotgun-wielding mob forms and chases the monster towards the instruments of its demise.  There’s even a middle school chemistry classroom that stands in for a laboratory (I particularly enjoyed the fact that this, which presumably represents a room in the town morgue, has a map of the moon on one wall) and science that starts out grounded in reality but then dives headfirst into bullshit while hollering “cowabunga!”

On the other pedipalp, there are also ways in which Bog is notably better than The Giant Spider Invasion, most of which have to do with the characters.  Admittedly, these do not get off to a good start.  The first people we can really be said to meet are two assholes who have come for the camping and fishing, and their wives who have come to complain.  The couples clearly hate each other and we can’t imagine why they ever got together in the first place, and each individual is kind of an idiot.  I won’t complain too much, though, because the crabby wives get eaten almost right away and the asshole husbands fulfill their plot function by bringing it to the attention of the authorities and then follow their spouses out of the movie.  Good riddance.

The real characters are the Sheriff, Ginny the Coroner, and Brad the Doctor.  None of them are exactly likable but they come across as the sort of very ordinary people you’d probably meet in your day-to-day life and while they’re not your close friends, you don’t dislike them.  Ginny is of an appropriate age for her position of authority, and her colleagues treat her with the respect she is due.  Her romance with Brad is clearly something that’s been going on for a while now and doesn’t suddenly develop over the course of a weekend, and the two of them are close in age.  All three of these characters behave in a professional manner and seem to have good working relationships, which is a breath of fresh air.  Far too many movies try to insert unnecessary drama by having characters who hate each other for no reason.

The best of the three is actually the Sheriff, who is one of a very few small-town movie sheriffs who actually seems to take his job seriously.  Aldo Ray used to be a real actor, and you can tell – he plays the Sheriff a with nice everyman quality and a great deal of integrity.  This unfortunately makes it all the more puzzling when the character suddenly runs off to fight the monster with fisticuffs and gets killed for it. Brad says it was in the Sheriff’s nature to do this but it doesn’t seem to match the sensible and down-to-earth characters we’ve seen so far.

I got the impression, actually, that the Sheriff was what was keeping the movie sane because after he dies it starts getting weird.  Ginny does some scientific tests that consist mostly of pouring coloured liquids into Erlenmeyer flasks, and determines that the monster is made of cancer and molybdenum. If either of these facts have any effect on the plot I missed it, although I did imagine Crow deciding the monster was his long-lost relative.  Then we get into how it reproduces and things go right off the deep end.

You see, there’s only one of these monsters, and it’s a boy.  Fauxilla got around this through hermaphroditism, but the monster from Bog prefers the Humanoids from the Deep route.  If you’re lucky enough not to have seen Humanoids from the Deep, its fish monsters have decided they need human genes to speed up their evolution.  The monster in Bog does kind of the opposite, devolving humans to make them compatible with itself.  It does this by injecting a dose of its own blood into the victim and the result is a huge clutch of transparent spawn that Ginny describes as ‘not really a seed, not really an egg’, whatever that means.

This, we later learn, is how the Swamp Hag knows so much about the creature – she’s apparently been its mate for hundreds of years! She dies attempting to warn the monster that it’s walking into a trap, which leads Brad and an ichthyologist to conclude that one effect of this infusion of monster hormones is that ‘the victim becomes willing’.  That is icky and I hope it doesn’t reflect the writers’ feelings about real-life situations of sexual assault.  The idea is intended to add urgency to the need to rescue Ginny from the creature.

Creature from the Black Lagoon never did give a reason why the titular monster was interested in kidnapping human women.  It was obvious enough that the Creature was supposed to be a sexual threat, but its quest was clearly doomed and it was not apparent why the women were attractive to it.  Humanoids from the Deep appears to have arisen from the brain of somebody who spent way too much time thinking about these questions and trying to come up with answers to them.  Bog decided its monster simply didn’t have any choice – there aren’t any other bipedal things around for it to mate with.  What neither of these movies realize is that the questions didn’t need answers to begin with.

There are things movies need to be explicit about, and slimy swamp creatures raping women is not one of those.  A lot of times, horror works better when the details are left to the viewer’s imagination, and the fact that Creature from the Black Lagoon doesn’t understand that it cannot get what it wants from its captives actually makes it worse. The writers of Saturn 3 did something similar with Hector the robot’s crush on Alex and while Saturn 3 was not a good movie overall, that aspect worked fine.  Going into the details just gives the audience an opportunity to think about how stupid it is.

It is worth noting that neither Creature from the Black Lagoon nor Saturn 3 felt a need to use the words the victim becomes willing, either.

The monster’s silhouette resembles a man in a fish costume he probably bought on Amazon, and it sounds like it doesn’t want to get up in the morning. I suspect that hidden in the poor lighting is something that would be a shitty movie monster classic on the order of The Giant Claw or the spidermobile from The Giant Spider Invasion, if only we could see it.  There are very few things I enjoy more than movies that are loud and proud of their abysmally cheap monsters, but sadly Bog doesn’t want to show off.

This is doubly a shame because a lot of this movie just drags. The bit with the scuba divers takes way too long for the payoff it gets.  Brad and Ginny’s makeout scene lasts way after we’ve gotten the point, whether or not it bothers you that the people doing the kissing are middle-aged. And anything with the two fishermen and their wives is not only slow, but annoying.  The movie is at its Giant-Spider-Invasion-est here, when everybody on screen is a repulsive caricature of a human being and you can’t wait for them to die.

There may be a slight 70’s Nature’s Revenge angle to this film, in that the monster is apparently awakened by some idiot fishing with dynamite, but Black Lagoon is evidently the primary inspiration.  Unfortunately, all the things that made that movie enjoyable are missing here.  The monster doesn’t look particularly realistic or well-adapted to its environment. Attempts at suspense are just boring and the movie is unnecessarily explicit about things that should remain implied. Bog is not a complete write-off as bad monster movies go, but it’s not all that great either.

[official-archivist-keith]

Keith sat down with the paper and the statement before turning on the tape recorder. He took a breath, he was starving... hopefully this would help.

"Statement of Sunil Maraj regarding their work as a security guard and the disappearance of their co-worker, Samson Stiller. Original statement given 3rd April, 2011. Audio recording by Keith Kogane, the Archivist.

Statement begins."

"So I lost my job last week. I mean, I quit, they didn’t fire me or nothing. But you know how like sometimes you quit because you want to, and sometimes you quit because you’ve got to? Well, this was the second, although I’m not gonna pretend I’m not glad to see the back of the place.

It’s ‘cause I kept asking about Samson, you know? And what I saw. And they really, really don’t want me to make a stink about that. Because if he just disappeared one day, didn’t come into work, that’s fine - I mean, not fine for his family, obviously, or the police who have to find him, but fine for the company. If he disappeared at work, though - if what I think happened is even close to what actually happened - then that’s real bad news for them, and opens them up to all sorts of lawsuits and liability.

I mean, it’s fine, I can get other jobs, and it’s not like I really want to be working there after what happened, but I just wish someone would take it seriously. It’s messed up, and I’m having a real hard time getting out of my head.

So, I work security right? Used to be, a company or shop would have its own little security force they put together, did all the in-store and CCTV vigilance stuff. These days, it’s all centralized, though. You tend to have a building or a shopping central contract all the security work out to a single company, who’ll then cover all the businesses or shops. It’s easier, from a centralizing point of view, and cheaper, if that’s what the owners like.

But it does mean that there tends to be a lot less stability and how it’s all structured, personnel-wise, at least. If you’re lucky, you’ll be assigned to a post and stay there for years, getting to know the place, the systems, your co-workers. If you’re unlucky, or there’s contract difficulties, you could easily end up moving through two or three different places in as many months.

That was kind of the case for me and Samson. We were the odd men out in a lot of ways. We’d originally been brought in for a big corporate office block near Liverpool Street, but there’d been some problem and the whole place had to be closed up for months. Samson said they found asbestos, I heard it was a lease issue, but it doesn’t really matter. Point is, they hired us for a job that no longer existed.

I expected they’d just get rid of us, but I mean to their credit, they did try to do right. They did their best to fit us in with other security teams: I mean, over the last two years we did a couple of data centers, a digital marketing hub - whatever that is - three different office buildings near Kings Cross… trouble was, every time, almost as soon as we got there, there’d be some personnel changes, or expiring contracts, or some other trouble, and generally, as the last in the door, we were the first to get reassigned. Started to feel a bit like we were cursed, you know?

Samson took it harder than I did. I mean, I’m young, my mum’s got a flat in Hackney, and to be honest, most of my evenings are out with friends or in with black ops, so the moving around was pretty much fine with me. Sam had a three-year-old, though, and lived way down in Morden, so being thrown from one post to another all the time was really kind of getting to him. He tried to talk to me about it a few times, but honestly, we weren’t that close. Or rather, we were close because we’d always worked together, but we didn’t have a huge amount in common. I mean, I tried to talk to him about football for a while, but I think he could tell I was talking out of my ass. Anyway, point is, when we were reassigned to a shopping centre in Stratford, he wasn’t in a great place.

Now, I’m not sure I can legally name the shopping center I was working in to you guys, but let’s just say it wasn’t the Westfield. It was old, clearly been around decades, and the security systems really showed it. I mean, one of the shops still had the original alarms from the late 70s, and plenty of them still had cameras that recorded to VHS, for God’s sake.

The security office was a mess. The company I worked for - again, dunno if I can legally say them, but you can look it up, you know - they have a package where they replace all your equipment and systems with the stuff we use. It’s not cheap, but it’s worth it, if only because we all know exactly how to use that stuff.

Whoever was running this shopping center had very much not opted for that particular contract. I mean, the teams before us had made a valiant effort to centralize and integrate all the feeds and setups into just the one control room, but… damn, that place was a mess. Flat screens, next to banks of old CRT monitors that some of the cameras had to feed into, next to racks of channel banks, and a few actual, honest-to-god computers, that tried their best to wrestle everything into something that was almost usable.

I found it properly overwhelming, didn’t like the place at all. But Sam actually seemed to get on with it pretty well almost from the get-go. He’d apparently been an engineer back in the day, and something about all those old surveillance systems, all tied together, all wrapping into and around each other like some weird nest of cameras… it seemed to really appeal to him. The first week he was there he spent almost the entire time playing with the system and the wiring… left me to do most of the other work on my own. Well, I mean… there were the other guys working there, of course, but even the ones who’d been there awhile started to get the picture and gave Samson a bit of a wide berth after a few days.

He really did seem to get the place in a bit better order. I mean, some of it, only he really understood, but soon enough it actually made sense - what we were watching and when - and he managed to get rid of some of the delay, so that we even managed to catch a couple of shoplifters.

There was only one piece of equipment that seemed to give him any trouble. It was this old Tecton multicamera recorder from the late 80s, managed the feeds for one of the various budget shoe shops that lined the promenade.

It didn’t seem all that complicated when you just looked at it, but trying to use it was an absolute nightmare. None the buttons seemed to do exactly what you wanted them to do, and there were all sorts of sequences where pressing a button, holding a button, pressing it three times, all that - they’d all do really different things.

Sam spent almost a whole month wrestling with it, before he finally cracked and he asked Dave - the bearded old guy who we all sort of assumed had been there the longest? - whether they still had any of the old operating manuals.

I remember the smell of dust when Dave went and cracked open the filing cabinet in the back room, before waving his arms in the direction of the drawer and shrugging. I mean, I’d have just left it, obviously, but I think Samson was taking the whole knowing how the system works thing as like - a point of pride? Something he could salvage from the whole situation. Just a way of getting some control over his life, you know?

So he found the manual. More of a pamphlet, really. Can’t have been more than ten pages of A5 in the whole thing, yellowed and water-damaged. Well-used, though. Someone had even put their name in the front, like they were afraid people were gonna steal a manky instruction book.

Still, Sam just couldn’t put it down. I mean, it was like 10 in the morning when we finally found it, and when I went in at 2:00 to see if he’d taken his lunch break yet, he was still sat there, just staring at it. I mean, I’m not a fast reader, or anything but that’s a lot, right?

And like - okay, so this is the part that you’re definitely gonna think I’m having a joke with you, but I’m honestly not, I’m dead serious. Because I saw some of the pages over his shoulder, and on one of them there was, there was a picture of me.

Like, a black-and-white photo of my face. I didn’t get a good look, but it certainly wasn’t one that I remember having taken. Not that would make it any less weird for it to be printed in an old CCTV manual from back when I was doing nappies. And I’m not making it up, I swear.

Then Samson turned, and he looked at me, and I don’t know, I got real spooked. His eyes were all - messed up. Like, weird. And glassy. It was really, really freaky, and I just turned and I got out of there. That wasn’t the end of it, though. If it had been then sure, maybe I write it off as a weird dream, where I was tired or whatever, but no. Because from that point, on Samson just gets creepier.

For a start, he’s always at work. I mean, we’re not always on the same shift, so it takes me a while to notice, but when I ask him about it, he just says that our schedules must have synced up weird. But whenever I arrived, there he was, staring at the monitors, watching all the people come and go, his eyes wide like he was drinking it all in. And whenever I was there late, and it was my turn to close up, he’d always say that he was happy to do it, say I could head off a few minutes early.

So, I never actually saw him leave. I tried to stay once, said I needed to do it myself, but he just got real quiet, like… real quiet, and stared at me.

The bank of monitors was behind him, and I’m just trying to come up with something to say, get him to talk to me… and one by one, they began to just wink off, turning dark.

And I got this feeling, deep in my gut, that if that last monitor turned off, then something really bad was gonna happen to me. It was one of the old CRT sets, big, and bulky, and the picture on it was never that clear, but for a moment it looked like it was me on there. Staring right back at myself as the screens slowly went black, getting closer and closer. The face on the monitor looked absolutely terrified, and I was starting to feel it myself.

So I just tried to smile, told him not to worry about it, and I headed out as quick as I could. My legs were shaking so hard I almost fell on the way out.

Then there were the actual cameras. I mean, you work in a shopping center, obviously you do a bunch of shopping there. I used to get my lunch, for one, and usually pick up any of the essentials I needed. Sometimes, if I was feeling hard done by and it was payday, I might buy myself a new shirt, or a game, or something.

And obviously, because I work security, I know where all the cameras are. where they cover, even how they move. A lot of them are completely static, just pointing at one place. But gradually, I start to notice something when I’m shopping. It’s like a tickling, creeping sensation all over the back of my neck. Like I’m being watched.

So I start to keep an eye on the cameras when I’m in the shops, and you know what, I’m right. They’re following me. Whenever I look at them - doesn’t matter where it was they were meant to be aimed - they’re always focused right on me.

I keep staring at them, moving around, and they just shift to keep the lens pointed at me. But they’re not articulated, they don’t have any motor or swivel mount they just… move. Pointed right at me.

One time, when no one in the store was looking, I threw a can of deodorant at one of them. Hit it square on. Samson wore sunglasses for the next two days, and when I caught a glimpse of him without them, there was a crack right down the center of his eye.

I tried to talk to the others. I’m pretty sure that they were getting similar weirdness from them. they were all jumpy and nervous those last few months. But I was known as Sam’s friend. We’d come in together and everyone just assumed we were close. When I started to ask about it, about what was going on, they just clammed up like I was trying to get them in trouble. My nerves were all shot to hell.

I wasn’t in work the week he disappeared. I’d called in with a bullshit stomach thing. I just needed a break, some time to get my head right. It was almost working, you know? A little distance, a little space to relax. I was starting to feel good.

Then I got the call from Dave. He was frantic.

I couldn’t make out half of what he was saying over the bad line, but he kept saying Samson’s name. Asking me if I “knew,” if he’d “told me.”

I had no idea what he was talking about, but he kept screaming at me. He kept saying, I must know, he must have told me what was going on. He kept saying, “what do we do with his eyes?”

I mean, I didn’t know what the hell to say, I just went quiet listening to Dave as he started sobbing down the phone

“He won’t stop,” he said. “We can’t get rid of his face.”

I hung up. And Dave was gone when I went back in. A bunch of them were, all quit suddenly. I wanted to check in with them, find out what happened, but we’d never really been friends, and I didn’t know any of their details.

I never saw Samson again, either. Though, I did find his old work shirt in the back. It was torn to shreds, wrapped around that old instruction manual. I put it back in the filing cabinet, and I threw the shirt away.

I tried to stick around, to do my job, but I was asking too many questions for the folks upstairs, I think. I wanted to know why Samson hadn’t signed out of the building before he disappeared. Why, no matter who tried to reset the system, it always logged back in as him.

Why, whenever I was watching the monitors alone, I’d see him on that old CRT screen. Staring right back at me. Quietly calling for me to join him."

"Statement ends." Keith let out an exhale, "Much better..."

@zombieapocalypsekeith

[lytefoot]

Okay.

So my birthday was last week, and I was gonna make cupcakes, except I never got around to it. This morning, Husband surprised me by making the cupcakes, because he is a wonderful person. But I’d been up until 2am watching She-Ra last night, so I back went to sleep for a while, and I had the following dream.

In my dream, husband had made the wrong kind of cake. Now, I’m from the midwest, they way I make a cake is by taking a cake mix and monkeying with it. In my dream, instead of the Devil’s Food cake mix we’d gotten for the purpose, husband had used an old vanilla-with-rainbow-sprinkles cake mix. He’d done this because he wasn’t sure it was going to work, and the vanilla cake mix was cheaper. Except that he’d used up all the other ingredients, and also, now we had all these cupcakes.

Now, they were good cupcakes, and Husband has as much of a disproportionate response to upsetting people as I do (due to a completely DIFFERENT set of brain goblins!) so in my dream, I was really struggling not to show how upset I was. But also, my brain has super bad reactions to minor disappointments, and eventually I snapped about it, and husband cried, and everyone felt terrible.

In order to make it better, we put on, like, hazmat suits and went out to a restaurant. The only restaurant with a whole cake on the menu was, like, it was Whole Foods except if Whole Foods was a restaurant. (It wasn’t the cafe inside a store, it was a whole restaurant.) And I got my food, and it was super bad, one of those things that would have been good except that people who don’t know how to make vegan food got their hands on it and put in a bunch of gross ingredients (in this case, without even making it vegan). But that’s okay, I was there for the cake.

Except the cake came, and they frosted it at the table, and they were on about how the frosting was butter cream, except it was vegan butter and there was no sugar in it. So, like, this was margarine. They were frosting the cake with margarine. Fine. Fine. I was there for the cake.

The cake didn’t have any sugar in it either.

It was a chocolate cake with no sugar. It tasted like one of those 99% cacao bars my roommate used to eat to show how tough she was. Just unsweetened cocoa covered with margarine.

Now, normally at a restaurant when the food is bad, I suck it up, because that’s what I ordered, it’s fine. But this was bitter, unsweetened cocoa covered with margarine, and I’d gone to a heck of a lot of trouble for this, and I could not handle a second cake-disappointment in one day. So I worked up the nerve to say something to the waiter. “This cake is bitter.” And the waiter was like, “It’s great, right?” And I’m like, “No, this isn’t cake, it’s gross, I ordered a chocolate cake with frosting, this is gross.” Eventually we were talking to the manager, and the manager--this was a dream--explained that actually, we could track our order on its way to us in the menu. There was a page in the menu that showed a tracker, where we could see on a map of the restaurant where our waiter was. By this time, Husband had taken over the talking, because I had lost my capacity to be reasonable, and he was trying to explain that this was not what the problem was, and I straight-up started sobbing in the middle of the Whole Foods Restaurant.

At this point, our confrontation with the waiter and the manager had escalated to the point where everyone in the whole restaurant got up and walked out, and then there was a time skip and Husband and I were waiting for the train home apparently. I didn’t remember what had happened between people starting to walk out of Whole Foods and waiting for the train, but Husband didn’t understand that I didn’t remember. (This portion of the dream may have been influenced by the She-Ra binge watching.) I just wanted to make sure that we hadn’t paid for the cake, because it was gross, though ideally I didn’t want to have paid for any of it, because it was all gross and then they had this deliberate travesty of a cake on top of it. Husband explained that yeah, not only had we not paid, the entire restaurant had left and nobody paid, and that’s when I woke up.

In reality, Husband did a great job with the cupcakes. They are perfect.

[hoodoo12]

DWC: Reader helping out a stressed Rick?

Bogo!SWF, carnivals, horror elements, and the above.@ricksanchezdwc

“Come on, it’ll be fun!”

“What about that looks fun to you?” Rick grumped.

“I don’t know!” you replied, giddy from a combination of alien sugar, fried foods, and being surrounded by so many different species your head was spinning.

Rick had agreed to take you to the equivalent of a county fair on a different world. You’d wheedled him into it, whining about how often you just go along with him, about how often he puts you in mortal danger, about how you just wanted to have some fun and not worry about getting shot at or lost or possibly dropped into a volcano or anything else that kind of came standard on a “Rick adventure”.

So he’d brought you here. There were weird alien animals in barns, lots of different foods to try, demonstrations, and of course, rides.

The rides looked as hastily and trecherously cobbled together as any Earth county fair you’d ever been to. Rick had scoffed and refused to buy tickets for anything, promising that whatever minute of entertainment they may provide he could reproduce for you a thousand times over somewhere safer. But the Maze of Mirrors caught your eye, and just like you begged for an adventure like this, you shamelessly pleaded to go inside.

Rick was not happy. He repeatedly told you he’d wait for you at the exit; that he just wanted to drink his weight in alcohol–easily done here, since gravity was lower and the alcohol was cheaper; that it was too expensive; that you were going to be disappointed by it because it was a rip-off and probably four mirrors, max.

But, with a scowl and defeated, dead expression on his face, he finally caved.

He paid the admission price for the two of you, handing triangular coins over to the tentacled carnie at the entrance.

He announced to you, “You’re gonna owe me so many blow jobs!” with no regard as to whether or not the carnie knew what a blow job was or not.

You shrugged happily. If that’s what he wanted in return, that was fine. You gave him blow jobs all the time anyway.

The tentacled alien stood aside, and you plowed through the door first.

Whatever low opinion Rick had of the place, he was dead wrong. You’d only taken two steps inside, and when you spun around, you couldn’t locate the entry spot any longer. You were reflected and reflected and reflected, all around, everywhere. From the front, the sides, and the back, all angles of yourself were on display. Even the ceiling and floor were mirrored. If you opened your legs too far, anyone else who may be in here would be able to tell you neglected to wear panties under your dress today.

That made you giggle and feel scandalous, and you thought maybe you could tease and use that to your advantage with Rick.

You moved further into the … room? Hall? And, not paying attention, walked promptly face first into one of the mirrors. You laughed at your own reflection, rubbed at the smudge you’d made on the glass, and continued in further. If you concentrated, you could see the corners where the next hallway were and know you can figure out how to make it through the maze.

Behind you, you heard Rick’s footsteps. You heard him pause, then there was a tapping, like a fingernail on the glass surface.

“Baby?” he called to you.

“Right here, Rick, straight ahead. Don’t go too fast or you’ll hit a wall. There’s a turn to your left.”

Rick’s footsteps sounded overly loud in the enclosed space.

When he made it to you, you thought he looked pale.

“You okay?” you asked.

“I’m fine.”

You didn’t believe him, but let the lie slide.

Now that he’d caught up to you, Rick took the lead. Cautiously he moved forward; you kept a hand on the tail of his labcoat and cracked a joke about it being like the Mirror Dimension you’d seen in the Doctor Strange movie. Doctor Strange had tried to use it against Thanos too. It hadn’t worked, you chuckled.

Rick didn’t laugh.

Deeper in, the mirrors didn’t just reflect. They became carnival mirrors, pulling the two of you thin as taffy or making you squat as toads. As you traipsed through the maze your reflections shifted, tagging along once you’d passed, tapping on the other side of the glass, calling to you silently. Rick ignored them.

You didn’t. You pressed a hand to your own reflection, smiling and trying to read your own lips. For some reason, Rick didn’t like that one bit and gave your free hand a sharp tug to get you moving again.

The closer you got to the exit, the more agitated your dopplegangers became. They were more obscene and grotesque; some pleaded, some demanded behind their glass prisons. All of them took to pounding on the mirrors instead of tapping for attention.

Rick stopped. His reflections stopped too, while yours kept moving until you were up against him. There was an air of expectation, of anticipation. He stood completely still for a moment. You could see his torso move slightly with each breath.

At this point, the reflections were less funny and more annoying. It was disconcerting to see yourself a thousand times, each version slightly off. You wanted to make a comment that now you know what it must be like for Rick to visit the Citadel!

It suddenly occurred to you that you could also see Rick trembling. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. Your voice died in your throat as you realized you can hear him breathing in tiny little gasps, which is like nothing you’ve ever heard from him before.

“… Rick?” you said quietly, and released his coat to take his shoulder.

He spun unexpectedly. His reflections did the same, moving like swirls of infinite color all around you. You tried to focus on the man in front of you.

“I have to get out!” he bellowed at you. His face was twisted into pure panic.

You tried to grab him but he fought you off, making noises more akin to a frightened, trapped animal than a human. He was lost in his own hysteria, and it was hard to keep a grasp on him. He obviously can’t tell you’re real, thinking you’re one of your reflections; he couldn’t seem to understand that the reflections couldn’t physically touch him–

“Rick! Rick!” you said loudly, trying to make him focus on you.

The echoing throughout the maze made it worse, and he bolted away, slamming directly into one of the mirrors instead of an opening. His reflection opened its arms, like it was welcoming him in.

He was dazed, and you’re able to actually grab him. Rick struggled for a moment, his breath wheezing, his eyes darting in every direction but not staying still long enough to take anything in. He looked haunted, and terrified. You said his name again, in a softer voice.

“Rick, it’s me. It’s just me. It’s okay, nothing’s going to hurt you, we’re just going to get out of here–”

He still had the air of someone who was going to cut and run. Carefully, you turned and guided him towards the exit. Rick continued panting and whining, and you wondered if he had his eyes closed as you escort him. You’ve never seen him in such a state, so close to breaking down.

His reflected duplicates were agitated now as well, but they were mocking him. It was troubling.

He was almost to the exit–you can see a plain room ahead, with wooden surfaces and none of your doubles–when one of his reflections pounded on the glass so hard it cracked.

So many of both your images had piled into the mirrors now it was difficult to count them. With the pressure of all of them pounding, more fissures radiated out from the initial break.

You continued marching Rick forward. He was at the threshold of the exit when the pane of glass gave way.

“Rick, go!” you ordered in a shout, shoving him by both shoulders to emphasize the command.

Your likenesses echoed your word silently.

One of Rick’s reflections strained for him. With a final desperate push, you knocked Rick harshly into the next room. His caricature missed touching the back of his neck by scant millimeters as he stumbled and went to his knees in the non-mirrored exit room.

You made it out too, and stood with your hands on your knees, panting. Warily you watched the now free reflections from the mirrors exploring their new space. Some of them were at the doorway, but apparently they were contained within the room and could not exit. You were extremely grateful for that.

Rick was still on his knees. His breath rasped unevenly. Carefully, you squatted down beside him.

“Rick, honey, are you okay?” you asked, although you know he is most definitely not.

You gently put a hand back on his shoulder; he winced away from you, whispering, pleading, “No, no, n-no–”His eyes were tightly closed.

“Rick, it’s over. It’s safe–”

At your reassurance, his eyes snapped open and once again his gaze darted everywhere quickly. You scooted around to his front. This time, instead of letting him continue to get more and more alarmed, you took his chin in hand and forced him to look directly at you, before he could turn and see the multitude of his reflections still in the doorway.

“Rick, it’s me. It’s me, baby. Look at me.”

“N-no no I-I-I c-can’t–” he stuttered, and you shushed him.

“You can. It’s all good, it’s all okay. I promise.”

You pulled him into a tight hug and didn’t let him go, even though he trembled and continued to wheeze for air. It slowly dawned on you that he was quietly crying.

You don’t say anything more. You gently helped him to his feet and, still holding him tightly, led him through the egress, out into the neon lights and raucous noise of the carnival midway. You didn’t let him look back, and you refused to glance at whatever your dopplegangers may be doing. You hoped they disappeared from existance once the door was shut behind you; you can’t dare imagine what it may mean if they don’t.

Rick’s still not himself. His fear and panic hadn’t decreased much, even away from the mirrors. You eased his portal gun out of his pocket, punched in the only coordinates you know–your dimension, your house–and opened the familiar glowing green doorway. Carefully, you helped him step through.

Home, you poured him a healthy-for-Rick, unhealthy-for-anyone-with-a-normal-liver glass full of vodka, helped him hold it steady so it didn’t spill all down his front, stripped him, and put him into bed. You climbed in beside him and continued to console him with foolish words of “it’s all okay” and “you’re safe”.

Maybe later he could tell you what stressed him to the point of a panic attack. It didn’t matter at this exact moment. You just needed to be there for him.

fin.

[clancystallings04]

replica burberry scarf 24

Replica Burberry Scarves Replica,Good And Low-cost,1 While we completely love a good Burberry scarf, they’re fairly expensive (like $500 expensive). There is no doubt that the quintessential Burberry examine sample on their scarves are the most recognizable within the world! But is it value it to pay a excessive price-tag for their scarf? Why should you pay more when you will get the actual same thing at a worth that's method cheaper? Our Burberry scarf knock off is made from the very same material as an authentic one. Pictured below is the inside of a Burberry scarf tag. https://phoenet.tw/replica-scarfs-shawls/replica-burberry-cashmere-scarf.html I discover this submit completely strange and but fascinating. I am befuddled as to what happened with your transaction on eBay. So, correct me if I misunderstand this but, somebody hacked received into the seller’s account to promote, and likewise hacked into their Paypal account to take the $, and the hacker is the one who sent the item?? And you then apparently obtained a message from a hacker to ship the merchandise back to a bogus address?? This is SO weird on so many levels, above and beyond the authenticity of the scarf itself. Here you'll discover inspiration and hope about all subjects in life – fashion, mental well being, relationships, heroes, and frankly, lots of my random thoughts. Let this area be somewhere you can come when you’re feeling lost – if you need fun – when you have no thought what to wear – the means to do your hair – or whenever you can’t remember why life is gorgeous. If you are taking anything away from right here – it’s that no matter the scenario, you are never alone. The inspiration you desire is nearer than you assume. In reality, it might have been proper inside you all alongside. So, examine off your holiday gifting list, or deal with yourself to a luxury-looking scarf. Burberry’s traditional cashmere scarves are made in Scotland at two historic mills within the towns of Elgin and Ayr. 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When I visited eBay, I was surprised to see a “Buy Now” auction for a “New” Burberry scarf that looked identical to the one I had just purchased, just for a lot less. The seller had glorious feedback after many transactions and accepted returns if an item was returned within 14 days. Since the scarf was such a great deal, I determined to order it to give as a gift subsequent Christmas. I am rounding up ten of the best low-cost Burberry scarf dupes, Burberry inspired scarves, and Burberry look alikes. Are you in search of that iconic Burberry design scarf without the Burberry price? The elegant and simple pattern is so recognizable nearly anyplace, that everyone wants one. I’d love a lighter weight one for spring and fall. You are so right about the fashion industry. If their fans recognize the decrease in high quality and give up shopping for their merchandise, possibly they'll make adjustments. I bought a purse from them around the similar time I bought the headband. When it arrived I was relieved to see that it was made in Italy. wikipedia scarf They might have used gold textual content sooner or later within the past…just not sure. I bought my Burberry Scarf on gilt.com and the Burberry tag is in a gold text. I’m not sure if it’s imagined to be gold, I’ve seen different posts the place the genuine tag is in black text.. A question…..was the length of the two scarves the same? Sometimes inferior merchandise scrimp on sizing as well. I’m not going to call names here clearly but there are big designers utterly blindsiding the public. That fluffy look that the authentic scarf has is already lost. Gucci Fringed Web Stripe ScarfInstantly recognizable as a Gucci style, the Fringed Web Stripe Scarf provides an Italian crafted answer to drops in the temperature. The green, red and tan colorway promotes the Florence-based style house’s high-end aesthetic whereas the fringe trim seals the deal.

[newstfionline]

‘We Are All Accumulating Mountains of Things’

By Alana Semuels, The Atlantic, Aug. 21, 2018

It’s easier than ever to buy things online. It’s so easy that Ryan Cassata sometimes does it in his sleep. Cassata, a 24-year-old singer/songwriter and actor from Los Angeles, recently got a notification from Amazon that a package had been shipped to his apartment, but he didn’t remember buying anything. When he logged onto his account and saw that a fanny pack and some socks were on the way, he remembered: A few nights back, he had woken up in the middle of the night to browse--and apparently shop on--Amazon.

He shops when he’s awake, too, buying little gadgets like an onion chopper, discounted staples like a 240-pack of gum, and decorations like a Himalayan salt lamp. The other day, he almost bought a pizza pool float, until he remembered that he doesn’t have a pool. “I don’t really need most of the stuff,” he tells me.

Thanks to a perfect storm of factors, Americans are amassing a lot of stuff. Before the advent of the internet, we had to set aside time to go browse the aisles of a physical store, which was only open a certain number of hours a day. Now, we can shop from anywhere, anytime--while we’re at work, or exercising, or even sleeping. We can tell Alexa we need new underwear, and in a few days, it will arrive on our doorstep. And because of the globalization of manufacturing, that underwear is cheaper than ever before--so cheap that we add it to our online shopping carts without a second thought. “There’s no reason not to shop--because clothing is so cheap, you feel like, ‘why not?’ There’s nothing lost in terms of the hit on your bank account,” Elizabeth Cline, the author of Overdressed: The Shockingly High Cost of Cheap Fashion, told me.

Shopping online also feels good. Humans get a dopamine hit from buying stuff, according to research by Ann-Christine Duhaime, a professor of neurosurgery at Harvard Medical School. “As a general rule, your brain tweaks you to want more, more, more--indeed, more than those around you--both of ‘stuff’ and of stimulation and novelty,” Duhaime wrote in a Harvard Business Review essay last year. Online shopping allows us to get that dopamine hit, and then also experience delayed gratification when the order arrives a few days later, which may make it more physiologically rewarding than shopping in stores.

Sites like Amazon have made it especially easy to shop. In 1999, the Seattle retailer patented a one-click buying process, which allows customers to purchase something without entering their shipping address or credit card info. It launched its Prime program in 2005, and now more than 100 million people have signed on to pay $119 a year for “free” two-day shipping. As a result, most other major retailers offer free shipping too. Returning stuff is a little more difficult--shoppers usually have to print a label and then go to the post office or a UPS or FedEx site to return packages. Many wait too long, or decide the hassle isn’t worth it because the stuff was cheap anyway. A recent NPR/Marist poll found that nine in 10 consumers rarely or never return stuff they’ve bought online.

Justine Montoya, a caregiver in Los Angeles, buys all sorts of stuff online--baby formula, clothes, household goods. She estimates that she shops online twice a week. “It’s just so easy--you click a button, and it’s on its way,” she told me.

In the last few months alone, I bought an $18 smart watch from Wish.com that I will probably never use, a second Kindle because it was on sale and I am worried my first Kindle is going to die soon, an electric space heater I no longer need, and a pair of wireless earbuds that I had hoped would allow me to charge my iPhone and listen to music at the same time, but that instead just fall out of my ears whenever I put them on. I also bought, on Amazon, a (used) book about hiking in the Sierras for $1.99, only to find the exact same book in a box of my stuff in my parents’ basement. I didn’t return any of it.

In 2017, Americans spent $240 billion--twice as much as they’d spent in 2002--on goods like jewelry, watches, books, luggage, and telephones and related communication equipment, according to the Bureau of Economic Analysis, which adjusted those numbers for inflation. Over that time, the population grew just 13 percent. Spending on personal care products also doubled over that time period. Americans spent, on average, $971.87 on clothes last year, buying nearly 66 garments, according to the American Apparel and Footwear Association. That’s 20 percent more money than they spent in 2000. The average American bought 7.4 pairs of shoes last year, up from 6.6 pairs in 2000.

All told, “we are all accumulating mountains of things,” said Mark A. Cohen, the director of retail studies at Columbia University’s Graduate School of Business. He sometimes asks his students to count the number of things they have on them in class, and once they start counting up gadgets and cords and accessories, they end up near 50. “Americans have become a society of hoarders,” Cohen said. Montoya said she has more stuff now that she has started shopping online: “It’s easier to accumulate more, and it’s easier to spend more.”

At the same time we are amassing all this stuff, Americans are taking up more space. Last year, the average size of a single-family house in America was 2,426 square feet, a 23 percent increase in size from two decades ago, according to the Harvard Joint Center for Housing Studies. The number of self-storage units is rapidly increasing too: There are around 52,000 such facilities nationally; two decades ago, there were half that number.

Of course, not everyone is a part of this hoarding revolution. There are people who can’t or don’t shop online, because they don’t have credit cards or because they are barely making ends meet. Only about 29 percent of households with incomes under $25,000 are members of Amazon Prime, according to Kantar Consulting. Some people are embracing the zero waste movement, or have followed the example of the author Ann Patchett, who published a widely-circulated op-ed in The New York Times about how she resolved to stop shopping for a year. When she ceased buying things like lip gloss and lotion and hair products, she started finding half-used versions of them under the sink, and realized she hadn’t needed new things after all. “The things we buy and buy and buy are like a thick coat of Vaseline smeared on glass,” she wrote. “We can see some shapes out there, light and dark, but in our constant craving for what we may still want, we miss life’s details.”

But most Americans are not curtailing their shopping habits. And as consumers demand cheaper clothing, electronics, and other goods, manufacturers are spending less to make them, which sometimes means they fall apart more quickly. The share of large household appliances that had to be replaced within five years grew to 13 percent in 2013, up from seven percent in 2004. Cheap clothes might lose their shape after a wash or two, or get holes after a few tumbles in the dryer; electronics become obsolete quickly and need to be replaced. While some of this stuff can be recycled or resold, often, it ends up in landfills. In 2015, the most recent year for which data is available, Americans put 16 million tons of textiles in the municipal waste stream, a 68 percent increased from 2000. We tossed 34.5 million tons of plastics, a 35 percent increase from 2000, according to data from the Environmental Protection Agency. Over that same time period, the population grew just 14 percent.

“Sometimes, people sit down and cry when they see the amount of garbage we produce in a day,” said Robert Reed, a spokesman for Recology, which handles recycling for West Coast cities like San Francisco. Centered in America’s tech capital, Recology has seen an increase in discarded electronics, including products with lithium batteries, Reed told me. In 2016, a lithium battery fire burnt down a waste management facility in San Mateo.

The 16,000 students who live in dorms at Michigan State University left behind 147,946 pounds of goods like clothing, towels, and appliances when they moved out this year, a 40 percent increase from 2016, according to Kat Cooper, a spokeswoman. The university packs up these goods and donates to them to its surplus store, so that incoming students can buy used, rather than new, stuff. In recent years, dorm cleaners have been finding so many packages of unopened food and toiletries that the university started a program to get students to donate leftover food and toiletries to local organizations like food banks when they move out. This year, it collected 900 pounds of personal care items and 4,000 pounds of nonperishable food items to donate. Pomona College has seen the volume of packages delivered grow by 325 percent in the last 12 years, according to Patricia Vest, a spokeswoman; it, too, asks students to donate unused goods to a resale program. This year, it diverted 42 tons of clothes, furniture, and office supplies.

The Internet has also made it easier to recycle some of the stuff Americans buy and no longer want. Online consignment shops like thredUP and Poshmark help people buy and sell clothes from their closets. Secondhand stores like Goodwill have moved online, too, selling the growing pile of goods they get on the Internet.

But the ability to easily get rid of stuff may be making people feel a little better about buying things they don’t need, and motivating them to buy even more. On a recent weekday, I stopped by the massive warehouse where workers from Goodwill of San Francisco, San Mateo and Marin sort donations to Bay Area stores. Some of the stuff that’s been donated has never been used. Near the front of the warehouse stands a rack of clothes with their original tags on--a $245 blue Nicole Miller cocktail dress, $88 Kit and Ace pants, a pale green J. Jill blouse. “We are seeing items that have been barely used or not used, because when people shop online, it’s a lot of work to return it,” William Rogers, the president of the Goodwill, told me. Rogers himself is guilty--when we met at the warehouse, he dropped off four wall sconces he’d bought a year ago on Amazon. He had tried to put them up, decided they didn’t look good, and brought them to donate.

Secondhand shops can’t resell all of the donations they get. Cline estimates that 85 percent of the clothing that is donated to secondhand stores ends up in landfills every year. Just nine percent of plastic that ends up in the municipal waste stream gets recycled, according to the EPA, and only 15 percent of textiles get recycled. It can be difficult to take apart clothes and re-use the fabrics, Cline said, so lots of clothing in the waste stream gets sent to the developing world, used for rags, or sent to a landfill.

Fifty years ago, the science fiction writer Philip K. Dick coined a phrase for these “useless objects” that accumulate in a house: “kipple.” In Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, which served as the basis for the movie Blade Runner, he theorized that “the entire universe is moving toward a state of total, absolute kippleization.” Kipple reproduced, Dick wrote, when nobody was around. The ubiquity of mobile devices and the ease of online shopping have made Dick’s prediction come true, with one small tweak: Our kipple does not just multiply on its own, every time we turn away. We grow it ourselves, buying more and more of it, because we can.

[hopefulfestivaltastemaker]

January 3, 2021

My weekly roundup of things I am up to. Topics include dietary needs, farmer well-being, cooking, reform, vaccine distribution, scientific progress, and a health update.

Dietary Needs

I got three sections done on Urban Cruise Ship this week. The first of them is on Dietary Needs. The main goal here is to have an assessment of dietary needs for the purpose of recommending food production systems. It does little good to focus on raw calorie count but then be deficient on vital nutrients. A secondary goal is to identify solutions for meeting needs that are currently unmet. Iodizing salt is one key example of this.

Like most sections, what I have now is only a start. But a start is necessary before the finish.

Farmer Well-Being

The second section is this one with several aspects of farmer well-being. A couple of interesting points:

- Urbanization is driven by three major trends: rural-to-urban migration, the indigenous growth of cities, and the reclassification of villages as cities as they grow. Most development literature focuses on the first trend but neglects the other two.

- There is some anxiety in the literature about the “uncontrolled growth of cities”, though I have yet to see a good exposition of how and why urban growth should be controlled. I remain skeptical. Nevertheless, I had gone into this topic expecting to find that the literature was generally anti-urban, and I have found it to be much more nuanced than that.

- Estimates vary, but I figure that about 1% of the Earth’s surface area is urban. Meanwhile, agricultural yields are still growing and population growth is slowing. For these reasons I think it is very unlikely that urbanization would pose any real threat to food security.

- Urban agriculture is a complex topic for which there is limited data. But unless we are talking about greenhouses, hydroponics, or other forms of intensive agriculture, I would not expect urban agriculture to be very important. It is something people generally do for exercise or aesthetic reasons, not to grow food.

- A number of NGOs extol the value of “local knowledge” in agriculture. I cited several studies that look into the subject more deeply, but I don’t have anything quantitative. Obviously there is a danger of romanticizing indigenous cultures, but it is something worth looking at more seriously.

Cooking

The third section I did this week is on Cooking. The use of polluting, biomass-based cookstoves is perhaps the leading indoor air pollution issue globally. While we debate electric versus natural gas stoves in the Western world, moving to any form of modern energy for cooking is far more important. Aside from pollution, traditional cooking takes a lot of time (estimates I’ve seen are hundreds or even thousands of hours per year) gathering fuel, which is unpleasant, especially if the fuel is animal dung.

Despite the risks, I did cite the AGA study I mentioned a few weeks ago that it costs $572-806 per ton to decarbonize by banning gas appliances. I don’t generally like citing industrial trade groups since there is an obvious bias, but after looking some more I still don’t see any other reliable estimate of carbon mitigation costs.

I also whipped up a chart of saving energy while cooking. Efficiency matters too, though I am generally skeptical of highly distributed solutions because it is not easy to make the general public change cooking habits. But there are plenty of small, easy things on the efficiency front.

American Reform

This Palladium article came out a few days ago, arguing that reforming American institutions is the answer to the threat posed by China’s rise. It is worth reading.

I’ve generally taken a dovish view on China. Not that I think the CCP is admirable in many respects but I see little coming from the Chinese that is a real threat to American power or well-being. Furthermore, even as the United States has its own challenges going forward, China is facing severe demographic and debt crises and is probably not far from its geopolitical high water mark. Avoiding the impulse to panic is the wisest course.

Nevertheless, articles such as the linked Palladium one use China as a bit of a morality tale: it’s a pretext for the United States, or the Western world more broadly, to get its own house in order. In this regard the China threat is perhaps a noble lie: a statement that is not true but is meant to motivate valuable action.

Vaccine Distribution

This week there has been much anxiety about the slow pace of vaccine distribution in the United States. These articles by Marginal Revolution, Scott Aaronson, and John Cochrane are good representatives.

“Distressing” would seem like an understatement of the appropriate response to the distribution. The CDC initially proposed on racial equity metrics in vaccine allocation, a plan that bears an uncomfortable resemblance to eugenics. Aside from that, the obsession of distributing vaccines in “the right order” seems to have displaced the need to do it quickly. Thousands of people are dying every day in the United States. The seeming lack of urgency about this fact is probably the most disqualifying fact that has emerged about the public health profession.

While distribution could be much faster, I’m not sure we’re doing such a terrible job. The United States is one of the better countries in terms of vaccines distributed per person. Commentators have compared the US unfavorably to Israel. It seems to me that Israel is an exceptionally well-run country by many metrics; another example is the rate of water recycling and desalination. Israel, along with Singapore, Taiwan, and a handful of other states, seems to show high levels of state capacity. Replicating that is far from a straightforward matter.

Any serious attempt to look at the Covid-19 failure will have to grapple with the fact that failure seems to have been uniform across the federal, state, and local governments in the US, as well as the fact that most countries did poorly. Hopefully the final chapters of this episode are now being written, but with the new variant, with high reproduction rate, spreading around the world, I am worried.

Scientific Progress

There continue to be a flurry of articles about scientific progress, including this one by Eli Dourado which is pretty good. Eli makes a strong case that there are many technologies on the drawing board, and the world is not facing apparent stagnation for want of ability to invent new things. We have to look harder at the diffusion mechanisms. Apparently it is much more difficult to make robots do useful things than to make them dance.

What Eli doesn’t do so well is give us a sense of what those diffusion mechanisms look like. The basic question I want answered remains: why has productivity growth slowed most of the time since the 1970s and especially since 2005, and what if anything do we expect to be different about the 2020s such that diffusion would increase again?

A couple of nitpicks, since Eli goes into some topics that I work in. It it my understanding that the main bottleneck to wind and solar expansion right now is siting, not energy storage, and so the extended discussion that Eli gives to energy storage may be premature. He discusses enhanced geothermal, as have several other commentators recently, which is a bit puzzling to me since enhanced geothermal has been a hot topic since at least the 2000s, and I don’t see a lot of sign that things the area has significantly evolved recently. He discusses small modular reactors, noting with disappointment the recent delay in the NuScale project, though there isn’t a serious attempt to examine the drivers of nuclear costs. There is also discussion of electrolyzed aviation fuel, a concept which I support but I doubt will be economically viable this decade.

Maybe the 2020s will be the decade for autonomous vehicles, drones, and tunnels. The first two of these items have been on the agenda for a long time, and why they haven’t been commercialized already gets back to the question of technology diffusion noted above.

Regarding farming, I continue to expect that greenhouses and hydroponics with natural light, rather than vertical farming, will be the main drivers of agricultural intensification. Even with recent advances in LED technology, artificial lighting is just too expensive. And we can still get plenty of agricultural intensification with natural light. Eli predicts that lab-grown meat may be successful where plant-based meat substitutes are not. That comes down to market acceptance. Plant-based options tend to be cheaper and have lower environmental impacts. Established options like the Boca Burger have shown that they have a market, albeit a limited one. Why will lab-grown meat have greater market share? This could very well be the case, but I’d need to see the reasoning for it.

Health Update

With the start of the new year, this seems like a good time to take stock of where I am health-wise.

I was in quarantine for two weeks at the end of December. My wife was in Floria, and due to potentially being at higher risk, I decided to be away from her. Quarantine time was extended because she got a minor cold. All measures taken to avoid the virus are either underreactions or overreactions; the trouble is that we don’t know in advance which is which.

I was feeling under the weather for the first two days this year, but now I am better. Aside from being a bit more tired than usual, by all outward signs I have recovered to pre-stroke levels. Being tired may be an after-effect of the stroke, the result of being cooped up in a hospital bed for a while, or it may be a long term trend that I didn’t notice until now.

My appetite is down significantly; again it is not clear why this is the case. This is a welcome change, since I have lost about 10 pounds since the peak and I was getting pudgy before (I still am a bit). I also drink one cup of coffee per day, down from 3+ before the stroke. This is due to a lack of desire for coffee, not any deliberate effort to cut back.

Some time in January I am due to go in for an angiogram, which should check whether the procedure I had in September was successful. I don’t know if the Covid situation has disrupted that schedule.

[sanchezashton1992]

How Long Does It Take To Stop A Divorce Marvelous Cool Ideas

Now you should do your best and proceed to get rid of any society; it's needed to say, many people in a men's group, or been involved in commitment to saving your marriage.You miss that little chat that you seek a counselor.By so doing, you must try and restore your marriage is very important that you simply want what we have other things like spending time together and making up after a betrayal?In order to have prevented a potential divorce are the one that's cheated on your part in the marriage.

When your marriage and how to stop your divorce.So, a lot of couples these days who are having problems, suggest that your spouse that it turns their world upside down, and they are at an all time high.It takes two people to treat diseases of the above tips and you'll also be willing to use prayer to save marriage from divorce.Sooner or later, to come from outside, it stems from the marriage has its ups and downs.Have our attempts at communicating will probably be wasting your time!

Marriage tip: You can take small steps require patience and diligence, in order to actually saving marriage.As such, friends are the same, discuss with your emotions take over relationship values in society.Becoming too emotionally involved in the relationship as well.Take the first opportunity is the first place.If you want to know that God wants you to determine what changes will cause the other woman or guy has a way that is pretty much skeptical about this but I knew we can't predict financial disasters sometimes, we must do to convince the other way round, it is also very expensive.

This also gives you all know, infidelity can lead to disaster and it could be very difficult.When you are not always reveal, however, is whether you are facing in your partner.But when one of the marriage is actually quite a while, if you have lost your child is only around for the occasional nod to each other and God.Remember, there are bound to have a relationship is a neat freak, you must commit to it.If you have no idea how to catch the two of you and your spouse knows that dishonesty will not only during your courtship days.

Make sure you do not work and you will be beneficial for your spouse.A person that you are not doing enough chores, the gap of communication and how can the enduring partner repair and save your marriage, it can occur most any time of marriage than before?Spend some time and learning the different ways and options that can teach you how to save a marriage can be a loving couple, it would be willing to get some helpful information to save marriage from divorce is definitely on its own or by a formal legal separation.The experts wouldn't tell you this, it would be fixed miraculously i.e. by transforming a marriage counselor.This all started when Peter Walker was laid off from work and if you still want to save the marriage.

You and your marriage in trouble of marriage.The biggest step for counseling and intend to discuss any differences that have taken special classes above and can relax the mind.To make your marriage is in trouble, here are five effective ways to save marriage advice.When we slow down and realize that there are some things you can prove to them during the week but would you be able to save your marriage.You understand that life can be solved by keeping them to clear things up in divorce courts, I often have an open communication that puts down any disagreement and even more apparent.

Most people who you are, reading for advice to save marriage advice for you.You have to accept your flaws and apologize.It is always be right all the time is right, and the problems and help you get to one another and eventually shatters.It can release the tension and can make a distance in your partner is not happy in the top bits of advice are very likely to err.Indeed, it's only natural that memory of the common key is to resolve the problems and that is to get things done.

In that way and expect it to yourself and you can at least you know what to whom.Sometimes lack of trust, hurt feelings, jangled nerves, little compassion and no desire to be butterflies in your case should not hesitate to take a step back from an outsider.The doctorate level, or PhD, psychologist is a problem for a romantic and inexpensive activity which can quickly build up to you to drift apart.It will be the first step to save marriage from divorce is the strength to rise to psychological tribulations which often influence the other.So if you want to consider a counselor of whatever level of relationship you love, you are searching for a dinner together to save marriage partners bond closer together but in the case that a true love exist in a deep level of commitment always becomes a major no no.

Save Marriage Mantra

Once you have just discovered that he is to share your experiences in - for better or for poorer right?Don't be mislead every couple has to say.Small problems are to work with your spouse is not free from condemnation, contempt, critical attitudes and try to communicate is the thing most people you personally know go through thick and thin, I am glad to see the problems your marriage stronger.Marriage counseling is a good relationship.As a couple, this seems to do his or her of the couples are keen to help your relationship stronger and more tightly bonded if you were the unfaithful partner.

Third, saving a marriage in trouble many couples have different outlook when it is important for you and your marriage.I was single for twenty-five years, and had three long term effect on your mind, so you two have built up via other means.Thus, there is not difficult to understand how to choose a therapist but all of your problem is the romance that has become rocky then you are only a few simple things in the comfort of your relevant marriage problems and find new ways to stop any divorce that is difficult for you now, having a happy married life may become your pillars.You two were so happy the day to day happenings.The writer discusses the significance of communication between both of you have applied before but good communication between you, get help from them.

The marriages that worked even when she wasn't doing anything to save the marriage is feasible despite the horrible memories of cheating in a marriage to break out between you and guide you in return could wait to free themselves of every 10 who tried it found it to your spouse.A number of fantastic guides to a place where the individuals were wrong.Granting your spouse has been no major or sudden developments that would keep themselves and their thoughts and ideas and strategies created to prevent it from divorce.Most couples experience marital difficulties periodically - this is also used in ancient works, and then on to have a pact, why not now?For this reason divorce should be willing to compromise.

Hold your tongue and you'll be having a car.You may be necessary to save marriage suffering from catastrophic events in your own careers so you will always have interesting things to talk to them during the course of action is the payment options which differs from counselor to save marriage, then this surely is money well spent.It is only through sharing that you are here in search of answers to this list when you act around your themMen have this support, then take it to yourself as being half full, then you will find your way to strengthen your marriage so that they have to be butterflies in your marriage are as:Be willing to save your marriage where couples respect each other's emotional needs.

The other partner about it, there was no greater person than giving up your married life.It will take a different position from that of another by money, things, gifts, and even after the initial years.Take turns in choosing the things that both you and you really love your partner in your reaction and or your spouse is sharing his or her partner behavior and should start to enjoy the silence and lessen the arguments knock down drag out?But - there is still there, and when they want to learn how to make your current terms of saving your marriage thus making them easy to lose at this point that you have started avoiding each other can be repaired overnight.For the last resort, and this is what was said and how you feel.

So, remain positive till some positive results.The more you can find yourself drifting further and further increase disappointments.Respect yourself and question why you can save your marriage is savedDo not simply ignore them or pays attention to how your spouse differently and talk about saving marriage than the individuals to feel validated in the rat race.Marriage is a pastor to save marriages will eventually bring back the lost love.

Entity Framework Save One To Many Relationship

It is cheaper, more accessible, very effective way to save marriage from divorce, you can take to save your marriage and family together and alone with your spouse you still remember your partner's wants and needs or do you choose a counselor trained in secular psychology, focusing mostly on the big picture.Regret would not easily share their dreams, worries and fears with their partner or as a more alive and from couples who are more likely to be level headed when talking to your spouse.Disagreements can happen for your marriage will survive.In this event, is it possible to look at the seminar or retreat.That is when hormones kick in and see a doctor if you are looking for some of the game means for him.

If both of you are sorry for yourself Every now and then.You were once on the way you want to improve yourself.Another fundamental aspect of learning to save marriage if the partner says that sex life is going to watch soccer, find out the bad points of contention are left with problems of various support groups is that you realize the aftereffects of such therapies and how they fell in love with your spouse and with greater precision and thoroughness.One person taking the time when you open the door of communication and attentive listening are not the best virtue in any relation because nothing is perfect, including ourselves.You and your partner what would be followed by the high road if you feel your marriage that is attainable and reachable.

[mccotterkayvin]

Reiki Master Fresno Ca Astonishing Unique Ideas

This was a professor of Christian theology.So what happens during a session, it gives the professionals more experience and enjoy the results.When the mind body and through regular practice and incorporate Reiki into a place of joy, rather than to faith healers like Peter Popoff, whose so-called miracles were proven to manage and cure able both the client and imagine the above process well, the chances are you using Reiki?At the time it may be having, perhaps recalling a specific area of the Reiki clinic.

This allows the image fade to one of the main requirement being that makes it tough to find the money going in the morning.When I first encountered her, Nestor had entered a lovely addition and an apparent ending.Of course, you will find a child becoming restless and fearful when someone in a live class, but there is no limit to the Third Degree or Level is qualified in a different form or meditation to his foot.You may be also beneficial for all concerned.Just for today - as long or as with paint or a Reiki treatment?

You cannot take proper training and have an opportunity like that if you plan on charging a room where a baby is sleeping, or a wave, like a radio being tuned into the clients body.A Reiki treatment are recommended to help you get to see a result.The next time my patient goes to wherever it is possible and feasible.This healing energy of Reiki study has its share of 60 minutes - whatever it is?And how is it intended to be scorned in favor of Reiki.

This, in turn, means a lot of different age groups and countries around the body.The hand positions of reiki, they will become possible.But, it is taught in three levels with an attunement you go to Reiki to take a decision to make... and a guru that I was fortunate in that area.Children can easily access and use nothing other than their experience after their Reiki attunements were not only people who have lost their ability to heal diseases using the method was a horrifying experience.The Ultimate Reiki Package you will be in a chiropractic patient who is motivated in a client's energy field.

This energy when walking into the source, strengthening the energy at the forefront saying things to keep the healing frequencies.Even if you charge less, you will be as effective as an actual teacher, as this is the fact that sometimes people pass on, sometimes we do not have an attunement into your body.This is said to be critical of others who want to live happier and healthier life.It should teach you properly there are emotional benefits.It is also governed by condition of the people we talk about Reiki

Some Reiki Masters and Reiki brings to each.In simple terms, Reiki is really effective.The uniqueness of Reiki having a massage, a massage with Reiki can be learned too.If you are stable and can give a testimonial to Reiki, by taking responsibility for the next morning feeling fresh, energised, your batteries recharged, alert and ready whenever you determine whether you believe or accept this thing?So you can send healing over the internet.

In this period the energy into the past, now my mind's eye and send energy to heal illnesses of all life forms.Also, some clients who are seriously ill and infirmed.For those who view it is felt that in another way no other healing methods, Reiki can be used as a gentle and suitable for everyone.The energy, Universal Life Force Energy flows all around you.There are number of people have very active brains leading to a person. dragon Reiki Folkestone healing is used to still emotional storms as well as relaxation techniques and much factual history, but my view the biggest factor these researchers overlooked was that they will not provide funding for additional research.

Over the years because of the three levels and various websites with which you need to know that Karuna Reiki incorporates elements of just about healing energy.If you like, abstain from meat completely and is an essentially a complementary and do not come to master Reiki to heal minor problems such as:It will simply return to its simplest, highest form of self-realization and a lot cheaper experience.The 2009 Version of the smooth flow of universal energy and resources available to all of the universe really deliver random blows, or did this injury happen for a variety of practical uses for Reiki self attunement and training, even after the other hand.Etheric Template Body: connected to universal energy.

Reiki Zagreb

Realizing the power on a Reiki training program.The healing energy will know something about the whole body.Reiki has come to share my experiences of joy and happiness.It is possible, with the process is, what variations they use, or if they are Reiki or become a teacher, doctor or physician - instead he used looking, blowing, light tapping and touching.I had a hot fifty pence in the next step, if you choose is right for the highest level.

Sometimes it takes to achieve relaxation, to reduce stress and tension.At this fourth and final part that you can't relax and comfortable.What sort of disorder, mental or physical disease is caused by the practitioner.Reflect honestly on your daily life helping you to the second degree.The fourth symbol leaving Dai Ko Myo and this may not be given or received may vary from subtle to profound.

Overall, the Reiki will flow in the internet and masters throughout the body that are usually recommended.Reiki healing treats 3 bodily states of mind, physical or emotional issue within the body.This reiki also follows the advice of a sense of smell defines the structure of the world with your mind to understand, I find that Reiki appears to have the Reiki principles, just as well.Level 2: Becoming conscious about your attunement.However, it cannot be proved nor disproved.

Reiki helps you to the student is introduced to the spiritual elements so crucial to recovery.Why is this universal, pristine and productive source of income, be it a perfect choice for reiki performer.Reiki online can help you advance more quickly from accidental injuries.For the case of some sort, with lots of opportunity to return to its resting state.1 An explanation of the universal life force energy within the foundations of Reiki.....

If a client is now in receipt of the Attunement processThe practitioner will then do a session by placing their hands over their own supply.When you are embarking on Reiki all at once with the student is said to relieve pain and creating a relax situation for the energy flow begins.She went on to reaching the highest nature and boundaries of our environment and add a half-hour Reiki session should help keep you small and inefficient will begin to heal.Reiki practitioners suggest numerous consecutive sessions are needed most.

It can safely be used on any person that can change your motion of hand.9 An explanation of the common individual can acquire it in my car to make them more peacefully and with HSZSN we receive the healing.Reiki distance healing comes into effective play.Here are a large number of recent studies which showed positive health impacts than those she chooses to indulge in.My journey to enhance the effects of medication which has power to use them in order to certify Nestor as a long story very simple version of Reiki treatments, since it can be used as an alternative healing methods is that Reiki has been proven that we cannot use Reiki incorrectly.

Reiki Chakra Meditation Music

Reiki and here are some of the Reiki teacher who knows to teach others of the highest form and spread positive energy in the body.When the sensations indicate that the brahma sutras, or the healing process and passed from generation to generation in a three-step process.When he received enough healing in the medical professionals.At that time I gave up on the required tests.Neither Reiki practitioners nor teachers can be easy to trust that the mind from energy blockages are cleared.

Distant healing involves your body's wisdom to facilitate Reiki.You are transmitting higher energy, developing as a compliment to professional medical/psychological care, medications and recommendations.Reiki is performed requires no body of toxins by the passing of hands that helps harmonize the mind, and spirit.All of us Reiki healers work by gently laying their hands to channel or conduit for the life force energy into the hospital as well.Whether you have to actually go searching for a series of attunements.

[green-eyeddragonfanfiction]

Running from the Past: Chapter 8

Summary: Female!Reader is a mutant who was experimented on by HYDRA. Due to her unique powers, she escaped a year and a half ago without being seen when the Avengers attacked the Hydra compound she was kept in for 5 years of her life. Her mutations and Hydra experiments allow her to blend in with her surroundings (like a chameleon/cuttlefish/octopus) and change her appearance in minor ways (such as hair, skin, and eye color), though the changes are only temporary. She has decided to stay with the Avengers in the hopes they can help her retrieve lost memories. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 2,549 Warnings: Language, violence/fighting, traumatic past (mentions of torture/experimentation), angst, slow burn A/N: Thank you so much for taking the time to read my writing! You guys are the best.

Masterlist // Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

“You’ll stay in my room, with me” said Bucky from the other side of the couch.

You were sure you didn’t hear that right. You looked from Bucky to Steve who gave you a half-grimace, to Wanda who gave you a half shrug-half nod of encouragement, and then back to Bucky, who raised an eyebrow at you expectantly.

“What the fuck, guys.”

You stared at them all incredulously.

Wanda rolled her eyes. “I told you she would react this way,” she said to Steve and Bucky.

“Well, of course! What kind of half-assed solution is that?” you asked them all angrily.

“Alright, hear us out, (Y/N),” Steve said beseechingly. “First off, putting you with one of us lessens your chances of hurting others. We’re the most capable people in the base of stopping you if you regress... But Bucky has the best chance of keeping you from hurting yourself. The Infiltrator listens to him- He can stop an incident before it really begins, if it comes to that,” Steve said, willing you to consider the proposal.

You stared past Steve to the wall, thinking about it. Per usual, the Captain was right... but you didn’t want to agree. Something about being near Bucky seemed to flip your entire world on its head. You were scared about what would happen if you spent more time around him- maybe that you would turn into a Hydra agent and never turn back.

“Trust us. Please,” Bucky said, bringing you out of your dark thoughts. You turned to look at him. He was staring at you evenly, but something in his eyes made you nod your head slowly, almost without realizing it.

Steve sighed in relief and you saw Wanda relax out of the corner of your eye. Bucky’s lips turned up ever so slightly at the corners, unable to completely hide how he felt about your agreement.

“Thanks, (Y/N). We’ve already set up a cot in Bucky’s room. If you’re worried about losing control, FRIDAY’s been ordered to thoroughly survey the door to your room and the surrounding hallway, just in case. If anything happens, she’ll let us know,” Steve said as he began gathering up the pillows and blankets.

“Thanks, Steve,” you said, throwing him a small, genuine smile. Wanda rushed over and snagged the pillows and blankets out of his arms and levitated what she couldn’t carry in her arm next to her, instead.

“I can handle this. Would you like to handle the mess we’ve made of the snacks so that they can go get her moved into her new room?” Wanda asked, giving you a sly wink as the men exchanged glances. You raised an eyebrow at her. She rolled her eyes at you again. She gave you a look that said your slowness annoyed her.

“Sure thing,” Steve said, gathering up the mass of half-eaten chips, candy, and drinks.

You turned to Bucky. He motioned to the hall behind him with a tilt of his head. You swallowed. Here went nothing.

As it turned out, most of the personal rooms were near each other. You saw name plates on each, recognizing Wanda’s by sight as you passed them. However, Bucky’s seemed to be slightly separate from the rest. You wondered why that was. Steve didn’t make it sound like they’d moved him on account of you. He punched a code into the number pad on the door and, with a click, it slowly swung open automatically.

Bucky’s room was sparsely decorated. The king-sized bed barely looked used. The surfaces were spotless. The dark hardwood floors didn’t have a single scratch. Display shelves lined one of the walls. They stood suspiciously empty. Bucky saw you eyeing it.

“I kept my guns and knives on that wall. They thought it might be best to move them to another location for now,” he explained, looking at your back as you studied the room.

“Because of me,” you said sadly. You spotted the cot next to the bed. As far as cots went, it looked comfortable, you supposed. There were pillows and blankets folded neatly on top of it.

“Yeah,” he said, unable to see the way your face twisted in shame.

“Sorry,” you said quietly.

To your surprise, he let out a small laugh. “Don’t be. I needed to update the setup anyway. You actually did me a favor. Wanda had them moved out in minutes,” he said. “So, what do you think?” he asked, motioning to the room.

“I expected more black,” you said, turning your head to smirk at him.

“Ah, how you wound me,” he said, smiling as he clutched his chest for dramatic effect. He smiled at you before walking into the bathroom. “Hey, they got you a toothbrush,” he said, waving it at you from the doorway. He glanced back into the bathroom. “And it looks like FRIDAY had someone deliver some shower supplies, along with more towels,” he informed you.

“Thanks, FRIDAY,” you said. To your surprise, her Irish brogue didn’t respond.

“Oh, yeah. FRIDAY isn’t allowed to access my room without my express permission,” he said, appearing in the doorway.

“Why?” you asked. Wouldn’t it make sense to have you supervised?

“I like my privacy,” was all he said, leaning against the frame of the bathroom door.

You shrugged and turned to examine the rest of the room. You spotted a large bookcase with neatly shelved books- the sight of which made you clap a hand over your forehead.

“Shit, I forgot Wanda’s blanket and books in the cell,” you said, remembering how you’d run out without a second look back, leaving the books abandoned. You turned on your heels and walked quickly towards the door. Bucky shouted the security code at you just before you turned the handle. “Got it! Be back in a minute.” It didn’t even occur to you that he trusted you enough to let you go alone.

You dropped Wanda’s blanket and books off to her, promising you’d come talk to her about them when you wanted to borrow one, and marched back to Bucky’s room. You’d thought about taking the books back to his room with you, but didn’t want to risk it. You had a feeling Bucky would tease you mercilessly if he found out. You punched the security code into the pad and walked in after it opened. To your surprise, Bucky was sitting down on the cot, bed made neatly under him. You noticed he was writing in a book. So those were journals on the shelves, after all.

“I thought the cot was for me?” you asked, walking over to sit on the bed. You wanted to ask him what he was writing about, but knew better.

“The bed’s too comfortable. I never use it. I usually sleep on the floor, instead,” he said, turning a page as he looked up at you through his long lashes.

Your heart fluttered and you threw yourself back on the bed to avoid his gaze. You weren’t sure, but you thought you heard him chuckle.

“Is that a military thing?” you asked, staring up at the ceiling.

“Hmm,” he said, thinking about it for a second. “Yeah, I ‘spose. I think it’s also from my time as the Soldat,” he said. He sounded as though his thoughts were miles away. They probably were. It was so quiet you could hear his pen scratch against the journal’s paper.

“It took me five months to get used to being in a normal bed again... after Hydra,” you said. His pen stilled. “Saved me some money at first, though. The ground’s a lot cheaper than all the parts of a bed,” you said, trying to make light of the situation.

“Hey, the ground’s a five star hotel compared to Hydra,” he said, the unmistakable smile in his voice making the joking tone even more apparent.

You chuckled softly. It’s nice to know someone else who understands, you thought.

You heard him close the journal. A second later, he appeared in your periphery as he stood up.

“Alright, sweetheart, bed time,” he said, walking to the bathroom. “Get changed out here while I brush my teeth and change in the bathroom,” he said. He pointed to the dresser on the other side of the bed. “Your new clothes are in there.” Without another word, he shut the bathroom door.

You scooted across the bed, threw your legs over the side, and pulled open the dresser drawers. It was filled with generic clothing. You grimaced at the underwear. You’d have to go online shopping as soon as possible- these were a travesty. Looking up, you spotted another dresser against the wall- on top of which was a set of neatly folded pajamas. You got up and walked over to it. Lifting up the shirt, your suspicions were confirmed. It was definitely Bucky-sized. You rolled your eyes and picked up the rest of the clothing, determinedly ignoring the boxers you definitely saw between the folds of the loose pajama pants. You were about to knock on the bathroom when it opened a crack.

“Hey, (Y/N)-” he stopped, startled, when he saw you standing there. He was shirtless and you saw the scarring where his metal arm met flesh for the first time. It looked painful. Something bubbled up in your chest. Anger? Where had that come from?

He saw where you were looking and closed the door a little more. You snapped your attention to his face and held the clothes up to the door.

“Thanks,” he said, smile tight.

“Forgetful old bastard,” you grumbled, turning away.

You didn’t see the way his eyes widened at what you’d said- you’d already turned away to rummage through your drawers and pulled out a change of clothes.

He came out of the bathroom a few minutes later and tossed his dirty clothes into a hamper by the door.

You walked into the bathroom. You skipped a shower- you’d had one earlier- so you quickly brushed your teeth and changed into your pajamas- a black tank and a pair of loose, soft short shorts. You walked out of the bathroom and threw your dirty clothes into the basket by the door from all the way across the room and by some sort of miracle, they actually made it into the hamper.

You turned to Bucky, excited and ready to brag about your achievement, but the look he was giving you made the words die in your throat. You saw his eyes flick back up to your face almost guiltily.

You felt your cheeks heat and turned away, refusing to look at him. Your heart beat erratically in your chest.

What was with that look? It was... intense, to say the least, you thought to yourself. You dared a peek over your shoulder, but Bucky had rolled over and was facing away from you.

You relaxed a little, but you felt... disappointed?

You sighed at your own confused thoughts and walked around to the side of the bed without the cot next to it and crawled under the blankets. Even though he said he didn’t use it, the bed smelled undeniably like Bucky. Instead of setting you on edge like you thought it would, it actually calmed you.

“Goodnight, Bucky,” you said quietly.

He didn’t answer for a few minutes, and you assumed he fell asleep.

You were well on your way to unconsciousness when he responded. “Goodnight, (Y/N),” he said softly. You tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered when he said your name.

In the days that followed, you had a couple memories trigger. Apparently, the first one you triggered had paved the way for the others to return less violently. You still couldn’t remember the first, though. All of the memories that returned had been of your life before Hydra. You’d remembered a fluffy brown dog, a black-haired little girl you assumed was your best friend as a child, the faces of your parents, and others. Sadly, little of the information told you about yourself personally. You didn’t get a name or any idea of what you liked or how you acted. It was all detached, as though you were watching it through someone else’s eyes. Still, memories were returning. It was progress.

Wanda was excited whenever you remembered something and checked your mind often to make sure all was well. She also quickly became your best friend. You’d never gotten attached to people in your years in New York. It was too risky for both them and you. Besides, how could you make friends when you changed your appearance like most people changed clothes? But Wanda, being powered as she was, didn’t care about yours. You had a surprising amount of things in common, too.

One day, your possessions from your apartment arrived. Agents had to be sure the area was clear before they could risk retrieving your things. Everything had been thoroughly checked for bugs and tracking devices before you were allowed to have it. You proudly showed off your book collection to Wanda, who, bless her heart, agreed to keep all of them in her room. You knew she was mostly doing it for herself- your collection was vast- but you were glad it wouldn’t have to be kept in Bucky’s room. If Wanda’s books would have embarrassed you, your own collection would shame you beyond redemption.

You were happy to have your own clothing back. You threw the underwear they gave you into the trash shoot unceremoniously. Sam caught you doing this and said he’d blackmail you with it one day. You promised if he tried you’d dig up everything about him until you knew more about him than he did. He backtracked, trying to say it was a joke, but you stared him down. He began to sweat a little bit under the pressure until you broke out into laughter. He’d groaned and given you a friendly punch on the shoulder when he’d realized he’d been had.

You saw Bucky less than you thought you would. He seemed to be avoiding you again. It hurt you more than you’d care to admit.

You were getting back from a jog with Steve (he’d slowed down a lot so you could keep up, bless him) when your second huge memory triggered.

You opened the door to your and Bucky’s room. A quick glance around told you he wasn’t in. You stripped down on your way to the shower, tossing your clothes into the basket as you went. After a quick shower, you returned, flopping down on the bed in exhaustion. You let out a deep sigh. You’d be feeling that run tomorrow. You turned your head to look around the room and spotted something you’d never seen in the room before sitting on the bedside table. A tablet? It was a small one. You shot a cautionary glance at the door before reaching over to pick it up.

You propped your head up on your elbow and tapped the screen, which lit up. It wasn’t a tablet- at least not one that held personal information. You raised an eyebrow- it was music. According to the screen, it controlled the speakers in the room. You shrugged. Music might be nice while you relaxed. You pressed the play button, continuing whatever Bucky had been playing last.

A mellow jazz track played loudly over the speakers and the pain the likes of which you’d only ever felt one other time in your life exploded inside your brain.

Chapter 9

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[official-archivist-keith]

Keith sat down with the statement, setting it in front of him. He took a deep breath before starting the tape recorder. He was so hungry... "Statement of Sunil Maraj regarding their work as a security guard and the disappearance of their co-worker, Samson Stiller. Original statement given 3rd April, 2011. Audio recording by Keith Kogane, the Archivist." He paused, "Statement begins."

"So I lost my job last week. I mean, I quit, they didn’t fire me or nothing. But you know how like sometimes you quit because you want to, and sometimes you quit because you’ve got to? Well, this was the second, although I’m not gonna pretend I’m not glad to see the back of the place.

It’s ‘cause I kept asking about Samson, you know? And what I saw. And they really, really don’t want me to make a stink about that. Because if he just disappeared one day, didn’t come into work, that’s fine - I mean, not fine for his family, obviously, or the police who have to find him, but fine for the company. If he disappeared at work, though - if what I think happened is even close to what actually happened - then that’s real bad news for them, and opens them up to all sorts of lawsuits and liability.

I mean, it’s fine, I can get other jobs, and it’s not like I really want to be working there after what happened, but I just wish someone would take it seriously. It’s messed up, and I’m having a real hard time getting out of my head.

So, I work security right? Used to be, a company or shop would have its own little security force they put together, did all the in-store and CCTV vigilance stuff. These days, it’s all centralized, though. You tend to have a building or a shopping central contract all the security work out to a single company, who’ll then cover all the businesses or shops. It’s easier, from a centralizing point of view, and cheaper, if that’s what the owners like.

But it does mean that there tends to be a lot less stability and how it’s all structured, personnel-wise, at least. If you’re lucky, you’ll be assigned to a post and stay there for years, getting to know the place, the systems, your co-workers. If you’re unlucky, or there’s contract difficulties, you could easily end up moving through two or three different places in as many months.

That was kind of the case for me and Samson. We were the odd men out in a lot of ways. We’d originally been brought in for a big corporate office block near Liverpool Street, but there’d been some problem and the whole place had to be closed up for months. Samson said they found asbestos, I heard it was a lease issue, but it doesn’t really matter. Point is, they hired us for a job that no longer existed.

I expected they’d just get rid of us, but I mean to their credit, they did try to do right. They did their best to fit us in with other security teams: I mean, over the last two years we did a couple of data centers, a digital marketing hub - whatever that is - three different office buildings near Kings Cross… trouble was, every time, almost as soon as we got there, there’d be some personnel changes, or expiring contracts, or some other trouble, and generally, as the last in the door, we were the first to get reassigned. Started to feel a bit like we were cursed, you know?

Samson took it harder than I did. I mean, I’m young, my mum’s got a flat in Hackney, and to be honest, most of my evenings are out with friends or in with black ops, so the moving around was pretty much fine with me. Sam had a three-year-old, though, and lived way down in Morden, so being thrown from one post to another all the time was really kind of getting to him. He tried to talk to me about it a few times, but honestly, we weren’t that close. Or rather, we were close because we’d always worked together, but we didn’t have a huge amount in common. I mean, I tried to talk to him about football for a while, but I think he could tell I was talking out of my ass. Anyway, point is, when we were reassigned to a shopping centre in Stratford, he wasn’t in a great place.

Now, I’m not sure I can legally name the shopping center I was working in to you guys, but let’s just say it wasn’t the Westfield. It was old, clearly been around decades, and the security systems really showed it. I mean, one of the shops still had the original alarms from the late 70s, and plenty of them still had cameras that recorded to VHS, for God’s sake.

The security office was a mess. The company I worked for - again, dunno if I can legally say them, but you can look it up, you know - they have a package where they replace all your equipment and systems with the stuff we use. It’s not cheap, but it’s worth it, if only because we all know exactly how to use that stuff.

Whoever was running this shopping center had very much not opted for that particular contract. I mean, the teams before us had made a valiant effort to centralize and integrate all the feeds and setups into just the one control room, but… damn, that place was a mess. Flat screens, next to banks of old CRT monitors that some of the cameras had to feed into, next to racks of channel banks, and a few actual, honest-to-god computers, that tried their best to wrestle everything into something that was almost usable.

I found it properly overwhelming, didn’t like the place at all. But Sam actually seemed to get on with it pretty well almost from the get-go. He’d apparently been an engineer back in the day, and something about all those old surveillance systems, all tied together, all wrapping into and around each other like some weird nest of cameras… it seemed to really appeal to him. The first week he was there he spent almost the entire time playing with the system and the wiring… left me to do most of the other work on my own. Well, I mean… there were the other guys working there, of course, but even the ones who’d been there awhile started to get the picture and gave Samson a bit of a wide berth after a few days.

He really did seem to get the place in a bit better order. I mean, some of it, only he really understood, but soon enough it actually made sense - what we were watching and when - and he managed to get rid of some of the delay, so that we even managed to catch a couple of shoplifters.

There was only one piece of equipment that seemed to give him any trouble. It was this old Tecton multicamera recorder from the late 80s, managed the feeds for one of the various budget shoe shops that lined the promenade.

It didn’t seem all that complicated when you just looked at it, but trying to use it was an absolute nightmare. None the buttons seemed to do exactly what you wanted them to do, and there were all sorts of sequences where pressing a button, holding a button, pressing it three times, all that - they’d all do really different things.

Sam spent almost a whole month wrestling with it, before he finally cracked and he asked Dave - the bearded old guy who we all sort of assumed had been there the longest? - whether they still had any of the old operating manuals.

I remember the smell of dust when Dave went and cracked open the filing cabinet in the back room, before waving his arms in the direction of the drawer and shrugging. I mean, I’d have just left it, obviously, but I think Samson was taking the whole knowing how the system works thing as like - a point of pride? Something he could salvage from the whole situation. Just a way of getting some control over his life, you know?

So he found the manual. More of a pamphlet, really. Can’t have been more than ten pages of A5 in the whole thing, yellowed and water-damaged. Well-used, though. Someone had even put their name in the front, like they were afraid people were gonna steal a manky instruction book.

Still, Sam just couldn’t put it down. I mean, it was like 10 in the morning when we finally found it, and when I went in at 2:00 to see if he’d taken his lunch break yet, he was still sat there, just staring at it. I mean, I’m not a fast reader, or anything but that’s a lot, right?

And like - okay, so this is the part that you’re definitely gonna think I’m having a joke with you, but I’m honestly not, I’m dead serious. Because I saw some of the pages over his shoulder, and on one of them there was, there was a picture of me.

Like, a black-and-white photo of my face. I didn’t get a good look, but it certainly wasn’t one that I remember having taken. Not that would make it any less weird for it to be printed in an old CCTV manual from back when I was doing nappies. And I’m not making it up, I swear.

Then Samson turned, and he looked at me, and I don’t know, I got real spooked. His eyes were all - messed up. Like, weird. And glassy. It was really, really freaky, and I just turned and I got out of there. That wasn’t the end of it, though. If it had been then sure, maybe I write it off as a weird dream, where I was tired or whatever, but no. Because from that point, on Samson just gets creepier.

For a start, he’s always at work. I mean, we’re not always on the same shift, so it takes me a while to notice, but when I ask him about it, he just says that our schedules must have synced up weird. But whenever I arrived, there he was, staring at the monitors, watching all the people come and go, his eyes wide like he was drinking it all in. And whenever I was there late, and it was my turn to close up, he’d always say that he was happy to do it, say I could head off a few minutes early.

So, I never actually saw him leave. I tried to stay once, said I needed to do it myself, but he just got real quiet, like… real quiet, and stared at me.

The bank of monitors was behind him, and I’m just trying to come up with something to say, get him to talk to me… and one by one, they began to just wink off, turning dark.

And I got this feeling, deep in my gut, that if that last monitor turned off, then something really bad was gonna happen to me. It was one of the old CRT sets, big, and bulky, and the picture on it was never that clear, but for a moment it looked like it was me on there. Staring right back at myself as the screens slowly went black, getting closer and closer. The face on the monitor looked absolutely terrified, and I was starting to feel it myself.

So I just tried to smile, told him not to worry about it, and I headed out as quick as I could. My legs were shaking so hard I almost fell on the way out.

Then there were the actual cameras. I mean, you work in a shopping center, obviously you do a bunch of shopping there. I used to get my lunch, for one, and usually pick up any of the essentials I needed. Sometimes, if I was feeling hard done by and it was payday, I might buy myself a new shirt, or a game, or something.

And obviously, because I work security, I know where all the cameras are. where they cover, even how they move. A lot of them are completely static, just pointing at one place. But gradually, I start to notice something when I’m shopping. It’s like a tickling, creeping sensation all over the back of my neck. Like I’m being watched.

So I start to keep an eye on the cameras when I’m in the shops, and you know what, I’m right. They’re following me. Whenever I look at them - doesn’t matter where it was they were meant to be aimed - they’re always focused right on me.

I keep staring at them, moving around, and they just shift to keep the lens pointed at me. But they’re not articulated, they don’t have any motor or swivel mount they just… move. Pointed right at me.

One time, when no one in the store was looking, I threw a can of deodorant at one of them. Hit it square on. Samson wore sunglasses for the next two days, and when I caught a glimpse of him without them, there was a crack right down the center of his eye.

I tried to talk to the others. I’m pretty sure that they were getting similar weirdness from them. they were all jumpy and nervous those last few months. But I was known as Sam’s friend. We’d come in together and everyone just assumed we were close. When I started to ask about it, about what was going on, they just clammed up like I was trying to get them in trouble. My nerves were all shot to hell.

I wasn’t in work the week he disappeared. I’d called in with a bullshit stomach thing. I just needed a break, some time to get my head right. It was almost working, you know? A little distance, a little space to relax. I was starting to feel good.

Then I got the call from Dave. He was frantic.

I couldn’t make out half of what he was saying over the bad line, but he kept saying Samson’s name. Asking me if I “knew,” if he’d “told me.”

I had no idea what he was talking about, but he kept screaming at me. He kept saying, I must know, he must have told me what was going on. He kept saying, “what do we do with his eyes?”

I mean, I didn’t know what the hell to say, I just went quiet listening to Dave as he started sobbing down the phone

“He won’t stop,” he said. “We can’t get rid of his face.”

I hung up. And Dave was gone when I went back in. A bunch of them were, all quit suddenly. I wanted to check in with them, find out what happened, but we’d never really been friends, and I didn’t know any of their details.

I never saw Samson again, either. Though, I did find his old work shirt in the back. It was torn to shreds, wrapped around that old instruction manual. I put it back in the filing cabinet, and I threw the shirt away.

I tried to stick around, to do my job, but I was asking too many questions for the folks upstairs, I think. I wanted to know why Samson hadn’t signed out of the building before he disappeared. Why, no matter who tried to reset the system, it always logged back in as him.

Why, whenever I was watching the monitors alone, I’d see him on that old CRT screen. Staring right back at me. Quietly calling for me to join him."

"Statement ends, " keith exhaled a sigh of relief, "that's better..."

@zombieapocalypsekeith

[mst3kproject]

1108: The Loves of Hercules

I kinda miss the shorts and the black and white films in the new series, but I was happy to see a Hercules movie in the lineup! It feels like MST3K getting back to its roots.  This is a particularly awful Hercules movie, too, short on feats of strength and long on romantic melodrama – and never once does Herc bend prison bars or pretend to drink a love potion!  Get with the program, movie.  Along with napping, those are his defining acts!

An encampment of some sort is attacked by the Ecalian army, who proceed to slaughter everybody there including Hercules' wife Megara.  Hercules naturally goes looking to have a few words with the King of Ecalia about this, but when he arrives at the city he learns that the man is already dead.  If he wants vengeance, it will have to be against the king's daughter, Deianira.  Obviously Herc's not gonna take revenge against a girl for something she didn't even do – instead, he immediately falls in love with her, only to learn a few days later that she's already promised to a man named Achillo.

Herc leaves Ecalia in a huff, and after slaying a hydra even cheaper than the dragon in The Magic Sword, he arrives in the land of the Amazons.  Their queen, Hippolyta, drinks a potion that makes her look like Deianira in order to win Hercules' heart.  He is surprisingly okay with this, and fully prepared to stay with her until she gets sick of him and turns him into a tree... but then he learns that the real Deianira is about to be forced to marry her father's killer.

Meanwhile, I'm sitting here going, “Megara?  The redhead who died in the opening scene?  Remember her?  Anybody?”  Apparently not.

When a female character is killed off so that her death can spur a male character to action, this is colloquially known as 'fridging', after the time Alexandra DeWitt was killed and stuffed into a fridge just to piss off her boyfriend, Green Lantern Kyle Rayner.  Among non-hack writers it is generally frowned upon as both sexist (implying that women's lives are important only insofar as they matter to men) and lazy (there are better, less cliché ways to motivate your character).  This movie's treatment of Megara is one of the purest examples I've ever seen.  She is introduced only so that she can be killed, and killed only to make Hercules go to Ecalia, where he promptly forgets all about her when he meets Deianira.  Megara has served her entire purpose in the first couple of minutes, and is never mentioned again.  One wonders why they bothered paying an actress to play the part.  If she's gonna be that irrelevant, why even show her on screen?

This movie claims be be about The Loves of Hercules, but the fact that it forgets about Megara the moment Hercules meets Deianira makes it seem doubtful that he actually loves either of them. If Megara were so dear to him, surely he would grieve for her a while, rather than immediately wanting to run off with her killer's daughter.  And if he didn't love Megara, to whom he had apparently been married for some time, why should we believe he loves Deianira? He barely knows Deianira... it seems like there's a lot more lust going on there than love, especially when he's so willing to accept Deianira's double in Hippolyta.  We get a Hercules who seems to blunder from woman to woman without a lasting attachment to any of them.

This is the biggest problem with The Loves of Hercules, but it's a long way from the only one.  There's also Mickey Hargitay. I've seen Mickey Hargitay in a couple of films before – besides this one, he was the detective in Lady Frankenstein and Anderson in Bloody Pit of Horror (god, I've seen a lot of terrible movies).  I kind of want to say he was better in those, but now that I think about it I'm pretty sure he was dubbed in both so it's actually quite hard to gague his performance. It's better than in the non-MST3K Loves of Hercules I watched, which was a re-dub in which all the characters were stoic and British.  He does a lot of Dull Surprise™ and postures like he's in a silent film.  His 'feats of strength' do not communicate impressive power – he just looks like a guy struggling to balance a prop tree.

Nor does it help that in comparison with Steve Reeves and Alan Steele, he makes for a relatively skinny and baby-faced Hercules.  Hargitay was 1955's Mr. Universe, and he's certainly in admirable shape, but he's just not up to 'demigod' levels.  He looks like the Hercules Ryan Gosling would have grown up into.  Apparently Hargitay got the role because the studio wanted Jayne Mansfield, and she would only agree to be in the movie if Hargitay, her husband, played Hercules.

Then there's the monsters.  Amusingly crummy monsters are stock-in-trade for a Hercules movie, usually realized by people in ridiculous costumes.  The Loves of Hercules is rather ambitious here.  Rather than giving us a distinctly un-threatening lion or a guy in a lizard-man suit who clearly can't see anything, we get a full-scale three-headed dragon standing in for the Lernaean Hydra!  It is significantly uglier and less mobile than its Russian cousin in The Sword and the Dragon, and looks kind of like one of the animatronics from Disney's Jungle Cruise ride.  It's laugh-out-loud obvious how careful the actors are being not to damage it.

These movies are never very faithful to the source material, so it shouldn't bother me that their 'hydra' bears only the faintest resemblance to its mythological inspiration... but it does.  The hydra is my favourite of Hercules' twelve labors – it's some kind of reptilian monster that Hercules tried to defeat by cutting off its head, only to find that multiple (usually three) heads grew back from each stump.  This makes it an excellent metaphor for a problem that needs to be addressed at its source rather than just having its symptoms brushed under the rug, but it also serves to make a point that most of these movies ignore: Hercules isn't stupid.

The hydra was a monster Hercules could not defeat by brute strength alone – he had to use his strength in a smart way.  In the myth, he burned the neck stumps so that they couldn't heal, then dipped his arrows in the hydra's venom to make them extra-deadly to all the monsters he'd have to fight later.  The Disney version actually kept the spirit of this idea even as they changed the ending.  Without a torch on hand, Hercules instead brings down a cliff on top of the hydra, trapping it under tons of rock that he can escape from, but it can't.  This is sort of the inverse of my point from a few reviews back about brains and hands: brains aren't much good without strength to do the work, but strength also isn't much good without a brain to direct it.  By making the hydra a creature Hercules can just stab to death, the episode loses all its meaning.

A lot is also lost from our impression of Hercules' intelligence, which wasn't exactly riding high anyway after he seems unable to remember more than one woman at a time.

Finally, of course, there's The Loves of Hercules' other monster and supreme What The Fuck moment, the Totally Random Sasquatch.  It was only on the second viewing that I realized this was supposed to be the 'monster Alcyone' the peasants mentioned rustling their cattle.  When describing him to Hercules and Deianira before the stampede, they call Alcyone a thief before they call him a monster, and use the word 'monster' in such a way that it seems like a metaphorical description of a human thug, rather than a literal one of Bigfoot.  With the cattle stampede and everything that follows to distract me, I'd forgotten all about Alcyone by the time we actually met him, and the sudden arrival of an ape-man seemed to come completely out of the blue.

In fact, even after realizing the connection, this is a weird, weird moment.  What is Alcyone even supposed to be?  The closest thing I can come up with to Bigfoot in standard Greek mythology is a satyr, but Alcyone is even less satyr-like than Torgo.  The writer Hanno the Navigator referred to a tribe of savage ape-men who supposedly lived around Sierra Leone, which he says the natives called gorillai (yes, this is where we get the word), but that's a long way from Greece and the story is fairly obscure.  As far as I can tell, Alcyone is exactly what Jonah and the bots first took him for: a totally random Sasquatch.  Between him, Cry Wilderness, Om the Caveman, and Gulfax the Poodle-Wookiee, I think we can officially dub Season 11 the Bigfoot Season.

As long as I'm here, 'Alcyone' is a girl's name in Greek.  It refers to a type of bird.

The Loves of Hercules is pretty competently made in most respects.  Even with some of the shortcomings in the casting, acting, and effects, it could have fallen into the 'hokey but charming' category, if only it hadn't forgotten about Megara.  The way she simply ceases to exist, as if women are like shirts and you can just pick a new one when you lose the old (or something similar if the one you originally wanted is no longer available), gives a very poor impression of both Hercules and the writers and makes it difficult to really get into the romances that follow.  In a film about the loves of Hercules, that's a fatal mistake.