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anon-e-miss · 6 years

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Guarded by Shadows 7

As uneasy as the prospect of moving made Prowl, it distressed him less than the prospect of staying, wondering if Crosscut had managed to weasel his address from someone. Though he had only agreed to few the habsuite, the school and the sparkling centre, the Praxian knew it was all a just a formality. He needed his creations to be safe, for the love of Primus, he wanted and needed to feel safe. It was logical to move his residence to within the walls and guarded gates of the base. The sacrifice of his privacy was inevitable, and regrettable. Optimus Prime had expressed confidence that he could weather any criticism relating to Prowl’s enlistment, that was likely even true, but the Praxian was not confident that he could weather it himself. There would be many voices calling for Prowl to defer his service until his youngest creation was school aged, they would admonish him for his selfishness.

“Did ya need me to take on of the littles?” Jazz asked. It was all moving so quickly. The suite in question was being renovated, but the renovations were nearly complete, and the Polihexian had suggested they come and see if it would suite their family. Optimus Prime had suggested meeting with the school, and sparkling centre. His reasoning was one Prowl could not dismiss, the sparklings needed their lives to normalize again. Truthfully, the originator could not carry all four of his creations in his alt mode at months, he had depended on transports for stellar-cycles, but the idea of giving one of his creations over to another mech was distressing, even if it was necessary.

“Smokescreen, will you ride with Jazz?” He asked, rather than order his eldest creations. “We have been offered a new habsuite.”

“What do ya say, lil’ mech?” The Polihexian asked.

“Ya, okay!” Smokescreen repled, only briefly hesitant, and he looked up at the saboteur with the beginnings of hero worship.

“Me too!” Camshaft exclaimed. Jazz chuckled and looked to the originator.

“If Jazz does not mind,” Prowl said.

“I don’t mind a bit,” Jazz replied.

This was how Prowl found himself following the Prime, his youngest creations secured in the back of his alt mode, as Jazz followed behind him with the elder two. It was not accidental, he realized. These two mechs, the very Prime, were guarding him. He felt a little foolish, and a little over dramatic, but also safer than he had in orns. They met with no resistance from the Vanguards at the gates, if any mech could come and go unmolested, it was Optimus Prime. Prowl followed his commander well into the base, passed the small shopping district, and headquarters, and into the not so terribly small residential sector. In each direction the orginator looked their were procreators and creations, going about their mega-cycle. They drove passed a large park, and the sight reassured Prowl a little more. Unless he wished to, there would be little need to take his creations beyond the base. He was not the only one to have spotted the park and he felt a little flutter of hope from Skids. His little one wanted to play.

Driving passed the park upset his young creation, but he murmured a promise, they would return after their business was complete. They did not drive much farther, before they came to the end of the road, and the complex of what looked like several habsuite towers. Optimus transformed first, Jazz followed shortly after, gently depositing the sparklings as he finished his transformation sequence. Once he saw his elder creations safe on the sidewalk, Prowl transformed, and with familiar ease, kept hold of his younger creations. Skids magnetized to his back, between his doorwings and peered over his originator’s shoulders as he took in this new place. Bluestreak magnetized to Prowl’s chassis, looking about with equal curiosity.

“I have never come this deep into the base,” Prowl said. He had not realized until now that the base was really a city, within the city-state of Iacon.

“The complex manager is waiting inside to meet with you,” Optimus Prime said. “I hope you don’t mind our company.”

“No, Sir,” the Praxian replied. The temptation to bolt back to his habsuite was very real, and very strong. Based on the base schematics he should have realized before how expansive it was but he had never paid any mind to the residential sector. There were many places to hide, to get lost.

“Well mechlings, did ya wanna hold my servos, or your origin’s?” Jazz asked Camshaft and Smokescreen. “It’s a new place, we wouldn’t want ya gettin’ lost, right?”

Both mechlings reached for Prowl, and he was happy to take their small servos into his. Jazz stood at his right, as as they walked, Camshaft reached and took hold of his servo as well. A mech like the saboteur should have had creations, not a mech like Prowl. Of course he did his best for them, but the Praxian was not naive enough to think his best was not substandard in many ways. He should have been thrilled to have them, thrilled to teach them to speak, to walk, to watch them develop, and to nurture every moment. Instead Prowl often felt overwhelmed, trapped, and he worked in part to take some control back. All the same, he loved them with more intensity than he never would have imagined from his spark before he had carried them.

“Prime Sir,” the manager, a yellow and red Builder said. “Jazz. You must be Prowl. You’ve got a beautiful family. I’m Neutro.”

“Thank you,” Prowl replied. “Good to meet you.”

“When we spoke you said the habsuite was nearly ready,” Prime said.

“I took a look before I came down,” Neutro replied. “It’s just the finishing touches. Damage to the suite wasn’t so bad once we got the floor up. Not to worry, Prowl. The previous tenant just flooded the place. Luckily the struts of the place are as good as ever. We’re redoing the paint before we put in new floors, easier for clean up. It’s safe to visit, so how about we go up?”

“Yes, thank you,” the Praxian said.

The building manager led the way to what to Prowl was a massive elevator. Even with the Prime, there was space. Clearly the complex had been designed with warbuilds in mind. Even a small suite would have more space than the one his family occupied now. They could use more space, some separate space where they could play apart when their tempers flared. All four of his creations were brimming over with curiosity. He had expected them to be anxious at the prospect of relocating, but at least of the moment, they were happy. It gave him the courage to be optimistic. As long as his creations were safe and comfortable, he would find a way to manage. There would be scorn, and judgment but he was already scorned, Prowl had not been popular in Praxus either. When he had taken leave from the Enforcers when Smokescreen’s carrying had advanced, some of his fellow Enforcers had cackled with delight. How did a mech like Prowl end up a broadcarrier?

“Right through here,” Neutro said.

“Up, Camshaft,” Prowl ordered lightly as he knelt. His second eldest wrapped his arm’s around his originator’s neck, as Prowl put his arm under the mechling’s aft, supporting him against his hip.

“We can each take one, if it would help you, Prowl,” Optimus offered. The Praxian almost stepped back from the Prime. He had always been on his own with his creations, always.

“Camshaft?” He asked.

“Up, I want up, up, up!” The golden-faced squealed as he clung his arms loose from his originator’s neck and stretched them out to the Autobot Commander.

“I’ll help wit that,” Jazz said, and he took Camshaft from Prowl, and handed him over to Optimus. The mechling cheered with unabashed delight. Once Camshaft was secure, Jazz crouched beside Smokescreen. Under his originator’s watchful optics, his first emerged climbed onto the Polihexian’s back without ever a nanoklik’s hesitation. Jazz hooked his arms under Smokescreen’s legs, and smiled back over his shoulder. “Ya good, lil’ mech?”

“I’m good!” Smokescreen replied.

Prowl was not, in fact he was absolutely terrified. He was terrified that one or both of the mechs would drop his creations. His peds felt as if they had been bolted to the floor. For a mech that pride reason over emotion, this level of paranoia was very unsettling. Originator protocols ran rampant in his processor, worse than they had since Tyger Pax. With his free servo, Optimus reached down, and clasped Prowl’s shoulder. The pressure steadied the tactician. These mechs were not strangers, they were allies, even friends, they would not drop Camshaft and Smokescreen, especially with the natural magnetic grip both sparklings still possessed. Finally, Prowl felt some of the tension in his frame release, and he nodded his helm. Neutro led them through the door.

Just the great room was bigger than Prowl’s entire habsuite. The construction team was absent, some of their tools were left behind, but set out of the way. Still, he was relieved to be holding, and to have his creations held during the tour. Prowl did not understand how he was expected to afford this. Unless base housing was cheaper than he had appreciated. His current habsuite took up every credit of his housing allowance, but to be fair it was in an expensive building, due to the high level of security. It was smaller than Crosscut’s habsuite, but even without flooring it felt more welcoming than that place had ever been. The tactician had always thought of the habsuite he had lived in for vorns. It had never been a home, never. Every furnishing, ever colour and design had been selected by his former Conjunx Endura, to suite the sometimes business mech’s, sometimes ambassador’s aesthetic. Despite having no part in the upbringing of the mechlings, Crosscut had designed the nursery. Rather than a warm, nurturing space it had been dull and formal. Even in the nursery, he had not been particularly comfortable letting the mechlings really play, and in their habsuite in Iacon, there was just not enough space for them to truly enjoy.

“It is massive,” Prowl murmured, as he absorbed the space.

“It’s one of the larger units,” Neutro confirmed. “Three berthrooms, two washracks. The great room, an open kitchen and dining room. Large enough to fit warframes comfortably enough. It’ll fit your mechlings family perfectly.”

“Prime. Sir, my housing allowance would cover this?” The Praxian asked.

“It would,” Optimus confirmed. “And before you ask, without any special exemptions. Base housing it based on need, and to some degree rank. You have both.”

“’M just a couple floors up,” Jazz said. “’N I wrote the buildin’s encryption, ‘cause I ain’t gonna trust someone else for it.”

They made a strong case. Prowl realized it was foolish to feel so hesitant. He said nothing, instead he walked through the great room, and wandered down the hall. The doors were locked in the open position, and the Praxian had an unobstructed view of both washracks, and finally the berthrooms. All four of his creations could fit well enough in any one of the berthrooms, not nearly so crowded as they were now. If he put the oldest two and the youngest two in separate rooms, they would have really room to spread out, a piece of personal space for each mechling. Instead of what amounted to being little more than a closet worth of space, the master berthroom was large enough not only for a full berth, when he could budget for it, but there was a perfect alcove for a desk and workstation.

“What this?” Skids asked, his back.

“Berthrooms, shyspark,” Prowl replied. “A new home. Would you like it? Space to run without tripping over your brothers?”

“You too?” The early first tier sparkling asked.

“Of course,” the originator promised. “You, Bluestreak, Camshaft, Smokescreen and myself. All together, and only a short distance from that park you saw.”

“Oooh,” Skids said. They had not been to one since the near miss with Crosscut. Prowl had not felt safe enough to step out of the habsuite alone, let alone with all his creations. They had been, not lethargic, but quiet and uncertain, feeding off their originator’s anxiety.

“When we have finished here, we will got to that park,” Prowl promised.

Bluestreak babbled excitedly at that declaration, drawing a smile from his originator. Prowl kissed his helm as he returned to the waiting mech. Camshaft was now on the Prime’s shoulders, stretching his arms to the ceiling, though he was metres away from reaching it. He caught the last nanoklik of Jazz swinging Smokescreen around in his armsm and heard the glee in his eldest creation’s voice. Of all of the mechlings, Smokescreen had been most affected by Prowl’s anxious mood. But then he had seen Crosscut, and had far clearer memories of his progenitor than his brothers. While Crosscut had never laid a servo on Smokescreen, the mechling had witnessed part of the interface that had led to Bluestreak’s kindling, and he had heard the angry threats Crosscut had voiced to gain Prowl’s compliance.

The memories of that dark-cycle had largely faded in his creation’s processor, but they remained a clear in Prowl’s as if they had only just occurred. In a physical fight, Prowl had always been capable of overpowering his unwanted Conjunx Endura, and that last interface he had pushed Crosscut away. Even after three carryings, and vorns out of service, the former Enforcer still remained a formidable amount in servo to servo combat. But the last had been on that mech’s side, and when threatened the humiliation and arrest, Prowl had submitted. As he had lain under Crosscut, limp and helpless to stop another kindling, he had seen Smokescreen in the doorway, likely drawn by their argument. And he had tried to stop Crosscut, just long enough to tuck his, their eldest mechling back in his berth, but his Conjunx Endura had not seen fit to, and he had rutted into Prowl even as the originator had called for Smokescreen to return to his berthroom. As a receptive mechanism, his frame had not been his own under Praxian law, it had belonged to the state, to the contributive spark he had been paired with, and the newsparks burned off his spark. Under the laws of the Functionalists, Prowl had held no right to refuse.

Crosscut could not come for him here. He would not be welcomed through the gates, and he would not been nearly skillful enough to crack encryptions written by Autobot Jazz. They could live here, he could live here, free from the spectre of his creations’ progenitor. That settled the decision for Prowl. The lack of privacy would bother him, fear of a scandal still sat heavy in his spark, but all that was bearable when he considered the security, and space this relocation would give his family. Next cycle he would formally withdrawn Smokescreen from his school, and make arrangements to enrol him one on base. After wards, he visit the sparkling centres and select whichever one suited him best for his younger creations to attend. His creations would be exposed to new younglings, make friends. How could he possibly not make this change?

“Thank you, Neutro,” he said as he joined the other mechs. “We will be happy to take the habsuite.”

“We’ll adjust all the counters and fixtures for your frame size as we finish up the renovation,” the manager replied. “You can move in the beginning of next quartex.”

“That is acceptable,” Prowl said. Their move would fall precisely at the end of his proceo cycle, and perhaps that was ideal. If Crosscut could not be deterred, the end of that damnable cycle would likely see him return to his business off world, at least the Praxian could hope.

“’Spose makin’ appointments wit the school ‘n centres gonna be next on yer list,” Jazz said, as they left the suite.

“I will make appointments for next cycle,” the originator said. “After I formally withdraw Smokescreen from his current school. I promised Skids a visit to that park. I do not believe the walk is too far. Prime Sir, thank you for your assistance. I am sure you have business that is better owed your attention.”

“Sine you’ll be on base, after you’ve finished with your tours, come by my office, whatever time,” Optimus ordered, and he lowered Camshaft to the ground. Though he had clearly enjoyed his ride on the Prime’s shoulders the glyph park had the mechling race over to his originator. “There’s a project I’d like to go over with you.”

“Yes, Sir,” Prowl replied.

“Would ya mind company, Prowl?” Jazz asked, still holding Smokescreen. The mechlings still happy to be held. “When they’re tired out, I can help ya get’em home.”

“I would not mind,” the Praxian replied. It was foolishness, but the promise of an escort put him at ease.

“Great!” The saboteur grinned down at Camshaft. “Up or down, Cam?”

“Up!” The mechling declared.

“Y’re the boss,” Jazz said. He knelt and Smokescreen climbed onto his back, and magnetized into place. Once the eldest mechlings was secure, the Polihexian picked up the younger, and neatly climbed to his peds. Even with all his practice Prowl did not think he managed the manoeuvre with nearly as much grace. “We could drive but I thought ya been cooped up for orns, a walk might be good for ya.”

“A walk is welcome,” Prowl replied. “You have gone out of your way to help us. Thank you.”

“Ain’t like I had to do much,” the Polihexian said, as they set off. “Ya do good work Prowl, I’d hate to see ya go, so ‘m glad to do my bit to make sure Iacon’s safe for you ‘n your bitlets.”

#guarded by shadows #prowl is crosscut's babymama #dark praxus #maccadams #ficlet

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cracklets · 7 years

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Of Flesh and Grace and Something In Between

Title: Of Flesh and Grace and Something In Between Chapter: One Author: Mistina of the Cranky Ol’ Fangirls Beta: MY MOM!!! (Seriously, Mistina’s mother proof read this chapter.) Series: Person of Interest and Supernatural Pairing(s): Shaw/Root (Team Shoot), Dean/Castiel (Destiel) Rating: 14a Spoilers: “Person of Interest” through to 4x11 and "Supernatural” through to 8x23 Length: 2,181 words Summary: Shaw can't believe this is her new life. Afterlife? Unlife? Second life? Ugh. Whatever. She has more important things to figure out. Like how the Hell she became the nexus between a bloody civil war up in Heaven and the battle between two God-like A.I. machines down here on Earth?! Author's Note: After watching "Person of Interest” 4x11, I was in denial and I immediately put together a crossover fix it to pacify myself. Later the show revealed that I had nothing to be worried about. Well, not when it comes to Shaw. ^^;; This is that fix it. I hope you enjoy my canon denial. <3

Bang! The world went black. She felt heavy. Sinking down, down, down. The abyss reached for her. Pulling her down, down, down.

Claws lashed out from the darkness below, eager to have her in their razor blade clutches. Each graze they managed to land sent a jolt of pain, climaxing sharp and lightning quick, throughout her entire being. Her descent quickly became a violent free fall. The claws grasping for her rapidly grew in number and tore into her with increasing accuracy. Gash after bruise after break after scrape… The blows became so frequent that they soon blurred into a single perpetual torment. When the claws finally managed to latch onto her, they jerked her down hard into their bloody embrace. Temperature then made itself known. Within the confinement of the abyss was a heat that ignited her pain into a searing agony. There in the dark, shackled and convulsing, she knew the time had come to atone for the oceans of blood shed by her hands. Suddenly, a burst of light banished the claws and the heat and the pain. Sameen Shaw’s eyes snapped open. There was no desperate intake of breath. Her muscles didn’t jerk, or even so much as flinch, into action. There was no atrophy to indicate that she had been shot and then lying prone in a hospital bed or on a cold slab wearing a toe tag. She merely opened her eyes and found herself to be whole, taking a deep deliberate breath and gently flexing her hands in an attempt to verify her current state. Even disoriented, Shaw realized that those were an awful lot of red flags. She quickly took in her surroundings: attired in a flattering black pant suit, hair pulled back in its usual manner, seated in an office of some sort... She then surveyed the room, trying to gather enough intel to determine her current circumstances: stainless steel, neutral colours and glass… She’d had thought she was in a clinic or a lab if it weren’t for her clothes, the cubicles, the carpeted floors and the nearby water cooler. The office decor told her that her host was most likely cold, detached and efficient. She could relate to such traits which meant she knew all too well that having such a host was not a good thing. Speaking of hosts, she was facing a large desk occupied by a stranger. "Hello Sameen," said the man behind the desk, his voice deep and gravelly. She said nothing, shooting the man a suspicious look. Her eyes visually inspected the stranger while her hands took stock of available resources. Searching her pockets, her hands came out empty while her eyes yielded some information, but nothing helpful. The man seemed completely out of place here. The office was sleek but the man seemed… ragged. He had unkempt dark hair and a five o’clock shadow along his jaw with a wrinkled trench coat over a rumpled business suit. The look was topped off with a blue tie hanging crooked around his neck. His look said ‘unpolished average joe ’ but her instincts screamed that the look was just a ruse. “I apologize in advance for my terrible bedside manner. I’m not known for my social skills," said the man, stiff but cordial. “What are you known for?” she asked automatically. To seek and acquire information while giving up little to none in return was a reflex deeply conditioned into her psyche. A reflex which seemed to have paid off in this instance, for she spied a brief flash of sadness in the man’s squinted eyes before they were quickly schooled back into neutrality. “Depends on who you ask,” he replied mysteriously, “but you will know me as the one who raised you from perdition.” “So I did die,” she stated impassively. “Yes, you did.” The man deadpanned, just as impassively. Wearing a lazy smirk, Shaw leaned back in her chair, swaying slightly as it had wheels, and theatrically gave the room a once over. “Not exactly what I expected.” “If you were expecting fire and brimstone, that is where you were headed.” Shaw chuckled wryly at that. “So why am I here, wherever ‘here’ is?” She gestured lazily to indicate the office they were in. “This is Heaven and you’re here because I have a proposition for you.” “Heaven, huh?” she mumbled, eyeing the room dubiously. “What you see is your soul’s interpretation of this foreign and more complex plane of existence,” Castiel explained as though this was matter of fact, which it most certainly wasn’t for Shaw. “Through blinders I’ve put in place so that your soul can exist here without harm.” Shaw raised a brow at the afterthought, but let is pass for the moment. “And you are?” “My name is Castiel. I’m an angel of the Lord.” Her eyes widened slightly, the only hint that her calm demeanor was disturbed. “Reeaaallly?” she drawled. “Yes.” “So what does an angel of the Lord want with a recently deceased sociopathic assassin?” Castiel suddenly broke eye contact, a small frown on his lips, which troubled Shaw as he had not shown any obvious signs of emotion up until this point. “I’m offering you a place amongst our ranks.” “Excuse me?” she sputtered incredulously. Whatever answer she was anticipating, it was definitely not that. “We’ve been fighting a war for the last few years,” he explained calmly, though there was an undertone of sadness. To Shaw it seemed as though he had anticipated her disbelief which indicated he wasn’t completely socially incompetent, or—at least—not as much as he thought. “The death toll is devastating. Our Father had created us as immortals and so we were never given the ability to procreate. Hence every fallen brother and sister is a permanent deduction to our population.” “So, what?” asked Shaw, unable to slot herself into this scenario. "You’re going to hang a halo from a wire tied around my head and glue some wings to my back?” The angel chuckled. “That’s something a friend of mine would say…” A small, fond smile tugged at his lips as he briefly reminisced. “...I wish to imbue your soul with a fraction of my grace. With practice and training, it could blend with your soul and make you something… in between.” “‘Something in between’? The lack of a proper name really inspires confidence,” huffed Shaw sarcastically. “I must admit, this has never been done before…” “Oh, now I’m relieved.” the angel narrowed his eyes angrily at Shaw’s sarcasm but they didn’t deter her. “So I have to choose between being a lab rat in Heaven or burning in Hell?” “No. No. I would never—” said Castiel adamantly before taking a deep calming breath. “I don’t want to force your hand. I have selected you for many reasons but the most important one is that I firmly believe you do not truly deserve to go to Hell. No matter what you decide, you have a place here.” Shaw raised a suspicious brow. "But I only have your word to go on." "True, but I can't think of any way to prove my sincerity without being accused of using"—he did, honest to God, air quotes—"'angel mojo'. Can you?" Shaw gently bit her lip to stifle a chuckle creeping up her throat so she could focus on the matter at hand. “No. Not with angels having the mojo to manipulate my will while I'm none the wiser.” “We are capable of such methods, but I have no desire to use them. I’m an advocate for humanity’s free will.” As he finished this statement his jaw clenched imperceptibly and his eyes squinted. Whether in anger or sadness, she couldn’t tell, but either way there was a story there. “Yeah… Not sure how I feel about that.” She trusted humanity about as much as she trusted the ‘angel’ before her. She leaned back in her chair, running her tongue across her teeth behind sealed lips. “Alright,” she said eventually, “why the Hell not?” She smirked wickedly, amused by her own choice of words. “I don’t understand,” said Castiel, head tilting slightly in confusion. “The way I see it, if I’m still alive and this is some kind of elaborate ploy then everything you’ve suggested is impossible. So anything you do plan to do with me I can more than handle. In short, if I’m alive then there’s no issue here.” she shrugged nonchalantly as she finished her first point, her face turning deadly serious when she moved on to her second. “If I am, in fact, dead, then I am at your mercy. At the mercy of you and whoever and whatever else exists after death. Life after death is completely unknown to me, like it is to all humans. I’m lost in the dark with no tools or information. So if I’m to survive, you are currently my best source of information, my best chance.” “Your logic is impressive,” said Castiel thoughtfully, eyes squinted as if he were studying the soul before him and calculating his next move, “but I must urge you to give my offer more consideration. Whether or not you believe that the offer is genuine, what I’m offering will be quite… permanent. And for the deceased, permanent is potentially a very, very long time.” “Your concern is touching…” teased Shaw. “I don’t understand. You’re a sociopa—” “I am, but I was being sarcastic.” Shaw rolled her eyes, amused. “Look, don’t you worry about my decisions. I don’t have enough intel to work with, so consenting is my best option. However… On the off chance that all this is legit and you stick to your word, I will only consent if you meet one condition.” “A reasonable request, if it’s something I can provide.” He leaned forward slightly, supporting himself with his forearms and interlacing his hands on the desk. “What is your condition?” Shaw clenched her jaw, thrown off by her own impulsive request. Finding out that she had died was straightforward. Learning that this guy in a trench coat was an angel was surprising but easy enough to accept. Being told that this office was Heaven, well, that wasn’t much of a stretch after this 'desk jockey' angel. But this… lingering attachment. That unsettled her. “I want to be able to help my friends when they need it.” Unspoken, though surprisingly understood by the socially awkward angel, was ‘I want to see them again’. “If I were to deny you, I would be a hypocrite.” Finding the new information intriguing, Shaw quirked a brow which had Castiel smiling in a cryptic manner. "I’m sure you’ll find out all about that soon enough." “I’m sure I will,” said Shaw with an amused smirk. “I accept your condition, Sameen Shaw.” Castiel stood suddenly, his face deadly serious. “Do you consent to my proposal?” Shaw raised her right hand and held her left one over the heart, parodying a sworn testimony. “I do.” The angel frowned slightly at her levity, but accepted her response as sincere. He reached down to open a desk drawer and retrieved a simple glass bottle that contained something that was anything but simple: a small spec of golden light surrounded by a faint but alluring aura that seamlessly flowed from colour to colour. “Wow.” breathed Shaw, thinking that, if her current situation wasn’t real, she owed someone a huge ‘thank you’ for whatever seriously awesome drugs she was on. “I have broken off a piece of my grace and placed it in this container,” explained Castiel, though unnecessarily. “When I say that this is a part of me, I mean it in the most literal sense. My thoughts, my feelings, my memories... All of me is in this shard as much as it is a part of the rest of my grace.” “Wow, sounds pretty intimate.” whistled Shaw, looking up through her eyelashes playfully. “Can I add another condition? Because it’s starting to sound like you need to buy me a drink first.” “Are you done?” asked Castiel bluntly. “Sure, sure.” Shaw motioned for the angel to continue, which he did with a sigh. “Theoretically, when I fuse this shard with your soul, you'll have access to all that I have learned and experienced. I will do my best to limit its influence so my grace doesn't consume you.” at Shaw’s slight frown, he shrugged helplessly. “As I said, this process is unprecedented and is, as you might have guessed, dangerous and very likely will be extremely painful.” Her frown turned into one of grim resolve. “I can take it.” With one last sad look, Castiel opened the container and the shard gravitated up and out to circle idly around his hand. As it crossed his palm he ensnared it in his fist and, in a blink, the angel was right next to Shaw with his arm elbow deep into her chest. Grace met Soul. Burning, searing, tearing, breaking. Mind suddenly bereft of thought. Bleeding, crying, waning, fading The world went white. END of CHAPTER ONE

#team shoot #destiel #spn #poi #person of interest #supernatural #fic #crossover #au

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markwatkinsconsumerguide · 5 years

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Consumer Guide / No.34 / ROSE FREYMUTH-FRAZIER with Mark Watkins.

A repost from 2016.

MW: Rose, you live and paint in New York City. Describe your studio set-up and the materials you tend to use…

RFF: I’m pretty orderly because I work from a home studio. Working at home, as opposed to maintaining a separate studio space, (which I’ve also done in the past), has made me much more orderly and frugal with my mess making.

I have an easel set up, a palette and a little shelf of materials which are mostly a combination of standard commercial oil paints and a few beautiful, high-end brands.

I was lucky enough to have Rublev send me a bunch of samples which are lovely and I really like Michael Harding paints as well.

http://www.rublevcolours.com/

http://www.michaelharding.co.uk/

We just adopted a little Persian kitty and I know that keeping her safe from the materials is going to add a whole new dimension to the way I work!

MW: Do you ‘whistle while you work’ ?

RFF: Rather than listening to music, I like to hear people talking while I paint I need someone to tell me a story. Pod-casts like “This American Life” and public radio are good but listening to audiobooks is my favorite, usually the classics and the longer the better. Favorite authors include Tolstoy, Jane Austen, the Brontes, Dostoevsky and Orwell. I don’t know how many times I’ve listened to Dracula over the years!

MW: How do you 'wet your whistle’ whilst creating?

RFF: Well Mark, I do drink a lot of coffee in the morning and by morning, I mean anytime before 2pm. It takes me a while to get going everyday.

MW: When starting out, how did you select the right person/s to study with? As ’ pupil’, was there ever a danger of being overly influenced by 'teacher’ in terms of taking on their style?

RFF: I was so lucky to have great mentors along the way. First, Gregg Kreutz at the Art Students League of New York. Then Steven Assael, whom I met through a workshop at the New York Academy of Art.

After that I was his studio assistant for two years. Finally, I spent a summer with Odd Nerdrum in Norway. Odd was a huge influence on me wanting to learn how to paint in the first place so of course that was a formative experience for me. I draw from each of these painters in terms of technical tools.

I admired a lot about them all and wanted to get what I could from each, but I knew I’d go on to paint work that was true to my voice, not theirs.

MW: How did you come to develop your own style?

RFF: One’s voice and perspective develops gradually. The more you work, the more the characteristic traits begin to reveal and repeat themselves, becoming what you might call a “style”.

I think my work might be more recognizable for its subject matter than anything else. I’m deliberately following, to the best of my ability, the path of figurative realism but using that venerable style to paint contemporary themes.

So in a way, I suppose it’s mostly in the subject matter where I deferential myself.

MW: How do you price your work?

RFF: Mostly based on past sales. I discuss it with the galleries.

MW: Why is (some of) your work sexually provocative? Would you like to push the barriers back further? What would that look like on naked canvass?

RFF: It seems a lot of life is about sex, from the behavior itself to our sexual identifications and associations.

Power, beauty, procreation, desire, fulfillment, repression and its consequences are just a few examples of how the variables within the world of sexuality color societal behavior as a whole.

Contemporary art, by extension should be at home addressing all of this. So when my work appears to be about sex, it is actually about life in general.

I’m just presenting ideas through this particular filter which I think is pretty universally recognized deep down by most of us. It is interesting in today’s world, with images so accessible on the internet, that a painting on canvas can still strike some as provocative.

I guess that is a good example of why painting is not dead after all, at least not just yet.

MW: The Playboy interview, might be said to be pushing back barriers, how did that come about?

RFF: Ms. Magazine did a feature on my work which lead to the Playboy interview shortly after. I was pretty happy to see my work bridge that kind of expanse within one month.

http://www.playboy.com/articles/playboy-conversation-freymuth-frazier

MW: Give one or two lines on the inspiration / meaning for each of these pictures…”Uprising”, “Angela”, “Woman Fighting Bull”, “Woman Caught Fishing” and “Sarah At Bat”...

RFF: “Uprising” is a political play on the pin-up. “Angela” is a dancer who came to my studio and demonstrated that party trick exactly as I painted it. “Woman Fighting Bull” and “Woman Caught Fishing” are both parables of female empowerment. “Sarah At Bat” is specific to a friend of mine who was fighting against difficult circumstances.

MW: Rose, what’s on the cards for the rest of 2016?

RFF: Mark, I’ll have work at Parlor Gallery in Asbury Park, New Jersey in a show opening at the end of July and also at Ann Nathan Gallery in Chicago as part of their season opener in September. I also continue to show with Cavalier Galleries at their three locations including, New York City.

www.freymuth-frazier.com

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drjacquescoulardeau · 7 years

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RICHARD MILES – ANCIENT WORLDS, THE SEARCH FOR THE ORIGINS OF WESTERN CIVILIZATION – ALLEN LANE – 2010

It is said on the front cover: this book only concerns Western civilization, and thus it is Europe-centered and it would be wrong to blame the author for it. Yet when he says “the story begins six thousand years ago,” first I would have preferred “began,” and second six thousand years ago (4,000 BCE) where did these people who were going to develop what we call today Western civilization come from? What language or languages did they speak? Those are not the first inhabitants of Europe since Europe was the target of a vast Homo Sapiens migration sometime around 45,000 years ago, or even somewhat earlier. These first settlers are part of the Western civilization since they represent 75% of European DNA. Where did these old Europeans come from? What languages did they speak? What was their civilization?

But this obsolescence is quite evident when he writes in 2010: “Homo Sapiens has existed for about 160,000 years, civilization for about 6,000 years” or “Western civilization is built on the bedrock of ancient Greece, and Rome has remained an extraordinary powerful [idea].” In 2010 researchers were speaking of at least 250,000 years ago for the emergence of Homo Sapiens in Africa. Now we know things are even trickier since archaeologists have just found Homo Sapiens remains in Morocco that are 300,000 years old. The author could not know that in 2010 but his very conservative evaluation then is definitely at least 100,000 years short. And his 6,000 years ago for the birth of Western civilization attaches this birth to the invention of writing. This is a very archaic vision of history that only starts with writing. Archaic and absurd. The main tool of the emergence of Homo Sapiens is that some physical and physiological mutations attached to their status of bipedal long distance fast runners endowed this species with enhanced speaking characteristics and Homo Sapiens invented articulated language, which opened them to the vast competence of conceptualization and thus opened the door to religion, technology, science, philosophy, hence mental constructions and thinking. But that would go against the beliefs of creationists and the author keeps some door unopened so that these creationists can inject their own beliefs in what they are being told.

And by the way how could Homo Sapiens have invented writing if articulated language did not exist in the first place? The invention and development of articulated language is the fundamental tool of the emergence of Homo Sapiens that developed his mind, a construct of the brain confronted to real experience in the world, along and in proportion with the development of this very articulated language, and that means we cannot study the emergence of any particular human civilization if we do not found this study on the phylogeny of language and then on the various migrations in and out of Africa. If we do not consider what I said here then we cannot explain at all why this Western civilization is centered on essentially Indo-European languages, and not their cousins, Indo-Aryan languages, and certainly not Semitic languages (in spite of the importance of Judaism in this Western civilization), nor isolating character languages of the vast Asian family that includes among others Chinese, Tibetan, South East Asian languages, Japanese, etc., nor agglutinative Turkic languages in spite of the fact the first European Homo Sapiens population only spoke these Turkic agglutinative languages.

The final opening remark I want to make here is that European Indo-European languages developed along two lines, and two migrations from Armenian to Greek and then the whole Mediterranean Sea giving rise to romance languages, and from The Middle East (Iran and Mesopotamia, Farsi and Kurdish) through the Caucasus (Ossetic is a language left behind) and into the vast central European plains right through to Ireland with three linguistic families developing from this migration, Germanic languages, Slav languages and Celtic languages. If the author had started from this he would not have told us a “story” but he would have been able to tell us about human history in Europe, nearly all European populations coming from the Middle East, first something like 30,000 years before the peak of the Ice Age and then some time after the Ice Age when the water started to rise around 17,000 BCE, a long and slow process that brings a minority population (25% of European DNA) that integrates the local population (75% of European DNA): both integrate the local population in the new culture the Indo-Europeans were bringing, and integrate the Indo-Europeans into the local population to the point of them shifting languages altogether.

This being said I will now go back to the book’s starting point which is the Bronze Age and the invention of agriculture. “Agriculture predates the first cities by thousands of years, but by about 5300 BC farming techniques became more intensive, maximizing food production.” (page 5) He justly speaks of “division of labor” but he does not consider the oldest and first division of labor, the one imposed by the development of Homo Sapiens into a migrating species, the fact that women were supposed to be pregnant every eighteen months and from the age of thirteen onward always had a child in their womb, a child on their hip and children all around to be able to bring to procreation age at least three viable children. This leads us today to the observation that this first division of labor also endowed women with the ability to paint the rock face of the caves they lived in all over the world at about the same time and the responsibility for this mental spiritual function in their communities, hence the religious dimension of their civilization. He would have understood then that the division of labor he speaks of can only come after the first steps of some more intensive productive activity has started to develop because men as well as women had to be able to spare some working time, and energy, to start building cities like Gobekli Tepe in today’s Turkey asserted as existing in 9,500 BCE. Erected monumental stones, carved with all sorts of animals, and fulfilling three functions: religious (rituals), commercial and survival (granary and storage) and burial (taking care of the dead). We could and should also speak of living together inside this protected construction, day and night, though they could have kept their living quarters outside and in light temporary or transient contraptions. The author is right to say agriculture predated the building of the cities, but he starts too late. It started at least 6,000 years earlier. Then the concept of intensification for agriculture could be replaced by the concept of slow development leading to some quantitative and qualitative stage forward due to the connection of water management techniques (irrigation and drainage); selection of more productive seeds due to crossing and genetic sorting out; and better tools used by a better organized population which leads to the invention of what will become “slavery” and originally was only a work organization that enabled flexibility and intensity in the various tasks to be performed with agriculture, and herding that develops at the same time. Gobekli Tepe is part of our European heritage, be it only because their round pattern of erected stones was used in Europe by many branches of Indo-European people, like the Celts (Stonehenge for example in the British Isles, and various stone circles like Cromlechs on the continent). Such circle constructions can even be thought universal.

But he missed the shift from the women’s ritualistic function in pre-agricultural society to the entirely male religious apparatus that was to develop with Judaism, Christianity and Islam, the three religions arising in the Middle East after the inception of agriculture and herding, and the development of agricultural and urban servitude. He indicates the triad of gods and goddesses in the old Sumerian tradition (the inventors of writing) but does not exploit it: An, the god of heaven; Ki, the goddess of earth; and Enki, the god of fresh water. This “pagan” trilogy was rejected by Judaism with their male “god and his spirit” in Genesis, hence a dual vision, the earth “adama” being the root giving birth to the first man Adam, obviously derived from the earth itself. Christianity reinstated the ternary nature of god with the Holy Trinity, all entirely male, the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Islam concentrated the concept of God to a single unitary being, God himself, with only a Prophet next to that God, a Prophet that does not preach but only provides the believers with the words of God himself. If he had considered such elements he would have understood the survival in Europe, in all European traditions, of the triple goddess, the feminine dominance in pre-agricultural religion being reduced to the very powerful but nevertheless marginal triple goddess. That would have enabled him to show how it is embodied in the Greek tradition and in other traditions like the Germanic tradition (Ainbet, Gwerbet and Wilbet, often associated to three symbols like in “Margaret with the worm, Barbara with the tower, Catherine with the wheel, those are the holy three girls,” the worm in the earth, the tower to the sky and the wheel to spin the thread of life on earth). But this ternary nature of the female goddess is universal and in religious practices of the Bronze and Iron ages the triad of gods and goddesses are either some male and some female, or like in Hinduism the three basic gods are, at least two of them, hermaphrodite, either male or female.

Richard Miles misses a lot along that line including what it becomes in Shakespeare: The Triple Goddess or the Thrice-Crowned Goddess on one hand in the Greek tradition, and the three weird sisters, the three witches who are a downgraded form of the Germanic and Celtic tradition. But that would have opened him on a universal development of civilization and that universal development would have led him to considering the fact that the Chinese Emperors are fully established with the Yellow Emperor (2697-2597 BCE) at the time of his story of conquest and building of evanescent empires before the Roman Empire, the only one that lasted, which means the evolution of humanity towards some centralized civilization based on cities of some sort, themselves based on the emergence of agriculture and herding is universal and in fact more advanced in East Asia than in the Middle East and of course Europe. By locking himself in what he calls “Western civilization” the author misses the most important element: Homo Sapiens as a species after the Ice Age when the migrations out of Africa are finished and replaced by migrations outside Africa goes through all over the world a process of development that leads to agriculture, herding and urban settlements. That has to do with the climate change brought by the end of the Ice Age and by the particular competence of Homo Sapiens based on his control of articulated language: to sense, to perceive, to name, to experiment, to speculate, to conceptualize. This complex shift from sensing with sensorial senses to conceptualizing with mind and language is purely human and is universal because all humans control the tool for it, articulated language that they develop as much as it enables them to develop.

Then he does not understand the value of the first writing system which is more or less a syllabary writing system that is in no way representing anything, pure abstract and arbitrary symbols dictated by the writing tool of the stylus. And he does not understand the Phoenician alphabet is not a real alphabet since it is only consonantal with one vowel, aleph when it is at the initial of a word. Otherwise vowels are not written since Phoenician is a consonantal Semitic language, like Akkadian by the way, showing that Sumerian is not because it has many words reduced to one vowel and these vowel words are written as such. These letters of the Phoenician consonantal alphabet are representative of objects stylized in the letters. That would have then enabled him to develop the great invention of the Greeks who actually devised the first consonantal and vocalic alphabet of Indo-European languages. He could at the same time have made a note about the isolating character languages of Eastern Asia. He could also have insisted on old Celtic Ogham alphabet and old Germanic Runic alphabets, all of them developing from respectively a set of trees and objects whose first sound is the letter considered.

The author does quote the problem of slavery but he neither explains how it developed except with a vague connection to agriculture, nor really and systematically explains what slaves were in the ancient world he is speaking of. He thus does not study the rebellions of slaves. The only origin of slaves is war, with at times the fact that slavery can be imposed for financial deficiency, to compensate for one’s debts for example. The main source remains war and that enables him to totally overlook the systematic import of black slaves from black Africa down the Nile valley to Egypt and the Middle East, across the Sahara to Carthage and what is today the Maghreb and Libya, and by sea up the eastern coast of Africa, up the Red Sea or the Persian Gulf to Arabia and the Middle East. Slaves are clearly identified in the Old Testament where they are often said to be Arab slaves. But in the old tradition of Persia and its empire found in the Iranian “Shahnameh” and encountered by Alexander when he conquered the Persian empire and probably encountered even earlier, great number of slaves, both male and female, are common present from one lord to another. Black slaves were systematically used for agriculture and some mining in the Middle East with famous slave rebellions or upheavals, and as soldiers in the Egyptian armed forces, to the point that some black Pharaohs (The black Pharaohs of the 25th Dynasty ruled for approximately eighty-nine years in Egypt, from 760 BC to 671 BC.) are attested as having seized power from their military dominant position. That would have explained a lot about this systematic exploitation of black Africa to provide the Mediterranean and Middle East world with slaves in all forms, including eunuchs castrated down to the abdomen (clean-cut: https://www.reddit.com/r/AskHistorians/comments/21btwr/how_were_eunuchs_castrated/). This is important because when Islam takes over slavery is banned among Muslims and is only tolerated though never banned for non-Muslims and in some periods or cases it may be encouraged. The tradition goes back to the development of agriculture, cities and armed forces to practice the “art” of war.

Yet the author does allude to slavery when he reduces them to “feudal slaves, helots” page 105, when he explains how Plato and Aristotle based all their understanding of political and social life on the existence of slavery for most heavy work and when he explains that Plato in his Republic rejected anything like a general democracy. He was heavily against democracy and advocated a very limited form for the ruling elite of society; All other categories of people being out of this political organization. That’s such philosophers, writings and references that Calhoun used in the 19th century in the USA to justify slavery and advocate a society that could live forever with the majority of its population in slavery. Richard Miles says it, or rather alludes to this slavery vision of society, but he does not get into details though he gets to slightly more when dealing with Rome. He does say then slaves are the main laboring class and he adds that they are also the sexual entertainment of free men and women who can have their own sexual slaves and can take advantage of all the slaves around them freely, starting at a very early age, let’s say 13. If you are a free Roman citizen, or the son of one, you can take any slave anywhere the way you want, though you can only kill or maim your own slaves, not your neighbor’s. That is what being a slave meant in this Mediterranean world but Richard Milles being short on the topic cannot explain how the invention – and that is only one example – of the watermill in first century BCE was never used productively because of the existence of slaves. Why invest in a “machine” when you have quasi free labor at your disposal? Richard Miles actually mentions here and there the common practice when conquering a city: you kill all soldiers, you also kill most adult males and you only keep the females and the young children to be sold at once as slaves. That’s how Carthage ended up. That’s how Troy ended up. Genocidal massacres along with the enslaving of one fourth, one third or one half of the conquered population to be exported straight away to the Roman world and their industrial, construction or farming estates, plus the multiple pleasure houses of the cities and even some in the legions or as gladiators.

This leads the author to the inability to explain why the slaves of Rome opened the gates of the city to the Germanic army besieging it, except an allusion to the “outlawing of pagan rituals” by Emperor Theodosius (page 280). Of course the author does not mention that there were hardly any slaves in the Germanic – or Celtic – traditions. That would have led him to starting to understand the Christianization of Europe, the religious reform of the 9th century and the Benedictine feudal revolution that ensued and that banned any idea of slavery that had survived here and there from the old Roman estates.

But Richard Miles does not right history, but tells us a story and that makes him often fall into anachronism and provide us with anachronistic remarks. “Alexandria was not simply some immaculate but lifeless monument to totalitarianism, an ancient equivalent of some concrete Stalinist dream.” (page 167) Such a comparison has nothing to do in a book that pretends at least to tell us the story of these ancient worlds. “Totalitarianism” has nothing to do there. This ancient world was a world of slavery first of all and then total subservience among the elite or the free class. Look at what they did to Socrates. And the mention of Stalin is just ridiculous. Why not Hitler or Mussolini or Mao Zedong? This ancient world is a world of blood, killing, exploitation, life and death rights for the elite, suffering, torturing, slow dying for the enslaved under-class in the hands of any free man available at any time on this free man’s only whim of the moment. Totalitarianism and Stalin are in fact very civilized as compared to these ancient practices that are closer to Hitler’s without the industrial method to get rid of some sections of society.

But even so, Sparta was a fair example of such exploitation, the fate of “helos”:

“The helots served the Spartans as servants, shield-carriers, potters, cooks, agricultural laborers and breeding machines. They surrendered half of their harvest to the military elite, whose prime objective was to keep them in subjection. They had no rights and were obliged to wear dog-skin caps and animal skins, making them objects of mockery. To the Spartan poet Tyrtaeus, the helots were ‘donkeys suffering under heavy loads’. Every year Sparta declared war on their donkeys, allowing them to be killed with impunity. Its trainee warriors waged a campaign of terror and assassination against them, infiltrating their territory and striking at night – the ancient equivalent of shooting fish in a barrel.”

Note the final anachronistic remark. During that period when the hunting season of helots was open it was a fair game to kill helots not even as if they were some game to be eaten afterwards since they would not be eaten but just left there to rot along the road. Note the “breeding machines” meaning that female helots could be sexually taken and impregnated by any free Spartan able to do it

And yet some of the allusions to the fate of Christians in this ancient Roman world is definitely one small instance of what that enslaved and mortiferous society was for the enslaved precisely. Christians were not better dealt with than plain slaves, and often worse, in spite of what Voltaire may say about it in his Treatise on Tolerance.

And of course he misses the stake of the Christian revolution. He mentions the Council of Nicaea but he does not mention the main stake of this Council: to stabilize the canonic corpus of Christian sacred texts that was to become the New Testament. It is true that this process was also performed and achieved with the extermination of all those who did not abide by this canonical corpus. Bishop Irenaeus (130-202 AD), the Bishop of Lyons or Lugdunum, is famous for his treatise “Against Heresies” that is the fundamental justification of the elimination of all those who fall into these categories. There is a vague allusion to what happened in the upper regions of Egypt and how whole Christian communities were deliberately exterminated by other Christians because they did not abide by the rule. I must say too that his non-treatment of James, Jesus’ brother, his reduced treatment of Jesus and his over-emphasized treatment of Paul, ex-Saul, whose role in the persecution of Christians is not even alluded to and whose role in the elimination of James and of the basic rules of that early Jewish Christianity is not mentioned, all that makes the reference dubious.

I must say that his allusion to Augustine’s “The City of God” and his impossibility to understand it is a very old concept coming from the Old Testament, what is mostly referred to as the Messianic Jerusalem, is basic in the canonical “Book of Revelation.” Can we say the messianic Jerusalem is seen as an earthly city projected into heaven? Maybe but then the model is not Rome, but definitely Babylon that has to be defeated and destroyed for the messianic Jerusalem to be reached. One can say this Babylon is nothing but an old name tagged onto the new Rome. Maybe, but it would be better to note that this messianic Jerusalem is surrounded by high walls with twelve doors or gates, but fortified nevertheless. Fortified against what and who, since we are after the Apocalypse, after the end of the world? In fact, Augustine or John of Patmos cannot conceive the salvation of humanity in any other terms than collective and social. In fact, we have here a fundamental Homo Sapiens characteristic: man cannot survive in this world hence in the other world but by being socially organized and cooperative. The vision of the City of God or the messianic Jerusalem is the only way man can see his future: as a social organized collective group building the future with the help of god. Richard Miles is a little bit short on Augustine. He should meditate the following quotation from Isaiah:

Isaiah 9:6-7Authorized (King James) Version (AKJV)

6 For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.

7 Of the increase of his government and peace there shall be no end, upon the throne of David, and upon his kingdom, to order it, and to establish it with judgment and with justice from henceforth even forever. The zeal of the Lord of hosts will perform this.

This is the Christian tradition, deeply rooted in Judaism, and in fact in all religious or spiritual production of the Middle East as far as our knowledge can go. The history of Homo Sapiens has been all along social and collective with collective settlements that will become cities after the Ice Age. Augustine is in this tradition and he inherits the whole spiritual production of several millennia in the Middle East and around the Mediterranean Sea. And that inheritance is only the specific form a universal human inheritance takes in this region.

In conclusion we have here a fairly detailed account of some aspects of these four or five millennia ending more or less with the fall of Rome to the Germanic invaders. But it is altogether a discourse that complies with the standard reading of Western history and rejects by not mentioning them essential elements. That is regrettable because that cuts the European civilization from the rest of the world and because it does not capture the trajectory of the human species, of Homo Sapiens in their conquest of the world to the present globalized version of human development.

Dr. Jacques COULARDEAU

#Mediterranean Sea #Roman Empire #ancient greece #Indo-European #Carthage #Middle East #Persia

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live4thelord-blog1 · 6 years

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Some Basics of Christian Anthropology and How They Speak to Moral Issues of our Day (Part 2)

Msgr. Charles Pope • January 9, 2019 • 0 Comments

Note: This is the second of a two-part series. Part one is available here.

At its root, anthropology considers what human beings are and how they have interacted with one another and the world around them over time. While many think of anthropology as a secular study of cultures from ancient to modern day, I propose that there is also a Christian anthropology, one that considers who and what the human person is based on God’s revelation in His word and through our bodies. Indeed, our body is a revelation from God, and by and through it He teaches us.

This essay (consisting of both today’s and yesterday’s posts) is not a complete discourse on the topic. Rather, I selected certain teachings rooted in Scripture and the nature of our bodies that apply particularly well to moral issues of our day. In yesterday’s post we considered a few basic points; today we conclude with a few more.

Each human being exists because of a sovereign, loving act of God.

It is a biological fact that a unique human being comes into existence at the moment of conception. The DNA in that single-cell embryo contains all the instructions needed for it to develop, over the next twenty years or so, into an adult.

However, Scripture indicates that although we come to exist at a specific moment in time, God has always known and loved us: The word of the Lord came to me saying, ‘Before I formed you in the womb I knew you’ (Jer 1:4-5). Scripture also praises God saying, For You formed my inmost being; You knit me together in my mother’s womb. I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalm 139:13-14). Hence, each of us is specifically intended by God.

This makes every human life sacred. No form of unjust killing can be justified under any circumstances. Each of us is the result not merely of biological processes or human decisions but a sovereign, loving act of God. Our lives come from God and belong to Him. Therefore, abortion, murder, and suicide (including physician-assisted) are grave evils that we must combat. Even capital punishment must be opposed except in rare cases.

Our body is not our own.

A common assertion today is we can do whatever we like with “our own body.” However, Scripture reminds us, You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore, glorify God with your body (1 Cor 6:19-20). Yes, Jesus redeemed us; He purchased our salvation at the price of His own blood and His own life!

Hence, our bodies are not tools to simply use as we please. Neither are they canvases on which to display tattoos, cuttings, piercings, and the like. We are not to degrade them by using them for excessive or illicit pleasures or to lure others into sin. I do not wish to divert this post into a debate about tattooing and piercing. While such things are not wholly excluded by Church law or Scripture, anything that deliberately, dramatically alters the appearance of the body we received from God is surely problematic. (The nearly permanent quality of such alterations is also concerning.) Such excesses are far too common today, at least in the U.S.

Because our bodies belong to God, we should ask ourselves, “Is God pleased with the way I regard, treat, and make use of the body He has given me?”

There is a nuptial meaning to the body.

We do not exist by ourselves nor only for ourselves. We are contingent beings and, as such, depend on our parents for our existence. Although we exist for our own sake and thus have intrinsic worth, we also exist for others. Our very body speaks to the most fundamental relationships of marriage and family. Simply put, there is a part of our body that is for another. The male and female reproductive organs are designed for each other. This is biologically evident, though sadly some have lost their way and refuse to acknowledge it.

The denial of the purpose of our body’s reproductive organs is manifest in the approval of homosexual practices that “close the sexual act to the gift of life [and] do not proceed from a genuine affective and sexual complementarity” (CCC # 2357). It is also manifest in certain heterosexual practices that close the sexual act to the fruit of life and/or use the sexual organs in disordered ways, ways in which they were not intended to be used.

To restate, there is a nuptial meaning to the body. Our body says to us, “I am for another.” Most of humanity realizes this truth through monogamous marriage. A man leaves his father and mother, seeks a wife, clings to her, and the two become one flesh (cf Gen 2:24). Thus, through the husband and wife, completing and complementing each other, a new member of the human family is created. This is the most common realization of the nuptial meaning of the body.

For priests and for religious brothers and sisters who live celibate lives, the nuptial meaning of the body is realized in a spiritual but real way. Religious sisters are espoused to the Lord, the bridegroom of their souls. Priests and religious brothers take up a spousal relationship with the Church, the bride of their souls. Priests and brothers are not bachelors nor are sisters “single women.” No, each lives in a spousal relationship.

What about members of the laity who never marry? Here, I would argue, a distinction must be made. Because there is a nuptial meaning to the body, there is no vocation to the single life per se. However, those who are currently single (including those who may remain that way permanently), may by that state be available to serve the Lord and the Church or community in a more substantial way. For such individuals, the nuptial meaning of the body is expressed through that vocational service.

Marriage has its structure because children both need and deserve the stable presence of their father and mother in their lives.

God did not design marriage arbitrarily. He set it forth as one man for one woman till death do them part, bearing fruit in their children (see Genesis 2:24-25). He did this because that is what is necessary and best for children. Marriage by its nature is oriented to having children. The Lord’s first command to Adam and Eve was, Be fruitful and multiply, fill the earth and subdue it (Gen 1:28).

Obviously, there must be a father and a mother for a child to exist at all, but beyond the conception of children there is the necessary work of raising them. Children need to have their parents reliably present in their everyday lives so that they can depend on them and trust them. Further, a child needs a father to learn the masculine genius of being human and a mother to learn the feminine genius of being human. This is necessary for the proper and best human formation—psychologically, spiritually, and emotionally. Even an unbeliever should be able to see this. The structure of marriage is not an arbitrary arrangement by God for us to toy with at will.

Sadly, we have done just that. We casually separate what God has joined. God intends for children to be conceived in the sexual union of a husband and wife pledged to each other for life. Having sex and having children are inextricably linked to Holy Matrimony, yet today we have largely separated them. As a result of minimizing the relationship between sex and marriage, there are many marriages without children (by choice) and many children without parents married to each other. We do this through sins and misbehavior such as fornication, adultery, divorce and “remarriage.” The current practice of refusing to favor a married heterosexual couple over a single mother, a single father, or a same-sex couple when placing a child for adoption also severs what God has joined. As a result of all these things, fewer than half of children today grow up in a traditional family.

While children might lose their mother or father through death, to intentionally subject them to anything other than being raised by their own parents is a grave injustice.

The common objection to this teaching is this: “Are you saying that a single mother, a single father, or a homosexual couple cannot raise a child just as well as a married (heterosexual) couple?” The answer is, “Yes, that is exactly what we are saying,” for all the reasons stated above. Some will respond with horror stories that occurred with this or that traditional couple, but atypical occurrences do not alter general norms, and “hard cases make bad law.”

God intends sex, marriage, and children to go together. Having sex naturally leads to having children; this is biologically demonstrable.

Sex, intimacy, and procreation belong together and should not be separated.

Contraception, the artificial prevention of conception that naturally results from human sexual intercourse, is an attempt to sever the connection between sexual relations and having children. Even if not every act of sexual intercourse can result in a child, the bodily truth is that sexual intercourse is directed toward having children. That sex is also pleasurable and may be a sign of love and intimacy does not set aside this point. God joins pleasures to the things that are most necessary for us so that we do not neglect them. For example, the purpose of eating food is to nourish the body. It is also true that eating is pleasurable and sharing meals promotes camaraderie. This does not, however, mean that the primary purpose of food is something other than bodily nourishment. God joins pleasure to food because eating is necessary for our survival, thus they are to be together, not separated.

As an analogy, consider a person who was not particularly interested in the nutritional aspect of food, but rather just liked the pleasure of eating and/or keeping company at feasts. As a result, he would eat and drink to excess, vomit it all up, and then return for more. We all wince at such a horror. This is because eating has a purpose that is being trampled upon in favor of lesser aspects. The proper end, bodily nourishment, is subverted when a person eats to excess and merely for pleasure.

This is precisely what contraception does when it severs the relationship between sex, intimacy, and procreation. We would be similarly aghast at a couple who had sex without any love between them, merely for the purpose of making babies for profit (e.g. selling them for adoption or for use as laborers). This makes the same point: sex, intimacy, and procreation belong together and should not be divided as separate pursuits. Every child deserves to be the fruit of the intimacy and shared love of a stably married father and mother.

Contraception facilitates the violation of the norm Let no one separate what God his joined (see Matt 19:6). The legalization of contraception in the U.S. has led to the explosion of promiscuity and all of the accompanying woes, including sexually transmitted diseases, teenage parents, children raised in single-parent households, and the horror of abortion, which has become the “contraception of last resort.” All of this has gravely harmed or even killed millions of children. Some argue that it is perfectly fine to separate the procreative dimension of sex from its pleasure or its promotion of intimacy, but in separating what God has joined we have reaped a harvest of misery and death. Contraception promotes the exaltation of the pleasure and intimacy of sexual intercourse unmoored from its purpose: the serious business of having and then raising children within a stable marriage. The worship of pleasure and intimacy unmoored from their purpose has led to the unbridled lust we see today.

There will always be more to say about Christian anthropology, but allow the points made in today’s and yesterday’s posts to paint the bigger picture: God has set forth an understanding of the human person both in Scripture and through our very body and soul. We do well to take heed of what He teaches.

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jamesharringtoncreativeworks · 7 years

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So I just saw Wonder Woman…

All right, let me start of by saying that I did not have high hopes for this movie…

Hear me out!

The initial reviews of this movie that I saw came from Salon and The Mary Sue…

You know… these yellow journalists:

Back off, men—they’re scientists: New “Ghostbusters” trailer gets slimed by sexist trolls

The Ghostbusters Trailer Backlash Shows Men Believe in the Power of Representation (But Only When It Applies to Them)

Yeah… anything that they give a good review to usually has to be taken with a grain of salt, especially after the a for mentioned Ghostbusters reboot. Critics really can’t be taken all that seriously anymore.

Given all the controversy surrounding it, I was expecting this movie to be completely overrun with identity politics and social justice hypocrisy.

Then why did you go see it?

Well… because it’s Wonder Woman, she’s friggin’ boss! That’s why.

So what did I think of it? OH MY GOD, IT WAS AWESOME!!! The fighting was extremely well done, the history was very spot on, and the scenery was absolutely incredible.

The movie starts off in the mythical land of Themyscira, where Diana… is lives with the other Amazonian women in secret. She is trained to fight from a young age and becomes the best warrior in all of the land. Her mother seriously wants to keep a secret from her, which we don’t find out about. Apparently the amazons were created to help herald peace and love, but as usual, humanity messes it up.

A pilot in a WW1 plane… rather randomly happens upon the island, crashing into the nearby water. He’s chased by… I believe a German destroyer and several boats. The amazons fight off the troops…

(Jury is still out on what happened to the destroyer… it kind of just vanished… It was listing pretty badly but… I dunno)

… and take the pilot prisoner. He eventually reveals that Germany is creating a new weapon to win the war before the armistice is signed. Diana sets sail with him, against her mother’s wishes, to aid in the fight. She absolutely believes that if she kills Aries, the war will end.

That’s about as much as I’m going to tell you about the plot… So let’s look at the gritty details:

Setting: This movie takes place in WW1 Europe, this is not a modern story, though the entire movie is a flashback thanks to a picture that Batman has delivered to Diana Prince. Very happy about this! Everything appears very accurate surrounding the war. The uniforms aren’t perfect and in some aspects look closer to WW2, but everything is in the right place. So no issue.

However… There are critics who rightly say that the movie should have taken place during WW2 as this is where the original story takes place. However I consider this a re-telling and if they want to start off in WW1, I’ll let that slide.

Casting: I love Gal Gadot as Wonder Woman. I know a lot of people didn’t like the idea of her having an accent, but if you think about it… Wonder Woman is amazonian, not American (at least not at first). Thus making her a little more exotic isn’t uncalled for.

Steve Trevor was also well-cast and the character is portrayed very well. It was nice to see that the people who wrote the movie really did their homework with many of the characters.

Story: What can I say, it’s awesome and there are definitely some twists and turns that are unexpected.

History:

Like I said, it’s portrayed pretty well. I a couple of articles that talk about the accuracy of the women’s armor. The costumes for WW1 weren’t perfect, as I said, but they were close enough.

One other piece that I would like to mention… Dr. Maru’s face:

I’ve heard some people complain about this and frankly, I don’t understand why. It may look cheap and kind of dumb… but again, it’s historically accurate. People who had severely disfiguring facial injuries did actually have coverings made for them:

So again, bravo to the movie. They got that one right.

The Villain: Aries, the God of War is the primary villain here. Wonder Woman believes that if she kills him, it’ll end the war, all war. However in a very well-written twist, Aries reveals that he isn’t starting the wars. He is simply putting the tools into humanities hands, helping them create new weapons. He may put the gun in their hands, but in the end, they’re the one pulling the trigger. This draws up the ethical question of just how responsible is Aries for all of the war and suffering?

So anything wrong with the movie that you want to point out?

Yes… as I said, I was worried about the insertion of identity politics into the movie, and I will grant you that there is some of that. The line ‘I wanted to be an actor, but I’m the wrong color’ feels kind of forced. The second line came from ‘the chief’ when he said that Steve Trevor’s people took everything from him. This one was a little bit more underplayed, but I think a little bit more explaining might have been in order.

That being said, it was two lines. I can live with that.

But Jim, what about the line where Diana says that men are good for procreation, but not so much for pleasure?

Meh. There’s an old saying that goes ‘no one loves you as much as your left hand.’ Put that into context, and Diana’s statement could go either way. So I chalk that up as a non-issue.

My only other issue is with the movie’s portrayal of the armistice. It’s really played up as a positive thing and the best chance that everyone has for peace… this is horribly inaccurate.

The armistice led to the Treaty of Versailles, which when placed into the context of the Franco-Prussian War and WW2, was little more than payback for the embarrassment that France suffered at the hands of Germany during the Franco Prussian War, and would be a prelude to WW2. The armistice, nigh the very end of WW1, was little more than a prelude to the reckoning that was soon to come.

Final Thoughts…

The movie was fantastic and I highly recommend it to anyone and everyone who has not yet seen it.

In addition to that, Wonder Woman has, by virtue of existence, shown just how cancerous the far right and left political ideologues really are.

On the right, people complained about Gal Gadot’s casting, why?

Because she was Israeli, not American-born.

Because she was of Jewish descent.

Pretty bad right? However, the left didn’t treat her any better. In addition to body-shaming Wonder Woman out of the UN, the left objected to Gal Gadot’s casting because…

She was too thin…

She was cleanly shaven.

In addition, they complained about her outfit… despite being more conservative than other incarnations.

Finally, some theaters set up women-only viewings of the movie and people on the left mocked those who took issue with it… despite the fact that it was a violation of Constitution Civil Rights, something the Social Justice Left claims to fight for.

So without even really doing anything, Wonder Woman patriotically showed us how cancerous the right wing extremists, the religious fundamentalists, the regressive left, and the Social Justice Warriors actually are.

That alone makes her a hero in my book.

So in summation… forget the idiocy, forget the politics, go see the movie and have a good time. Wonder Woman is a hero for the ages and is someone both men and women of all walks of life and enjoy… and it was a major thrill to introduce my son to her!

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.

[email protected]

I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.

Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!

Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

Wonder Woman: A Fitting Tribute So I just saw Wonder Woman... All right, let me start of by saying that I did not have high hopes for this movie...

#Comics #fantasy #Movies #Opinion #review #Superheroes #Wonder Woman

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