#so what boris? you visited him twice

[the-jam-to-the-unicorn]

The bromance is back.

[alvadee]

So I contacted a Robert, who is an award-winning screen-writer and actor, because I saw a comment on FB where he said Victor had been close to him and his family. Here’s what he told me after I sent him a first mail:

“I probably don’t have much more information about him than Wayne does (I don’t actually know him personally). Even though we called him Uncle Victor, he was no relation. My aunt, who was also in the entertainment business under the name of Dorothy Chace, grew up with Victor. The Buono’s had a shop in San Diego, and my grandfather Fred worked on refrigerators, so he would see them when the equipment broke down (He did the same thing when Gregory Peck’s parents had their grocery store). Victor would visit on occasion and tell us kids what he was doing, and spun a good story which kept us entertained. Later, when I was older, and he visited or we went to his place in Apple Valley (which we only did twice) the stories got more about the shows he did, the stars he met, and especially the restaurants he frequented. He was an amazing cook. Later in his life, in between guest-starring roles, he would go back to doing The Old Globe, and I would make sure that I was in the audience. It’s probably why I am in the entertainment industry myself as an actor and writer (though more as a writer). I actually was in a crowd scene on ‘Man From Atlantis’ which was fun. I miss him, reciting his own poetry totally off the cuff, singing, telling stories. He had been warned by the doctors that he should slow down with the overindulgent lifestyle, but no one could tell him anything. He would ignore it or make a joke out of it. He said if he got skinny, he’d have to write all-new material and who wanted to see a funny skinny man.”

So based on what he wrote me I was basically like “Hey! I think you do actually have infos that might be news to me!” and asked him some questions based on what he wrote me and gave him a few of my thoughts on the topics he brought up. So here’s what he elaborated in his response:

“The Ranch was in the South end of Apple Valley off of Tussing Ranch Road. I don’t remember the exact address. It’s been 40+ years since I’ve been there. The ranch wasn’t an mansion, but nice. California style. Big kitchen, as you would suspect. I’m surprised that Wayne doesn’t know where it is. I had assumed since Victor was unmarried when he died, that the family would have inherited it.

I don’t know where the shop was or even what kind of shop it was, only that it had refrigerators that my Grandfather repaired when necessary. It was in the Hillcrest area of San Diego, that I do know. It actually could have belonged to Victor’s grandparents.

As to his voice, it was loud and booming, baritone-bass, very beautiful. He would break out in song at the drop of a hat, or go into poetry, or Falstaff. He loved Italian Opera (Madame Butterfly was one he liked) although he did come to see me when I did Boris Gudonov with San Diego Opera.

In his earlier days, he was more concerned about his weight. He yo-yo dieted a lot. He’d lose up to 100 pounds and then, as he would say, the pounds found him and brought friends. I had never heard the story about talking to Lee Meriwether about his health concerns. (I mentioned an anecdote she told in two interviews that once when she was chilling with Victor on set when they were shooting a Batman ‘66 episode that he was in a strange, melancholy mood and told her he thinks he won’t get older than 31.) Since she is a friend of mine. (We did two movies together ‘A Horse for Summer’ and ‘Waiting in the Wings’), I’ll ask her about it. You are not wrong about wave dieting. Some of his companions tried to get him to lose, but after years of dieting and gaining it back, he became at peace with it to a degree, but did visit the doctor regularly. He developed the weight as part of his identity and poked fun at it, but it did make him insecure in his personal life. The sad part is that if he had lost all the weight he wanted would he still have been able to get parts? This haunted him I know. He told me once, I guess this would have been in the  mid – 70’s that he did worry about the Lanza effect. You probably know that Mario Lanza was a famous tenor who yo-yo dieted constantly.  He would lose a lot of weight then gain it all back. Finally his heart gave out due to the stress at a fairly young age. Sound familiar?

As for what he said to reporters and interviewers, they asked him the same questions about his weight and what was it like to play the bad guy and why wasn’t he married. Victor was very honest. He was fairly out in his sexual preference, but he was very private about it. He had boyfriends, but not many lasted very long. I knew about that part of his life, but it was something I never brought up or he shared. As for his work, he was loved by the people he worked with, because he was so amiable and funny. Frank Sinatra adored him, as did a lot of his co-stars. Joan Crawford, not so much, but he didn’t like her either. I know when the ‘Batman villains got together for a party, it was always a good time. I adored him as a person and as an actor. Larger than life.”

OBVIOUSLY Robert knows details and in general things about parts of his life no one else I’ve talked to could tell me much about so far. I’m also really happy to get a confirmation on my thoughts or “theories” I had regarding his weight struggles and dating life! I sent Robert another mail asking more questions based on what he told me (and I feel like I want to ask him at least another dozen) but he seemed kind of short-spoken and not really eager to tell me stories (but maybe that’s just my paranoia). So I don’t know If I’ll get a response and be able to update this post with more but God I hope so!

[sapphire-strikes]

Since the season calls for it, could you share some Halloween/Fall headcanons for the Habiticians?

• The air began to chill, the sun began setting sooner and the familiar sent of dying leaves filled the air as mid autumn was already around the corner.

• With this change in season came your first autumn in town as well as Boris' first time celebrating with friends.

• You'd been straddling the fence on whether or not to do anything festive this year, openly at least. It was entirely possible that no one in town even celebrated Halloween and it wasn't to unpopular to ignore other more mundane fall festivities altogether. You were getting older anyways, maybe it was about time you put the apple bobbing and costumes behind you.

• This train of thought was short lived as you made your way down the sidewalk. You were going to be passing Boris and Kamal's place soon, maybe seeing if they had any decorations out would help you make your decision? Truthfully, Kamal didn't seem like the type of person to over-celebrate holidays and you weren't entirely sure if they even did anything for autumn or Halloween in Russia.

"Flower Power!"

You turned your head in the direction of the excited voice and found yourself sizing up what was probably the biggest leaf pile you had ever seen sitting in Kamal's front yard. It was easily 5ft tall and twice as wide.

The owner of the voice was no where to be seen as you continued to stare amazed at the massive hill of leaves. "Hello?", you called out, stifling a flinch as something moved from within the mound. A second later Putunia jumped out of the vast sea of leaves and tackled you into a hug.

"Did I surprise you?!" The young girl asked excitedly as she swung around your neck to put you in a choke hold.

"Yeah, I'd say so!" You mused, stumbling a bit as she climbed over you like a jungle gym, flicking away the leftover leaves that fell from her hair into your own.

"Excellent!", Putunia let out a laugh of victory then leaned over your head to meet your eyes. "Flower Power, you should help us finish!"

Before you could respond she jumped off your shoulders and sprinted around the leaf pile, "Menace! Flower Power is here to assist us as well!"

Following her around the leaf pile you caught sight of Boris who was gripping a rake and focusing intently on adding to the ever growing sea of leaves that was beginning to encompass their yard. When he finally noticed you he smiled widely.

"Ah, Y/n! It is good to see you!"

"Same, but what exactly am I helping you guys with?" You asked, always happy to see the two of them playing around together. Before Boris could answer your question Putunia once again burst out of the massive pile of leaves.

"Help us complete the ultimate leaf base of course!" She stood proudly with both hands on her hips then looked prudently around the yard. "But we're running out of material! ...Menace!"

On queue, Boris dropped his rake and saluted her before walking over to a tree at the left side of the yard. Sticking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth in concentration, he framed the tree with his fingers for a moment before gripping the trunk and shaking it.

The way the massive tree creaked as it was forcibly shook was an obvious tell of the kind of strength it must have taken to even make it budge in the first place.

After the first few shakes you understood exactly what he was doing as the two of them were gently pelted by the rain of dried leaves that were prematurely coaxed from their branches.

You couldn't hold back a snickers as the trees on the opposite side of the yard caught your attention. All of them as bare as they'd be in late winter. That certainly explained where they got foliage to make that pile as big as it was.

You turned back just in time to see Tim Tam fall from the tree Boris was shaking. Without missing a beat they were caught by him on the way down. "So that is where you were, Teem Tam!"

Putunia was quick to run over and chew out her purple companion for fooling around while there was work to be done. Tim Tam on the other hand looked as indifferent as ever, seemingly not minding being held by Boris. They did look away from Putunia for a moment when they noticed you, even returning your small wave before staring emotionlessly back down at their passionate friend.

• "Augh, come on. Why are you taking so long...." Millie whined from the chair she stood on to better reach the counter.

"Hey, good things take time, kid. 'Sides, you don't have to help if you don't want to, go play with Boris, Putunia and Tim Tam if you want." Kamal offered, not looking away from the orangish brown mixture he way stirring together.

"No thanks. Where's the fun in playing around in a bunch of stupid leaves? Sounds like baby games to me. She crossed her arms and blew a bit of hair out of her face before continuing much more quietly, "Plus, it's...getting dark outside."

"Oh, I see." Kamal wore a knowing smile "Anyway, you done moldin' the crust yet?"

"No! I mean, yes! Maybe, I don't know. It doesn't look good but I'm not gonna do it over so you'd better not complain!" She pushed the pie dish roughly in his direction and pretended to look away in disinterest

"Hmm..." Kamal rubbed his chin to playfully exaggerate his inspection of her work.

"What!?" Millie looked nervously from Kamal to the pie crust. "Fine, of course I didn't do it right, I'm like 5 after all!"

Her defensiveness was interrupted by Kamal's laughter. "No no, nothing like that!" He ruffled her hair despite the way she angrily smacked at his hand. "It looks really good, Mil. Specially for yer first time."

"Tch, you're just saying that..."

"Nah, I mean it! Ya even used a fork to pattern the edges. Where'd you learn that?"

"Saw my mom doin it..." She spoke in an angrily embarrassed whisper.

"We're doing three total so you can take one home just for the two of you, that way you can show off how well you did. Sound good?"

Even she wasn't able to hide the smile that appeared on her face at that idea, "I-I guess that'll work!"

After working to pour the filling into the crusts, the pies were ready to go into the oven. Millie even inssisted on helping clean up despite Kamal's assuring her that she could go watch TV until they were done baking.

A moment later the chime of the door sounded as Boris stepped inside.

"You guys finally done out there?" Kamal asked, undoing his apron to hang it on the wall.

"Not quite, but it was getting quite dark so I thought it best to head in!" Boris responded. Putunia rode proudly on his shoulders and Tim Tam was held like duffle bag under his arm. Putunia quickly slid down his arm to rush to Millie who was currently staring down the slowly browning pies in the oven while Tim Tam was content to remain is his hold as he made his way to the kitchen.

"That is not all though! Y/n came to visit us as well!" Boris exclaimed, happily turning around to gesture in your direction.

Stepping through their threshold you were met with a wave of comfortable warmth, reminding you just how cold it was beginning to get outside. The cozy atmosphere of their house was amplified by the various shades of orange and brown that decorated the livingroom and kitchen. You plucked a few more leaves out of your hair and tossed them away before closing the door behind yourself. You weren't exactly planning on visiting today but you had a soft spot for Boris and he was just as excited as, if not more than Putunia was by your arrival. While Tim tam wasn't one to speak much, or show emotion, your first mention of heading home had them silently clinging to your leg, so you got the message that your company was most certainly welcome.

The next thing that caught your attention after shutting the door was the warm smell of cinnamon and pumpkin spice that was fresh in the air.

"Are you making pumpkin pie, Kamal?" You asked curiously, not quite paying attention to Boris' introduction of you.

"Actually-", Kamal started

"WE'RE making pumpkin custard pie!" Millie clarified, having suddenly appeared beside you.

"Heh, yeah. I'm trying to get back into the groove of baking so I can make some for Trencil's party. They won’t be done for a bit, but you want to stick around and have some? I consider it one of my specialties so it'll be a real treat." Kamal flashed you a thumbs up and a cheeky smile.

"Trencil's party?", you questioned, but before you got any kind of answer Putunia made an excited gasp and ran in your direction.

"Flower Power, you should stay to carve pumpkins with us too! Our moms aren't gonna be back until late so we'll have plenty of time!"

"That's an amazing idea!" Boris added clasping his hand together happily.

Suddenly all four sets of eyes were on you with Boris, Putunia and Kamal's looking at you hopefully while Millie’s almost seemed to be threatening you. You were just about to give your answer when you realized someone was missing and once again felt that familiar pressure grip your lower leg. Guess that answers that.

It's kind of hard to straddle a fence when you have friends that tackle you over the side.

• Boris never celebrated Halloween growing up and probably would have overlooked it once again this year if it wasn't for Kamal questioning him on whether he wanted to do anything.

• While Kamal hasn't done anything for fall or Halloween since he was young, he was surprised when he didn't hear anything from Boris about participating in the season. As it turns out, Kamal just bringing it up was enough to make Boris realize that he can actually celebrate holidays now, like for real and with his friends! And so the seasonal festivities were put in motion for the both of them.

• Kamal even surprises him by taking him to one of those pick your own pumpkin patches. Boris either picks out a little white Cinderella pumpkin or one of those absolutely giant, orange ones. There is no in between.

• As for the ex-habiticians; Jimothan puts up some spooky decorations around his lounge and gets a kick out of trying to scare the kids from around town. It's real cheesy stuff; fake spiders, pretend decapitation, animatronic hand in a bowl of candy. But with kids like Petunia, Tim Tam, Nat and Trevor, he ends up with more property damage than successful scares and the only person that actually gets spooked by his tricks is Parsley.

• While he often prefers to keep is vampirism on the down low, Trencil is a huge fan of Halloween and plays it up just for that night, even dressing the part. He sees it as his chance to look "cool" in front of Nat since her friends all get a kick out of it. The Varnia’s Halloween party is the place to be on the 31st if you want to have a good time.

• While Nat doesn't quite share her dads love of Halloween, she plays along since she can tell he really enjoys himself. Gives you an invitation herself, remarking that you have to come. She has to attend every year and now that you're friends, so do you. She also actually dresses up this year thanks to Trevor’s influence.

• Trevor's a Halloween fanatic. What day could be better for monster hunting?! Convinces Nat to break him into their party so he can make sure there's nothing suspicious going on. And by "break in" I mean she invited him and lets him come in through the back door so he feels sneaky.

After a good bit of investigating the only suspicious thing he can find about the party is how good the pie is. Once he's satisfied the two of them go trick or treating then spend the rest of night in a cemetery eating candy and testing out Trevor's new EMF sensor.

• Unsurprisingly, the two of them dress up as a vampire and werewolf respectively.

• You, Boris and Kamal take Millie, Putunia, and Tim Tam trick or treating while Lulia and Jerafina go to the Varnia's party.

• It might be more accurate to say that You and Kamal take, Boris, Millie, Putunia and Tim Tam trick or treating.

• Millie was actually scared to go out and despite doing her best to hide it, Kamal caught on pretty quick when he noticed her reluctance to change into her costume. As it turns out, she'd never actually gone before and was only agreeing to go because Putunia was so excited about it.

• After a pep talk, Kamal assures her that no one will be upset with her if she'd rather stay home. Shortly after that she regains her fire and remarks that Putunia looks up to her so she can't let her down! (Before they set out she makes sure to clarify to Kamal that his pep talk had nothing to do with her feeling better!)

• Boris plays into his natural glow and goes as Frankenstein's monster, Putunia goes as the Mask Diver (obviously), Millie goes as a Viking and Tim Tam didn't actually bring a costume so Kamal grabs a sheet, cuts out some eye holes and BAM~ a ghost!

• Kamal also gives in after some encouragement from you and Boris and ends up going as a Zombie, even if he is just chaperoning.

• If you weren't planning on going trick or treating yourself, you tended to hang back with Kamal, leaving Boris to escort the three kids up to the doors. You swear he must have given a good handful of people heart attacks with the way they flinched or stared wide eyed upon seeing the 7'4 green, monster man standing behind the three kids.

• Boris doesn't actually eat any of the candy he gets, happily giving it to Kamal who was more than willing to except. He's still not a fan of candy or soda and just because it's Halloween doesn't mean he's going to comprise his values. You're gonna get an earful too if he sees you going overboard with the sweets!

• You end the night by meeting up at Trencil's party with some of your other friends. Trencil is quite the host; playing up his greeting with ominous warnings and an almost exaggerated Romanian accent. The house is decorated from floor to ceiling with spooky décor and he's laid out quite the spread.

Jerafina came as a sexy nurse, Gillis was a football player, Randy came as a...crow? And of course Rondo came as a clown. Mirphy and Lulia also attended, though not in costume.

• It might be fun to make a point to stop by Jimothan’s on the way home. Tiff, Dallas, Parsley, Jimothan and Wallus seemed to be having their own little party among the other customers of the lounge.

• Getting to hear Tiff sing Thriller is also quite the treat.

• Before you head home for the night, give Parsley a break and least pretend to be scared by one of Jimothan’s surprises. It’ll make Jimothan happy and he’ll finally be satisfied enough to stop trying.

• Be sure to bring some candy back for Pabit!

[buzzdixonwriter]

Hoo U?

A spirited discussion is raging on Facebook now, the good kind of spirited discussion, an enthusiastic exchange of ideas and ideals, not a snark fest.

The top is a deceptively simple one:  Who are the characters various actors played?

Let me clarify:   It began as a trivia challenge to name actors who have won Oscars for playing the same character.

And there in lays the debate.

How exactly are we defining a character.

This all sounds trivial, and to be frank this part of the discussion is, but it’s gonna get deep by the end.  

Trust me.

So here’s the kickoff:

Marlon Brando won a Best Male Performance Oscar for playing Vito Corleone in The Godfather; Robert DeNiro won a Best Male Supporting Performance Oscar for playing Vito Corleone in The Godfather II

Heath Ledger won a Best Male Supporting Performance Oscar for playing the Joker in The Dark Knight; Joaquin Phoenix won a Best Male Performance Oscar for playing the Joker in Joker.

(Trivia bonus: Kate Winslet and Gloria Stuart received Oscar nominations for playing the same character at different stages of her life in Titanic, and Winslet and Judi Dench were both nominated for playing the same character at different stages in Iris as well; plus Peter O’Toole was nominated twice for playing Henry II in Beckett and The Lion In Winter which technically counts as a sequel…)

The Facebook debate is over whether Ledger and Phoenix were actually playing the same character.

Now in the case of the former, The Godfather II is a continuation of the same story in The Godfather by the same creative team with much of the original cast reprising their roles, the Oscars going to two actors who played the same character at different stages of their life (BTW, where's the love for Oreste Baldini, who played Vito as a young boy?).

The two films were re-edited and combined with The Godfather III to make a nine-hour and 43-minute miniseries The Godfather Trilogy.

It is clear the creators’ intent from the beginning was for audiences to accept Baldini / DeNiro / Brando as the same person at various stages of his life.

The Ledger Joker and the Phoenix Joker cannot possibly be the same character for a wide variety of internal continuity issues separating the two films.  The creators of Joker went out of their way to state their version of the character was not The Dark Knight version.

Unlike The Godfather movies, you can’t link up the various live action Batman / Suicide Squad / Joker stories into a single coherent narrative (especially since you have to drag in the live action Supeman and Wonder Woman movies and TV shows as well).

. . .

Can different actors play their version of the same character in otherwise unlinked productions?

Of course they can.

Stage plays do it all the time.

If you start with the same exact text, then clearly any number of actors can play Hamlet or MacBeth or Willy Loman.

The problems arise when one goes afield of the text.

. . . 

In 1932 Constance Bennett made a movie called What Price Hollywood? that did okay but really didn’t set the world on fire.

In 1937 Janet Gaynor remade that film as A Star Is Born, the story changed to give it a tragic yet uplifting conclusion; her version was a big hit and Gaynor received an Oscar nomination.

In 1954 Judy Garland remade A Star is Born as a musical and that proved a big hit, and Garland received an Oscar nomination.

In 1976 Barbara Streisand took a swing at the material with a country-western version of A Star Is Born and while she got an Oscar nomination, audiences were unreceptive.

In 2018 Lady Gaga remade A Star Is Born and received both an Oscar nomination for her role and an Oscar win for her song.

Question: Are they all playing the same character?  Each played a character that started their film with a different name than the other versions, but the Gaynor / Garland / Streisand / Gaga versions all end with the central character proudly proclaiming they are “Mrs. Norman Maine.”

Same character?

. . .

There’s no argument that William Gillette, Basil Rathbone, and Benedict Cumberbatch all played Sherlock Holmes, even when their productions took certain liberties with the stories.

But Sherlock Holmes is not an idiot, and Michael Caine played Holmes as an idiot in Without A Clue.

Was he playing the same character as Gillette / Rathbone / Cumberbatch?

(Ironically Peter Cook played a very recognizable and wholly credible Holmes in his farcical send up of The Hound Of The Baskervilles with Dudley Moore.)

Did George C. Scott play Holmes in They Might Be Giants?  Almost everybody else in the story thinks he’s a New York banker who’s suffered a nervous breakdown and only thinks he’s Holmes, but Scott believes he is Holmes 100% and throughout the film other people he encounters accept him as Holmes at face values.

He functions as Holmes throughout.

And in the end, the audience is left in a weird place, not really knowing what his fate may be, not absolutely sure if he is a bonkers banker but maybe…somehow…he is Sherlock Holmes…

. . . 

Did John Cassavettes in Tempest and Walter Pidgeon in Forbidden Planet play the same character?  Were either of those roles Shakespeare’s Prospero?

Did Christopher Lee play the same character in Horror Of Dracula and its sequels, in Count Dracula, and in In Search Of Dracula?   (The producers of Count Dracula sure went to great pains to explain their version was a different and more accurate version than the Hammer version of the character, and In Search Of Dracula cast Lee as Vlad Tepes who was the real life historical figure Bram Stoker based his novel on.)

For that matter, is Count Orlok in Nosferatu:  A Symphony Of Terror actually Dracula?  A European court awarding lawsuit damages to Bram Stoker's widow sure thought so.

Along similar lines, was Bela Lugosi playing Dracula in Columbia's Return Of The Vampire? Universal's lawyers sure thought so.

Did Jim Caviezel in Passion Of The Christ, Max von Sydow in The Greatest Story Ever Told, Paul Newman in Cool Hand Luke, and Michael Rennie in The Day The Earth Stood Still all play the same character?

Did Toshiro Mifune, Clint Eastwood, and Bruce Willis all play the Continental Op?

Did Clint Eastwood play the same character in all three Dollar films?

Did Vincent Price, Charlton Heston, and Will Smith all play the same character?

Did Leonardo DiCaprio play the same character Steve McQueen played in The Great Escape (even if just for one brief scene) or did he play a character who played a character Steve McQueen played in The Great Escape?

Ooh, here's a good one!

Lon Chaney Jr starts Ghost Of Frankenstein playing the same monster Boris Karloff played in the original Frankenstein / Bride Of Frankenstein / Son Of Frankenstein trilogy, but by the end gets Ygor's brain (Bela Lugosi) transplanted into his body and speaks / thinks / acts briefly as Ygor in Frankie’s body.

However, Frankenstein Meets The Wolfman while maintaining continuity with all four previous films cast Lugosi as the monster (because Chaney had to play the Wolfman, duh) without dialog.  Glenn Strange then assumed the role again in continuity with all previous films for House Of Frankenstein, House Of Dracula, and Abbott & Costello Meet Frankenstein, occasionally speaking briefly in the role.

Who was Strange playing in his films?  The original Karloff monster or Ygor in Frankie's bod?  Are those two distinct characters?

. . .

All the above is fun trivia to debate, but it links to a much more serious question:  Who are you?

That’s not a trivial matter.  What constitutes out identity?  What makes us who we are?

I lost my father years ago to Alzheimer’s.  As my brother Robert observed, the only member of a family not affected by an Alzheimer’s diagnosis is the person suffering from it themselves.

I would talk to my father on the phone, and he was always pleasant and cheery, but about three years before he died I realized he had no idea who I was, I was just some voice on the other end of the line that mom wanted him to talk to.

My father was by nature and easy going kinda guy, and that certainly made his last few years easier for my mother and brother Rikk to cope with, but one night when I was visiting, trying to get their affairs straightened out so he could enter a nursing home, he got irritated with my mother as she was trying to help him and raised his hand as if to slap hers away.

My father never raised his hand against my mother.  

Ever.

He taught me and my brothers that was something no real man ever did.

He might sound gruff on occasion but he never raised a finger, much less truck our mother.

The fact he did so in the throes of Alzheimer’s indicated that whoever he once was, he wasn’t that person anymore.

We got him into a nursing home and he lasted a little less than a year there, his mind and his memory and his personality deteriorating rapidly.

Who was he at the end?

I didn’t go to his funeral.

What was the point?

The father I knew and loved had departed long before they buried his shell.

My grandmother, on the other hand, remained her cranky, irascible self until a week and a half before she died, finding the wit to crack one last memorable joke before her body began shutting down.

. . .

The question of identity is related to consciousness, and these are referred to as “the hard question” by physicians and physicists and philosophers alike.

What makes us “us”?

How do we know who we are?

What constitutes identity?

There are no easy, pat answers.

We have textbook definitions that dance around the issue of identity and consciousness, providing enough of a foundation for us to recognize what it is we’re discussing, but no one has yet come up with a clear, concise explanation of what either phenomenon is.

It’s like saying “apples are a red fruit.”

Okay, we know what you’re talking about, but we also know that description falls far, far short of what an apple actually is.

That’s why trivial discussion like whether or not Heath Ledger and Joaquin Phoenix are playing the same character is a lot more important than it seems.

(BTW, they aren’t. Phoenix won his Oscar for his version of the Rupert Pupkin character in a violent remake of The King Of Comedy.)

    © Buzz Dixon 

[coldplaysongsonrepeat]

I have a headcanon that after Theo has finished his business trips around the world he comes back to Hobie’s and goes back to work in the shop, but he would visit Antwerp (or other cities in Europe, wherever Boris decides to take him) at least twice a year, or even three times. Hobie would notice how Theo changes just after these trips, he laughs more, definetely looks happier, smiles down at his phone whenever he gets a message. Hobie wouldn’t say anything, he would just listen to Theo talking about Boris, about the things they’ve been through, the movies they’ve seen, the way Boris comments the worst scenes and makes them hilarious, about all the sights they’ve seen in another city and all the museums Theo managed to drag Boris to. Hobie would also hear Theo skyping Boris late at night or early in the mornings (because time difference is a bitch) and talking to him quietly for hours. It’s not Hobie’s business, but he can’t help but smile nostalgically whenever he sees this look on Theo’s face every time Boris calls him and says he is on his way from the aeroport. Theo rushes to pick him up and then disappears till the next morning, and the next day at work he is sleepy, a bit disoriented and has this stupid smile on his face. Later in the day Boris would appear in the shop to chat with Hobie, he would tell him about these great antique shops they have in Europe and insist that he should visit them someday, in France, or in Italy. He then would turn to Theo and they would talk silently with only their eyes, and Hobie would understand they don’t even need words to communicate. It’s not Hobie’s business AT ALL, but one time they sit with Theo in the kitchen drinking beer, and he feels like a conversation allows him to ask. He says as quiet as he can preparing to laugh it off at any moment “Are you guys...?”. And Theo would get all red in the cheeks and shake his head no as if out of pure instinct, even before he understands what Hobie means. Hobie then would shrug his shoulders and say as if to himself “I’m not going to assume anything, Theo, it’s your life, but trust an old man like me that whenever you find the person that is just right for you, nothing else matters. Especially what other people have to say or think about you”. And he knows it for sure, because he saw the same look in the eyes and the same smile in mirror long long years ago, he was terrified and didn’t know what to do with all these feelings to another man, because all people around him said it was wrong, that relationship like that was wrong. And Hobie is so happy that Theo gets to see better times, no, not perfect, but definetely better. So they would change the subject, but Hobie would notice that look in Theo’s eyes, and he would know that everything will be alright.

[fortheheavenssake]

MM Anon 6

Jan 1, 2020

MM ANON ……… “ I don’t want to go back!!!”…… “ get him a title”………… “ a monthly periodical” ……… “mental health and well-being” ……… A brief synopsis LG……… “ I’ve prepared a small dossier ma’am”…… “One has no choice”……… “I’ll contemplate it”………… “ Somewhere warm Catherine”……… keep a low profile ………… he’ll do what he’s told!!!! ………… perhaps a state visit??………… “springtime with Boris in harmony” ……… “Mmmmmm, god help us”

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Jan 2

MM ANON ……… Drip, drip drip……… Drop ,drop drop……… back to school soon 🏫 ……… a successful 🌍 ……… Sophie steps up…… a stable stable ………a tad overconfident ……… “ sooner she falls off the better!!” ……… “ Mmmmm, quite the young man!!”…… “resuming play” ……… it’s the open!! ……… “a bit of an obsession!!” …………”it’s another course Catherine” ……… “be careful!!”…… “ we’ll have to send an envoy ma’am”. ……… “yes, it’s a disaster “.

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Jan 3

MM ANON …… “They will return… eventually!!”…… “mummy, it’s school Monday!!”……… cry-sis, 😭😭what cry-sis…… “from our house to Bauhaus”……” there together sir”………… “ one needs the quiet time “……… take the pulse of the populace ……… “ overwhelming support ma’am” ……… “football George,football!!”…… “O god!! He’s on another planet”………… “ A quiet few weeks would be welcomed” ……… I received the memo. ………” poison chalice old boy, poison chalice”

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Jan 3

MM ANON, The Suck-sexses are said to be contemplating a return to the UK, I don’t think so, they have made it quite clear that they have nothing but contempt for the BRF and its citizens. They probably will visit LA and try to get some free PR via OW. Nutmeg will begin to blab more word salad about her “Snoozpaper” and how she’s living this perfect life with archificial and himself. WHO PAID FOR HER SIX WEEK VACATION???? THE BRITISH TAXPAYERS

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Jan 3

MM ANON , Mmmmm ,RA has a point, no recipes from Harry except (photoshopped images) ? My own gut instinct is that all the misinformation has muddied the waters of confusion. As you say this site is for “ entertainment purposes” and your unique in that respect. No body posts the amount of information that crosses your blog from anonymous sources to real time situations, even the national press visit “Skippy” to fuel its veracity for copy. As they say “A diabolo,qui semia dei”

A diabolo, qui est simia dei. Where god has a church the devil will have his chapel.

Thank you MM Anon😊❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Jan 4

MM ANON ……… a list of all her discrepancies!! ……… sex, lies and video tapes, my god!!……… metoo Monday …… “actually darling it’s now the safest local”…… “I’d love to play in a tournament” …… “ great backhand!! “ ……… Duty calls…… first things first!! ……… “an environmental tour??” ……” eventually,with the children” ……… no chance to cry racism ……… no protocol left ……… maybe frog cott?? ……… we start building in the spring ………” it won’t last long”.

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Jan 5

MM ANON, ……… 🎼I’m ready, ready ready ready,I’m ready🎼…… “No your not”………… vinegar and brown paper ……… activate the broken record ……… same old, same old ………” from my window I can see Frogmore House” ……… A short reflection on residency ……… home delivery …… another Sunday service , beautiful!! ……… she’s got this one in the bag. ………”The children aren’t participating!!”……A REASON, A SEASON A LIFETIME. ………

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Jan 6

MM ANON … RICKY , RICKY ,RICKY!! …… respect!! …… A HANK-kerchief full of platitudes …… 🎼a speech full of sugar helps the Meganson go down🎼……… 🎼Oh happy days 🎼………… “SHE CAME, SHE SAW, SHE CONNED-CURD…… …”………… “ this must end soon !! very soon”…… We have the technology ……… “Ahhh , The elusive tape”……… Timing is everything!! ……… DM loading it’s guns……… print and be dammed!!

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Jan 6

MM ANON, Ok , a sycophantic visit to Canada 🇨🇦 House tomorrow in a packed London, they’ll be met by the Ambassador and no doubt Harry will be the customary three steps behind his 43 year old companion who will smile on queue and fake waves to nobody watching. After the same old same old they’ll disappear into the same car and return to the elusive residence somewhere in England. Don’t expect a rush towards the crowd.

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Jan 7

MM ANON, ……… she’s the (arm) pits……… go home Yank…… he’s a stone lighter ……… get off my f#@£%land ……… “ come to my birthday, never!!” ……… A state of emergency …… who dares bins ………… 🎼return to lender🎼……… “ it’s a struggle old thing”……… “ stop swearing at the tourists”…………… “ bloody tourists” …… Sydney!!……… “ I’m looking forward to next series” ……… “new stamps??”

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Jan 8

MM ANON ……… 🎼”And she must face the final curtain 🎼 The problem with NOT WEARING your wedding ring opens all conversation towards conjecture ………… 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 the firm always wins. Numerous whores and courtesans have tried to put a dent in the Monarchy over the past 2000 years most were decapitated. 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

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Jan 10

MM ANON. .…… GSTQAOBC …… don’t rock the bloat. …… pain-t stripper …… past, present and future ……… hide-a-Weymouth ……… W&K rule……… make a list ……… common- wealth……… nutmegs strange grandiosity ……… feed the handbitten …… king baby ………… love in a cold climate ……… NO MORE MONEY ……… a fall from race ……… Harry has left the building

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Jan 10

MM ANON, BP has just denied that M&H were frozen out. And where did she accumulate £500 million. Something really really stinks. All her life she’s grifted and whored. TPTB should take her down before the BRF are involved in her elaborate deception. DM poll on side of RF and PH, want MM to leave Britain and never return.

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Jan 11

MM ANON ……… blowing up a GAIL……… “ it’s like de-programming sir” ……” better have them inside the tent pissing out……… “it’s her pattern of behaviour” ………… back in the day ……… W&K step up……… William refuses to play ball……… that’s weak Charles …………” it’s all about money with her”……… “ all I’m saying is,you’re powerful family “ ………” another snifter LG”……… “ hold the calls Sydney”. 

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Jan 12

MM ANON ……… 🎼I don’t like Mondays🎼………” turn her bloody ugly face orf”. …… “ your call William!!” ……… bad advice ……… A military absence ……… “ yes,Pontcius Pilate” ……… Charles, The weakest link ……… “ your over generous ma’am”. ……… “ let them go, f**** em” ……… The taxpayers won’t like it ……… Canada caves……… RCMP……… BO offers a net- flick……… 🎼money,money,money 🎼…………… royal dis-appointments. ………… a tabloid tornado looms.

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Jan 13

MM ANON …………… take it or , take it!!……… no negotiation ………… Harry walks out ……… threats and lies ……… no comment…… tabloid carnage ……… more talk,talk. ……… commonwealth ambassador??? ……… no loss of financial support ……… MM gives up title ……… Harry keeps HRH. ……… archificial tells all……… W&K hold a huge party 🥳 🧣🤣🥳🥳🥳👀……… PP gives Sydney a knighthood ……… PP& Sydney get drunk. …………George bakes a cake. ……… Lottie has another sleepover. ……… Nanny gets a surprise

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jan 14

MM ANON ……… para-sight……… “ O ma’am, cunning very cunning”………… “ William is made of sterner metal”……… ( behind every great man) ……… spring offensive, the children!! …………” Lotties the key”……… the holy trinity ……… “freeze them out”………… “it’s all a smokescreen sir”…… “ yes, full steam ahead, ask Camilla “ ………… “ circle the wagons LG” …………” Burn that f**** olive branch, once bitten”………” a Canadian tour , with the children, OMG! Touché!!……… inde redire eruditionis Habes

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Jan 14

MM ANON … She new well in advance of Markle V Markle, that’s why she ran , doesn’t want the dirty laundry washed in view of a few hundred yards of BP. HARRY, You married trash. Trash whose father is going to testify against her. Goodness sake Harry, didn’t you see this , or weren’t You briefed by the intelligence service about her family and sordid history.

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Jan 15

MM ANON …………… OUR BEAUTIFUL DUCHESS OF CAMBRIDGE …………… ONE DAY OUR GLORIOUS QUEEN ……………WELL DONE KATE , YOU ASTOUNDED THE CRITICS ……… ONLY ONE CLASSY DUCHESS. 👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑

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Jan 15

MM ANON, MARKLE V MARKLE, won’t get to court, she will not Dare. She won’t bring the firm into disrepute. Unless she really wishes to harm the royal family and that’s a possibility. Will she permit her resentment for her father to drag her dirty washing through the royal courts of justice in the Stand. Is she that psychotic. Yes , I think she is, will Harry approve, I don’t think so.

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Jan 16

MM ANON,……… sea-plane PR. ……… where’s Harry?………… “ leaves 15million mansion visits poor shelter 🤣🤣🤣………… so broke,(woke)……… Paternal hurricane ……… Royal courts of Justice ……… “ write me a roll”………… “what Megan wants, Megan forgets”:……… Calipornia politics? ………… “she can be the new AOC” ……… she’ll campaign for Dems……… “OW ,tell all coming”. ……… negotiations,negotiations!!! …… W&K kill it !!!

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Jan 16

MM ANON,……… laugh and carry on……… isolation desperation ……… W&K leapfrog ……… not jaw jaw …… pseudo Trudeau ……… re-distribution …………” just scrapping by ,sausage” ……… LA NA. ……… gizza job……… ahhhhh’ the ubiquitous tape……… brotherly shove ………… “ the tour will proceed” ………… Diamond Dogs……… 🦂🦂🦂………… twice shy

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[soviet-history-detective]

Legasov You Did Not Know

I am going to share an ingot of solid gold right now, the kind that will break your heart and ruin your day.

I have unearthed this some time ago from a book that’s been long out of print. It is the translation of a truly heart-wrenching eulogy written by his late widow, Margarita Mihailovna Legasova. There is a lot of new information about Legasov in this piece, the kind of things only the wife of 30 years would know. 

Defenceless Victor—Margarita Legasova’s title of her reminiscences 

This title in Trud was followed by a quotation by Valery Legasov:

There are two colour photos hanging in my office at work. One of them is of a Nuclear Atomic Plant, the other of storks. These photos hang near each other as a reminder of the close relationship between life, nature and technology, letting one know beforehand of the fragility of life, about the necessity to keep it. I recalled these photos when I worked in Chernobyl eliminating the consequences of the accident at the NPP. Really, could storks in the future, living on the earth, feel themselves to be safe with modern industry? Is such a peaceful coexistence possible? And if possible, then what should be done to achieve this?

It was not until 10 years after the accident and eight years after Valery Legasov’s death that his widow published a short memoir in Trud that unequivocally confirmed that her husband had committed suicide on 27 April 1988. They had first met when students in the same institute and together worked at a students’ building construction project in what were termed in the USSR as the virgin lands. Under the title Defenceless Victor she described her memories of Legasov’s troubled times at Chernobyl and the period afterwards when he was, to a certain extent, ostracized by the establishment. She also includes interesting comments on what life was like for a senior scientist and his family in the Soviet system: very different from the experiences of Western scientists.

***

Last year we at last completed erection of a gravestone on his grave. This was with thanks to my son and daughter and a few supporters and colleagues of the Academician who helped to cover the expenses. That day when the sculptor invited me to his workshop and showed me the completed work, Valery returned home in the form of his bronze sculpture. He often had to travel away on business trips, we tried to be patient and wait for his return, but on 27 April 1988 he was transported away, already lifeless, forever. 

On Saturday 26 April 1986, Valery left for an ordinary business meeting where he learned about the Chernobyl NPP accident and that evening he was already 2 km away from the destroyed reactor. Life seemingly continued but terrible forebodings did not allow us to relax and stop worrying about his health. After 27 April our acquaintances began to say that badly irradiated victims of the accident had begun to be transported to Moscow to Hospital No. 6. Nobody could tell me when he would return. 

On the morning of 5 May about 8am there was a ring at the door bell and Valery entered in a borrowed suit of clothes and carrying a polythene bag with belongings rather than his normal case. He was very thin, with a dark face, red eyes and the palms of his hands were tanned black. He only had time to wash, change, breakfast and ask about his two grandchildren before he had to leave at 10am for a meeting. There was no time to tell us what was the state of events at Chernobyl. Then at lunchtime one of his assistants telephoned and said that Boris Scherbina wanted him again at Chernobyl. 

It was only when he returned home later that he was able to tell us that he had personally entered the most dangerous areas in the fourth reactor and how shaken he was at the criminal carelessness displayed at the NPP before the explosion. 

He next returned home on 13 May and it seemed to us that the biggest difficulties were in the past: but we soon understood that we were mistaken. By summer Valery was already in poor health, suffering from frequent headaches, chronic insomnia, nausea and stomach illness. It was difficult to recognize the earlier Valery in this morally depressed man. He was taken many times for medical investigation to Hospital No. 6 of the atomic establishment. Heart insufficiency, serious leukocytosis, problems with his myelocytes and bone marrow were diagnosed, as well as neurosis. But no official diagnosis was made of radiation syndrome, although I had no doubt that it was so. 

He became an Academician at the early age of 45 but some of the leading figures of Soviet science called him ‘A boy from the chemical suburbs’. However, he was interesting to work with and liked jokes, being famous as an amusing raconteur, although everyone knew that science was the principal interest of his life. His private family life was unknown to his colleagues. 

For five years, 1964–69, we lived in a flat of 22 square metres at Nizhegorodskaya Street. Though we could use only communal transportation we often made trips together with our two little children to Kuskovo, Ostankino and Arkangelskoye. In Tsaritsino we enjoyed ski holidays. It now seems that these were the happiest times of our lives. 

Valery was a car enthusiast for the last 10 years of his life and loved driving at very high speeds. He had always wanted a private car and his first, which was also his last, was a GAZ-25 Volga which we bought in 1977 for 9500 roubles when he was a Candidate Member of the Academy of Sciences. The initial capital for the purchase was his quota from his State Prize received for his achievements in the field of chemistry. 

We usually celebrated New Year in the circle of our family, sometimes in a rest house. One of these days a pure bred chau chau puppy appeared in our family and it was assumed that it was my New Year’s gift. Ma Lu Thomas, as she was called, would recognize only Valery as his owner and loved being in our car. She was inseparable from him and died just after Valery’s death. He was also an adoring grandfather to Misha and Valerik and invented little poems for them and played charades. 

As a boy he received a musical education and for many years was interested in listening and understanding classical music: Grieg, Sibelius, Shostakovich and Prokofiev. He was also fond of Schnitke. Over the years we bought tickets for many concerts in the Tschaikovsky Concert Hall of the Musical Conservatoire. Valery’s last concert was in Lithuania in the summer of 1987: for flute and organ. Little did I know that soon afterwards Valery would make a first attempt to commit suicide. He swallowed a handful of Triptizol tablets but that time the physicians managed to save him. 

In one Soviet TV programme is was said that Academician Legasov was a sincere believer. It is not so. From autumn 1987 he began to read the Bible and thought much about what he read. He was not baptised a Christian, but respected religion even though he was brought up an atheist. 

He considered that the East was weak and during his business trips he tried to see as much as possible of culture. He very much wanted to visit one of the sacred Islamic places, the mausoleum of Hoja Ahmed Iasavi, and the monument erected in honour of the ancient Turkish poet who lived in the twelfth century and was an advocate of Sufism. We visited the ancient city of Yami and worshipped at the grave of the philosopher, and Valery often recalled his verses:

Having met a man of another faith 

Don’t be evil to him

The God does not like people

With a cruel heart...

After their death punishment

Waits for them...

On his return from the Chernobyl NPP Valery told very sparingly, with tears in his eyes, about the unpreparedness for the accident. Those days nobody could precisely estimate the number of victims, but Legasov understood better than others, the lack of necessary means of health protection: pure water, food products, iodine prophylaxis. 

In August 1986 Valery Legasov presented a report to IAEA experts at a meeting in Vienna, about the causes and the consequences of the accident. His five-hour report was very well received and he returned home triumphal. But soon his mood changed. During the last two years after the accident he suffered great psychological trauma and his inner strength was broken. 

Twice he was nominated for a high award from the State, and twice the nomination was cancelled. He received a suggestion that he might take up a position with the IAEA in the field of nuclear technology: again, obstacles appeared. There was also the planned nomination for Director of a Research Centre on the Problems of Industrial and Nuclear Safety: this came to nothing. His election as a Member of the French Academy of Sciences was apparently assured and although we went to Paris on 4 February 1988, his last business trip, he did not receive Membership. Also, just after his Paris trip he was hospitalized with acute leukocytosis, pneumonia and severe neurosis. 

Chernobyl was not only a tragedy of international importance but it was also the personal tragedy of the gifted scientist Valery Legasov. 

Source: Chernobyl Record- The Definitive History of the Chernobyl Catastrophe, R F Mould

Notes:

I had a feeling there was more to Legasov than what we see in the written material out there (I read Russian at upper intermediate level so I have access to quite a lot of info, and I have read the magnificent in-depth science-engineering reform articles of him which were absolutely jaw-dropping in their visionary quality. Yet some of the information in this article blew my mind.  Legasov’s intellectual side is far deeper than anyone’s guess, that is evident.

All the documentary films and other material mention Legasov took sleeping pills in his first suicide attempt in 1987, but it turns out it was Triptizol, which is the brand name of Amitriptyline -a powerful antidepressant prescribed for major depression and where SSRI’s don’t work. It has been used as sleeping medicine in the US, but I have no clue if it had such use in the USSR. It is known Legasov developed a serious insomnia problem, but he was also diagnosed with major clinical depression. 

Margarita Legasova was a professor of chemistry, they both graduated from the prestigious Mendeleev School of Chemistry, where they met (as mentioned in the beginning.)

The dog’s name sounds like it’s mistranscribed or something, in Russian language articles written by Legasov’s close friends she is mentioned as Tomka. Poor thing stopped eating after she realized he was gone forever and died shortly after. 

[mummy-in-lockdown]

The start...

I’m pregnant! It’s a girl! She’s due May 2020! Less than 2 months left at work! BANG!! Coronavirus hits the UK. Lockdown began!

When I found out I was pregnant in September 2019 I was both extremely happy and very shocked. We’d only been married a month! I took over 20 tests to keep checking I was pregnant! I don’t think I fully believed it until the first scan.

I’d had a relatively good pregnancy in the first few months. Not a lot of morning sickness and coped quite well. The main thing I ‘suffered’ from was swollen feet, the children I taught said I had feet like an elephant! Cheeky I know!

I remember the day lockdown for me began - Tuesday 17th March. Prime Minister Boris Johnson held a news conference on the Monday to explain that Pregnant Women were classed in the vulnerable category and should take measures to protect themselves. I didn’t know what to do. Legally could I leave work? Should I leave to protect me and the baby? Would I still get paid? Or would I be forced to start my maternity? It was March! There was no way I wanted to start my maternity 2 months early! Safe to say I didn’t sleep well that night!

I got into work early on the 17th. I was definitely the first teacher in. I started to pack some of my things just in case I made the decision to leave. I just didn’t know what to do. By 10am the decision had been made for me. I was told to go home and thank God I was still getting paid!

Saying goodbye to my class was hard. I knew I wouldn’t be back till after my baby was born and it was hard that I never got the chance to say a proper goodbye.

Coming home that day I didn’t know what to do. So I sat and had a hot drink (never get a chance to do that midweek!!). It was a bit of a novelty. The next couple of days were relaxing. It felt normal to be honest, just kind of felt like it was half term. After two weeks, it hit me. It was probably because of my hormones but there was one particular day I just couldn’t stop crying. Sitting at home within the same four walls was hard. My husband was at work full time and I’d not left my house in over 14 days. I missed the freedom to visit people or even go to shops. I think it hit me more because I, along with everyone else, didn’t know how long this would last.

I had just reached over 32 weeks and things took a turn. I’d stopped feeling my baby move or kick. On the drive to the hospital I remember being very quiet and my husband was trying his best to keep my spirits up. We’ve been told on the phone that I would have to go into hospital on my own. I had not been to any appointments without him and this day of all days I needed him there. I got in the antenatal day unit and everyone was wearing masks, had gloves on and aprons on and it all felt quite scary. I had to turn my phone off as they affected the machines so I had no contact with my husband for the whole time I was in there. The nurses strapped me up to the monitor and took my blood pressure and left me to sit and wait. As I sat there I watched the monitor. I was watching my little girls heartbeat, thanking God that I knew she was still there. It was the biggest relief after days of not feeling her. The nurses explained that they needed me to come back every day for the next week at least to continue monitoring.

After a week of attending the unit the doctor came to see me and explained that due to me being diabetic and the fact that gradually every day my blood pressure was going higher they wanted me to continue to come in twice a week for the rest of my pregnancy. This was to have her monitored, to check my blood pressure, and have blood tests carried out.

As it continued my blood pressure had gone very high and I was put on medication to control it. I had also had a blood test which revealed that I was pre-eclampsia and they continued to monitor this. At 36 Weeks I had a scan to check on the baby’s size and was told that the baby was still in a breech position and I agreed to have a procedure called a External cephalic version (ECV). This is where a Doctor presses on your stomach to push the baby into the right place. There are risks to this procedure, one being a tear in the placenta or a change to the baby’s heartbeat. But I still made the decision to have it carried out. So on the 28th April I had to pack my hospital bags into the car just in case they had to bring the baby out. Again just like all the other times I had to go into hospital on my own. I had to read all the risks. I had to make all the decisions on my own.

I’m not going to lie or play it down but the ECV was so painful and so scary I’m not sure I could do it again. The doctor pushed on my stomach so hard I thought he was going to hurt the baby and I was convinced she was going to have to be brought out as an emergency. I remembered crying thinking all I wanted was my husband there to help me through it and to be with me in case anything went wrong. It’s not a situation I would wish on anyone. At the end of the procedure I sat there for another hour while they monitored the baby to check that everything was still ok. All I could do was pray. Pray that she was ok. Pray that she was safe.

The doctor eventually came back and explained that the ECV had failed and they had been unable to turn the baby around. This then meant I would have to have a Caesarean at about 39 weeks. I’ll be honest when my husband picked me up and we drove home I felt like a failure. Not being able to give birth naturally made me feel like a failure. I had a plan. A plan to give birth with my husband next to me. With all this time at home I had written what would be the most perfect birth plan. But it’s so true what people used to say to me, when you have a baby your birth plan goes out the window.

A few days later I was back in hospital for my weekly monitoring. My husband decided to go do some shopping as I was in hospital for about two hours each time. They put the monitor on me as usual, they took my blood pressure and checked my bloods from the previous time I was in. But this time it felt different, this time I knew something wasn’t right....

[impromptu-manifesto]

"Are female leaders better at fighting a pandemic?

I compiled death rates from the coronavirus for 21 countries around the world, 13 led by men and eight by women. The male-led countries suffered an average of 214 coronavirus-related deaths per million inhabitants. Those led by women lost only one-fifth as many, 36 per million. If the United States had the coronavirus death rate of the average female-led country, 102,000 American lives would have been saved out of the 114,000 lost. “Countries led by women do seem to be particularly successful in fighting the coronavirus,” noted Anne W. Rimoin, an epidemiologist at U.C.L.A.

 “New Zealand, 

Denmark, 

Finland, 

Germany, 

Iceland, 

Norway 

have done so well perhaps due to the leadership and management styles attributed to their female leaders.” Let’s start by acknowledging that there have been plenty of wretched female leaders over the years. Indeed, according to research I once did for a book, female leaders around the world haven’t been clearly better than male counterparts even at improving girls’ education or reducing maternal mortality. There has been solid research that it makes a difference to have more women on boards and in grass-roots positions, but evidence that they make better presidents or prime ministers has been lacking — until Covid-19 came along. It’s not that the leaders who best managed the virus were all women. 

But those who bungled the response were all men, and mostly a particular type: authoritarian, vainglorious and blustering. Think of 

Boris Johnson in Britain, 

Jair Bolsonaro in Brazil, 

Ayatollah Ali Khamenei in Iran and 

Donald Trump in the United States.

Virtually every country that has experienced coronavirus mortality at a rate of more than 150 per million inhabitants is male-led. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that some of the best-run places have been run by women: New Zealand, Germany, Taiwan,” mused Susan Rice, who was national security adviser under President Barack Obama. “And where we’ve seen things go most badly wrong — the U.S., Brazil, Russia, the U.K. — it’s a lot of male ego and bluster.”

I think the divergence has a great deal to do with that ego and bluster.

“We often joke that men drivers never ask for directions,” observed Dr. Ezekiel Emanuel of the University of Pennsylvania. “I actually think there’s something to that also in terms of women’s leadership, in terms of recognizing expertise and asking experts for advice, and men sort of barreling ahead like they got it.” He has a point. Those leaders who handled the virus best were those who humbly consulted public health experts and acted quickly, and many were women; 

in contrast, male authoritarians who botched the response were suspicious of experts and too full of themselves.

“I really get it,” Trump said when he visited the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention in March. Surrounded by medical experts, he added, “Maybe I have natural ability,” and he wondered aloud if he should have become a scientist. (Given that Trump said in January that Covid-19 was “totally under control,” he has his answer. And peer review might not have been kind to his ideas about bleach.) While women have generally outshone men as international leaders, that does not seem true within the United States. Some female governors have done better, others worse, so there isn’t an obvious gender gap at home. It’s also possible that this isn’t about female leaders but about the kind of country that chooses a woman to lead it. Companies with more female executives on average perform better than those with fewer women, but analysts think that the reason isn’t just the brilliance of women leaders. Rather, companies that are culturally open to having senior women are also more willing to embrace other innovations, and it may be this innovative spirit that leads to higher profitability. Likewise, countries willing to elect female prime ministers may be those more inclined to listen to epidemiologists. Yet I think that there’s also a difference in the leadership itself. “Women lead often in a very different style from men,” said Margot Wallstrom, a former Swedish foreign minister, citing examples from Norway, Germany and New Zealand of women with low-key, inclusive and evidence-based leadership. Wallstrom also noted that public health is a traditional “home turf” concern for many women leaders. Grant Miller, an expert in health economics at Stanford University, found that as states, one by one, granted the vote to women in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, those states then also invested more in sanitation and public health — saving some 20,000 children’s lives a year. Boys were thus huge beneficiaries of women’s suffrage. One trap for female politicians is that brashness can be effective for male candidates, but researchers find that male and female voters alike are turned off by women who seem self-promotional. That forces women in politics to master the art of communicating effectively in a low-key way — just what’s needed in a pandemic. “Perhaps the skills that have led them to reach the top,” said Rimoin, the U.C.L.A. epidemiologist, “are the same skills that are currently needed to bring a country together.” ============================= The Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: letters@nytimes.com. ============================= Nicholas Kristof has been a columnist for The Times since 2001. He has won two Pulitzer Prizes, for his coverage of China and of the genocide in Darfur. You can sign up for his free, twice-weekly email newsletter and follow him on Instagram.

[dank-hp--memes]

A Fate Worse than Death

This is a few chapters long...

Tags: @johnlockismyreligion @royaltydowntonandlife

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It was the middle of the morning, around seven when Ulana left the hotel. She often went out to take her own readings and do impromptu calculations. This morning was no different. Dressed in a creme blouse, a black skirt, and heels, Ulana made her way through the exclusion zone, taking some readings and recording the numbers. She had made her way to the outskirts of Pripyat, walking alone. Little did she know, an animal control team was in the same area with a rather trigger happy liquidator. It happened in a split second. Ulana rounded a corner, there was a loud bang, then silence. She felt a searing pain in her lower chest before falling onto her back, her legs were beginning to go numb. The grimy water from the puddle she had fallen into slowly soaks into her clothes as Ulana gasps for air, her lips parted slightly, her chest seems to spasm as her need for oxygen increases. Ulana stairs, wide-eyed, up at the greyish blue sky. Her body aches with an immense searing pain that originates in her lower chest. She can feel her warm blood soak into her blouse, leaving it stained a crimson red. She can hear the voices of the liquidators who were a part of the animal control squad, but they seem distant and muffled. Almost as if the liquidators were in another room, far away from her.

The clear sky reminds Ulana of her childhood. She would spend hours upon hours laying in the soft grass of the Belorussian countryside when she would visit her grandmother's house. She could watch the sky for hours, often lost in thought. Her grandmother would often scold her for slacking off on her chores, or simply for spending too much time lying on the ground and doing nothing. The sun had always warmed the long grass, making it a fairly nice spot to lay and relax. 

As Ulana laid there, her mind wandering about her thoughts, she could not help but think of Valery. Recalling all of the time they had spent together. The many seconds they had spent together in bed, with minimal clothing on, holding each other close. Valery always wrapped his arms around Ulana's middle and held her close. He would press soft kisses on her slender shoulders and up her neck. He would run his hand down her stomach to rest it on her hip. They shared more than just many sweet nothings in their hotel rooms. Ulana felt her breath hitch in her throat as she thought of the sweet and dorky smile Valery always had when he looked over her shoulder at her in the mirror after they got out of the shower. He would place his hands on her hips and rest his chin on her shoulder, whispering many sweet nothings to her as he looked at her in the mirror. She remembered the way looking into his icy blue eyes sent shivers down her spine and made her hair stand on end. As the world around her began to fade and her ears began to ring, Ulana could only hope to see Valery one more time. She felt someone lift her up off the ground and she could see the outline of a figure before everything went black. 

One of the liquidators had lifted Ulana off the ground and was carrying her to the truck. She needed immediate medical attention, for it was clear that, along with her blood, the life was draining out of her. The liquidators drove her back to camp, arguing in a panic. Their loud voices make Ulana stir a little, but she does not wake up. Her skin seems to become paler by the second. Upon their arrival back in camp, Ulana is handed off to two soldiers and flown to the nearest hospital equipped to treat her in Kyiv. The flight is long and bumpy, and Ulana is quickly losing blood. A cold sweat is soaking her clothes as she lays there unconscious. So far, no one has thought to notify any of the higher-ups, except General Pikalov, who is handling the situation on his own. Upon their arrival in Kyiv, Ulana is swarmed by nurses and doctors who quickly take her back to an operating room. They quickly begin transfusing blood, but it is hardly fast enough. They cut off Ulana's clothes and quickly begin operating, doing their best to stop her bleeding. They are extremely careful as they remove the bullet, for it had been resting over Ulana's spinal cord, but it is too late. The damage had already been done. She would have nerve damage in her upper body and there was a chance she would never walk again if she even survived. Hours had passed, and Ulana was still in critical condition. Her poor heart had stopped twice, only to be shocked back to life. The doctors managed to finish the surgery and close Ulana up, but, no matter what they did, the damage had been done. Ulana was taken to a small and cramped room in the ICU, it looked more like a supply closet than a proper room. She was hooked up to an insane amount of machines. They all served to keep her alive. A tube had been shoved down her throat and was breathing for her. One of the monitors was monitoring her heart rate and oxygen levels. Another was simply controlling her morphine drip and IV. There was also a feeding tube stuffed down Ulana's nose. She was still receiving blood and platelets so that just added to the whole mess of machines and IV's. They kept Ulana heavily sedated to make sure she was not in any pain. Other than that, there wasn't much that could be done for her. 

A few days passed. Valery had assumed Ulana had gone back to Minsk, as she did sometimes when she needed to do something important that could not be done in Pripyat. He had no idea that Ulana was on the verge of death and that he may never speak to her again. 

There was a knock on Valery's hotel room door. It was from Boris. He looked at Valery and Valery's heart sank. He knew from Boris' expression that something was wrong. He stood in the doorway, too nervous to ask, not truly wanting to know. 

"You should sit down…" Boris croaks, his voice dry, for he dreaded breaking the news to Valery. 

"What happened?" Valery asked, not moving from the doorway. 

Had something happened with the reactor? Was there another accident at the plant? Did something happen with the reactor core?

Valery mind was racing, but Ulana being injured, let alone shot and dying never crossed his mind, not even once. 

"Valery, you should really sit down" Boris' voice came again, interrupting Valery's thoughts.

Valery retreated into the room, followed by Boris. He could sense the older man's nervousness as the tension in the air grew. Very gingerly placed himself on the sofa, looking up at Boris.

"It's about Khomyuk…" Boris begins

He pauses the words trapped in his throat. Valery leaned in in anticipation. What had happened? Had Ulana been arrested again? Or was she in some sort of lab accident? Did she have radiation poisoning?

"A few days ago she was involved in an accident… she was shot in the chest" Boris says, stopping there, not knowing how to continue.

Valery's heart seemed to have disappeared. He could feel his throat tighten and his mouth goes dry as his lips parted to reply. Never in his worst nightmares could he imagine Ulana, his lovely Ulana, being shot.

"What?" Is all he manages to say, his eyes wide as he looks up at Boris, not truly believing him.

It couldn't be. It just couldn't be. They must have had the wrong person. Ulana had to be okay. He needed her. Not just to help him with Chernobyl. It was like he did not know how to breathe without her. He needed her to survive. She was the only thing he truly needed in his life. She was like his other half. She was his soulmate. She understood every word from Valery's lips, and he understood every word from hers. She was also the most wonderful cuddler. Her body always seemed to radiate heat and her skin was soft like silk. Not to mention that especially soft spot just over her hip. It was the perfect place for him to rest his hand and trace his fingers over while they cuddled. Valery suddenly looked up at Boris. Boris had said someone, but Valery had been too enveloped in his thoughts to comprehend what he had said. He simply stared blankly at Boris, his mouth slightly agape. 

"She is in the Kyiv trauma centre. She is in critical condition. The bullet ripped through her at an odd angle. It tore through her liver, and one of her lungs before resting over her spinal cord. Her heart stopped twice during the surgery, leaving her brain without oxygen for an extended amount of time… so, if she does wake up, she may not be the Ulana you and I know" Boris says, trying to make sure Valery mentally prepares himself. 

Boris looks at the carpet for a moment, his eyes studying the grimy, horribly patterned carpeting. Over the phone, the doctors had said much more. Ulana could be brain dead or mentally impaired from how long her heart had stopped. She could be paralyzed. She likely had nerve damage. She may not recover. She could get a blood clot and die of a stroke or a pulmonary embolism. She could suffer a heart attack and her heart could stop again. Ulana could die before they even got close to Kyiv, fuck she could be dead as they speak. She could die of internal bleeding if the clotting agent they gave her does not take effect, for the radiation exposure had caused her some issues with her blood. There were many possibilities with what could happen to Ulana, and most of them had far from good outcomes. 

Valery sat in silence, processing what Boris had just said. He can hardly imagine Ulana, his Ulana, being shot in the chest. He could feel cold sweat dripping down his back as he placed his trembling hands on his knees. Valery took a deep breath before standing up. 

"How was she shot…" He mumbles, a dark rage slowly building within him. 

Boris pauses for a moment, surveying Valery, contemplating how much to tell him. He opens his mouth a few times before simply sighing. What on earth was he going to tell Valery?

"It was an accident with some animal control liquidators…" Boris says, not wanting to say too much. 

He feared to upset Valery more, for he did not care to see him in such a state. Valery simply swallows and nods, unable to find the words to respond. His jaw is clenched and his hands balled into fists. Valery's mind is surprisingly blank.

"I need to see her," Valery says, his voice flat and his tone dark.

His eyes are burning into Boris from behind his smudged glasses, but behind all of the rage, Boris can see the fear and helplessness that plagues Valery. 

"There's a helicopter waiting to take us to Kyiv…" Boris replies. 

The next few minutes are a blur. Valery hardly remembers leaving the hotel room, let alone walking out to the helicopter. The animal control team is standing outside the hotel with Pikalov, who looks quite unsettled.

Valery looks at them, a few stains of Ulana's blood that they had been unable to wash out still on their clothes.

"Which one of you shot comrade Khomyuk?" Boris begins, planning on having them sent away.

A rather small young lad steps forward, cowering in fear in front of Boris. Boris opens his mouth to speak hut is interrupted.

"How could you shoot her? She is not some animal!" Valery shouts, his voice shaking with anger.

An older man, obviously a soldier steps forward, his chiselled face, looking rather irritated. He was much taller than Valery and rather intimidating. 

"Nobody told us there would be someone taking measurements. She just appeared out of nowhere. It startled us. She wasn't wearing anything protective, and wandering around alone was rather stupid" he mutters, not wanting to defend himself to some stupid scientist.

That was it, the soldier had crossed the line. Nobody called Ulana, his Ulana stupid. 

"She has a name…" Valery growls his face bright red.

It looks as though Valery is ready to kill them with his bare hands. Boris grabs Valery's shoulder to pull him away. Valery's reaction had surprised Boris, and he was unsure of what Valery was capable of in such a state.

"So what? We all have names? Do you think the higher-ups care about what happens to us? Why should we care what happens to her" the soldier barks, irritation rising in his voice?

The other members of the animal control team have backed away, rather scared of Valery's reaction. 

"She is one of the most important people here… AND YOU'VE SHOT HER! YOU SHOT THE LOVE OF MY LIFE!" Valery shouts, finally admitting that he loves Ulana out loud. 

The tension in the air seems to thicken. Everyone has gone silent, even Valery. He had surprised himself by saying that. Never in a million years did he think he would admit, in front of people, that Ulana was the love of his life. Suddenly, Boris' hand was back on Valery's shoulder and pulling him back onto the helicopter. Valery did not protest, he was too busy being stuck deep within his thoughts. Valery aimlessly plopped down into one of the seats, his elbows going to rest on his knees, and his head resting on his trembling hands. He was silent except for a few stifled sobs. Boris did not take his eyes off Valery throughout the entire flight. He knew that if Ulana did not get better, Valery would never recover.

[trashboatprince]

@gruvu sent me a prompt and I was inspired.

Enjoy the Sammy/Henry content!

--

So far so good on attempting to edit the script.

Henry had found a way to shorten his time in the music hall and had actually gotten a reaction out of Sammy this time when he tried to cross the inky hallway. Throwing a can of soup from one of the alters that musician had set up worked enough to startle him, but Sammy still escaped.

Even yelling at him after breaking into the sanctuary didn’t do much but to make him tilt his head like a confused dog, but it was better than being ignore or silently stared at.

But now Henry had to try, he had to figure something out before he was made into a sacrifice. As he walked down the hall to the lobby, he made sure to stop just a foot or so from the spot he remembered writing ‘ouch’ on. As he did, Henry turned quickly, just in time to see Sammy come towards him with that damn dustpan.

“Sammy, wait! It’s me, Henry-!” He was suddenly struck and brought to the ground. 

However, before he blacked out, Henry noted that the sheep song wasn’t quoted this time. No, he heard Sammy say something else, “Henry? A familiar name, my little sheep...”

--

Henry groaned loudly, feeling his face pressed against old, rotting wood. Well, this is different from normal, typically he’s tied up to a pole, about to hear Sammy’s speech. Actually, where was Sammy?

He opened his eyes, finding himself on the floor of the sacrifice room. Oh shit, did he miss the whole thing? No, he’d have been beaten to death by Searchers if that was the case, it’s happened twice in the past. With a huff, he pushed himself up, trying not to move too fast, his head was killing him.

The door to his left open, and Henry saw Sammy come out, humming to himself as he toyed with a length of old rope. He stopped and looked at Henry. “You’re awake.”

“Brilliant observation there, Lawrence.” Henry frowned, moving to stand, using the pole he was normally tied up to for support.

“How do you know my name?” Sammy asked, stepping carefully closer to him. “I have not heard anyone say my last night in so long... the angel remembers my first name, I think.”

“She does, she tells me you use to be a very handsome man.” Henry replied as he rubbed at the dry blood in his hair. “Heh, I’m sure it’s still true. Oh God, my head hurts... did you hit me with the corner?”

Sammy was quiet as he observed the former animator. “Before... you informed me that you are named Henry. Yes, that name is... familiar, so familiar, has my lord mentioned it to me before? His whispers are sometimes hard to recall...”

Henry shook his head. “Sammy, we’ve done this song and dance a million times. You recognize my face, but you ignore that, and then you spew some bull crap about Bendy being your lord and that you’re going to be free!”

“I will be free of this i-”

“Yes, yes, this ‘inky prison’.” The animator rolled his eyes as he stepped towards him, he noticed that Sammy took a step back but that didn’t stop him. “Bendy doesn’t do anything for you except turn you into a puddle! And you want to know what happens after he does that?”

Before Sammy can reply, Henry is suddenly too close to the prophet. He’s backed the man up to the door he had come from. “He makes you lose all faith in him and you go even more insane than before, you try to kill me, only to get killed again! And sometimes... sometimes...”

Sammy flinches when the other’s hands slap down onto his shoulders, gripping them. “Sometimes I have to be the one to kill you, because you’re nothing but a Searcher, forever wearing this stupid mask.”

“I-I... I need it, to be the p-perfect form.” Sammy stumbles over his words, no sacrifice has done anything like this before. He gasps when one of the hands moves to his mask and carefully removes it from his face. He shoves at Henry, covering his face. “Don’t look at me! No one can see my face!”

“Stop it.” Henry tossed the old wooden mask aside, not even bothering to see where it landed. “Sammy Lawrence, I’ve seen your face. I’ve seen it so many times without that mask, even before everything went to hell here, before the Ink Machine.”

This seemed to catch Sammy’s attention. The silence was Henry’s cue to continue. “We use to work together. You use to have a tiny office up on the first floor, it was practically a broom closet, and I had a corner of from the front door. We’d visit each other often, talking about Joey behind his back.”

“Joey... Drew, yes... I remember him.”

“Do you remember an animator?” Henry asked carefully, glancing at the axe that Sammy had left aside, just in case if Sammy tried anything. “Do you remember the man who created Bendy?”

Sammy was quiet, carefully removing the inky hands from his face. “I... think, I remember a man... kept to a desk a lot. Drawing all the time, always my lord, with perfect skills. He asked to draw me once, for Boris, I played my banjo.”

This made Henry blink, and he felt embarrassed suddenly. Of course, of all things, Sammy would remember the time Henry made an ass out of himself while drawing Sammy playing the banjo for practice! But this was good, this was a start! “Does the name Stein mean anything to you?”

The musician seemed conflicted, at least as far as Henry could tell with such a face like that. “Stein... Haw... I remember!” He exclaimed, turning to fully face Henry, pointing a finger at him. “Henry Hawthorne Stein! You, you were him! The artist in the corner!”

“Took you long enough.” Henry replied with a slight smile as he approached the man. “What do you remember?”

“That you were one of the only saving graces of this horrible place.” The musician replied. “I remember... you left, and that idiot did things, horrible things...”

He looked at his hands, conflicted once more. “What you must think of me, Henry, you make it sound like we’ve been through all this so many times before.”

“Joey’s put us through hell over and over, I don’t know how he does it, but he has me repeating this, and every time I try to talk to you, he keeps my mouth shut. But I did something, I changed the story, and I think,”

With slow movements, Henry placed his hands on Sammy’s face. This was the first time he had ever touched the man in this form, he felt cold and wet, just like the ink, but he was solid. “I think that I can keep changing things. Just let me help you.”

“Only Bendy can change me, free me.”

“Well, too bad, Bendy’s not here and you’ve got me. Hold still.” He started to carefully wipe at the ink. It felt disgusting, but he had to try, he had to know if there was a chance to save this man. The ink ran down his arms and through his fingers as he tried to remove it all. Bit by bit, he started to find features under the thick liquid, spotting the tip of a nose first, then he found cheeks, a mouth.

Sammy gagged and spat up thick ink on him once he removed the ink from his mouth, how had the man been speaking to him this whole time? Uhg, he shouldn’t question things in this place.

Just as he moved to remove more, he noticed that Sammy was working to try and free his arms of the stuff, one hand was free, and sporting the missing finger.

Henry dragged his thumb over where he thought an eye was, seeing it closed. It blinked open, looking at him, widening. He did the same to the other eye, then moved to try and work on his hair, only to feel arms wrap around him.

He paused, and Henry did not move. As much as he wanted to say something, he felt like Sammy really needed this, that this was his way of thanking him without saying it. With a small sigh, he returned to hug, feeling Sammy tighten it, as if he was afraid that the moment he let go he’d return to being trapped in that casing of ink. 

Well, Henry wasn’t going to let that happen, he wasn’t going to lose this man again. It’s gonna take a lot of work to keep freeing this man from the studio, but Henry was willing to put in the effort. No need for Bendy saving him, no relying on Joey ever changing the script, this was Henry’s story now, and Sammy was coming along with him to the ending.

[star-going-supernova]

Very much spoilery for Chapter 5, so read no further if you still haven’t finished the game. My Other!Bendy AU was an exercise in me finding out how much I like writing out AU ideas in not-story format, so here’s another one. It’s ‘canon’ with the loop, but I’ve put a much happier, more hopeful spin on things. Enjoy!

It only takes a dozen loops or so before Henry realizes what’s going on. He has to relive his journey through the depths of the studio, no matter how long it takes or how much he tries to change his fate. He’s trapped, always forced forward and down. 

It only takes another time or two for him to realize that the other players in this game of Joey’s that they’ve all been forced into are catching on as well. Their scripts start to change, they hesitate and falter, and they are confused and lost and afraid. 

Henry—whatever or whoever he might be—cares. He’s gotten to know the characters he used to draw, he’s become reacquainted with the toons his old friends became, he sees the way Bendy flinches at the sight of the The End tape. And he will not stand for it.

The next time he walks through the studio’s front door, he’s ready. He’s had a lot of time to think about what he can do to help, and while he hasn’t found a way to prevent the loop from happening—not that he’ll stop looking for one—he has an idea of how he can make the whole experience a little less of a nightmare.

One by one, he tells everyone he encounters what he knows. From the Searchers and Sammy to Alice and the Butcher gang to Allison, Tom, and the Lost Ones to Bendy himself, he explains his idea. By the time he faces Bendy in the throne room, the whole studio is on board.

When he steps into the studio after that—ever more aware of the situation with every passing loop—his arrival begins the game he’d come up with. 

Dying, he’d realized long ago, didn’t hurt him. The ink didn’t faze him anymore, and he had no trouble returning to life time and time again. Even the sound of his own garbled voice echoing around him was easily ignored. 

And since attempting to kill him was what most of the studio was forced into doing, why not make it fun? 

It was a simple point system. If you managed to kill Henry, you got a point. There were bonus points for getting him twice in a row, or killing him without taking a hit yourself, or depending on if you did it solo or in teams. 

Through each other and the ink, the tallying up of points would eventually be passed to Bendy, who would record them in the throne room. When Henry returned to play the The End tape, the game was officially over, and whoever had the most points won. Bendy would travel back up to the first floor where they kept score of the winners, leaving Henry to take a nap on the throne or admire the cartoons playing on the walls.

While the others initially had some reservations about casually murdering Henry for a game, once he reassured them that it really didn’t hurt or anything, they slowly got more and more into it. 

One of the first few times, Henry managed to drag a sheet along with him to his final battle with Bendy, leaning into Bendy’s path when he charged him in the grid room like a matador teasing a bull. Bendy collapsed from wheezy laughter the first time he did it, and that was one of their longest ‘battles’ to date.

And from there, they all started pushing the boundaries of what the loop allowed them to do. Sitting outside the Little Miracle Stations, chatting while Henry got his breath back. Starting and stopping the elevator during the fall like a rollercoaster ride. Writing increasingly ridiculous messages on the wall in ink, and then once Henry started bringing the Viewing Tool through the loops, in invisible ink as well. 

Henry once followed Bendy down a hallway with a cutout held in front of him. Bendy obliging acted as if he didn’t notice anything amiss. 

Sammy challenged Henry to a music competition one day, playing with the mostly messed up instruments while Jack Fain warbled along next to them with a group of Searchers acting as the backup singers. 

Norman occasionally shut the light on his projector head off and held still in some dark corner of the maze. Henry would protest vehemently when told he screamed like a little girl the first time the looming form of the Projectionist jumped out at him, but the whole studio knew it was true. 

Bendy got into the occasional habit of interrupting other toons’ attempts at killing Henry, going so far as to physically fight Norman off a few times. 

Once, and only once, someone kept moving the animatronic Bendy around while Henry worked on opening the haunted house. Every time he turned a corner, there it was, scaring the living daylights out of him. It was something no one ever confessed to, though it was widely appreciated as one of the few pranks that managed to actually get a reaction out of Henry, who’d gotten so used to being snuck up on and such.

There was one loop where no one killed Henry except Henry himself. It was the only time he’d ever won the game, and no one could stop teasing him about it, since the death was from eating every single can of bacon soup from the ground level to the throne room. He’d keeled over inside Allison and Tom’s hideout, and before that loop was even over, the whole studio knew that Henry’s hard work and dedication had payed off, making it worth it to everyone for holding back on their attacks against him. Bendy hadn’t even been able to do the final battle, helplessly curled up on the floor from laughter, waving at Henry to just go ahead and play the tape. 

Most memorable was the time Henry came charging into the studio, whooping ecstatically with blood on his knuckles, hollering that he’d finally gained enough control of his body in Joey’s apartment to punch the man. 

Every loop, without fail, Henry would add a tally mark to one of the walls on the first floor. He’d long since lost count, hundreds of little lines spanning across the wood. It wasn’t the happiest thing to look at, but there were a lot of good times and fun memories behind those tallies, memories that he wouldn’t give up for anything. 

And then, one day, Bendy shoved him back after he’d turned on the Ink Machine, and the wretched, inescapable impulse to run away didn’t consume him. Instead, Henry laid there on the floor, ink streaming down the walls on either side of him, and stared up at the ceiling. He waited for the feeling to come, for his unchanging fate to pick up his limbs like a puppet on strings, but nothing happened.

“Henry?” Bendy asked, leaning over the board he’d popped up from behind. 

“I don’t feel like running,” Henry said. “I mean. There’s nothing making me run.” 

Bendy vanished briefly, a wall portal reappearing beside Henry for him to step out of. Crouching, Bendy poked his shoulder. Henry didn’t move. 

They stared at each other. 

“Do…” Bendy started slowly, hesitantly, “do you think the loop’s broken?” 

Henry sat up. Still no urge. “Take me to Alice,” he finally said. 

A new portal formed, and Bendy waved him into it. 

Alice was in the middle of tea with Allison and Tom when they arrived. “What,” she said. Tom dropped his teacup. “That’s not…” Allison whispered. 

“Possible?” Henry finished. “Trust me, I’m just as surprised as you are.” 

They visited the whole studio in this manner, and each one expressed their shock just as plainly as the last. Eventually, though, the loop seemed to kick back in, and Henry was helpless to resist as he was forced away from his friends. Being on Level 9 at the time, the loop started from there, entirely skipping the whole section in the music department, and the part in Boris’s safehouse. 

And so it went. With each consecutive loop, Henry went longer and longer without its influence. The day when he never felt it again was one they all looked forward to. Henry promised himself that when it finally arrived, he’d destroy the The End tape once and for all, hopefully preventing the loop from taking control ever again. 

But until that day came, he had his patient friends, his increasing tally marks, his one win ever, and an ‘old friend’ that he still punched each and every time he passed through Joey’s apartment. And for someone who’d had nothing but his own two hands and a persistent concussion just a couple hundred loops ago, Henry was pretty happy with the way things were turning out.

Not all dreams come true? Maybe. But then, maybe this one just might. 

[citizenscreen]

You’ve probably heard that the schedule for the Turner Classic Movies Film Festival (TCMFF) 2019  was published earlier this week. TCMFF is scheduled for April 11-14 and this year’s theme is Follow Your Heart: Love at the Movies. As you can imagine, such a broad theme allows for all sorts of relationships in movies and in that sense the offerings don’t disappoint. There’s something for everyone – from traditional romance to bromance to love in pure evil form. What’s important is that for the 10th consecutive year, classic movie fans will have a love affair with movies in Hollywood.

As has become tradition on this blog I’ve put together my planned schedule for discussion sake. I tried to go a bit beyond my comfort level this year choosing new-to-me fare in more slots than ever before with a dear coming home at the end the festival. This will be my seventh year in Hollywood for this event and the excitement has not waned. There’s simply a lot to look forward to.

Also exciting is the fact that I will be playing a dual role at TCMFF 2019. I’ve mentioned my media credentials to cover TCMFF in the past and that is true again this year. In addition, I will also be one of about 30 Brand Ambassadors. I don’t know many details of this post yet, but follow me on social media and we’ll learn together.

Now to my picks…I hope some of you will chime in with yours. If you’re a blogger and publish a pre-TCMFF post be sure to leave me the link in the comments so I can include it in this post. I enjoy comparing people’s picks and think others do as well. Here we go…

  Thursday, April 11

I’m betting the biggest crowd aside from Grauman’s for the official opening night feature, will be at the Egyptian for Howard Hawks’ enjoyable Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953) and its iconic images. Although I adore that movie, which features Marilyn Monroe in standout comedic form, I plan to attend the 35MM screening of Hobart Henley’s Night World (1932), which I’ve never seen. Sara Karloff, daughter of the legendary Boris Karloff, will do the introductory honors alongside writer Susan King. Spending some time at a Karloff speakeasy is simply too good to pass up and it’s a fantastic way to start the festival.

Next I’ll likely meet bunches of people I know at the Egyptian for the Nitrate screening of Irving Reis’ The Bachelor and the Bobbysoxer (1947) starring my love Cary Grant, the lovely Myrna Loy, and the popular Shirley Temple. This is the first of several movies featuring Cary Grant this weekend and I plan to stare at him every chance I get. Almost.

  Friday, April 12

Friday morning poses a bit of a dilemma for me. There’s the film noir staple The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946) opposite pre-code Merrily We Go to Hell (1932) opposite Judy Garland’s only drama appearance in The Clock (1945) opposite the enjoyable High Society (1956). I decided on Dorothy Arzner’s pre-code featuring Sylvia Sydney, Fredric March and a pre-stardom Cary Grant. How can I go wrong with that combination?

Following that movie I’ll have a bit of time before the Club TCM presentation of The Descendants: Growing Up in Hollywood. This presentation may be as close as I’ll ever get to the idea of “Legacies” I’ve been hoping for, which calls for a panel of children of classic stars. In attendance at The Descendants presentation will be Cary Grant’s daughter, Jennifer. This means I’ll be one degree away from the greatest Hollywood has ever seen.

The next Friday block poses another slight problem. My choice of screening is Garson Kanin’s delightful, My Favorite Wife (1940) at the Egyptian, but skipping Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans (1927) is not easy. The reason I’m going to see Cary and Irene Dunne, besides the fact they’re wonderful, is due to the next screening, which will likely be a popular one.

For the 5:30 to 8:00 PM block on Friday I plan to watch the new-to-me Vanity Street (1932) directed by Nick Grinde followed by John Reinhardt’s Open Secret (1948). I think these two films will have long lines because the others screening in the slot are much newer movies. That means die-hard “old” movie lovers have my choices as their choices as well. Robert Wise’s beloved The Sound of Music (1965) is also screening in the slot and that eases my worries a bit.

Next I go to go see Jean Negulesco’s Road House (1948) starring Ida Lupino and Richard Widmark. The other movie I seriously considered in this slot is the premiere restoration of Anthony Mann’s Winchester ’73 (1950). Watching at least one important Western at the festival has become a tradition for me. If I skip Winchester the tradition will be broken, which is tough.

This year I am making it a point to attend at least one midnight screening and it looks like Joselito Rodríguez’s Santo Contra Cerebro Del Mal (1961) is the choice. It’s exciting to watch a movie in Spanish at TCMFF and, although I am familiar with the Santo superhero character, I’ve never seen one of his films. This should be a heck of a lot of fun.

  Saturday, April 13

What hit me immediately upon perusing the Saturday morning line-up is that I might not make it into Grauman’s at all the entire festival. Can you imagine? One of the two golden age films screening at the historic theatre, Fred Zinnemann’s From Here to Eternity (1953) opens the day there, but I am going for science fiction and Rudolph Maté’s When Worlds Collide from 1951. The movie stars John Hoyt, Richard Derr, Barbara Rush, and Peter Hansen. Rush will be in attendance to introduce the film with Dennis Miller. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Barbara Rush on a couple of occasions and she couldn’t be more down to Earth, a truly lovely person who will no doubt offer interesting tidbits about the making of When Worlds Collide. 

From possible world annihilation I will venture into the jungles for the special presentation of the 85-year old Tarzan and His Mate (1984), the only directing outing by legendary art director, Cedric Gibbons. One of the first film courses I ever took was taught by a film historian and author obsessed with the nude swim scene and its artistry. I’ve seen it, of course, several times, but never on a big screen so this one is exciting.

Before you continue down my schedule, know that the rest of Saturday is a web of sacrifices for me. Foregoing a few screenings to ensure entrance in the ones I cannot miss is the order of this day. With that I continue…

Following Tarzan I’ll be visiting with Irene Dunne and Charles Boyer in Leo McCarey’s Love Affair (1939) celebrating its 80th anniversary. This will be introduced by Dana Delaney who is a great classics fan in her own right. Although I have no reservation about enjoying this film, which I haven’t seen in quite some time, it would not be my choice if not for the rest of the day’s offerings. For instance, I think I’d enjoy the Tom Mix Double Feature immensely and would attend that if not for Rowland Brown’s Blood Money (1933) hailed as “the ultimate pre-Code film” on the TCMFF page and I’ve never seen it. Blood Money follows in the next slot and if I see Tom Mix I won’t have time to get to it. That’s the deciding factor for me. I’ll also be truly sorry to miss the Hollywood Home Movies presentation at Club TCM yet again.

The worst block of the entire 2019 TCMFF for me as far as decisions go is the Saturday evening offerings after Blood Money. My good friend Laura of Laura’s Miscellaneous Musings mentioned the rarity that will be the screening of George Marshall’s Life Begins at 40 (1935) and she should know as she takes full advantage of the numerous classic screenings available in the Los Angeles area. The problem, my dears, is that if I go to Life Begins at 40 I won’t make it to what I believe will be an unforgettable experience, Mervyn LeRoy’s The Bad Seed (1956) poolside with Patty McCormack in attendance. I’m super excited about this one as I consider McCormack’s portrayal of Rhoda one of the all-time great child performances and an impressionable evil. That said, this decision comes at a great cost because while I’ll be watching this terrific film, Cary Grant and Ingrid Bergman, two stars that mean the world to me, will be Indiscreeting in a nearby theater. This actually hurts to think about, but this will be my first ever screening by the pool at the Roosevelt and I couldn’t look forward to it more.

  Sunday, April 14

Another tough choice opens Sunday with Peter Lorre’s fantastic performance in Karl Freund’s Mad Love (1935) screening opposite George Cukor’s Holiday (1938), but in the end Cary Grant wins as does Diane Baker’s introduction. Touch one though.

My choice for this next block may change depending on the TBA. I’m hoping it’ll be Indiscreet in which case that’s where I’ll be. Barring that happening I may well forego movies and attend two Club TCM presentations in a row, which would be a first: Hollywood Love Stories and The Complicated Legacy of Gone With the Wind are both enticing and likely to be entertaining and informative.

Finally, I arrive at the end of the weekend with the two final screenings. These are no-brainer choices for me. The first is Clarence Brown’s A Woman of Affairs (1928), the third picture to team Greta Garbo and John Gilbert and their final silent film together. Present for the introduction will be Kevin Brownlow and Leonard Maltin. This screening will also be accompanied by a live orchestra performing a score composed and conducted by Carl Davis and it should be spectacular.

Now talk about thrilling. This will be a nitrate presentation of Irving Cummings’ The Dolly Sisters (1945) starring one of my idols, superstar Betty Grable and June Haver as famous vaudeville entertainers, Jenny and Rosie Dolly. This movie strays far from the real story of The Dolly Sisters who were known more for their dark beauty than for their talent, so if you’re looking for biographical drama look elsewhere. However, if enchanting entertainment, the wonderful fluff I adore that’s important enough to get a Carol Burnett parody, if what you’re after then look no further. This one means a lot to me. Remember, Betty Grable was my idea of the biggest star in the world. Oh oh…I may cry during this screening. With John Payne as Grable’s love and character greats S. Z. Sakall and Sig Ruman, The Dolly Sisters screening cannot come soon enough even though it ends my TCMFF 2019.

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There you have my picks and ideas on this year’s festival. It all adds up to 16 movies – a decent number for me – three Club TCM presentations, and numerous new experiences. I hope to run into you in Hollywood, but if not follow me on social media for the latest from TCMFF 2019.

Facebook:  Citizen Screen

Twitter:  @CitizenScreen

Instagram: Citizen Screen

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It’s always fun to compare notes with friends so I’m including links to a few other bloggers’ TCMFF picks. I love reading how everyone makes his/her decisions on such things and hope you do too.  If your blog post is not included leave the link in the comments section and I’ll be happy to add it to this list.

Check out the choices of Pre-Code.Com

    My Picks for #TCMFF 2019 You've probably heard that the schedule for the Turner Classic Movies Film Festival (TCMFF) 2019  was published earlier this week.

[bendywackyadventures]

BATIM SOL AU Welcome Home Chap.9

Here were are the 2nd to last chapter! Just one more chapter and Book 1 of SOL AU is completed! I have a couple of SOL AU drabbles for the holiday season starting in December! So I hope you'll enjoy this holiday season with the Stein Family!

I hope you enjoy!

Everyone ran as fast as their feat can take them running to where the roar was. As they ran they passed by John and his friends running away, “Monster! Monster!” They yelled.

“Hurry, Bendy isn’t too far!” Henry yelled. He led the group running to wear Bendy might be. Henry stopped dropping his flashlight. Cody and Connie stopped and held onto Linda, as the later held them tight for safety. Alice and Boris held onto each other.

In front of them was Bendy, in his beast form. His eyes were covered in ink; his body was now huge with long arms and hands, a small body and legs, and sharp teeth. He looked like he was snarling at the group, but wasn’t attacking them.

“Mr. Stein, is that…”

Henry nodded, “yes. This is Bendy in his beast form.”

“Beast form?” Connie asked.

“When Bendy is not at the right state of mind, he turns into that.” Alice explained.

“Is he dangerous?”

Henry went silent remembering the fight he had with Beast Bendy; he remembered the fight with him that almost killed him, the fight that made Bendy have nightmares since living with him, the fight that has haunted Henry since he escaped the hellhole of Joey Drew Studios.

However, Henry didn’t want to scare the kids and Linda. If he told them the truth, they probably would never want to go near Bendy ever again, but he didn’t want to lie to them. “Can I be honest?” Linda and the twins nodded, “and when I tell you guys, you’re not going to treat Bendy anything different?”

“Honey, what’s going on? Is there something about Bendy you kept hidden from me?” Linda asked.

“Yes. You see Bendy killed me, twice.”

The twins looked at each other, “Then how are you still alive?” Cody asked.

“It’s complicated to say the least.” Henry continued as he talked about his best pal Joey sending him the letter and visiting the ol’ workshop. He saw the horrors, the monsters his co-workers became, Alice being abused by an evil Alice who was once, Susie Campbell, Allison and Tom who helped them escape, finding the true Boris, and finally destroying Joey once and for all when Bendy came to his senses.

“I didn’t want to tell you because. I was scared that Bendy would be out casted for his actions. It was all Joey’s fault!” Henry exclaimed.

Linda heard the story about the studio on the first day the toons lived with them, but she never knew Bendy was controlled by Joey to kill others. The twins looked at Henry and at each other.

“But, Mr. Stein.” Connie started. Henry looked up at the little girl, “we would never push away Bendy.”

“Yeah! Bendy is cool! I mean he had a bad past, but you can make him have a bright future. That’s what our grandma always told us.” Cody explained.

Henry was surprised over the kid’s reactions over Beast Bendy. They weren’t scared at all. Even Linda wasn’t scared; she gave a sympathetic look to her husband and the demon. “I’m not scared too, Henry. It was Joey who made him like this, not you, not Bendy himself.”

Alice and Boris froze and shivered at the sight. Linda and Henry looked up and saw Beast Bendy breathing down at them. Cody and Connie stood in amazement at how tall their friend was in this form. Henry walked up to the demon, as the creature growled and breathed heavily.

“Bendy. It’s me, Henry. Your dad?” Henry softly whispered. Henry had his hand out to pet the demon, but the later walked back snarling. The creator stopped, but smiled walking up. “Bendy. Did someone hurt you?”

Bendy growled remembering John and his friends picking at him. Bendy gave a roar, making Linda hold onto the twins tightly.

“Easy boy. Easy.” Bendy still snarled at the man. “The ones who harmed you are gone, they won’t hurt you anymore. It’s just me, Linda, Alice, Boris and the twins. You remember Connie and Cody, right?”

Beast Bendy tilted his head, “the twins?” he thought.

“Hi Bendy!” Cody yelled. Connie shushed him, and covered his mouth.

Beast Bendy looked up and saw the twins along with Linda, Boris and Alice. The demon then looked down at Henry.

“See bud, we all came to look for you.” Henry comforted.

Beast Bendy whimpered, inky tears dripping from his ink covered eyes. Henry put his hand and pets the ink demon. Bendy looked at Henry, who smiled as he gave comforting pets. Beast Bendy put his head on Henry’s chest knocking the former animator down.

“Henry!” Linda yelled, worried her husband was hurt.

Henry chuckled as beast Bendy rubbed his head on Henry’s chest. “Okay, buddy. Relax. I forgive you. We all forgive you.” Beast Bendy put his big inky hands, cuddling his dad. Beast Bendy smiled at his father figure, and gave a growl like purr. Henry smiled and hugged the demon.

“Aww. He’s like a big puppy!” Connie gushed.

“Yeah, a big puppy who drools and slobbers.” Alice added.

Beast Bendy walked over to Alice and Boris and gave them a huge inky lick. “Eww. Bendy!” Alice yelled.

Everyone laughed over the slobbery kiss. “Alright, Bendy.” Henry laughed. “Could you go back to your tiny form?”

Beast Bendy nodded. Ink started to drop and melt to the ground. Linda stepped back holding onto the twins to move them away from the ink. Once all the ink was gone, and all that left was a toon sized Bendy; the demon shook the access ink like a dog who got out of a bathtub. Bendy looked up and smiled. “Thanks Henry.”

“Anytime bud.” Henry picked up the demon and held him tightly. The demon yawned as he slept in his chest.

“Is Bendy okay?” Cody asked.

Henry nodded, “he just needs some rest. He tired himself out due to being in his inky form.”

The twins looked at their friend sleeping soundly. It was a long day for everyone, and seeing Bendy sleeping made them tired as well. “I guess we’re all tired.” Boris added.

Henry nodded, “we should get going. Your parents must be worried.”

Connie and Cody nodded as the Stein family left the woods and headed home.  

[dwestfieldblog]

DOOMSCROLLING

Rocking and doomscrolling in an Eigenstate, the English Variant is here...All virtue signalling wannabe edgelords,  sleepwalking ’woke’ automatons, fake Christians, Faustian Republicans, corrupt Conservatives and retarding neophobes look away now. Little more than domesticated primates, a majority of larval humanity continues to ignore its astral biology...yes really. ‘Those who control symbols control us’.  And Pavlov dogs do love flags eh? Here is a balanced, mostly unpretentious finite rant for breakfast where the opinion arises from triple checked facts rather than mere emotion.  In God we rust.

Straight off...Disgusted to rage by the English government’s March budget which gives  nurses a ‘pay rise’ equivalent to three pounds fifty pence a week, (which doesn’t even begin to cover the cost of their parking at hospitals) the disdain these arrogant swine feel for truly essential workers is revealed in full. The ‘Heath’ minister explained that times were tight due to Covid...yes Matt, fairly sure the nurses working 18 hours a day had already noticed this in their desperately overworked, overcrowded hospitals. Deeply in debt, Britain plans to borrow 355 billion pounds this year, the highest amount in her history. Corporation tax will possibly increase in 2023, a little late to balance wages elsewhere for nurses etc...And given the previous ten years, highly unlikely it would even be used for such. But it might look good to those brainwashed gimps that STILL plan to vote for this bastardly corrupt party in 2024.

A clip taken in March of an exceptionally long queue for a food bank in London brings it all into sharper focus. The 6th richest economy in the world has the most food banks of any democratic country. Over 2000 in the UK. (Over 900 in Germany.) Hate to come across as a Socialist but The Tories have been in power for ten long years, historically destroying the NHS a bit more each time they hold power. Endlessly subcontracting, pouring money into new unneeded tiers of management, slowing operations down with extra paperwork, voting down pay rises, thus expediting a brain drain of doctors, nurses and surgeons to other countries and private practices...and over the last thirteen months, supplying those who stayed, with mountains of  PPE equipment not fit for purpose. A ‘jolly good show’ handclap every evening on doorsteps doesn’t fecking cut it. Neither do all the rainbows drawn by children put into windows. In fact, Boris, it looks like outright damn cynicism. All the more since your dose of the virus (‘I visited the Covid ward and shook hands with everyone’) was healed by excellent work by the NHS. Mr. Boris ‘No government could have done more’. Johnson...a lot of us are keeping score.

Lord Bethell, (‘Parliamentary under secretary of State for Innovation at the Department of Health and Social Care’) said that nurses are ‘well paid’ for the job they do, reiterating that times are hard; ‘There are millions of people out of work on the back of this epidemic’. Well yes there are. And why? A government which dragged its heels many times after salient scientific advice, prognoses/ projections were given, and allowed three massive social gatherings (384,000 people) to take place for superspreading, as well as conflicting advice about masks, herd immunity and confusion over open borders, schools to return for one day, etc...All of which led to the dire need for total lockdowns and the impossibility to sell or go to work (unless working from home) leading in turn to unpaid rent/bills, evictions, bosses laying off those they cannot afford to pay. And to mention again, the Tories have been the ones in power for ten years...with banking scandals (where chiefs were not punished but the public were twice, once by collapses and once for raised taxes to prop up the greed). The expenses scandal of politicians, massive public service cutbacks, corruption, the smug George Osbourne guiding Britain disgracefully to poverty via austerity, a National Health service being encouraged to disintegrate and’ an oven ready’/tramps breakfast scraps Brexit...and LO!... the coffers are indeed a little empty thanks to all the contracts tossed without oversight to the governments mates without due process, including 37 billion pounds spent on a Test and Trace programme which did not function, 252 million AND 6000 pounds a DAY to ‘consultants (for the essential chimera of PR etc).Chumocracy at highly profitable work.

Over to you Boris, ‘...it is thanks to PRUDENT FISCAL MANGEMENT that we have been able to fight this pandemic in the way that we have.’

Well exactly.

A dishevelled adult leader of a country who cannot even brush his hair or dress himself, a ‘leader’ who missed five vital COBRA meetings about the pandemic, never took in the notes from scientists of advance warnings and blustered his pompous comedy horseshite rather than leading from the front. Father of six or perhaps 7 illegitimate children (does he pay child support? No records). But never mind eh, he is a rum sort of cove. No. Churchill would have him horsewhipped naked and tarred and feathered in Trafalgar Square. But still! When questioned on whether there would be an inquiry into the colossal waste without recompense or standard clauses in contracts of taxpayers’ money raped from the Treasury, Mr Johnson replied that it was ‘NOT IN THE PUBLIC INTEREST’. Really. REALLY? Boris, if you were a catheter, you could not extract more urine than you already do. The clown father of the motherland. BJ said he took ‘full responsibility’ for the massive number of fatalities. But hasn’t resigned.127 thousand covid deaths in UK, leading Europe by 33 thousand.  Well played chaps. 545 thousand USA. China 4636. Yeah RIGHT. Sure.

Once knew a guy who, if you told him something factual, most often replied with ‘Well, it’s the first I’ve heard of it’...meaning anything he had not already been told was automatically false. How did he ever learn new information? Neophobes, their insecurities heavy chains to evolving, seem to rule the world; Good news is they don’t. Bad news is, they know it and are getting ever more desperate the rest of us go down with them in righteous conservatism and counter evolution. ‘Perception does not consist of passive reception of signals but of an active interpretation of signals...active, creative trans-actions’...‘The easier you can predict a message, the less information the message contains’. If a media source etc attempt to relay actual news and it does not fit what is already believed, it is disregarded or worse...GIGO...Garbage In=Garbage Out.

The pandemic is doing great things for the further global rise of populist swine...When the mass public mind is aflame with anger and fear, new bastards step up and old governments impose harder laws. Hungary loses her last independent radio station and Orban rejoices. Brazilian bastid Bolsanaro continues to see his people as expendable inhuman statistics. By their hatred he will burn. 301 thousand dead. Totalitarianism creeps apace via populist chancers, Stalinist fascists, nationalist bullshitters who care far more about their ego than their country. (Hello frog eyed Nigel Farage aka Lord Haw Haw the 2nd.) Speaking of which...Lord Mayor of London wannabe Laurence Fox bought a mask exemption badge online because he didn’t want his pretty face to be unrecognised. Narcissist, who as leader of a new party Reclaim, wants to ‘take back’ Britain from the Woke snowflakes (even while speaking like a laidback Establishment version of them) and end up in Parliament. Good for you luvvie. But now with acting career ended and music career failed, he does look a lot like a pretty poster boy who needs to stay adored and recognises (along with his string pulling financial backers) there is a bandwagon to be jumped on. In 8 years time he (or someone similar in insecure need for others approval to give vent to their sadistic impulses) could be a new type of prime minister and the V for Vendetta pre-scenario will be in full swing. ‘Politicians should wear sponsor jackets like Nascar drivers, then we know who owns them’ Robin Williams via Jonathan Pie. No one from Texas should be allowed to be president...and no one from Eton (or Harrow) should ever be allowed to be Prime Minister. Apart from Churchill.

Sometimes it takes a nightmare to wake one up...an authoritarian dystopia coming soon to a land mass near you...a failed state and a divided kingdom of Mediocre Britain with bad laws for her citizens but great if you are a ‘public servant’ or a friend of those that are. Probably a good thing for Euope that we are an island eh? We turned our back on them and they can cast us adrift like an oil tanker filled with toxic waste. Sunak or Patel next? Will the ‘Elite’ (Ha) allow a person of colour to rise to the depths of Prime Minister? The entire cabinet should be sent to a Chinese prison. Avaricious liars. If you don’t stir the cream it turns into scum.

And speaking of destroying your country from inside....

Oh America... just watched the Idaho mask burning clip in Boise, adults encouraging children to pick up discarded masks, pathogens, all with bare hands and drop into the garbage bin flames...inhaling the formaldehyde smoke... Freedom! End lockdown now! Breathe deeply rednecks. So looking forward to having a black woman president over there. Please be better than all these useless white trash MORONS...Q Onan, the ‘storm’ (in a beer can), the ‘plan’, ‘where we go one, we go all’...right down the toilet of history into the sewers of oblivion. Good riddance to foul rubbish, Believers anxious for orders from ‘Christians’ who are actually serving what they would call ‘Satan’. Ironic on the darkest level, no? LOOK at their faces, into their eyes, naught but greed for power. Two thousand years of inverted truths. ‘Religion’ became consumed by ‘the Devil’. Discuss with yourself after watching the majority of preachers.

The Trumps, Hawley, Cruz, Lindsey Graham, Bannon, the Mercers, Paula White, Stella Immanuel and the Gawd awful Marjorie Taylor Greene should be sent alone, foodless to a small island surrounded by sharks. And filmed for our entertainment. And oh...that dumbass disgusting false idol kitsch gold statue (to celebrate his love of golden rain) of Donald, created via Mexico and China in artistic irony. And, and AND the Republican senators against any background checks for those who want to own guns. (Seven mass killings this year already by armed wankers.) Britain, Europe and America, unions encouraged, persuaded to break apart into hexagram 23 while China and Russia grin. Q seems like a new form of right wing bullshite to rally the dumb against what they perceive to be the ‘left wing’ rebellion of Anonymous. I think Q originated in the Kremlin myself. An electronic baobab seed...

Back to my birthland...New powers of arrest looming for ‘Non Crime Hate Incidents’, and a new police bill of up to ten years prison for silent protest. One almost expects this in (arf) lesser countries with pantomime dictators, but on the septic, excuse me, sceptre’d isle of Britain? An obvious Government first shot reaction against what they know might be coming for their dire mishandling of the pandemic, loss of jobs and no real support for the underlings...Governments ARE afraid of their people, that’s why enough laws are passed (with minimum debate or under cover of smokescreen news events) to ensure all those not wealthy and well connected are in daily risk of being arrested for ‘criminality’. So be sure to be obedient to your ‘public servants’.

Ahh.. enough eh? Apolitically incorrect, radical liberal, fundamentalist atheist, remember the Tar Baby idea Dave, the more you attack something, the more you are attached to it. Let it go brother. The difference between being frozen in stasis and empty with Zen calm. But to paraphrase Robert Anton Wilson, (as I am so often wont to do) thanks to our own programming, when we do not frequently examine and cross check our input we become full of Self Hypnotic Ideational Trance. Dogmas must be only transitory, flow river, flow...

Bells Theorem? Pretty good but this is mostly Jameson’s (with Czech spring water) theorem. In confession, I crave your indulgence, Invoke Often, Repeat repeat repeat, ‘How far is it, if you can think of it?’ Transduction of thoughts into chemicals...surfing the neuropeptides and there you stood on the edge of your feather expecting to die, A skeleton breastfeeding a priest, and if that mocking bird don’t sing, daddy’s gonna break off both its wings. Whoops. The optical illusion of a rainbow halo as beautiful as ‘God on drugs’.  Melancholy melophile, melomaniac and melomaniacal, I am an Audiophile in the paralysis of rapture...Ahh...and now I have obtained an elegant sufficiency, multitasking in five time zones. Left frontal lobe digital (manual) moving to Right frontal lobe analogue non Aristotelian (self controlled). Get it? DNA appears to be a cybernetics information/programming system...but anyway...

Bet there will be a massive increase in the birth rate nine months after most of the world is vaccinated, a surge of relieved masses celebrating in the old fashioned way. All those who died will be ‘replaced’ at double pumping speed. The idea that the vaccine contains the ‘Establishment’s’ nanobots seems unlikely...how on Earth would at least ONE person in the know, not spill the (genetically modified) beans? And those wondrous illogical conspiracy theories that Covid was triggered deliberately via 5G mast networks by a satanic paedophile elite will fade for a while. Until the ‘Christian’evangelical (evil angels) right wing restart their crazed rambling about the Illuminati/Freemasons again. For the record, my own feeling is that any group which had Leonardo da Vinci, Goethe, Beethoven, Sir Issac Newton, Washington, Mark Twain, Churchill, Oscar Wilde, Jefferson etc as members, seems like a fairly cool and worthwhile group for humanity to learn from. Is it because Lucifer was the Light Bringer that they conflate illumination with evil? How very aware of them. Arf. Paranoid magicians live longer. Speaking of witch...’Nothing is, nothing becomes, nothing is not’. A.C. The Book of Lies. Be aware, not woke. Look for the hunchback (?) behind the soldier (!)...‘You can empty infinity from it and infinity still remains’.

‘The data may not contain the answer. The combination of some data and an aching desire for an answer does not ensure that a reasonable answer can be extracted from a given body of data.’

Ever see Interstellar? Love that film. Elon Musk should just select 100 people, blast off and leave the rest of us to burn. As psychologists would call it, most of humanity is indeed still at the larval stage. Most of us stay on ‘the fourth circuit’ all life and rip at anyone who goes beyond or tries to. Christ would be murdered again, that’s why Buddha avoided crowds. Release and receive...channel.

‘Truth, truth, truth! crieth the Lord of the Abyss of Hallucinations...’

Paradise in a scientific quantum possibility...A dimension where the ‘soul’/ recorded/imprinted memory continues in  ‘A quite specific electromagnetic-gravitational field in which mind can manifest without organic bodies’. As all ‘reality’ is subjective, and an individual life most likely takes up a mere byte in a terabyte (trillion bytes). Personal Heavens, the way YOU design and chose. Dream and imagine possibilities now...much Love forever from Anon of Ibid

[newstfionline]

Tuesday, March 9, 2021

From Florida to ‘Frisco, Americans flock to movies, bars and ballparks after winter of worry (Reuters) From the crack of the baseball bat in Florida to clinking of cocktails in San Francisco bars, the sounds of spring are in the air as Americans start to return to many of the beloved pastimes they were forced to abandon 12 months ago. With cities and states loosening restrictions as new COVID-19 cases recede and the rollout of vaccines accelerates, people are enjoying a taste of their old lives again. Over the past weekend, New Yorkers watched movies on the big screen, San Franciscans dined indoors, and baseball fans cheered on their favorite big-league players as spring training resumed in Florida. In just one month, the mood in the United States has rebounded from an eight-year low to the highest level recorded by Reuters/Ipsos polls that date back to 2012. To be sure, the pandemic, which has killed more than half a million Americans, is far from over. In fact, some health experts are warning that a decline in new cases is leveling off and potentially more virulent variants are spreading just as restrictions ease.

US child benefits? (NYT) Obscured by other parts of President Biden’s $1.9 trillion stimulus package, which won Senate approval on Saturday, a mold-breaking child benefit plan has the makings of a policy revolution. Though framed in technocratic terms as an expansion of an existing tax credit, it is essentially a guaranteed income for families with children, akin to children’s allowances that are common in other rich countries. The plan establishes the benefit for a single year. But if it becomes permanent, as Democrats intend, it will greatly enlarge the safety net for the poor and the middle class at a time when the volatile modern economy often leaves families moving between those groups. More than 93 percent of children—69 million—would receive benefits under the plan, at a one-year cost of more than $100 billion.

Mexican camp that was symbol of migrant misery empties out under Biden (Reuters) A sprawling camp in the Mexican city of Matamoros, within sight of the Texan border, has since 2019 been one of the most powerful reminders of the human toll of former President Donald Trump’s efforts to keep migrants out of the United States. The camp has dwindled to just a few dozen in residents in recent days, after hundreds of asylum seekers living there were finally allowed to cross the border to press their claim to stay in the United States. President Joe Biden last month rolled back the program—known as the Migrant Protection Protocols (MPP)—that had forced asylum seekers to wait in Mexico. Biden’s wife, Jill, visited the camp during last year’s presidential campaign to witness the difficult conditions first hand. “If it hadn’t been for this camp, I don’t think they would have ever ended MPP,” said Honduran asylum seeker Oscar Borjas, one of the last remaining residents.

Meghan accuses UK royals of racism, says ‘didn’t want to be alive’ (Reuters) Meghan, the wife of Prince Harry, accused Britain’s royal family of raising concerns about how dark their son’s skin might be and pushing her to the brink of suicide, in a tell-all television interview that will send shockwaves through the monarchy. The 39-year-old, whose mother is Black and father is white, said she had been naive before she married into royalty in 2018, but that she ended up having suicidal thoughts and considering self harm after pleading for help but getting none. Meghan said that her son Archie, now aged one, had been denied the title of prince because there were concerns within the royal family about “about how dark his skin might be when he’s born”. Meghan declined to say who had aired such concerns, as did Harry. He said his family had cut them off financially and that his father Prince Charles, heir to the British throne, had let him down and refused to take his calls at one point. Buckingham Palace was not expected to give an immediate response to the interview, which aired in the early hours of Monday morning in Britain.

UK schools to reopen, backed by frequent virus testing (AP) British students, backed by a robust coronavirus testing program, are gearing up to return to school Monday after a two-month closure, in what Prime Minister Boris Johnson says is a plan to get the country “moving closer to a sense of normality.” The reopening of schools is the first step in the U.K. government’s plan to gradually ease COVID-19 restrictions as the country’s vaccination drive gains critical mass, with all restrictions lifted by June. As part of the plan, millions of high school and college students coming back to U.K. classrooms will be tested for the virus for the first few weeks. Authorities want to quickly detect and isolate asymptomatic cases in order to avoid sending entire schools home. High schools and colleges will be allowed to reopen in phases to allow for three rounds of testing. Students will then get kits so they can test themselves twice more at home.

US proposals on Afghanistan (Washington Post) Worried that Afghan peace talks are going nowhere, and facing a May 1 deadline for the possible withdrawal of all U.S. troops, the Biden administration has proposed sweeping plans for an interim power-sharing government between the Taliban and Afghan leaders, and stepped-up involvement by Afghanistan’s neighbors—including Iran—in the peace process. Along with the proposal, shared with both sides over the past week by U.S. envoy Zalmay Khalilzad, Secretary of State Antony Blinken warned Afghan President Ashraf Ghani that a U.S. departure remains under active consideration and could lead to “rapid territorial gains” by the Taliban. “I am making this clear to you so that you understand the urgency of my tone,” Blinken wrote in a three-page letter to Ghani sent to coincide with the proposal.

After historic whirlwind visit, Pope leaves Iraq for Rome (AP) Pope Francis on Monday wrapped up his historic whirlwind tour of Iraq that sought to bring hope to the country’s marginalized Christian minority with a message of coexistence, forgiveness and peace. The pontiff and his traveling delegation were seen off with a farewell ceremony at the Baghdad airport, from where he left for Rome following a four-day papal visit that has covered five provinces across Iraq. At every turn of his trip, Francis urged Iraqis to embrace diversity—from Najaf in the south, where he held a historic face-to-face meeting with powerful Shiite cleric Grand Ayatollah Ali al-Sistani, to Nineveh to the north, where he met with Christian victims of the Islamic State group’s terror and heard their testimonies of survival. In Iraq’s south, Francis convened a meeting of Iraqi religious leaders in the deserts near a symbol of the country’s ancient past—the 6,000-year-old ziggurat in the Plains of Ur, also thought to be the birthplace of Abraham, the biblical patriarch revered by Jews, Christians and Muslims. The gathering brought religious representatives across the country rarely seen together, from Muslims, Christians, Yazidis and Mandaeans. The joint appearance by figures from across Iraq’s sectarian spectrum was almost unheard-of, given their communities’ often bitter divisions. The pope called on them to work together and make peace.

Lebanon’s deadlock fuels seventh day of street protests (Reuters) Demonstrators burnt tyres to block main roads all over Lebanon for the seventh straight day on Monday in anger at more than a year of economic crisis and seven months of political paralysis. “We have said several times that there will be an escalation because the state isn’t doing anything,” said Pascale Nohra, a protester in Jal al-Dib.” Maronite Patriarch Bechara Boutros al-Rai hit out at the politicians in his Sunday sermon: “How can the people not revolt when the price of one dollar has surpassed 10,000 Lebanese pounds in one day, how can they not revolt when the minimum wage is $70?”

Saudi oil terminal targeted (Foreign Policy) The Saudi-led coalition in Yemen said it launched a number of airstrikes on the Yemeni capital Sanaa, in retaliation for an attempted strike on a key oil port. Houthi rebels claimed responsibility for a missile and drone attack on the major Saudi oil port of Ras Tanura on Sunday, although Saudi authorities reported no damage to the port’s facilities from the strike as missile defenses were engaged. Saudi state media blamed the attempted Houthi strike on the softer approach the Biden administration has taken to the Iran-aligned group, after it recently removed a terrorist label previously put in place by the Trump administration. Oil prices rose above $70 per barrel for the first time in 14 months as a result of the attack, with fears rising over threats to global oil flows.

At Dubai airport, travelers’ eyes become their passports (AP) Dubai’s airport, the world’s busiest for international travel, can already feel surreal, with its cavernous duty-free stores, artificial palm trees, gleaming terminals, water cascades and near-Arctic levels of air conditioning. Now, the key east-west transit hub is rolling out another addition from the realm of science fiction—an iris-scanner that verifies one’s identity and eliminates the need for any human interaction when entering or leaving the country. It’s the latest artificial intelligence program the United Arab Emirates has launched amid the surging coronavirus pandemic, contact-less technology the government promotes as helping to stem the spread of the virus. But the efforts also have renewed questions about mass surveillance in the federation of seven sheikhdoms, which experts believe has among the highest per capita concentrations of surveillance cameras in the world. In recent years, airports across the world have accelerated their use of timesaving facial recognition technology to move passengers to their flights. But Dubai’s iris scan improves on the more commonplace automated gates seen elsewhere, authorities said, connecting the iris data to the country’s facial recognition databases so the passenger needs no identifying documents or boarding pass.

An Island Stuffs Itself With Pineapple Smoothies, Pineapple Burgers and Pineapple Cake (WSJ) Like many people in Taiwan, Allen Hsueh has a newfound fervor for pineapple. The 38-year-old chef has come up with at least a dozen new recipes for his restaurant in Kaohsiung, called Pomme de Terre, including pork-wrapped pineapple with mozzarella cheese, red curry seafood with pineapple and spiced chicken breast and pineapple salad. The 20 spots for a special five-course, pineapple-inspired meal, scheduled later this month, filled up in a day. It’s not just an act of culinary bravery. These days, pineapple consumption is seen as an act of patriotism. Taiwan residents have been gobbling up the fruit since China—by far the island’s largest outside buyer—banned imports of their pineapples starting March 1, citing dangerous pests detected in recent shipments. The government of Taiwan—a democratically-ruled island that Beijing considers part of China—denied any infestation, saying 99.79% of its imported pineapples to China last year passed inspection. Instead, it issued a challenge to the island’s 24 million citizens, as well as its overseas friends, to snap up “freedom pineapples” as a form of protest and said it would support pineapple prices. The voracious response is now raising questions about whether there’s such a thing as too much of a good fruit.

Myanmar strike (Foreign Policy) At least 18 labor organizations have begun a nationwide strike across Myanmar, calling all workers “union and non-union alike” to join in work stoppages to protest the military coup. Local media report that troops have begun to occupy universities and hospitals, raising fears that wounded protesters may be subject to arrest.

Nun stands in front of Myanmar security forces to block them from shooting protesters (Reuters) A nun seen walking toward the police and begging them not to shoot has been hailed as a hero in Myanmar. Footage filmed by the Myitkyina News Journal on Feb. 28 showed a nun—whom local media identified as Sister Ann Roza—begging for police not to fire. She was later photographed on her knees, stopping the police from advancing. The nun told Myitkyina News Journal that she decided to risk her life for Myanmar’s citizens. “I can feel pain in my heart when protesters get hurt,” she said. “I can’t stand seeing them in pain.” More than 50 people have been killed since the military overthrew elected leader Aung San Suu Kyi on Feb. 1, according to the United Nations.

At least 20 dead, 600 wounded in Equatorial Guinea blasts (AP) A series of explosions at a military barracks in Equatorial Guinea killed at least 20 people and wounded more than 600 others on Sunday, authorities said. President Teodoro Obiang Nguema said the explosion at 4 p.m. local time was due to the “negligent handling of dynamite” in the military barracks located in the neighborhood of Mondong Nkuantoma in Bata. “The impact of the explosion caused damage in almost all the houses and buildings in Bata,” the president said in a statement.