#these god kings in the supreme court need to learn that they are supposed to serve us

[jeffbezos--official]

*this is not a joke, or satire like the rest of this page*

If you are in a state that is/has put forward motions to criminalize abortions after the supreme court ruling, you need to be prepared.

If you have the means, stock up on plan B. Don't get brand name unless you really really want to as generic is significantly cheaper.

Do not just go and buy out your area's local stores of emergency contraceptives.

It is imperative that those are available in emergencies. Instead order them online. Daddy Bezos has options available for purchase, tho as you may have guessed from the way I post on here, I personally believe alternatives would be better.

Nevertheless, here's a link to the cheapest version I could find on Daddy Bezos' shop

My Choice Emergency Contraceptive 1 Tablet

[dfroza]

A conservation work

“caretakers of the mysteries of God”

And a question mark (?)

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 4th chapter of the letter of 1st Corinthians:

Rather than power brokers, think of us as servants of the Anointed One, the Liberating King, caretakers of the mysteries of God. Because we are in this particular role, it is especially important that we are people of fidelity and integrity. It makes little difference to me how you or any human court passes judgment on me. I even resist the temptation to compare myself to the ever-changing human standard. Although I am not aware of any flaw that might exclude me from this divine service, that’s not the reason I stand acquitted—the only supreme judge, our Lord, will examine me in the proper time. So resist the temptation to act as judges before all the evidence is in. When the Lord comes, He will draw our buried motives, thoughts, and deeds (even things we don’t know or admit to ourselves) out of the dark shadows of our hearts into His light. When this happens, the voice of God will speak to each of us the only praise that will ever matter.

Right now, brothers and sisters, the best thing I can do for you is to apply these principles to the situation with Apollos and me. Maybe we can show you the meaning of the saying, “not beyond the things written.” If you learn that, perhaps none of you will swell with pride because you fall into the seductive trap of pitting one against the other. Is there any reason to consider yourselves better than others? What do you have that you didn’t receive? If you received it as a gift, why do you boast like it is something you achieved on your own?

Now let’s see if I have it straight. You suppose that you already have all you need. You already are rich and prosperous. And without us you’ve already begun to reign like kings. To be honest, I wish you did reign so that we could reign with you because it seems to me that God has put His emissaries at the end of the line, like convicts in their final walk to certain death. We have become a spectacle to the rest of the world—to all people and heaven’s messengers. We are nothing but fools for the cause of the Anointed One while you are wise in Him. Am I right? We are feeble and tired while you are mighty and full of life. You are well respected by others while we’re treated as contemptuous creatures by pretty much everyone everywhere. Up to this very minute, we are famished, we are thirsty, and our clothes are shabby, practically rotted to pieces. We are homeless, hapless wanderers. But still we labor, working with our hands to meet our needs because, despite all of this, when a fist is raised against us, we respond with a blessing; when we face violence and persecution, we stay on mission; and when others choose taunts and slander against us, we speak words of encouragement and reconciliation. We’re treated as the scum of the earth—and I am not talking in the past tense; I mean today! We’re the scraps of society, nothing more than the foulest human rubbish.

I am not telling you all this so that you’ll feel guilty or be ashamed of how you have acted. I am only trying to warn you, just as a father would warn his children. You may have 10,000 instructors in the faith of the Anointed One, but you have only one father. In Jesus the Anointed I have become your father through my efforts in spreading the good news. So as your father in the faith, I want to encourage you to live as I have lived. Imitate my life. This is one of the reasons I sent Timothy to be with you. He is my dearly loved and faithful child in the Lord. His mission is to remind you of the way I experience life in the Anointed. In all the churches everywhere I go, I teach the same lessons the same way, and I live out those lessons. But the reality is, some of you have put yourselves on pedestals and live like you are high above the rest—it’s as if you assumed I would not return to confront your misguided pride. But I am coming. Lord willing, I will be with you soon. Then I will know what power is backing those arrogant folks and their words. The kingdom of God is not a realm of grandiose talk; it is a realm of power. So tell me what you want. Should I visit you, rod in hand ready to discipline a crew of self-important people; or should I embrace you, love you, and gently teach you as we celebrate the blessings of God together?

The Letter of 1st Corinthians, Chapter 4 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

Paul explains and exemplifies the goals of a mature believer in a way that may be easily contrasted with the desires of an immature believer. He is seeking love and truth more than popularity, embracing suffering rather than comfort. In fact, he disregards popularity and comfort completely so that he isn’t distracted from the love and truth of Jesus. This could be a powerful force in the world if believers embraced this kind of maturity.

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 5th chapter of the book of Jeremiah:

Eternal One: Roam the streets of Jerusalem, and tell Me what you see, Jeremiah.

See if you can find anything good happening anywhere.

Look in the marketplaces and open spaces of the city.

If you can find just one honest person who lives according to My ways,

I’ll spare the city of this horror.

I hear them making oaths in My name. “As the Eternal lives,” they say.

But they know the oaths are not true.

Jeremiah: O Eternal One, aren’t You looking for truth and integrity?

You struck them, but they did not flinch.

You destroyed them, but they did not yield to Your correction.

They wouldn’t change their ways.

They have set their stony faces against You—

defiant and determined, refusing to repent.

And I thought to myself, “How could they know any better?

They are poor and senseless people, unfamiliar with the ways of the Eternal,

Unaware of what their God requires.

So I will go to their leaders and share what I see.

They will do the right thing because they know the Eternal’s ways.

Surely, they will do what their God requires.”

But to a person, I was wrong; leaders were no different;

They, too, had broken the yoke, burst the bonds,

and pulled away from God’s guidance and correction.

Therefore, from the forest, a lion will strike.

From the desert, a wolf will pounce and destroy.

And from the shadows, a leopard now stalks their villages,

waiting to tear apart any who dare wander outside.

Such is the fate of all who fall away,

for their rebellion is great; their sins are many.

Eternal One (to His people): How can I forgive what you’ve done?

You have passed on your legacy of rebellion to your children who also rejected Me.

They have made unholy oaths in the names of so-called gods.

Why? I have fed them till they were full, and still they wanted more.

So they betrayed Me with their adultery,

trooping off to worship idols, filling up the houses of prostitutes.

They have everything they need, and still they want more.

Like lusty stallions, they call for each other’s mate.

Should I not punish them for these atrocities?

Against this nation, should I not avenge Myself?

(to His people’s enemies) Walk through the rows in her vineyards, and destroy them.

But do not destroy them completely.

Lop off the branches,

for they do not belong to Me, the Eternal.

Both the house of Israel and the house of Judah have betrayed Me.

They spew lies about the Eternal that mock My sovereign power.

They have said, “Nothing will happen! God will not hurt us!

All this talk of war and famine is just talk.

As for the prophets, they are full of hot air;

the word of God is not in them;

Let their words of doom fall on them.”

The Eternal One, Commander of heavenly armies, has this to say:

Eternal One (to Jeremiah): Because this is the way they speak,

I am going to turn My words in your mouth into a fire,

A fire that will consume these people; they are nothing but kindling for My fury.

(to His people) O house of Israel, I am stirring up a distant nation to march against you.

They are an enduring people from ancient times.

The language they speak is unknown to you;

you will not understand them.

Their quiver is like a gaping grave, full of death.

They are all mighty warriors.

They will devour your harvest and your food.

They will devour your sons and daughters.

They will devour your livestock, flocks, and herds.

They will devour your vineyards and orchards.

They will wield their swords

and cut down the fortified cities you think are so safe.

(to Jeremiah) But even then, I will not destroy your people completely. So when they ask you, “Why has the Eternal done this to us? Why would our one True God treat us this way?” remind them and speak to them My words: “Because you have rejected Me and bowed down to foreign gods in a land that was yours, now you will bow down to a foreign people in a land that is not yours.”

Declare My truth to the house of Jacob.

Proclaim it throughout the land of Judah:

Hear Me you foolish, heartless people.

Even with eyes and ears you are still blind and deaf to what is happening.

Do you not realize who I am? Do you not fear Me?

Do you not shake in the presence of the Eternal, the Creator of all things?

It is I who has drawn for all time the boundaries of the sea.

The waves may crash and roar against the sand,

But the waters do not cross the lines I have drawn.

But with stubborn and defiant hearts, this people

ignored Me and left Me for another.

It never occurs to them to say,

“Let us stand in awe of the Eternal our God,

For He sends the rain—both the autumn and the spring rain—

and He brings the harvest at just the right time year after year.”

It is your sins that hold back the rain.

It is your rebellion that keeps good things from happening to you.

Lurking among My own people are the wicked

who watch and wait, preying on the less fortunate.

Like hunters who set traps for birds,

they ensnare people for their own benefit.

Like a cage full of noisy birds, their homes are filled with screeching lies.

This is how they have become so rich and important—because others fell for their lies.

This is how they have grown so fat and polished.

Their evil deeds know no boundaries.

They do not take the side of the orphaned to help them prosper.

They do not seek justice for the poor;

Should I not punish them for these atrocities?

Against a nation like this, should I not avenge Myself?

(to His people) Something horrible and appalling has happened

in this land of promise.

The prophets who claim to speak for Me

are nothing more than false prophets, spewing lies and empty predictions.

The priests who were to do My bidding have chosen to go their own way,

and all the while, My people think nothing of it.

They actually prefer it this way,

but when the end comes, when My justices arrives, what will you do then?

The Book of Jeremiah, Chapter 5 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

As when Abraham pleaded with God over Sodom’s fate (Genesis 18:23–32), God is willing to spare Jerusalem if the prophet can find a single person, honest and true, living there.

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Tuesday, September 5 of 2023 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about being spiritual “aliens” in this world:

To be a human being is a paradox, caught between the realms of the infinite and nothingness; a union of endless possibility yet terminating limitation. Man desires to live forever but is conscious that one day he will die. He is an incongruity - a mix of flesh and spirit, saint and sinner, good and evil, angel and animal... A spirituality that demands for us to be always happy, always "up," is therefore dishonest, since the truth is grounded in what is real, and that includes both the miserable and the tragic as well as the joyful and sublime. It's not that there is no difference between good and evil within the heart, but both are part of who we really are. It is the bittersweet struggle, the process of walking as "saintly sinners," "holy fools," "dying immortals," and so on, that defines us. We must embrace our brokenness, in order to become whole; there is no healing without true confession of our need. Therefore we come to the paradoxical cross - the place of utter pain, separation, and death - to find healing, acceptance and life.

Please note this is not to deny that we are to walk by the Spirit and reckon ourselves dead to sin in the Messiah (Rom. 6:11); however, far from being a sign of a lack of spirituality, personal struggle is a sign of its presence.... Only those who are conscious of the tragic, who are haunted by the disparity between what "is" and what "ought" to be; only those who are divided within themselves, torn by inner tension and conflict - those aware that they are both in this world but not of it - sojourners, a long long way from home, homesick for the heavenly city, who inwardly ache and yearn to be fully redeemed - only these, it may be said, are consciously spiritual. After all, the worldling, the self-confident and self-possessed, rarely desire deliverance from themselves and are often content to rationalize the state of their soul; the spiritual person, on the other hand, senses a profound incompletion, a lack, a fracture that runs straight through the core of reality, a breach that needs to be healed...

I would utterly die of despair over myself were it not for the truth that it is not about who I am that is as important as about who He is...

There is great joy, of course, and we are indeed to “rejoice in the Lord always,” but there is also real pain in our lives, and I'd rather be in the company of those mourning the mess they have made of their lives than with someone who thinks they've got it all together... "We are treated as impostors, and yet are true; as unknown, and yet well known; as dying, and behold, we live; as punished, and yet not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, yet possessing everything" (2 Cor. 6:8-10).

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

========

Psalm 41:4 Hebrew reading:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm41-4-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page pdf:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm41-4-lesson.pdf

9.4.23 • Facebook

from yesterday’s email by Israel 365:

Whether we’re stuck in traffic, grappling with doubt, or pondering the broader destiny of a nation, Psalm 89 offers timeless wisdom. It teaches us that even when faced with uncertainty, our faith should remain unshakable, reminding us that the end of the road often holds promises that make the journey worth it.

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

September 5, 2023

Behold, My Servant

“His visage was so marred more than any man, and his form more than the sons of men.” (Isaiah 52:14)

The last three verses of Isaiah 52 begin the well-known Suffering Servant passage (Isaiah 52:13–53:12). The passage begins “Behold, my servant” (Isaiah 52:13) and uses abrupt topic changes. It says “he shall be exalted and extolled, and be very high” (v. 13), then without transition switches to today’s text. This doesn’t read with much flow, but God through Isaiah had a reason.

The sudden change makes the reader pause. The text jolts us into reading it again. Like a preacher who lifts his hands in a moment of passionate conviction, Yahweh wants us to behold His Servant with a double-take.

What’s so important that it deserves a closer look? The next verse tells us: “So shall he sprinkle many nations” (v. 15). The very act of the Servant’s disfigurement is the means by which He will fulfill His purpose to “sprinkle many nations.” The apostle John saw those future nations. “After this I beheld, and, lo, a great multitude, which no man could number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, stood before the throne…saying, Salvation to our God which sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb” (Revelation 7:9-10).

What could He sprinkle that would redeem such a throng? Surely this is Jesus’ blood, “which is shed for you” (Luke 22:20). “Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world” (John 1:29). He sprinkles His blood over us now. His shed blood is the only way to remove our sins. His death means our life. Now, that’s worth beholding. BDT

A few words about Garden of the Gods from the September / October issue of Acts & Facts by the ICR:

The worldwide extent of this erosional surface baffles uniformitarian scientists. Why is this near-planar boundary found at the same level on every continent? This question remains one of the great mysteries of evolutionary geology.2

The worldwide Flood is the best explanation for the global nature of the Great Unconformity.

And another article about global population after the Flood:

[josefavomjaaga]

Helfert, Joachim Murat, Chapter 6, Part 4

Sorry as usual for the long delay. I really had to finish some other work. When we left off, Murat was still in Corsica, planning his landing on Neapolitan soil.

In Ajaccio, Murat's imminent arrival was soon known, and on the 23rd, when he made his entrance, a reception awaited him that sealed his doom. For now he was drunk from joy and a feeling of victory. His pride, his ambition, together with his adventurous, extravagant imagination, won over him to such an extent that he remained completely deaf to calm ideas, to rational arguments. "This is how my Neapolitans received me," he exclaimed to Franceschetti in the evening, "whenever I returned from the field to their midst!" And after a while: "Yes, so be it! I will live or die among my people! I want to go to Naples, let us not miss a moment to be there!" To make the measure of his delusion complete, a letter from Count Borgia of Rome, sent to him via Porto-Longone, came into his hands in these days, describing the mood in Naples as immensely favourable to him, and King Ferdinand as hated everywhere. Lambruschini, who could teach him otherwise, was, as we know, not even in Naples at that time, let alone that any news had arrived from him, which, incidentally, in the mood in which Murat now found himself, would hardly have changed his decision.

The next few days were spent preparing for departure. As a side piece to the Bogognano Manifesto, he now had a "royal decree" drawn up which could almost be called Napoleonic, so much thought was given in it to the most insignificant details. The constitution is to come into force on 1 January 1816, and the convocation of the chambers is to be initiated without delay" (Art. 1). "All civil servants, officers and dignitaries discharged since May 21 shall immediately resume their official positions; the former division of the army shall be restored; all grades, all allocations, all promotions, honours and rewards made during the last campaign shall remain in force (Art. 2, 8, 10). On the other hand, all those appointed since that day shall immediately leave their posts, otherwise they will be declared rebels, inciters of civil war, traitors to the fatherland, put outside the law and treated as such (Art. 3, 4). Neither the royal palaces, summer residences and estates were forgotten, for which the former court servants would once again have to take care, nor the king's horses, equipages and carriages, for which the chief stable master and his staff were made responsible (Art. 13, 14). "All our adjutants and orderly officers must appear without delay at Our Headquarters and rally around Our person" (Art. 18). . . The decree, consisting of 20 articles, was calculated to 36. It provided for the composition of the ministry, for the filling of the leading military posts in the capital and in the provinces. But because it was pointed out to the "King" that a premature appointment of these personalities, most of whom were in Naples, would only expose them to Ferdinand's revenge, Murat agreed to the relevant articles being suppressed. The decree and the manifesto were then sent to the printers at Ajaccio, in order to have a sufficient number of copies of both at hand at the first moment. The place and date of execution were left open; both headings were to be filled in as soon as they were in place.

On 28 September, everything was ready for departure. The desired vehicles were prepared and equipped as needed: there were five trabacoli and one felucca, larger barques (gondoloni), as the Barbaresks used them for their raids; the crew to be embarked, officers, soldiers and seamen, numbered about 250. Immediately before embarkation, the "King" promoted all officers by one rank each and awarded the Order of Both Sicilies to those who were not yet decorated with it. The relevant decrees were written in all royal chancery style, so that the clerks available in Ajaccio had to be diligent enough in their work.

Joachim entrusted the supreme command of the flotilla to the frigate Captain Barbara, a Maltese by birth, who had been given the baronate by Murat.

On 25 September, Colonel Maceroni had arrived in the port of Bastia, from where, after learning that Murat had departed from Vescovato, he had telegraphed his imminent arrival in Ajaccio. At noon on the 28th, he arrived in the capital of Corsica and went to Joachim without delay to inform him of the conditions of the Great Powers, to hand over the travel documents for the journey to Trieste and to enclose his most urgent ideas not to reject the offer made to him out of hand. At the same time, the British Captain Bastard, who had long ago arrived in the port of Bastia with the frigate Mäander and two sloops of cannon, offered to take the ex-king across the sea. But it was impossible to have a sensible word with him. If the Corsicans, for whom he had never done anything, had welcomed him so enthusiastically, would this be less the case in Naples, which he had showered with benefits as king? And should he abandon the hundreds who had now joined him to the revenge of the French government? And if his enterprise failed, what could happen to him? That his person should be secured and that he should be kept in some remote place like his brother-in-law! - When his faithful congratulated him on the unexpected salvation opened up to him by the offer of Emperor Franz, he exclaimed: "Of course, I will go to Austria, so that one morning I may be found strangled in the bosom of my family! I would rather go to Constantinople! But no, even there I would be killed!" Nevertheless, he wrote a letter to Maceroni in which he did not necessarily reject the proposal of the allied powers, but reserving the right to consider it as soon as he would be with his family. He explained that he had to decline Bastard's invitation because it had been made in an improper manner: "une sommation trop peu mesurée"; no doubt the captain had addressed him simply as "Marshal Murat".

Carabelli also arrived in Ajaccio that day and had a conversation with the ex-king, without achieving anything other than encouraging the ill-fated man in his intentions.

Helfert comments on the arrival of the Neapolitan Carabelli in a footnote with reference to two other reports:

Franceschetti p. 39-41 and Colletta-Gallois p. 30 f. present the matter as if the Neapolitan government had sent Ignazio Carabelli, who is supposed to have joined his brother Simone after his arrival in Corsica, in order to play the agent provocateur with Murat and lure him to Naples. This is not only contradicted by Ricciardi's explicit testimony, but also by the entire situation and mood at the Court of Naples, where Murat's ventures were feared, not desired. It is downright nonsensical when Colletta-Gallois add the remark: "Ainsi on était informé à Naples de tout ce qui se passait en Corse". Was there an undersea telegraph at that time? Lambruschini, who certainly hurried to bring his well-meant warnings to the ex-king, needed seven days from Rome to Bastia, 6 to 12 October, and Ignaz Carabelli was certainly not sent by Minister Medici before mid-September, probably only after the 18th, when Jablonovski had his conversation with the king. Now Carabelli, who no doubt had a government ship at his disposal, may have managed his passage to Bastia more quickly than Lambruschini; but from Bastia he still had the arduous land route or the circumnavigation of Cape Bianco in the north or Cape Bonifazio in the south - Maceroni had taken a full three days from Bastia to Ajaccio!  - so that he certainly did not meet Murat before the 28th, which is also consistent with explicit witness statements. And then one should have been informed in Naples "de tout ce qui se passait en Corse"!

The text continues:

Before midnight Murat wrote a second long letter to Maceroni, in which there was no longer any question of yielding: "I will never accept the conditions which you have been instructed to impose on me; for me they are nakedly and simply tantamount to an abdication, for which I am offered the sole advantage of being allowed to live in perpetual slavery and under the arbitrary control of a despotic government. I have not abdicated, I have the right to reclaim my crown if God gives me the strength and the means to do so! I place freedom above all else; captivity is death to me. What treatment have I to expect from these powers who made me spend two months under the daggers of the assassins of Marseilles! I have laid down my life a thousand times in battle for the fatherland: shall I not be allowed to lay it down once for my own interest?"

Immediately afterwards, he went to the ships, the anchors were lifted and they set out into the open sea. The citadel of Ajaccio, whose crew had not dared to take any action against the Muratists, sent a few live rounds after the flotilla, which, however, did no damage because the flotilla was already out of range. The sky was clear, the sea calm. But on the 29th a storm came up and the small squadron had to drop anchor on the 30th at the deserted island of Tavolara, on the north-east coast of Sardinia. On 1 October, they set sail again and on the 4th were so close to the coast of Naples that they could see Vesuvius. The ex-king's mad plan of taking Ferdinand by surprise in Portici now flashed through his mind again, but he let himself be talked out of it and they steered south towards Calabria. On the 6th Paola was in sight. Efforts were made to anchor: a storm arose and four of the ships were driven far out to sea, only the felucca of Battalion Commander Courrand remained near the vessel carrying the "King". On the 7th they waited for the others to return; when they did not show themselves, a landing was nevertheless to be attempted. A muleteer and one of Joachim's old guard came along the way and Major Ottaviani was disembarked to question them. Their answers did not inspire confidence; they also attracted the attention of the beach guard, from whom two blind shots were fired, demanding obedience. Ottaviani was again put ashore, then two sailors and Baron Barbara, who identified themselves to the local authorities as "Frenchmen on a journey to Tunis"; for Barbara had provided himself with passports to that effect in Corsica. Nevertheless, the officials became suspicious and detained Ottaviani and one of the sailors; only the other sailor and Barbara were released. Murat did not want to abandon his men, but in the end he followed prudent considerations and set sail for Amantea and then even further south.

Courrand's behaviour now became so suspicious that Captain Pernice and Lieutenant Moltedo, who were on his ship, insisted on being transferred to Barbara's barque; indeed, Courrand disappeared with his vessel the following night and was never seen again. Murat had only one ship left, and now for the first time pusillanimity came over him. He had only a handful of men with him; he saw that his enterprise would be foolhardy. He ordered Galvani to throw the copies of the manifesto and the decree into the sea and decided to sail to Trieste in order to make use of the offer of the Emperor of Austria and of his passport, which he had prudently kept with him. But for this they needed money, food and above all a larger ship. They were near Pizzo and Murat wanted to disembark here in order to procure what they needed. Barbara objected to this plan, an exchange of words ensued, Murat became passionate, and all his good intentions were blown out of the water. The ideas of the more superior, and the entreaties of his faithful valet not to run to his ruin, did not succeed: he, the "king," commanded, and the others had to obey. "I have only done good to the Neapolitans," he cried, "they cannot have forgotten me, they will hasten to my aid!"

The barge struck the shore, the officers were eager to jump out of the ship, but Murat refused them: "It is for me to be the first to set foot on the soil of my kingdom." And with that he was ashore. He had enough deliberation left to order Captain Barbara to lead his ship into a sheltered bay close by to be ready for any eventuality. It was on the 8th of October, a Sunday, between 11 and 12 o'clock in the morning.

[treeni]

Sanders Side Theory: Creativity’s Name and Roman’s Struggles

Theories Masterpost

Well, apparently some people were interested in my Orange side theory and stuff.

So let’s talk about “King Creativity” and why I disagree with every name theory I’ve seen so far and what I think instead. I’m not certain “King Creativity” is ever going to be named in the show, just knowing he existed is probably enough, but wouldn’t it be fantastic if there was a backstory episode? Or even aside episode?

First! Let’s start with the fact that I actually think it’s really interesting that everyone’s defaulting to Creativity being “King” when it is in fact Emperors who ruled Rome. Not a criticize, just interesting thought. Second, Kings were supposed to sit back and let their knights and armies basically do all of the physical work (Unless your Arthur, but it usually got him into trouble so! Moving on!) while you lead them as whatever supreme ruler title you take. However, a Crowned Prince was often at the head of said adventures and battles, in the thick of it all, but was basically indisputably the accepted next in line. (Approved by the courts and all that jazz, I mean historically it didn’t always go that way, but that was the intention). However, a regular Prince and a Duke could absolutely have a power struggle, especially in the situation where the Duke was previously “next in line” before the Prince’s birth. So if Roman and Remus ever did duke it out (also mini theory that Remus chose Duke for the fighting reference) I think one of them could/would become King, but I don’t think that’s who creativity was before the split.

Now I have a particular crowned prince in mind that creativity is named after, but lets not get ahead of ourselves. Let’s start by talking about some of the most popular theories and why I disagree with them.

CW: for before the “Keep Reading” section. There is mention of metaphorical and fictional murder, war, lgbt theory (not that, that should surprise anyone). Roman backstory (aka things he might regret now.)

Romulus: While I suppose it’s convenient in the fact that its sort of the names combined, Romulus is already the role that Roman is filling in his relationship with Remus. Twins that supposedly found Rome, but Romulus killed his brother Remus to do so and become the ruler. Romulus literally named Rome after himself. This isn’t a hint, this isn’t something that’s upcoming or anything, this is backstory. Roman is literally just a modernized version of the name Romulus. Remus’ banishment to the darkside was his metaphorical murder. It also suggests that Roman took an active role in sending Remus away, which also helps explain a lot of Roman’s current struggle with Janus. Can you imagine the kind of guilt he might be feeling if he was the one who decided his brother was evil and he was good and then he passed judgement? If the darksides aren’t evil, then Roman and he metaphorically murdered Remus, then he wasn’t the hero slaying the beast anymore. Instead, he’s suddenly the bad guy.

Buuuut Treeni, what about Patton??? I hear you say. It would have had to have been morality right?

And to that I say you’re WRONG! And also right. Patton’s kinda been shown to be the most accepting bean of the whole lot, he doesn’t really try to force the others away the way some of the other sides do. Instead, he puts his foot down on his own convictions and refuses to listen to reason. (I didn’t say he was perfect.) Still, he doesn’t try to physically push the others away, not Virgil when he tried scaring Thomas, not Janus when they argued and Patton was clearly distressed by the courtroom situation, and not even Remus when Patton was clearly scared of him (also defensive of Roman). He doesn’t need to, he’s self-assured in his own place and convictions that he doesn’t worry about Thomas pushing him out. Instead, Patton kinda takes the family holiday party route and will do his best to put out the emotional fires and stand his ground on his opinion to Thomas when he needs to. (The ONLY time I could find Patton sort of pushing someone away was when they were in his room and Patton asked Logan to stop. While that could weaken my argument about Patton, I think it strengthens it because it shows how big of a deal it was at the time that Patton tried shutting him down. Logan reacted the way he did by immediately storming off because it’s not something Patton does.) While it could absolutely be Patton’s influence that caused the split, it would be out of character (as he’s currently defined) for Patton to actively push a side away. (I’ll get into some of his more negative aspects in another post if ya’ll wanna hear about it.)

Remember, Roman was the one who tried shutting down Virgil with bullying tactics, Logan too sometimes. Then he tried to use the same tactics on Janus when he tried putting his foot down on maintaining a black and white view point of the world after Remus’ appearance. Keep in mind that Remus actively told us that he blames Roman for his banishment. He compared himself and Roman to Cain and Able. While c!Thomas and even the audience as a whole were sort of led to think of Remus as Cain because of the “dark and evil” association, Remus is telling us that he is Abel. Roman is his destroyer. (Before you feel too bad for Remus, that misconception was also on purpose because while Remus isn’t a liar, he can manipulate a situation with honesty. Again, another post if you wanna hear about why.)

So now there is some general understanding of the twins backstory, you’ll see why Romulus would be a terrible fit for their combined name because Roman is already Romulus. Period. He’s the one who betrayed his brother by “murdering” him and taking over.

Making Romulus the name of who creativity was before because the names kinda morph together would lazy writing compared to very carefully woven details the show has had thus far (particularly in season 2). Okay, that went on a bit of a tangent, so next!

Caesar: This is a person who brought about the destruction of Rome, not the creation of it. (With Rome basically being the metaphorical state c!Thomas is living in now with clear lines between good/bad, right/wrong etc.) While it’s not a horrible ideology, it would be moving forward in a historical timeline instead of backwards. If you subscribe to the idea that Roman and Remus cannot go back to who they were (even with some kind of theoretical re-morphing) Caesar might be who they become, but it seems unlikely that is who they were. Remember that both sides are individuals now and those individual traits they’ve gained since splitting may not re-mesh cleanly back into who they once were. I personally don’t think there’s any “going back” for Creativity.

If they show him as he once was, it would likely only be in either a backstory bit or in a temporary situation where the re-combining doesn’t hold. However, if Creativity ever did become one thing again, I think it would be something completely new and I think Caesar would be a good fit for that in particular.

Aeneas: Again, it would be kinda lazy writing comparatively. Instead of using a sorta combination of the names that had some historical basis, this theory is based entirely on the idea of a convenient ancestor who quested and failed over and over to create Rome. I could have bought this had it been from lesser writers, but Thomas, Joan and the whole team do not mess around in story crafting and really carefully woven in references. I am literally degreed in writing and analysis and I keep finding myself impressed at the layers.

The name Aeneas also implies that the character Creativity was specifically questing for a change and that seems doubtful given the resentment between the brothers. Aeneas was essentially a left-over scavenger trying to scrape together a new home from what he could from already broken pieces and that does not sound like what Creativity is implied to be.

If we look at child development, I would theorize that Creativity is the oldest side. In the creative process, there are two major steps, first is information absorption, then second is application. The first thing any child must do is learn, anything and everything. The world is a limitless and imaginative playground. New material is around every corner and there it takes a while before the distinction between reality and fiction to be understood. It was probably just c!Thomas and Creativity for a while and as the others emerged, they looked up to him. It could even be potentially argued that Creativity was literally their creators.

This would imply that Aeneas would be a pretty terrible fit for him in that case because there’s nothing broken that he’s trying to salvage. The kingdom is his and c!Thomas’ to preside over with the other sides as his subjects. (c!Thomas being the distant “King” and Creativity being the “Crowned Prince”).

So, with all of that out of the way on why some of these theories are probably wrong, what do I think?

I think Creativity’s name is Hector.

Now, hear me out on this. For those of you who have read the Iliad you probably know exactly who I am referencing. You just may not know why. So stay with me here.

1. First, for those of you who don’t know, Hector was the Crowned Prince of Troy, the leader of the army that the Greeks (the perspective we’re getting) are facing off against. He’s also cousin to Aeneas, but actually accomplished things during the war beyond being saved by Aphrodite. This means he’s also an ancestor to both Romulus and Remus (albeit technically less direct). However, Hector’s family is where the royal lineage of Aeneas comes from. Though we follow the story mainly from the perspective of the Greeks (and the gods because they’re TROLLS), the Greek’s are pretty villainous in a lot of their actions throughout the story and they are most definitely the invaders. In this case, I would liken the Greek army to “outside opinion” for c!Thomas. Others interjecting their views on to someone and breaking his own beliefs. In this situation, Creativity would have been his biggest defender and hero, retreating into magical imaginary worlds to escape judgement.

2. So lets get onto the character and why him, shall we? Hector will literally do anything for his family. The war takes place because his little brother, Paris (one of a whopping 49 brothers mind you) either kidnaps, has Aphrodite kidnap or runs away with the Spartan Queen Helen because he fell in love with her. (It varies on the version and she was forced into her previous marriage at about 13 anyway, so Helen leaving willingly for the guy who the gods deem is the most attractive man alive is a popular modern reading.) It would have been so easy for the Trojans to yeet Helen back to Greece, but they don’t and Hector’s defense of her and his brother is a big reason why. Hector even chastises his brother for the mess he’s caused, but still stands by him and defends him. He also defends the hell out of Helen and refuses to blame her for their problems. Then in Troilus and Criseyde (Basically published Iliad perspective shift fanfiction with OCs) he defends the hell out of Criseyde when even Troilus, (apparently one of the 50 brothers) the person who claims to be in love with her, wont. Hector’s truly an all around good guy, great leader and has a very distinctive and personal moral compass that doesn’t always align with what’s being told to him is right. You want a character representation for someone who led the sides despite their clear struggles? Someone with Roman’s charm and heroism, and Remus’ understanding and drive? Hector is probably it.

3. Hector’s death is both a huge symbol for the end of Troy, but also isn’t? Let me explain, narratively speaking, Hector’s death is the point you know that Troy is basically doomed. His end is the representation of the end of it all. His corpse was literally paraded around as Achilles’s dragged it on the back of a chariot for days to show their doom. There was a distinct “aura” shift from Hector’s death as all of Troy mourned his death. We as an audience know Troy is basically doomed from Hector’s death alone. Hector was a person that even the enemy Greeks hella respected as a warrior and leader. Essentially, this was the point that the war that had been raging for about a decade became serious. At the same time, it just simply isn’t the end of the war. There’s the whole horse thing still to come and all that jazz. Still though, Hector’s death is very much a symbol of “everything changes, but nothing does.” Which is the perfect symbol for the twins split to me. Just because they split doesn’t mean that all of the sides did immediately, yet it was still probably the turning point that drove a wedge between the “dark” and “light” sides.

4. The character Hector arguably died in the name of gay love. Okay, story time. So in the Iliad, Achilles is being a little bitch and refusing to fight anymore because drama between him and the king of Athens, but he’s their best fighter and the Greek’s are basically sorta loosing because of him not helping. His boyf- I mean best friend Patroclus goes out in Achilles armor and leads his army in his place because Achilles is a whiny baby. Except Hector kinda immediately kills Patroclus, thinking he’s Achilles with reinforcements.(This was full body armor baby and distinctive cause baby of a god and all that mocha frappe.) Of course, Achilles has to immediately get angry revenge for his boyf- BEST friend and ends up killing Hector. This would make the character Hector a great metaphor for Creativity if his split had anything to do with sexuality or even acceptance as a whole. (Though we know acceptance is definitely a part of it considering Remus.) We know that Remus wants c!Thomas to explore darker themes and the struggle of sexuality and acceptance could be a possibility in what is to come as a previously “off-limits” theme.

5. A big one is that the destruction of Troy is what eventually brought about the creation of Rome. Essentially Troy would be the metaphor of c!Thomas’ existence/mentality before the sides split into dark/light factions. Then Rome would be the metaphor of c!Thomas’ existence/mentality after the sides split into factions.

6.Finally, the name Hector literally means “to restrain” which would work well for Creativity as he was likely trying to reign in the others from infighting (and you can see how well that went with him being gone). 

Cheers to another rant into the void. Huzzah! God this is nearly as long as some of my seminar papers. Do what you will with this information.

Please keep in mind that I adore Roman as a character. This post isn’t meant to hate on him. It’s meant to bring awareness of the layers of his character. Every Prince Charming was a villain to someone, every hero that slays the beast is a murderer from a different light. 

I don’t bring these things to light to cause pain, I bring them to light to help bring awareness of what’s probably going through his head.

(Yes, in regards to the Creativity being made first thing, I DO even have a theory about existence order, I promise you I have theories about everything. My mind does not stop with this crap. I have theories on everything from what animal association Roman and Logan have to Virgil’s key role in Roman’s backstory. I’ve ranted about a bunch of these things to a few specific people so if you ever want me to go on a rant about anything in particular let me know. I didn’t expect anyone to actually look at the other theory post tbh. Inbox me if you want me to go to unnecessary lengths on something else.)

(Also, correct me on the Patton thing if I’m wrong. I took notes on a recent watch through, but I wasn’t specifically looking for his rejection sooo, if there are other moments of it you can find that didn’t jump out at me I totally accept criticism.)

[florrickandassociates]

TGF Thoughts: 4x01-- The Gang Deals with Alternate Reality

I had a lot to say about this one, guys. 

Welcome back! I see this season TGF has decided to be It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Is this some sort of joke about how last season it was always raining? Is every title going to be like this? And where are the numbers!? There is no counting of any kind in this episode title! 

When you think about it, the central argument of this episode-- that 45’s election brought new life to resistance movements that would’ve otherwise laid dormant-- is also my central argument about why TGF is a good show instead of a passable one. Remember how in season one the point of the show was supposed to be a fake scandal about Maia? 

So it’s fitting that we begin season four by going back to the show’s pilot: Inauguration Day. Only this time, Diane is happily watching Hillary Clinton’s inauguration. Did I say happily? I meant ecstatically. 

As Diane pops champagne, the TV goes to static-- something’s off-- and the credits begin. Same credits as season 3 but with one key difference: things are coming together rather than exploding. I see what you did there. (The TVs still explode, though, and they still have the real 45 on them.)

Yeah I didn’t need to see the credits to know the Kings wrote this one. 

I think the notes the Kings left in the script for this episode for Brooke Kennedy just said, “Make Diane look like a glamorous badass.” I’m like one minute in and she’s already popped champagne and worn trendy sunglasses.

Brooke’s directing in this episode is so stylish and it might be my favorite ep she’s ever done? The showiness (and sometimes campy performances) REALLY work for the tone of this episode. 

Diane takes the elevator to work and looks quizzical. One may be tempted to ask how Diane knows to go to RBL if it’s the day after inauguration and she’s still at Lockhart Deckler whatever (one may then snark that RBL is in the LG space so she’d go there no matter what). The answer is: dream logic! 

(But really, little disorienting moments like that-- and yes, I know this was probably only disorienting for me and one other person-- help the episode work long before we know this isn’t a true alternate universe.)

Marissa is waiting at reception to inform Diane that HRC’s press secretary is in her office. Diane then asks Marissa who the president is, and Marissa asks Diane if she’s microdosing again. Ha! Also, that’s another clear clue that something’s up-- Diane wouldn’t have already microdosed right after inauguration. And why would Diane have microdosed in this AltVerse? Again-- dream logic. And I love it. In episodes like this, when things don’t add up, it’s wonderfully disorienting instead of frustrating. (Plus, this line is a knowing wink at fans about the absurdity of the microdosing storyline.)

Marissa confirms that it’s 2020 in show time. Diane has a flash of a selection of horrific images that have come out of these last few years, then says, ”God, have you ever had a dream that is so real that it takes you a long time to wake up?” I wish.

Diane wants to know how Hillary won, and Marissa says she won in a landslide-- 3 million votes. “Same as in my dream,” Diane says. Marissa thinks she means the other candidate had 3 million more votes, and wonders how he won if he had fewer votes. On one hand, Marissa totally knows about the electoral college. On the other hand, would “3 million votes” and hating the electoral college be cliched and top of mind enough to work as the joke in this scene if those votes had actually mattered? Probably not. I doubt many people would be talking about abolishing the electoral college, or that Marissa or even Diane would be SO quick to understand how one could win the popular vote and not the election, if we hadn’t all lived through the past three years. Also dream logic. It’s a great way of explaining things that are out of character.

“Whatever, it’s a dream, it doesn’t have to make sense,” says Marissa, making my point for me.

Oh hello there Lucca, your jacket is very bright. Lucca asks to sit in on Diane’s meeting with the press secretary. Lucca was up for a partnership in 3x10 but in this episode she’s very obviously an underling (and honestly seems a bit lower ranking and hesitant than usual-- I’ll need another episode or two to understand if this is how the writers are writing Lucca, how Diane views Lucca, or just what was easiest for the plot). 

The White House is now asking Diane to take on cases. Way to dream big, Diane!

And Diane will be arguing in front of the Supreme Court! 

In the alternate universe, Liz’s wonderful bathroom belongs to Diane.

Diane gets to do so many things she wouldn’t usually do in this ep, like furiously shake her head to prove to herself she’s not dreaming! 

Diane still has that Girl With Flower As Head painting and I do not believe she would have that painting if HRC were president because it’s too friggin weird. Also has it always had a US flag in the background?

In the alternate universe, Garland and Warren (as in Elizabeth) are both on the court. It’s a good laughline precisely because it’s so plausible. (Well, idk about the Warren part, but she’s a recognizable name.)

Diane looks so happy she could cry when she learns Warren is on the Supreme Court. 

There is a shot of Lucca that is so very clearly from Diane’s POV and I like it. I read a review of this episode that said it didn’t have enough character development. To that I say, one, this isn’t TGW-- this show has always been more about tone and theme, and two, there’s PLENTY here that’s about Diane’s POV and how she views others and thinks of herself. Because it’s dream logic I can’t make nearly as much out of it as I can make out of an episode like A Few Words, but there are little touches here and there. Even this shot of Lucca, where Lucca’s in the center of the frame shot from a high angle, grounds me in Diane’s POV. You could even make an argument about hierarchy based on the angle. 

“Who’s that?” Lucca whispers when Diane asks about Kavanaugh. Diane is elated at that response. 

Somehow we leave Diane’s POV (whatever, it’s a dream so I won’t be as brutal to this choice as I was to a similar but more subtle one in Don’t Fail) and follow Lucca into Adrian’s office. She immediately tells Liz and Adrian she’s concerned about Diane. That sounds like Lucca alright. 

Diane is DANCING in her office as she watches news coverage that isn’t a garbage fire.

I’m curious y’all-- are people in your area cheering at a certain time? Hearing cheers every night during this pandemic is one of the few things I like about this awful moment in time. (My recap writing was just interrupted by cheering, if you couldn’t guess the reason for this abrupt digression.) 

News stories in alternate reality: Cancer has been cured, there is polar bear overpopulation, the rainforest has been saved, 45 is REDUCING the amount of content he’s putting out into the world, and $35,000 is missing from some government agency. Ha. All that and people are hung up on $35,000? Sounds about right, actually.

Diane hugs Liz and Adrian because she feels like a weight has been lifted off of her. I appreciate that Diane acts without restraint or concern for what other people think in this episode. This is central to why I think this episode is actually a pretty good character study: this is who Diane imagines herself to be, more or less. Real Diane, no matter how bizarre things are, probably would handle herself more professionally in a work meeting and probably wouldn’t let feelings like this show. Dream Diane has no reason to double check herself. This is just how she thinks she’d react if there were absolutely no constraints. Not that she’s actively thinking- she’s just doing. 

Diane is very excited to be watching the news, and Adrian thinks she’s nuts-- there are scandals! Like the missing $35k and THE EMAILS. The GODDAMN EMAILS. Even a fictional joke about how they’d still be a scandal makes me mad. Twenty years from now it will still be too soon to remind me of the emails. (And to play Fight Song, that song is cancelled.)

A haircut is also a scandal because sexism.

I admire this show for calling attention to problems on both sides without ever screaming BOTH SIDES ARE EQUALLY BAD. This episode may call out some of the good things that have happened as a result of the 2016 election, but the whole premise of this joke rests on the fact that only one of the two potential administrations could run through a year’s worth of scandals in a day. 

Might circle back to this later on-- btw I write these after watching the whole episode, so I do know what’s going to happen next-- but I don’t think the show is trying to make the case that it’s good 45 was elected. I think they’re trying to ask questions about how the world has changed and cause and effect so we can understand the moment we’re in. Above, I said I liked hearing my neighbors cheer every night. And I could write a lot of words on how that collective activity inspires me, makes me feel connected even when I’ve been stuck inside for a month, etc, how I’ve gotten better about keeping in touch with old friends, whatever, and NONE of that would mean that a global pandemic is a good thing. It just means that like any huge societal phenomenon, its implications are complex. 

TGF and TGW have always, always, always been shows about understanding where we are in time. That’s what this episode does. And it makes sense to do a thought experiment like this now, at the start of season 4, in a season opener. We’ve had enough time living in this world that we can reflect on it.

Diane laughs, because what Diane dream sequence would be complete without a glorious laugh?

Adrian’s kinda suspicious of Hillary. Sure, cancer’s been cured, but it’s not public how or when! 

God it’s weird to hear some of the most absurd happenings of the last three years as punchlines. 

The line about the Obama’s overall deal at Netflix is fire. 

Diane laughs AGAIN. 

Oh right, Harriet Tubman was going to be on the $20 bill. (Is it obvious yet that I am the exact right target for this episode?)

Julius is VERY mad about Hillary’s $500 haircut. Heh. He’s also publicly supporting Trump which is interesting (and probably a dream logic thing; Diane knows he supported Trump therefore in her dream he isn’t ever hesitant to share that he voted for Trump.)

“Only Hillary could cure cancer and turn it into a scandal,” someone else adds. I’m loving all these jokes. He is mad cancer wasn’t cured earlier and that it’s been cured in an election year. This joke is funny because it’s exactly what would happen in this scenario.

I wonder if Julius would be more likely to speak up about his political affiliation if the stakes were lower. If 45 lost, then is supporting him as much of a thing to hide in a place like RBL? People would be mad but they probably would get over their moral opposition to his views a lot faster when it isn’t a real threat.

Diane’s brought in a huge client, which is news to her. And that client is none other than Harvey Weinstein, which… my God this is an interesting thought experiment. 

“I’m amazed you got him away from Lisa Bloom,” Adrian says. YIKES!!!! (If y’all haven’t read Catch and Kill yet, pick up a copy ASAP.)

No one’s heard of Weinstein’s sexual assault issues. I believe it. I mean, I think some women in power might have known before 2017-- I still vividly recall how many journalists reacted to the release of the story not with “Oh my God, how has this been going on for so long?” but with “Holy shit, someone managed to publish a story about this?!”-- but I’ll believe that the general consensus in elite liberal circles was to set the rumors aside and not share them widely.

I can’t watch this episode without thinking about VIP Treatment (2x05 of TGW). That episode, which raises the question of what happens when someone accuses a liberal legend of sexual assault, feels so ahead of its time. It aired in 2010. And I just, right this moment, learned that it was ripped from the headlines about accusations a masseuse made against Al Gore. Guys. I didn’t know there were allegations in 2010 about Al Gore. Is that because I was 16 in 2010 and just never heard of (or forgot about) the story? Is it because he had less power? Is it because of something specific about the reporting or the allegations? Or is it because we as a culture swept it under the rug since it was (allow me to be the millionth person to make this awful joke) an inconvenient truth? 

I don’t know the answers to the above. What I do know is that this episode is making me ask those questions.

In Marissa’s world (“you mean reality?”), 45 bragged about grabbing women by the pussy and then lost the election. And the story ended there. There was no women’s march, no #MeToo.

Sarah Steele gets to react to a lot of things in this episode and it is very delightful to see her say things like, “what are pussy hats?”

Diane looks so angry and stunned when she realizes that Weinstein is still “a thing” in the world. 

He won the Presidential Medal of Freedom because of course he did. 

His wikipedia page says his only controversies are about his managerial style. Yikes.

Marissa’s reaction to the phrase “masturbating into plants” is one of the best things about this episode. I love that she gets so hung up on it. 

Charlie Rose is the first name other than Weinstein that comes to mind for Diane when Marissa asks what other men were serial harassers. I’ve got to think that Rose gets the most attention here in no small part because he was part of the CBS family-- he was even on TGW. 

I’ve seen Annaleigh Ashford in so many things recently. 

Diane handles the meeting with Team Weinstein VERY poorly (she also does not care to handle it well), while Adrian covers with the “all options are open to us” gibberish that Diane absolutely would be able to convincingly deploy in a meeting she couldn’t follow. I point this out because it shows that 1) Diane isn’t behaving the way she would in reality and 2) Diane does not give a fuck. 

If this were reality, would Diane push so hard in this meeting? I don’t know. This situation is so far removed from reality it’s hard to tell. But my sense is that Diane would like to think of herself as someone who would never waver in her commitment to Doing The Right Thing, but she’d probably be a lot more diplomatic-- even in real 2020-- in initial meetings. It’s a bit dated at this point, but in VIP Treatment Diane was hesitant to believe the victim because the man accused of assault was a high profile liberal. To her credit, she does eventually choose the victim over her own politics. But I could totally see Diane-- with no knowledge of the real timeline-- behaving like her friend/HRC’s press secretary Zoe does in this episode.

All that to say: personally, I don’t think #MeToo would’ve caught on to the extent it did if women weren’t already angry. I believe there could have been a hashtag and some stories (maybe even the Weinstein story). But I also believe women felt an urgent need to speak out and organize. And I believe that more women were inclined to believe victims and get angry. And I believe that it was only because of the world in general that #MeToo spread outside of a few online circles. To put it another way, you know how there are sometimes cases of the week on this show where you might know the reference in detail, but if you ask a co-worker or friend about it they’ll know either nothing or only the very basics? I think all of #MeToo could’ve ended up like one of those cases if it hadn’t played out with 2017 in the background.

Dreams aren’t subtle: Weinstein’s publicity tour includes appearances with Charlie Rose and Matt Lauer. (This joke also serves as a reminder that sexual harassment is a systemic problem.)

Diane is SO confrontational in this meeting. Also, the woman they’re meeting with is SO FRIGGIN COMPLICIT. 

Weinstein’s team frames sexual assault allegations-- which are still floating around even in alt2020-- as a Republican conspiracy. I have no doubt they would have used this approach if given the chance. 

I’m on page six and fifteen minutes in, damn.

Adrian, or Diane’s version of Adrian, does not believe women and seems to hate Hillary Clinton a little bit too. An accurate portrayal of Adrian? Lines that betray Diane’s suspicion of where Adrian stands on women’s issues? Or just that Adrian is there to be the person pushing back and it could’ve been anyone? (I think it’s somewhere between the first two, personally. If this could’ve been anyone, why not Liz?) 

In this alternate universe NBC’s refusal to broadcast Ronan Farrow’s investigation is proof of Weinstein’s innocence, because in the alt universe we still apparently have faith in the corporate culture at NBC. (Perhaps the most surprising thing to me about Catch and Kill is that a LOT of it is dedicated to exposing the shit that went down within NBC. It’s fascinating and also makes it crystal clear how assault is a systemic problem and not just a few bad apples you should avoid being alone with.)

Adrian’s reaction when Diane mentions Reddick (Adrian knows nothing of the accusations in this universe) changes the tone of this scene in an instant and it’s breathtaking. This is the one moment in the episode where she knows she has to shut up. 

The one thing about this ep I am not sure I buy is that the firm is struggling because of the rise in corporate taxes. But I know so little about this issue I don’t care if it’s right or wrong. 

After Diane leaves Adrian’s office, Liz asks, “What about my dad?” meaning she somehow heard the conversation through the wall. (The door was definitely closed so either their office design is worse than I thought or it’s just dream logic.) Diane doesn’t share the rumor with Liz.

Lucca is for some reason on this case, and they are for some reason in court on the same day they learned about the case. And the best part is that I don’t have to worry about whether or not this is plausible BECAUSE IT’S ALL A DREAM

Another thing I’ll say about this ep-- it’s pace remarkably well. The opening previews what’s to come, there’s just enough happy liberal utopia with funny jokes at the start, the Weinstein twist comes at the right moment, and the shift to the more dark, character focused scenes that wrap up the episode come exactly when the writers have gotten as much mileage as they can out of this premise. I knew this episode would be fantastic the moment I saw it was only 41 minutes long.

The judge keeps saying the opposing counsel’s full name, Ann Howard. Is this supposed to be a familiar name to me? I am not getting the reference. 

The judge’s ruling is basically that no one would take the risk involved in assaulting someone at work these days so the case must be bogus. And then we see, immediately (because, dream) that the judge is totally corrupt and just wants to get his daughter an internship with Weinstein. 

“Justice is an equation. Justice equals the law times the zeitgeist. The law on its own doesn’t stand up. You need the mood of the times on your side,” Diane eloquently explains. That’s basically what this episode is saying. To put it more simply: Context matters and nothing happens in a vacuum. (TGF and TGW were always about the context-- you simply couldn’t do a show about a woman standing by her cheating politician husband and being REVERED for it in 2020. That’s not about the law, but the same principle applies.)

Lucca says they won, so the zeitgeist worked for them-- and how could it be against women when the president is a woman? Remember how the Kings used to say that TGF was going to be about Diane retiring because she thought the glass ceiling had been shattered? I always thought that sounded wrong, but this episode is helping me understand what they were thinking a little bit. 

Lucca calls out Diane, a bit abruptly, on how only the woman partners probably would get to say “no more” if there were to be a women’s movement because the associates can’t risk it. Lucca’s right and she’s wrong-- her words underestimate how mainstream and trendy it’s become to publicly talk about sexual harassment, but she’s 100% right that there are still underlying power dynamics.

Diane’s Lucca is V V V V V V V concerned with power dynamics and VERY much wants to be higher ranking. On the one hand, actual Lucca wants to rank higher too. On the other, is there a piece of Diane that sees Lucca as power hungry? 

Lucca’s asked to take documents to Weinstein, and she’s flattered. Diane, like every viewer, sees this as a car crash in slow motion. She knows exactly what will happen when Lucca gets to his hotel with the documents. But Lucca, who’s in the dark, only knows it’s a good opportunity to impress a huge client.

Diane tells Weinstein’s… whatever she is? That she is “Harvey’s pimp” and she is not wrong. Also since I don’t actually know this woman’s job title I’ll just refer to her that way moving forward.

(See what I mean about Diane just saying things that are totally unprofessional bc this is a dream Diane who does what she wants and not actual Diane making tough decisions?)

Lucca is REALLY bitter about how Diane is always taking opportunities away from her. They’re definitely trying to do something with Lucca in this episode but as I said earlier, I think I need to see what they have planned for the rest of the season before I can fully understand what they’re going for. 

Diane tells Lucca exactly what is going to happen when she goes to drop off the papers. Lucca won’t hear it, so Diane asks Marissa to keep an eye on her.

Another possibility for what they’re trying to do with Lucca (and Adrian): Maybe it’s supposed to be about how different Types would react-- the powerful man who benefits from not questioning things and has some latent sexism issues; the ambitious young woman who gets caught in a bad situation because she’s trying to move her career forward. The more I think about it, the more I think this is what they’re going for-- and the question I should be asking is what does it mean about Adrian and Lucca (in terms of how the writers see them, in terms of how Diane sees them) that they can take on these roles so easily?

(It may say nothing about Diane because… idk, do YOU do thoughtful character analysis in your sleep? Because I don’t!)

Marissa is still stuck on the plants and I love it.

Lucca catches Marissa right away, but all that accomplishes is that both of them clearly see that Diane is right. These scenes feel a little unnecessary (they’re also not in Diane’s POV, though surely dreams can have tangents) and I think they’re only here to illustrate how the system works. I can’t imagine this scene is teaching many people new information.

Also there’s… just not another scene with Lucca in this episode? And I don’t know if I feel like that’s a bad thing or like it’s part of dream logic? I think it’s probably just bad plotting that the unnecessary sequence ends abruptly and doesn’t return.

“With the presidency, women can do whatever they want,” says one of Diane’s liberal friends at a women’s event. I’m… not 100% sure anyone would say this. If this were true why would they even be having a gala for a women’s charity? But point taken. People love this type of statement.

So Diane’s extremely low cut dress like has a mesh thing covering her exposed chest??I can’t figure it out. 

Weinstein is also a hero to everyone at the feminist charity. When Diane hears this, she gives an interview to a reporter about having a long way to go, which I 100% believe would be the message no matter reality we’re in what because literally no one is going to say please donate to my cause we have no battles left to fight BUT I DIGRESS. Diane tries to ignite #MeToo (and even name checks Tarana Burke, so that’s awesome) and is quickly cut off.

Then, after giving the interview, she has Jay (hello!) set her up on Twitter. Dream Diane is revealing just how little she understands how social media works. She also wants to link to a “Me Too Site” which is… not how any of this works, Diane.

Diane sees herself on the news-- she’s mostly cut from the piece and her words are taken out of context. 

Adrian and Liz stare Diane down for calling Weinstein’s pimp a pimp and Diane defends herself. Liz doesn’t believe this either. Diane is asked to sign a VERY RIDICULOUS (like it sounds like 45 more than anything else) apology letter and laughs. 

Liz reminds her that they’re close to bankruptcy and that they’ve defended killers before (oh, and, most relevant-- the assholes to avoid case, I can’t believe I went to 205 to think about how Diane would react in a more nuanced present day situation when I had that example!), why would Diane draw the line here? “Everyone deserves a defense. Just not everyone deserves MY defense,” Diane says. You know it’s a dream when a character on this show actually says that. Do you know how many times (if you’re still reading this you probably do know) I have written something to the effect of “SAYING EVERYONE DESERVES REPRESENTATION IS NOT THE SAME AS REPRESENTING THEM YOURSELF, LIZ/DIANE/ADRIAN/WILL/ALICIA/CARY/LUCCA/WHOEVER”? It’s been a lot. 

(Here is something I wrote in a case in which Diane, at the height of #MeToo, defended some assholes for money: “‘I wouldn’t say hate. We’re obligated,’ Diane says. Ohhh yes this is a new pet peeve. Y’all are not obligated. You were not assigned this case. You chose to take it for the money.”)

Idk what my point is here, maybe that this feels like a dream because the characters are never this principled in reality.

Zoe, the press secretary, wants Diane to shut down #MeToo. Lucca’s there too, but she says nothing (despite the experience she may have just had, because dream). Zoe doesn’t want women to get angry about abuse because “that’s not the message that helps us in 2020.” Ooof. But I buy it. I am not sure if it’s ACCURATE that anger wouldn’t help but I can completely see campaign staffers being afraid it would hurt, especially given that Bill Clinton has… more than a few issues. 

This scene veers into Diane’s POV. The camera gets closer and closer to her as she feels boxed in, and Liz, Adrian, and the pimp stare accusingly at her. Suddenly she realizes she doesn’t know where Kurt is because she’s spent the last few days at work. I think the most dream-like thing about this is the way Kurt just suddenly pops into the dream and shifts the tone of the whole thing. 

She runs off. Liz and Adrian ask Diane to step back from the firm for Weinstein and she’s like, okay, I’m going home, “I don’t know how I changed my clothes, I went to that event last night and I have different clothes on now and I don’t know where Kurt is.” I LOVE watching this whole episode twist into something this weird.

When Diane gets home, there’s a man fixing her door. He’s watching Trump TV, which is currently airing Felix Staples singing “This Wall is Your Wall” and honestly this is the best use of Felix Staples in the show so far.

The man fixing Diane’s door also remembers reality. He doesn’t know why he’s fixing Diane’s door. It’s disorienting. 

Diane gets a beer with the man fixing her door and wonders about if she even likes this world where HRC is president (or if the problem is just that she doesn’t believe it). (I think she’d like it just fine if she experienced it linearly, tbh.)

Sexy gun lady from a previous episode is back, and Kurt’s guns are missing because he didn’t want them to be confiscated (I do not believe this would ever be a policy but this is a full on illogical dream right now) and now Diane is talking to the TV.

“I’m in the car, right?” Diane says while standing in her bedroom and pretending to grab a steering wheel. Heh. 

Diane drives to a cabin in the woods (the way this is shot is SO atmospheric) and finds Kurt, in shadow, in the woods. So THIS is what Robert King was going for in Mind’s Eye in the clumsily directed scene with fake Will in shadow. Gotta say, the whole “person you love and can’t quite picture” thing works a ton better when it is obvious it’s an intentional style choice.

This scene is so weird because suddenly politics doesn’t matter and Diane only cares about Kurt and also Kurt might be dead? I am not sure I understand what this is saying. And I’m pretty sure I spent the entirety of this scene the first time through alternating between thinking “ooh pretty”, “this is what 614 wanted to be,” and “please don’t kill Kurt!!”

Kurt pulls Diane to reality and gets her to recap where we left off. She wakes up on the floor of her bedroom. She and Kurt have both, thankfully, survived Book Club’s SWATting. 

HA the first thing Diane says when she wakes up is “What happened?” which… that HAS to be intentional right???? 

To check that Diane is of sound mind, one of the agents asks her how many fingers he’s holding up and who’s president. She laughs. 

This episode is UNDER 40 minutes if you exclude the credits and promo.

Guess we’re not doing recap songs.

Had a lot to say about this one. I’ve liked TGW’s mind-y episodes more, but that’s not really a fair comparison since the point of this wasn’t character study… it was tone setting.

What this episode does NOT give me is a sense of what season 4 will be about, other than the usual absurdity. 

[lilacmoon83]

Dreaming Out Loud

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 113: The Duelists

"Are you sure about this?" Snow asked nervously, as she held the baby and rocked him gently and he started to fuss. Eli smiled at his little girl and put his hands on her shoulders.

"Yes...I'm sure. I'll be right there with you, but you are my heir. It's time for you and David to rule in my stead. You both are amazing leaders and you are the strong rulers that this Kingdom deserves," Eli said. Snow sighed and straightened her dress. It wasn't a ball gown and as formal as it might have been in their old land. They had decided that they would only continue to use Enchanted Forest fashions for balls, coronations, and very formal events. They had decided that the clothing native to the Land Without Magic made much more sense for their busy lives as rulers and parents. David was ruling beside her, but still continuing to police the town and now all the realms with Emma.

While Emma was Sheriff of Storybrooke, David's official title would now be King, as well as Supreme Knight and charged with protecting their Kingdom and James' as well, since they had announced that the northern Kingdom would be ruling their people jointly with David's Kingdom that they had returned to James, since David wanted to rule with Snow and take on a more active role in their protection, which didn't surprise anyone. David loved working with their daughter and was the perfect person for this role. He wore semi-formal attire beside his wife for this matter of state, but would trade it for his leather jacket and jeans, alongside Emma, when it came to policing the Kingdoms.

This morning though, Eli had invited many heads of state for this announcement, though the official coronation would come later.

"He's right sweetie...you and David are the leaders this Kingdom needs," Persephone agreed, as they watched a sparkling orange portal appear and Hades step through.

"It works…" he told his wife.

"What works?" David asked.

"Well, as you know, we still want to be close to you...but I need to rule from Olympus now," Persephone answered.

"So, I created a system of portals with a spell that will connect Olympus, this castle, and James'," Hades continued.

"Isn't that kind of dangerous?" David asked wearily.

"The portals are only accessible by the hairs of the people I used in the spell. I included those of us here, David's parents and brother, Regina, Henry, Demeter, Artemis, Apollo, Neal, Rumple, Belle, and Jefferson," Hades explained.

"That way we can still be very close by at all times and you can access Olympus whenever you need or want to," Persephone added.

"That's wonderful, mother," Snow said, as they shared a hug.

"I'm still not sure about this though," she fretted. Eli hugged her briefly and then stepped up in front of the Throne to address the nobles that were gathering. They had dismissed most of his original court when they had taken back the Kingdom. He had taken great pleasure in dismissing those that had treated his little girl so horribly. But unfortunately, dismissing them didn't mean they weren't still the nobility of his Kingdom and many of them were present. James was also present with his and David's parents, since they'd also be announcing the Kingdom merger.

"Thank you all for coming," Eli began, as he brought the attention of the room to him.

"Today, I've gathered my Kingdom together to make a very special announcement. As your King, I have made the decision that it is time for me to step down and crown my heir as your ruler," he announced, which created much commotion.

"The official coronation will come later, but my daughter and son-in-law are this Kingdom's new King and Queen, as I step down into an advisory role," he continued.

"Your daughter is an illegitimate heir!" the Duke protested.

"According to you perhaps, but there has never been a more legitimate heir than my daughter and my son-in-law is the perfect person to rule with her. I may have had to bend under your protests when I was married to Ravenna, but now as sole ruler of my Kingdom, you no longer have any power and she can no longer threaten this Kingdom with war!" he stated firmly.

"My daughter is the rightful Queen of this Kingdom and her husband will be her King," he announced.

"As our first decree as this Kingdom's rulers…" Snow began to say, as she and David joined hands.

"We're announcing that our Kingdom will merge with King James'," Snow announced.

"And the union of these two Kingdoms is blessed by the Gods," Persephone decreed.

"We know that this merger will be benefit the people. No longer will the nobility be the deal makers in your Kingdom. This is a new land and a new era where democracy will rule and the people will prosper," David said, as he spoke directly to the common person. Snow smiled at him.

"My husband is right. The days of your rulers over taxing you are over and we promise to always do what is best for the majority and not just the few that are wealthy," she promised, as the meeting dispersed. The nobility was obviously very unhappy by all of this, but others had received their announcement very well and seemed to trust their new leaders, a testament to Snow and David's reputation.

David felt his phone vibrate and answered it.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Hello there mate…" came an accented voice.

"Hook?" he asked in confusion

"You know these bloody phone things are pretty handy...a nice bit of magic in a land that's not supposed to have any," Killian commented.

"What do you want, Hook?" David questioned.

"I'm just passing on a bit of interesting information that I think you may want to investigate," he said.

"Really? And what's in it for you?" David questioned.

"Touche...but I think you'll be interested to know that I saw that bloody demon Pan conversing with Blackbeard himself," Hook informed.

"Blackbeard?" David asked skeptically.

"Yes...and as bad as I've been at times, I have nothing on Blackbeard. But don't go spreading that around. If those two are talking...it's never good and nothing would give me greater pleasure than to see those two go down," Hook replied.

"Thanks for the tip, seriously...I'll look into it right away," David said, as he hung up the phone and found Hades on the other end of the room.

"Hook just called me and said he spied Pan talking to Blackbeard. He suggested that it can't be good," David mentioned.

"Blackbeard...another one of the Underworld's biggest customers. He's right...one snake is bad enough, but two like them is much worse," Hades agreed.

"Fortunately...this might be exactly what we need to get rid of Pan," he added.

"Then I'm in...whatever you need. I want to make sure that demon can't get anywhere near my son," David said eagerly.

"Then I think I have the perfect plan," Hades replied.

~*~

"Look alive slags!" Hook ordered. Upon the uniting of the realms, Killian Jones found that his crew had returned and was without a Captain. They had returned to him, though now that all the realms were in one place, he wasn't sure what kind of future he had here. He had informed the Prince about Blackbeard's dealings with Pan, simply because he hated them both and with them out of the way, it would make controlling the seas a lot easier. But with all the realms now so close together and being ruled by Persephone, it made his need for revenge against the Crocodile even more risky. The bloody Dark One was actually friends with the Prince...now a King, which still blew his mind. Charming and the Crocodile as friends still sounded like an oxymoron to him, but then he had learned since that David had very humble beginnings, not unlike Rumpelstiltskin.

"You still seek revenge, Killian Jones, but are even more uncertain how to achieve that in this new land," Claude Frollo stated, as he appeared.

"Yes...but I assure you that I do not need the likes of you to help me find my way," Hook retorted, as he moved about his ship.

"Even if I knew of something with the ability to trap someone...anyone in a place or status. A flower that can confine even an immortal and allow them to be killed," he responded. Hook paused and turned to him.

"I've lived for more than three hundred years and know just about every flower or root in the Enchanted Forest and Neverland. No such thing exists, except perhaps Dreamshade. But the Crocodile would never fall for that. He knows its dangers too," Hook replied.

"I am not talking about dreamshade. The flower I am referring to does not have a special name. It is just a simple, rare golden flower that exists in another Enchanted forest that used to be out of reach, but that is no longer the case," Frollo responded.

"That territory beyond Neverland," Hook surmised, as he looked at this new magical forest that was now in the midst.

"Yes...if this flower's golden dust were to be combined with the power of my cauldron, I would be the God ruling the United Realms," Frollo offered.

"Hmm...exchanging the benevolent rule of Persephone for one of terror in yours…" Hook said, pretending to think about it.

"Pass…" he said.

"You'll regret this. If you will not retrieve it for me, then I will make a deal with Blackbeard. Think carefully…" Frollo warned.

"Make your deal with Blackbeard if you must. I have honor and good form. Blackbeard would betray his own mother. No deal," Hook refuted, as Frollo disappeared in a puff of smoke, quite agitated by his refusal. Hook smirked.

"You may make a deal with Blackbeard, but it won't do you any good if I get this flower first," he muttered.

"Mr. Smee!" he bellowed.

"Yes Captain?" his first mate answered.

"Prepare us to set sail," he ordered.

"What is the destination, Captain?" Smee questioned.

"That new magical forest...it's time to see what it has to offer me," Hook replied.

~*~

The bell on the shop rang and Rumple instantly felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

"You have three seconds to get out…" he hissed.

"That's not a very good way to greet your father, Rum…"

"You are no father…" he hissed.

"Perhaps not...but I could be. Think about it...if we make the right moves, we can rule the United Realms. Together," Pan offered.

"I have no interest in ruling anything with you, especially not a town and Kingdoms full of zombies, which is what this place will be if you're allowed to keep eating souls," Rumple answered.

"Ah, but we both know one way that I can have the sustenance I need to join you in immortality. If I have consume a product of true love...then I will no longer need ordinary souls to sustain me," Pan explained, with a smirk.

"Think about it...there are three options for me. Emma is less desirable. Though she is powerful...her innocence is long gone. She'd give me hundreds of years for sure...but wouldn't quite get me where I need to be," he said.

"And then there is my great grandson. The grandson of the two most powerful bloodlines in existence. The lightest and the darkest. Not to mention...we both know that he has the heart of the truest believer. If I take that heart and consume his soul...I'd achieve my immortality," Pan continued.

"If you think we will let you harm our grandson…" Rumple started to say.

"Relax Rumple...as tempting as Henry is, he is also my blood," Pan responded.

"Like that has ever stopped or bothered you before," the Dark One retorted.

"True...but there is now an option that doesn't involve Henry," Pan purported.

"The baby…" Rumple muttered.

"Yes...young Alexander Nolan Charming. Another product of true love; a love written in the stars by Athena. A child born with incredible magic like his sister, but as innocent as...well a baby," Pan mused.

"You are not eating that child's soul. Believe it or not...having you in any kind of powerful position is the last thing I want," Rumple refuted. Pan frowned.

"You want to side with me, Rumple...you do not want to be my enemy," he warned.

"Besides...it's not like those two idiots won't pop out more magical babies. They gave you the one you needed for the curse and now they can give me the one I need to live," he hissed.

"Do not compare us!" the Dark One hissed, but then sobered when he saw that his father was not backing down.

"And if I refuse?" Rumple questioned.

"I'll kill them...they're souls will be nice additions," Pan threatened. Rumple glowered at him and clenched his teeth, knowing that he was referring to Bae and Belle.

"What do you need from me?" he growled. Pan smirked victoriously.

"I can handle the two idiots and even their daughter. But I need a way to neutralize Hades and Persephone," he said. Rumple sighed painfully and opened his safe, before taking out a small box and sliding it over to him on the counter.

"Pandora's box. You have to get quite close to them when you activate it, but it can trap anyone, even Gods," Rumple said. Pan smirked.

"Thank you son...you won't regret this," he said, as he disappeared in a puff of smoke. Once he did, Belle came out from the back room.

"No...I won't," Rumple said, with a smirk.

"Do you think he bought it?" she asked. He nodded.

"Of course he did. I am the Dark One, after all. He expects me to betray the heroes and family alike...because that's exactly what he would do," he replied. She smiled and kissed his cheek.

"But you're nothing like him," she said.

"Let's go...we don't want to miss the show and by that I mean...Pan's demise," he replied, as he took her hand and they left through the back of the shop.

~*~

David arrived at the docks that afternoon to follow up on Hook's tip and he spotted the pirate Blackbeard on his ship, the Queen Anne's Revenge. Naturally, he had heard of this pirate. He was a ruthless man, evil and nearly without conscious. While Hook had done some deplorable things, he knew the other pirate was the way he was because he had suffered loss in his life. It didn't excuse anything he had done, including murdering his father, but he started out as a good person. The same could not be said for Blackbeard. He did evil things and killed without a second thought, for riches or sometimes just because he felt like it. He controlled much of the seas back home, but David was determined that this wouldn't be the case here in the United Realms.

"No one is permitted aboard the ship without the Captain's permission," one of the deckhand's hissed, as he leveled his sword at David.

"This is the United Realms and the rules have changed," David said, as he flashed his badge and pushed passed the man, before making his way onto the deck.

"Well, well, it's not everyday that my humble ship is visited by a royal. And a King at that," Blackbeard announced to his crew mockingly.

"Oh believe me, I don't want to be here anymore than you want me here. But since you were spotted conspiring with an enemy to my Kingdom earlier...I'm here to investigate," David said, as he noticed the pirates began to surround him.

"Really? Conspiring with an enemy. That is a very serious charge," Blackbeard replied.

"Yeah...and you're going to tell me everything you know about what Pan is up to," David said, as he noticed the pirates drew their swords.

"Am I?" Blackbeard goaded.

"And what will you do if I don't, Prince Charming?" he questioned.

"Well, for starters, I'll take down your entire crew if they try to attack me and then you and I will duel, if you're really intent on resisting. After that, I'll cuff all of you and you'll have a nice new home in the dungeon of my castle," David said, as Blackbeard and his crew all had a good laugh at that.

"Even the illustrious Prince Charming can't take us all on," Blackbeard stated.

"But it will be fun watching you try," he added.

"Last chance...I just want to know what Pan is planning and then I'll be on my way," David warned. But they didn't heed his warning and a couple of pirates moved in. With lightning quick reflexes, David unsheathed his sword and parried their attacks.

"Stand down...I didn't hurt you on purpose. But next time, you won't be so lucky," he warned. But they ignored his warning again and he dispatched them with ease.

"Well...the stories are true. We're in the presence of a real genuine dragon slayer, men," Blackbeard boasted.

"That's right...I've slayed dragons and they smelled better than you and your crew," David retorted, making the pirate Captain chuckle.

"Fighting dragons is much different than fighting pirates. I've slayed many a royal with far more training and experience than you," Blackbeard warned.

"So you say...and I doubt they've had my training," David countered. Blackbeard smirked.

"First one to get me his head so I can present it to his Queen gets half our next haul of gold," he announced to his men. But David was ready, as the pirates attacked and he took them all on. With fluid skill and perfect technique, David did something that not many ever did and that was shock the infamous pirate, as none of his crew was left standing after a short bout against the newly minted King of Misthaven. He wore a deep frown at that and drew his own cutlass.

"I warned you...and I'll ask one more time. Tell me what Pan is up to and I'll forget that your crew attacked me. I am a father that just wants to protect his children from that demon," David stated.

"Not even I cross Pan, Your Majesty...and you'd do well not to cross him either, unless you'd like those children to be fatherless," Blackbeard warned.

"I'll take my chances," David snapped in return.

"You are as brave as the legends boast...but not even a dragon slayer quite possesses your level of skill. I'm curious as to who your instructor was," Blackbeard inquired curiously. David smirked.

"He doesn't take over the hill pirates on as students," the blonde quipped in return. Blackbeard's frown deepened into a snarl, as they engaged in an all out duel.

David maneuvered defensively and parried the pirate's blade, as he came at him with vicious strikes. As he predicted, Blackbeard had a very aggressive style that made his necessary defensive moves elaborate and thus tiring. He wasn't surprised that this was Blackbeard's style. His aggressive movements were tiring too, but he likely banked on tiring his opponent out before he himself exhausted. And David suspected that this strategy often worked. His name wasn't infamous for no reason, after all. However, David was no ordinary opponent. In one life, Anna had trained him and trained him well. His original skills were impressive enough as it was and he could match even the fiercest opponent. But in his other life, his training with Eli and Hades had only further enhanced and honed his skills. Even against such an aggressive style, David was able to maintain a complete defense without tiring too much. Hades had rigorously trained him for this type of fight as he himself had a rather aggressive style.

"You can't keep dodging me forever, boy...I'll have you shadowboxing soon," Blackbeard warned.

"You're probably right," David confirmed.

"Your pretty head will be a boast worthy prize though and I imagine your fair Queen will be quite inconsolable," he continued to boast.

"No...she'll be just fine, because I'll be going home to her like I always do and she'll be in my arms tonight, while your evening will be spent in your new home. Our dungeon," David countered. Blackbeard chuckled.

"You admitted yourself that this is not a pace you can continue," Blackbeard shot back.

"And you were right about that...which means it's time to go on the offensive," David retorted, as David's footing shifted and he came at the pirate with fell swoops and sharp angles. The pirate was forced to backpedal on his own ship and growled, as he tried to beat him back. But the smirk remained on David's face, as he matched the pirate blow for blow. Blackbeard yelled in frustration, as he brought his blade up, intending to beat his opponent down with the hilt if he had to, but his anger made him sloppy and David capitalized on the moment of error. He stopped Blackbeard's blade in a high arc and with a flick of his wrist, he split his defenses and sliced the pirate's hand. It was a minor wound, but enough to disarm him and David caught his cutlass before it could clatter to the deck. He held both weapons to the pirate's neck, forcing him to yield.

"I haven't enjoyed a dual that much in years," Hades said, as the pirate looked up to find the former God of the Underworld in the crow's nest. He jumped down easily and landed on his feet.

"Those were some nice moves. Who taught you those? Oh wait...it was me," Hades boasted, as he waved his hands and Blackbeard found himself in shackles.

"Eli deserves some credit too," David admonished.

"I suppose," the former God of the Underworld amitted, before turning his attention to the defeated pirate.

"Tell us what Pan is planning," Hades demanded to know.

"I thought you knew...he's after your brat," Blackbeard hissed, as he looked at David.

"But he wouldn't need to talk to you if he didn't need to make a deal of some sort. Tell me...or the ship burns," Hades warned, as a blue fireball appeared in his hand. Blackbeard was silent and the former God of the dead was true to his word, as he lit the mast ablaze.

"Damn you...all right! Stop! The bloody demon wanted me to create a problem big enough to distract you and your wife. He plans to take the two of you out so getting the child will be an easy play," Blackbeard confessed.

"He promised I could have its parents and ransom them to the highest bidder. He figures Frollo and Ravenna would fight over who gets their heads. Or perhaps Leopold will pay for your wife...and I think he wants more than her head," Blackbeard goaded, as he looked at David. The former Prince and now King angrily swept the pirate's legs out from under him. He hit the deck on his back and David poised his sword at his throat.

"Talk about her like that again...and we'll skip the dungeon," he warned.

"And the fates will not be kind in their judgement of you in the Underworld," Hades added.

"You have what you want...now leave me," Blackbeard hissed.

"Oh no, you're still going to a rat infested dungeon," Hades said, as he waved his hand and the pirates all disappeared.

"You were right...he's making his move today," David said worriedly.

"Don't worry...our plan is in place. This will work," Hades assured. David nodded, hoping he was right and followed his father-in-law back onto the dock. They headed for Storybrooke, where, if Hades was right, Pan was getting ready to make his move. The bait was set and the trap was ready to be sprung.

[rhysie-cakes314]

Day 25- Hell

Tony Stark had foiled Morgan le Fay for the last time. First it had been back with Merlin and Doctor Doom and the whole Excalibur nonsense (Iron Man: Doomquest, Iron Man: Legacy of Doom). The man wasn’t even a sorcerer for Gaea’s sake! How the hell he had escaped Mephisto from that Hell was beyond her entirely. Mephisto was nearly powerless within his own realm. Now he had been instrumental in disrupting her plans with Nightmare to take down Stephen Strange. (Chap. 22- Dreams) She was finished with this thorn in her side and would show no more mercy.

The Avengers were having an average breakfast when she appeared. Tony was staring ahead, not really awake, while he sipped his coffee, with Thor across from him. A woman with long dark hair and green eyes appeared silently behind the god, a faint purple aura around her. Clint noticed her first, but she only had eyes for Tony.

Clint clamoured out of his seat, aiming the nearest of Natasha’s guns at the intruder. “Who the fuck-”

“Silence,” the woman said with a small flick of her hand. Clint went flying through the air, crashing into a wall behind him and slumping to the floor, unconscious. Everyone was definitely aware of her presence now. The team had moved into wary battle stances, except for Thor and Tony. Thor was just in front of her, so he turned to eye her cautiously, but did not dare move. Tony was staring with wide-eyed recognition.

“Morgana!? What are you doing here?” he squeaked. She smiled at his obvious fear. With a single upward sweep of an arm, both her and Tony disappeared, leaving behind a stunned silence.

Natasha ran over to check on Clint. “He should be okay,” she said over her shoulder. “Small concussion for him.”

“Did Tony know that woman?” Steve asked. He glanced around the room. Phil wasn’t home, and Bruce was in his lab already. It was probably for the best, because Hulk would not help the already confusing situation.

“Odin’s beard,” Thor breathed, breaking his uncharacteristic silence. “That was Morgan le Fay.” He looked troubled, and deep in thought.

Natasha had walked back towards them, and pushed Steve back into a seat before the man passed out. He had locked his knees and was clearly a little in shock. That alone seemed to break Steve out of it, and his Captain demeanor took over. “Do you mean Morgana like from Arthurian legend?” she asked Thor.

Thor considered her. “Aye, if by Arthurian you mean to speak of Arthur Pendragon. His court and royal sorcerer Merlin are no fiction, though.”

“JARVIS, gather the others. Thor, update all of us on what you know of this Morgan and why Tony would know her.” Steve commanded.

With the others gathered around, and Clint now awake and nursing a headache, they waited for Thor. “I know little of what modern Midgard considers to be fact or fiction of King Arthur, but Asgard knew of him. He was one of the great Midgardian kings, and Merlin was the Sorcerer Supreme of his time. Morgan le Fay, back then known as Morgana, was a natural sorceress with raw power beyond her own control. It ate at her, and she sought help from darker forces to learn how to tame it. She became a major foe for the kingdom of Camelot, and nearly destroyed it with the help of Mephisto and an undead army, led by Victor von Doom. She was only defeated and weakened for a time due to Arthur’s knight and the mysterious aid of a man in magic red armor, who went by Iron Man.” Thor paused for the gasps he knew would come before continuing. He knew the day this secret was revealed would come, but had no idea when, nor how much it would sting to let his teammates know he had already known. He had sort of hoped Tony would tell first, though he suspected the man’s memories may have been wiped. “There was also a magical sword, Excalibur, that in more modern times resurfaced. Morgan helped Doom recreate it from a fragment, but Iron Man got the last piece, and the two needed it whole to defeat a giant inter-dimensional eyeball monster. So Iron Man agreed to let Doom stab him through the heart with the rest of Excalibur, and his death destroyed the monster. Then Merlin’s spirit brought Iron Man back, though I can only presume by the looks on your faces, without memory of the events. That or Anthony has been keeping a lot of secrets.”

Thor’s spiel was met with silence. Bruce’s shaking hand set down his tea, and the soft clink on the counter sounded far too loud. “Maybe I do need to see a doctor, because Thor is making no sense,” Clint broke the silence.

Steve was reeling. How many things had Tony kept from them? Had he been time travelling and fighting legends this whole time when no one was looking? Had this been before they all met and Tony never felt the need to say? Did Tony truly just not remember it? But he had clearly recognized the sorceress in their kitchen. “Maybe it was a different Iron Man. How would we know it was Tony?”

“Unless someone else had identical armor, it was Stark,” Thor responded confidently. “I was not on Midgard at the time, but I spent many hours watching the adventures of Camelot through Heimdall’s windows. I recognized it when we first met.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Steve snapped. How was the team supposed to operate of they were keeping things like this from each other?

“Steve, think of how the timeline could’ve been irreparably altered if he had told us. What if Tony hadn’t done it yet and the knowledge changed his reactions to everything?” Natasha reasoned before Thor had to. She understood Steve’s emotional response, but Thor’s decision had certainly been for the best.

Thor nodded sagely. “Aye, I was forbidden for that very reason. Time travel is tricky, and being around as long as I have means I often meet people I have already met or seen who don’t yet know me. It is a difficulty I have grown familiar with while living here.”

“Well that’s cryptic,” Phil replied drily.

“So what do we do?” Steve asked finally. He had no idea how to take on a sorceress this powerful. Strange and Thor had both recognized her voice back in the Nightmare Realm, and had been clearly unhappy about it. “Should I call Strange?”

“I think that may be helpful. Unfortunately,” Thor looked pained to say it, “I think my brother would be most suited for this, however.”

He was loathe to admit it, but Steve thought Thor was probably right. “You call Loki, see if he’ll help. For now, let’s try to leave Strange out of it, since he’s already so busy this time of year.”

…

All it took was a blink, and Tony’s kitchen was gone, replaced by the firescape of Mephisto’s Hell. “What do you want Morgana?” Tony spat angrily. “I have no business with you, I leave you alone, you leave me alone. That was our deal.” Tony hadn’t been back here since the last time when he had to fight off a demonic faux Howard in order to escape. Morgana had her own hideouts, he knew, so why were they here? He really did not have the tools or energy to deal with Mephisto himself, if he could even pray to lay a scratch on Morgana.

“Oh, I remember our deal, Stark. That was before you interfered in the Nightmare Realm last year.” Tony rolled his eyes, holding in the frustrated growl that tried to escape him. It’s not like he had known Morgana was part of that whole disaster until it was too late. “You broke the deal first, and I’m getting revenge.”

“I didn’t know you were working with Nightmare. All I knew was that Strange asked for our help, and I went. That should hardly count against me.”

Morgana waved a hand, and Tony was now being forced into an upright starfish position, each limb chained to some invisible force and being pulled taut. It was not a comfortable way to be held up against gravity, and his shoulders already ached. “I care not for your reasons. You’ve irritated me long enough, and Mephisto was willing to let me use his realm after you embarrassed him the last time.” She walked around him in a slow circle, examining her handiwork. “I figure I’ll just torture you for awhile, until I’m bored. Then he can keep you.”

“What do you gain from that?” Tony tried to keep his voice calm. Morgana enjoyed fear, especially from men. She was more likely to release him if he could appeal to logic. “All you’re doing is making enemies out of the Avengers.”

The slow grin was wicked, and Morgana’s eyes were already glowing purple with hungry power. “I’m okay with that.” Tony didn’t have the chance to prepare himself before all he heard were his own screams. The pain was everywhere, no apparent source or focal point because fucking magic. It felt like being burned alive, but with no end in sight or deadening of the nerves. Instead, Tony tried to writhe in agony, but that only pulled harshly at his joints. Through his now blurry vision, he could tell Morgana was laughing, but the sound was lost to him. She didn’t seem to have any motivation to let up and give him a breather, so Tony had to take the small gasps his body forced him to take when his lungs grew too thirsty. With the way the magic was consuming him, he had no control over his bodily mechanics anymore. A far away part of his mind wondered if he had pissed himself. This was truly hell.

…

“I think this is a bad idea,” Clint said, throwing another paper airplane at Loki’s head. Loki let it phase through him, not even sparing the archer a glance.

“You’ve made that very clear, Barton, now drop it.” Steve grit out. That got Clint to hesitate before throwing another. Steve hadn’t called him Barton in a long time. “So will you help us or not?”

“I have no ill will towards Morgan le Fay, but my brother dearest has made it difficult to refuse you,” Loki drawled. A brief look of disgust passed over his face before it returned to its usual smugness. Thor was standing behind him looking equally smug. Steve thought they looked more like brothers than enemies then, even if Loki had been adopted.

“I really don’t want to know,” Steve decided. “The point is, you’ll help. What do you need from us?”

Loki chuckled and Steve clenched his fists to keep from punching the cheeky bastard. “I need no help from you.”

“Well you’re certainly not going alone,” Phil inserted himself smoothly. “So at least let us in on your brilliant plan,” he said sarcastically.

Loki looked like he might argue, but Thor moved behind him, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. “Brother! Fine, you can accompany me. Morgana took him to Mephisto’s realm. If you want your Iron Man back alive, we will need Mephisto’s permission to take him. I cannot defeat that demon in his own realm.” The Asgardian looked like it physically pained him to admit there were people more powerful than him. Natasha thought it was funny, because he always seemed to conveniently forget that the Avengers had taken him down.

Steve huffed. “Well, lead the way, Loki. We’re kind of in a hurry.”

Loki smiled, amused. “Aye-aye, Captain.”

The portal Loki opened beneath them, with no warning, dropped them from above ground. The god of mischief looked very pleased with himself as everyone picked themselves off the ground, grumbling. “Never gets old,” he murmured, chuckling to himself. “Ow!” Thor punched Loki in the arm. “It was just a bit of fun!”

In front of them stood a being Steve could only assume was Mephisto. The man was crimson, and wore a cloak not dissimilar to Strange’s Cloak of Levitation. His boots were a slightly darker red than his own skin, along with pants that had some sort of long loin cloth attached to them. The pointed ears and deep widows peak reminded Clint of one of the elves from Lord of the Rings. “May I ask why you are trespassing in my home?” His arms were crossed.

Loki bowed, “Apologies. I have been asked by the Avengers here to retrieve a stolen teammate.” They all stared at Loki, shocked. They had never seen him sound so…  respectful.

Mephisto, in contrast, was looking at the god thoughtfully. “Stand, Asgardian.” Loki obliged, glancing around at the others before resting wary eyes back on their host. His obnoxiously entitled brother and their friends were an embarrassment to stand next to. “While I would love to help, Anthony Stark was rightfully mine before he was an Avenger. He left my realm without my leave. When Morgan le Fay offered to retrieve my property, I was pleased.”

Loki’s frown deepened. Steve looked like he was about to retort, but Loki caught him with a glare first, giving a subtle shake of his head. “Respectfully, that isn’t quite accurate.” Before the demon could interrupt, he continued quickly. “The deal you made with Victor von Doom was under false pretenses. He did not own Iron Man to be able to trade him for the sword. Anthony was tricked into your realm and betrayed.”

The silence was tense while they waited for the demon to consider Loki’s words. Bruce watched the interaction carefully, keeping the Hulk away for now. If Loki was being submissive, it meant he probably hadn’t been lying about how powerful this demon was here. A fight was not what they wanted, but he was growing more worried for Tony. And angry at his friend for never mentioning any of it.

A throne appeared beneath Mephisto as he sat, and he stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I see. And I should believe you because?”

“Ask Doom yourself.”

Mephisto smiled. “I can make a deal with you Avengers. I will fetch the man in question if when I ask Doom about this accusation, I am convinced of Loki Laufeyson’s version of events instead of Victor’s, then I will keep him instead. Iron Man’s fate will be in my hands. If I do not release him, however, there will be no fighting from you lot. How’s that sound?” He stood, hands on his hips.

Steve couldn’t see that he really had a choice here. He shared a look with the rest of the team, but was only met with regretful shrugs. “I guess we have a deal.” Mephisto grinned maliciously, shaking the Captain’s hand. He was going to get either Doom or Stark out of this, and best case scenario, he’d get Captain America too, for betraying an official deal. It was truly a win-win for him.

“Good, we have a deal. Now leave my home. You will have either have your teammate back or not in twenty four hours, there’s nothing you can do.” He snapped his fingers, and the team was back in the kitchen.

“Goddamnit!” The crash of the chair against the wall startled everyone. Steve stood over the pieces, his chest heaving. “How can I be so powerless?”

Natasha stepped towards him, a hand placed gently on his shoulder. “We’re out of our depth with demons.” She murmured. Behind her, Bruce was already sprinting for the stairs. It was pretty safe to assume he was headed to the ‘Hulk-proof’ training bunk Tony had designed.

“That you most certainly are,” Loki replied snidely. She shot him a scathing look, but softened her expression when she saw his own. He actually looked vaguely apologetic. “I am too.” He spoke quieter this time. “I can try and create a viewing window for now, so you can at least see Stark.” Steve turned, looking hopeful.

“I don’t know if that’s actually a good idea,” Clint tried, slumping into the kitchen chair in front of him. “Is it going to help any of us to helplessly watch whatever the bitch is doing to him?” It sounded more tired than harsh.

Steve pushed off the wall, heading towards his room. “I don’t know Clint, but I need to do something.” His voice broke. Standing in the entryway but not turning back, he spoke quietly, “If you could, Loki, I’d be grateful.” Then he was gone.

“This has been a strange experience for me,” Loki said. No one responded, and he knew when he was even less welcome than usual. “Brother, let us speak with Heimdall.”

…

The only respite was when Morgana would get bored of one spell and move onto another. At some point burning turned into crushing pain, which would eventually morph into the stabbing pain of invisible knives through him in all directions. Tony had no idea the woman hated him so much. Or perhaps she just needed someone to torture, and he was a convenient pastime for her. It was weird to think about how this much pain could come out of just one angry enemy, one bored sorceress looking for an outlet. “Please,” he breathed.

That only seemed to encourage her, and suddenly everything grew worse. Tony screamed, or tried to, but his voice was barely there anymore. “I must admit, I’m curious to see how long your body can put up with this level of stress. Magical torture is so understudied.” She spoke conversationally, as though they were friends. Tony watched her with wide eyes, gasping when he could. He had stopped being able to produce tears a while ago. How long he had been here was impossible to determine, because for him it felt like a week. “Did you know I used to abhor the very idea of harming someone?” She laughed ruefully. “I tried to be good, but when so many tell you you’re evil for so long, it sinks in. Eventually I thought, why not embrace it? It is easier.”

“Oh my god,” Steve whispered, watching the enchanted mirror Loki had given him. It felt unreal, watching Tony suffer like that for no reason at all. It was impossible to even tell what she was doing to the man, only that he was in agony. There were five hours left of the 24 hours Mephisto had given himself. That meant Tony had only been in Hell for a little over 20 hours, but he looked like he had been there for a week. Loki hadn’t been able to explain how the magic or Hell itself would affect Tony, so they could only pray there was no permanent damage.

“Oh, look at that!”  Morgana breathed excitedly. Tony obviously couldn’t see what excited the madwoman, but the sudden pins and needles in his chest and the increasing difficulty in breathing gave him a pretty good clue. “The light in your chest flickers ominously, Iron Man. Perhaps your precious technology doesn’t like this.”

Tony let his head fall, resting his chin on his chest. It probably made breathing even harder, but he didn’t have the energy anymore to keep his head upright. At this angle, he could see the arc reactor flickering. It was not a comforting sight. With great effort, he leaned his head back so at least he wouldn’t have to watch himself die.

“Enough,” a male voice shouted, and suddenly Tony was crumpled on the ground, coughing and sore. The magic was no longer extending his pain though. Tony rolled around, to see the newcomer, and recognized Mephisto immediately. Next to him was a very unhappy looking Victor von Doom.

Morgan whirled around in surprise. “What is this? We had a deal.”

“Sorry Morgan, but Anthony wasn’t mine to offer, apparently. I actually own Doom if you’d like him.” The demon pushed Doom forward where he stumbled, but caught himself before falling.

She scoffed. “I have no interest in him. Keep him for yourself.” Without any further conversation, she disappeared in a swirl of purple and black .

Mephisto turned to look at Tony on the ground. He shrugged with a very not apologetic at all expression. “Misunderstanding, sorry.” Tony glared at him, but he still felt too out of breath to say anything. “Until next time,” he sing-songed.   

Tony felt no change, but was slowly aware that he was back home. He groaned, looking down at the reactor. It was no longer flickering, and he was slowly catching his breath. “Tony! Oh thank god,” Steve ran full tilt into the kitchen, sliding slightly on his knees as he dropped to the ground to grasp Tony.

“Hey Steve,” he rasped, looking up at the worried blond. “Long time no see.” Tony promptly threw up onto the ground beside him. “I don’t feel great.”

“Tony, babe, let me help you up. We can go to medical,” Steve started, but Tony shook his head.

“Noooo, just take me to bed,” he whined.

“Tony,” Steve replied worriedly, already scooping the man off the vomit covered floor and into his lap.

“If I may, Captain, his reactor is fully functional and he shows no signs of damage that a hospital is needed for,” JARVIS interjected.

Steve ran a hand through Tony’s sweat soaked locks. “I watched you, but I couldn’t do anything,” he said softly.

Tony leaned into the touch. Every muscle in his body ached, and he was starving and exhausted. “Bed,” he moaned. He knew Steve needed to talk and the others would want to see him. Plus, Tony wanted to know how Steve had apparently watched him in hell and knew he was going to have some explaining to do about Morgana, but he couldn’t do any of that right now. “Please.”

The room felt like it was spinning as Steve stood up with him. “Right, sorry,” Steve said quickly. Tony squeezed his eyes shut against the dizziness and wave of nausea. He focused solely on his breathing until it passed. The coolness of the sheets felt amazing. Steve started to tuck him under the blanket, but Tony kicked it all off. “Okay, no blankets. Just sleep Tony.” He didn’t need to be told twice. Not that he could stay awake if he tried.

Tony slept through a whole day. He didn’t even flinch when they inserted the IV to rehydrate him, and Steve gave him a simple wash with a cool washcloth. He desperately needed to eat, too, but they decided to let him sleep the initial soreness off. Literally going through Hell, Tony had still been through worse than this. Sleep was the best thing for him now, even if it was killing the team not to be able to talk to him. They could wait.  

[ktrsvo]

an eon for a dream

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12170343

summary:

Without another word, the god of summer drifts off, a vision in colour. Even his dream is lovely, a picture of pastels and a crown of sun-shards. Then the scene shifts, and now someone's there, too: a boy all in black, eyes woodland dark, hair an ebony-green shade. He sits beneath a moon, mouth curled in a grin, the heavens winking at his shoulders.

Izuku holds the dream close to his sternum, enchanted.

He meets a god with eyes like a winter storm, and it’s all too easy to fall.

i. aphelion

It's mostly colourless, the realm of dreams. A land of cloud, starlight, wishes, and nightmares, drenched in everlasting night. The beginning of all things, the separation between life and darkness. Beyond the boundary, the solar realm thrives, ever-changing and dynamic, dawn to dusk, summer to winter, spring to fall. Peace to war, then back again.

Dust, rust, and stardust—that's how this world began, a god's wish brought to life, red underneath it all; the earth was hewn from a need of stability, a fear of oblivion. A god's creation is never perfect, it seems, naturally predisposed to chaos and war. Occasionally the earth will run with rivers of crimson, the handiwork of men, born from a desire to rule, to conquer. The ultimate ode to a god's favour.

Izuku very rarely crosses the boundary, but he knows enough—dreams and nightmares, they come to him all the time. What goes on in the land beyond, it's a latticework of tension and intrigue. Here, no such conflicts exist. Night reigns supreme, the thing all mortals fear yet it is the first thing they see in slumber and death.

No, that is exactly why, Izuku thinks dryly as he watches the Sea of Nightmares roil.

 The boundary is mostly stagnant, but sometimes a disturbance will come along that's great enough to disrupt it.

"A great war will come soon," Toshinori reports to him on the day of the winter solstice, light flakes of snow falling from the Sky of Dreams. "There is strife among the courts on who will rule the solar realm. The Mother has abdicated, and already the gods are fighting for the throne. If the situation does not change, the mortals will be dealt a devastating blow."

A fractal of ice lands on Izuku's palm, its facets boasting spiderweb-intricate cracks. "A tempest," he corrects, watching the ice mist into light in his hold—blue, bright. "A tempest will come; the deities, especially those of summer and autumn, will fight tooth-and-nail for the prize."

Toshinori's gaunt features grow dim. He is a nomad of night, well-acquainted with the other realms. A friend, an advisor of sorts, a companion at times. Night's realm has very few denizens; it's too much of a vast, desolate place. "This is not a matter to take lightly," he warns. "An era of madness will descend upon us all again. And you—" a rumble of thunder interrupts him.

"What of me?" Izuku turns towards the Sea of Nightmares, the movement idle, languorous. "It is the same every year, decade, or century."

Toshinori shakes his head. "You are missing the point," he says. "Do try to understand."

Around them the snow falls in a deluge, a blizzard in development. "It is not me you have to worry about."

"My boy, is the weight on your shoulders not heavy enough? This has gone on for far too long." Pleading, sorrowful.

"It is not all bad sometimes. Look." Izuku cups his palms. A star falls from the sky, a dream of tranquility in neverending war, lovely, serene. Rippling fields, corn-yellow stalks bending in a breeze, jugs of nectar and honey, the colours faded soft throughout.

"You will still bear the brunt of what's to come," Toshinori argues.

"The burden has always been mine to carry and mine alone." The dream creases, ripping, unearthing the rot festering in its recesses. A thing drained bloodless by fear. Here, no crimson rivers run, just miles upon miles of ash-grey snow. "Duty is everything, is it not?" Izuku's mouth twists. "This realm has been my domain long enough. I have collected far too many nightmares that the burden almost weighs nothing now."

"Almost," Toshinori echoes.                                                                    

Izuku's fists close. Unclench. The dream-turned-nightmare eddies away.

 The world is beautiful today, the skies a light grey, dreams ripe for the picking, the Sea only lightly frothing. It hasn't been this idle for an age, and Izuku will savour every moment of it. Perhaps the summer realm is responsible for this shift; the scale is tipping towards its favour, it seems.

The cloud beneath him glides gently above the waters. Izuku reclines on it, one hand tucked beneath his head, the other spinning stars, the loveliest dreams of the day. The most colourful sights his domain has to offer, besides glimpses of the solar realm. From here, they're mostly obscured by mist, pearl-white and thick.

On rare occasions he'll see fields of green, maybe a kingdom or two, perhaps even a god's court, but it's all clouded up right now. Pity; he had hoped for a sight of the nymph gardens, one of Toshinori's favourite places.

A sigh. Izuku's eyes flutter shut. Just for once, he thinks absently.

Then, a disturbance: ripples shudder through the Sea. The cloud bucks with the impact. Izuku cracks an eye open, annoyed. A figure emerges from the mist, the air around them bright, leaving colour in their wake. Izuku tilts his head, eyebrows raised, curious.

A boy with hair the colour of both flame and snow stares back at him.

The stars halt their rotation, streaking away in a trail of sparks.

"Hello," Izuku greets, raising a hand in greeting.

The boy's eyes narrow. His gaze, it's like a winter storm—glacial, imperious. "Who are you?" Even his voice can freeze a desert.

"I could say the same thing about you," Izuku drawls, offering a grin.

The cloud banks into the shore. The boy takes a step backward, his ivory cloak billowing behind him. Over his heart a beveled insignia rests, the sides gilded. It displays a sun, several rays jutting from the centre, each ray ending with one of the solar realm's courts' marks. A candidate, then.

The boy shifts. "I—" he breaks off abruptly. "Just—never mind." Weary, dull. He cranes his neck, scowl replaced by pensiveness. "This is the boundary," he murmurs, voice tinged with disbelief. "I never thought I would actually find it."

"How did you find it, if I may ask?" Very few gods dare venture into this territory. Although the realm of dreams had once been a no-man's-land, it was the closest to night, which most gods feared—still fear. A claim had had to be made for order's sake.

"I wandered around in search of something. I can't really remember ..." The boy sways, expression going vacant. He shakes his head. "No, I needed to see the night realm for myself. Not many gods can claim to have gone here."

"Why the curiosity, though?" Izuku sits up, legs dangling off the cloud.

"Night is powerful, unconquerable. The gods and songs of old speak of the realm in fearful tongues. Its king rules over the vastest lands, lands unfathomable to most, lands that surround the solar realm. He maintains equilibrium, vanquishing the sun day by day." A fevered, exhausted pitch. "I have heard many tales, but, this, I did not quite expect."

"You came at a good time." Indeed he did; all is calm here, clear, grey. "Send summer my regards."

"I am summer," the boy says, the air around him stirring. "It runs in my veins, strong and true. The earth has smiled upon my court, and therefore I have to pay my dues." His form tilts again. Izuku's fingers twitch. A puffy cloud catches his fall.

"Rest," Izuku says. "It does your realm no good if you've no strength, and a leader must always be ready."

"I can't rest," the boy snaps, but already he's sinking into the cloud. "My father, he will be displeased with my indolence. I can't ... I must not—"

"Forget your troubles for a moment and sleep," Izuku insists softly.

Without another word, the god of summer drifts off, a vision in colour. Even his dream is lovely, a picture of pastels and a crown of sun-shards. Then the scene shifts, and now someone's there, too, a boy all in black, eyes woodland dark, hair an ebony-green shade. He sits beneath a moon, mouth curled in a grin, the heavens winking at his shoulders.

Izuku holds the dream close to his sternum, enchanted.

 ii. eclipse

"Someone visited," Izuku says tells Toshinori, cradling the dream in his hands.

"Strange." Toshinori frowns thoughtfully. The realm, after all, was not meant to be simply found. "What were they doing?"

"It was an informal meeting, cordial on all counts." A comet rips through the sky, a burst of white. "The god of summer wished to see the night realm."

A blink. "You mean the ruler's son?" Toshinori strokes his chin. "That boy is favoured to preside over the solar realm; his power is great enough, though he still has much to learn, much like someone I'm very familiar with."

Izuku shoots him a dry smile.

"Does he know?" Toshinori watches the comet extinguish into streaks of light.

"No." Not yet.

 The god of summer returns on a calm night, figure lissome, blazing golden in the dark. His tread is sinuous, airy, a sylph's step, but also swift, precise, and carefully calibrated. War is inscribed along his every movement, the set of his jaw, the sharpness of his glare, the lift of his shoulders. A warrior through and through, born and bred from blood.

It's a captivating sight.

"You look better," Izuku says, stepping away from the shoreline.

"I suppose you could say that." The god shrugs. Turns his head around. "The boundary looks different. Dark."

"Like it has always been." The calm, however, is unusual. "What brings you back?"

The god shifts. "I had .... a peaceful time here," he says in a measured tone. "It was a lull in a storm."

"So you came all the way to thank me? I'm flattered."

The god's eyes snap towards him. "Hardly," he says, but there's no bite to his words. "Surely you know why: I seek an audience with the king of night. A brazen request, I'm aware, but as a future ruler taking initiative is imperative."

Izuku clicks his tongue. "Future ruler? How assuming."

"It is not assuming when you know it to be true." A hint of irritation. "My role was decided from the day of my conception. The solar realm will fall under my reign, mark my words." If Izuku is not mistaken, there's an almost sour note hidden in his words.

Izuku slips his hands into his pockets, holding the god's piercing stare. "What if the king does not wish to meet you? What if he has no interest in making your acquaintance?"

"He must, if an alliance is to be had. If not, well, it's not the worst-case scenario—"

"Which is?"

The god sends him a withering look that Izuku returns with an idle grin. "So he doesn't deign to see me? I know a dismissal when I see one."

"Clearly you have not seen enough, because he has yet to express an opinion on the matter."

"An agreement is what I require, not a sentiment."

"Which you will have in due time."

The god huffs. "Are you always this irksome?"

"Only when it comes to you." Izuku's grin widens, luminous.

Anger—ruby red—stains the god's cheeks. "Another time, then." He spins around, sparks trailing at his heels.

Before the god disappears out of sight, Izuku calls out, "Will you at least tell me your name before you go?"

The god pauses. Looks over his shoulder, eyes flashing silver and blue. "An answer for an answer, which you have not delivered."

"The king will grace you with his presence upon your next arrival," Izuku promises. "I swear it upon my court."

The god of summer breaks off eye contact. There's a moment of silence, and then he says, "It's Shouto." His name lingers in the air long after he leaves.

The Sky of Dreams glows brighter.

 Izuku's throne, a cold, ethereal thing made of moon-shards and starlight, rests on a mountain overlooking the earth, the onyx sky fading to indigo at the boundary, transitioning into full colour beyond—the view both panoptic and opaque. Seeing all yet nothing at the same time. Enough to get by, at least.

Izuku rests his chin on a palm, his other arm draped over the armrest. He raises his gaze skywards, towards the crescent moons atop the pillars surrounding his throne. One for each realm. The nightmares, they've started to stir—vicious, heavy, red. Exhausting, worst of all.

"Are you expecting someone, my king?" a wind spirit asks, kneeling before him.

"A soon-to-be-ruler," Izuku confirms, crossing his legs. "Have you seen anyone of that sort make an appearance?"

"The summer god is here. Shall I send him in?"

"Please do." The spirit rises. Izuku's fingers tap against his throne, once, twice, thrice.

"So you were the king all this time." A blaze of fire and ice. The wind spirit scuttles away. Shouto storms towards the throne, eyes irate, bright. "I don't appreciate being played for a fool."

"That's much too harsh a term," Izuku says smoothly. "My apologies for the confusion you must've experienced. A bad move on my part and for that I take full responsibility."

"You—you're making light of the situation again."

"A necessary evil, I'm afraid; it's been awfully boring these past few seasons."

"When I become king, I will not tolerate such mistreatment. You may rule the greatest realm, but I will have the solar courts at my disposal. There, a matter not to be laughed at."

"Oh? Is that a threat?" Izuku stands. Slips his hands into his pockets.

"A warning, more like."

The marble clacks under Izuku's steady tread, stars issuing from his step. The stars weave into his cape, a ripple of gossamer, diaphanous, light. On his head a constellation sits—a jagged crown, all sharp valleys and crests, each star connected by a web of glasslike threads.

Fitting for a king of the most powerful realm.

"Well, I'm sorry. Truly I am." Izuku inclines his head.

"Say I came with the might of the courts. Conquered your realm and took your throne for myself. Will you be sorry, then?"

"You wouldn't."

"What if I did?" A challenge.

"The loss will be felt deeply, that I cannot deny. But ..." Izuku shrugs. "Take it, then. It will be yours, all of it: my crown, the Sky, the Sea, and the darkness."

Surprise is stamped across Shouto's face. He flinches sharply, whirling around.

"If that is what you wish, so be it," Izuku continues, every step taking him closer to the summer god. "I will not retaliate. Now, you have no obstructions. My domain is yours to seize. An easy victory; you have nothing to lose but all to gain." Izuku halts. Brings up his lips to the summer god's ear. "Shall I bend the knee right here and now?"

Shouto freezes, fists clenched at his sides. The silence that follows is long and agonizing. Then: "It is not so much a victory as it is theft. Honour does not exist without sacrifice." Weary, hollow.

Izuku's mouth curves.

"I have to go." Shouto makes a move for the exit, all traces of anger gone. He spares a single glance at Izuku, and it's a curious look, soft at the edges, a little mysterious.

It's absolutely disarming.                                                        

 "Have you come to conquer me after all?" Bubbles drift lazily around Izuku's fingers, courtesy of Toshinori's visit to the siren kingdom. "Now would be a good time; I cannot be bothered to get up."

"No," Shouto murmurs, crouching down on the shoreline. "I've come without any ill intentions, believe it or not." He regards Izuku with raised eyebrows. "For a being of your position, you seem to be at leisure all the time."

"I assure you that it isn't the case. It's just that my responsibilities are not for public consumption." Izuku props himself up on an elbow. "So you're back. It seems that our dispute wasn't sufficient enough to keep you away."

"Do you want me to leave?"

"Not at all." Izuku flicks a hand. A flurry of stars swirl around Shouto. "Starlight looks good on you. Brings out the colours of your hair."

"I appreciate the flattery," he says flatly, lowering his gaze.

"Oh, but I do mean it." Izuku grins sweetly. Shouto scowls, blushing sunset-pink. "Tell me, is there a real reason you're here? Surely there are far more interesting distractions in your realm."

"Not particularly." The bubbles drift to join the stars, opalescent in the light. Shouto absently pokes one. "I wanted to get away from it all. My father, my court, everything. The other gods grow more restless by the day, and—it's all just madness. My reserves of diplomacy are running in short supply." His next sentence is uttered so softly that Izuku almost misses it: "Plus, I could not stay away."

Izuku's cheeks heat up. The Sky of Dreams twinkles knowingly. Warm—Izuku is warm all over in the way his realm can never be. "Let me show you something for your troubles," he says, summoning a star.

Shouto watches, transfixed. The star unfolds.

"A dream, one of my favourite ones. How I yearn for a land I have never been to." A lullaby, tinkling, effervescent, fills the air. Vibrant bowers, sleepy hollows, glistening caverns, lush dells.

Izuku glides towards Shouto. Transfers the dream into his hand.

Eyes wide, Shouto murmurs, "It is beautiful."

"It is," Izuku hums.

 A flower—a single rose—is tucked between Shouto's fingers, the petals deep red and moon-bright. Out of place in a world of black and grey.

"A gift," Shouto says. "For the dream you shared with me."

Flowers do not bloom in the night realm; the barren grounds ensure that little to no life exists here. Izuku accepts, hesitant.

"It will not die," Shouto assures. "I made sure of it."

Izuku holds the flower to his nose. Inhales. It's sweeter than any song he's tasted.

"Thank you," Izuku whispers.

For the first time ever, Shouto smiles at him, and it's enchanting.

Captivating.

Disarming.

Even when the smile fades into a look of hesitation.

 The war Toshinori mentioned has come at long last. The Sea churns with screams and dirges, spitting them out raw and guttural. In the years to come, the soil beyond the boundary will grow gravid with corpse and gore. Many stars have reached their last exhale, the Sky rife with hisses of gas.

As the Sky dims with loss, the Sea turns frothing, a graveyard of dreams.

Longer nights and shorter days, a tragedy many fear. It has become all too easy to swallow the sun, and dimly Izuku wonders what the summer god's smile would transform into if he plunged the world in eternal night. Conquered day.

(A calamity, possibly).

 An elixir of something silvery bubbles in Toshinori's hand. "You are too tired, my boy," he says, worried, holding the goblet to Izuku's lips. "Why must you take it on alone?"

The liquid is honey-sweet on his tongue, acrid in his stomach. "Heavy lies the crown," is the eternal answer.

Toshinori sighs.

 "I realize that I still do not know your name."

"Have this dance with me and I'll tell you."

A pause. Shouto considers Izuku's hand. "Must we really?" he says, cheeks pink, eyebrows raised.

Star-bright eyes twinkle. "That decision is yours to make."

Shouto's palm slips into his own, golden against moon-pale. His expression is vacant and, somehow, a little lost. The two of them sway gently in the blue moonlight, Shouto's gaze suddenly appraising.

"You stare at me like you're sizing up a formidable foe. Do I intimidate you that much?" Izuku's tone is light and casual.

Instead of retorting, Shouto asks, "Why is the boundary under your domain?"

Izuku shrugs. "It's a responsibility that can't afford to fall into the wrong hands. The consequences would be disastrous."

"It's true, then, all the tales of your power?"

Izuku breaks away from their dance. Looks up at the inky darkness. "It's Izuku, by the way," he says, evasive.

 The violence continues, untameable.

The moon god stands in the midst of a storm, the world a dark crimson. The creatures sprout army by army, each a harrowing pastiche of skeleton, flesh gone sour, and other broken things. A sweep of an arm, and they rear back, jaws snapping at his heels, mutinous.

The summer god watches, expression carefully blank.

"Are you scared?" the moon god asks.

"No." An honest answer.

"Maybe you should be."

The summer god does not blink.

 A circlet sears Shouto's brow, its apex bearing a miniature sun.

Izuku bows at the waist, arm sweeping in a grand arc. "Congratulations," he offers with a smile.

"It was only a matter of time." Shouto's mismatched eyes bore into him, something soft and shy flickering in their depths.

Izuku blinks, breath catching a little in his throat.

"The coronation will take place soon." His gaze continues to linger on Izuku's face, and suddenly the hall does not feel nearly as cold anymore, a pleasant burn kindling beneath his skin.

"And?" Izuku finds himself drifting closer, closer, closer.

"What?" Shouto's face starts to burn as well.

The realization hits him with the force of a meteor shower. Oh, Izuku thinks, dazed. Shouto must've sensed it, too, because his expression turns closed-off and mildly confused.

Izuku halts.

 "Duty is everything. I cannot afford distractions," Shouto murmurs.

The words dredge up a dim echo in the hollows of memory. Hadn't Izuku said the same thing once? Although Shouto's talking about something else, Izuku can't help but feel he's addressing a certain issue.

"Indeed," Izuku hums emptily.

 Soon enough it dawns on Shouto, and the confrontation is less than pretty.

"I think we should stop," he whispers, torn. "We have to stop meeting like this."

Izuku swallows. "Why?" comes out, even if he already knows the answer.

Silence stretches out between them. It shouldn't hurt this much.

"I will be the ruler of the solar realm, of Day. That much is clear." Shouto runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. "We aren't meant to be this way. We just aren't. What would—what would my court say, what would my father do, it's—"

Izuku reaches out for him. Shouto flinches away, eyes hardening into chips of ice. That glacial, warrior's mask slips over his features. "Don't," he says coldly. "We were never supposed to grow this close. I wasn't supposed to feel the way I do. This wasn't supposed to happen."

"But it did," Izuku says quietly.

"It was a mistake." Shouto shakes his head, clenching his jaw. "We can't do this."

Izuku stares, cold all over.

Shouto's next words are a sword to the gut. "I can't love you. And this ends now." There's remorse in his tone, but it isn't evident by the way he leaves without so much as a backward glance.

Still Izuku waits, and waits, and waits.

 The circlet has turned into a crown of sun-shards, each point representing each of the solar realm's court. The summer god no longer but the sovereign of day, blindingly bright.

They meet under an eclipse before several faceless courts and hushed voices. This one time where the boundary has lifted, two realms blurring into one.

"Day." The moon god tilts his head.

The sun god wavers. "Night," he acknowledges stiffly.

The smile Night sends Day is sad.

 They meet once more before the end of a millennia, a wide, wide rift between them.

"Shouto," Izuku calls out.

Faraway, distant, Shouto does not respond. Does not even look back.

 The war reaches a long-awaited end, dispersing in hope and unity.

"There, the troubles are over," Izuku says, the boat beneath them rocking gently.

Toshinori purses his lips. "Not all of them."

Silence.

"You're lonely."

The sails overhead flap sharply."I have you."

"It is not the same, and we both know it."

Izuku looks away.

 A year passes. Izuku sends a dream.

Ten. Northern lights.

A hundred. A galaxy.

A thousand. He stops.

 iii. perihelion

The sun god's gift remains dewdrop fresh—lovely, red, alive. Izuku twirls the stem. Watches the petals dance.

"Perhaps you were right," he says to it.

The waves stop lapping against the hull, like they're holding in a breath. Toshinori steers the vessel uneasily. "Will you ever let it go?"

The petals are a silky kiss against his fingers. "Should I?" One hand dangles the flower over the bow, the boat listing to port.

The Sea yawns, eager. "It is not for me to decide."

Izuku shuts his eyes, resting an arm over his forehead. "One day," he murmurs, pressing the rose to his heart instead. For now, he tells himself, as the thorns dig into his skin.

 Soon enough a petal falls from the rose, crumbling at his feet. Using the remains, Izuku fashions a falling star, wispy, lonely. He sends it at what would be dusk in the solar realm, before he trades the sun for the moon. A parting gift.

Pathetic. Izuku sighs, tired.

 The boundary is the most beautiful it's ever been: a dark blue evening. Izuku stands, gazing at the rose in his hand.

It is time, he thinks, heart numb.

One petal falls, then, two, four, stardust at his feet.

Izuku stares. What was left of the petals scatters. Done—it is done. Izuku feels drained and hollow inside. Then, he catches movement in the corner of his eye: a single rose petal.

It refuses to die, even in his hold.

Izuku's gaze snaps skywards. The world is lightening, indigo fading to grey. The petal sears his skin as his eyes widen, a sharp gasp hitching in his throat. After all this time—

Why?

A pair of footsteps, light and airy, sound from behind.

Why now? His nails dig in sharp enough to draw out blood.

"Don't," a voice pleads, hoarse, broken.                                

A new rose blooms—red, alive—in Izuku's hand.

"I'm sorry for what I did."

A chin rests on his shoulder, arms wrapping around his waist.

"I didn't—I didn't mean what I said."

The moon and sun cannot coexist, a natural law. The boundary ensures the separation of the two entities. One realm is cold, colourless, unlovely, the other bright, vibrant, beautiful. They're opposites, the moon and the sun god, two spheres not meant to overlap.

"What I feel for you, I was wrong to dismiss it."

This is all wrong.

"Please allow me to give you this."

An arc of colours bleeds into the Sky—there's yellow, red, blue, and everything in between. The clarity is crisp, unmistakeably genuine. Izuku freezes, breathing harshly. He breaks free from the embrace, fists clenched at his sides.

"You," he whispers, rounding onto Shouto. "Why?"

The sun god takes a step forward, face tired but lovely—unbearably so. "You have sent me much over the years," he says breathlessly, voice ragged. "All of them beautiful things, the dreams especially. I was frustrated and too ashamed to respond. For a time I thought that it was never meant to be, that what I had done was for our best interests; we are both of two realms that have been kept separate since time immemorial. I was told to stay away from you."

The ground beneath Izuku tilts, unsteady.

"Night is to be feared, challenged, and threatened, my father always said. A figure of malice and wrath. His words were poison, and I foolishly allowed them to interfere with my reasoning. He always said I was born for the crown, and therefore bound to its duties." Shouto's palms reach up to cup Izuku's cheeks. "I can see where I went wrong, and for that I am sorry. You are more than I deserve, nothing like what they rumour about in hushed tones, and that comet that you sent—" A crack snags at his words.

"It made me realize exactly what I had lost." Shouto pauses, eyes brimming with remorse. "You, Izuku. You." The words twist a knife in his heart.

"This isn't ... I did not expect ... I was—I was about to give up on you," Izuku says harshly, something wet trailing down his face. "Shouto, what are you saying?"

"I've loved you for a thousand years, and have never, ever stopped. I know that I am in no position to ask this of you, but ..." Shouto leans in, brushing the tears from his face. "Don't. Please. Don't."

The Sky bears down on them, stars wavering. Shouto's touch burns against his skin. Heart heavy, Izuku can hardly move or say anything. "The colours," Izuku breathes, lightheaded. "How?"

"You've held the weight of the boundary alone for far too long. Now, it doesn't belong entirely to you anymore. Half of your burden is mine to carry, and I will not let you take it back." His thumb caresses his jaw. "The beauty of my realm is here to stay. But if you no longer wish to see me, you need only say the word."

Izuku's eyes widen as he takes in the eclipse that has replaced the moon. "It is not easy, this duty," Izuku murmurs, pale.

"It does not matter."

"You won't—you won't regret it?"

Their foreheads touch. "Never," Shouto says with conviction.

The ground rights itself. The rose in Izuku's hand blooms. He draws away, lifts the flower to the eclipse. The petals unfurl, deep scarlet against lavender.

"Will you still have me?" Shouto asks softly.

The rose disintegrates into light in Izuku's clasp. The newly formed star winks at him. "A dream," Izuku says. "My new favourite one." He meets Shouto's eyes. Lifts a starlight-dusted palm to his cheek. Smiles. "I am yours and you are mine."

The smile that Shouto gives him return is achingly lovely—lovelier than any of the dreams Izuku has in his possession. He presses a kiss to Izuku's knuckles. "You are beautiful," he says, cheeks sunrise red as he bridges the gap between their lips, the kiss sweeter than honey and hotter than flame.

The warmth that fills Izuku, head-to-toe, is unmistakeably love.

 The boundary has fallen under the night and the solar realm's rule, shining with a muted sort of brilliance. All around fields of flowers stretch towards the horizon, stalks fluttering and bending, dreams bobbing up and down like fireflies.

"My king," Izuku says, fiddling with the crown at Shouto's head. At the tip of it rests a lone crescent, cradling a sun.

Shouto catches his hand and interlaces their fingers together, amused.

"Will you ever tire of eons of this dalliance?" Izuku jests, resting his head on Shouto's shoulder.

"What we have is not a fleeting affair but the kind that is immortalized in song and poem, the kind that mortals envy, the kind that they can only hope to dream of. It is forever, if only you will have me for that long."

Their hands untangle. Izuku brushes a hand over his cheek. "Surely you have not forgotten my response."

"It seems that I am in need of a reminder." The throne beneath them shifts as Shouto rolls over to hover above Izuku, the eclipse resting at his shoulder.

Izuku reaches up to adjust the crown atop Shouto's head, sun-bright against the dim twilight. "Do you really?" he murmurs, grinning slyly.

Shouto's eyes, they're limpid, bottomless pools darkening over with fire. "Indulge me," he rasps, hands sleepwalking down.

A sharp intake of breath. "My, my, how improper. Where are your manners?"

"Stop tormenting me."

"Only if you say please."

Shouto's mouth descends to his collarbone. "Please," he murmurs against his skin, full of want.

Laughter slips past Izuku's lips. Shouto lifts his head. Fire—Izuku is burning with fire. "It would be better to show you," Izuku says, closing the gap between them. Shouto eagerly deepens the kiss.

Izuku pulls away for a moment, flushed, remembering something. "Don't we have two realms to run, my king?" he breathes.

"That can wait," Shouto says, gaze heavy-lidded. "We have forever after all." His face grows closer, closer, closer. "I have something to show you."

Their lips reconnect, and here, under Shouto's touch, energy thrums, lightning red and alive—and this something becomes a thousand colours bleeding into a single burst of ecstasy that leaves him weightless and exhilarated, summer-warm and golden.

 A sunburst gleams at the peak of Izuku's crown, framed by three stars. No longer does he have to maintain the balance of the world alone.

"Finally," Toshinori says, eyes glimmering with softness.

"I suppose it was time," Izuku agrees, cradling Shouto's rose against his heart.

The Sea of Nightmares remains quiet for a very long time after that.

[stephenjaymorrisblog]

Wednesday, April 26, 2017

America is Only Human

By Stephen Jay Morris

©Scientific Morality

           It’s vocabulary time.  You are going to learn about a word, which is a noun: Anthropomorphism.  What does that mean?  Essentially, it means assigning human traits to inanimate objects—like a talking tree or a laughing house.  Creative artists use this medium for compelling fiction.  It’s routinely used in children’s books.  If I were to give it a value judgment, I would say, “Cool, kids need imagination!”  Well, how about for adults?  Ah…let me think about it…What was the Supreme Court’s 2010 ruling in the case of “Citizens United v FEC”?  Oh, yeah (stated succinctly):  “Corporations are people.”

           I don’t think Anthropomorphism is very healthy for adults.  The righteous Right is very big on this and so are Conservatives.  They don’t believe in “one nation under God,” they believe “America is God,” and it’s a very jealous God indeed.  The Conservative brand of jingoism is very metaphysical.  Maybe they never got over the childhood fairytales their parents told them.

           I’m going to explain Right wing patriotism to you.   At this point, a lot of critics would say, “You’re not a conservative!  How can you explain something in which you do not believe?”

           I would answer the question like this:  I utilize what’s known as “Empirical observation.”  I clearly hear everything they state and accept it, solely, by way of literal perception.  This is not the same as “face value.”  I am simply repeating that which I have heard after all of these decades.  So, read on:

           Conservative American patriotism is based on guilt. Here is prime example of that guilt as purported by the “abusive husband” analogy:  The abusive husband always spouts this typical speech: “You are so lucky to be my wife.  I gave you this beautiful house to live in.  I bought you an expensive car to drive.  You wear the best clothes that I pay for.  You never have a hungry day in your life.  You are so lucky to live in my household.  Other households are inferior to mine.  I have the best house in the neighborhood!  So, if I slap your face, it’s because you made me angry. Don’t make me mad and we will get along fine.”

           Here is a typical Conservative speech:  “America is the best and greatest country in the world. You are so lucky to live here. America gives you so much opportunity and individual Liberty.  Where is your gratitude?  If a cop beats you, it is your fault!  If you are poor, it’s because you are too lazy to work!  Don’t make America mad and we will get along fine.”

           Conservative Americans are too intellectually indolent to grasp the concept of country.  They do not recognize that a country is not an ideology, but a geographical location. No matter how they pontificate about loyalty, they cannot propitiate the concept of to whom we are supposed to be loyal.  To my knowledge, there is no such thing as “Americanism.”  They claim that there is and, yet, when I question it, they tell me to read the King James Bible and the U.S. Constitution.  Neither the ancient text nor that founding document speaks about “Americanism.”  An intelligent person knows how to compartmentalize that which a nation is comprised of:  wealth, government, religion, culture, the arts, military, ethnicity, race, and science.  But to a jingoist, it is just one monolith, one entity; maybe some supernatural being.

           So, if America is a person, what is its gender? Is it that of a macho man or a strong woman?  What race?  I know when some people refer to America, they use, “She.” Particularly military people, who vow, “I would die for her!”  So, if America is female, then how can Evangelical Christians or Republicans be anti-feminists?  After all, they want America to be a strong country; therefore, if America is female, they support a strong woman.  Common sense, yes?  Right-wingers should practice what they preach.

           America must be a woman.  Iconic American symbols such as the Statue of Liberty, or the Statue of Freedom atop the Capitol Dome, each depict a woman.  So is America a “Motherland?”  It’s certainly not a Fatherland!  Oh, I forgot, the Neo-Liberals have renamed the USA, “Homeland.”  

           If ask me, America is just real estate and the ideology is up to Americans—its inhabitants.

           And one more question for our Right wing opponents:  Is it your position that National Identity is superior to Individual Identity?  Then you must be in favor of multi-racial Patriotism.

Well, are you?

[lnrewlbrj3krj23]

Given social media’s intrusion onto older media, what is a justifiable distribution?

Due to increased media, we know more about each other's lives.  From the roaring 20s dime novels and radio, to the 50's baby boomer's tv revolution, so each generation becomes more liberal, realizing the need for recognizing the other.  With media, we tell more details about ourselves, and recognize each other.

The degrading of society's morals is in one part, the loss of the image of purity, and very strange "iconographization" of purity.  What I means is that purity becomes expressed mainly in images in media rather than in positions of authority and power in real life.

In a way, real life authority, such as God or the King was in everyday life before, until the explosion of media captured those concepts of purity in the stories we describe to one another.  How many princes or heros are there, pure of heart in (B)ollywood?  How powerful their sense of heart is (either for humanity or a girl, who is another purity), to enable those pure of heart to save the world?  And how often does this difference of purity become exploited in porn -- the ultimate image flipper, where the pure are debased?

Is it strange then, to have sexuality, the degrading of society's morals and purity in media all tied together as an obverse triangle?  In a strange way, media becomes a distortion of everyday life, an the sense of the everyday becomes a reflection of media.  What is in media is not everyday, and what is everyday is not media.

So then, this continues on, from books into social media today, except that with so much distortion, we discover that we cannot know the everyday without stories.  The cycle of knowledge is accelerated as we start to learn about the nature of knowledge through the refinement of stories.

Take the "young millennial who narrates his own adventure", a genre stemming from the likes of ferris bueller.  In such a story we learn about what's very important to the narrator.  Such narrow cuts (haircuit, girl, car, habits) form the sense of self.  This narrative too gets played, as a moral tale that can lead to bizarro fiction, media wrapped in porn and very odd priorities in life due to strange configurations of social context, such as The Haunted Vagina.

Media distorts morals by distortedly representing who we are to ourselves.  We can be anything we like, especially via the media we choose to share  This relates to power because if all the interesting stuff happens though our favorite media, doesn't real life become a shadow of what is online?

Is this not the dilemma that faces current humankind?  That we are absorbed with the inessential?  The appearance of a loss of power is the loss of our ability to be who we are, because we are too focused on what we are not.

A Deal Marker

The image is what the man is supposed to be.  Obviously he is "supposed to" because he is not.  There is a gap between "is" and "is to be".  The infinitive as the fourth form of being, stated by Heidegger is the one that is always becoming due to morality.

[quote about how morality is metaphysical because people will be writing about morality for the next hundred years]

So neo-liberalism was in direct line to the creation of space increasingly powerful media afforded throughout human history.  As our technology became better, so we learned more about who we were, until the latent content of history forces a social "weight" passed on by generations.  This weight forms the basis of the priorities of each culture, whose horizons is the lineage afforded by nationalism and stories (nationalism is a story).

Thus while the globalist have often been contrasted with the nationalists, the state is but a model/generic name for both nation-states and states of being.  It can be said perhaps, then that media is the state of being.  And thus the one who is most on it, in theory, has the greatest expression of purpose.  But this is a definite limit, as Trump cannot even get congress to pass a vote.  It is pretty insightful of Congress to recognize the power of media.

But then again, Congress is the power of media, in part because they are over-recorded and formalized.  Buried in the history of all its sessions are honorrings of fallen comrades, procedures, and other kinds of technocratic record keeping.  So it makes sense that lawyers, the technocrats of paperwork forms the basis of social change.  The state of marriage, or a corporation or a sale of a home isn't a "word" it's an excessively" long document that defines the basis for what ownership is by protecting ownership.  The media is still today a legalism that descends from the runic legends that written language is magic.  The presence of correct documentation is as much a function of media as social media peddles in cat pictures and other kinds of information humans think is important.

So at most, the damage of media's extensiveness isn't just the rallying of powerful celebrities to incite political rebellion it's also the lack of any actual power Trump seems to have.  He can't do deals by intimidating congressmen because they are all lawyers who understand that power is the ability to justify decisions... the most emboddened of which sought to continue the work of other lawyers herself, a lawyer politicianing her way, or a politician who is able to technocrat through law (perhaps a pre-cursor was a Louis Brandeis who first used business as it was current practice to inform the decision making process and thus hide the willfulness of judges.  Brandeis helped the metrics of law's ability to hide personal will (and thus also apply it) but was really only part of an already existing tradition of media's power: as William Howard Taft was both President and Supreme Court Justice.

This shows law also in two other aspects of government:

1. In fact Obama is pretty secretive.  He is able to hide away his decision making behind the most obscure of reasons, the lack of knowledge.  In that way the opposite of business men are lawyers who understand how to control knowledge.  The ones who navigate the bureaucracy best are the ones who are able to hide in it, which leads us to

2. Neil Gorsuch who is able to hide personal decisions behind law over other people's lives, and even be proud of it.  Neil Gorsuch has tasted power, and so he's willing to continue to exercise it.  In that sense, the Republicans are lawyers for their business clients just as Democrats are lawyers for their people (voter) clients.

But regardless, so we find a failure of the status quo system with Politicial Correctness (a kind of lawyer talk) so media of the law kind, like media of the social kind cannot guarantee social change.  Perhaps this experiment is what pissed people off, that they felt commonized and disregarded by lawyers.  What do lawyers know?  They, at least the politician-kind, treated all of the world, politics and business as a matter of a kind of law.  (Witness Attacus Finch, a dad who change the world for all.  Or studies for defining queer in life, to help justify the lawyers legislate laws about what is or is not queer.) or legislate about what is or is not fair for disability, and thus extort money through law... meant to directly help the very abused.  The disability civil rights groups got these laws passed, and now some lawyer use it to justify taking money from businesses.

Law is helpless here too, as politicians can't do the bidding of businesses (or at least small business) because other politicians are afraid disabled voters will "fire them"

The power of media with civil rights can be read thusly:  Media allowed generations and people to reach a new agency about who they were.  It is as if the narratives and sensory associations of media told us who we were.  So that business, symbolic authority (through evil villians, as well) had authority over people, and livelihoods.  So they too would gain prestige like kings, and thus be associated enough with that kind of success.  So the success of business would be enough acceptable by people to vote Trump into having the symbolic authority to run the country like a business.

This draws a parallel: business hides its power by justifying its inequality.  Trump "worked for it", he "deserves" it.  Law does the same thing.  Gorsuch hides his personal will behind the veneer of legalism.  In essence, Gorsuch's ability to get through the Senate hearing to be a Justice depends on his ability to justify his decisions to lawyers who are working on their own interest because their job depends on fidelity to voters (or in some cases, corporations). 

And so, it is also law's ability to interfere with society, increasing technocratics the outrage of which, was to extend their media-based justification formalism to Take away a formal land's war-vessel.  Was it then a surprise when the field of business through Trump bumped into a catty-corner law reserved for its own super-authority?  When business sales and bullying through position and birthright only helped create the veneer of power and authority -- of which being president was used.  In essence the president as king is the power media can give a lawyer.

But it's still just image.  Republican leadership just forgot they were no longer primarily lawyers working for rich clients.  They mistaked the cohesion of their party, their little brand of brothers, for who they were.  In essence, reflected in media now: Repubs are afraid of allowing ACA to disappear because they don't work for rich clients.  They are more politician than lawyer, wanting to please their voters.  In the end, even those who are mostly lawyers believe that the law has to be based in something.

(Note the power of lawyers, to erase the Last Week Tonight story from websites across the world -- esp YouTube -- except in Argentina, where the offense was made.)

Lawyers are the gatekeepers of media.  They are the next area to be disrupted by social media, as audiences watch court drama and judge for themselves, to pressure lawyers to keep certain views.  As lawyers were able to justify what should be written for everyone (as a politician) so law is really a marker for hiding decisions.  Could social media serve that way?  Is this not Black Mirror's episode about killer bees run by social media?  In essence killer bees are the nature mankind reinvented to save itself from its own destruction of nature.  So social media is meant to help people be connected, and instead it damages them.

The scary part is that Trump unveils that politics is just lawyers running around unable to do their jobs, for confusion of who they are.  Maybe we then also lose the justification for this government.  People want to see Trump fail because he's bad.  When he full loses his justification for being President (as deal maker) he may lose his reputation.  He believed in his own hype.  But if we see Trump fail, the question is, who will step up?  Another lawyer for social engineering?  This is a lawyer who justifies his authority by an appeal to a perception of a past symbolic authority.  Could he possibly work with other lawyers and do what Trump failed to do?  Or will this older symbolic authority fail against the same fear that politicians have of their voters?  In essence as people stop believing in lawyer-justifications, will lawyers be able to keep order?  Social media rips at the veneer of lawyerly justification as laws are ironically too "complex" to be appreciated by the public.  That complexity demanded respect before social media was around.

In essence if lawyerly justification in old media is to lose its symbolic authority, the question remains: is a universal justification in new media able to pick up the mantle?

New media got Trump this far, but it shows that Trump's justification (as a deal maker) was weaker than new media's ability to get him to be president.  New media's ability is also weaker than the legalese set forth by the founding Fathers and all the lawyers who came after, eager to secure the balance of power that could help them survive... so a democracy of an increased populance (due in part to media's narrativization of being) retain the final say (in terrible mob form), or were the founding Fathers full of their own bullshit?  Did they think the media they were creating strong enough to protect them, or weak enough so that the country ran itself under the excuse that the wise and powerful were protecting them?

So we see that justifications run the country.  And that we teach each other the excuse of order under these justifications.  The justifications are not yet that social media will be used against us who knows how effective this will ever be but that we may become under the influence of social media bots for no coherent reason.

If words could justify power for the most powerful system, one that threatened to create globalism, think about what money can do.

Investors are still going crazy, because young people want homes, and older people are still alive.  Information, money and legal authority still justify authority, as authority is anything that changes social and material positioning.

So social media shows us something: first, what we want to see, and then what we didn't want to see. how corrupt some people can be when they are claiming to help others.  In this sense, social media is not a tool even if each website is a tool.  Social media is a mirror.  Each us will see in it who we think we are/the form of our priorities.

The most meaningless thing is the thing that people can see whatever meaning they like in it, so at first we share common ground. Then such a thing literally changes the world by fragmenting it so that we no longer share common ground.

Media has this power to influence people because media is an extension of how humans socialize.  Our purpose is to organize, so media in law, and social media have this power, this ability to change reality.

In essence, who/how we think we are will change who/how we are, just maybe not to increase coherency.

[lokifiction]

Caught in the Crossfire

Category: Fanfic

Rating: T

Notes/Warnings: I actually don’t believe there’s anything that warrants a warning in this chapter, save for the fact that shit starts getting real. Be prepared.

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

Chapter Twelve

            “I’ve a question for all three of you,” I announced to the room, which was quietly bustling with routine activity.

            Loki had left nearly half an hour ago, and the moment he passed through the doors, the maids arrived for their nighttime duties. Toril followed in the king’s steps, busying herself with cleaning up the dinner and never returning, Gerd tidied the rooms and laid out my nightgown, and Inge was preparing for bed, turning down the covers and helping me out of my clothes.

            Additionally, Brenna was there to examine me, measuring the training session’s effect on my health. She and the two maids I held in good standing were present in my room as I struggled with a single thought, and I knew that if I didn’t ask them, I would have nobody else to help me.

            “Surely one of us will have the answer,” Brenna decided, not looking up from her task. “What is it?”

            “This sounds silly, but, what would be appropriate to wear for a tour of the palace led by the king?”

            Brenna’s hand dropped from taking my pulse as she gaped at me with an incredulous expression. “You’re doing such a thing?”

            “Yes. He invited me for one tomorrow.”

            “That’s surprising,” Brenna commented, dark eyebrows raising.

            “Why so?”

            “I didn’t think he trusted you enough with your power yet.”

            “I didn’t either,” I agreed. “Though I have been worried that it could be some sort of twisted training exercise, as in, ‘You must succeed or else you risk lives, exposure, and your own wellbeing.’”

            “Now that I might put past him, at least as he is now.”

            “I don’t think it’s that at all,” Gerd interjected, stepping over to us. “Toril told us about the invitation, and said it sounded like he was trying to court her.”

            “I don’t believe that was the case,” I quickly denied. “But maybe he truly does want me to learn the lay of the land.”

            “It’s only the wise thing to do.” Inge added, fluffing a pillow. “If you were to get lost and run into someone you weren’t supposed to, it could be disastrous.”

            “Exactly,” I conferred, though I was strangely disappointed at all the reasons they were presenting to me, as they left me feeling unexplainably empty. “But back to my original point. I’m not used to the style here, so I don’t have any idea what would be appropriate for such an outing.”

            “Something casual, of course,” Brenna insisted. “You’re not going to a grand ball. A simple walking dress will do, and not be so frivolous that you can’t move.”

            “But this is the king she’s going out with,” Inge reminded. “Her appearance has to be of the utmost presentability.”

            “He has seen me at very compromising times,” I added. “It’s not as if he’s under any illusion when it comes to my appearance.”

            “It’s just the principle of the thing,” Inge explained. “Besides, eyebrows will be raised more than they already are if they see you walking around the palace without looking proper.”

            “Are people being told I’m here, now?” I asked, the offhanded comment distracting me from my purpose yet again.

            “Yes, and they’re being fed some lie as to why, should they come across you,” Inge answered. “What that lie is, I don’t know.”

            “What about this?” Steering us back on subject, Gerd exited the wardrobe carrying a gown the in-between white and grey color of a winter’s sky. The skirt was layered and cinched at the waist, nicely complementing the v-cut neck. The long sleeves were a bell shape, and due to that I noticed that the inside of the dress was a deep purple, and the fastenings were pearls. The two other judges hummed in agreement.

            “What about you, Camryn?” Gerd inquired, angling towards me.

            “I love it. It’s gorgeous, though I do have another question.” I stepped forward to run my fingers through the surprisingly heavy fabric. “How did all of the gowns in my wardrobe get there?”

            “Asgard harbors many travelers, so it does keep a stock of gowns for nobles visiting the palace should some accident occur with the luggage, but they’re mainly kept around for…” Gerd trailed off.

            “Kept around for what?” I urged.

            “Hostages and prisoners of war,” Brenna finished bluntly. “When you started to regain your health, I dipped into those stores and had nearly everything in your size brought out for you.”

            “Well, that’s cheerful,” I muttered under my breath, though my comment was tinged with fear as I began to wonder if a prisoner of war was what I was being considered as.

            “If you’re here for long enough, the palace seamstresses might prepare you a custom wardrobe, if the king approved of it,” Brenna continued, as if sensing my discomfort.

            “That seems a trivial matter for the king to concern himself with,” I commented, half expecting the girls to tell me that Loki would be designing all my clothes for me.

            “The supplies for dressmaking cost money, and the king is in supreme charge of that, so it has to be cleared through him,” Gerd elaborated.

            “I see.”

            “Someone ought to go and take this to be pressed.” Inge, obviously tired and ready for her own bed, interrupted the conversation by stepping over and taking the gown from Gerd. “When do you need it by?”

            “Oh, dear.” I bit my lip. “He never told me a time.”

            “Would you like me to go and find out?” Inge offered, not allowing me a chance to refuse. “I’ll take this on my way.”

***

            The next morning, Gerd woke me up at eight o'clock quite gently, having learned from her last experience. My palace tour was not due to begin until eleven, but the girls insisted that I have plenty of time to eat and prepare for the outing and still have time to spare. The moment I rose, Gerd began to fuss over my hair as Inge delivered my newly laundered and pressed gown before going to assist Toril as she arrived with the breakfast tray and usual sour expression.

            With my hair gently curled but not styled, Gerd released me to eat my light breakfast, requested due to the knowledge that in my nerves I would not be able to stomach much. Afterward, Toril left to take the dishes to the kitchens and Gerd finished my hair whilst I did my face at my own insistence.

            Once that was completed, the girls fitted me into my gown and adorned me with a small necklace and subtle comb in my hair, dotting my body with an oil that smelt of roses and vanilla before finally declaring me ready. Reflecting on what had just happened, it seemed an odd amount of preparation for a man in front of whom I’d been in a murderous rage, distraught, maddened, and exhausted, in all sorts of unflattering an inappropriate dress, my hair a mess each time. Further analysis made me begin to feel embarrassed of the tunic and trousers I’d worn the day before, with my hair in a lazy braid, wondering if that was not the correct thing for me to have done.

            “Unfortunately, we must leave you now,” Gerd declared, pulling me from my stupor. “We would like to stay and wait with you, but there’s a staff meeting we have to attend.”

            “Oh.” I tried not to show my disappointment as they left, but called out for Inge just before she passed through the door.

            “Yes?” She inquired.

            “I just wondered how I should behave,” I replied, biting my lip.

            “Like yourself,” she answered simply. “But carefully. The king is already an easily roused person, and what with everything that’s happened and his mourning, he will be especially sensitive. If he’s upset, you may come to find out that you’re not the only one that loses control of powers when emotions run high.”

            “I don’t need to find that out,” I muttered under my breath as I was left alone. “I’ve seen it. And I definitely don’t want to ever witness it again.”

            At exactly eleven o'clock, a soft yet purposeful knock sounded on the door, though the metal it was forged from caused the sound to echo throughout the sitting room. My heart jumped into my throat as I swiftly rose from my chair to open it. When the corridor without was revealed, Loki stared down at me with a pleasant expression that turned down into one of concern as he noted my slightly stunned appearance.

            “What’s wrong?” He inquired, looking over my shoulder as if he could find the answer to my mood in the room behind me.

            “Nothing.” I shook my head to right myself. “No guard again?”

            Loki chuckled, gesturing for me to step into the corridor. “I intend for this day to be incredibly informal, so that would not have fit the mood very well. I’ve actually sent away the guards that are supposed to constantly attend me. I don’t want them hovering over our shoulders, and I’m confident that with our talents combined we could successfully ward off any threat until the nearest sentry arrived.”

            At those words, my earlier fears flooded my mind, and I gulped before opening my mouth to speak.

            “This outing isn’t just a disguise for a training session, is it? Some version of ‘You have to control yourself or else you’ll kill somebody’?”

            “Gods, no!” Loki exclaimed in reply. “I would never do that before you were ready and risk the lives of everybody in the vicinity. That method of learning was something I experienced as a child, and I will assure you, it did no good. Besides, the palace is nearly empty, so the chances of us encountering anyone are close to none.” He offered me his arm. “Shall we begin?”

            I stared at him for an uncomfortable amount of time before hesitantly reaching out and sliding my hand under his forearm, not allowing myself to relax fully. Though, even in the unnatural position I adopted as I attempted to not touch him any more than necessary, I noticed that though his arm was slender, the strength in it was apparent, hard muscles stretching under his skin and veins prominent beneath his tunic. I sucked in a breath to stop the flutter of my heart but only caught his scent, a mixture of winter and petrichor.

            “You must be lonely,” I commented, forcing myself to regain my senses. “I haven’t seen anyone around here but servants.”

            “That’s because there’s truly no one here but servants. The staff are the primary inhabitants of the palace at the moment. It’s quite strange; usually it’s bursting with life, nobles visiting for one festival or ball or event or the other, envoys from every corner of the universe trying to avoid numerous wars and rebellions, advisors overflowing the walls, wanting to tell us what to say to those envoys, servant’s children that are here with no purpose other than to run about…” He cleared his throat as if saddened by the memories. “Most of them left with the change of monarch, which is to be expected. However, since the switch was a sudden one, replacements were not lined up. The members of the High Council of Asgard change only with their death, though, so they’re here, but I hardly ever come across them except in scheduled meetings.” He smiled over at me. “That’s why I have you. I look forward to your training sessions as a break in the monotony.”

            “Well, I’m glad your teaching me does both of us some good.”

            “I’m certain it will. But besides that, I want to put in as much time as I can with you, seeing as the palace will likely return to its normal bustling state within the next moon. I want to make as much progress as we can before then.”

            “What are you going to tell people if they come across me and wonder who I am?” I asked, recalling what Inge had told me. “Surely they’ll be suspicious of a strange girl they’ve never heard of living in the palace and being regularly attended by the king.”

            “Yes, I had thought of that as well. I’ve decided that it’s best we say you're a visiting ambassador from another realm, Alfheim perhaps, come to observe and discuss what new advantages my traits as king would bring to the relationship between the two realms. I daresay you could pass for an elf, or as much as a human could.”

            “Forgive me, but wouldn't saying I'm from Jotunheim be a better cover in the case that I randomly start glowing blue again?”

            “How do you know of Jotunheim?” Loki stiffened, voice becoming pressed.

            “Remember that infinite knowledge thing?”

            He relaxed. “Ah, yes. I rather forgot about that.”

            “Honestly, I did, too. That power only comes out every so often. Certain things will trigger a bit of information I've never heard of before but somehow know, like deja vu or a scent triggering a memory.”

            “That’s something we’ll have to work on regulating,” Loki decided, leading me around a corner. “That’s possibly the most useful skill you have, and it would be ideal for you to have use of it at all times.”

            “I don’t know if that would be the best idea, either,” I countered, lifting my skirts as we descended a flight of stairs. I assumed he meant to start from the bottom of the palace and work his way up, which would be part of the reason why he hadn’t pointed anything out yet. “The last time I had all that knowledge at once, I basically had a mental breakdown and became the textbook definition of insane. That was the night I broke into your cell and tried to strangle you. It was all just too much. I wanted it to stop, and my demented brain thought that killing off the cause would achieve that.”

            “I had no idea that’s what was happening,” he commented, stopping at the foot of the stairs and turning to face me. “I just thought you were-”

            “Possessed by the Tesseract, which was out for revenge?” I finished. “Not quite. I wanted vengeance, to be sure, but I wasn’t planning to take any action on that fantasy until that night.”

            “Well, allow me to rectify myself. We’ll have to find a way for you to have that power whenever you call on it, without causing you hysteria.”

            I agreed with a giggle, but just when Loki was about to open a door and lead me inside to truly begin our tour, Toril came sprinting down the hall.

            “Your Majesty,” she panted, nearly frantic. “Someone’s been in your chambers; they’re completely ransacked.”

            Loki perked up at that, unwrapping his arm from mine and stepping towards the maid. “Do you know who it could have been? Did they take anything?”

“The guards saw no one, and I found your rooms a complete mess when I came in to clean them, not a state you would have ever left them in,” she replied. “As for stolen items, I don’t know your inventory well enough to say. You’d better come and observe the situation for yourself.”

            “I suppose I should.” His attention returned to me, expression apologetic. “I’m terribly sorry that this tour was ended before it even began.”

            “That’s alright,” I assured, though I was a bit irked that I had spent so much time worrying and preparing for five minutes of interaction.

            “No, it’s not,” Loki insisted. “Come to my chambers later tonight, and we can talk of a time to reschedule. Could you find your way back to your apartments unassisted?”

            “Yes, I- I think so,” I replied, watching dumbfounded as he quickly strode away before I could even fully finish speaking. Toril lagged until he had rounded a corner, waiting just long enough to flash me an ominous smirk before following.

 ***

            A few hours later, at a time approved by Gerd and Inge, I made my way down to Loki’s chambers, Inge escorting me upon my request. When asking her to accompany me, I told her that her purpose was to help me find my way, but, in reality, I needed her for moral support. When we arrived in the wing of the palace that housed the royal rooms, she nodded towards the entrance to Loki’s chambers and slid around the corner as I stepped up to it and knocked.

            The door was opened with startlingly great force and revealed Loki with a rage-ridden expression that did not soften as it usually did when he saw me. Instead, it hardened considerably, lip curling in contempt.

            “Did you find out who ransacked your chambers?” I inquired, hoping that was the source of his anger. “Did they take anything important?”

            “It was nobody. I left my balcony door open by mistake, and a hawk got in. Everything is accounted for, just a mess.” His voice was dangerously low and cold. “And you are required by law to make use of one of my proper titles when speaking to me. It’s also customary to kneel or bow, but it’s already too late for that.”

            “Oh.” In all our interactions, hostile or not, that rule had never implemented before. In fact, it had been openly opposed “Well, Your Majesty, I came here upon your request to agree on a time to reschedule our palace tour for.”

            “That most definitely will not be happening,” he spat with a scoff. I had no response other than to stutter and crumple my features in confusion.

            “I can’t believe how I’ve been deluding myself,” he continued. “You’re the same monster that stood by as my mother was killed. You might as well have delivered her death blow yourself. I hate with every fiber of my being that I must keep you here so that I don’t risk my own safety, because I’d rather never see your face again. I should have executed you when I had the chance. I should have drawn it out and made you suffer as much as you’ve made everyone on Asgard suffer. As much as my mother suffered.”

            Before the door slammed in my face, Toril peeked over from where she was tidying a disaster of a room, smirk growing into a malicious grin.

 Next Chapter

[dfroza]

“caretakers of the mysteries of God”

will you conserve (guard) spiritual truth in your heart?

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 4th chapter of the letter of 1st Corinthians:

Rather than power brokers, think of us as servants of the Anointed One, the Liberating King, caretakers of the mysteries of God. Because we are in this particular role, it is especially important that we are people of fidelity and integrity. It makes little difference to me how you or any human court passes judgment on me. I even resist the temptation to compare myself to the ever-changing human standard. Although I am not aware of any flaw that might exclude me from this divine service, that’s not the reason I stand acquitted—the only supreme judge, our Lord, will examine me in the proper time. So resist the temptation to act as judges before all the evidence is in. When the Lord comes, He will draw our buried motives, thoughts, and deeds (even things we don’t know or admit to ourselves) out of the dark shadows of our hearts into His light. When this happens, the voice of God will speak to each of us the only praise that will ever matter.

Right now, brothers and sisters, the best thing I can do for you is to apply these principles to the situation with Apollos and me. Maybe we can show you the meaning of the saying, “not beyond the things written.” If you learn that, perhaps none of you will swell with pride because you fall into the seductive trap of pitting one against the other. Is there any reason to consider yourselves better than others? What do you have that you didn’t receive? If you received it as a gift, why do you boast like it is something you achieved on your own?

Now let’s see if I have it straight. You suppose that you already have all you need. You already are rich and prosperous. And without us you’ve already begun to reign like kings. To be honest, I wish you did reign so that we could reign with you because it seems to me that God has put His emissaries at the end of the line, like convicts in their final walk to certain death. We have become a spectacle to the rest of the world—to all people and heaven’s messengers. We are nothing but fools for the cause of the Anointed One while you are wise in Him. Am I right? We are feeble and tired while you are mighty and full of life. You are well respected by others while we’re treated as contemptuous creatures by pretty much everyone everywhere. Up to this very minute, we are famished, we are thirsty, and our clothes are shabby, practically rotted to pieces. We are homeless, hapless wanderers. But still we labor, working with our hands to meet our needs because, despite all of this, when a fist is raised against us, we respond with a blessing; when we face violence and persecution, we stay on mission; and when others choose taunts and slander against us, we speak words of encouragement and reconciliation. We’re treated as the scum of the earth—and I am not talking in the past tense; I mean today! We’re the scraps of society, nothing more than the foulest human rubbish.

I am not telling you all this so that you’ll feel guilty or be ashamed of how you have acted. I am only trying to warn you, just as a father would warn his children. You may have 10,000 instructors in the faith of the Anointed One, but you have only one father. In Jesus the Anointed I have become your father through my efforts in spreading the good news. So as your father in the faith, I want to encourage you to live as I have lived. Imitate my life. This is one of the reasons I sent Timothy to be with you. He is my dearly loved and faithful child in the Lord. His mission is to remind you of the way I experience life in the Anointed. In all the churches everywhere I go, I teach the same lessons the same way, and I live out those lessons. But the reality is, some of you have put yourselves on pedestals and live like you are high above the rest—it’s as if you assumed I would not return to confront your misguided pride. But I am coming. Lord willing, I will be with you soon. Then I will know what power is backing those arrogant folks and their words. The kingdom of God is not a realm of grandiose talk; it is a realm of power. So tell me what you want. Should I visit you, rod in hand ready to discipline a crew of self-important people; or should I embrace you, love you, and gently teach you as we celebrate the blessings of God together?

The Letter of 1st Corinthians, Chapter 4 (The Voice)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 18th chapter of the book of 1st Kings about a miraculous sign of fire and rain:

Many days passed, and the word of the Eternal visited Elijah during the third year of the drought.

Eternal One: Go now, and reveal yourself to Ahab. When you do, I will bring rain on the earth.

Elijah then went to reveal himself to Ahab.

During this time, there was a dangerous shortage of food in Samaria, and Ahab had summoned Obadiah to come to him. Obadiah was the coordinator of Ahab’s palace and was wholly devoted to the Eternal. Back when Jezebel was murdering all the prophets of the Eternal, Obadiah had given 100 prophets refuge. There were two caves in which he hid the prophets—50 prophets in each cave. He provided them with food and water during this time.

Ahab (to Obadiah): Search through the land, and visit all the springs and streams that run through the ravines; see if you can find any grass on which we can allow our horses and mules to graze, so that they may stay alive for as long as possible. Do this so that we don’t have to kill our own beasts.

Ahab and Obadiah split up the regions they were going to explore, and they both traveled in different directions to save time.

While Obadiah was exploring the land, suddenly Elijah came upon him. Obadiah knew who he was—a prophet—and he fell on his face before Elijah.

Obadiah: I can’t believe it’s really you, master Elijah.

Elijah: Yes, it is I. Go now, and give this message to your king: “Elijah has arrived.”

Obadiah: What is the purpose of this? Have I wronged you or God? Why do you put your servant in a dangerous spot with Ahab? Ahab will most certainly kill me. As surely as your True God, the Eternal lives, there is not a single country or kingdom that Ahab has not searched for you. Whenever a country said that you were not there, Ahab made them swear an oath that you were nowhere to be found. Now you are asking me to give him your message: “Look, Elijah has arrived.” I don’t know where the Spirit of the Eternal is going to lead you after I depart from you. In fact, I am certain if I tell Ahab that you have arrived, He will take you somewhere else; and if you are nowhere to be found, then I will be put to death. Since I, your servant, was young, all of my worship and devotion has gone to the Eternal One. Don’t you know, my master, what I did during the time that Jezebel was murdering all the Eternal One’s prophets? I gave 100 prophets refuge. I hid them away in 2 caves—50 prophets in each cave—and I provided them with food and water. Even after all that I have done for the Eternal One, you ask me to give my king the message, “Look, Elijah has arrived.” He will surely kill me!

Elijah: Do not fear for your life. As certain as the life of the Eternal One, Commander of heavenly armies, whom I serve, I will reveal myself to Ahab on this very day. You have nothing to worry about.

Obadiah approached Ahab and gave him Elijah’s message. Ahab immediately went to find Elijah.

Ahab (seeing Elijah): There you are. I thought I perceived a troublemaker in Israel.

Elijah: Hypocrite! I have caused no mischief in Israel. It is you and your family who are guilty of the very thing you accuse me of. You have turned your back on the laws of the Eternal and abandoned your devotion to Him. Instead you have given yourselves to the Baals, the masters of pagan nations. Now I want you to gather the entire community of Israel and send them to Mount Carmel to meet with me. I have a message for them. Be sure to gather the 450 prophets of Baal and the 400 prophets of the goddess Asherah—the ones who fill their mouths and stomachs with food from Jezebel’s table.

Ahab did as Elijah asked, sent word throughout the entire community of Israel, and gathered all the prophets atop Mount Carmel.

Elijah (approaching the people): How much longer will you sit on the fence, refusing to make a decision between the Lord and Baal? If you believe the Eternal One is the True God, then devote yourselves entirely to Him. If you believe Baal is your master, then devote yourselves entirely to him.

All the people who were gathered together atop Mount Carmel were completely silent. They didn’t know what to say to this.

Elijah: I am the last remaining prophet of the Eternal. Baal has 450 prophets. Let us do a test to reveal the true quality of our deities. Bring us two young bulls, the common sacrifice to your master whom you depict as a bull. The prophets of Baal may choose first which bull they want. They will kill it, chop it up, and prepare it for a fire by placing it above wood; but they will not light it. I will do the same with the other bull and prepare it for fire and place it above wood, but I will not light it. Then you call upon your god, Baal, and I will call upon the Eternal. The God who answers with fire is the one True God.

Everyone liked this idea and said, “This sounds like a worthy plan.”

Elijah (to the prophets of Baal): You have the pick of the bulls. Take the one you want, and prepare it first because there are many of you. Call upon your god, but do not set fire to the wood.

The prophets of Baal picked out their bull and prepared it. They called upon Baal from dawn till noon, crying out, “Baal, answer us with fire!” But there was no voice, no reply. Nothing happened. All they did was dance around the altar they had built and cry out to an elusive god.

At about midday, Elijah began provoking them.

Elijah: You have to shout louder than that! The one to whom you cry out certainly must be a god! Perhaps he is daydreaming or napping or away from his heavenly throne. Perhaps he is in a deep sleep, and you must wake him up. Shout louder!

So all the prophets of Baal began to shout at the top of their lungs pleading with all their might. They cut themselves with knives and swords and spears until they were covered in their own blood. Midday passed by, and the prophets of Baal kept on with their antics until it was time for the evening sacrifice. But still, there was no voice, no reply. No god heard them.

Elijah (to the people): Gather around me.

So all the people gathered around him, and he fixed the Eternal’s altar that had been torn down. Elijah gathered 12 stones, one for each of Jacob’s tribes. Jacob was the one who wrestled with God and whom the word of the Eternal One visited, saying, “Your name will be Israel.”

Elijah took the 12 stones and constructed an altar in honor of the Eternal One and carved a ditch out around it large enough to hold 13 quarts of seed. He set up the wood, chopped up the bull, and placed it on top of the wood.

Elijah (to the people): Go get four big jars, and fill them all up with water. Then pour the water out over the burnt offering and the wood. Now, do the same thing again.

And so they did it a second time.

Elijah: All right, now do the same thing a third time.

And so they did it a third time. The water covered the altar and even filled up the ditch. When it was time for offering the evening sacrifice, Elijah called out to the Eternal.

Elijah (praying): Eternal One—God of Abraham, Isaac, and Israel—reveal Yourself on this day as Israel’s God. Make it known that I serve You and have done all this because You commanded it of me. Answer me, Eternal One. Reveal Yourself so that everyone here will know that You, Eternal One, are the True God—the only God. Do it so that everyone knows You are turning the gaze of their hearts back to You again.

Right then the Eternal One’s fire landed upon the altar. The flames consumed the burnt offering, the wood, the stones, and the ground. The flames even drank up all the water in the ditch. When everyone witnessed this extraordinary power, they all put their faces to the ground in fear and awe and wonder.

People: The Eternal One is the True God! The Eternal One is the True God!

Elijah: Seize all the prophets of Baal. Don’t let a single one of them escape!

So everyone grabbed hold of the prophets of Baal, and Elijah gave instruction for them to be taken to the Kishon Valley and killed immediately—no exceptions.

Elijah (to Ahab): You should go fill your belly with food and water. I hear a heavy rain coming.

Ahab did as Elijah instructed and went to eat and drink. Elijah journeyed to the peak of Mount Carmel. There he bowed down on the ground and placed his head between his knees.

Elijah (to his servant): Go now, and look in the direction of the sea.

Servant (returning to Elijah): I did as you asked, and there is nothing in the direction of the sea.

Elijah gave him the same instruction seven times, “Go back, and look in the direction of the sea.” The servant did as Elijah requested each time; and on the seventh time, he told Elijah, “A minuscule cloud, as tiny as the hand of a man, is ascending from the sea.”

Elijah: Go quickly, and give a message to Ahab for me: “Prepare your chariot, and leave quickly before the rain gets torrential and keeps you from traveling.”

The sky became filled with dark monstrous clouds, the wind grew wild, the heavy rain fell, and Ahab traveled quickly in his chariot to Jezreel. The strength of the Eternal filled Elijah. The prophet pulled up his garment around his thighs and sprinted ahead of Ahab the entire way to Jezreel.

The Book of 1st Kings, Chapter 18 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for monday, december 19 of 2022 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about becoming a child of our heavenly Father:

Soren Kierkegaard reminds us that there are no followers of Yeshua "at secondhand," and that all of us are therefore truly "contemporaries" of the resurrected Messiah. God is not a respector of persons, and there remains the same proximity between Yeshua’s contemporaries and those of us who are living today, near the end of this age. No one can “follow Jesus” by reading the abstract speculations of theologians, just as no one can learn about Him as an archaeologist might study a relic of the past... No, the Name of God, the Tetragrammaton (יהוה), means: "God is Present" (i.e., it is a play on the Hebrew verb hayah [הָיָה], “to be”), and therefore we only come to know God through living faith - just as Yeshua’s first disciples came to realize who He was...

The same may be said regarding our spiritual "adoption" in heaven: Each person, whether Jew or Gentile, must be adopted into God's family... Our identity is a matter of faith in God’s promises, not on race, DNA, or family lineage. If you are truly one of God’s children, understand that God is your Heavenly Father and that relationship takes priority over the seeming way of the flesh in this world... Just as there are no “secondhand” disciples so there are no secondhand children. God doesn't have any grandchildren in heaven, only children: He is not your "heavenly grandfather" but your heavenly Father (אֲבִיכֶם בַּשָּׁמַיִם).

Dwight Moodly once said, “God sends no one away empty except those who are full of themselves." Similarly, Matthew Henry observed that "many ask good questions with a design rather to justify themselves than inform themselves, rather proudly to show what is good in them than humbly to see what is bad in them." It is rarely the “professor” or even the “admirer” who evidences real faith, since they are often moved by motives that disclose something other than the heart of the Father:

“Loftiness is naturally an easy thing, and to feel oneself drawn to it is easy enough. But Christ who from on high draws all men to Himself does not take them out of the world where they live, and therefore to everyone who is drawn unto Him in the heights will experience lowliness and humiliation as a matter of course.

This Christ knows very well; and He knows also that the permission to begin with the easiest, or with what seems the easiest, is a necessary deceit in the process of education, and that the fact of it’s becoming harder and harder is in order that life may become in truth a probation and examination… A man has to be handled carefully, and hence it is only little by little that his task is made clear to him, little by little he is screwed tighter and tighter by the greater and greater and greater effort of probation and examination. So little by little it becomes for the individual a serious truth that to live is to be examined, and the highest examination is this: whether one will be in truth a Christian or not.” (Kierkegaard, Training in Christianity)

While many people may “admire” Yeshua’s ethical teachings, they stumble when they are confronted with His cross... Yet this is the heart of the message of God’s love: the greatest good is revealed in the suffering of Yeshua for our sins (1 Cor. 2:2). The Master of Life was “despised, rejected of men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with sickness” from whom people turned away their faces in disgust (Isa. 53:3) -- and we are called to take up the cross and follow Him... “When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die...” We identify with the mission of God’s love and smolder through the days and nights under constant self-examination of our heart’s motivation. Following Yeshua means being a witness to His truth, and retaining the message of His love in a world of ambiguity, pain, and testing....

For those who are God’s children, testing in this age is designed to impart the character and image of God’s son within our hearts. As C.S. Lewis once remarked, “God doesn't love you because you are good, but He will make you good because He loves you.” He shows us a "severe mercy..." It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the Living God (אֱלהִים חַיִּים), though I would rather be corrected by our LORD than to be judged along with this world.

[ Hebrew for Christians]

========

Isaiah 63:16b reading:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/isa63-16b-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page (pdf):

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/isa63-16b-lesson.pdf

12.16.22 • Facebook

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

December 19, 2022

The Divine/Human Word

“God, who at sundry times and in divers manners spake in time past unto the fathers by the prophets, Hath in these last days spoken unto us by his Son.” (Hebrews 1:1-2)

The title of the Word of God is given both to Jesus Christ as the living Word (John 1:1-3; Revelation 19:13) and to the Holy Scriptures as the written Word (Ephesians 6:17; Hebrews 4:12; etc.). They are so perfectly synchronous that what is said of one can usually be applied also to the other.

Both are human, yet without error; both are divine, yet can be comprehended by man. “God was manifest in the flesh” (1 Timothy 3:16). “Holy men of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost” (2 Peter 1:21). “In him is no sin” (1 John 3:5), “the Scripture cannot be broken,” and “all Scripture...is profitable” (John 10:35; 2 Timothy 3:16).

Furthermore, each is eternal. “Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and to day, and for ever” (Hebrews 13:8). “For ever, O LORD, thy word is settled in heaven” (Psalm 119:89).

Each brings regeneration and everlasting life to all those who believe. “He saved us, by the washing of regeneration... through Jesus Christ our Saviour” (Titus 3:5-6). “God hath given to us eternal life, and this life is in his Son” (1 John 5:11). “Being born again...by the word of God, which liveth and abideth for ever” (1 Peter 1:23). “Search the scriptures; for in them ye think ye have eternal life: and they are they which testify of me” (John 5:39).

Finally, judgment comes by both Christ and the Scriptures. “The Father...hath committed all judgment unto the Son” (John 5:22). “The dead were judged out of those things which were written in the books” (Revelation 20:12). Both Christ and the Bible are vitally important to each Christian and must be studied, understood, known, loved, trusted, and relied upon in every human endeavor. HMM

[nirikeehan]

Power, Politics and Star Wars: Armitage Hux Edition

I read this article that tried to explain what Hux did in TROS and justify it and I was just not feeling it so I wrote a whole thing about it. So I thought, why not post it.

https://dorksideoftheforce.com/2019/12/22/star-wars-tros-general-hux/

I just wanna start by saying yes, I understand the logic of what happened in the film as explained by this article. I'm just here to challenge exactly what happened, why, and the article writer's attempts to justify it, because I don't find them to be an accurate summation of Hux's character. 

"It’s not hard to miss that the way The Last Jedi framed his character was very different from what we saw in The Force Awakens. At first, it almost felt as though he was a completely different character, having gone from Nazi-like general to an officer everyone refused to take seriously."

Right, and I think it's worth trying to examine why that shift in portrayal happened – behind the scenes. The writing changed hands from TFA with Lawrence Kasdan & JJ Abrams to Rian Johnson. So, clearly Johnson decided to go in a different direction with Hux. But why? Was it a continuing ploy to "subvert expectations" like he did so much in TLJ? Hence, if Hux was big and scary in the first film (obvious Nazi parallels in imagery and speech, commits literal genocide while hordes of stormtroopers look on), he had to be... silly, ineffectual and easily mocked in the second? Why?

Maybe it fits into a larger theme with Rian Johnson's writing, like... it seems like authority figures can (and should, maybe?) not be taken seriously? Think of all the authority figures in the Last Jedi. With the notable exception of Leia (who has such an iconic history) and Holdo I guess (random insert without much substance in my opinion), every single character who is, could be or once was in a position of power is cut down to size in some way. 

Luke Skywalker - crotchety old man. 

Poe - too hotheaded, needs to learn his place. 

Kylo - emo boy in a mask. 

Hux - butt of yo mama jokes. 

Snoke - literally cut in half. 

While I like this technique in some ways (I think I'm in the minority as someone who actually liked Luke being a disillusioned asshole lol, I thought it made him more interesting; and pointing out the obvious that Kylo is a conflicted try hard made him way more human and relatable to me), doing it to this extent was excessive. Especially in a film series that is supposed to have clearly defined villains. While I like the murder of Snoke because it was unexpected and it let Kylo actually have some agency to try to take over the galaxy on his own, you can't do it with every villain, or the audience isn't going to think anything is at stake anymore. So it always played really weird to me that Hux was taken from General Genocide to the target of slapstick humor. Which brings me to the next point...

"Looking back, it’s possible to interpret this as the result of how other characters viewed and treated him from that point forward, rather than an actual drastic change to the way he was portrayed. It’s possible that after Starkiller Base, the masses lost great respect for him — on both sides. He is no longer a man to fear. He’s General Hugs. He doesn’t scare anyone."

I just don't see how this is possible, to be honest. Like yeah, Starkiller base was lost, but surely not before it destroyed the entire Hosnian system, which, from what I understand, contained the entire seat of New Republic government. So I assume that means the president, vice president, whoever else was in the executive branch, all of the Senate, etc etc. Like imagine some terrorist leader called down a laser from space and obliterated all of Washington, D.C. while the President and all staff were in the White House, Congress was in session and the Supreme Court was hearing cases. We'd be like, oh my god, everyone's gone, we have no federal government, what the fuck. Even if the American army managed to destroy the weapon that did it, there'd still be basically irreparable damage to the very structure of the government and its ability to function. (Sounds like the plot of a future Michael Bay movie, but I digress.) 

The point is, whoever was responsible for the attack would probably still be pretty fearsome to the masses. And in Hux's case, considering his goal in TFA seems to be to usurp the New Republic and replace it with the First Order, at the end of the first film, he seems to be in a perfect position to do exactly that... which is why I was super confused as to why he spent TLJ chasing down like 30 rebels, who were already basically defeated?? Like, now would have been the time to take over! Don't just leave that power vacuum sitting there, buddy! Someone else is gonna fill it if you don't! (More proof I don't think Rian Johnson has cracked many history books, but the lack of coherent political framework is a major failing of the sequels in general, so it's not all entirely on his shoulders. He did seem like he was trying to engage with some of these ideas i.e. Canto Bight illustrating the evils of the military industrial complex, but they fell so flat because he just wasn't that informed about the socio-political commentary he was trying to make.) 

"This is further evidenced by the way Kylo Ren treats him the moment he becomes Supreme Leader of the First Order. Kylo quite literally begins pushing him around, constantly putting him in his place, belittling him, and making him look incompetent and expendable."

LOL this is such a fundamental misinterpretation of Kylo and Hux's relationship at the end of TLJ. Kylo didn't start pushing Hux around because everyone had lost respect for his authority. Kylo starts pushing Hux around because Kylo killed Snoke and took the Supreme Leader role himself, giving himself a BIG promotion over Hux. He went from like, army commander to freaking king. He's on a power trip, trying to assert his authority not just over Hux, but literally everyone in the First Order. The dialogue (handily linked by the article above) between them after Snoke's death very clearly states this:

Hux: Who do you think you're talking to? You presume to command my army? Our Supreme Leader is dead! We have no ruler!

Kylo: *starts choking him* The Supreme Leader is dead.

Hux: *choking* Long live the Supreme Leader. 

Kylo is subduing Hux by violence and coercion and filling the power vacuum himself (see, that's what happens to power vacuums, usually the most brutal asshole around arrives to fill it!). That's not something Hux brought upon himself in any way; it's something Kylo took by force. Hux isn't the only one following Kylo's orders by the Battle of Crait, the rest of the First Order army is also because they're all too terrified of Kylo to question him. Somehow making this only about Hux and Kylo as individuals is a really narrow-minded, boring interpretation of pretty much my favorite part of TLJ. 

"And here lies the deep change within Hux that leads us into The Rise of Skywalker. General Hux knew he would never regain anyone’s respect. He knew that Kylo Ren would continue to publicly humiliate him. He knew his chances of ever being able to regain power in the traditional sense were lost."

I still don't see how this is possible, especially since as far as I know there's no supplementary canon material to back this idea up. The article writer is grasping at straws trying to make sense of TROS's nonsensical character choices for Hux. There's all sorts of ways Hux could still regain power. I don't even know what "in the traditional sense" means? Hoping for a promotion, maybe? Sure, he could suck up to Kylo and make himself invaluable to Kylo's continued status as Supreme Leader (this is the route I took in my fanfic, since it seemed pretty plausible; Hux is set up to be the brain to Kylo's brawn). He could have Kylo assassinated and take over himself. He could recruit a whole faction of people to mutiny against Kylo. He could even sell out Kylo to the Resistance, sure, which I guess is what he was doing in TROS, but all of that is still in service of regaining power for himself.

"Hux is so angry with Kylo Ren, and filled with so much rage toward all he is and all he stands for, that he decides it does not matter which side of the war wins as long as the Supreme Leader isn’t on the winning team."

Again, I don't think this has shown to be true at all before TROS. By all appearances, Hux's goal has always been obtaining power, and the supplementary canon with his backstory seems to support this. There's so much with his father being an old Imperial and Hux growing up with the old imperial ideology and the belief that returning to some semblance of the Empire would be the most ideal outcome of the First Order's war on the New Republic. And by this logic, shouldn't Hux be thrilled by the (totally outlandish) possibility that Emperor Palpatine himself would come back to rule? Imagine all the Nazi holdovers after World War II finding out Hitler had RISEN FROM THE DEAD. They'd probably be pretty excited, no? 

But this is why reducing Hux's character to some petty asshole who has no personal values or larger ideology and just "wants to see Kylo Ren lose" is so dumb and boring to me. It means he literally no longer cares about his own personal ambitions or that of his larger ideological ones. Everything he worked for his whole life, countless hours of blood, sweat and tears, deciding to commit genocide of billions of innocent people to get the galaxy to fall in line with his vision........ amounts to literally nothing. As long as Kylo loses their little schoolyard tiff. 

Nah, I don't buy it. 

But this just speaks to generally larger problems in the sequel trilogy with the writers not having a strong grasp on the mechanisms of political power in the universe they're working with. In the films, who's fighting who and why has always been painfully vague and often confusing (why wasn't the Resistance just the New Republic army in TFA? etc), but while at least Rian Johnson used TLJ to try to engage with some of these questions of politics and power – albeit at times with cringeworthy naïveté  – TROS abandons it completely. It never once clarifies who's actually in charge here. Ostensibly it should be Kylo since he’s still got the title “Supreme Leader” in the opening scrawl, but he's running around chasing zombie Palpy! And the First Order is still very obviously still just a military operation focusing on the Resistance, so are all of the galaxy's sectors just... self-governing right now? If so, why? 

TROS's complete abandonment of the notion that anyone in this universe could even want power was completely baffling to me. It's always about power. The original trilogy was about power. Even the prequels were about power (to a micromanage-y, super boring degree. Embargoes! Trade disputes! Senate meetings with votes of no confidence!) To bring Palpatine back from the dead to make him some weirdo with a death cult who just wants the whole galaxy to die (I guess?)... none of that's compelling to me. And it seems to completely misunderstand (or willingly sidestep) any kind of interesting real world parallels, of which the original trilogy had plenty (and the 90s era EU/Legends novels in particular were really good at engaging with, probably why they're my favorite entries in the whole franchise). Which does play into my cynical suspicion that TROS was deliberately sterilized of any potential political commentary by Disney to appease the increasingly authoritarian governments in their international market. Can't have those pesky human rights cutting into their profits. :/

[jmsjss1229]

The demise of our country!

It is ashamed that our beautiful country has fallen so deep down the rabbit hole. Why is it that all of nature can live in harmony, has for millions of years and humans, with what some deem intelligence, and can’t live with each other without trying to destroy life?

Trump is nothing more than what history has been filled with, a narcissist leader who believes himself to be a god. If we look back over history you will see that every major civilization that no longer stands, came to an end because of a leader with the same belief system. The Babylonians, Egyptians, Easter Islanders, Mongols along with dozens of other leaders who led with their own beliefs of separating the people and driving lethal wedges between races.

Some of these people in governmental positions today have lost their way from what our forefathers designed the constitution for the people of our country. The great divide between the citizens of our country has now grown wider than the Grand Canyon.

The immigration concern is surreal, because there is less than 1% of our population that was not of immigrant descendant. This “white” America movement is a farce considering that every “white” person today came from another country over the last couple hundred years. Now, all of a sudden they want to close the borders from immigration because of a few ignorant thinkers who believe that the closure of immigration will enhance their lives in some form or fashion.

Crime from immigrants is fractional compared to home grown crime. The concern regarding how these immigrants are stealing jobs from home grown citizens is ridiculous and if you take a few hours and drive through the farm lands of this country you will find millions of acres of vegetables that need to be planted and harvested, with ZERO white Americans out there doing this manual labor!

In my world there are two types of people in this world; “Those that do, and those that talk about doing!” The people who are complaining the most are those that are talking about doing and complain about immigration, but would never spend a day in one of those farm fields harvesting vegetables that they find on their plates every single day!

Trump’s tariffs on China are going to drive the costs of everything through the roof and again if you think that this will bring jobs back to America, you are living on another planet. Americans do not want to do the laborism tasks that other countries like China and India are willing to do. Fair trade is a good thing, but that means fairness within the reality of what we are doing. Technology has driven the market system to new arenas and taking that into account would be how you develop fair trade, not by slapping tariffs on the items that we need for daily use. Trump’s thinking is no different than that of the Pharaohs or the Kings who have led the civilizations into fables and history books rather than survival.

Do you think the Kings or Pharaohs were concerned about meals or housing or transportation? Did it matter to them that their environments were being destroyed? Of course not, their coffers were full and when your belly is full you don’t think about the next meal. The commoners are not afforded these same choices and are always worried about where their next meals are coming from. This is how the leaders of all these demised countries and civilizations have prayed on them. Desperation causes people to believe in things that they wouldn’t ordinarily believe in and when they see rich successful leaders telling them how they can help fill their bellies, they follow like sheep. The problem is that ultimately the sheep all go right into the slaughter house and the only ones with filled bellies are the leaders and their closest allies.

What is going on in our country right now has happened many time over the recorded history of the world and you would think with all the modern technology and communication we would learn from the past, but the government is being run by a few of these same types as the Pharaohs and Kings who have led their own lands into ruins!

History has shown this over and over again and it is happening right now under our own noses. This Supreme Court nomination is just another example of how we are being led right into the monsters lair. My point is not just about the character to the nominee, because that is just one part of the equation. The main issue is how they are forcing this through without any investigations. There is an old saying; “if you have nothing to hide then you hide nothing!” If there wasn’t some form of hidden agenda with this nominee then they would open the floor to investigations and not the rush to vote him in! No different than Trump’s tax returns! If he is such an honest successful business man like he claims then why not show the world how great he is instead of just touting it over a tweet or microphone?

Divide and conquer is this tactic and it works on a battle field, but in general life it only works for a short time, then it implodes.

The only way we are going to save our country and our planet is for everyone to come to an agreement to work together, no matter what their individual beliefs are. It is ok to not have the same religion or social beliefs, but collectively we have to find middle ground to keep the planet in one piece and lasting long enough for our children’s children to live here.

The people running our government agencies have come to the belief that they can do whatever they want with no accountability or repercussions. This is what happens when we allow the leaders to run uncontested around saying or doing things without putting a stop in place.

My father told me a story of when he was running a very large corporation back in the 70’s, how he decided one Friday to come to work dressed casually. The following Monday practically every employee at his company came to work casually dressed. This was a problem for him and he had to resolve it immediately or it would have blown up even larger. This is an analogy of what has happened to our country. We sit back and allow people like Trump to call people with disabilities losers and make obscene gestures about women and now everyone else thinks they can do the same. If the head of the snake is moving the rest of the body follows.

People walk around now with their pet dogs (supposed service animals) as if they are their children and with a cavalier attitude walk right into grocery stores, department stores and even restaurants with their pets in tow. When you mention to them that this is not appropriate to have an animal in a restaurant or grocery store they become indignant with you about how they need the animal for emotional support or it is like a family member and I shouldn’t be upset over it.

When I was growing up if you walked into a grocery store carrying your dog they would have run you right out of there in a heartbeat, now a days we just allow these things to happen and move on with our own lives. Burrowing our heads in the sand and just saying that this is how life is today will not help when these narcissistic leaders begin to siphon off our resources for their own greed or make adjustments to business dealings that over time will crush the middle and lower classes.

If someone would have stood up to the Pharaohs of Egypt the Sahara desert would still be fertile farm lands or the Eastern Islands would still be inhabited along with a plethora of other civilizations throughout time.

It is not right, what is going on and I am not the only one who thinks like this, but at times it seems I am the only one speaking out. The only difference between Trump and Putin is that Putin admits his background and Trump hides his. Having your name on a building doesn’t mean you built it, it only means you found a way to put it there. This country was built on hard work, tenacity and with a plan to end tyranny.

Over the last several years we have allowed the mongrels at the top of the food chain to run amok. The guys behind the financial debacle of 2008 took golden parachutes and sailed off to greener pastures while the rest of us ran from creditors. This administration has dozens of its closest allies arrested and have plead guilty to a numerous amounts of crimes and we are collectively still supporting the man and his people behind it.

In our lifetime, if we don’t do something about all this will be like that two guys on Easter Island who were about to cut down the very last tree asking each other what are going to do next? “No worries because the King knows everything and he says everything is great and we will be OK”. 10 minutes to cut a tree down and 20 years for another to grow….

The other day Trump told reporters he has a great “in Love” relationship with the maniac who runs North Korea and this is the same man who had his own uncle tied to a post and then shot him with an anti-aircraft weapon to blow him up in front of the entire country, because he didn’t agree with his tyrannical ways. Trump spews belittling comments about everyone who doesn’t agree with him and I am convinced if he could have some of these people tied to post and shoot them with a bazooka he would do the same.

This is the leader of the United States of America, with the preface of “UNITED”. We are no longer UNITED and are severely divided. This has been in the 1000’s of years of modern man been the first steps of the downfalls of every empire and civilization.

We have the ability to go to the moon, separate atoms and the technology to do things beyond the imagination of the average man, but we cannot sit in a room, have a debate without leaving filled with anger towards the party who we don’t agree with.

This is ONE planet with one race, the human race, along with billions of other living things on it and if we do not stop the separation and figure out a way to live together, even if we disagree on philosophies, then our lives as we know it will one day in the very near future end. The planet has survived billions of years with every form of catastrophic event and will survive after we are gone, but it would be a much better scenario for our children and their children to have a united planet for them to live on. There is no plan B planet and you cannot re-cork the bottle so it is time to set aside our learned behavior, put an end to these out of touch leaders and start to all get along before we are nothing more than a page in a history book that no one will be around to read.

[trendingnewsb]

We’re at the end of white Christian America. What will that mean?

After accounting for eight out of 10 Americans in 1976, white Christians are now a minority, a study has found. The political implications could be profound

America is a Christian nation: this much has always been a political axiom, especially for conservatives. Even someone as godless and immoral as the 45th president feels the need to pay lip service to the idea. On the Christian Broadcasting Network last year, he summarized his own theological position with the phrase: God is the ultimate.

And in the conservative mind, American Christianity has long been hitched to whiteness. The right learned, over the second half of the 20th century, to talk about this connection using abstractions like Judeo-Christian values, alongside coded racial talk, to let voters know which side they were on.

But change is afoot, and US demographics are morphing with potentially far-reaching consequences. Last week, in a report entitled Americas Changing Religious Identity, the nonpartisan research organization Public Religion Research Institute (PRRI) concluded that white Christians were now a minority in the US population.

Soon, white people as a whole will be, too.

The survey is no ordinary one. It was based on a huge sample of 101,000 Americans from all 50 states, and concluded that just 43% of the population were white Christians. To put that in perspective, in 1976, eight in 10 Americans were identified as such, and a full 55% were white Protestants. Even as recently as 1996, white Christians were two-thirds of the population.

The historic Lutheran Trinity church, in Manning, Iowa. Photograph: Christopher Furlong/Getty Images

White Christianity was always rooted in the nations history, demographics and culture. Among North Americas earliest and most revered white settlers were Puritan Protestants.

As well as expecting the return of Christ, they sought to mould a pious community which embodied their goals of moral and ecclesiastical purity. They also nurtured a lurid demonology, and hunted and burned supposed witches in their midst. These tendencies to millennialism, theocracy and scapegoating have frequently recurred in Americas white Christian culture.

Successive waves of religious revival, beginning in the 18th century, shaped the nations politics and its sense of itself. In the 1730s, the preacher Jonathan Edwards sought not only the personal conversion of his listeners, but to bring about Christs reign on Earth through an increased influence in the colonies.

As the religious scholar Dale T Irvin writes: By the time of the American revolution, Edwardss followers had begun to secularize this vision of a righteous nation that was charged with a redemptive mission in the world.

This faith informed the 19th-century doctrine of manifest destiny, which held that the spread of white settlement over the entire continent was not only inevitable, but just. The dispossession of native peoples, and the nations eventual dominance of the hemisphere, was carried out under an imprimatur with Christian roots.

In the late 20th century, another religious revival fed directly into the successes of conservative politics. Preachers like Billy Graham and Jimmy Swaggart in spectacular revival meetings and increasingly on television attracted millions of white converts to churches which emphasized literalist interpretations of the Bible, strict moral teachings and apocalyptic expectations.

In the south, the explosion of evangelical churches coincided with a wave of racial reaction in the wake of the civil rights movement. After being a Democratic stronghold, the south became solidly Republican beginning in the early 1970s. The Republican southern strategy used race as a wedge issue to attract white votes in the wake of the civil rights movement, but it also proffered a socially conservative message that gelled with the values of the emerging Christian Right.

In succeeding decades, Republicans have used this mix to help elect presidents, put a lock on Congress, and extend their dominance over the majority of the nations statehouses. Leaders of the Christian right became figures of national influence, and especially in the Bush years, public policy was directed to benefit them.

Members of the United House of Prayer For All People are baptized by fire hose, a church tradition since 1926, in Baltimore, Maryland. Photograph: Jim Lo Scalzo/EPA

The author of The End of White Christian America, Robert P Jones, says it is remarkable how fast the trend is moving. In 2008, white Christians were still 50% of the population, so that theres been an 11-point shift since Barack Obamas election.

According to Jones, there are two big reasons for this shift.

One is the disaffiliation of young people in particular from Christian churches. That is, especially among the young, there are proportionally fewer Christians. If trends continue, that means that there will be fewer and fewer Christians.

While two-thirds of seniors are white Christians, only around a quarter of people 18-29 are. To varying degrees, this has affected almost every Christian denomination and nearly four in 10 young Americans have no religious affiliation at all.

The youngest faiths in America those with the largest proportion of young adherents are non-Christian: Islam, Buddhism and Hinduism. This reflects the second big driver of white Christian decline: both America and its family of faiths are becoming less white.

The big picture is the steady erosion of Americas white majority. Due mostly to Asian and Hispanic immigration, and the consolidation of already established immigrant populations, white people will be a minority by 2042. This will be true of under-18s as soon as 2023. According to Pews projections, in the century between 1965 and 2065, white people will have gone from 85% of the population to 46%.

Perhaps inevitably, this is being reflected in a more diverse religious landscape.

Martin Luther King Jr once lamented: It is appalling that the most segregated hour of Christian America is 11 oclock on Sunday morning. Even now, historically black denominations exist on parallel tracks with almost exclusively white churches, with little or no changes to their racial makeup.

But other churches are beginning to reflect the countrys increasing diversity. The Catholic church provides a stark illustration.

In the 1980s, white people outnumbered non-white people in Catholic churches by a 10-to-one margin. Now, thanks mostly to a large number of Hispanic parishioners, and the apostasy of young white people, Jones says that the church is almost reaching parity, and in many areas of the country the church is majority Latino.

From the colonial period onward, explains John Turner, the vast majority of white settlers would have considered themselves Protestant.

While the most ingrained narratives of North American history depict it as a haven for minority sects, this varied considerably by colony. People talk about the US as a Christian nation, but a better description would be a white Protestant nation that often made life uncomfortable for other groups, says Turner.

He points to anti-Catholic nativism in the 19th century, which was driven by a belief that the world is divided between Christ and anti-Christ, with Catholics on the other side of the divide.

This frequently led to violence. In 1834, a mob burned an Ursuline convent near Boston. On 6 August 1855, known afterwards as Blood Monday, 22 people died when another mob attacked an Irish Catholic neighborhood.

In 1854 the American party also known as the Know Nothings won 42 congressional seats on a populist, anti-Catholic platform. Two years later, their presidential candidate, Millard Fillmore, got a fifth of the vote.

The Mormon temple in Bountiful, Utah, sits above the Great Salt Lake at dusk. Photograph: Joel Addams/Getty Images/Aurora Open

Another example of Protestants making life uncomfortable for others was the persecution of Americas own Mormon church, founded in 1830. In the 19th century, Turner says, many Protestant Americans rejected the idea that Mormonism was really a religion at all.

Early Mormon history was marked by a series of violent attacks by non-Mormons, and subsequent escapes to new gathering places.

This repeated ostracism and violence led eventually to their overland trek to the Great Salt Lake, far from their often murderous Protestant antagonists, where they founded Utah.

From the 1890s and especially during the Great Depression, Jews were the victims of both ambient antisemitic sentiments and violent hate crimes, especially in the cities of the north-east.

The story of American Protestantism has not been all about persecution, of course. Protestant clergy and lay people have played a part in progressive struggles from abolition, to the civil rights movement, to manning the barricades in Charlottesville. Many mainstream denominations have a decidedly liberal cast on social and economic issues.

Politicized white Christian identity remains a potent force on the right. Jones points out that the Republican partys base has remained overwhelmingly white and Christian, with their decline inside the GOP tent much less dramatic than in the nation as a whole: their share of the Republican voting coalition declined only slightly over the past decade, from 81% in 2006 to 73% now.

Republican policies and priorities continue to reflect this influence. In the platform adopted at the nomination of Donald Trump, the party affirmed commitments to anti-abortion measures (including the defunding of Planned Parenthood), condemned the supreme courts decision to allow same-sex marriage, and promised to bar government discrimination against individuals and businesses who refused service to same-sex couples.

Trump himself has issued an executive order that prevents the enforcement of the so-called Johnson amendments, which stop organizations with tax-exempt status from engaging in partisan political campaigning. These measures have limited the political advocacy of churches on the Christian right, and Trumps move (which he overstated as a repeal) is a reward to evangelicals.

Even Trumps promises of a wall and an immigration crackdown reflect the values of white evangelicals, who among all faith groups are the most hostile to immigration.

White Christians are wedded to the GOP; Hawley remarks that white Christians remain the base of the GOP, and I would expect them to remain so.

Members of the St Elizabeth Parish celebrate the crowning of Saint Mary in Topawa, Arizona. Photograph: Max Becherer/AP

In a two-party system, the overwhelming whiteness of the Republican party has seen Democrats following the trends, and becoming more diverse. Democrats are heavily favored by black and Hispanic Americans, including Hispanic Catholics, by young people, and by the growing number of religiously unaffiliated Americans.

For years, these trends have produced optimism among Democrats their coalition appears to resemble Americas future, whereas the Republicans appear mired in the past, with a shrinking base. Even Republicans have been growing alarmed: the famous autopsy document produced by Reince Priebuss RNC in the wake of Mitt Romneys defeat urged the party to reach out to Latinos with, among other things, meaningful immigration reform.

A glance at the present, however, shows Republicans in charge of Congress, the presidency, and a majority of statehouses, and Trump looking to implement the stridently anti-immigrant, Christian right-friendly platform he was elected on.

Turner says that in the short term, changing demography will not necessarily guarantee election results: For a long time people have been saying that the marriage of Republican politics to white Christians was a losing game, but it wasnt last year.

And it bears saying that nothing guarantees that Latinos, African Americans, or other non-white groups in America will remain loyal Democrats. White Christianity is not an immutable category. After all, white Catholics and Mormons formerly the targets of Protestant persecution have themselves become a part of the white Christian coalition.

Last week John Judis, previously a leading advocate of demography is destiny predictions about an emerging Democratic majority, recanted, remarking: Whiteness is not a genetic category, after all; it is a social and political construct that relies on perception and prejudice. A century ago, Irish, Italians, and Jews were not seen as white.

Jones, though, thinks that even if the trends arent decisive in the short term, sooner or later these demographic realities will show up in national elections. He adds: We need to remember how close the 2016 election was.

He says there is a lag, but by 2024 the changes will have become electorally decisive, and for Republicans the problem will increasingly be that when one part of your base is so large and vocal, it becomes hard to pivot.

Republicans white Christian base in large part wants to slow immigration or even halt it altogether but it may be that that ship has sailed.

If Republicans cannot change, they may find that the country has changed around them.

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[dfroza]

“When the Lord comes, He will draw our buried motives, thoughts, and deeds (even things we don’t know or admit to ourselves) out of the dark shadows of our hearts into His light.”

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 4th chapter of the book of First Corinthians:

Rather than power brokers, think of us as servants of the Anointed One, the Liberating King, caretakers of the mysteries of God. Because we are in this particular role, it is especially important that we are people of fidelity and integrity. It makes little difference to me how you or any human court passes judgment on me. I even resist the temptation to compare myself to the ever-changing human standard. Although I am not aware of any flaw that might exclude me from this divine service, that’s not the reason I stand acquitted—the only supreme judge, our Lord, will examine me in the proper time. So resist the temptation to act as judges before all the evidence is in. When the Lord comes, He will draw our buried motives, thoughts, and deeds (even things we don’t know or admit to ourselves) out of the dark shadows of our hearts into His light. When this happens, the voice of God will speak to each of us the only praise that will ever matter.

Right now, brothers and sisters, the best thing I can do for you is to apply these principles to the situation with Apollos and me. Maybe we can show you the meaning of the saying, “not beyond the things written.” If you learn that, perhaps none of you will swell with pride because you fall into the seductive trap of pitting one against the other. Is there any reason to consider yourselves better than others? What do you have that you didn’t receive? If you received it as a gift, why do you boast like it is something you achieved on your own?

Now let’s see if I have it straight. You suppose that you already have all you need. You already are rich and prosperous. And without us you’ve already begun to reign like kings. To be honest, I wish you did reign so that we could reign with you because it seems to me that God has put His emissaries at the end of the line, like convicts in their final walk to certain death. We have become a spectacle to the rest of the world—to all people and heaven’s messengers. We are nothing but fools for the cause of the Anointed One while you are wise in Him. Am I right? We are feeble and tired while you are mighty and full of life. You are well respected by others while we’re treated as contemptuous creatures by pretty much everyone everywhere. Up to this very minute, we are famished, we are thirsty, and our clothes are shabby, practically rotted to pieces. We are homeless, hapless wanderers. But still we labor, working with our hands to meet our needs because, despite all of this, when a fist is raised against us, we respond with a blessing; when we face violence and persecution, we stay on mission; and when others choose taunts and slander against us, we speak words of encouragement and reconciliation. We’re treated as the scum of the earth—and I am not talking in the past tense; I mean today! We’re the scraps of society, nothing more than the foulest human rubbish.

Paul explains and exemplifies the goals of a mature believer in a way that may be easily contrasted with the desires of an immature believer. He is seeking love and truth more than popularity, embracing suffering rather than comfort. In fact, he disregards popularity and comfort completely so that he isn’t distracted from the love and truth of Jesus. This could be a powerful force in the world if believers embraced this kind of maturity.

I am not telling you all this so that you’ll feel guilty or be ashamed of how you have acted. I am only trying to warn you, just as a father would warn his children. You may have 10,000 instructors in the faith of the Anointed One, but you have only one father. In Jesus the Anointed I have become your father through my efforts in spreading the good news. So as your father in the faith, I want to encourage you to live as I have lived. Imitate my life. This is one of the reasons I sent Timothy to be with you. He is my dearly loved and faithful child in the Lord. His mission is to remind you of the way I experience life in the Anointed. In all the churches everywhere I go, I teach the same lessons the same way, and I live out those lessons. But the reality is, some of you have put yourselves on pedestals and live like you are high above the rest—it’s as if you assumed I would not return to confront your misguided pride. But I am coming. Lord willing, I will be with you soon. Then I will know what power is backing those arrogant folks and their words. The kingdom of God is not a realm of grandiose talk; it is a realm of power. So tell me what you want. Should I visit you, rod in hand ready to discipline a crew of self-important people; or should I embrace you, love you, and gently teach you as we celebrate the blessings of God together?

The Letter of 1st Corinthians, Chapter 4 (The Voice)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 49th chapter of the book of Genesis that tells of the end of Jacob’s life on earth:

Jacob called his sons and said, “Gather around. I want to tell you what you can expect in the days to come.”

Come together, listen sons of Jacob,

listen to Israel your father.

Reuben, you’re my firstborn,

my strength, first proof of my manhood,

at the top in honor and at the top in power,

But like a bucket of water spilled,

you’ll be at the top no more,

Because you climbed into your father’s marriage bed,

mounting that couch, and you defiled it.

Simeon and Levi are two of a kind,

ready to fight at the drop of a hat.

I don’t want anything to do with their vendettas,

want no part in their bitter feuds;

They kill men in fits of temper,

slash oxen on a whim.

A curse on their uncontrolled anger,

on their indiscriminate wrath.

I’ll throw them out with the trash;

I’ll shred and scatter them like confetti throughout Israel.

You, Judah, your brothers will praise you:

Your fingers on your enemies’ throat,

while your brothers honor you.

You’re a lion’s cub, Judah,

home fresh from the kill, my son.

Look at him, crouched like a lion, king of beasts;

who dares mess with him?

The scepter shall not leave Judah;

he’ll keep a firm grip on the command staff

Until the ultimate ruler comes

and the nations obey him.

He’ll tie up his donkey to the grapevine,

his purebred prize to a sturdy branch.

He will wash his shirt in wine

and his cloak in the blood of grapes,

His eyes will be darker than wine,

his teeth whiter than milk.

Zebulun settles down on the seashore;

he’s a safe harbor for ships,

right alongside Sidon.

Issachar is one tough donkey

crouching between the corrals;

When he saw how good the place was,

how pleasant the country,

He gave up his freedom

and went to work as a slave.

Dan will handle matters of justice for his people;

he will hold his own just fine among the tribes of Israel.

Dan is only a small snake in the grass,

a lethal serpent in ambush by the road

When he strikes a horse in the heel,

and brings its huge rider crashing down.

I wait in hope

for your salvation, God.

Gad will be attacked by bandits,

but he will trip them up.

Asher will become famous for rich foods,

candies and sweets fit for kings.

Naphtali is a deer running free

that gives birth to lovely fawns.

Joseph is a wild donkey,

a wild donkey by a spring,

spirited donkeys on a hill.

The archers with malice attacked,

shooting their hate-tipped arrows;

But he held steady under fire,

his bow firm, his arms limber,

With the backing of the Champion of Jacob,

the Shepherd, the Rock of Israel.

The God of your father—may he help you!

And may The Strong God—may he give you his blessings,

Blessings tumbling out of the skies,

blessings bursting up from the Earth—

blessings of breasts and womb.

May the blessings of your father

exceed the blessings of the ancient mountains,

surpass the delights of the eternal hills;

May they rest on the head of Joseph,

on the brow of the one consecrated among his brothers.

Benjamin is a ravenous wolf;

all morning he gorges on his kill,

at evening divides up what’s left over.

All these are the tribes of Israel, the twelve tribes. And this is what their father said to them as he blessed them, blessing each one with his own special farewell blessing.

* * *

Then he instructed them: “I am about to be gathered to my people. Bury me with my fathers in the cave which is in the field of Ephron the Hittite, the cave in the field of Machpelah facing Mamre in the land of Canaan, the field Abraham bought from Ephron the Hittite for a burial plot. Abraham and his wife Sarah were buried there; Isaac and his wife Rebekah were buried there; I also buried Leah there. The field and the cave were bought from the Hittites.”

Jacob finished instructing his sons, pulled his feet into bed, breathed his last, and was gathered to his people.

The Book of Genesis, Chapter 49 (The Message)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Sunday, April 3 of 2022 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons that looks at the True illumination of the Son:

The goal of the great Sinai revelation was not to simply impart a set of moral or social laws, but rather to “accommodate” the Divine Presence in the midst of the people. This is not to suggest that the various laws and decrees given to Israel were unimportant, of course, since they reflect the holy character and moral will of God. Nonetheless, the climax of the revelation of the Torah - its goal or purpose or "end" - was the revelation of the altar which prefigured the sacrificial work of the Lamb of God. Indeed, the central sacrifice upon this altar was the daily sacrifice (i.e., korban tamid: קָרְבַּן תָּמִיד) of a defect-free male lamb with unleavened bread and wine, one lamb offered in the morning, and another offered in the evening, so that at all times the lamb would be offered up to God. The LORD calls this "My offering, My bread..." (see Num. 28:1-8). In other words, the service and ministry of the Tabernacle constantly proclaimed the Passover Lamb of God that was offered up to deliver the faithful of Israel from the plague of death, and who would later be offered upon the cross to secure our eternal redemption (Heb. 9:11-12; 1 Cor. 5:7). The sacrifice of the lamb of God is therefore central to the meaning and purpose of the Torah.

The Talmud says "All the world was created for the Messiah" (Sanhedrin 98b). The Apostle Paul had earlier said the same thing: "All things were created by Him (i.e., Yeshua), and for Him" and in Him all things consist (συνεστηκεν, lit. "stick together") (Col. 1:16-17). Indeed, all of creation is being constantly upheld by the word of the Messiah’s power (Heb. 1:3). Creation begins and ends with the redemptive love of God as manifested in the Person of Yeshua our LORD... The Messiah is the Center of Creation - its beginning and end. As it is written: אָנכִי אָלֶף וְתָו רִאשׁוֹן וְאַחֲרוֹן ראשׁ וָסוֹף / "I am the 'Aleph' and the 'Tav,' the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End" (Rev. 22:13). “For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen” (Rom. 11:36). In everything Yeshua has the preeminence (Col. 1:18), and his “work” is of first importance (1 Cor. 2:2, 1 Cor. 15:3-4). Yeshua our Messiah is called מֶלֶךְ מַלְכֵי הַמְּלָכִים / Melech Malchei Hamelachim: The "King of kings of kings." He is LORD of all possible worlds -- from the highest celestial glory to the dust of death upon a cross. Yehi shem Adonai mevorakh: "Let the Name of the LORD be blessed" forever and ever (Psalm 113:2). So while we can agree with the Talmud’s general statement that the world was created for the Messiah, we would insist that the Messiah is none other than Yeshua, God’s Son, and indeed, the Messiah could be no other... [Hebrew for Christians]

4.1.22 • Facebook

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

April 3, 2022

Learning to Make This Day Count

“So teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.” (Psalm 90:12)

The book of Psalms is divided into five “books.” Book 4 begins with the oldest psalm written by the psalms’ oldest author, Moses. This book was assembled after the Babylonian captivity following the Jews’ return to Jerusalem during the lifespan of Zerubbabel, Ezra, and Nehemiah.

Book 4 contains many parallels, including between Israel’s 40 years of desert wandering and the Babylonian captivity. Both scenarios, sadly, came about because a disobedient generation of Israelites defiantly rebelled against God.

Why put this psalm at the beginning of Book 4? The Holy Spirit through the pen of Moses wanted to impress on God’s chosen people then and now that there is only one Person in the universe who will teach His children to live in obedience. That person is Yahweh! God doesn’t want His people to repeat the same mistakes of the past, living life in disobedience apart from God’s wisdom. Think about the 40 years of wasted wandering and another 70 years in exile as a result of ignoring God’s precious Word.

Before we, living in the 21st century, cast proverbial stones at these people, let’s ask ourselves this question: How are we ordering our lives and allowing Yahweh to teach us so that we may “gain a heart of wisdom” as we live out the few numbered days we have on this earth?

Our goal as believers in the Lord Jesus Christ should be to refrain from following the same sinful patterns of disobedience depicted in this psalm and make this day count for Yahweh. CM