Irish Times dating

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Expired products in supermarkets

2020.09.25 13:42 MelassaBB Expired products in supermarkets

Expired products in supermarkets
Hi buddies,
I would ask if you had my same experience with expired products in supermarkets.
I'm Italian and I live in Ireland, I have been living here for over a year and too many times it happened that Irish supermarkets like Supervalue, Lidl, Aldi sell expired product.
This is just an example(in pic spreadable goat cheese): I went to Aldi (19/09) to get my grocery and I didn't check the expiry date, so I just buy it.
https://preview.redd.it/2uj1r1t17ap51.jpg?width=565&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=3f7d90128af32db1b0e4553b6aa480ba6605c36a
Only after someday I saw it was expired.
Another example:One day in Supervalue I found a frozen pack of hamburger expired from August 2019, at that moment it was December 2019, I said to the staff that there are expired food in the freezers, they just said "ok I will flag it", some days after I checked the freezer and the expired burger still there.
And many times it happned thing like that, so I wanna know if just a porblem about my area or the irish food / health system it's just a crap.These things are dangerous for people, wasted money and it doesn't help about climate change and food waste.
Let me know irish buddies,Thanks
PS if some food techologist can solve my doubts could be great! :D
submitted by MelassaBB to ireland [link] [comments]


2020.09.25 00:28 5_believers 34 [M4F] Cambridge -- Irish Scientist Seeks COVID FWBs

Hello! I'm looking some dates -- socially distanced at first but eventually not, if we click.
I'm 34, 5'9", Irish (w/ cute accent), and I'm a researcher in physics. I'm generally pretty friendly and outgoing, I play a couple of different instruments, and I love listening to music and going to shows. (Well, I used to love going to shows, before you-know-what.) I run and work out regularly, I like to read, and I work on various kinds of side projects geared towards communicating science to the general public. I'm in a long term open/poly relationship with a lovely lady in who splits her time between here and New York City (or used to, before you-know-what). Basically, I have a life partner already, I'm open to any other kind of relationship that we might develop, and I'd prefer something long term.
With regard to sex, I'm fairly-to-very dominant, depending on the partner. I enjoy bondage, spanking, rough sex, threesomes, and (with a few exceptions) whatever turns you on! It's not a problem if you're new to any of the above -- in fact, based on past experience, I find that dynamic pretty sexy. (People have mentioned I have a “young professor” vibe...)
[Here](www.dropbox.com/sh/8s1m51swc3yb10u/AADusJHN_Dsm0atl8O4ddlVRa?dl=0) are some SFW photos of me. I'm looking for someone D&D free, generally a nice person, etc. If you think we might get along, pm me with some details about yourself!
p.s. I'm happy to take things slow because of COVID, but FWIW I get tested every week for work.
submitted by 5_believers to bostonr4r [link] [comments]


2020.09.25 00:18 onlyavoice [SELL] [US to US] Massive Destash-NAVA, Moona, BPAL, TSS, Shiro, CP, S92 and more!

Sorry for the massive list, but hopefully you will find some goodies you've been looking for in there! Shipping is $4 for perfumes, HG/sprays I'll have to calculate. Three Shiro shadows at the end of the list. Full, tested lightly once or twice unless otherwise stated.

The Strange South:
Nightjar (Peach blossom, honeysuckle, sage, fern, tuberose, dragon's blood, clove, and smoked vanilla.) 10ml (just above top of label) $15 PENDING
Fox’s Wedding (Summer rain, orange blossom, sunflower, juniper berry, white tea, and ylang-ylang.) 5ml (leaked a bit, just below top of label) $6
Banshee’s Holler (Moonflower, wilted carnations, white musk, birch bark, and decaying leaves.) 5ml $7.50
BPAL: (HG will increase shipping)
Deuteronomy 10:18 (Hay absolute, patchouli, agarwood, and vetiver.) 5ml $26
Maraschino Cherry Buttercream Hair Gloss 1 oz Ajevie decant in glass bottle, a bit below shoulder (message for picture) $8
Hashigo-Nori Hair Gloss 1 oz Ajevie decant in glass bottle, a bit below shoulder (message for picture) $8
Luvmilk: (these products will probably increase shipping slightly)
Demon Wood Body Spray (A blend of Italian bergamot, mandarin, rose, and white tea leaves mixed with jasmine, heliotrope and sandalwood meet warm tobacco, caramel, and honey.) 1 oz (just below label) $3 SOLD
Baby Bat Body Spray (A spicy dash of clove, candied violets, marshmallow fluff, and earl grey tea.) 1 oz (just below label) $3 SOLD
Moonalisa:
Aurelia (Delicious ripe raspberries top this lovely, raspberry jam filled, white wedding cake, doused with vanilla cream, topped with dried red rose petals, and with a hint of Sandalwood ambered musk.) 5ml $12 PENDING
Buttered Rum Crème Brûlée (A rich, caramel crusted, custard dessert with a buttery Rum boozy twist! Mmmmmm!) 5ml $12 PENDING
Chypre (Green notes of Mandarin Leaf, Orange Blossom, and Bulgarian Rose. Middle notes of coriander and Bulgarian Rose. Deeper, darker warm notes of Bourbon Vanilla, Amber, Labdanum, Musk, Tonka Bean, Sandalwood and Vetiver.) 3ml $10
Aphrodite (Sandalwood, Cinnamon, Cypress and more. Spicy and woodsy. Represents "The Maiden", love, passion, Venus, growth and longevity.) 3ml $10
NAVA:
Bastet’s Ice Cream: Cardamom and Tahitian Vanilla Crème (Tahitian Vanilla Bean Absolute, Honduran Cardamom essential oil and pods, Vanilla Crystalline Cream, Butter accord, Caramel Accord, aged Tahitian Vanilla Bean whole) Ajevie Partial, 3ml in original 5ml bottle (message for picture) $10 PENDING
Kashmir (Deep blood red musk. A scent that is both animalistic and ethereal once it blends into the chemistry of your skin. This perfume is a viscous deep blood red colour due to the nature of the components used to create such a beautifully haunting perfume.) 5ml $27
Amethyst (Single Note perfume oil built from two notes from a sweet Egyptian Sandalwood and a beautiful earthy Egyptian Teak) 5ml $27
Tibetan Santalum (Deep incense of Tibetan Champa, Tibetan Sandalwood, Australian Sandalwood, Nepalese Sandalwood, White Sandalwood, Santalum Absolute, Siam Benzoin Resin and Amber Henna, Davana distilled essential oil, Tibetan Musk, Nepalese Sugandh Kokila, Plumeria, Bastet’s Amber and soft spirals of pure eNVie Saphir Amber essence.) 2ml $10 PENDING
Vanilla Necropolis (Egyptian Red Amber, Black Rose, Egyptian Red Musk, Sweet Amber, Allspice, French Vanilla, Persian Vanilla, Vanilla Bean and Vanilla absolute. The complete aspect follows with the Purple Rose of Cairo, Egyptian Vanilla Absolute and a deeper Vanilla Necropolis resolution. Natural Vanilla fleck and/or Amber resin may be seen in the perfume but this will only enhance the scent with aging. It will dissipate with aging naturally.) 2ml $8
Eidolon (French Blue sleeping Lavender, Amber Arabian Sandalwood, Blue Musk and the memories of phantoms.) 2ml $8
Elderflower Bee (Elderflower, NA Honey Accord, Lily, Raspberry and NA Blue Amber accord) 1ml, mostly full $3
Alpha Musk:
SOLD Golden Amber (a blend of sandalwood, amber yellow, and amber brown.) 5ml $6
Antique Amber (musty dry clay infused mellow amber.) 5ml $6 PENDING
SOLD Dry Amber (a non powdery, earthy in a dry sandy woody way, effervescent amber that reminds me of the way the golden hour during the day feels. Comforting cozy yet spacious.) 5ml $6
Bardot (my lady! Gorgeous badass goddess like musk that’s insanely irresistible. Notes of roses, woods, magnolias but all blended so effortlessly and meld together beautifully in this sexy magnetizing musk. Everyone who smells it loves it. Very femme. Iconic.) 5ml $6 PENDING
I Want the Whole World! (this scent is a blend of creme brûlée, marshmallow, tonka bean, subtle caramel, sandalwood and a crystal ethereal musk with a touch of peach and citrus accord top notes. Whiffs throughout the day like a good musk should and surprisingly isn’t cloying!) 5ml $6 PENDING
Arcana Craves:
Vanilla Craves Terror (Creamy vanilla with Arcana Wildcraft’s legendary Holy Terror (burning frankincense, sandalwood, deep myrrh, and dusty beeswax candles).) 5ml $16 PENDING
Strange Fire and Fumery:
Cara Mia (Simple and elegant, dark as the night, but sophisticated and supple as black velvet dress. Cara Mia is a trip to a midnight rose garden, backed with the decadent brooding sweetness of black currant.) Dram $5
Sixteen92:
A Thousand Times More Fair (Honeysuckle nectar, magnolia blossom, passion flower, white peach skin, ripe plum, bright vanilla bean, delicate musk.) 10ml $20
The Spirit of Christmas Present (A Christmas feast of shortbread, pudding cake, winter figs, chestnuts, and dates; jolly wreaths of holly; clinking porcelain cups; the silence of new-fallen snow) 6ml $12
Grimm (Cocao absolute, Tonka bean, tobacco, immortelle, wet forest moss & leaves.) 2ml $4
Lucy Westenra (Brugmansia flower, night-blooming Cereus, oud, guaiacwood, honey, fennel, stone.) 2 ml $4
SOLD Black Sugar (Spun brown sugar, red berries, vanilla and tonka bean absolute dance with a sprinkle of dirt, a swirl of cauldron smoke, and a drop of bittersweet cocao absolute.) 2ml $4
SOLD Welcome to Burkittsville (Ancient stone, raven feather, forest floor, tangled roots, dark water, pitch-black musk) 2ml $4
Hellebore (Tuberose absolute, Sambac Jasmine, oakmoss, tobacco, chilled earth, cocao, black musk.) 2ml $4
Stereoplasm:
The Teapot (Steaming steeped black tea with bergamot, orange rind, dark tonka and budding roses - steamy and comforting, with a floral fruitiness that warms from within.) 3ml $7 PENDING
Wolfe Island (label damaged) (Intoxicating vanilla bourbon rolled over deep green moss and crumbling wet earth. Edges of smoldering birch notes, sticky calyxes and book-pressed tobacco leaves.) [labelled as 4ml, actually 3ml] $7 PENDING
Weather Girl (Ambitious vanilla (and coconut) manipulates sweet lavender and carefree wildflowers. Sweet and potent, yet soft and lingering. (Early 1990’s-inspired) ) [labelled as 4ml, actually 3 ml] $7 PENDING
Alkemia:
Autumn Alchemy 2018 (a blend of maple candyfloss, spiced amber, sugar pumpkin, ripe fig, and brown sugar.) Rollerball $16
Lacivius (Raw lust. An erotic, primal blend of carnal civet, black musk, and raw oud.) Rollerball $16
Mystery Sample Set (5 samples) $10 (3 available)
Long Winter Farm:
Cygnus (The blend is a big dose of night-blooming jasmine, followed by quite a bit of amber and a wee bit each of patchouli, frankincense, and rosewood.) 10ml $8
Deconstructing Eden:
Jasmine House (Three types of jasmine, on a bed of creamy sandalwood, Krishna amber, a scattering of deep, dark roses and a drop of coriander.) 2.5ml (a little over half full) $1 (or add onto an order over $30) PENDING
Cocoa Pink
Hummingbird (Wild golden honeysuckle, Kentucky grass, blue lotus infiltrated with delicate cool earth notes.) Dram $7
Sigh (Whispers of sweet, European lavender and weeping apple blossoms cuddled in pillows of marshmallow clouds and vanilla cream.) Dram $7
Mermaid Lagoon (Flashes of teal and deep purple shimmer in the sun as the elusive mermaids bask in the golden rays on the serene, white banks of Mermaid Lagoon – Hypnotic notes of blue water lily, papaya fruit, sultry passionflower, sweet pea all quietly accented with a single drop of sea kelp) Dram $7
SOLD Magnetic (Exotic sandalwood infused with gorgeous streaks of black vanilla bean, sugar crystals, rum raisin, smooth Tonka, tobacco leaf and golden amber) 2.5ml $3
Pipe Tobacco (Sweet, woody, masculine and rich.) 2.5 ml $3
Harajuko Bananas (Strong, rich, and sweet. Banana notes are made more complex with hints of black currant, caramel, raspberry, and vanilla. Yummy, strong, and perfect for anyone wanting more than plain bananas.) 2.5ml $3
SOLD Stingy Jack (The man behind the inspiration for the Jack O Lantern in Irish folklore comes alive in this blend showcasing notes of freshly carved Jack O Lanterns, sticky honey, mysterious black vanilla, nag champa, aged patchouli and amber.) 2.5 ml $3
Confederate Jasmine (Authentic jasmine scent- like walking past walls of climbing jasmine blossoms.) 2.5 ml $3 PENDING
SOLD Cinderella’s Carriage (What did Cinderella really wish for? We think it was this blend of Coconut Cream Pie with Marshmallow Meringue, Sweet Pumpkin, Spiritueuse Double Vanilla, and Vanilla Bean Noel. We think this is the REAL reason the prince fell in love, who could resist Cinderella in sexy foodie?) 2.5 ml $3
Lou Lou’s
Daisy’s Blend (French vanilla, vanilla cream, vanilla sugar, vanilla marshmallows, and vanilla oleoresin) Dram? $5
SOLD Carnival Crush (sugared incense, cotton candy, and a warm carnival night full of passion) Dram? $5


Makeup
Shiro
I won these in a giveaway and they have never been opened. I’m guessing 2 grams on these, as I think that was their standard? You can still find swatches on Google.
Zora Sapphire (blue with shimmer)
Destiny’s Princess (pink with shimmer)
Majora’s Mask (purple with shimmer)
submitted by onlyavoice to IndieExchange [link] [comments]


2020.09.24 21:12 StevenStevens43 Gododdin literature

Gododdin literature
Welsh triads:
I will begin this article by first explaining why i refer to the Welsh triads, as Gododdin literature.
And the reason is, because the sub-roman welsh language actually takes root in the East coast of modern day Scotland. Approximate to todays Lothian region.
Gododdin
The Gododdin (Welsh pronunciation: [ɡɔˈdɔðɪn]) were a P-Celtic-speaking Brittonic) people of north-eastern Britannia, the area known as the Hen Ogledd or Old North (modern south-east Scotland and north-east England), in the sub-Roman period. Descendants of the Votadini, they are best known as the subject of the 6th-century Welsh poem Y Gododdin, which memorialises the Battle of Catraeth and is attributed to Aneirin.
Link for photo
Gododdin territory
Norse-Gaels:
Now the Gododdin were almost definitely Norse-Gaels, speaking a Norse form of Gaelic.
Name
The meaning of Gall-Goídil is "foreigner Gaels" or "foreign Gaels" and although it can in theory mean any Gael of foreign origin, it always was used of Gaels (i.e. Gaelic-speakers) with some kind of Norse identity. This term is subject to a large range of variations depending on chronological and geographical differences in the Gaelic language, e.g. Gall Gaidel, Gall Gaidhel, Gall Gaidheal, Gall Gaedil, Gall Gaedhil, Gall Gaedhel, Gall Goidel, Gall Ghaedheil, etc. The modern term in Irish is Gall-Ghaeil or Gall-Ghaedheil, while the Scottish Gaelic is Gall-Ghàidheil.[1]
The Norse–Gaels often called themselves Ostmen or Austmen, meaning East-men
Link for photo
Norse settlements
Odin:
The name Gododdin, almost definitely derives from the Norse god, Odin.
Odin
Odin (/ˈoʊdɪn/;[1] from Old Norse: Óðinn, IPA: [ˈoːðinː]) is a widely revered god in Germanic mythology. Norse mythology
Link for photo
Odin
English language:
Now this brings me to the supposed "legendary" founder of Gwynedd, "Cunedda", who was supposed to have been a leader of the Goddodin, and the leader of the group that spread Welsh Gaelic to Wales, as well as playing a role in forming the roots for the early English language.
Kingdom
Cunedda, legendary founder of the Kingdom of Gwynedd in north Wales, is supposed to have been a Manaw Gododdin warlord who migrated southwest during the 5th century.[4]
Link for photo
Map of place-names between the Firth of Forth and the River Tees: in green, names likely containing Brittonic elements; in red and orange, names likely containing the Old English elements -ham and -ingaham respectively. Brittonic names lie mostly to the north of the Lammermuir and Moorfoot Hills and may reflect the territory of the Gododdin.[5]
Cunedda:
And despite the claim in the above quote, Cunedda is not in the slightest bit "legendary".
Cunedda
Cunedda ap Edern or Cunedda Wledig[1] (fl. 5th century) was an important early Welsh leader, and the progenitor of the royal dynasty of Gwynedd.
Myth:
The only debate to be had regarding Cunedda, is regarding his descendancy.
Some scholars consider him being of Norse Gaelic descent a myth, in favour of the more preposterous and highly unlikely claim, that a norse-gaelic speaking leader of a tribe known as "god" "oddin" and spreading a language which probably pre-dated "Roman" is somehow a Roman descendant.
This claim can only be explained by early political minded Romano Brits that wished to re-establish the Roman empire by claiming every man and his dog is a Roman heir.
Background and life
[2] His genealogy is traced back to a grandfather named Padarn Beisrudd, which literally translates as Paternus of the "red tunic". One traditional interpretation identifies Padarn as a Roman (or Romano-British) official of reasonably high rank who had been placed in command of Votadini troops stationed in the Clackmannanshire region of Scotland in the 380s or earlier by the Emperor Magnus Maximus. Alternatively, he may have been a frontier chieftain who was granted Roman military rank, a practice attested elsewhere along the empire's borders at the time. In all likelihood, Padarn's command in Scotland was assumed after his death by his son, Edern (Latin: Æturnus), and then passed to Edern's son, Cunedda.
According to Old Welsh tradition contained in section 62 of the Historia Brittonum, Cunedda came from Manaw Gododdin, the modern Clackmannanshire region of Scotland:
Y Gododdin:
Some of the finest Welsh literature ever wrote, was written by the Gododdin, which would include the Welsh triads.
Cultural influence
There are a number of references to Y Gododdin in later Medieval Welsh poetry. The well-known 12th-century poem Hirlas Owain by Owain Cyfeiliog, in which Owain praises his own war-band, likens them to the heroes of the Gododdin and uses Y Gododdin as a model. A slightly later poet, Dafydd Benfras, in a eulogy addressed to Llywelyn the Great, wishes to be inspired "to sing as Aneirin sang / The day he sang the Gododdin". After this period this poetry seems to have been forgotten in Wales for centuries until Evan Evans (Ieuan Fardd) discovered the manuscript in the late 18th century. From the early 19th century onwards there are many allusions in Welsh poetry.
Link for photo
Y Gododdin
Caswallawn:
Now this brings me to the historical Cassivellaunus.
However the historical Cassivellaunus is the exact same person as the legendary and mythological Caswallawn, mentioned in the Welsh triads.
Quite simply,Cassivellanus was his Roman name, given by Julius Caesar, but Caswallawn was his Celtic name, which is what Celts knew him as.
Cassivellaunus
Cassivellaunus was a historical British tribal chief who led the defence against Julius Caesar's second expedition to Britain in 54 BC. He led an alliance of tribes against Roman forces, but eventually surrendered after his location was revealed to Julius Caesar by defeated Britons.
Cassivellaunus made an impact on the British consciousness. He appears in British legend as Cassibelanus, one of Geoffrey of Monmouth's kings of Britain, and in the Mabinogion, the Brut y Brenhinedd and the Welsh Triads as Caswallawn, son of Beli Mawr. His name in Common Brittonic, \Cassiuellaunos, comes from Proto-Celtic \kassi- "passion, love, hate" (alternately, "long hair", or "bronze") + *uelna-mon- "leader, sovereign".[1]
Link for photo
Caswallawn's city
Trinovantum:
Now according to Welsh triads Caswallawn awarded certain nobles with titles, including that of Trinovantum (London).
Legend
Cassivellaunus appears in Geoffrey of Monmouth's 12th century work Historia Regum Britanniae (History of the Kings of Britain), usually spelled Cassibelanus or Cassibelaunus.[6] The younger son of the former king Heli, he becomes king of Britain upon the death of his elder brother Lud, whose own sons Androgeus and Tenvantius are not yet of age. In recompense, Androgeus is made Duke of Kent and Trinovantum (London),
See article here for Trinovantum
Crocea Mors:
Now, according to Welsh tradition, Caesar during his first invasion had his sword taken off him, and was made to flee back to Gaul.
Legend
Caesar invades at the Thames Estuary. During the fighting, Cassibelanus's brother Nennius encounters Caesar and sustains a severe head wound. Caesar's sword gets stuck in Nennius's shield, and when the two are separated in the mêlée, Nennius throws away his own sword and attacks the Romans with Caesar's, killing many, including the tribune Labienus.[7] The Britons hold firm, and that night Caesar flees back to Gaul. Cassibelanus's celebrations are muted by Nennius's death from his head wound. He is buried with the sword he took from Caesar, which is named Crocea Mors (Yellow Death).
First invasion:
Now Caesars accounts of his first invasion do indeed point to a failure.
Though, Caesar did claim a certain success from the first invasion, claiming to have subjugated certain parts of the Southern shores and made alliances with Southern kings.
He mentions nothing about having his sword taken off him, however.
Success and motivation
If the invasion was intended as a full-scale campaign, invasion or occupation, it had failed, and if it is seen as a reconnaissance-in-force or a show of strength to deter further British aid to the Gauls, it had fallen short. Nonetheless, going to Britain beyond the "known world" carried such kudos for a Roman that the Senate decreed a supplicatio (thanksgiving) of twenty days when they received Caesar's report. It is also suggested that this invasion established alliances with British kings in the area which smoothed the later invasion of AD 43.[23]
Link for photo
First landing
Second landing:
Typical, to Caesars claim of having made alliances with kings on the Southern shores, his second invasion attempt one year later was met with no resistance at the landing place in Kent.
Crossing and landing
Caesar landed at the place he had identified as the best landing-place the previous year. The Britons did not oppose the landing, apparently, as Caesar states, intimidated by the size of the fleet, but equally this may have been a strategic ploy to give them time to gather their forces, or may reflect their lack of concern.
Link for photo
Second landing
Return to Gaul:
The triads claim during this campaign, Caesar was again quickly put to flight.
Legend
Two years later, Caesar invades again with a larger force. Cassibelanus, forewarned, had planted stakes beneath the waterline of the Thames which gut Caesar's ships, drowning thousands of men. The Romans are once again quickly put to flight.
Roman account:
Caesar got quite far in to British mainland before becoming opposed by Caswallawn, who was also at war with the Southern brits.
And though Caesar claims victory over Caswallawn, he did still decide to withdraw his troops from Britain, back to Gaul, for some unbeknown reason.
March inland first paragraph
Caesar then returned to the Stour crossing and found the Britons had massed their forces there. Cassivellaunus, a warlord from north of the Thames, had previously been at war with most of the British tribes. He had recently overthrown the king of the powerful Trinovantes
March inland fourth paragraph
Cassivellaunus sent word to his allies in Kent, Cingetorix), Carvilius, Taximagulus and Segovax, described as the "four kings of Cantium",[33] to stage a diversionary attack on the Roman beach-head to draw Caesar off, but this attack failed, and Cassivellaunus sent ambassadors to negotiate a surrender. Caesar was eager to return to Gaul for the winter due to growing unrest there, and an agreement was mediated by Commius. Cassivellaunus gave hostages, agreed an annual tribute, and undertook not to make war against Mandubracius or the Trinovantes. Caesar wrote to Cicero on 26 September, confirming the result of the campaign, with hostages but no booty taken, and that his army was about to return to Gaul.[34] He then left, leaving not a single Roman soldier in Britain to enforce his settlement. Whether the tribute was ever paid is unknown.
Charriots:
Caesar was also very complimentary of Caswallawns use of Charriots, which is something the Welsh triads did not mention.
Military
Caesar advanced to the Thames. The only fordable point was defended and fortified with sharp stakes, but the Romans managed to cross it. Cassivellaunus dismissed most of his army and resorted to guerilla tactics, relying on his knowledge of the territory and the speed of his chariots.
Link for photo
Charriot
Meinlas:
Though, in actual fact, Caswallawns charriot likely was mentioned in Triad 38.
His horse was likely Meinlas, and his charriot, slender gray.
Unfortunately, likely mistaken as meaningless poetry.
Welsh literature
Triad 38 names his horse as Meinlas ("Slender Gray") and calls him one of the Three Bestowed Horses of the Island of Britain;[14]
Third invasion attempt:
A sensational claim is made by the Triads.
The triads claim that Caesar actually made a 3rd invasion attempt, and when Caswallawn went to fight them, he was met with an Army of Southerners fighting as Roman allies, and Caswallan was made to surrender to them, and become a vassal to Caesar.
Legend
Caesar invades a third time, landing at Richborough. As Cassibelaunus's army meets Caesar's, Androgeus attacks Cassibelaunus from the rear with five thousand men. His line broken, Cassibelanus retreats to a nearby hilltop. After two days siege, Androgeus appeals to Caesar to offer terms. Cassibelanus agrees to pay tribute of three thousand pounds of silver, and he and Caesar become friends.
Commius:
But this claim is actually supported by Caesar himself.
When Caesar conquered Gaul, turned Commius in to a vassal and sent him to Britain to help gain allies, and Commius did indeed negotiate the surrender of Caswallawn, who would have been taken by surprise by this attack from his fellow brits.
Ally to Caesar
When Julius Caesar conquered the Atrebates in Gaul in 57 BC,[1] as recounted in his Commentarii de Bello Gallico, he appointed Commius as king of the tribe. Before Caesar's first expedition to Britain in 55 BC, Commius was sent as Caesar's envoy to persuade the Britons not to resist him, as Caesar believed he would have influence on the island.[2] However he was arrested as soon as he arrived. When the Britons failed to prevent Caesar from landing, Commius was handed over as part of the negotiations.[3] Commius was able to provide a small detachment of cavalry from his tribe to help Caesar defeat further British attacks.[4] During Caesar's second expedition to Britain Commius negotiated the surrender of the British leader Cassivellaunus.[5]
Link for photo_(cropped).jpg)
Julius Caesar
Mysterious ghost invasion:
Now, this third invasion attempt is in fact supported by a mysterious happening which baffles historians and scholars alike.
Caesar apparently chased Commius across the channel, and Commius became marooned on the british shores, like a lamb to the slaughter, but Caesar, instead of attacking, turned around and headed back to Gaul.
Obviously Caesar was simply coming to get Caswallawns surrender.
Enemy of Caesar
A 1st century AD source, Sextus Julius Frontinus's Strategemata, tells how Commius fled to Britain with a group of followers with Caesar in pursuit. When he reached the English Channel the wind was in his favour but the tide was out, leaving the ships stranded on the flats. Commius ordered the sails raised anyway. Caesar, following from a distance, assumed they were afloat and called off the pursuit.[11]
Link for photo
Commius's jewelry
War with Ireland:
There is also a claim that Southern Britains during this period are also at war with Ireland.
Welsh literature
Cassivellaunus appears as Caswallawn, son of Beli Mawr, in the Welsh Triads, the Mabinogion, and the Welsh versions of Geoffrey's Historia Regum Britanniae known as the Brut y Brenhinedd. In the Second Branch of the Mabinogi, he appears as a usurper, who seizes the throne of Britain while the rightful king, Bran the Blessed, is at war in Ireland.
1287 BC:
And even in Irish mythology, during this period, there is indeed a five year interregnum period where for the first time since 1287 BC, Ireland has no high king, for five years.
Milesian
Triad 35:
Triad 35 claims that Caswallawn fought Caesar in gaul.
Welsh literature
Triad 35 indicates that Caswallawn left Britain with 21,000 men in pursuit of Caesar and never returned.[16]
Killed 6000 Romans in Gaul:
Also there was apparently a farther 6000 Romans killed in Gaul.
Welsh literature
.[17] A later collection of triads compiled by the 18th-century Welsh antiquarian Iolo Morganwg gives an expanded version of this tradition, including the details that Caswallawn had abducted Fflur from Caesar in Gaul, killing 6,000 Romans, and that Caesar invaded Britain in response.[18]
Gallic wars:
And in Julius Caesars history, he did indeed fight a war known as the Gallic wars, which Caesar did win, and the war resulted in 1 million deaths.
It was a "huge war".
It would have ended with Commius fleeing back to Britain, and with Caswallawns surrender.
Conquest of Gaul
He proved an astute commander, defeating Caesar at the Battle of Gergovia, but Caesar's elaborate siege-works at the Battle of Alesia finally forced his surrender.[67] Despite scattered outbreaks of warfare the following year,[68] Gaul was effectively conquered. Plutarch claimed that during the Gallic Wars the army had fought against three million men (of whom one million died, and another million were enslaved), subjugated 300 tribes, and destroyed 800 cities.[69]
Link for photo
Caswallawn's surrender
Romantic:
Therefore, Rachel Bromwich's notion that the Welsh triads are romance, are inconsistent with the unromantic realities of war, and contemporary history.
Welsh literature
Welsh scholar Rachel Bromwich suggests the fragmentary allusions to Caswallawn in the Triads relate to a narrative of the character that has been lost.[13] This may have been in the form of a romance detailing the king's adventures, but would have been largely uninfluenced by the classical accounts.
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2020.09.24 16:00 Angel466 [Bob the hobo] A Celestial Wars Spin-Off Part 0170

PART ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY
Robbie sat on the subway, staring blankly out the windows at the dark walls of the tunnels until light indicated another station was approaching. Having had his little talk with Daniel, he asked if he could be driven back to Bellevue. He knew Daniel was watching him with weaver eyes, but he just couldn’t bring himself to give a shit. He didn’t want to realm-step anywhere at that point. He wanted normal. He wanted … human.
Pop, you utter stick, he thought shaking his head. Six months. Six months his twice great grandfather and Aunt Collette had been surfing through his head, bringing him up to speed on everything that was shifting and bending, and it never once occurred to either of them to mention that little detail about him being an antichrist, even once?
Daniel had commandeered a black and white and had it drop him off at the hospital, but that was hours ago. He had poked his head in to check on Mason and found the day’s events had worn his friend out. That, or he’d been sedated. Either way, he was sleeping peacefully, and no one would ever know that a month ago he’d been pulverised into a pulp.
That in itself was going to be a problem. Angelo hadn’t really been given a choice about the beatdown Mason received, but it was clear from Mason’s interview that morning that he still completely blamed Angelo for it. That had been when Daniel went for snacks while Mason cried his heart out on his shoulder. Short of doing the unthinkable, they were probably never going to be roommates again.
“We’ll figure something out, buddy,” he promised, without actually touching Mason for fear he would wake him up. “Hang in there.”
But the hours he waited for news on Angelo was a killer. Security was at an all-time high now that an attempt had been made, and no one wanted to tell him anything. He tried to tell them that he was Angelo’s legal next of kin, but that didn’t help. Then he tried flirting. He made new friends and was given a few phone numbers discreetly, but no one was willing to breach protocol and tell him about Angelo. Not until he made a call to Daniel and was told to pass his phone to the nearest officer.
Then, and only then, had he been escorted into the intensive care unit where Angelo was hooked up to half a dozen machines. “They say it’s a miracle he’s still alive,” the female officer who’d walked him in whispered quietly at his side. “He’s defying all the odds. If you want my opinion, he’s had so much gear in his system, he’s immune to the rest of it.”
Robbie wasn’t sure if there was a deliberate barb in that or not, but after such a long day, he wasn’t about to let it slide. “You do realise he was chained in a room, drugged into addiction, then put to work on his knees to feed that addiction, right?”
The woman visibly blanched. “I didn’t realise it was forced.”
“And now that he’s going to testify against the very animals who did that to him, they want him dead before he can. So yeah, if he’s in there fighting to stay alive after all of that when every other lick would’ve given up and gone home, good for him.”
“I didn’t mean anything by what I said.”
Sure you did. “How long will he be asleep?”
“I can ask for you.”
“I’d appreciate that, beautiful. I promised him I’d be right behind him, so he’s going expect me to be here when he wakes up.”
She went back to the door and opened it, and while still keeping Robbie in her field of vision, she asked for the doctor to be brought in. They were only kept waiting a few minutes before a young, Hispanic doctor let himself in. He looked at both the uniformed officer and Robbie and grew annoyed. “I’ve already made my report,” he said, “And your patient is not the only patient I have in this hospital.”
“Please,” Robbie said, holding a hand up to try and circumvent the lecture, whether it was deserved or not. “I’m Angelo’s next of kin, and no one’s telling me anything. Is he going to be okay? How long will he be asleep? What’s happening with him? Will he…?”
“Alright! Alright,” the doctor said, raising both hands in a placating manner. “I didn’t realise you were Mr Trevino’s next of kin.” He went over to the clipboard at the end of the bed and flipped to the back page. “Richard, wasn’t it?” he asked, trying his best to make it appear a casual name drop.
“Robert,” Robbie corrected. “Robbie O’Hara. Come on, doc, he’s my best friend! How long’s he likely to be asleep? I want to be here when he wakes up, because he was really scared before he went under.”
The doctor sighed and lowered the board. “Right. Sorry. I had to be sure. The truth is, we don’t know exactly how long he’ll be asleep. My guess, maybe sometime tomorrow at least. Based on his bloodwork, he simply shouldn’t be alive. He’s got one hell of a guardian angel sitting on his shoulder, that’s for sure.” He looked between Angelo and Robbie and shook his head. “Either that, or he’s the luckiest man on the planet.”
Column A … column B, Robbie thought to himself, without meeting the doctor’s eyes. “Is there any way I can be called if it looks like he’s starting to come around? I mean, I can be here like really quickly if I drop everything and get here.”
The doctor looked Robbie over. “I can make a note at the bottom of his chart, but I can’t promise anyone will see it if he starts to revive. Even then, you have to be ready for the chance that … he won’t be the same.”
Robbie frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Mr Trevino has a lot of things working against him right now. Even if he does recover, there’s no guarantee to what mental capacity that recovery will be. As I said, by all accounts, he shouldn’t be alive now. He’s defying the odds just by breathing.”
“He’ll be back,” Robbie insisted, though in truth he wasn’t so sure anymore. What if that wasn’t the case? What if, in his own egotistical fashion, he had accidentally turned Angelo into the world’s first living zombie? Especially given what Daniel told him about things. His power didn’t lean towards ‘good’.
He felt the doctor’s hand on one elbow, while someone else took his other. “Why don’t you sit down for a minute, son,” he doctor suggested and he suddenly felt his backside being pushed into a chair. Not that he was fighting. The doctor knelt down in front of him. “He’s alive, Robert, and we…”
“Robbie.”
The doctor paused deliberately. “Robbie, then. Take the win where it is. He’s still here. No one knows what the future holds for Mr Trevino. Especially not us. He might even wake up and be perfectly fine. No one knows. I just need you to be aware of the possibilities.” He looked up at the female officer who stood to Robbie’s side. “I have to get back to my rounds. Medically, as his next of kin, you can sit here as long as you like, but the police may prefer to keep the room clear.”
“We do need to go, Robbie,” the female officer said, confirming the doctor’s assessment.
After two deep breaths, Robbie regained his feet and went over to Angelo. “I’ll be back, buddy. Promise,” he said, squeezing Angelo’s foot ever so slightly.
It was with a heavy heart that he left the hospital, and half an hour later, the subway he was on pulled into Houston Street which was the stop ahead of the one that would take him home.
He exited the train and made his way up the stairs to King Street. People milled around him, but no one bothered him, which was probably a good thing. He was more focused on his jewellery than the road ahead anyway. He wanted the longer walk. He wanted to think. What he really wanted was to pretend the last six hours hadn’t happened. He had been so excited to learn of his heritage. Now, he was scared shitless of it.
I’m a goddamn antichrist, kid. And so are you, cuz.
Which meant he wasn’t one of the good guys. He was … one of the others. Did it matter that he didn’t know?
It took about thirty yards of walking before he realised a familiar dark blue SUV that looked more black thanks to the night sky with matching dark windows was creeping along at his side, keeping pace with him. “Really, dude?” he asked, though it probably came out as more of a whine. He really didn’t want any more divine interventions.
The driver’s side window came down to reveal Angus behind the wheel. “Get in,” he said.
“Isn’t this where I shout, you’ll never take me alive?”
“We’re half a mile from the apartment. I will crawl this car every inch of the way until you get in.”
Robbie stopped and huffed. He would too. “Fine,” he said, stepping out onto the road in front of the car as Angus reached across and opened the passenger door for him. “But only because I don’t want you to incur a million dollars’ worth of fines on my account.”
“It’s not like I’ll pay them.” As soon as Robbie was situated, Angus picked up speed. “You look like you could use a drink.”
“An antichrist and a true gryps war commander walked into a bar.”
Angus smirked. “At least you haven’t completely lost your sense of humour.”
“Did I just turn my best friend into a living zombie?”
Angus’ head whipped to him with such a look of surprise it was almost comical. “Okay,” he said, dropping the indicator to turn right instead of going straight ahead. “Change of plans.”
Robbie sat up, even more concerned when they turned right at Vadam and went back down Hudson in precisely the opposite direction to home. “No, I … I have to cook dinner…”
“Soho has plenty of food delivery services, and I’m sure everyone in the apartment knows how to use their phones to place an order when they’re hungry.”
A few minutes later, Angus pulled into the parking shoulder just south of Pier 45 and turned off the ignition. He undid his seatbelt and reached across Robbie to open the glove compartment where he pulled out a large, screw-top flask. “C’mon,” he said, thumping it against Robbie’s chest as he opened the door and stepped out.
Robbie was tempted to sit in the car with his arms folded in stubborn defiance, but so far Angus hadn’t led him astray. So far.
“What’s in there?” he asked, joining him around the front of the car.
“Your pop’s specialty.”
Robbie jerked to a halt. “You know we’re not allowed to drink alcohol in public in this city.”
Angus chuckled. “Don’t worry, lad. The police aren’t going to come anywhere near us tonight, and even if they did,” —he shook the flask— “their machines will never register this as alcoholic.”
“Because it’ll take one whiff of it and blow up?”
“Like a litmus paper test on a nuclear fuel rod.” He gestured to the walkway that led out to the pier. “Let’s go and find somewhere quiet.”
“Why do you have ambrosia in the car?”
Angus looked across at him and smirked. “You’ve met Llyr, haven’t you?”
Robbie snickered.
They walked past the grass mounds and trees that had been planted for people to sit under and past the sunshade that now cast shadows due to the lit streetlight on either corner of the pier end. Angus put his foot on the bottom rail and twisted slightly with his forearm on the top rail to watch Robbie bringing up the rear. “So, what exactly did that idiot say to you that has you convinced you turned Angelo into a zombie?” He broke the seal of the flask and took a sip as if believing he was going to need it.
“I’m an antichrist.”
“And?”
“What do you mean, ‘and’ man? I’m a fucking antichrist!”
“And what exactly do you think that means?” He took another sip.
When Robbie held out his hand for the flask, Angus ignored it. Robbie clenched his fist in frustration. “Seriously, dude? You’re not even gonna share?”
“When you stop thinking like a human with an overactive imagination and start looking at the situation objectively as a member of the divine, I’ll share my divine drink with you.”
“What does that even mean?”
“What do you think it means to be an antichrist?”
Robbie opened his mouth to ram down Angus' throat exactly what he thought being an antichrist was. But the words never left his mouth. All of his presumptions were based on human movies and bogeyman threats. They were all different, but they had one uniting aspect. “It means I’m evil.”
Angus made a noise that was uncannily like a computerised buzzer of negativity. “Try again.”
Not believing Angus was ever going to share his drink, Robbie turned to stare out at the clock tower over in New Jersey. A quick shift of his vision allowed him to see the clock face and he sucked in a sharp breath. It was after ten!
“Don’t worry about the time, Robbie. Just answer the question.”
Robbie shot a sideways daggered look at the man who relaxed more with every mouthful of ambrosia he swallowed.
“How am I supposed to look at this objectively when being human is all I know?”
Angus rolled to his side. “You have the blood of the most powerful families running in your veins, lad. It’s no different than if you had two different nationalities in your genetic makeup.”
“Oh, there kinda is,” Robbie growled in disagreement. “The difference between being English and Irish isn’t a matter of growing horns and setting buildings on fire versus putting someone on their knees with a look.”
“Now you’re getting it,” Angus grinned, kneecapping Robbie’s rant as he took a third sip. “Good and evil are relative before you get established. Sure, where you’re raised can influence it. But that’s the same with everyone. A demon born and raised in hell isn’t likely to bat an eye at someone being skinned alive. But you were born and raised here. You’ve been influenced by the world you live in.”
Another sip. “And if you think all angels are the epitome of goodness and happy-happy-joy-joy, I’ll be the first to bust your bubble on that score too.”
“They aren’t?”
Angus flared his eyes and shook his head. “No. They’re a long way from perfect once you get them away from their establishment field. We’ve got a few stationed here, and some of them long for the glory days of battle and bloodshed. They’re not going to find it, of course, and they’re definitely not going to complain for fear of pissing off your uncle, but you’ve got a better chance of getting a demon to sing you a lullaby than one of them. Mainly because the demon would be too shit scared of you not to.”
“Because I’m evil.”
Robbie didn’t even see him move, but suddenly he was struck in the back of the head hard enough to drive his upper torso completely over the top rail. “OW!” he shouted as he straightened back up again, rubbing the back of his head that he was sure was already starting to swell into a lump. “What the puck, man?”
“If you haven’t figured out by now the fundamental difference between being an antichrist and THE Antichrist, you deserve that all night long.”
Nobody had rung his bell that hard in … ever!
“So this is how this is going to go down? You’re going to bash me in the head every time you don’t like what I say?”
Yet another casual sip. Robbie was beginning to think there’d be none left for him to try at this rate. “You’re better than this, lad. You’re letting your human prejudice cloud your judgement. Being an antichrist doesn’t mean shit except that you come from a certain line of people. What you do with it is up to you. Nothing’s changed. Daniel’s been one for almost eighty years, and he’s still the same NYPD butt-monkey asshole he’s always been.”
Robbie wondered why Angus had been so derogatorily specific in his name-calling when it was still just the two of them on the pier.
That was, until one of the pylons holding the sailcloth behind them broke away from the rest and slowly moulded into the missing detective. “You always were a prick,” Daniel growled, stalking forward to snatch the flask out of Angus’ angled hand. Two seconds later he was helping himself to a deep swig.
“You were following us?” Robbie was gobsmacked.
Daniel’s gaze met his with a look of duh. “I had the officers let me know when you left the hospital. I started tailing you as soon as you walked out the front doors.”
“And how many faces did you become?”
“Actually, I thought the Alsatian that had to realm-step every half a block to keep up with us was hilarious.”
Daniel’s scowl darkened and he speared Angus with a lethal glare. “Fuck you, you eagle-eyed prick! If you knew I was there, you could’ve at least slowed down.”
Angus pressed his lips together wryly. “You needed the exercise.”
“Double fuck you, then.”
Annnnd … since everyone seemed to be in a better mood, Robbie held out his hand for the flask once more. “So, do I get a drink now?”
Angus sobered and looked at Daniel with a quick headshake, but Daniel’s expression grew mischievous and he passed Robbie the coveted flask. “Sure. I’m not on duty.”
Robbie held the flask in both hands and sniffed the contents. Ambrosia. Drink of the Gods. Pop’s secret recipe. It smelt just like ordinary wine.
Robbie couldn’t help but look at the two older men to see if this were a con; one of whom was grinning at him, while the other rolled his eyes.
Two antichrists and a true gryps war commander walked into a bar,” Robbie said as a toast …
..and downed his first swallow of ambrosia.
* * *

PART ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-ONE

Previous Part 169
((All comments welcome))
I made a family tree/diagram of the Mystallian family that can be found here
For more of my work including previous parts or WPs: Angel466 or indexed here
FULL INDEX OF BOB THE HOBO TO DATE CAN BE FOUND HERE!!
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2020.09.24 08:22 aladyhasnonamexx It’s been over a year...

When I was pregnant I found out my SIL and I had the same due date. My (now) husband and I were in no way ready to have a child. None of our family knew we were expecting. I had a medical abortion on the weekend of Mother’s Day in 2019 (absolutely terrible timing) and I had a ~breakdown~ this Mother’s Day. It was very hard for me because my SIL kept her baby and I had to physically watch someone go through all the changes I would of went through. I still haven’t met the baby since they live in Ireland and I just feel like I will have resentment toward this child. Although, I am in a much better place now and don’t really regret my decision. (I have my moments of weakness that everyone gets) My husband’s family are traditional Irish Catholic and still live in Ireland. I have to see and live with their constant posts about pro-life bullshit on social media. Husband thinks if he was to ever tell his mother what had happened she wouldn’t judge us... but I know the truth. I don’t know how much longer I can deal with this, it’s been eating me up inside. I know that they would never accept what happened and it saddens me that I have to deal with this on my own. My own family and I have never really had the decision on if we were pro-life and pro-choice but my step-mom has said some choice words so I know her stance. I just needed to vent. I just feel like I’m very alone. I know I’m not. Two of my close friends have had abortions. 1 friend just doesn’t want children and friend 2 has kids already. I don’t know the reason of this post. I’ve been keeping the bottled up for over a year now. I’ve talked to my husband about it and he is very supportive. I just think he is naive to think that his family would be ultimately okay with what had previously happened. Also to add this current political climate and how they are trying to justify overturning Roe vs. Wade is just fucking insane to me. Abortion will never stop... it’s just safe abortion that will.
Sorry... just venting. It’s late and I’m rambling. I’m tired and exhausted from this constant battle inside me.
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2020.09.24 04:12 M1NNE5OTA Advice needed: Jewish man who wants to marry a Catholic woman

Hello! Not sure if I'm posting this in the right sub, but I'll give it a shot:
I (M 25) have been with my girlfriend (F 25) for almost six years. My family is Jewish (not very Jewish, but culturally at least) and I was Bar Mitzvah'd but haven't been to a synogogue since. Personally, I would count myself as agnostic, but still value the Jewish traditions as it feels like a way to maintain the link to my family and my Jewish identity. She was raised in an Irish-Catholic household where they are much more traditional, and her religion still means a lot to her to this day. She doesn't go to church every weekend or live under Catholic rules, but she has strong faith and considers religion a much larger part of her identity.
Imporant point about me: I've always had the personality of a "peacekeeper" after growing up in a somewhat violent household. While that's been a useful trait at times, since the start of our relationship it's sort of defined my approach toward touchy subjects, like religion: "Sure, yes babe, no problem, anything you want." She has made it extremely clear from when we started dating that she wants to raise her children catholic, and I've always been okay with that notion given the limited importance of religion in my life.
I want to marry her, and she wants to marry me. We're planning on moving in together next year, and a proposal is expected to follow, but before any of that commitment I've been forced (and urged strongly by my parents) to confront our relgious differences and be honest with myself on whether or not I'm comfortable with my children coming up to me and saying "Daddy, are you going to hell because you don't come to church with Mom and I?" or "Daddy, does Jesus love me?". These questions have thrown me for a loop. My parents are very accepting and would be okay with me raising my children catholic - but they want me to be honest with myself.
Another fear I have is falling into one of two extremes: either I feel left out of the Sunday activities between my wife and children (not to mention the fundamental understanding of the world that they share but I don't), OR I dive too deeply into all of that with them to spend time with my kids, but feel like I'm living a lie...
Luckily, my girlfriend and I are very good at communicating. I've re-surfaced these concerns with her and she's been nothing but open and collaborative in trying to find a resolution. The problem is that I find it overwhelming to try to anticipate all of the issues we'll need to work through, and challenging to identify the point where I'll finally say "Yes, okay, I'm comfortable with this - let's get married."
I'd love to hear perspectives on how to have productive conversations about this, or who to involve (e.g. counselors, priests, rabbis) in this process to help me think through this because frankly - I'm lost. Conversations between her and I are great, but almost feel biased because of how desperately we want to believe that we can work through any issue that comes about. I get the feeling that much of the problem is with me - she's stated her expectations and I feel ill-equipped to figure out whether I'm able to evaluate them and accept them.
Any advice or help would be greatly appreciated. Thanks!
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2020.09.24 04:04 M1NNE5OTA Advice needed: Jewish man who wants to marry a Catholic woman

Hello! Not sure if I'm posting this in the right sub, but I'll give it a shot:
I (M 25) have been with my girlfriend (F 25) for almost six years. My family is Jewish (not very Jewish, but culturally at least) and I was Bar Mitzvah'd but haven't been to a synogogue since. Personally, I would count myself as agnostic, but still value the Jewish traditions as it feels like a way to maintain the link to my family and my Jewish identity. She was raised in an Irish-Catholic household where they are much more traditional, and her religion still means a lot to her to this day. She doesn't go to church every weekend or live under Catholic rules, but she has strong faith and considers religion a much larger part of her identity.
Imporant point about me: I've always had the personality of a "peacekeeper" after growing up in a somewhat violent household. While that's been a useful trait at times, since the start of our relationship it's sort of defined my approach toward touchy subjects, like religion: "Sure, yes babe, no problem, anything you want." She has made it extremely clear from when we started dating that she wants to raise her children catholic, and I've always been okay with that notion given the limited importance of religion in my life.
I want to marry her, and she wants to marry me. We're planning on moving in together next year, and a proposal is expected to follow, but before any of that commitment I've been forced (and urged strongly by my parents) to confront our relgious differences and be honest with myself on whether or not I'm comfortable with my children coming up to me and saying "Daddy, are you going to hell because you don't come to church with Mom and I?" or "Daddy, does Jesus love me?". These questions have thrown me for a loop. My parents are very accepting and would be okay with me raising my children catholic - but they want me to be honest with myself.
Another fear I have is falling into one of two extremes: either I feel left out of the Sunday activities between my wife and children (not to mention the fundamental understanding of the world that they share but I don't), OR I dive too deeply into all of that with them to spend time with my kids, but feel like I'm living a lie...
Luckily, my girlfriend and I are very good at communicating. I've re-surfaced these concerns with her and she's been nothing but open and collaborative in trying to find a resolution. The problem is that I find it overwhelming to try to anticipate all of the issues we'll need to work through, and challenging to identify the point where I'll finally say "Yes, okay, I'm comfortable with this - let's get married."
I'd love to hear perspectives on how to have productive conversations about this, or who to involve (e.g. counselors, priests, rabbis) in this process to help me think through this because frankly - I'm lost. Conversations between her and I are great, but almost feel biased because of how desperately we want to believe that we can work through any issue that comes about. I get the feeling that much of the problem is with me - she's stated her expectations and I feel ill-equipped to figure out whether I'm able to evaluate them and accept them.
Any advice or help would be greatly appreciated. Thanks!
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2020.09.24 01:01 jay_mack Trek shows are judged on different spectrums Fairhaven vs. Up the Long Ladder.

The fanbase loves TNG, DS9, and then for the others, people will say they're good or they like the shows, but there's often a caveat like this:
I think Voyager was really good in some places, it has high highs, but very low lows. The problem is it just didn't rise to the challenge of it's premise - being lost in space.
How many times have you seen this?
I even somewhat agree, but the problem is no star trek is perfect, and frankly, TNG and DS9 are pretty crap in their first three years each.
Today I will contrast the episode Fairhaven in voyager, which is generally considered to be not that great, with a somewhat similar TNG episode: Season 2, episode 18 Up the Long Ladder.
So real quick: What's in Fairhaven? Against a backdrop of reductive Irish stereotypes, Janeway becomes enamored with a holographic pub owner. The story essentially boils down to the fact that Janeway can't really date anyone on the ship, so she gets swooped off her feet by this handsome irish man. However, trouble arises when she starts realizing she can edit this character to be "more perfect" for her, raising questions about what love is when you can "reprogram" your partner.
What's in Up the Long Ladder? The Enterprise comes in contact with two human colonies: one, a group of sexless cloners who are losing the ability to continue to reproduce through cloning the same DNA, and the other, a group of luddite, reductive Irish stereotypes. These two groups are unsustainable colonies, and so Picard's solution is to put them together and let "nature sort it out."
Now, both episodes sport Irish stereotyping. However, voyager's is on the holodeck, and is played like going to one of those historic museum villages, where partipants can lean into the fantasy, and see how people long ago lived. The TNG episode however, features a community with no unique culture whatsoever, who simply exist narrowly as irish stereotypes, even in the face of a wide-open galaxy. There's no inkling they've developed any culture of their own, and the scenes with them essentially boil down to cringe-inducing vignettes about horny "farmer's daughter" cliches, and "irish like to drink too much" cliches.
It's just as, if not more embarrassing than Fairhaven. But here's the rub:
While Voyager's episode tells a story about the loneliness of being captain, and the ability to edit a holodeck character to make them the "perfect" mate, the main story of Up the Long Ladder is essentially that Picard forces two cultures to merge, for no real discernible reason, and creates a mandate that every person in this colony will have to mate with three other people in order to create a gene pool that is wide enough to create a sustainable society.
At the end of the episode, the drunkard irish man leaves the meeting to go pick out his three women. The up-tight cloner rolls his eyes, everybody laughs and that's the end of the episode.
What the fuck?
We hold Picard up as this paragon of virtue, but he's essentially just forced a society to engage in mandatory polyamory - something I don't think even the staunchest polyamorist of today would think is a good idea. This, in a growing society could lead to all sorts of human rights violations - harems, sex tourism, and human trafficking, and we just end the episode there, with none of that even remotely addressed.
Now, frankly, I don't even mind that much, because TNG is just a tv show - my problem is that the star trek fanbase will so quickly shoot down the logic of a Voyager episode, they'll say "oh Janeway just made a real bad call!" and talk about how she was a bad captain, but I've literally never seen anyone talk about this episode of TNG, ever.
It tires me out, that's all.
Anyway, have a great day!
submitted by jay_mack to voyager [link] [comments]


2020.09.23 17:24 angrycarbs From a former Teenager: I'm here to tell you that Abuse, however small, is not OK and you deserve to be safe. There is help out there and I want you to know the resources. TW: Abuse/SA

Hello Teens,
I saw an earlier post on this sub about a case where a woman wasn't charged with pedophilia because she wasn't a man, and there was quite a bit of talk about it. I wanted to take some time to give you some information about abuse and sexual assault, and give you some resources to help you feel in control of your situation if you are currently or formerly a survivor of abuse/assault.
I am a male survivor myself, and now as an adult I work in the legal field helping to support survivors of abuse and assault, and I also am working to expand support and legal protection for survivors. I wish I knew what I know know when I was a teen, and I want to help in any way I can! Here's some information for you:
  1. You are NOT alone. At least one in for girls, and one in six guys, have been victimized by some sort of sexual assault. One way that perpetrators of sexual assault try to control their victims is to minimize what happened, or tell you that no one will believe you, or that you *wanted* to be assaulted so you're not really a victim. \NONE OF THIS IS TRUE*.* It can feel incredibly isolating to feel guilty about something that you've been made to believe is your fault. This isolation works in the perpetrator's advantage. Also, for guys, a perpetrator may tell you to "man up", or tell you that people will think you're gay (which there is NOTHING wrong with being gay if you are), or that you'll be seen as less than a "man' if you tell. THIS IS ALSO UNTRUE. You are who you are, no matter what has happened, and who you are is someone to be proud of, not matter what anyone tries to convince you is the truth.
  2. You DESERVE to feel safe. Many perpetrators of abuse and sexual assault try to normalize the behavior by manipulating their victims into believing that the abuse activity is totally normal and that you're just a big wuss. This helps the perpetrator to maintain control over their victims. Many perpetrators try to make their victims feel afraid, like if they tell someone that's going on it will make people mad at them or let them down. It is not normal to be in fear of pain, your safety, or that you'll be letting people down if you stop the activity.
  3. There are people out there that want you to be safe. For too long, adults have tried to disenfranchise teens, and make them feel that their needs aren't important. YOU ARE IMPORTANT, AND YOU DESERVE TO HAVE HELP IF YOU NEED IT. There are several resources out there that can connect you to someone that can get you to place where you feel safe. I'm going to list some now:
Here is a website that give you information and help on teen dating violence and sexual assault.
Here is a link to RAINN, a national hotline in the USA that provides an advocate to talk with about your situation and come up with a safety plan.
Here is a link to a PDF that has TONS of information about what's involved in the process of reporting abuse or assault, and also tons of research on the subject.
Here's a website and hotline in you're in Canada and need help.
If you're in Canada, the Canadian Red Cross has tons of resources for you.
For British and Irish Teens, here is another text and phone hotline if you need help.

I'm sorry I haven't added more, but there are similar programs all around the world. Please know that you're not alone, that you deserve to be safe and happy, and that you are not broken beyond repair. There is hope and your future is bright, no matter what your situation is right now. You have worth. You are valuable this world. You deserve to be free.
Sincerely,
A former teen, male survivor, and current adult trying to help teens feel safe.
submitted by angrycarbs to teenagers [link] [comments]


2020.09.23 16:02 CoolCrusader Why I’m Not Going To Be Playing CK 3 Anytime Soon

This is going to be a rather long read, so grab a cup of coffee or tea or whatever suits your fancy :-D
I got introduced to CK 2 fairly recently, August 2019 to be precise when I bought it in a Humble Bundle sale (Base game + 5 DLCs: Old Gods, Republic, Aztecs, Legacy of Rome, Sword of Islam).
I’d heard a lot about it and the medieval era is my favourite so I was super excited to play it. Mind you I’m an experienced strategy gamer, so I thought it’d be no big deal. Grew up on AOE series, Rise of Nations (won a tournament on that), fell in love with the Total War series starting from Medieval 2 and then almost every TW game after that, Endless Legend, Civ series, City Building Sims and other strategy games but funnily enough never played any paradox game before this. My gf had gifted me HOI4, 2-3 years ago but I never got around to playing it properly.
So anyway, I did the tutorial playthrough and then I thought let’s start my first campaign on ironman mode primarily because of steam achievements (I like maximising achievements in the shortest amount of time possible) and because I was an arrogant punk who thought CK 2 would be easy.
Boy was I wrong. I got my ass handed to me. It was such a brutal learning curve for me. I had a couple of bad starts (all ironman) as an Irish count in 867 (old gods starting date) because I read up that Ireland was supposed to be a safe launch (I didn’t realise they meant in 1066 and not 867). And I grew super frustrated. It would take too long for my chancellor to fabricate a claim. My treasury would go bankrupt because my income was low whenever I went to war. Didn’t have enough vassal levies so would always hire mercenaries who would turn on me due to going bankrupt.
The dated graphics and complex UI didn’t help either (I got LASIK surgery done recently and some of the font on 1080P is sometimes difficult to read and strains my eyes). Somehow, I managed to do fairly well in one of my playthroughs – basically learnt that crusades are the lifeline of this game. If you proactively participate in a crusade and contribute well – your game gets easier. The Pope rewards you with a lot of money (and at times land), you get prestige, you gain piety, you gain rare artifacts (and exotic lovers) , your vassals love you (I somehow figured out how to do the vassal commander swap while on a crusade on my own so that all characters with the Crusader trait get +15 bonus with each other)
But even then, my dream of conquering Britannia was left unfinished – just about managed to form the Kingdom of Ireland. After about 2-3 days (24-30 hours in game), I realised that I didn’t know much and that the game was hard. So, I grew dejected and stopped playing CK 2.
Fast forward a couple of months, CK 3 was announced and Paradox put in some challenges for cosmetic items in the upcoming CK3, so I thought I’d give it a try again. I started playing again (Ireland on Ironman in 867 – I know I’m such a sucker for punishment) but at the same time I watched a few videos online on the basics of the game. (Arumba’s videos were a lifesaver to me. He explained the basic mechanics of the game really well – CBs, De Jure issues, etc.) And I began to do slightly better. Then another bombshell dropped.
CK 2 became free on Steam. I was so miffed & salty that I stopped playing CK 2 again (I’d paid money to buy the game and barely enjoyed it before it became free – Yeah I was sulking at that time and being selfish (:-P). Btw now I’m really happy btw that people got to try such a great game for free!)
Anyway, fast forward a couple of months and as we grow closer to CK 3’s launch date some videos of CK 3’s gameplay release and some streamers get to play and showcase the game before launch so I developed an interest in playing CK 2 again -
This time I thought I was well prepared (Arumba’s videos + extensive reading online). So after a bad ironman start in India, I finally start an ironman campaign as Bjorn Ironside Af Munso with the aim to unite Scandinavia and play through the end till 1453 (by this time I had about 50 hours in game while starting).
Oh boy was that roller coaster ride for me. I made so many mistakes. For my first 3-4 rulers I did not know how to raid so was just surviving on tribal mechanics and prestige-based retinues from forming the Kingdom of Sweden. I converted to feudalism too early. That set me back by a few years. But I manged to conquer Lapland & Finland. Gavelkind screwed me and split my growing empire into Kingdom of Sweden and Finland between two brothers (I learnt that it’s better to wait and not form kingdoms & duchies with gavelkind especially if you’re planning to form an empire)
The HRE blob grew and ate up the kingdoms of Denmark and Norway so I focused on Estonia. Before I could do anything, my cousin vassal rebelled and my character was imprisoned and died. He usurped my title for the kingdom of Sweden. So I was just left with a few destitute provinces in the kingdom of Lapland and my heir was a woman. Well I was like, atleast the kingdom is still within my dynasty but no – the usurper got deposed by another character who wasn’t of my dynasty. So my character at this time is a woman ruler who tried to fight for the kingdom of Sweden but gets captured like her father.
At this point, I was feeling so low. Didn’t feel like continuing the game and was thinking of a new playthrough. Somehow, I persisted and managed to ransom my queen back AND THEN THE POPE SAVED MY ASS! He called for a Crusade on the Kingdom of Sweden. My queen was the top contributor and chose herself as the recipient and won back the kingdom of Sweden! Oh boy that was such a sweet victory. (When I saw my total dynasty score at the end of the game, she had the highest prestige contribution - 17K) – And this whole thing happened again. Another Pope saved my ass but this time against Norway!
I managed to capture the kingdom of Estonia via a holy war (Another of my characters briefly became Suomensko) and gave it to my heir to balance my demesne limit penalties. But he couldn’t control it and lost it in a rebellion.
Anyway, I finished my playthrough all the way till 1453 holding the kingdoms of Sweden, Lapland, Finland & recapture half of Estonia with a total score of 144K on Ironman mode. This playthrough took me about 50 hours and I fell in love with the game.
I keep making mistakes and learning new things all the time but it’s a lot more fun now! I really do want to play CK 3 (the graphics and new hook mechanics look amazing)
But now I first want to take my time enjoying CK 2 in each and every aspect. Even after 100 hours in, I feel like a novice, who’s just discovering newer mechanics and I so want to explore more mechanics, cultures and more DLCs etc! I feel like I haven’t done justice to this game. Barely scratched the surface.
P.S: I haven’t played a single campaign without ironman so gonna keep continuing on Ironman only :-P
submitted by CoolCrusader to CrusaderKings [link] [comments]


2020.09.22 18:49 StevenStevens43 From Gaul to Galilee

From Gaul to Galilee
Galilee:
Galilee is a region mainly located in Northern Israel.
And is apparently an old Hebrew word.
Galilee
Galilee (Hebrew: הַגָּלִיל‎, HaGalil; Arabic: الجليل‎, romanized: al-Jalīl) is a region mainly located in northern Israel. Galilee traditionally refers to the mountainous part, divided into Upper Galilee (Hebrew: גליל עליון‎, romanized: Galil Elyon) and Lower Galilee (Hebrew: גליל תחתון‎, romanized: Galil Tahton).
Link for photo
Galilee
Hebraios:
Now apparently the word Hebrew comes from the Greek "Hebraios".
Though, ultimately, derived from Genesis 10:21.
Etymology
The modern English word "Hebrew" is derived from Old French Ebrau, via Latin from the Greek Ἑβραῖος (Hebraîos) and Aramaic 'ibrāy, all ultimately derived from Biblical Hebrew Ivri (עברי), one of several names for the Israelite (Jewish and Samaritan) people (Hebrews). It is traditionally understood to be an adjective based on the name of Abraham's ancestor, Eber, mentioned in Genesis 10:21
Jewhetibew Fendy:
Though, common sense alone, may suggest that the word Jew and Hebrew were well and truly evolving as far back as the reign of Princess Jewhetibew Fendy.
Jewhetibew Fendy
Iuhetibu Fendy (also written Jewhetibew Fendy[1]) was an ancient Egyptian princess of the Thirteenth Dynasty.
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Interracial marraige marking the beginning of the 13th dynasty
Hyksos:
This marraige is believed to have led to the opening of the door for foreigners in Egypt, resulting in the Hyksos invasion.
Thirteenth dynasty
The Thirteenth Dynasty of ancient Egypt (notated Dynasty XIII) is often combined with Dynasties XI, XII and XIV under the group title Middle Kingdom. Some writers separate it from these dynasties and join it to Dynasties XIV through XVII as part of the Second Intermediate Period. Dynasty XIII lasted from approximately 1803 BC until approximately 1649 BC, i.e. for 154 years.[1]
The 13th Dynasty was a direct continuation of the preceding 12th Dynasty, with its first ruler believed to be a son of Amenemhat IV.[1] Kim Ryholt proposes that the demarcation between the two dynasties reflects the rise of the independent 14th Dynasty in the eastern Delta, an event which, he proposes, occurred during Sobekneferu's reign.[1] As direct heirs to the kings of the 12th Dynasty, pharaohs of the 13th Dynasty reigned from Memphis over Middle and Upper Egypt, all the way to the second cataract to the south. The power of the 13th Dynasty waned progressively over its 150 years of existence and it finally came to an end with the conquest of Memphis by the Hyksos rulers of the 15th Dynasty, c. 1650 BC.[1]
Hyksos invasion:
The Hyksos invasion led to the peoples of the white princess following her in to Egypt. and they caused widespread destruction.
Successors
After allowing discipline at the southern forts to deteriorate, the government eventually withdrew its garrisons and, not long afterward, the forts were reoccupied by the rising Nubian state of Kush. In the north, Lower Egypt was overrun by the Hyksos, a Semitic people from across the Sinai. An independent line of kings created Dynasty XIV that arose in the western Delta during later Dynasty XIII. According to Manetho, into this unstable mix came invaders from the east called the Hyksos who seized Egypt "without striking a blow; and having overpowered the rulers of the land, they then burned our cities ruthlessly, razed to the ground the temples of gods..." Their regime, called Dynasty XV, was claimed to have replaced Dynasties XIII and XIV in most of the country.
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Native egyptian
Gauls:
However, although Galilee comes from a word with Greek roots, even though the Greeks got that word from Genesis 10.21, when the Greeks referred to Galilee, they were actually referring to Gauls, from Anatolia, in a slightly different abbreviated form.
And Galatia was the Greek name for Anatolia, dating back to a time when the land south of Galatia was still inhabited by a mostly Arabic population.
Galatia
Galatia (/ɡəˈleɪʃə/; Ancient Greek: Γαλατία, Galatía, "Gaul") was an ancient area in the highlands of central Anatolia, roughly corresponding to the provinces of Ankara and Eskişehir, in modern Turkey. Galatia was named after the Gauls from Thrace (cf. Tylis), who settled here and became its ruling caste in the 3rd century BC, following the Gallic invasion of the Balkans in 279 BC. It has been called the "Gallia" of the East, Roman writers calling its inhabitants Galli (Gauls or Celts).
Link for photo
Galatia
Gaelic:
Now, it goes without saying really, that the language of the Gauls was Gaelic, and Gaul covered a huge territory.
In the West, Gaul included certain northern parts of Italy.
Gaul
Gaul (Latin: Gallia)[1] was a region of Western Europe first described by the Romans.[2] It was inhabited by Celtic tribes, encompassing present day France, Luxembourg, Belgium, most of Switzerland, and parts of Northern Italy, the Netherlands, and Germany, particularly the west bank of the Rhine. It covered an area of 494,000 km2 (191,000 sq mi).[3]
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Gaul/Galli
Latin league:
In fact, the Romans got their Latin language from the Gauls, who were evolving in to speaking a more modern Latinised Gaelic version of language, when the Romans conquered the Latin league, and adopted their language, which was still partially Gaelic.
Roman leadership of the league
During the reign of Tarquinius Superbus, the Latins were persuaded to acknowledge the leadership of Rome. The treaty with Rome was renewed, and it was agreed that the troops of the Latins would attend on an appointed day to form a united military force with the troops of Rome. That was done, and Tarquin formed combined units of Roman and Latin troops.[4]
The early Roman Republic formed an alliance with the Latin League in 493 BC. According to Roman tradition, the treaty, the foedus Cassianum,[5] followed a Roman victory over the league in the Battle of Lake Regillus.
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Latin league headquarters
Dorian invasion:
And even the Greek language, which plays back words to people, is actually not an ancient language in the scale of things, and they got their language from the Dorian invasion.
There would be a very strong chance that the Dorians were the very same people that were conquering their territory, in both Greece, and Anatolia.
And the Dorians came from the North, pushing south around 1000 BC.
Dorian invasion
The Dorian invasion is a concept devised by historians of Ancient Greece to explain the replacement of pre-classical dialects and traditions in southern Greece by the ones that prevailed in Classical Greece. The latter were named Dorian by the ancient Greek writers, after the Dorians, the historical population that spoke them.
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Dorian invasion
Hittites:
In fact, Westerners in this region can be dated back to the Hittite empire of 1600 BC.
Hittites
The Hittites (/ˈhɪtaɪts/) (Ancient Greek: Χετταίοι, Latin Hetthaei) were an Anatolian people who played an important role in establishing an empire centered on Hattusa in north-central Anatolia around 1600 BC. This empire reached its height during the mid-14th century BC under Šuppiluliuma I, when it encompassed an area that included most of Anatolia as well as parts of the northern Levant and Upper Mesopotamia.
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Hittite empire
Indo-Aryan:
The Hittite empire was an Aryan empire, centred by the Indo-Aryan coregents of Mitanni, which united Indus valley to Europe.
Though the Indo-Aryan kings of Mitanni ruled a land mostly populated by non indo-european speaking Arabs.
Mitanni
While the Mitanni kings and other members of royalty bore names resembling Indo-Aryan phonology,[4] they used the language of the local people, which was at that time a non-Indo-European language
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Indo Aryan co-regents
Hebrew:
Now, according to Jewish tradition, Hebrew simply means from the otherside of the rivedesert.
There is much speculation as to where the otherside is.
However a clue could come from Abraham.
Wherever the otherside is, the Hebrew language is supposed to have evolved from a descnedant of Abraham named Eber.
Etymology
It is traditionally understood to be an adjective based on the name of Abraham's ancestor, Eber, mentioned in Genesis 10:21. The name is believed to be based on the Semitic root ʕ-b-r (עבר) meaning "beyond", "other side", "across";[19] interpretations of the term "Hebrew" generally render its meaning as roughly "from the other side [of the rivedesert]"—
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Hebrew
Ebraucus:
Now according to Welsh, Scottish and Irish tradition, Ebraucus (Gaelic word) from 1050 BC was a king of Albany.
Ebraucus
Ebraucus (Welsh: Efrawg/Efrog) was a legendary king of the Britons), as recounted by Geoffrey of Monmouth. He was the son of King Mempricius before he abandoned the family.
York:
He is attributed to having founded Eboracum (York).
Ebraucus
He founded two settlements: Kaerebrauc, the City of Ebraucus (Eboracum), north of the Humber (this later became York, whose Welsh name is Efrog); and Alclud in Albany
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Constantine after conquering Eboracum
Eboracum:
And York was indeed known as Eboracum during pre-roman times.
Eboracum
Eboracum (Latin /ebo'rakum/, English /iːˈbɒrəkəm/ or /ˌiːbɔːˈrɑːkəm/)[1] was a fort and later a city in the Roman province of Britannia. In its prime it was the largest town in northern Britain and a provincial capital. The site remained occupied after the decline of the Western Roman Empire and ultimately evolved into the present-day city York, occupying the same site in North Yorkshire, England.
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Skeleton found in stone coffin in York
Harp:
Now, the sea of Galilee is known as "the harp", due to it's shape.
Etymology
The region in turn gave rise to the English name for the "Sea of Galilee" referred to as such in many languages including ancient Arabic. In the Hebrew language, the lake is referred to as Kinneret (Numbers 34:11, etc.), from Hebrew kinnor ('harp', describing its shape);
Link for photo
Harp
Hibernian:
Now it is not impossible that a king in Gaul, could be related to a king in Galilee.
Particularly as Goolish and Hibernian looking peoples are known to have acquired the highest positions of Ancient egypt dating back to 3000 BC.
Mereruka
Mereruka served during the Sixth Dynasty of Egypt as one of Egypt's most powerful officials at a time when the influence of local state noblemen was increasing in wealth and power. Mereruka held numerous titles along with that of Vizier), which made him the most powerful person in Egypt after the king himself.[1]
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Mereruka
Eber finn:
Oh, and i almost forgot Eber finn from Irish tradition.
He was a Gaelic Irish high king from 1287 BC.
Eber finn
Éber Finn (modern spelling: Éibhear Fionn), son of Míl Espáine, was, according to medieval Irish legend and historical tradition, a High King of Ireland and one of the founders of the Milesian) lineage, to which medieval genealogists traced all the important Gaelic royal lines.
Geoffrey Keating dates his reign to 1287 BC,[3]
Link for photo
High king of Ireland
submitted by StevenStevens43 to AhrensburgCulture [link] [comments]


2020.09.22 16:50 ValleyOfLight My (30M) wife (30F) and I have changed a lot. I want us to last but need guidance as how to move forward.

(warning: this may drag a little but I feel its very crucial. If you wish to skip some, go to the paragraph marked** ) To paint the picture: When we began dating 10 years ago (age 20) we really enjoyed each others company and thinking back on it we were both a bit different back then, especially myself. At that time I was at the beginning stages of being brainwashed by a "cult like" church that prayed on my inability to come to grips with my fathers death at age 14. I had a very hard time coming to grips with his death because it was at such a crucial time in my life so I fell into drugs and escapism that were very unhealthy for me. So a few years into this deep slide into the world of drugs a friend of mine (25M) brought me into this church. At first it seemed to be a very positive environment so I clung onto that positivity and became very preachy about my new found escape our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. I just knew that everybody that ever wronged me would burn in hell forever and I would be washed clean of all my sins and would be saved! So anyway I was a happy camper needless to say and on top of that I had lost touch with everything that I ever was prior to my involvement with this church. So i was a happy guy who didn't really know who he was and I was in love with this girl who was a pure at heart, Irish catholic raised, bubbly vibrant soul. (Btw my wife was never into any of my churches malarky, she could see through it but for some reason stayed with me)
Fast forward 3 years later. We decided that we would find an apartment together. Excited, I shared this news with my friend, who congratulated me, and my pastors, who were reluctant to share any sort of reaction. The following Sunday at church as I walked over to my guitar (i was in the worship band) I was pulled aside by, I'll call her pastor B, and she told me that her husband, pastor T, wanted to talk with me. I met him in the other room, where he told me that I could no longer be in the worship band because he and pastor B prayed on it and God told them that if I was moving in with my gf that I was on a decent into perversion or some nonsense like that. So I walked back into the hall and told my gf we were leaving. She was happy to leave and I was confused and angry. Over the next couple years we went to a few different churches but mentally I was beginning to check out of the church scene. Everything between me and her was still going very well at that time, we were happy with each other.
**At age 25 we got married at a more traditional Lutheran church that we had been attending for a few months but after the wedding I had decided I was done going to churches. Over the next couple years I completely lost my christian complex (not a knock on believers) and rediscovered who I was before I had been manipulated. I am now who I should have been before I met my wife, without the depression and hard drug usage and drinking. My wife has seen me change, and I think it has really started to change her. Like I mentioned before, she was a bubbly vibrant soul, and now there are only shades of that left in her. The bubbly part appears occasionally but she isn't the vibrant girl I remember when we met. I have my suspicions of why that is and I think that it is weight related, self esteem, sex appeal issues. When I was in my christian heyday, sexiness or provocativeness was the last thing on my radar and my wife never had much sex appeal what soever. She was a virgin when we met, and when she lost it to me a couple years into us dating it was not a good experience for her (I was well experienced from my drug years and wasn't aware of how to treat a first timer, and I believe she had body dysmorphia from how she was raised). She began gaining weight rapidly because of our clunky sexual encounters and over time I became un-attracted to her physically. I still think shes beautiful but her weight became an issue and I think it shows with me (im not super touchy with her and have been reluctant to sleep with her at times). So now my non sexy, overweight wife has really bad self esteem issues (in know some of this is definitely on me). I try to be encouraging to her and I show her that I lover her all of the time but for some reason I suspect that she thinks at any time I may leave her because we don't have a strong sexual relationship. I'm trying VERY hard to assist her in getting her confidence back.
She knows that I want a fun, healthy, vibrant, sexual wife just from different talks we've had over the years. She has even said herself that she see's my point of view and that she wants to get back in shape and be healthy for me and our 2 1/2 year old daughter so that she can be a beacon of good health for her. Also she recognizes that she isn't her bubbly self anymore and it has to do with her self esteem. This has been out there for a while now and i'm only seeing minimal progress every year. I know shes trying but it's at a snails pace so sometimes I wonder if maybe I'm not worth it for her. When she had our daughter a couple years ago it did set back some progress that took her and i months to dig her out of. I know she loves me and I love her but it's mostly personality, which is fine, but I need a woman who is confident in herself, that feels and knows shes sexy, that takes pride in her health/appearance and has that vibrant fire that i know she has hidden in her. This is stuff that was seemingly unimportant to me when we first met, which is where the problem lies because i'm not who i was when i met her and these are characteristics that i would have wanted from a woman if i were single and on the market. I love her and our beautiful daughter and i don't want to give up like my parents did (which is a huge battle for me). I just need some guidance. Is this worth staying in? Who knows how long, if ever, my wife gets back to her bubbly self that she once was (which is more so the most important thing). I don't want to give up and I don't want that to mean that someday we are just unhappy which is just as bad or worse for our daughter in the long run.
In short
submitted by ValleyOfLight to relationship_advice [link] [comments]


2020.09.22 07:33 CurvyDaisy "Grew up in a Predominantly White Area" used as Cop-out for White Worship and Self Hatred. Share your Thoughts.

Being Pro-Muslim never ever meant being Pro-Terrorist. But for a long time, in many parts of the world, Being Pro-Muslim did NOT INCLUDE being Anti-Terrorist. A fluid distinction that caused many Wars and cost countless lives.
An extreme example? Perhaps, but it is relevant here.
Being Pro-IR relationships (involving White Partners) never ever meant being Pro-Self Hatred for minority partner. But as a community we must ensure that being Pro-IR relationships INCLUDES being Anti-Self Hatred. If we don't make this a clear and well defined requirement, we can end up with a lot of toxicity and emotional abuse hiding under the Umbrella of IR relationships. Example
In my daily sphere of observance, which is neither total nor absolute, I've discovered a small pattern. Minority identifying people using the phrase, "I grew up in a predominantly white neighborhood" as an excuse to harbor White Supremacist and Self hating ideals.
If a black boy wants to learn Irish River Dancing or if a Thai boy wants to learn German slap dancing, and the reason they took up these pursuits was because "they grew up in a predominately white area" more power to them. Those are positive things that encourage their cultural open-mindedness. I have no problem with that.
However, when "having grown up in a white area" is used as justification for a Chinese girl to refuse dating Chinese boys, or for a Black girl to refuse dating a Black boy, then it becomes cover for Self hatred and white worship, or more broadly Racism.
What are your thoughts on this? Have you met such people?
This post was prompted by this, which happened right here on this Subreddit, yesterday.
submitted by CurvyDaisy to interracialdating [link] [comments]


2020.09.22 02:42 CoryTheK Booking John Cenas Heel Turn PT1

Date is February 25th 2019
Roman Reigns has just returned from his long battle of cancer. He goes out to the ring like he did in real life and cuts a promo saying hes missed the WWE and all of the Fans aswell! And he says that he is ready to take back the Championship he never lossed, the WWE Universal Championship! As the fans cheer him on, a face we haven't seen in a long time JOHN CENA Makes his way out to the ring! He congratulates Roman and talks about how he over came the Odds and beat cancers A*S! He then hugged Roman but as soon as Roman turned his back, John hit him from behind and started to beat the living daylights out of him! He throws Roman into the steps then Attitude Adjustments Roman onto them! The fans are shocked confused and disgusted all at the same time. They can't believe that John Cena, a guy whos inspired so many kids to never give up and to always display a positive attitude would do something that messed up to a guy who just came out of cancer treatment.
*Next Monday\*
John Cena goes out to the ring with a new theme, new attire and a new attitude. As most of the time we are used to the arenas being Half, both the kids who support John chanting "lets go Cena" And the more grown fans chanting "Cena Sucks" This show we just have a full crowd of fans just straight up booing and chanting Cena Sucks! John goes out to the ring and cuts a promo saying this... "You all seriously want an explanation? You all are really surprised of what happened last week? You ugly disgusting wrestling nerds really need an explanation? Well in that case ill give you spoiled brat kids one. For 17 Years I have been in this business and ever since I stepped foot between those ropes I have always been the hardest working son a b*tch there ever was! I won Championship after Championship, I made a name after a name yet something was holding me back and I always wondered what that was and I have finally realized it all along.... it was you. YOU PEOPLE WHO I GAVE FALSE INFORMATION TO, AND TOLD IF YOU "PUT IN THE HARD WORK, IF YOU NEVER GIVE UP, YOULL SUCCEED AND BE A WINNER" But the truth is, I lied. Because no matter how hard you fat wrestling Marks in the crowd work you'll always be losers working some desk job or cleaning toilets for 12 bucks an hour." *John would receive major Booing* What happened guys? You used to look up to me you used to cheer me but what happened? DID YOU GET BORED OF YOUR BEST TOY? HUH? YOU ALL SHUT THE BOOK ON ME! YOU CLOSED THE BOOK ON ME FOR GUYS LIKE SETH ROLLINS GUYS LIKE DOLPH ZIGGLER GUYS LIKE BRAUN STROWMAN OR EVEN GUYS LIKE ROMAN REIGNS!?!?!?! The only way to truly succeed in life, is to either be me or face me, everything else is bogus. So what did we learn out of all this? I will tell you.... Screw your hustle screw your Loyalty and DIS-RES-PECT!
Just as Cena was about to leave, HEATH SLATER Comes out to the ring and says this. "Listen John, me and you go wayyyyyy back. I have known you for 15 years. And I have to say what you did to Roman last week was borderline disgusting! How could you do that to a man who fought for his life on his own death bed how could you do that to all these fans who have loved supported and looked up to you for the past 17 YEARS YOU HAVE BEEN IN THIS COMPANY!? Listen, I may not be as big of a name as you are around here, But I can guarantee you I'm as tough as you! You say "working hard gets you nowhere" Well Damnit I got 2 beautiful girls at home and a wife that I work my a*s off for and I can tell you that in every way it is paying off so I challenge you to a 1 on 1 match in tonight's main event to put your little theory to the test. Cena would then say "You know what, you got kids? Well consider this their food for a month cause I'm about to double your check! Heath Slater vs John Cena would then be booked for the Main Event.
*Main Event Time*Its the Main Event and Heath Slater is looking to pull of an upset win against 16x Champion John Cena. The match starts off with Heath coming right out of the gate and going right after Cena! He gives Cena everything hes got throwing Punches, Kicks and elbows! He irish whips Cena into the ropes and attempts a clothesline but Cena ducks under and hits a flying clothesline of his own! He would then pick up Slater and body slam him on the ground then go for the pin 1.... 2.... KICKOUT! He would pick slater up and deliver brutal knees to the torso of Slater! He would then pick up up and go for the Attitude Adjustment but Slater would counter it into a DDT! He would then go up to the top of the rope and dive right off of it onto Cena! Little did he know, he hit the ref and knocked him out cold on the way down! He would hit the Millers Crossing on Cena and go for the pin, Slater had the match won but with his luck the ref was out cold and couldn't make the pin happen. Slater all sad and angry attempts his finisher again but little did he know, Cena had BRASS KNUCKLES IN HIS POCKET! While the ref was still down, Slater would go for the Millers Crossing but Cena would KNOCK HIM OUT COLD WITH THE BRASS KNUCKS! He then hit the AA and with Slaters luck the ref got up in time to make the count 1... 2... 3! John Cena picks up the victory over Heath Slater.

With Roman Reigns being cleared to return next Monday to respond to the attack of John Cena the hype is real! What will happen in PT2? Well have to wait and see.
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2020.09.22 01:17 StevenStevens43 The Fidchell board

The Fidchell board
Crimthann Nia Nair:
Crimthann Nia Nair was an Irish high king that reigned during the period 12 BC- 5 AD according to Irish legend.
Crimthann Nia Nair
Crimthann Nia Náir (nephew of Nár), son of Lugaid Riab nDerg, was, according to medieval Irish legend and historical tradition, a High King of Ireland. Lugaid is said to have fathered him on his own mother, Clothru, daughter of Eochu Feidlech.[1]
The chronology of Keating's Foras Feasa ar Éirinn dates his reign to 12 BC – AD 5
Voyage:
Now, Crimthann Nia Nair is said to have accompanied his aunt on a voyage, to an untold land.
Crimthann Nia Nair
He is said to have gone on a voyage with his aunt Nár, a fairy woman, for a month and a fortnight, and returned with treasures including a gilded chariot, a golden fidchell board, a gold-embroidered cloak, a sword inlaid with gold serpents, a silver-embossed shield, a spear and a sling) which never missed their mark, and two greyhounds with a silver chain between them.
Fidchell:
However, a clue to where they went, could be in the fidchell board they brought back with them.
And the land was likely Wales, where the game was known as gwyddbwyll.
It is said to be one of the ancestrors of the modern game of chess.
Fidchell
Fidchell (in Irish; also spelled fidhcheall, fidceall, fitchneal or fithchill, and pronounced [ˈfɪðʲçɛlː] in Old Irish) or gwyddbwyll (in Welsh, pronounced [ˈɡwɨ̞ðbʊɨ̯ɬ, ˈɡwɪðbʊi̯ɬ]) was an ancient Celtic board game. The name in both Irish and Welsh is a compound translating to "wood sense"; the fact that the compound is identical in both languages demonstrates that the name is of extreme antiquity.[1] The game is occasionally claimed to be a predecessor of the modern game chess.[2]
Fidchell
Fidchell
Eochu Airem:
However, the earliest attestation for this board game that i can find from legends, does in fact come from Irish legend, when in the period 82 BC - 70 BC Irish high king Eochu Airem was challenged to a game of Fidchell by Midir.
Eochu Airem
The chronology of Geoffrey Keating's Foras Feasa ar Éirinn dates his reign to 82–70 BC,[3]
Later, after Ailill has fully recovered and Eochu has returned home, Midir comes to Tara and challenges Eochu to play fidchell, an ancient Irish board game
Ludus latrunculorum:
Now of course, the Roman republic was well underway by the period of 82 BC, and the game of Fidchell was of course, likely derived from the Roman game Ludus latrunculorum.
History
.[3] The Roman board game ludus latrunculorum ("game of little soldiers") was also played with pieces of equal numbers; latrunculi is known from post-Roman Britain, and it is possible that fidchell was a descendant of latrunculi.
Link for photo
Ludus latrunculorum
Seega:
However, the roots of the game come from Ancient egypt, with a game named, Seega.
History
The game of latrunculi is believed to be a variant of earlier Greek games known variously as Petteia, pessoí, psêphoi, poleis and pente grammaí, to which references are found as early as Homer's time.[1] In Plato's Republic), Socrates' opponents are compared to “bad Petteia players, who are finally cornered and made unable to move.” In the Phaedrus), Plato writes that these games come from Egypt, and a draughts-like game called Seega is known to have been played in ancient Egypt.
Link for photo
Ancient egypt
Khufu:
Now many people of varying ethnicities have reigned supreme during the 3,500 years of pharoah, including Khufu.
Khufu
Khufu (/ˈkuːfuː/, full name Khnum Khufu /ˈknuːm ˈkuːfuː/, known to the ancient Greeks as Cheops) was an ancient Egyptian monarch who was the second pharaoh of the Fourth Dynasty, in the first half of the Old Kingdom period (26th century BC).
Link for photo.jpg)
Khufu
Pepi I:
And also Pepi I.
Pepi I
Pepi I Meryre (also Pepy I) was an Ancient Egyptian pharaoh, third king of the Sixth Dynasty of Egypt, ruling for circa 50 years during the second half of the 24th century BC, toward the end of the Old Kingdom period.
Link for photo
Pepi I
Mereruka:
And of course, Mereruka.
Mereruka served during the Sixth Dynasty of Egypt as one of Egypt's most powerful officials at a time when the influence of local state noblemen was increasing in wealth and power. Mereruka held numerous titles along with that of Vizier), which made him the most powerful person in Egypt after the king himself.[1]
Link for photo
Mereruka
Chess:
Now "apparently" chess is actually derived from the Indian game chaturango, in the 7th Century and did not reach europe until the Muslim conquest of Spain.
Chess
Chess is a two-player strategy board game played on a checkered board with 64 squares arranged in an 8×8 square grid. Played by millions of people worldwide, chess is believed to be derived from the Indian game chaturanga sometime before the 7th century. Chaturanga is also the likely ancestor of the East Asian strategy games xiangqi (Chinese chess), janggi (Korean chess), and shogi (Japanese chess). Chess reached Europe via Persia and Arabia by the 9th century, due to the Umayyad conquest of Hispania.
Link for photo
Chess
Summary:
Now whilst Seega, could have been the brainchild of any number of ethnicities in Ancient egypt, or even evolved with the participation of all ethnicities, it certainly is not true that "Chess" has it's roots from the Indian game "Chaturanga" in the 7th Century.
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2020.09.21 16:00 Angel466 [Bob the hobo] A Celestial Wars Spin-Off Part 0167

PART ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY-SEVEN
Angelo had never been a religious man. In his old neighbourhood, religious belief was like the Irish’s Catholic/Protestant line. Everyone was poor, and while most of the worn-down apartments had some manner of Crucifix or Virgin Mary displayed somewhere prominent, he always thought if he ever met God, he’d punch him in the nose for allowing people to live in such poverty.
His nonna believed in him, but she’d been old. She always used to say God had a plan, and it took everything Angelo and his two older brothers had to not roll their eyes at her. Mainly because like them, Nonna was Italian, and she could still bring the three of them into line with a look. Their mother was a crackhead who paid for her fixes on her back and knees right up until the day she died.
Angelo had been two when that happened.
And in that regard, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree where he was concerned. Not so with his brothers. Rocco was the oldest. Built like a linebacker, he was the one that kept the ugliness of the street away from their front door. There was fourteen years difference between him and Rocco, so as a kid, he hadn’t realised the reason he seemed to have an invisible barrier around him where trouble was concerned, was because his big brother had made a name for himself on the street as a professional leg-breaker (amongst other things). One who believed very much in killing the messenger.
Angelo had been nine when Rocco was finally put away for six counts of murder in the first degree. Twenty-five to life for each to be served consecutively because he refused to drop the dime on his boss. “Don’t ever be a rat, Angie,” Rocco had always said, whenever Nonna took Angelo to visit him in Attica. “Your name is all you had coming into this world, and it’s all you’ll have going out.”
Guess I should’ve listened, he mused to himself.
His name had been stripped from him in the last year. He went from being someone to being a common household appliance.
Gianni was seventeen when Rocco went away and died six months later trying to fill Rocco’s shoes. He was found in an alleyway with his throat slit, and no one gave a damn. No one, except him and Nonna. ( ... and Rocco. Word was, he went on a murderous rampage that got him locked in solitary confinement and another four years added to his a hundred and fifty year sentence.)
Nonna held it together for Angelo. He knew it, but he also knew he couldn’t stay in that neighbourhood. At first, he begged his grandmother to move into another suburb where they could start over, but she had adamantly refused. “My Dante, Gianni and Carina are all buried here, Angelo. If I leave, I will not be able to visit them every day, and they will get lonely.”
As it so happened (and Angelo still carried a lot of guilt over this) Nonna never lived to see the Christmas after he left home. They said she had a heart attack, but to this day, Angelo believed it was more from a broken heart. She’d had no one left in the world but him, and he’d moved away.
After burying her alongside Nonno, Angelo only came to their graves on New Year’s Eve. Every year. He’d sit at the foot of his mother's grave where he could see Nonna and Gianni's gravestones and tell them both about what he’d been up to that year. As he spoke, he would toast to all their memories over a full bottle of amaretto. (For the ladies, he’d bring flowers. His brother would be given his share of the amaretto directly from the bottle.) Then, to wipe the slate clean, he would go out and tie one on for New Years and start the cycle again at the end of the following year. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat.
All except last year. Last year, he’d been working for Tony, and he didn’t get time off. Which in a way, was a blessing. He didn’t want to face the ghosts of his family after what he’d become.
Now, it looked like he was on his way to meet them anyway.
He knew what the tunnel of light represented. He was Italian. Of course, he knew. If anything, he was surprised to be heading in this direction. Not that he’d broken any of the ten commandments (that he knew of), but his lifestyle even before his enslavement hadn’t exactly been sterling.
As the light grew closer, he heard their harmonised voices. The light was too bright to see through, but he heard their welcoming tones.
Then, he drew slowly to a halt. The light didn’t fade, nor did it get any closer. “You are loved.” The masculine voice washed over him, somehow cocooning him in the strength of his words like a comforter. “However My Nephew still needs you, my son.”
And just like that, the tunnel, the light and all the voices vanished, and Angelo was thrust back into a world of pain.
He couldn’t breathe. It hurt to try. Like his lungs were on fire, but filling up with water at the same time. Someone was wiping his face with something cold and wet, and just when he didn’t think he could fight anymore, his lungs spasmed as if punched and another mouthful of fluids rushed to the back of his throat and poured out of his open mouth. Someone had their hand pressed into his forehead, holding his head at an uncomfortable angle, but somehow it made the fluid fall more easily from his lips.
“That’s it, buddy,” he heard Robbie say. “Get that spit out of your lungs.”
“Here,” he heard Lucas add, and the wet cloth was gently reapplied to his face. “My God, man. Look at me,” he commanded, still wiping the cloth around Angelo’s face.
I can’t! I can’t see!
“Don’t you let them win, Angie! You hang on!”
Another shiver. Another cough. Another mouthful of fluid fell out of his mouth. “Stay with us, man.”
I don’t think I have a choice, Angelo thought weakly.
The next few minutes were a blur as new voices sounded around him. Someone requested the fire brigade, which made him want to laugh. Was the building on fire on top of everything else? He saw a meme once of a town being flooded except for one house that was fully ablaze, with the caption, “Proof that things can always get worse”. Lately, that had been his motto, even though he couldn’t picture how.
Still on his side, he felt something slide between his teeth and bump against his throat, but his gag-reflex hadn’t existed in years and if anything, the pulsed suction that followed felt weird. Like he was throwing up … from his lungs.
In the gaps between the suction, he felt the cold touch of oxygen, that his lungs scrambled to get more of. From behind, he heard a ripping sound and his back suddenly goosebumped at the cold bite of air-conditioned air that went on to include his arms.
At first, he wanted to be annoyed about the destruction of his sweatshirt, until he remembered they belonged to the hospital and that he’d helped himself to it after escaping his room. Oh, shit! Did that constitute stealing? It did. It so did. But he did that before going into the light tunnel, so maybe that meant it didn’t count?
As he pondered this, he felt someone pushing something small and sticky against his chest. Then another … and another. All while the suction in his throat continued. By the end of it, he thought he felt at least half a dozen tiny things sticking to his chest, and even more on his arms and feet. And that didn’t count the two bigger ones the size of his palms. He was beginning to feel like a damned sticky noticeboard.
He didn’t even flinch as the large bore needle slid into his left arm and something forced its way into his veins. If anything, he wanted to mock them for using an alcohol swab first. Prissies, he wanted to say. No self-respecting drug addict used swabs before shooting up.
Only, he wasn’t a drug addict anymore. The weeks he’d been at the hospital had emptied most of his system, and no one seemed in a hurry to give him more. Not even sedatives. Lucas had tried to stop the doc from administering the sedative in case it worked against anything residual in his system, but the doc had over-ridden him and given him the shot.
Maybe Lucas should be a doctor. Maybe in a former life, he was.
Angelo had no interest in getting back onto the shit Tony had him on. God, no. That stuff was too much, even for him. But once this was all over, he was pretty sure he could handle the lesser stuff that he’d been on in his days before Tony. Things like special k or dust or maybe even a little bit of cotton candy from time to time if he was having enough fun.
Orrrrrr….
Maybe he should see this as a giant fucking wakeup call and walk away from that life for good. That would certainly please Robbie, but taking fun by the horns and running with it as hard as he could was all he’d ever done since he left high school. Even before Tony, he’d used sex to pay for his partying lifestyle. He knew he wasn’t a ripped pretty boy like Robbie, but he could hold his own in a lineup, and the money was good.
Something else flooded his vein, which slowed the heavy pounding of his heart and brought his whole body into a state of relaxation. Dang … now that stuff I could use by the truckload, he thought hazily to himself.
He was then rolled onto his back. However, he didn’t feel the soft mattress roll that he’d been lying on. No, this was hard. Really hard. And it suddenly dawned on him that he still couldn’t see. Everything had different depths ranging from red to black, no matter where he looked.
The suction tube was pulled back into the mouth and a larger, breathing tube inserted. “He has no gag reflex,” he heard Robbie say, and he almost wanted to puff his chest in pride.
Damn right, I don’t.
He felt himself being lifted and carried feet first from the room.
“We’ll be right behind you, buddy!” he heard Robbie call.
Instead of calming him, that actually had him panicking. Where am I going that Robbie can’t come with me?
But he just couldn’t make himself move to find out.
He heard people barking orders and thought maybe he caught a glimpse of a bright light here and there through the red. For a few seconds, he thought he tasted the glorious smoggy air of New York City, and then he was enclosed in a small space that had a pair of doors banging around his feet.
Then the sirens started up. Oh, no…
The last place he ever wanted to go back to.
The hospital.
Well … crap.
* * *

PART ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY-EIGHT

((AUTHOR'S NOTE: I reached out to a fantastically wonderful person for details on how EMTs would handle this scene, and in what order things would happen. Many, many, MANY huge thanks to that anonymous NREMT for giving me the information I needed to make this as realistic as it was))
Previous Part 166
((All comments welcome))
I made a family tree/diagram of the Mystallian family that can be found here
For more of my work including previous parts or WPs: Angel466 or indexed here
FULL INDEX OF BOB THE HOBO TO DATE CAN BE FOUND HERE!!
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2020.09.21 15:29 SabatonBabylon The HEL Jumper [Chapter 3.27]

Book 1 of The HEL Jumper
Book 2 of The HEL Jumper
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Previous First Next Patreon
Thanks to Big_Papa_Dakky, Darth_Android, bloblob, AMERICUH, The_Real_Jumper, Mr_Polygon, Krystalin, Damned_Thrice, Mamish, Vikairious, Sam_Berry, RedHawkdude, KillTech, LilLaussa, Daddy_Talon, Gruecifer, Gaelan_Darkwater, Konrahd_Verdammt, red-shirt, DaPorkchop, Benjamin Durbin, and everyone supporting me on patreon.
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“Knock knock, anyone home?” Alice called, rapping politely against the door frame of Sentaura’s dwelling. Compared to anything on Earth it was modest, but it was easily one of the nicer homes in the village. She didn’t mind, however. Antoth had apologized profusely several times since placing Alice in her now cozy little blockhouse, and she’d waved him off each time for good measure.
It helped that new furnishings and technology from the Event Horizon showed up almost daily with Pilot Cromwell. She had a desk and lamp, a second sleeping pad and pillow, a laptop for recording her notes and working with photographic documentation of Cauthan life, and a digital picture frame that alternated between a photograph of her family and one of her and Russell with Veera, Lachlan, Xan, Asha, and Zolta. In short, the idea of Lachlan staying at a ‘nicer’ residence than hers was a moot point. Instead she saw it as a testament to Ratha’s influence and the kindness of the village at large. The man in question poked his head out of the bedroom as Sentaura and her son prepared breakfast.
“Good mornin’, lassie! What brings ya ta this neck o’ the woods?”
“The amazing cooking, of course. It smells wonderful in here,” Alice replied, earning an approving glance from the matron of the family. She waved her in, a cooking spoon in hand.
“Please, no need to wait outside in the streets. Do you have need of Lachlan today?”
“I sense she was lookin’ fer a bite,” the Marine jested, prompting Alice to reach into her satchel and withdraw two ration bars and wave them in his face.
“I am perfectly capable of feeding myself, Lachlan,” she declared proudly, earning a confused look from him.
“If that’s yer wish I ain’t gonna stop ya. So what’s going on, Alice?” he asked, wiping a bit of sleep from his eyes. Sentaura rose and began her labors at the crack of dawn every day, and apparently Alice was capable of such a thing as well. Her reply was interrupted as Ursol latched onto Lachlan’s leg and proceeded to hide from Alice behind him. “Now what’s gotten into you, fluffy lad? It’s just Alice! You were grabbin’ her hair the first time you two met. Now go say good mornin’ nice and polite, would ya?”
“Do as Uncle Lachlan says, Ursol,” his mother commanded, now busy peeling dato with a simple knife. Alice meanwhile was looking quite surprised and excited at how Sentaura had referred to her houseguest. As though suddenly struck by the memory that Alice was, indeed, a human he’d interacted with before, minus the different clothing and the fact her hair was done up in a bun that day, the little furball toddled over to her and waved.
“Morning!”
“Selah and good morning to you!” Alice replied, her pitch rising as she ribbed her friend after greeting the young Cauthan. “So Uncle Lachlan, huh? Super cute. I might start using it. How are you, Ursol?”
“I’m good! Are you going to play with me today?” he asked, prompting Alice to pick him up as Sentaura sighed and shook her head.
“You humans pamper him.” She didn’t seem upset about that fact.
“That could be arranged,” Alice considered, happy that she’d done her hair up that morning. Ursol didn’t explicitly go after it, but much like a human child he was very hands-on. There was no need to present him with extra targets. He settled down soon though, looking around curiously from his new vantage point. “There you go, I’m not going to drop you. So, what’s up Lachlan?”
The Marine cocked his brow at her with an exasperated smile. “I was asking ya the same question, lassie. What brings you over here today?”
“First day on our own,” Alice laughed. “Natori and the Event Horizon are gone, my brother and Veera are off at the other site. Just you and me for a couple days! Figured I’d come by and say hi. But yeah, there is something I need to talk to you about.”
“Oh I don’t like that phrase,” Lachlan replied cautiously. “When a lass says we need to talk, that ne’er ends well.”
“Oh stop it you! We aren’t even dating. And it’s got nothing to do with you and me, well not directly anyway,” she clarified.
“If it is not a secret for human ears only, perhaps you could discuss it over breakfast,” Sentaura suggested.
“Oh that’s so nice of you, but I wouldn’t want to impose. There’s only so much food and all,” Alice demurred. Sentaura waved her off.
“Nonsense. You can have some of Lachlan’s portion and then share your human food with him later if he’s still hungry. Ursol, go fetch some water for us. No complaints if you want to play today.”
Alice set the young boy down, allowing him to pick up an empty bucket and toddle off out the door. “Will he be alright?” she wondered.
“If he is not, he will be punished later,” Sentaura clarified easily. “Breakfast will be ready soon, but please do not let me keep you from your necessary conversation.”
Lachlan gestured to one of the chairs in the room but Alice waved him off, depositing her bag by the door instead and leaning against the wall. “I’m fine, Lachlan. Did Natori tell you before he left?”
“Tell me what? What’s the Admiral up to now?” MacGregor demanded uneasily as he and Alice both couldn’t help a bit of a smirk. Natori was just such a man.
“This time? Nothing, believe it or not, but I had assumed he would at least have told you before leaving. It’s actually about something Gentia said when we were explaining where Thantis would be going.”
“I think I’ve had quite enough of ya beatin’ around the bush, lassie. What did the head mum have to say?” he pressed. At the mention of Gentia’s name, Sentaura’s ears perked up as well, though she made a point of looking busy around the cooking fire. There was still plenty to do.
“Well, it’s kind of crazy,” Alice admitted, reaching for a strand of her hair to play with that proved elusive. “You know that little cub Ketra, the one who lost her parents last year?”
“Aye.”
“Yeah so, she said she wants Ketra to be raised or adopted by humans.” Alice fell silent as Lachlan stared quietly at her, letting the ambient sounds of the cooking fire fill the space again. Sentaura was shaking her feathers.
“Perhaps her age is finally getting to her,” she murmured, more perplexed than anything.
“Not to risk offendin’ a high priest, but that does sound a bit… off?” Lachlan tried. Alice furrowed her brows at him and squared her shoulders against the wooden wall behind her.
“She wants Ketra to have a better life. What’s wrong with that? We should be thrilled that her experience with humanity has been so positive!”
“Nothin’s wrong with it, of course,” Lachlan acknowledged. “But ya don’t think it would be a bit odd for Ketra ta grow up and eventually start askin’ why no one looks like her?”
“Of course I know it would be odd, but I think we should still do it if everyone agrees. No one says we need to hide Ketra from her heritage even if she’s raised like a human child. Xan proposed that a Cauthan be involved, probably a woman since Ketra is a girl too. I think it’s a splendid idea,” Alice reasoned. It was the Scotsman’s turn to frown.
“How about we take a few steps back, Alice. When you say ‘we’, I’m startin’ ta get the idea that-”
“I do think you and I should be candidates,” she confirmed. “That’s why I came to talk with you today. I think we should speak with Gentia without Natori looking over our shoulders. That’s assuming you’re amenable, of course. Please?”
“Hmm, how bold,” Sentaura chuckled lightly, finding some small enjoyment in Lachlan’s flustered demeanor as her son returned from his task, sloshing plenty of water onto the street as he did so. “Thank you, sweetie. Now come help me stir the pot while Uncle Lachlan and Alice have their talk.”
“No that’s quite alright, mum. This conversation is over, I’m thinkin’,” the Marine insisted firmly. “Alice, be reasonable here!”
“This isn’t even my idea! How am I being unreasonable?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. Lachlan let out a bark of laughter.
“Where do ya want me to start, lassie? The bit about goin’ behind Admiral Kaczynski’s back or the bit where you think you or I should be helpin’ to raise an orphan?”
“Oh yes, heaven forbid people like us raise a child. I’m serious, Lachlan!” Alice protested.
“I know ye are, and that’s the problem!” he said firmly, though his tone remained moderate. “Think about it, Alice.”
“Oh really? That’s the line you want to go with? ‘Think about it, Alice’,” she mimicked sarcastically. “It’s literally my job to think about things like this! And you know what I think? I think Natori might do something foolish, like putting Ketra with Gerard and Yvonne Dupuis for starters. I would bet my entire year’s salary he accepts Gentia’s offer and then the question is who? If my brother and Veera turn the offer down, as they have once already, I can’t think of a better idea. Can you? Do you have any other humans in mind who have spent a day living around Cauthan, much less weeks?”
Lachlan paused a moment, rubbing his face as he silently acknowledged Alice’s point on the subject of a particular Admiral and the given circumstances. He glanced back to Sentraura and Ursol, finding them quite enraptured as they stirred a morning stew of vegetables and dato. He smiled at the little cub, whose curious face and eyes could melt even the sternest of hearts. “Alice, what’s wrong with the doctors? They’re experienced parents and Yvonne’s got a degree in infant care among other things, right?”
Alice’s mouth curled slightly as Lachlan moved from denial to bargaining. “Nothing is wrong with Gerard and Yvonne, Lachlan. I have no doubt they’d make exceptional surrogate parents or grandparents. The latter would be better, I think. I’m just saying though, how would you feel if you were raised by aliens and your alien parents were elderly and passed away shortly after you reached maturity? That’s a much different life than being raised by a young couple who, God willing, should be around to guide you until you have your own children and such.”
“I daresay she has been giving this a bit of thought, Lachlan,” Sentaura interrupted with an approving tone. “Please, everyone grab a bowl and eat while it’s hot. I don’t mean to be rude but I’ll not be serving my guests cold stew.”
The pause in conversation was most welcome for the young Marine, and Lachlan insisted that Sentaura take the first bowl herself, followed by Ursol. He then ladled out a portion for himself and Alice, which was more than he might eat on a given morning but certainly less than two humans might consume. Alice rested a hand on his arm and smiled at him, indicating her approval. “Awawa, hot! Mama, it’s hot!” Ursol declared, dropping a steaming piece of dato back into his bowl and splashing a bit on his tunic. Sentaura sighed and wiped him down quickly.
“Ursol, you’re a big boy now. Surely you can blow on your own food to cool it down? And not too hard. If you spill your soup you’ll be in trouble,” she warned. Lachlan pointed his spoon at the little Cauthan, pursed his lips, and demonstrated.
“Nice an’ easy, laddie. Yer mum didn’t work so hard this mornin’ just to have you splashin’ it about now!” Alice watched in fascination as Ursol did just that, blowing lightly on his food before observing it keenly, giving it a sniff, and then taking a nibble. Satisfied that it was of a reasonable temperature, he swiftly took the rest into his mouth only to scrunch up his face in discomfort.
“Still hot!”
Lachlan and Alice laughed lightly, sounds that seemed to make Ursol very pleased with his antics before he busied himself with breakfast again. Sentaura managed a wan smile, and the meal continued without major disturbance. When they concluded, Alice stood and ruffled MacGregor’s hair before handing him one of her ration bars. “Sorry, Mac. I’ll be at the temple if you want to stop by.”
“Momma, she touched his feathers!” Ursol immediately remarked, pointing and bouncing on the balls of his feet as Lachlan looked at the entryway with a mixture of confusion and annoyance on his face. Sentaura smiled genuinely and took her son’s empty bowl.
“Yes, but humans are different from Cauthan, Ursol. We do not touch feathers like that. If you wish to learn how to touch humans correctly, you must speak with Lachlan or Alice or Winters.”
“But the white one is scary,” Ursol murmured. MacGregor watched closely as Sentaura set aside the dirty dinnerware and took her son into her arms, soothing him with a gentle voice.
“Sometimes, my son, you need to be scary to protect the things you love. I am sure Lachlan would be happy to teach you instead.” He nodded an affirmative when she glanced his way.
“Course, mum,” the Marine replied quietly, wondering for the first time what Ursol might or might not have seen on the night of the raid, perhaps when fleeing his burning home. “I’m sorry about Alice. Sometimes she just has these ideas and-”
“It sounds like it was the Mother’s idea, Lachlan, not Alice’s. If she wishes to play a role in such a thing, that is for Gentia to decide. And it is clear she will look to you for support,” Sentaura pointed out, her tone indicating that such things were obvious. She cleaned the fur around Ursol’s muzzle with a few licks of her tongue before turning him over to Lachlan. “Could I trouble you to see him to the temple this morning?”
“Of course, Sentaura,” he agreed easily.
“Uncle Lachlan, hunter games?” Ursol suggested. The Marine laughed and picked him up, placing the young boy on his knee.
“Right after breakfast? You’ll be crampin’ up something awful, laddie,” he warned.
“Nuh-uh!” Ursol insisted pointedly as his mother gathered her effects for another day in the fields as harvest season approached.
“Alright, but don’t blame me if you find yerself losing that breakfast! Let’s go. One lap around the village before school then. Hunters gotta be fast, right?”
“Right!” Ursol cheered, hopping to the ground and running out the door. Sentaura handed him Ursol’s lunch for the day, swishing her tail behind her in contemplation.
“This… may not be my place Lachlan, but you have been a welcome addition to my home and I would ask this question of you.”
“Is that… is that Cauthan for we need ta talk? Because there’s only so much of that a man can take in a day,” he protested lightly. Her eyes narrowed slightly as her expression softened.
“We have not known each other for long, but I would hope that by now you would understand that if we needed to talk I would out and say it. I just wanted to know if there is something wrong with Alice. Is she not fertile? Are her features undesirable?”
The Marine was caught flatfooted. “I don’t get your meanin’, Sentaura.”
“Are you mated to another female then?”
“Oh that’s what this is-” Lachlan rubbed his face with his hands, pulling his moustache downward before running his fingers through his beard. “It’s complicated, Sentaura. An’ even if it weren’t complicated I couldn’t just hop to it without knowin’ I love her.”
The young but world-wise Cauthan blinked twice, cocking her head as she mulled over her question. “How could you know such a thing like love without bringing life into the world with her?”
“Uncle Lachlan, I wanna play!” Ursol popped his head back in the door, is face fraught with childish impatience.
“I should be going, Sentaura. I’ll see ya in the fields later,” Lachlan insisted softly, bowing in thanks for breakfast before grabbing his gear and heading out after Ursol.
“Ah well, Valta only knows no male is perfect,” Sentaura concluded.
-----
“Alice Winters, good morning to you. What brings you to my temple today? Feeling restless with your brother gone?” Gentia asked knowingly, leaving a small gaggle of young Cauthan under the care of several of her acolytes while she went to speak with the human.
“Selah to you, Gentia,” Alice replied formally before easing into the conversation. They sat on a bench nearby, so the acolytes and children alike would know that the head priestess was still watching them learn. “I daresay you must feel the same. Would it be rude to ask how long it was since you spent a night away from Thantis?”
“You remind me of myself when I was young,” the old Cauthan admitted. “Always asking the pointed questions, hmm? I will be frank; it was difficult. We have been constant companions for more years than I can number. All I can pray for is that when the time comes, the Mother and her father see fit to receive us at the same time. I’m sorry, you surely didn’t come here to listen to an old female like me ruminate on life and death.”
“No, but don’t let me stop you. I’m sure I could learn a lot from that sort of chat,” Alice responded politely. Gentia waved her off.
“Bah, how depressing. We will have words if he’s not returned to me soon instead, hmm! Now, what else is on your mind? Your forehead is wrinkled. When your brother does this it usually means he’s frustrated or thinking very hard about something. Is that painful?”
Alice placed her fingers to her lips and giggled. Gentia joined in quietly for just a moment. “No, thankfully it’s not painful. Our faces are like your feathers. We have a great deal of control over the muscles under the skin, and we’re very attuned to one another’s expressions.” To demonstrate, Alice waggled her eyebrows and showed off how much minute control she had over the movement of her lips and mouth.
“You have made your point quite splendidly,” Gentia told her as multiple young Cauthan began trying to imitate her with various degrees of success. “Oh just go on and play, all of you. We will have lessons this afternoon instead.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Alice suddenly adopted a reserved expression as the gathering of cubs immediately scattered laughing and shouting to the far corners of the temple to play. Thankfully, none bolted for the door.
“Oh, them? Think nothing of it, Alice. They’ve been looking for an excuse all morning. Sometimes it is best to give a little and then take. Though I will say Ursol has been instigating disruptions far less than usual over the past cycle. Please give your companion my thanks. I assume it’s on account of him running the boy ragged every day. Meylith bless him.”
“That’s… actually what I wanted to discuss today,” Alice continued, taken aback as Gentia’s eyes began to sparkle in a manner reminiscent of her husband.
“O-ho! You’ve decided to be his mate then? We would be happy to allow you use of this space for your ceremony!” Gentia nodded, quite pleased with herself indeed as Alice spluttered and waved her hands quickly in front of her.
“No no no! That’s not what I meant at all! I was referring to your suggestion to Natori the other day, about Ketra.”
“My condition, you mean?” the Cauthan clarified sharply, looking around her temple and quickly locating the ball of light brown fur. “Of course, let us talk then. Centille, you can leave Ketra with us.”
“Thank you, Gentia,” the younger priestess replied with relief audible in her voice. The little cub was discontented for one reason or another that morning, and was quite indisposed to remaining in Centille’s arms. “I’ll go look after the others.”
“Please bring us a bit of grain and water first, she may be hungry. Then you may go,” Gentia requested. Centille bowed before hurrying off to the granary to comply with her orders while the older female addressed the cub on her lap. “Now what’s gotten your feathers all bent out of shape, little one? Oh, it is your feathers! Well look at you, you’ll be a fine young female with a grand crest one day. All the rowdy little males will be clamoring to be yours.”
Alice watched with great interest as Gentia unsheathed her claws ever so slightly and began running them in one direction from the top of Ketra’s forehead, over top, and all the way down to the base of her neck. The tiny Cauthan let out something of a squeak but settled down shortly as her elder scratched the itch of new feather growth. Gentia rested her cane against the bench and adjusted her hold on the little one before speaking quietly to Alice again. “I will have to teach Centille about this, I suppose. She is wonderful with the older cubs. I am sure that will change when she has her own. Ah, thank you Centille. Just place the bowl here, would you?”
The acolyte left the small amount of food on the bench next to Gentia before bowing and returning to her duties. “She’s so cute,” Alice couldn’t help but whisper, waving her fingers at Ketra who, being pampered, looked ready to doze off for a little snooze instead of continuing to be difficult.
“She’s a handful and a half is what she is,” Gentia said. Alice tittered.
“So that was your plan then? Have the humans raise the difficult child?” she joked, hoping the translation would prove adequate.
“How could you suggest something so very like me?” The priestess feigned shock before pivoting to a quite serious demeanor. “Do you think it is a wise decision?”
“I… a- what?” Alice stammered. “You’re asking me?”
Gentia gazed at her for several seconds as she ordered her thoughts. “If I understand correctly you have spent almost all of your life studying and learning, no? Surely that counts for something. Even I am still subject to fits of passion or flights of fancy. I serve the Mother, but no one says I must always act like her, hmm? Sometimes calling on a bit of Valta or the Twins might be prudent. But it strikes me now that humans wouldn’t know to do what I’m doing. I wonder how many other moments in her life would be subject to the same problem.”
“Well, you could always teach us? I liked Xan’s idea,” Alice admitted, hands in her lap.
“And what happens when you return to your home?” Gentia pointed out.
“Yeah, I know. Part of me wants to say that all mothers have to go through that though, even human ones. We have to learn how to take care of our children on our own, maybe with our own mother’s help. You can know about teething all you like but I’m sure that it’s different when you have your own baby in your arms. That’s when our infants get their first set of teeth, by the way,” she explained.
“Your young are not born with teeth? How do they eat?” Gentia asked.
“They consume food in liquid form exclusively for quite some time and then slowly transition to a solid diet,” Alice explained.
“I can never decide if your people are more similar or different to mine than at first glance,” the priestess mused, humming gently to the cub that was now snoozing in her arms, one stubby paw hanging limp at her side. “But it would appear that question will need to wait for another time, Alice. I have a great duty to fulfill this morning it would seem.”
That duty took the form of none other than the village Huntress, as Ratha stood silently just inside the doorway to the temple. Alice found herself feeling quite nervous under the Cauthan’s scrutiny, as no amount of height disadvantage or pregnant belly seemed capable of dulling Ratha’s sharp, predatory gaze. “Want to have a little fun?” Gentia asked.
“With Ratha? No, I think I’m good,” Alice decided immediately.
“Be that as it may, unless you intend to examine her yourself I would ask you to take this bundle of joy from me, just for now. Should she wake, simply repeat what I was doing to calm her, or soak some grain in water and offer it to her. Gods willing this will not take long, despite the fact that her first visit should have been a season ago,” the priestess said, raising her voice enough so that Ratha would be able to hear her.
“Well I’m here now, Gentia. I can come back later. Human,” came the Huntress’ greeting. Alice’s capacity to respond was replaced by the need to accept a snoozing Ketra from Gentia. She was very careful to ensure the cub’s head remained supported as she cradled the little fuzzball, but the developmental differences between humans and Cauthan seemed to render that consideration a bit less important. If young Cauthan were born with teeth, Alice supposed it wasn’t too much to assume they would be capable of supporting the weight of their own heads much earlier in life.
“No no, far be it from me to impose upon you, Ratha. I just pray you didn’t finally come to us because something is amiss. Thank you, Alice. Call upon any of the acolytes if you have need of them. And no snide comments, my dear,” Gentia insisted of Ratha. “As you can see her feathers are coming in and we just got her to sleep.”
A shiver ran up Alice’s spine from the way Ratha sized her up, but if the Huntress had any thoughts about a human holding one of her village’s orphans, she kept it to herself. So far as Alice knew, Ketra was not the daughter of any of ‘Ratha’s people’. Instead the auburn furred Cauthan strode onward, accompanied by Gentia who immediately launched into what Alice supposed was a standard set of questions for expecting Cauthan mothers. Ratha did not speak a word until they disappeared into the next room over. “Well, that was terrifying,” Alice whispered, looking down at Ketra. “To think she used to look like you one day, long ago. Okay I’m sorry, please don’t wake up! I’ll talk inside my own head.”
To Alice’s relief, Ketra’s sudden movement was nothing more than a sleepy adjustment as the little one snuggled up to her, presumably for warmth. Alice had to bring her free hand to her mouth in an attempt to contain a squeal of delight before whipping her head around as a low voice spoke to her from behind. “Practicin’?”
“Lachlan!” she hissed, gesturing for him to sit next to here. Ursol had just run off to join his fellows, having arrived after his jog around the village. “She just fell asleep and Gentia had to leave.”
The Marine yielded and held his hands up in front of his chest, content to take a moment and join Alice in silent watch over the little one. Though he’d made something of a habit out of it, there was nothing stipulating he had to assist Sentaura in the fields each day. Instead he watched Alice as she rocked her torso gently back and forth, once or twice reaching for her hair before remembering again it was tied tightly behind her head. It was a side of her that he’d not seen before, and Sentaura’s words came back to haunt him. He didn’t know about love, but there was something undeniably compelling about a woman caring for an infant. Given how fluffy the infant in question was, the species barrier was a non-issue in terms of the adorable factor. If anything, it was a plus.
“What was the last time you showered?” Alice suddenly asked. Lachlan groaned and scooched away from her on the bench.
“Look, it’s not like I can get back up ta the ship right now.”
“I know, I’m just teasing,” she assured him quietly. “That’s the real reason we’re not supposed to interact with pre-industrial civilizations. No indoor plumbing. Oh no no no no no! I’m sorry! Please go back to sleep!”
Ketra’s surprise at finding herself in the arms of an alien was more than apparent as her little eyes fluttered open and she evaluated the situation rather than return to slumber. Alice began to panic as Ketra grew restless, squirming around and making adorable but disgruntled noises.
“Ok then, how about some food?” she suggested, taking a piece of Maran grain and dipping it in the water before offering it to the cub. She was not impressed. “No? Oh geez, alright. Is it your feathers? Are they annoying you?”
Lachlan watched in nervous silence as Alice began running her nails, which had last been painted pink so long ago than more than half of the enamel had chipped off, along Ketra’s scalp. More than one of the priestesses of Meylith was watching out of the corner of their eye, but Alice was intent on salvaging the situation and they seemed amenable to allowing her the chance.
“Rock a bye baby, on the tree tops,” Alice began singing. “When the wind blows, the cradle will rock. When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall and… oh my God, why is that even a nursery rhyme?” she whispered as Ketra began to protest her current condition more loudly. “Lachlan, help!”
“What am I supposed ta do?” he demanded.
“You’re so good with Ursol!”
“He’s four! He ain’t an infant. There’s nothin’ alike about-” his protests died as Alice gave him the most overblown puppy eyes he’d ever seen. “Oh by me grandpa’s kilt! Alright, wee one. What’s got ye so bent outta shape? Ketra, stop makin’ life difficult for Alice here.”
When Ketra realized that the alien with the facial fur and deep voice was addressing her, she gave him a moment of her attention. Afraid that it wouldn’t last, he swallowed his embarrassment and tried his hand at singing, though his song was not a nursery rhyme by any means. “Red is the rose, that in yonder garden grows. Fair is the lily of the valley. Clear is the water that flows from the Boyne, but my love is fairer than any.”
Not knowing the rest of the lyrics, he hummed the tune instead, his voice and Alice’s gentle scratching finally working as Ketra ceased attempting to escape from Alice’s grasp. By the time Lachlan made it around to the chorus again, Ketra was accepting individual pieces of grain from Alice’s fingers and chewing them slowly. Her eyes never moved from Lachlan. “Isn’t that an Irish ballad?” Alice whispered as Ketra took her breakfast, finally, in some amount of peace.
“An’ what? I can’t like it cause I’m Scottish?” Lachlan asked. “We both hate the English after all.”
“No no, of course not. I was just surprised,” Alice remarked, tilting her head as she looked at him. “Thank you. You’re really good with them.”
“Perhaps you can teach that song to me sometime,” a low voice suggested from nearby. Alice almost screamed but managed to hold it in, providing Ketra with a bit of amusement. Antoth clearly possessed a bit of Ratha’s stealth. That or the two of them had been far too concerned with the immediate problem to notice him walking up behind them. “Her feathers?”
“Oh, yes Antoth. Good morning to you,” Alice stammered, shifting Ketra so she could activate her translation program. She suddenly felt every bit as self-conscious as she had been around Ratha. “Gentia said to scratch her like that if she woke up, and your wife is over in the other room.”
“Mmm, I’ll have to make note of that as well,” the high priest said, blinking at Ketra who had become quite still in the presence of so many adults. “I hope my cubs are as polite as her when I’m around. So, am I to take this to mean that the two of you were chosen by Natori?”
“Wha- what? No, it’s nothing like that. Natori left on the resupply mission before saying anything about Gentia’s proposal. I just- yes yes sweetie, here’s another piece. Gentle now. There you go,” Alice cooed as Ketra used both of her stubby little paws to move the morsel of food to her mouth. “Sorry Antoth, I just thought it would be a nice thing to do today to come see her. With everyone else gone there isn’t much to do. Is everything fine with Ratha?”
“I hope Gentia will say so,” the black-furred Cauthan replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “You saw her today, I presume? She didn’t say anything untoward?”
“No, she didn’t say anything to me at all, really,” Alice confirmed.
Antoth breathed out a relieved sigh. “That is good. I would not say a bad word about her, but pregnancy is… an interesting challenge.”
“No need ta explain to us, Antoth. We understand,” Lachlan assured him. The Cauthan’s eyes grew a bit wider.
“Oh? I didn’t know you had cubs of your own. Are they aboard your ship?” he asked politely.
“I’m not even married, Antoth. Just saying ya have my sympathies. Pregnancy’s pretty bad on human women too.”
“You’re welcome,” Alice chipped in proudly.
“Fer what? You don’t have any either,” he ribbed her.
“Well on behalf of womankind, you’re welcome anyway. Right, Ketra? We’re the real tough ones. They don’t know what it’s like,” Alice cooed in a high pitched voice. Ketra seemed far more accepting now that the alien had established itself as a source of nourishment and comfort.
“Neither do you,” Lachlan pressed, earning Alice’s finger jabbing into his bicep.
“Well one day I will, mister. And if you’re the daddy you best believe I’ll be reminding you of this regularly!”
Antoth laughed loudly as Lachlan leaned away from Alice as far as he could. She joined in, sticking her tongue out at him. “I continue to insist that once she gets over humans in general, my mate will find you quite agreeable,” Antoth stated as Gentia and Ratha emerged from the ‘maternity ward’ of the temple. “Ratha.”
“Don’t you have something better to be doing than waiting around to see what’s wrong with me?” she demanded.
“No,” he replied firmly. Ratha’s face softened several degrees and she rested her head against his chest where his left arm met his shoulder.
“Good answer, Scarface. Our spawn is just fine,” she informed him. The humans couldn’t help but smile as Antoth’s shoulders sagged with relief.
“The tenderness on the underside of her belly is normal, as is the nausea. There is a possibility the cub may come into the world feet first, but that’s nothing we cannot handle,” Gentia reported before hardening her tone. “Do not wait next time, Huntress. Listen to your body.”
“I know my body better than anyone,” Ratha insisted hotly.
Gentia did not give an inch. “And I know pregnancy better than you ever will.”
“When you never had a cub yourself? Spare me.”
“Ratha, that’s enough!” Antoth stepped in, his voice not quite a shout. She leered at him before stalking proudly from the temple, her hand supporting the bottom of her belly. “You have my apologies, Gentia. I will ensure she returns to do the same.”
“You and I both know such a thing is pointless,” Gentia said tiredly, standing beside him. “She is afraid. Her body is betraying her. It is natural for her to behave this way. Support her as best you can.”
He growled quietly in acceptance. “I do not know what we will do when you go to the Mother’s side, Gentia.”
“One of my very capable assistants will take my place. And unlike me, she will have had cubs of her own. I was not the first, and I will not be the last, Antoth.”
“You have my apologies as well, humans. That was not something for you to see or hear.” He bowed to them all before leaving after his mate. Even Ketra was looking around silently in his wake.
“Way to read the room, wee lassie,” Lachlan congratulated her. Gentia refocused on them with a brightening expression.
“Thank you both. She seems to have taken a liking to this arrangement. Maybe the two of you can make things official at the harvest festival, hmm?” she tittered.
“Why does every Cauthan we know insist we should be gettin’ hitched?!” Lachlan lamented. Gentia poked his stomach with her cane as she explained. A small group of male cubs, including Ursol, ran past them playing what seemed to be tag.
“Because if our youth were like you, still unmated in the prime of their lives, we would die out as surely as Seil rises in the west. Ratha and Antoth are an exception, not the rule.”
Lachlan and Alice stared at one another quietly.
-----
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2020.09.21 14:04 finnagains China is in fact a pragmatic authoritarian oligarchy, not a dictatorship (r/Leftwinger) 21 Sept 2020

As the US presidential debates approach, and our grotesque candidates prepare to compete for Best Actor, with their supporting casts of pollsters, advance men, media shills, gestures coaches, focus groups, and allied technicians of mendacity, Americans of broad historical illiteracy, which is most of them, hear endlessly of the evils of China. Whether the evils exist doesn’t matter. The electorate won’t know the difference. Still, it might be amusing to think about the matter. How bad (as Ivanka would put it) is the Middle Kingston?
Permit me a more sanguine view than those of our leftover Cold Warriors. Let us start with what Beijing has done for its people. We might also find enlightening a comparison of today’s China with today’s America.
I know what China was in 1978 when Deng took over: a literally starving behemoth, among the poorest countries on earth, with people eating grass. Forty-two years later it has lifted several hundreds of millions from poverty, and the remaining poverty would not be recognized as poverty by the slum dwellers of India. Perhaps I err, but this seems to me both astonishing and admirable. No other country, ever, has done such a thing.
Overage Cold War hawks and salesmen for the arms makers like to say that China is “totalitarian,” which sounds appropriately terrible without meaning anything specific. How many people have been in a genuinely totalitarian and Communist country? I was in the Soviet Union when it still was the Soviet Union, and it closely matched John Bolton’s onanistic fantasies: grim, poor, intimidated, no stores or consumer goods, empty streets with cars only for the government, people sullen and dispirited. As we flew out on Aeroflot, people spontaneously broke into applause as we passed the Russian frontier.
This is not China. Walk the streets in Chengdu or Chongqing. Traffic (unfortunately) reaches American levels. You will see stores selling anything you would find in, say, Washington, running from cheap to pricey, large grocery stores tastefully decorated (a Chinese touch) with everything from staples to gourmet food. It is First World. This is fact, boys and girls. It is documentable. Go look. I have. You will also see, at least in Chengdu, many blocks of stores selling Buddhist artefacts, functioning temples well maintained, and monks in the traditional robes. None of this is what we are told to expect. It is what is there.
Restaurants flourish, from soup stalls to elegant, and night life is varied and great fun. (Here a guide to said night life.) There is, for example, an Irish pub, the Shamrock, which we much liked. Large districts exist of what might be called wide car-less alleys with dozens of restaurants with outside tables and typically Chinese gaudy neon everywhere. This is not Steve Bannon’s China.
From Its website: “Shamrock has the best sports telecasts in Chengdu! With five different satellite feeds we have you covered for rugby, football (round ball) Aussie rules, cricket, NBA, golf, tennis, boxing, and UFC. Wondering how to find out more about what telecasts are on? We have our website listing, you can also ADD us on WeChat or alternatively just give us a call or email for more info on what and when telecasts are coming up.”
Conservatives of formidable economic illiteracy speak of China as a communist dictatorship. The government, perhaps not wanting to admit a mistake, calls itself communist. Geriatric hawks make themselves foolish by referring to “Chicoms,” but China is in fact a pragmatic authoritarian oligarchy, not a dictatorship, and communist countries do not have hundreds of thousands of private businesses. You cannot criticize the government and the Great Firewall of China blocks the international internet. Not good, but…totalitarian? Try North Korea.
US commentators speak of China’s intolerance of Christianity. The intolerance exists. But the Chinese have reasons. Remember that Christianity, however heretical, cost China fourteen years of godawful bloody warfare during the Tiaping Rebellion of the 1850's and perhaps millions of dead. It was probably enough Christianity for them. And of course, they can look at the US and see the havoc caused by diversity of religion, race, ethnicity, and so on. They probably figure they don’t need any.
Americans also grouse that fentanyl, which they usually pronounce “fentanol,” comes from China, just as Mexicans complain that the weaponry of the drug cartels comes from the US. True in both cases, but it is a bit of a leap to attribute either to governmental hostility rather than freelance criminality. Regarding drugs, we might remember that China has had bitter experience of Eurowhites. Americans have compelled the Chinese to buy opium by force of arms, though the government desperately opposed this. Maybe turnabout is fair play.
American troops have also occupied Chinese ports by force. American soldiers have rampaged through Beijing, raping, looting, and killing for sport. The Chinese are aware of this. Americans can usually find their way home at night.
People in the US speak of China’s brazen aggressiveness. Chinese aggressiveness? Did China invade Iraq, killing hundreds of thousands? Has China spent almost twenty years butchering Afghans, militarily seized Syria’s oil, supported Saudi Arabia in a murderous war against Yemen, supervised the destruction of Libya, bombed Somalia? Does China try to starve Iran and Venezuela into giving Washington control of their oil? Does China push its (nonexistent) NATO vassals ever closer to Russian border? Yes, China is an international menace. No one can doubt it.
Aggressiveness? True, America has only a piffling few military bases around the world, a mere scattering of about 800, while the aggressive China, always shameless, has one, at Djibouti. Today, the Horn of Africa. Tomorrow, San Francisco. My God, we must gird our loins, send more money to the Pentagon. Next thing we know, the squinty-eyed bastards will be dating our daughters at Harvard. (Though, come to think of it….)
China spends heavily on education and R-and-D. It has not caught up with America in everything, but advances rapidly. America buys intercontinental nuclear bombers of no apparent purpose. The above is a mag-lev train now in development, to run at 373 miles an hour.
Consider America as it must look to a citizen of, say Chongqing. It looks barbaric. The United States is neck deep in violent crime; China has almost none. This is not because of watchfulness by police, but because violent crime is not in the culture. You don’t need police to keep people from doing what they are not going to do anyway. In American cities, murder is so common as barely to be noticed by the newspapers: 700 a year in Chicago and several times as many shot, 300 in Baltimore, similar numbers in a couple of dozen other cities. America seethes in racial hatred; China, blessedly having only one race to amount to anything, does not. Many tens of thousands in America live in medieval squalor on the sidewalks or in the subways; not in China. China beat Covid and goes about its business (friends there tell me that things are back to normal). America…never mind.
Does China mistreat its Islamic Uighurs? Yes, and might even if America were not trying to stir up a Jihadi rebellion there, as it is in Hong Kong. Not good at all. Is it worse than the US? Maybe. Note, though, that America’s Africans have lived in wretched circumstances for four centuries, currently wallowing in semi-literacy, drugs, social collapse, and hopelessness. None of these is changing in the Exceptional Country.
Much can be, and is, said against China, and a lot of it is true. But Americans are in no position to do the saying.
Socialist_
submitted by finnagains to BritishCommunist [link] [comments]


2020.09.21 14:03 finnagains China is in fact a pragmatic authoritarian oligarchy, not a dictatorship (r/Leftwinger) 21 Sept 2020

Leftwinger
As the presidential debates approach, and our grotesque candidates prepare to compete for Best Actor, with their supporting casts of pollsters, advance men, media shills, gestures coaches, focus groups, and allied technicians of mendacity, Americans of broad historical illiteracy, which is most of them, hear endlessly of the evils of China. Whether the evils exist doesn’t matter. The electorate won’t know the difference. Still, it might be amusing to think about the matter. How bad (as Ivanka would put it) is the Middle Kingston?
Permit me a more sanguine view than those of our leftover Cold Warriors. Let us start with what Beijing has done for its people. We might also find enlightening a comparison of today’s China with today’s America.
I know what China was in 1978 when Deng took over: a literally starving behemoth, among the poorest countries on earth, with people eating grass. Forty-two years later it has lifted several hundreds of millions from poverty, and the remaining poverty would not be recognized as poverty by the slum dwellers of India. Perhaps I err, but this seems to me both astonishing and admirable. No other country, ever, has done such a thing.
Overage Cold War hawks and salesmen for the arms makers like to say that China is “totalitarian,” which sounds appropriately terrible without meaning anything specific. How many people have been in a genuinely totalitarian and Communist country? I was in the Soviet Union when it still was the Soviet Union, and it closely matched John Bolton’s onanistic fantasies: grim, poor, intimidated, no stores or consumer goods, empty streets with cars only for the government, people sullen and dispirited. As we flew out on Aeroflot, people spontaneously broke into applause as we passed the Russian frontier.
This is not China. Walk the streets in Chengdu or Chongqing. Traffic (unfortunately) reaches American levels. You will see stores selling anything you would find in, say, Washington, running from cheap to pricey, large grocery stores tastefully decorated (a Chinese touch) with everything from staples to gourmet food. It is First World. This is fact, boys and girls. It is documentable. Go look. I have. You will also see, at least in Chengdu, many blocks of stores selling Buddhist artefacts, functioning temples well maintained, and monks in the traditional robes. None of this is what we are told to expect. It is what is there.
Restaurants flourish, from soup stalls to elegant, and night life is varied and great fun. (Here a guide to said night life.) There is, for example, an Irish pub, the Shamrock, which we much liked. Large districts exist of what might be called wide car-less alleys with dozens of restaurants with outside tables and typically Chinese gaudy neon everywhere. This is not Steve Bannon’s China.
From Its website: “Shamrock has the best sports telecasts in Chengdu! With five different satellite feeds we have you covered for rugby, football (round ball) Aussie rules, cricket, NBA, golf, tennis, boxing, and UFC. Wondering how to find out more about what telecasts are on? We have our website listing, you can also ADD us on WeChat or alternatively just give us a call or email for more info on what and when telecasts are coming up.”
Conservatives of formidable economic illiteracy speak of China as a communist dictatorship. The government, perhaps not wanting to admit a mistake, calls itself communist. Geriatric hawks make themselves foolish by referring to “Chicoms,” but China is in fact a pragmatic authoritarian oligarchy, not a dictatorship, and communist countries do not have hundreds of thousands of private businesses. You cannot criticize the government and the Great Firewall of China blocks the international internet. Not good, but…totalitarian? Try North Korea.
US commentators speak of China’s intolerance of Christianity. The intolerance exists. But the Chinese have reasons. Remember that Christianity, however heretical, cost China fourteen years of godawful bloody warfare during the Tiaping Rebellion of the 1850's and perhaps millions of dead. It was probably enough Christianity for them. And of course, they can look at the US and see the havoc caused by diversity of religion, race, ethnicity, and so on. They probably figure they don’t need any.
Americans also grouse that fentanyl, which they usually pronounce “fentanol,” comes from China, just as Mexicans complain that the weaponry of the drug cartels comes from the US. True in both cases, but it is a bit of a leap to attribute either to governmental hostility rather than freelance criminality. Regarding drugs, we might remember that China has had bitter experience of Eurowhites. Americans have compelled the Chinese to buy opium by force of arms, though the government desperately opposed this. Maybe turnabout is fair play.
American troops have also occupied Chinese ports by force. American soldiers have rampaged through Beijing, raping, looting, and killing for sport. The Chinese are aware of this. Americans can usually find their way home at night.
People in the US speak of China’s brazen aggressiveness. Chinese aggressiveness? Did China invade Iraq, killing hundreds of thousands? Has China spent almost twenty years butchering Afghans, militarily seized Syria’s oil, supported Saudi Arabia in a murderous war against Yemen, supervised the destruction of Libya, bombed Somalia? Does China try to starve Iran and Venezuela into giving Washington control of their oil? Does China push its (nonexistent) NATO vassals ever closer to Russian border? Yes, China is an international menace. No one can doubt it.
Aggressiveness? True, America has only a piffling few military bases around the world, a mere scattering of about 800, while the aggressive China, always shameless, has one, at Djibouti. Today, the Horn of Africa. Tomorrow, San Francisco. My God, we must gird our loins, send more money to the Pentagon. Next thing we know, the squinty-eyed bastards will be dating our daughters at Harvard. (Though, come to think of it….)
China spends heavily on education and R-and-D. It has not caught up with America in everything, but advances rapidly. America buys intercontinental nuclear bombers of no apparent purpose. The above is a mag-lev train now in development, to run at 373 miles an hour.
Consider America as it must look to a citizen of, say Chongqing. It looks barbaric. The United States is neck deep in violent crime; China has almost none. This is not because of watchfulness by police, but because violent crime is not in the culture. You don’t need police to keep people from doing what they are not going to do anyway. In American cities, murder is so common as barely to be noticed by the newspapers: 700 a year in Chicago and several times as many shot, 300 in Baltimore, similar numbers in a couple of dozen other cities. America seethes in racial hatred; China, blessedly having only one race to amount to anything, does not. Many tens of thousands in America live in medieval squalor on the sidewalks or in the subways; not in China. China beat Covid and goes about its business (friends there tell me that things are back to normal). America…never mind.
Does China mistreat its Islamic Uighurs? Yes, and might even if America were not trying to stir up a Jihadi rebellion there, as it is in Hong Kong. Not good at all. Is it worse than the US? Maybe. Note, though, that America’s Africans have lived in wretched circumstances for four centuries, currently wallowing in semi-literacy, drugs, social collapse, and hopelessness. None of these is changing in the Exceptional Country.
Much can be, and is, said against China, and a lot of it is true. But Americans are in no position to do the saying.
Socialist_
submitted by finnagains to Socialist_ [link] [comments]


2020.09.21 14:01 finnagains China is in fact a pragmatic authoritarian oligarchy, not a dictatorship - 21 Sept 2020

As the presidential debates approach, and our grotesque candidates prepare to compete for Best Actor, with their supporting casts of pollsters, advance men, media shills, gestures coaches, focus groups, and allied technicians of mendacity, Americans of broad historical illiteracy, which is most of them, hear endlessly of the evils of China. Whether the evils exist doesn’t matter. The electorate won’t know the difference. Still, it might be amusing to think about the matter. How bad (as Ivanka would put it) is the Middle Kingston?
Permit me a more sanguine view than those of our leftover Cold Warriors. Let us start with what Beijing has done for its people. We might also find enlightening a comparison of today’s China with today’s America.
I know what China was in 1978 when Deng took over: a literally starving behemoth, among the poorest countries on earth, with people eating grass. Forty-two years later it has lifted several hundreds of millions from poverty, and the remaining poverty would not be recognized as poverty by the slum dwellers of India. Perhaps I err, but this seems to me both astonishing and admirable. No other country, ever, has done such a thing.
Overage Cold War hawks and salesmen for the arms makers like to say that China is “totalitarian,” which sounds appropriately terrible without meaning anything specific. How many people have been in a genuinely totalitarian and Communist country? I was in the Soviet Union when it still was the Soviet Union, and it closely matched John Bolton’s onanistic fantasies: grim, poor, intimidated, no stores or consumer goods, empty streets with cars only for the government, people sullen and dispirited. As we flew out on Aeroflot, people spontaneously broke into applause as we passed the Russian frontier.
This is not China. Walk the streets in Chengdu or Chongqing. Traffic (unfortunately) reaches American levels. You will see stores selling anything you would find in, say, Washington, running from cheap to pricey, large grocery stores tastefully decorated (a Chinese touch) with everything from staples to gourmet food. It is First World. This is fact, boys and girls. It is documentable. Go look. I have. You will also see, at least in Chengdu, many blocks of stores selling Buddhist artefacts, functioning temples well maintained, and monks in the traditional robes. None of this is what we are told to expect. It is what is there.
Restaurants flourish, from soup stalls to elegant, and night life is varied and great fun. (Here a guide to said night life.) There is, for example, an Irish pub, the Shamrock, which we much liked. Large districts exist of what might be called wide car-less alleys with dozens of restaurants with outside tables and typically Chinese gaudy neon everywhere. This is not Steve Bannon’s China.
From Its website: “Shamrock has the best sports telecasts in Chengdu! With five different satellite feeds we have you covered for rugby, football (round ball) Aussie rules, cricket, NBA, golf, tennis, boxing, and UFC. Wondering how to find out more about what telecasts are on? We have our website listing, you can also ADD us on WeChat or alternatively just give us a call or email for more info on what and when telecasts are coming up.”
Conservatives of formidable economic illiteracy speak of China as a communist dictatorship. The government, perhaps not wanting to admit a mistake, calls itself communist. Geriatric hawks make themselves foolish by referring to “Chicoms,” but China is in fact a pragmatic authoritarian oligarchy, not a dictatorship, and communist countries do not have hundreds of thousands of private businesses. You cannot criticize the government and the Great Firewall of China blocks the international internet. Not good, but…totalitarian? Try North Korea.
US commentators speak of China’s intolerance of Christianity. The intolerance exists. But the Chinese have reasons. Remember that Christianity, however heretical, cost China fourteen years of godawful bloody warfare during the Tiaping Rebellion of the 1850's and perhaps millions of dead. It was probably enough Christianity for them. And of course, they can look at the US and see the havoc caused by diversity of religion, race, ethnicity, and so on. They probably figure they don’t need any.
Americans also grouse that fentanyl, which they usually pronounce “fentanol,” comes from China, just as Mexicans complain that the weaponry of the drug cartels comes from the US. True in both cases, but it is a bit of a leap to attribute either to governmental hostility rather than freelance criminality. Regarding drugs, we might remember that China has had bitter experience of Eurowhites. Americans have compelled the Chinese to buy opium by force of arms, though the government desperately opposed this. Maybe turnabout is fair play.
American troops have also occupied Chinese ports by force. American soldiers have rampaged through Beijing, raping, looting, and killing for sport. The Chinese are aware of this. Americans can usually find their way home at night.
People in the US speak of China’s brazen aggressiveness. Chinese aggressiveness? Did China invade Iraq, killing hundreds of thousands? Has China spent almost twenty years butchering Afghans, militarily seized Syria’s oil, supported Saudi Arabia in a murderous war against Yemen, supervised the destruction of Libya, bombed Somalia? Does China try to starve Iran and Venezuela into giving Washington control of their oil? Does China push its (nonexistent) NATO vassals ever closer to Russian border? Yes, China is an international menace. No one can doubt it.
Aggressiveness? True, America has only a piffling few military bases around the world, a mere scattering of about 800, while the aggressive China, always shameless, has one, at Djibouti. Today, the Horn of Africa. Tomorrow, San Francisco. My God, we must gird our loins, send more money to the Pentagon. Next thing we know, the squinty-eyed bastards will be dating our daughters at Harvard. (Though, come to think of it….)
China spends heavily on education and R-and-D. It has not caught up with America in everything, but advances rapidly. America buys intercontinental nuclear bombers of no apparent purpose. The above is a mag-lev train now in development, to run at 373 miles an hour.
Consider America as it must look to a citizen of, say Chongqing. It looks barbaric. The United States is neck deep in violent crime; China has almost none. This is not because of watchfulness by police, but because violent crime is not in the culture. You don’t need police to keep people from doing what they are not going to do anyway. In American cities, murder is so common as barely to be noticed by the newspapers: 700 a year in Chicago and several times as many shot, 300 in Baltimore, similar numbers in a couple of dozen other cities. America seethes in racial hatred; China, blessedly having only one race to amount to anything, does not. Many tens of thousands in America live in medieval squalor on the sidewalks or in the subways; not in China. China beat Covid and goes about its business (friends there tell me that things are back to normal). America…never mind.
Does China mistreat its Islamic Uighurs? Yes, and might even if America were not trying to stir up a Jihadi rebellion there, as it is in Hong Kong. Not good at all. Is it worse than the US? Maybe. Note, though, that America’s Africans have lived in wretched circumstances for four centuries, currently wallowing in semi-literacy, drugs, social collapse, and hopelessness. None of these is changing in the Exceptional Country.
Much can be, and is, said against China, and a lot of it is true. But Americans are in no position to do the saying.
Socialist_
submitted by finnagains to leftwinger [link] [comments]


2020.09.21 14:00 oboejdub Amy Beach, Symphony in E minor "Gaelic" (Community Project)

Hello everyone, this is oboejdub’s next community project!
If you haven’t seen my work in our previous projects, check out Slavonic Dance no. 6 and Samuel Coleridge-Taylor "Petite Suite de Concert"
This next project is a challenging symphonic movement:
 
Amy Beach, Symphony in E minor "Gaelic," I. Allegro con Fuoco
 
I chose this piece because it is gorgeous, and because I would love to see RSO rise to the challenge, and because her work is woefully under-represented. We don't control the orchestral canon, but we control what we play and we can leave our little mark. I am very excited to play this piece, and to share it with all of my friends and colleagues. I believe in us and our ability to rise to meet the the challenge.
This piece, premiered in 1896 by the Boston Symphony, was the first symphony to be composed and published by an American woman. It rolls along in a turbulent 6/8 metre with sounds of howling wind and bright brass horn calls piercing through dark fog. It lightens up with gentle lilting melodies with enough of a celtic flavour to suit the "Gaelic" subtitle. In fact the third theme, presented by the oboe, is taken from a work by irish composer and harpist Turlough O’Carolan, titled “Conchobhar ua Raghallaigh Cluann (Connor O’Reilly from Clounish);” however I have not found recordings of it played except in reference to this symphony.
 
I am using a live recording for the click track, therefore there is a little bit of flexibility and musicality in the tempo. There are quite a few moments of rubato and some pretty large ritardandos as well. In addition to the click, I have added occasional voice-overs helping count and sometimes subdivide over certain measures with the greatest tempo flexibility. Every now and then you will hear my voice speaking “one two, one two, one-and-a-two-and-a-one.”
There is one passage after rehearsal J which requires special instructions. Please read the performance notes document for instructions on how to navigate this. Winds and brass counting rests, don't worry, you just need to know where to find the exit ramp. Strings, we have a few tricky entrances that will each be cued seperately. The performance notes document should make it clear, but feel free to ask if you have any more questions about it.
The clarinet solo in this passage at Piu Lento has already been selected and pre-recorded to make this possible (Thanks Pier!). The other clarinet solos throughout the movement are still up for grabs. Thank you to the string players who also pre-recorded this passage (irisgirl86, Lifetime_Curve, KestrelGirl, SF, Weasel, CelloSean, and relytvn).
The click track starts with a brief tuning note (Just to double-check, because you already tuned before. Right?), a two measure count-in, and it ends with a count and a clap for synchronization. This clap is convenient for me, but not critical. Don't start over if you miss it.
The recording is at A = 441hz, please check your tuning accordingly. Make sure that you have the levels adjusted so that you can hear the track while you play so that you have a reference for intonation (and phrasing! and expression! and style!)
 
I recommend that you listen all the way through a few times with your part in front of you and mark in some eyeglasses (or ears?) for the moments where you really need to lock in and pay attention.
 
Below is the sheet music for this piece. Make sure you grab the right part, and you may as well take a peek at the score and the performance notes while you are there!
 

Amy Beach, "Gaelic Symphony" Sheet Music

** Audio & Click Track
 
The final date to submit your recordings is November 8th at 11:59pm Eastern Time! There will always be a possibility of extension but I don't want to start with too distant a deadline or we risk losing focus.
 
Send your final recordings here!
*Please include your reddit user name, or who you want to be credited as, and instrument in the file name. It is helpful for me if you can post in this thread or let me know on discord if you are planning on recording, and again after submitting. Thank you!
 
Be sure to join us on Discord!
 
Instrument List:

Woodwinds

  • Flute (1, 2)
  • Oboe (1,2)
  • Clarinet in A (1, 2)
  • Bassoon (1, 2)

Brass

  • Horn in F (1,2,3,4)
  • Trumpet in F (1,2)
  • Trombone (1, 2)
  • Bass Trombone
  • Tuba

Percussion

  • Timpani

Strings

  • Violin 1
  • Violin 2
  • Viola
  • Cello
  • Bass
 
Transposed parts are available for Clarinet in Bb, Trumpet in Bb, and Trumpet in C.
There are slightly simplified string parts available as well if the originals are too intimidating. I can't make the music easy, but maybe some people will find that this lowers the difficulty level enough for them to still be able to participate.
I have re-written most of the parts in musescore. While I do recommend using the originals, you are welcome to look in the “Re-engraved folder” if you think it’ll be a struggle to read the originals, handwritten as they are.
submitted by oboejdub to TheRedditSymphony [link] [comments]


GEICO Commercials - YouTube The Irish Rover - YouTube Eddy Wally saying 'Wow' 1,000,000 times (Wow guy) - YouTube Irish Dating Show - SNL - YouTube The time I was on an 80’s Dating Show First 8 Things A Woman Notices About A Man - YouTube Irish Girl Tries shooting GUNS in AMERICA For the First ... Кабардинка в Москве - YouTube The Flash 2x20  Iris confesses her feelings for Barry ...

Ireland Dating Dating Site - anotherfriend.com

  1. GEICO Commercials - YouTube
  2. The Irish Rover - YouTube
  3. Eddy Wally saying 'Wow' 1,000,000 times (Wow guy) - YouTube
  4. Irish Dating Show - SNL - YouTube
  5. The time I was on an 80’s Dating Show
  6. First 8 Things A Woman Notices About A Man - YouTube
  7. Irish Girl Tries shooting GUNS in AMERICA For the First ...
  8. Кабардинка в Москве - YouTube
  9. The Flash 2x20 Iris confesses her feelings for Barry ...
  10. First Contact - Seeing white man for the first time - YouTube

My buddy Antonio, from the awesome RealMenRealStyle.com channel and site, published a video about the first 10 things a woman notices about a man & what attr... Stumpy Brown is a Wangkujanka woman who lives at Christmas Creek in the Kimberley. Stumpy has seen many changes throughout her lifetime but nothing so dramat... The Irish Rover. The pouges and the Dubliners Irish Dating Show - SNL - Duration: ... THE NEW DATING GAME Air date July 30, 1987 - Duration: 28:51. ... Eight Times America Surprised Trevor ... Watch all your favorite GEICO commercials right here. They'll make you laugh; they may even make you cry. Из концерта Черима Нахушева в Москве 'Дарю Добро 25 лет' на сцене. крокус сити холл Инстаграм ... Irish Dating Show - SNL - Duration: 4:57. Saturday Night Live Recommended for ... Obi-Wan says 'Hello There' 67 million times - Duration: 0:58. Sheevy Memes 7,002,675 views. 0:58. TOP 20 ACOUSTIC GUITAR INTROS OF ALL TIME - Duration: 13:59. Rick Beato Recommended for you. 13:59. This is what happens when you reply to spam email James Veitch ... This ep OMG!!! ok so Iris breaking down and telling Barry how she feels about him and wanting a future with him.My shipper heart!!! The shock and disbelief o... Let's give this a shot (ha... ha). Irish Girl Tries shooting GUNS in AMERICA For the First Time. This channel is all about trying new experiences and because... Eileen (Kate McKinnon), Molly (Aidy Bryant) and Siobhan (Cecily Strong) vie for Niall's (Bill Hader) heart. #SNL #SNL43 Subscribe to SNL: https://goo.gl/tUsX...