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nomnomsik · 5 years

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Eavesdropping - (m)

Word Count: 2.1K

Pairing: Idol!Jimin x Idol!Reader

A/N: To @chinkbihh bc she was being a hoe for Jimin.

Trigger warning: DOM!JIMIN, Smut, profanity, possessiveness, yandere-themes, humiliation, protection is used. Please do not read if you are sensitive to these topics. [EDITED]

The endless sea of chants and screams roared, filling the whole venue. A bright smile was ingrained in the idol’s face which hid all of his fatigue and annoyance. The end of the year award shows wrapped up all the music that had come out in a pretty little bow; the most influential and popular ones being rewarded in the form of a glamorous award.

Each time his group was called for an award, Jimin hid his smirk behind a polite smile and his constant bows to other idols. He was finally being rewarded for all the struggle his group had to go through and those bastard idols who constantly looked down on them. The rewards were finally and rightfully his. Jimin had to remind himself not to get too carried away with his smug. But, how could you blame him when his group was snatching all the important awards of the night?

To top off his pleasant mood, your group had also attended the award show. Not only did you look gorgeous like usual, but the dress hugged your body that it was difficult for him to not stare at your ass. For once, he was actually thanking those ridiculous Korean beauty standards. He couldn’t stop staring at your thighs and legs, completely infatuated with your confidence and aura. You already killed the red carpet, articles popping up left and right minutes after your appearance. You were the gem of the group and you knew it. Your attitude completely hooked him in. He just had to have you.

Jimin was waiting for this award show because for once in his life, you were MC’ing with him. He was going to stand right next to you, converse with you, and maybe later in the backstage, seduce you. Jimin sat with a straight poker face, his legs crossed over each other and his hands shoved in his pockets. Excitement built up in his body as scandalous thoughts popped in his head.

How he just wanted to shove you into the bathroom and have his way with you. He wanted you to cry out his name, bend to his will, and lose all of your innocence at his hand. Jimin stared blankly at the performance on stage, completely lost in his racy thoughts that he didn’t feel the touch on his shoulder. With a harder shake, Jimin was forced to turn around, looking up at his manager who pointed to the backstage entrance. Jimin brushed himself off as he ducked and made his way through the black curtain.

The hair and makeup stylists retouched their work as he sat in the changing room. He wore his black suit with the low cut black shirt underneath that exposed his the top of his chest. His rose gold locks fell over his eyes as he let out a frustrated sigh. He couldn’t focus at all.

“Whatever.” He muttered, trusting himself to just go with the flow. With a push, he stood up, the stylists desperately trying to get their finishing touches as if it actually mattered. His manager guided him through the hallway as the staff hooked him up with his mic pack that was pushed in his back pocket. He kept his cool as he was finally introduced to you, your outfit also changed.

You wore a black lace knee-length dress with a cascading waterfall opening chiffon jacket. The ends of your dress were delicately accompanied with a scalloped lace hem trim. Jimin almost felt his jaw fall in amazement as he stared. As he looked down, the gleam of your heels caught his eye. Your feet were comfortably strapped in a pointed cross-strap heel decorated with a crystal on the back. The heel was maybe almost four inches and yet you stood straight, clearly not bothered by it at all. Although you had the chiffon jacket overtop of your dress, he could see just how tight the wrapped around the curves of your body.

His eye twitched in irritation as the male staff attached the mic pack onto the back of your dress. He watched as the staffer pushed your chiffon jacket to the side, revealing your bare arms and helping you hook the pack with a bundle of cloth. Jimin glared at the male staff behind you back, earning an apologetic bow from him. The corners of his lips curled up as he had complete control over the people in the room.

Of course, they won’t want to mess with one of the most influential artists here. You better step back, that’s right.

As you looked over to Jimin, he bent his elbow, microphone in hand. You wrapped your arm around him, the staff giving you a countdown before your entrance. To Jimin, this was a pre-debut to the world of his relationship with you. The most beautiful woman of the night, arm wrapped around his as the two of you took powerful strides onto the stage. The pleasant sound of your heels clacking on the crisp floor further increased his smugness. It was a small thing, but so satisfying and sexy to him. The two of your charismatic looks earned the squeal of thousands, the loud screams bouncing off the large walls.

On the other hand, you were oblivious to his intentions, your sole goal of not messing up on live television. Jimin was handsome, his bright smile directed towards all the cameras catching his every angle. It made you flustered inside that you stood next to one of the most sought out man by so many. Like the professional he was, Jimin noticed your slight nervousness and hesitation. He picked up his mic, bringing it up to his mouth as he read the first cue card. Jimin’s voice broke you out of your hesitancy, as you brought your own mic to your lips, smiling up as if nothing had happened.

There she is.

Jimin smiled proudly, his eyes always looking straight ahead. The rest of the night had gone smoothly, you and Jimin sharing some funny moments live. Normally, the aegyo the show would force the MC’s to do would make him cringe. But he found it quite endearing and interesting that you were willing to humiliate yourself like that. Maybe you were into that. He’ll find out later anyway.

The next shift of MC’s were up as Jimin waited for you to wrap your arm around him again. The two of you gave waves to the crowd as you both stepped off the stage. The backstage crew immediately huddled around you, taking the earpiece off and the cue cards. As soon as you had handed your batch of cue cards, Jimin had dragged you by the wrist. You sputtered, unsure why this famous man was touching you at all. His touch made you feel dirty as he led you down the hall. He was too high above you that your face heated up in embarrassment.

Jimin pushed the door to the men’s room open, dragging you to the last stall and pulling you in. The back of his hand caressed the smooth surface of your cheek as you stared at him with fear in your eyes.

“Uh, Mr. Park… W-what are-... I mean what’s going on…” You looked around in the small stall as Jimin stood a bit taller over you.

“Do you know how annoying it is to watch you flaunt around in this outfit, completely blind to all the hungry stares directed at you?” He seethed, tilting your head up to meet his eyes.

“Mr. Park, I knew that though… There’s not much I can do about it though…” You murmured, a sudden wash of submissiveness overcoming your body. It was a peculiar sensation that you never really felt before. But you wanted to please him through your obedience.

A smirk graced the corner of his lips as he let out a chuckle. “Oh, so you’re one of those girls, huh?”

“Mr. Park, I would greatly appreciate it if you could let me out. I’m very tired.” You ignored his comment, remembering that this meeting could change both of your careers forever.

“Turn around.”

“E-excuse me?” You squeaked.

“I said, turn around.”

You turned your body around until you were no longer facing him anymore. Not only was his voice threatening, but the desire to make him happy sent a thrill up your body. Jimin’s hand landed on your ass, rubbing his hand through the fabric of your dress. With a loud slap, his hand sent a shock through your body as you felt your legs on the verge of giving in and falling.

Jimin grabbed both of your hands, pulling them behind your back. He pulled your arms and forced your back to his chest as he whispered into your ear.

“I’m going to fuck you here and now. How does that sound, baby?”

“U-um, Mr. Park…” You gulped, embarrassment flushing your face. “Make it quick.”

“What happened to that confident woman from before?” Jimin sneered, unbuckling his belt and letting his pants fall a bit. He brought his hand into the inside pocket, pulling out a very familiar wrapper and ripping the top with his teeth.

“Why the fuck do you have that with you?!” You blurted out, your face searing in embarrassment.

“Because I know I get what I want in the end.”

He pulled your dress up to your stomach, his fingers brushing over the wetness of your undergarments. Without a sound, Jimin pushed your panties to the side, stroking his covered length a few times before slipping in.

You squeezed your eyes at the pain. Damn you for being stupid enough to not tell him to prep you at least. On the other hand, Jimin was in heaven, enjoying the rare tightness that he hadn’t felt in a while. With a rather large grunt, Jimin thrusted at a fast pace from the start, watching as you struggled to support yourself on the stall wall. Jimin held onto your hips, groaning at the intense pleasure that turned his mind blank.

You cried out as Jimin slammed back into you, sending a sharp shock of pleasure each time. Jimin took one of his hands off your hips, preferring to take a bunch of your hair as he pulled it back.

“You’re s-so fucking k-kinky, Mr. Park.” You stammered as Jimin harshly tugged your hair back. Jimin let out a huff, grinning.

“And you’re a proper bitch, calling me Mr. Park.” You let out a groan, feeling Jimin’s balanced pace become more erratic. “Call me that o-one more time and I swear I’m going to make sure that this whole facility hears you.”

You whined as he tugged onto your hair, pulling your body back to meet every thrust he sent into your body. You bit your lip to prevent slipping out his name, focusing on the pleasure that began to buildup in your core.

“S-shit… Fuck… I’m-” Jimin lowered his head, his pace slowing down as he emptied his contents into latex. His teeth found its way to your shoulder, biting and sucking on your skin.

The aftermath was uncomfortable as you pulled your dress down and cleaned yourself of the wet juices. Jimin stood in front of the bathroom mirror, checking his appearance once more before nodding. He looked as if nothing had happened. You, on the other hand, had to go to painstaking lengths to fix your hair and wrinkled clothes.

Jimin patiently waited for you before leading you out the bathroom door together. He found it charming that you could barely keep your head up. A bunch of staff looked at the two of you, their faces obvious that they knew what had transpired. Jimin hummed, not really caring. You were the only thing that mattered. Before the two of you split ways, a male staffer came up to the both of you, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. Jimin recognized him as the same guy who had helped you put your microphone pack on.

“Uh… We need you to return your microphone packs… please…”

Jimin chuckled. “Well sweetheart, I guess you didn’t need to stop calling me ‘Mr. Park’. They heard anyways.”

“I hate you, Park Jimin.”

Dispatch had a field day with that content, taunting it in front of both of your agencies. You were absolutely mortified when you were told that it had gotten into the hands of Dispatch, but you sighed. Of course, it got into their hands. The vast contrast between your reaction and Jimin’s made it even more unbearable.

Jimin sat in the office of his manager, on Wednesday morning, as he was explained what had happened.

“We received something from Dispatch about your…” The manager trailed off, before clearing his throat. “About your rendezvous with y/n.”

“And what about it? You know I’ve done this so many times.” Jimin spoke nonchalantly, tilting his head back to stretch. “I’m going to keep her. I claimed her and I don’t need anyone else. She’s mine.” Jimin snapped. “Is it my reputation and career at stake? Just tell Dispatch I’ll give them 2 million if they keep their mouth shut.”

The manager just nodded, turning around to send a call. He just sighed.

What a mess.

Before Jimin walked out, he quickly added with a smirk.

“Also tell them to send it to me. I want to keep it.”

#yandere bts #bts smut #jimin smut #yandere jimin x reader #jimin x reader #bts scenario #jimin scenario #yandere jimin #idol jimin #idol jimin x reader

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ayellowbirds · 6 years

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Keshet Rewatches All of Scooby-Doo, Pt. 23: “A Tiki Scare is No Fair"

("Scooby-Doo, Where Are You", Season 2 Episode 6. Original Airdate: 10/17/1970)

AKA, "Adventures In Culturally Insensitive Tourism"

This is the sole episode of Season 2 of Scooby-Doo, Where Are You! that has no musical chase segment, and the episode feels like it really drags in comparison. The content doesn’t help much. Read this recap bearing in mind that i’m an American of mostly Ashkenazic ancestry, and so i was raised with a lot of white privilege. If i make any missteps in criticizing the episode’s handling of Hawaiian culture, let me know.

The scene opens to soothing music with an evening view on an active volcano, the music transitioning into Aloha Oe as the view transitions down to a Hawaiian village where Shaggy, Scooby, and one “John Simms” are enjoying a luau. The scene is presented in the same terms Shaggy and Scooby are experiencing it: tourism aimed at a mostly white audience. Although there’s faux-conversational background noise, none of the locals are heard to speak—not to the gang, not to one another, and barely even when the episode’s villain appears. Only two Hawaiian character gets any lines, and it’s near the very end of the episode.

Shaggy’s first line sums up the attitudes informing this scenario.

After its illegal annexation as a US territory to appease the interests of white settlers, Hawaii had been a US state for barely more than a decade before this episode aired. American tourist culture—that is, white American ideas about what Pacific culture is like, filtered through the experience of tourism and material indulgence.

Mr. Simms snaps a photo of Shaggy stuffing his face, mentioning that it’ll be great for his newspaper, and Shaggy shares his gratitude for Simms taking the gang on a tour. The episode is kind of vague as to whose dollar funded the trip; if Simms brought the gang, his reasons are never brought up, and it seems more likely they arrived by other means and that the arrangement with Simms is about being shown the sights.

In fact, Shaggy mentions plans for the following day: visiting the “ancient village of a lost tribe”, a plan the rest of the gang came up with that isn’t part of the tour Simms is conducting.

Simms warns Shaggy and Scooby that the village is haunted, and advises them to just stick to the tour and enjoy themselves.

Then the drums start.

A poorly-animated man slides in from offscreen, stammering, “ghost drums!”

A trio of drums decorated with faces throb and pulse alone on the sand like abandoned personal massage wands, and ominous clouds move in around the volcano. The light over the whole scene turns red, and in an explosion of smoke, a masked figure appears.

I found it odd that, when mentioning this scene later on, Shaggy insists that Simms was present when this “witch doctor” appears, but he’s actually vanished when the villain shows up to declare that everyone present is “on the forbidden ground of Mano Tiki Tia!”

Now, “tiki” is a word indelibly merged with the concept of island culture in the American consciousness, most egregiously in the form of gimmicky lounge/bar drinks served in cups poorly imitating traditional carvings. It’s from a Maori word, meaning “figurine”, and as far as i’m aware, doesn’t actually mean anything in Hawaiian (though they are related languages, so maybe there’s a cognate i’m unfamiliar with). “Mano” could be any of several words depending on how you accent the vowels when writing it in English; it could mean “shark”, a source of water, or “a vast number of things”.

It’s more likely that Joe Ruby and Ken Spears just made it up to sound “Hawaiian”.

The costumed villain (who, unsurprisingly, will turn out to be a white man) vanishes, and the villagers, Shaggy, and Scooby panic. Scooby and Shaggy are separated in the confusion, and Shaggy finds himself alone.

The action cuts to the Pineapple Parlor, where Fred and Daphne dance to a jukebox while Velma kvetches about Shaggy and Scooby’s idea of fun. Remember what I was saying about the indulgent American tourist culture? The episode began with luau number 48.

Shaggy arrives in a panic, knocking down the door and surfing it across the floor to tell the others what happened in sentence fragments that don’t really communicate anything. “Shaggy, get ahold of yourself,” Fred advises.

The gang take the Mystery Machine back to the site of the luau, Shaggy and Velma arguing about “scientific facts” versus the things Shaggy saw with his own gullible eyes. As the gang arrive, Velma catches sight of an old man sitting by a statue.

The gang get out of the van, and Velma suggests asking him, but to her surprise, he’s vanished before the others could see him. Just as quickly, a “ghost drum” appears, bouncing towards them, and circling the Mystery Machine as they gang try to hide... only to flip over and reveal that Scooby was hiding underneath it.

The gang want to find Mr. Simms, but Shaggy is reluctant, until the incentive of another luau is dangled before him. I really need to affirm that the tourist-centric concept of the luau is inauthentic, and stands as a symbol of the whole repackaging, rebranding, and sale of Hawaiian and broader Polynesian culture to white people. Shaggy’s appetite for luaus goes well beyond his usual gluttony and makes him into a living avatar of American imperialism, here motivated to save lives only by the prospect of more parties.

While searching, the gang find a newspaper with articles by Simms. They can tell this because the page Velma is reading is shown to have the name John Simms written across the entire top of the page, less of a credit and more of a headline or title for the paper itself. It also has the worst typeface choice ever made for a newspaper.

The gang want to investigate further, intending to follow the tracks into the “jungle” (guay de mi, am i glad that word is vanishing from the English lexicon), and Scooby needs convincing to use his nose to follow the scent.

This is probably the single most uncomfortable image of Fred Jones that exists, and i’m including things that can only be described with the words “rule 34″ in that.

Naturally, Shaggy falls for the temptation, and scarfs down the Snack and gets to sniffing on all fours. Scooby follows suit, reluctantly, and we get another glimpse of the old man, watching from the bushes. The gang catch sight of him and flip out, and he laughs to himself as they flee.

Seriously, though, how strong is Velma Dinkley? Get this girl into some weightlifting competitions. This particular formation hooks Shaggy and Scooby upside-down on a tree branch opposite some similarly-posed bats, evidently drawn by someone who couldn’t be zoinksed to look it up and learn that there’s only one species of bat native to Hawaii. The boys flee from the menacing red-eyed, red-eared grey-black bats and—we get another transitional wipe! Are they here to stay?

When the gang literally run into each other again, they wind up at the feet of a giant statue, which Velma identifies as the figure of Mano Tiki Tia from the newspaper article. They’re in the “haunted” village, strewn with human skulls and ominously sharp carvings. As the gang look around, the giant statue rotates at its base, and its eyes open to watch them.

Somehow, they don’t notice this.

They do notice the witch doctor, who chases them in the direction of a large building that is evidently still seeing use, complete with a rotating trick wall. Shaggy and Scooby are left on the outside, as a snorting shadow—very clearly a boar—approaches, and Shaggy is forced to heft a “club” in self-defense.

...what? The boar jumps out of the underbrush, followed by two piglets, bowling Shaggy over. Meanwhile, Velma drops through a trap door, and winds up in a cavernous dungeon where she spots Mr. Simm’s horribly tacky hat. She hides, just as the Witch Doctor enters, but her haypile hiding place triggers a sneeze and she has to run.

The boys recover at the feet of the statue, where Shaggy for some reason has the utter gall to ask if Scooby is really afraid of ghosts. As Scooby gives the obvious, honest answer, a voice booms:

“MANO.... TIKI... TIA!”

Shaggy looks up to see where it came from.

Mano Tiki Tia is the biggest “monster” the gang face by far, and unless i’m misremembering things, will hold onto that status for a good long while.

He’s also really obviously mechanical, and as he gives chase, the camera lets the viewer plainly see the creaking wheels moving his feet over the ground. Hiding from him leads the boys to reunite with Velma, and the trio flee the Witch Doctor into a nearby building where they attempt to barricade the door, forming a chain to pass furniture across the room.

I’m pretty sure this is the first time we see this particular gag in Scooby-Doo, though it’s going to repeat plenty of times in the future.

A brief glimpse of Fred and Daphne’s wanderings reveals another sighting of the old man, and the scene cuts back to the chase.

You know, usually the disguises involve them throwing something else on over their clothes. This is one of the most obvious times that they would have needed to strip and throw on something else, and i really feel like that’s time that would be better spent running.

Even more astonishingly, this disguise works, and the Witch Doctor is totally fooled as “Tarzan” directs him towards “boy, girl, and dog”.

Meanwhile, Fred and Velma find a genuine clue:

A table half-covered with pearls and oyster shells. Another transitional wipe later, we get one of the few exchanges that suggest the gang have a sense of real danger, as Shaggy complains “my feet are killing me,” and Velma responds:

“It’s a good thing we slipped the Witch Doctor, or that wasn’t all that would be getting killed.”

Not that the Witch Doctor ever shows any signs of being armed or in any way capable of hurting the gang, but... wow.

A moment later, Scooby spots a small wrecked airplane. It looks like it’s overgrown with vines—plastic, Velma notes—and there’s a laughing skeleton at the controls... manipulated by a tripwire Shaggy sets off, linked to a tape recorder hidden under a nearby shrub.

Emboldened by the realization that it’s a fake, Shaggy uses the skeleton for some prop comedy. “Hey skinny, do you know why the skeleton went to the library? To bone up on a few things!”

Shaggy laughs at his own joke, and then the skeleton, which is no longer connected to the tripwire and tape recorder, starts laughing as well. I’ll save you some wondering before the end: this sequence gets no explanation whatsoever as part of the villain’s scheme, and is not referenced after it concludes. We never find out how the fake plane crash plays into things, or what caused the skeleton to laugh again.

The trio book it (that’s another library joke), and run into Fred and Daphne. The transitional wipes see heavier use as the gang continue to investigate, chasing the old man into an underwater cavern that leads back into the haunted village, and another encounter with the Witch Doctor and Mano Tiki Tia.

The Witch Doctor alternates between ominous declarations in a faux-aged falsetto, and guttural, animalistic growling, both provided by the diverse talents of the late John Stephenson, who also lends his voice to Mano Tiki Tia. The only reason i don’t complain about this casting (the many flaws aside, the showrunners had already demonstrated that they understood the idea of casting nonwhite characters with appropriate voice actors, and this was back in the dang seventies) is that both are eventually revealed to be white dudes.

Trapped between a rock and a nutcase, the gang flee into some nearby huts. The Mano Tiki Tia statue demonstrates some decent dexterity and considerable strength, lifting up the entire small houses from the ground to look for the gang as if it were a shell game. The kids, of course, are not hidden under any of the huts, but are instead clinging desperately to the rafters of one.

The chase sequence is one of the few in which the gang seem to face a real, immediate threat of harm if caught, with Mano Tiki Tia’s fists slamming pitfalls into the ground. The contrast between the desperate nature of the chase and the many gags involving Scooby and Shaggy responding inappropriately actually make the whole scene work better, as the jokes break the tension of the action and the chase makes the jokes seem fresh rather than a constant stream. Even the canned laughter can’t quite spoil it.

Eventually, Shaggy and Scooby work together to improvise a disguise that actually scares off the Witch Doctor, shambling out of the brush as a kind of “leaf monster”. Fred’s inspired to frighten the villain even more, and formulates a trap that involves a “trick amusement park mirror from the Mystery Machine” (the what and why do they have that?) being placed to frighten the Witch Doctor right into a concealed pit.

Once again, Shaggy and Scooby foul things up in a way that catches the villain anyway, winding up on top of Mano Tiki Tia and blinding the statue so that its attempts to snag them capture its master, instead.

The statue crashes, and Fred unmasks the Witch Doctor:

Mister John Simms?

Somewhat thankfully, the horribly racist caricature villain turns out to be white American in disguise. And the statue of Mano Tiki Tia?

How many parade floats you know that can punch holes in the ground, Velma?

Fred and Velma conclude that Simms set up the whole thing to scare villagers and tourists away so he could poach the lucrative oyster beds for pearls. “Right, Mr. Simms?”

Jinkies, not even a “meddling kids”?

As fir the old man, he appears and reveals himself as...

Um, never mind what i said about appropriate voice casting. Lt. Tomoro is unmistakably Casey Kasem putting on his more authoritative voice, sounding almost exactly like his performance as the heroic but paranoid Cliffjumper in the Transformers cartoons.

Tomoro, like Inspector Lu before him, reveals that he’d been on this case “for a long time”, and that the gang have solved the case for him—so he treats them to their final day of vacation in Hawaii.

The gang enjoy some more dancing, Scooby steals Shaggy’s poi, and the episode ends with the visiting white teenagers and their dog having saved the day by interfering in an ongoing investigation where the locals failed to accomplish anything.

What a great message. I’d like to say the franchise gets better about this kind of thing, but, well, it’s going to be up and down for a while.

That said, there’s only two more episodes of Scooby-Doo, Where Are You! to go... maybe we’ll see if in the New Scooby-Doo Movies?

(like what i’m doing here? It’s not what pays the bills, so i’d really appreciate it if you could send me a bit at my paypal.me or via my ko-fi. Click here to see more entries in this series of posts, or here to go in chronological order)

#scooby doo #KRAOSD

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thisseomarketingguide · 3 years

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The Dog Thinker and The Truth

I love Dogs, so I regularly think, how, what, where and why canines do what they do? My central goal, has been to notice, and be dynamic locally, and anyplace to energize canine mindfulness. Why? Since canines need us. They rely upon mindful people to really focus on them. Be that as it may, as a canine scholar, I know more. The people NEED the canine more!

What caused me to choose to compose this article? Indeed, I am a canine mastermind, and am excited about canines' conduct any place they are. At home, on strolls, at the recreation center, at the sea shore, in a vehicle, on a level bed truck, stuffed behind a bike, simply sitting, or setting down, standing and woofing, and simply being a canine.. Allow me to make it understood, I'm not a canine watcher, but rather a canine scholar. Each canine that crosses my way, my considerations begin thinking about the thing they might be encountering. For instance, I think, about the data, canines are getting smelling as they stroll along, or what makes them bark at certain individuals and not others. I notice and think how human conduct change, and consistently to improve things, when canines are important for their lives. I unfortunately think how canines go into damaging conduct in their own home when left alone for significant length at an at once. I think what canines might be dreaming about with the peculiar shenanigans they show during rest. All so retaining and testing.

Numerous individuals settle on choices about adding a canine to their family, and acknowledge the duty really focusing on their necessities. In any case, notwithstanding canine mindful, other family duties and occupations occupy time and energy. On the other hand, there is another "relative," the PC. Helpful, proficient, educational, slick and coordinated, the web has gotten a vital "relative!" Easy openness to data, individual associates, relatives, schools, specialists, houses of worship, outsiders, organizations and out and about associations has make life plentifully full. The ruin for some, is its addictiveness. Such a lot of consideration given to the expanding marvels of the web has caused numerous individuals to lose face-to-actuality individual associations.

Canines' don't utilize the web.

Canines' ears, nose, and mouth are, their web.

Accommodation, speed, and long for data has become a need in the present way of life. Online media programs compensate for the absence of vis-à-vis individual associations. We have Facebook, Twitter, MySpace, StumbleUpon, web journals, sites, email, Merchant Circle, LinkedIn, Skype, YouTube, Flicker, Snag-A-Job, Wikipedia, Search Engines thus substantially more to be appreciative for in acquiring kinships around the planet.

Canine's don't utilize the web.

Canines' social scene is any place they are.

Ways of life in all monetary levels are haute, while having the most recent in web embellishments. We go through cash, to make it helpful to NOT have vis-à-vis individual contacts!

Canines' don't utilize the web.

Canines' way of life is giving of themselves.

Meeting with others for inventive reasoning versus web conversations are decisions, yet the web wins constantly The energy for eye to eye contact has been lessening. An in-person contact happens unrepentantly.In different words, why go across the road to visit somebody, when you can email? Why in your own home, walk higher up to tell your teen supper is prepared, simply email the "supper ringer!"

Canines' don't utilize the web.

Canines' exhibits steady mindfulness..

Canines' "quiet" way has been underestimated. Since they can't talk, doesn't mean they don't know about the climate or your faculties. As a canine scholar, canines don't need over-whelming consideration. They make the most of their space to search out environmental factors with their sharp detects. So when you nestle, or scratch them to an extreme, they may leave. They lean toward consideration just when they sense they are rewarding you.. They need to serve you, not you serve them "constantly. " Their free craving, expect you to keep down now and again, without something over the top "picking or pressing their body." especially they don't mind when you play a lot with their tail. Importantly, canines need to be effectively focused, so they can "read" how they can best reward you.

The canines' set of experiences returns more than 15,000 years back when they were domesticated.Due to particular rearing by people, the canine has formed into many differed breeds. Today we keep on being acquainted with new varieties, for example, the now famous Labradoodle a combination of a standard Poodle and a Labrador Retriever. Cross-rearing whether intentionally, or arbitrarily, the canines' attitude with human connections doesn't change. Canines observe each move proprietors make, and know when their hide group is expected to give comfort. Trust me, I am the canine scholar.

Canines don't utilize the web.

Canines' steady sense continue as before... reliably mindful.

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Canine's don't utilize the web.

Canines PROVIDE for our HUMAN LACK.

"Dog!....come to daddy!

Shockingly, canine has been directly close by constantly.

Canine promptly wakeful to your sound.

Canine promptly bounces up to your knee, energized with affection in his eyes.

Canine loves the stroking on his neck, as you do, so you stroke once more.

Canine satisfies you with a serene and euphoric energy, and in this manner loosens up you following full time work.

The arrival of endorphins for both human and canine, sprouts with comfort, no human, or web can give, and that is THE TRUTH.

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athertonjc · 7 years

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Dueling Gardeners on Stage by Susan Harris

Though not a big theater-goer, I HAD to see the comedy “Native Gardens” when it played in DC because it’s about next-door neighbors representing different demographics and attitudes toward gardening. I’ll admit that I laughed, but the stereotypes in the play – of people and of plants – bugged me no end.

First, the dueling couples. The people on the right are passionate about their garden, involved in the local gardening community, and enter their garden in the Potomac Horticultural Society’s garden contest every year. They’re old, white, a defense contractor and a retired bureaucrat, and just in case we’re not sure what to think of them, we learn that they’re Republican. Are they representative of gardeners today or negative stereotype from another era? Either way, I’m offended.

The couple on the left are the opposite in many ways, and clearly the darlings of the playwright and the audience. They’re young, Latinos, a successful lawyer and his PhD candidate wife who advocates for native plants and preaches loudly about how terrible the neighbors’ plants are. You know, hydrangeas and azaleas. “Your plants are hurting the environment!” she proclaims more than once.

They all agree on one thing – that the chainlink fence has to go!

The saving grace in all these stereotypes is the use of the young couple’s Latino origins to enlarge the topic beyond plant origin to human origin. When the older man claims he should be able to continue to garden on some land that turns out to belong to the neighbors, he claims “squatter’s rights,” going against his presumably anti-squatting grain. And when the older couple accuses the native-plant supporter of being anti-immigrant, her retort is that nonnative plants are colonialists who arrived here to conquer the indigenous population. Clever!

Mexican-American playwright Karen Zacarias is perfectly suited to addressing the characters’ different national origins. Whether she’s suited to tackling disputes over plant origins is another matter. According to this article, the dueling gardener idea came to her at a dinner party.

Someone brought up a fight they were having with their neighbors and someone else brought up a fight their parents were having with their neighbors, and we all started talking about how awful that is, because it’s where you live.

The two families have different ways of gardening and it’s about the culture of gardening and the politics of plants. It’s a big-hearted comedy with a lot of sharp little teeth in it. By focusing on plants, we are able to discuss so many different things going on in our culture right now and our country right now.

But where did the playwright get her understanding of plants, native or otherwise? Her representative declined my request for an interview so I don’t know, but she DID write three book recommendations into the play, in its most preachy moment. The older couple (and the audience) are told they should read:

Garden Revolution: How Our Landscapes Can Be a Source of Environmental Change by Larry Weaner and Thomas Christopher

Bringing Nature Home by Douglas W. Tallamy and Rick Darke

Wild Urban Plants of the Northeast by Peter Del Tredici and Steward T.A. Pickett

Now the Tallamy book is an obvious choice but Garden Revolution is about meadows, so a surprising choice for urban audiences. But truly misguided is the selection of Del Tredici’s book defending invasive plants in urban settings. The three books are promoted in the theater lobby and website, and the DC Public Library is credited with helping the theater choose the books, which are also recommended on the library’s website. There the book descriptions confirm my suspicion that the book-picker hadn’t actually read them or was too unfamiliar the topic for the job.

Set Design Strategy Revealed

I’ll stop ranting now and end with an interview with set designer Joe Tilford, whose research into garden styles and plants is pretty interesting.

The Butleys, on the other hand, have been winning horticulture club prizes for their garden, though never the top prize, just honorable mentions.

“This is not an award-winning garden,” Joe said. “This is an award runner-up garden.”

To get a feel for what that meant, Joe consulted with a garden competition consultant. (“There are such things,” he said.)

The consultant told Joe that Frank Butley would probably force his plants to grow in such a way that they became a thick mass of colorful blooms. Unnatural, even.

The conflict between what is unnatural and what should be natural “is really important in the play,” Joe said. And the gardens — on one side a lush lawn, neatly trimmed hedges and compact flower beds; on the other, weeds and dirt — become the battlefield.

“We used dwarf roses — two different kinds,” Joe said of the Butleys’ garden. “We used azaleas. We used hydrangeas. We used peonies.”

Dueling Gardeners on Stage originally appeared on Garden Rant on October 27, 2017.

from Garden Rant http://gardenrant.com/2017/10/dueling-gardeners-on-stage.html

#Garden Rant

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turfandlawncare · 7 years

Text

Dueling Gardeners on Stage by Susan Harris

They all agree on one thing – that the chainlink fence has to go!

Garden Revolution: How Our Landscapes Can Be a Source of Environmental Change by Larry Weaner and Thomas Christopher

Bringing Nature Home by Douglas W. Tallamy and Rick Darke

Wild Urban Plants of the Northeast by Peter Del Tredici and Steward T.A. Pickett

Set Design Strategy Revealed

I’ll stop ranting now and end with an interview with set designer Joe Tilford, whose research into garden styles and plants is pretty interesting.

The Butleys, on the other hand, have been winning horticulture club prizes for their garden, though never the top prize, just honorable mentions.

“This is not an award-winning garden,” Joe said. “This is an award runner-up garden.”

To get a feel for what that meant, Joe consulted with a garden competition consultant. (“There are such things,” he said.)

The consultant told Joe that Frank Butley would probably force his plants to grow in such a way that they became a thick mass of colorful blooms. Unnatural, even.

“We used dwarf roses — two different kinds,” Joe said of the Butleys’ garden. “We used azaleas. We used hydrangeas. We used peonies.”

Dueling Gardeners on Stage originally appeared on Garden Rant on October 27, 2017.

from Garden Rant http://ift.tt/2liQR9E

#Garden Rant

0 notes