#all i wanted was this town's respect // corrupted anne

[thefunkyclouds]

New Characters (47)

Burning Sonic

Corrupted Anne

Corrupted Benson

Corrupted Bubbles

Corrupted Lois

Corrupted Pico

Corrupted Tankman

#charred hedgehog // burning sonic #all i wanted was this town's respect // corrupted anne #corrupted gumball machine // corrupted benson #corrupted bubbly trouble // corrupted bubbles #lois is peter // corrupted lois #corrupted sharp shooter // corrupted pico #ugh? // corrupted tankman

[ashenpages]

Current Projects & Emoji Voting Key

Quick disclaimer: I’m a romance writer in all aspects of the term, so most of my works will contain mature content. Engage at your own risk, you know the rules, you’re responsible for curating your own experience of the internet, blah blah blah.

This post serves as a current mock up of fic ideas I’m either actively working on or considering working on next. You can drop me an ask about any of them, or just vote via the emoji combo I’ve assigned them.

Voting lets me know you’re excited about an idea and makes it more likely I’ll actually work on it. You can vote anytime, there’re no deadlines or winner announcements, just me gauging your interest by what I see in my ask box most often.

You can also ask me about the original stuff I’m working on currently. The current WIPs are Medusa centric and the emoji for them is: 🐍

Support my original work on Ko-fi and Patreon.

- Lupin: 🤑🤠💍  These are all oneshot ideas, between 5-15K each. If you want to vote for a specific idea, send me the emojis and the number of the idea.

Born from the idea that Goemon and Zenigata probably couldn’t be an item, my brain decided to come up with how I could write for them. Goemon’s teaching an ikebana class as part of his training, and Zenigata shows up as a student on forced recreational leave for his health from the ICPO. Zenigata wins the samurai’s heart through flowers. But what happens when Lupin and Jigen find out? (Only good sexy things, I promise. These beans are in a healthy polycule--be gay, do crimes) (WIP)

Jigen/Lupin, but it's Jigen deciding to seduce Lupin while wearing his own Lupin disguise. The thief is waaaaay too into it, and some artistry is taken with the sex so that they don't mess up the disguise too much during their encoutner.

Jigen/Zenigata/Lupin where Jigen has some fantasices about Zenigata, but is pretty sure they'll never happen. Tells Lupin about them. Suddenly the fantasies are coming true, in the middle of a heist, and Jigen doesn't what to do except get swept up in the moment and enjoy. Plot twist, it's Lupin dressed up as Zenigata granting all his gunman's dreams. Plot twist again, Zenigata catches them at it.

Zenigata/Lupin, where Lupin keeps doing good things in illegal ways and Pops has to find a way to punish him for it. Good thing for Pops Lupin's a masochist?

Trans!Lupin and Trans!Jigen premise: Jigen cares for Lupin after the master thief has top surgery, since Jigen has Been There and Done That. Caring, sweet, and a little sexy. Lupin is a much better patient than Jigen.

The one time Zenigata caught Lupin in an alley and kissed him and it was Jigen in disguise. Things get sexy anyway, and Zenigata has crushes on two thieves now. Lupin and Jigen "kidnap" him later for an evening of taking care of their inspector.

The background plot of Jigen's Gravestone where we see Jigen think he's done for and try to leave Lupin. Our thief has none of it, and we get to relish in the inherent eroticism of Lupin sitting in sniper fire, knowing Jigen's got his back. This is the moment I think Jigen finally believes he can be with Lupin forever.

I love the idea of something longer and more plot driven like a Lupin special where Lupin ends up in hot water and Jigen and Fujiko have to work together to save him. Jigen and Fujiko have such an interesting relationship. They're both partners of Lupin, they don't really like each other, they constantly screw the other over, but when it really matters they take care of each other. I'd like to see that highlighted a little more and also give them space to call each other out and bicker. Nothing sexy between them, but maybe a really interesting threesome with Lupin and Fujiko in a strap on once they save their boy.

- Sonic Vampire Novelist Coffee Shop AU: 📚☕💐

Shadow is an immortal vampire who has seen the world change for the worse too many times. These days it feels like he only lives for his coffee dates with Rouge, another immortal who loves each new era they encounter, warts and all. He has to admit that the book series she got him into speaks to him, at least. If someone in this era can understand him without meeting him, it can’t all be bad. But he hardly expected the goofy blue barista at the new coffee place to understand him the way those books do.

This is a novel length romcom romp with some big feelings about what it means to watch as things change, grow, and die. Expect lots of Big gothic feelings from this one, emotionally charged kissing, and overly-adoring sex. But also expect shenanigans from everyone in the coffee shop, which include Rouge, Amy, Tails, Knuckles, Cream, and more.

- Sonic Blazamy, "Like the Sun": 💖🌸💎

Amy Rose has been in love with Sonic for a while.

Or has she?

When the Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Shadow, and Silver are trapped as the fuel sources for Doctor Eggman’s newest evil scheme, Amy teams up with Blaze, Rouge, and Cream to save them. With Sonic out of the picture and Amy fulfilling his role, was she ever really in love with him? Or did she just want to be like him?

This is a novel length epic romance with lots of competent women and lots of romantic Blazamy content. Expect flowery hopes and dreams, badass self-actualization, and glancing hand touches that give way to cuddly and sweet sex.

- Persona 5: 🗡🍛☕

After bringing down the Metaverse twice, Ryuji didn’t think graduating high school and figuring out what to do with his life would be so hard. Akira’s back in town, and the gang’s more-or-less all in Tokyo, but everyone else seems to have a plan while Ryuji just floats. How’s he supposed to change the world when he’s not a phantom thief anymore?

This is a novel length fic that addresses how powerless one can feel being just one person in the face of all the corrupted systems and bigotry the world has to offer. It’s about holding on to what you believe in, working through the doubt, and fighting your way to a better tomorrow with the power you do have. The whole gang is queer, featured relationships being Mako x Ann, Ryuji x Akira, Futaba & Yusuke as platonic life partners. Akira is polyamorous and omnisexual, Futaba’s asexual and aromantic while Yusuke is demisexual and very romantic, Makoto’s a lesbian, Ann and Ryuji are bi, and Haru’s pansexual, demisexual, and aromantic. They’re one giant band of queer Phantom Thieves, and even if they’re not really doing the Metaverse thing anymore, they’re still gonna save the world!

Also, I’m gonna make Makoto not a cop. That super didn’t age well. Zenkichi and his boss can work on making them better/abolishing them for other better organizations.

- Hades Game: ❤️‍🔥💀

Oneshot. I just really need to elaborate on the threesome you can have with them in-game, okay? Healthy and canon poly relationships are so few and far between, so often I have to do a ton of groundwork to explain why it’s working in the fic, but NOT WITH THESE KIDS!

Get ready for Meg helping Zag and Than be better at expressing their feelings, lots of kissing, and probably pegging.

- Castlevania Animation Trevor/Sypha/Alucard: 🧛🏰🛌

Castlevania gave Alucard a threesome last season, and I just really need S4 to give me him being taken care of by his partners. They’re probably not going to give it to me, so I’ll need to do it myself. This is just an everybody loves Alucard oneshot, with the gang’s signature banter (to an extent), Sypha being sexy, and Trever being remarkably sincere. This fic is gonna feel like that Ann Hathaway picture with Trevor kissing Alucard and Sypha holding the end of Trevor’s whip while she leans her head on Alucard’s shoulder adoringly.

- Devil May Cry Nico/Lady/Trish: 💋✨😈

Nico’s gay, okay? Like really, really gay. And Lady’s bi and not into men who make her pay bills, but very into women who make amazing guns for her and demonesses with hearts who fight by her side. Trish is ace, but loves people and is pretty attached to Lady at this point. Plus it’s cute when Lady blushes and says nice things like they’re insults. I don’t have super solid ideas for them yet, and I envision these more like a polycule where Lady’s with Nico and with Trish but they’re not with each other more than seeing it as a threesome, but who knows what might happen. This is probably 1-2 oneshots depending on ideas, but might turn into a series of oneshots if people are interested (or I can’t control myself and inspiration strikes).

- Post FMA:B Blind Roy & No Alchemy Ed: 👀👑🙏

This is actually an old novel-length fic I wrote ages ago and didn’t post that didn’t turn out well because I was new to writing sex when I first wrote it. The plot is good, and is all about Roy learning to work with his blindness to reclaim his ambition of being Fuhrer and changing the system to something that actually cares for its people. He and Ed reconnect, fall into bed, and both set about working through their respective traumas about being “useless” having lost their sight/alchemy. They go to Xing as an ambassadorial party to offer Amestris’s collaboration on Al and May’s Alkahestry experiments--and uncover a plot that might threaten both kingdoms.

- Age of Calamity continuity Mipha x Revali: 🦚🐟💘

The first time Revali noticed Mipha, it was in the heat of battle. She stole his mark, taking them down with a flurry of quick blows from her spear. Violence rained from her like water--and then she healed him on her way to her next battle. No questions, no conditions, just pure kindness. The usual need to measure himself against those around him was quiet in her wake. And Revali couldn’t understand it. But how to get to know more about her? A fish and bird may fall in love, but where would they live?

This fic could be a oneshot or novel length depending on how far down the hole I fall. I need it to cover time, but it could be done in linked vignettes or with actually covering events in detail. I may elect to do a oneshot just to get it done and out of my system faster. So much fic to write, so little time.

Expect trans!Revali, polyamorous Zoras, scary competent Mipha, songbird Revali, love confessions that are made up entirely of berating Link for not loving Mipha the way she wants him to, and breaking these characters a little outside of their assigned roles in BotW and Age of Calamity. Background Link x Zelda, and Urbosa x Zelda’s Mom.

- Epic desert romance about Urbosa and Zelda’s mom: 🏜🏝⚡

I just think Urbosa should kiss women and Zelda’s mom should get more development and maybe a name or something. Also, lightning imagery/metaphors/play.

It also went way over my head that Riju wasn’t Urbosa’s daughter the first time I played BotW, so now I want to write about the Gerudo queen who refused to produce an heir. The Gerudo are fascinating and have a very interesting cutlure, but I think it could be examined from a nonbinary perspective that rejected pregnancy and wanting to find a husband. Not in like a hateful way, but in a way that examines if that’s really right for everyone. There’s that shop in town that sells Voe armor, after all. Maybe finding a husband and having children isn’t something you have to do if you don’t want to. And Urbosa really doesn’t want to.

#age of calamity #Devil May Cry #RoyEd #Castlevania #Breath of the Wild #Hades Game #Sonic the Hedgehog #Lupin III #Persona 5

[voidsentprinces]

FGO is a mythological fanfic clusterfuck...

Prologue: You are an unassuming man or madam who briefly meets their classmate, Mash. And angers their tsundere superior in Chaldea. An organization made to stop the end of the world. The one guy standing around and dressed like “I am an evil villain”. Turns on Chaldea and all the people suppose to go get blown up before they can embark on their first mission. This explosion sends you flying into Fuyuki with your Tsundere Superior and your classmate turned servant. You are the worst choice to save humanity from the end of the world. But now the only option.

Storyline of Fuyuki: Ah, good to be back in OG Fuyuki. Except everything is one fire, most of humanity is dead, and you have to escort a tsundere superior around while your classmate learns how to be a servant. Everyone is evil except Cu Chulainn who is a wizard and is your drunk uncle here to impart wisdom and snark.

Storyline of Orleans: Jeanne D’Arc comes back as Darth Vader leading an army of other historical villains including Elisabeth Báthory , Dracula, Marie Antonette’s Executioner, the Phantom of the Opera, and Darth Lancelot. You team up with Jedi Master Jeanna D’Arc as well as a younger for some reason dragonkin version of Elisabeth Báthory (just to make thing confusing), Marie Antionette, Motherfuckin’ Mozart, Kiyohime and Sigfried to stop her. Also dragons are everywhere. Darth D’Arc exists because Bluebeard wanted to give her catharsis.

Storyline of Septem: What if Emperor Nero wasn’t completely off his fucking rocker, came back as a fashionable wife, and has to fight previous Roman Emperors to get back Rome? Including a rotund Julius Caesar, an incoherent batshit Caligula, a young Alexander the Great and his hapless future successor who is an adult and just as confused as you, and Romulus. Whose death spawns Attilla the Hun as a space dressed waifu. And just to make their roles in history null and void. You enlist the help of Boudica and Spartcus to aid you. Also Jing Ke and mecha Lu Bu are there too.

Storyline of Okeanos: What if Francis Drake was a big tiddie pirate wife. Alright what if previously to your arrival she 1 v 1′d Poseidon and WON!? Alright now what if after getting her help, you fought Eric Bloodaxe, got trolled by Euryale to re-enact the myth of the Minotaur. But then the Minotaur turned out to be a good boi and joined you. Also Artemis carrying around Orion, Atlanta and David, King of Israel is there. So is Jason and some of the Argonauts but like just Medea and Heracles. Replacing the other Argonauts with Hektor from the Trojan War. Also you have to punch Blackbeard with Mary Read and Anne Bonny.

Story of London: There’s fog every where. You have to join forces with Traitor Knight, Mordred, Doctor Jeckyll, a kid Hans Christian, and Frakenstein’s Bride. Contending with Jack the Ripper, Mephistopheles, Hoienheim, Mecha Babbage, a bunch of Mannequins, and then the Mist of London just sort of summoned Nicoli Tesla and Darth Arthur to fight too. At the very end Tamamo no Mae and Sakata Kintoki arrive just to exit stage left immediately.

Story of E Pluribus Unum: Medb wants to fuck Darth Cu Chulainn but he’s not that interested. So she decides to fuck up Wild West America instead. Making Beowulf the Warden of Alcatrez, Fergus mac Roich the Heavy, and then kidnaps Rama’s Wife before mortally wounding him. Also she has to fight against Lion Headed Mecha Edison, Helena Blavatsky. The two of which are using  Karna, Son of the Sun as the Bouncer. You convince a germ manic Florence Nightingale to aid you, pick up a wounded Rama on the way, as well as Robin Hood, Billy the Kid, young  Elisabeth Báthory again, Geronomo and Nero who is trying to be an actress to fight them all. Also Scathach, Fionn Mac Cumhill and Diarmid are there too. But they just do things at random and Li Shuwen randomly shows up too.

Story of Camelot: What if the entire round table was just a bunch of psychopathic zealots who worthship the ground Arthur walked upon. And then got into a fight with Ozymandius and Nitrocris for the lulls while launching a magical tactical nuclear strike on the entirety of Crusader State Middle East. All the legends of Hassan is trying to stop them but Arash is there too. Tawara Tota is also there to distribute a shit ton of rice. Nothing you do here really matters. But Bedivere shows up to aid in the lackluster ending. Xuanzang Sanzang is also there.

Story of Babylonia: Not Enkidu answers to giant Medusa who is pretending to be Tiamat. Bringing about a massive army of demons and monsters to wipe out humanity in prehistoric Mesopotomia. Leonidas, Ushiwakamaru, and Benkai are doing their best to fight off the hordes. After three Demons go out like bosses before your arrival. Also young Medusa and Merlin are there cause why not? After befriending a woman in a tiger kigarumi, Quetzacoltal, Ishtar, and Ereshikigal. You find out defeating giant Medusa was a ploy to summon the real Tiamat and shit goes down. You eventually drop Tiamat into the Underworld where the First Hassan dewings her after which Ishtar, Ereshikigal, and Gilgamesh work together to defeat her. Ushiwakamaru is captured and comes back as an evil version of herself but with the aid Nekai and Quetzacoltal going out in a blaze of glory you defeat them all.

Story of Saloman: Every servant shows up to fight off Soloman and his Demons, turns out Soloman is the daemon Goetia possessing the corpse of Soloman. And the true Soloman is actually your acting director and base medical doctor. After your classmate sacrifices herself you defeat Goetia and Soloman decides he’s good for now and peaces out taking Goetia down with him and restoring humanity. Bringing your classmate back to life in the process.

But wait THERES MORE! The remaining Demons who survive the Goetia fight decide they’re mad they lost. So create some singularities to air out their grievances. Trapping you and the staff of Chaldea in a time space continuum until you hunt down and take them all out.

Story of Shinjuku: The League of Evil comprising of James Moriarty, Yan Qing, Darth Emiya, the Headless Horseman riding the Spirit of Vengeful Wolves, and the Phantom of the Opera take over 1990s Shinjuku for the fun of it. You have to enlist of the aid of James Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes, Darth Jeanne D’Arc, Darth Arthur Pendragon, and Edmond Dantes. Turns out Moriarty that was your ally was actually the true Moriarty and the one leading the League of Evil was the Demon you’re looking for. Summoning the power of all Fictional Detectives you defeat Moriarty. I shit you not.

Story of Agartha: Welcome to the Center of the Earth. Where the vast open plains are ruled by Darth Francis Drake, Penthesilea, and Wu Zetian. You are joined by Astolfo who takes the form of a cute anime girl but retains his gender, Chevalier d’Eon, and a young Fergus. Fighting the Queens and their respective empires with the aid of...sigh, Christopher Columbus. Surprising no one, Columbus turns out to be the true villain and with the aid of Shahrazad and a Demon almost Colony drops the Center of the Earth on top of the actual Earth, Age of Ultron style. But the power of friendship you win. Also Godzilla Heracles is running around.

Story of Shimosa: What if just after or before the Warring States period: Ashiya Doman, Yagyu Munenori, Minamoto no Raiko, Tomoe Gozen, Mochizuki Chiyome, and Shuten Doji showed up to fuck everything up? Including corrupting Hozoin Inshun just to be absolutely asinine? You get the power of a time traveling woman using the legend of Miyamoto Musashi to get into shenanigans. Also obtaining the aid of Fuma Kotaro and occasionally a robotic mecha Kato Danzo. The Demon sort of just appears backing Ashiya Doman.

Story of Salem: The Salem Witch trials but if done like the VVitch in a horror film manner. Not so much about the battles but about the atmosphere. As you, your classmate, Robin Hood, Charles Henri-Sanson, Nezha, Mata Hari, and the witch, Cirice posing as Medea for a few seconds there. Have to pose as a traveling circus of storytellers and entertainers. While the suspicions of the towns people grow darker. Ghouls and spirits begin to haunt the night. There are executions and the Demon turns out to be the one you least expect. The soul of a child is used to open up a gateway for an Outer God and shit goes down.

But wait there is even MORE!

Story of Prologue: You’ve hunted down and killed the demons. And now the world is back to normal. When a new force arrives to take over Chaldea in your stead. One of those new arrivals brings along an army to slaughter Chaldea and activates the end of the world by way of Alien Invasion. You get out of there in the nick of time via a magical meguffin mobile and now have to track down Lostbelts. Each one controlled by a King, a Master who was your former colleague who previously got blown up and now is now revived by the Aliens, and their servant as well. Good fucking luck chuck!

Story of Anatasia: Russia is fucked. Russia is SO FUCKED! That its been stuck in an Ice Age since the reign of Ivan the Terrible. The Russians are forced to use a magic to turn them into anthropamorphic beings and have been surviving barely due to the machanations of Saleri, Ivan the Terrible, Anastasia Romonov, the Master of this Lostbelt, and a particularly sadistic fox woman. With barely anything to go on and running out of fuel. You have to venture out into the eternal Russian Blizzard to get the aid of one of the locals, Avicebron and Darth Atlanta to defeat Anatasia, Ivan, and tear down their cosmic eldritch tree to restore humanity in that sector.

Story of Gotterdammerung: You made it out of Russia and into the Netherlands, where it seems on the cusp of Ragnarok. You are immediately facerolled by Sigurd being possessed by Sutr. Who is under the command of a master there. Enlisting the aid of Napoleon Bonaparte you fight back against Frost Giants, Valkyries, and Sigurd. Also enlisting the aid of Brynhildr to do so. You also have to contend with a girl made up of several goddesses and Scatach taking on the manter of Skadi.

Story of S I N: Out of the frying pan and into the China if it never left or evolved beyond the Qin Dynasty. Except for the Emperor who has become a giant space base, artifical intelligence reaching immortality. After having close calls with mecha centaur Xiang Yu, Qin Langyu, an older Li Shuwen,  Lanling Wang. The Emperor sees you teaching peasants how to read and coloney drops a piece of himself on the village. You send Spartacus to punch to meteor...I shit you not. And with the aid of Mordred, Jing Ke, Red Hare, and Chen Gong. You impress Emperor Qin to come out of his shell and reveal his butterfly god form. Also the Master in this Lostbelt is actually a fucking vampire.

And that’s all I’ve gotten to so far.

#{ FGO is bizarre...really really REALLY fucking weird } #{ words from beyond } #{ i forced myself to play it so no one else has to }

[hihoneyimdead]

a dissection of anime nathaniel hawthorne in relation to the scarlet letter

In Which I’m Bored and Want to Talk About Anime Nathaniel Hawthorne and Why He’s More Interesting Than the Fandom Wants to Admit, and Also About Arthur Dimmesdale And Shit

This is going to be long. Fuck. 

(spoilers through the manga, which i have not read all the way through, so take everything i say with a grain of salt. same goes for the scarlet letter, which i haven’t read in nearly four years. ripperoni bro)

Above is the topic of today’s procrastination, Anime Nathaniel Hawthorne from Bungo Stray Dogs. He is a member of an American organization called the Guild, he’s a preacher, and he has a superpower/ability called The Scarlet Letter that allows him to manipulate his own blood into scripture that can either harm or defend via spears and shit and then shields and shit. 

He’s also a simp for Anime Margaret Mitchell, but I’ll be getting into that in a moment. 

Anyway, here’s a better picture of our lovely reverend, this time with his ability:

Funny, right? But that’s what I’m gonna talk about today simply because I’m bored and I should be writing but I’m currently not and I really have a soft spot for this bitch of a preacher. Hawthorne here has a lot more to his character than a lot of people give him credit for, which makes sense because he is a relatively-minor character and all he’s been doing recently is getting cucked by Anime Fyodor Dostoevsky, and while he may currently be Comrade Assassin, he’s still a complex character if you look past what our favorite Russian pimp has been up to. 

So a bit more about Hawthorne before I crack open my copy of his most famous book:

He is a preacher, not a priest, as shown by his choice in clothing. Priests don’t wear that, take it from a former Catholic. His clothes resemble the robes worn by classic Puritan preachers (such as the Reverend Arthur Dimmesdale, but we’ll get to him in a minute.) Whether that was on purpose or not I don’t know, but I’m aiming for a yes because Margaret Mitchell, his partner, wears a Southern belle-style outfit that Scarlett O’Hara (the main character of Mitchell’s most famous work, Gone With the Wind) wears, and John Steinbeck wears clothes reminiscent of Tom Joad (the main character of Steinbeck’s most famous work, The Grapes of Wrath.) It’s kind of a thing with the Guild. Edgar Allan Poe wears clothes that a goth around the time of Poe’s life would’ve worn. Same goes for Louisa May Alcott, Mark Twain, and H. P. Lovecraft. Meanwhile characters such as Lucy Maud Montgomery, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and Herman Melville wear clothes that their characters (Anne from Anne of Green Gables, Jay Gatsby from The Great Gatsby, and whoever the fuck was in Moby Dick, respectively.) Hawthorne fits in with that last set of characters, which is funny considering the real life Hawthorne’s works.

In reality, Nathaniel Hawthorne was an American author in the early-to-mid-1800s who wrote many short stories, novels, and poems and shit, usually Romantic in nature. He started off, though, as a big member of the Transcendentalist movement. Transcendentalism, if you don’t know, is kind of like the 1800s equivalent of hippies. They were pretty anti-government and anti-religion, usually specifically anti-Christianity. These institutions corrupted the basis of mankind. Hawthorne himself helped form a utopian commune up in New England (it didn’t last long, don’t worry.) As he grew older, he grew out of that kind of writing and lifestyle and into the works we know him for today, such as his most famous novel, The Scarlet Letter. It, like many of his other works, contains allusions to religion and exists as a sort of criticism on it. 

The Scarlet Letter is set in the middle of the 1600s in Puritan New England. The Puritans were known for being Super Christian. They did not pass the vibe check. The main character is Hester Prynne, a young woman convicted of adultery with an unknown father. After being “released” from prison after the birth of her daughter, Pearl, Hester is allowed to move around outside of prison. But to signify her “evilness”, she must have a red letter ‘A’ on the front of her dress at all times (the eponymous and extremely metaphoric scarlet letter.) Besides Hester and Peal, main characters include Roger Chillingsworth, a doctor and Hester’s ex-husband from England who has vowed to track down the father and have him punished as well, and the Reverend Arthur Dimmesdale, who is sick All of the Time For No Apparent reason. By the end of the novel it’s revealed that Dimmesdale’s illness is actually a manifestation of his guilt because he was Pearl’s father despite him being a reverend and all and Hester being an unmarried woman. He ends up dying in the end after professing his guilt and showing the town the red letter ‘A’ that God supposedly engraved upon the skin on his chest. 

So let’s start here with a brief summary of Dimmesdale’s actions in the book as recalled by someone who hasn’t read it in four years but who is looking at the Wikipedia article right now. 

We first meet him when he and another minister, John Wilson, question Hester as to who the father of her child was. She doesn’t answer. The next time we see him in person is when Hester goes to the governor to ask if she can keep Pearl. She pleads with Dimmesdale and Wilson (who is there too for some reason), and he manages to persuade the governor to let her keep her child. At some point soon after, his health really begins to decline, and Chillingsworth moves in as a physician. Chillingsworth discovers a weird symbol of guilt on Dimmesdale’s chest while the poor guy sleeps after suspecting that the preacher’s illness is a manifestation of an unknown guilt. Dimmesdale, filled with guilt, goes to the town square in the middle of the night one day and screams his guilt to the heavens, but he can’t make himself do it during the day. Hester, shocked by the poor guy’s whole deal, decides to break her vow of silence. She calls Dimmesdale outside of town and tells him that they’re going to move to Europe together and start a new life with Pearl. He agrees and seems reinvigorated. They go back to town, and all’s fine until he gives a really good sermon on Election Day. After that, he professes his guilt and dies in Hester’s arms. People there claim to see a “stigma” in the shape of a letter ‘A’ on his chest, though others say there’s nothing there. 

Dimmesdale is a man consumed by his guilt. He physically and mentally declines because of his guilt and his unwillingness to expose himself for the sinner he really is, though, through it all, he supports Hester and Pearl as best he can considering his station as the town minister. He’s supposed to be the beacon of mortality, the person everyone should look up to and respect and learn from. And here he is, an adulterer, and a liar. And when he finally grows past his guilt and decides to let it out in favor of leaving and starting life anew, he dies, consumed, supposedly, by the wrath of God. He “falls” as a sinner, struck down by the very flames of Hell themselves. Or, more likely, a regular heart attack. He died of shock, poor guy. 

Compare that to Anime Nathaniel Hawthorne. He starts out as a member of a secret association who, according to its leader, Fitzgerald, doesn’t do good, but does what needs to be done. That’s probably why Hawthorne joined it in the first place. While his main goal has always been eradicating sinners from the face of the Earth, he probably started out as a regular old minister. Eradicating doesn’t always mean killing, and this is shown as he only attacks those who threaten his work, his partner (wink), and himself. This changes after the woman he loves throws herself in the way of an attack and nearly gets herself killed saving him. In canon, she’s still in a coma. In canon, he gave himself completely into sin because of his guilt and love for her. And that’s where the similarities between Hawthorne and Dimmesdale really start.

Let’s start with the obvious guilt complex. This goes along with what I believe Dostoevsky’s ability, Crime and Punishment, does. I believe it feeds off of an individual’s guilt, manipulating it and their mind in the process. We see this with Karma, a young man Dostoevsky kills. Karma, in his last moments, goes through all he went wrong with in his life (you know, or as much as a manga page or two can have) and dies knowing that he’ll never achieve his dream. That’s a more extreme example, I think, and not one I should really be using as evidence for anything considering it’s the only example of this really happening. Every other person that Dostoevsky kills with his ability just drops dead without the audience seeing into their thoughts. He’s got an insta-kill ability, but my theory builds off the idea that he can control living or dying. Hawthorne came to Dostoevsky to work for Dostoevsky’s organization, the Rats in the House of the Dead, in exchange for Mitchell getting “revived”. He might look cool on the outside, but he left the Guild, his friends, because Mitchell got hurt. He loves her, and he says as much in the manga (the anime didn’t say so, but left it unsaid and obvious to those looking.) The next time we see Hawthorne, he’s a mindless assassin who really only remembers Mitchell from his past, and the assassin who nearly killed her. His guilt twisted him into someone completely different from how he was before, even looking physically leaner and as different a brief appearance in a manga and anime can make someone look. He’s even lost his glasses, and any normal look in his eye. It’s kinda like the main character of Crime and Punishment from what I can tell, but I also haven’t read that book so take what I say on that with a gain of salt.) He’s consumed by his guilt (thanks, Fyodor.) Guilt is a big part of his character (as much of a character as he has currently, anyway.) The same can be said for Dimmesdale, who, as I’ve said before was consumed by his own guilt and sin until his death. 

I hope that Hawthorne doesn’t end up as dead as Dimmesdale did when he reunites with his supposed love interest (love interests aren’t really a thing in this series, which makes Hawthorne and Mitchell even more interesting to me.) I hope he gets a happy ending, but... that probably won’t happen unless Dostoevsky dies, which seems like an end-game thing to me. He’s a bad dude with slight plot armor. 

Anyway, past the guilt, their relationship with the respective women in their lives is another important and interesting parallel. Dimmesdale, even through Hester’s punishment, more or less treats her as he would’ve before Pearl. I believe that he did truly love her in his own pitiful way, though not as much as he loved his relationship with God, as seen by his continued guilt and shit. But it’s important to note that he seemed to admit his own love for Hester by agreeing to run away to Europe with her, and he did so in little ways throughout the story by helping her keep Pearl and by really just giving her a lighter sentence than a lot of women would’ve gotten. Puritan ministers were up there with government officials in the law (look at the witch trials, for example), so he would’ve definitely had input on her punishment. Most women would’ve been stoned or banished from the town or colony. Hester, notably, was let off relatively easy with just the emblem and the vague banishment to living in a house outside of town alone with her daughter. Hawthorne’s partner was Margaret Mitchell, and from the very beginning until the assassin skewered them, the two of them argued. Honestly, they bickered a lot like an old married couple. It was kinda cute in a weird way. Neither of them would obviously admit their feelings for each other. Both are proud people, Mitchell coming from a disgraced rich family and Hawthorne being a man of God. But his concern for her becomes evident the moment she gets stabbed clean through and impaled a dozen feet above the ground. That’s when he really gets on the offensive, and when she’s destroyed (image below), he calls her by her first name for the first, and only, time, looking completely destroyed (image also below.) He nearly manages to kill the assassin. And when he wakes up and sees that she isn’t going to wake up, he leaves those he cares about to fix his mistake of letting her get this hurt.

When we see Hawthorne next, he is willing to do anything to redeem himself for his mistake. When we meet him as an assassin for the first time, in the manga he says something along the lines of “I, for the revival of the one I love, will fulfill the contract of death”. Which is... not normal, I’ll admit. Poor guy. In the anime, he says something different that I don’t remember, but that was similar if not slightly different (again, the anime isn’t as explicit with their relationship as the manga.) Meanwhile she’s in a coma and is likely not to be revived by those Hawthorne pledged his allegiance to, but those he left behind. 

The two ministers here follow generally the same path of sin. They start out as the badass ministers they really are, men of God. Then, one way or another, they fall deeper and deeper into sin as they go. For Dimmesdale, that was boning Hester Prynne and hiding it from the town and corrupting himself with his guilt. For Hawthorne, that was ‘allowing’ his partner to ‘die’ and surrendering himself to a higher power to try and get her back, losing himself in the process. In the end, both men are shells of their former selves. Dimmesdale dies sick. Hawthorne is a brainwashed assassin. Dimmesdale’s higher power, God, is ultimately what killed him, and his devotion is what really did him in. Hawthorne is probably gonna die or get otherwise written out, I have a feeling (several villains in this show have, just look at Pushkin and Mark Twain and even Mitchell herself.) If he is, it’ll be Dostoevsky or one of his weird Russian friends doing him in or taking him out of the picture. He’ll likely never see Mitchell again and he will die due to his newfound devotion to a “god” who is willing to punish him for going to far. 

And guys, Hawthorne’s ability is literally the titular scarlet letter. What else can I say?

Honestly, I’m not sure what this post was, only that I killed a good three hours writing it and that it gave me yet again a newfound appreciation for something I used to hate. It was Anime Hawthorne, but before that it was IRL Hawthorne and The Scarlet Letter. Thank you American public school system. 

#i refuse to tag this but yeah. #this isn't going in the main tag #i mostly wrote this bc a couple folks on the discord wanted to see it #i've gotten a real appreciation for anime hawthorne recently so yeah #he's still a villain but he's more complex than some people make him out to be #i guess #i wanna do more of these with other unlikable characers #next is steinbeck... which would mean i have to actually read the grapes of wrath ew #or watch it ew

[bluewatsons]

Laura Miller, Sleazy, bloody and surprisingly smart: In defense of true crime, Salon (May 30, 2014)

This stigmatized genre has much to teach us about the way crime and justice really work

Give me a book that begins with a time and a date and a boring address, something along the lines of "At 9:36 on March 24, 1982, Dep. Frank McGruff of the Huntington County Sheriff's Department was dispatched to 234 Maple Street in Pleasantville, North Carolina, a quiet, suburb 10 miles west of Raleigh, to follow up on reports of gunshots and screams."

There is nothing more generic than this sort of sentence -- which is why I was easily able to make one up on the fly -- and yet there's nothing more seductive, either. In it is promised: the regular-guy lawman (who always seems to have a new baby at home), the horrific crime scene (there is always more blood than anyone expects), the enigmatic object found lying in the foyer (marked with an X in the helpfully provided floor plan), the minute-by-minute timeline of that fatal half-hour, the witness reports that don't add up, the fractal-like multiplication of scenarios and theories and complications.

I've always felt somewhat sheepish about my appetite for true crime narratives, associated as they are with fat, flimsy paperbacks scavenged from the 25-cent box at garage sales, their battered covers branded with screaming two-word titles stamped in silver foil, blood dripping luridly from the last letter. The most famous practitioners of this louche genre -- Joe McGinniss, Ann Rule, Vincent Bugliosi -- come coated with a thin, greasy film of dubious repute and poor taste. (Can there ever be a valid reason to title a book "A Rose for Her Grave"?) True crime is also the mother's milk of risible tabloid journalism, of endless trashy news cycles in which the same photo of a wide-eyed innocent bride (where is she?); a gap-toothed kindergarten student (who killed him?); a bleary-eyed, stubbled suspect (why did he do it?) appear over and over and over again.

Occasionally, true crime is where literary writers go to slum and, not coincidentally, make some real money: Truman Capote's "In Cold Blood," Norman Mailer's "The Executioner's Song." It's not the Great American Novel, yet somehow such books have a tendency to end up the most admired works of a celebrated author's career. Is it because better writers tease something out of the genre that pulp peddlers can't, or is it just that their blue-chip names give readers a free pass to indulge a guilty pleasure?

By contrast, crime fiction has a better rep. It is the most respectable form of genre fiction, the one that even the snootiest literary critics will admit to enjoying now and then. They justly praise the innovative prose styles of Raymond Chandler or Elmore Leonard as vehicles for a distinctively American voice. And crime -- transgression of the social and moral order -- is one of literature's central themes, after all. Isn't one of the greatest novels of all time called "Crime and Punishment"? Plus, from Cormac McCarthy's "No Country for Old Men" to Toni Morrison's "Beloved," many novels by literary titans are crime fiction by another name.

True crime, however, labors always under the stigma of voyeurism, or worse. It's not just unseemly to linger over the bloodied bodies of the dead and the hideous sufferings inflicted upon them in their final hours, it's also kind of sick. Gillian Flynn's second novel, "Dark Places," describes the wincing interactions between its narrator -- survivor of a notorious multiple murder like the Clutter killings of "In Cold Blood" -- and a creepy subculture of murder "fans" and collectors; when she's hard up for cash, she's forced to auction off family memorabilia at their conventions. Yuck.

The very thing that makes true crime compelling -- this really happened -- also makes it distasteful: the use of human agony for the purposes of entertainment. Of course, what is the novel if not a voyeuristic enterprise, an attempt to glimpse inside the minds and hearts of other people? But with fiction, no actual people are exploited in the making.

I love crime fiction, too, but lately I've come to appreciate true crime more, specifically for its lack of certain features that crime fiction nearly always supplies: solutions, explanations, answers. Even if the culprit isn't always caught and brought to justice in a detective novel, we expect to find out whodunit, and that expectation had better be satisfied. A novelist who dares to build her narrative around a murder and then refuses to collar the perp by the last chapter -- as Donna Tartt did in her sumptuous, underappreciated second novel, "The Little Friend" -- will never hear the end of it. Readers of books and viewers of television and film demand not only to know who did it but why, preferably with a tidy little back story about a molesting uncle, bullying schoolmates or a mom who tricked with sailors in the next room. We believe in evil, but we also want pop psychology to explain it away.

Crime fiction reassures us that for every murder there is a sleuth as obsessed as we are with getting to the bottom of the puzzle. There are the formulaic clashes between the committed police detective and the self-serving brass, the feds who interfere with the locals (or vice versa) for purely territorial reasons, the nagging spouse and the occasional sloppy, time-serving colleague who just wants to wrap this thing up before he's set to retire with a full pension. But there's also always someone, the hero -- whether public officer or private dick -- who really, really wants to find out the truth and has the brains (and sometimes the brawn) required to do it.

Because most of us have a lot more experience with crime fiction -- TV and movies, but also books -- than we do with actual crime, our sense of how law enforcement works has been distorted by the imperatives of entertainment. Forensic scientists often complain that the public expects them to possess and deploy the wizardly high-tech tools they see every week on "CSI." Because the "CSI" team's gear is presented as omniscient and infallible, legal professionals must contend with jurors' overinflated confidence in forensic evidence. Even the most appalling news stories of incompetent or corrupt lab workers will never register as deeply as watching Gil Grissom and his earnest sidekicks stay up all night and ruin their marriages for the sake of seeing justice done.

For all their lingering shots of mangled bodies and gooey, maggot-ridden corpses, these TV procedurals paint a too-pretty picture. If Jack Nicholson were a true-crime author, he'd be telling the audience for such pseudo-gritty shows that they can't handle the truth. Finding myself seated next to a criminal prosecutor-turned-defense attorney at a wedding several years ago, I asked him what pop culture gets the most wrong about crime and punishment in America. After a long pause, he said, "I'm torn between two answers: How much police care about getting it right and how competent they are to do it."

True crime is not above trafficking in misleading clichés -- because, let's face it, there's not much that true crime is above. The majority of the genre is cheap sensationalism, deploying the most shopworn clichés: tragic maidens; idyllic small towns; smiling devils; winsome, doomed tots. Much true crime has achieved its goals if it gives its readers something to shiver over late at night or to whisper about at school. (Most of my early knowledge of true crime classics like "Helter Skelter" came from other girls who got ahold of the books while baby sitting and recounted the most horrific details to a breathless audience on the playground the next day.) Plenty of it offers a comforting message similar to that of crime fiction: that, for all the bewildering and seemingly random violence of this world, it is usually possible for us to know what really happened and who's responsible.

But we also live in a golden age when it comes to a more challenging vein of true crime. These books include Robert Kolker's "Lost Girls," about 14 unsolved murders in Long Island; Raymond Bonner's "Anatomy of Injustice," about the wrongful capital conviction of a black handyman for the rape and murder of an elderly white widow in South Carolina; Janet Malcolm's "Iphigenia in Forest Hills," about the celebrated journalist's inability to accept the guilty verdict against a young mother accused of hiring a man to murder her ex-husband; and Errol Morris' "A Wilderness of Error," which is in part a challenge to another milestone in the genre, Joe McGinniss' "Fatal Vision." Coming up next month is another landmark, "The Wrong Carlos," by James Liebman and the Columbia DeLuna Project, an exhaustively researched consideration of a 1980s case in which the state of Texas most likely executed the wrong man.

Even true crime books in which the identity of the killer is uncontested can open up welcome vistas of uncertainty. Recently, Anand Giridharadas' "The True American" examines the lives of two men: the sole survivor of a hate-crime spree, who forgave and tried to save his would-be killer, and the killer himself, who seems to have become a different man before his 2011 execution; who was he, really? Dave Cullen's masterful "Columbine," published in 2009, offers the most definitive account of the infamous school shooting and clears up many misperceptions, but still leaves the reader with a sense that the reasons for such acts may be fundamentally unknowable. Several years ago, when I was interviewing Margaret Atwood about "Alias Grace," her novel about a maid convicted of killing her master in 19th-century Canada, she remarked that murderers themselves often don't seem to understand their own crimes. They describe the acts as something that "just happened" or as if they were committed by someone else even as they acknowledge they did it. The true crime accounts I've read confirm what Atwood said.

Most important of all, true crime reminds its readers over and over again that most detectives aren't fantastically clever, that most investigations make dozens of significant mistakes and that even the most seemingly hard evidence can become as indeterminate as a quantum particle under sustained study. Sometimes the confusion is understandable. Jeff Guinn's "Manson," a biography of the murderous cult leader published last year, recounts how long the LAPD spent pursuing a bogus scenario in investigating the massacre at Sharon Tate's home.

Investigators assumed that because drugs were found on the premises, the motive was probably a drug deal or connection gone bad. Manson had his followers plant "clues," in the form of weird words written on the wall in blood, with the bizarre idea that the police would instantly link these words to the Black Panthers. (They instead assumed it was just crazy druggie writing, which of course it was.) Much time was lost before the cops were put on the right track by an informant. This, incidentally, is how most real-life whodunits, such as the Unabomber attacks, seem to be solved. There's nothing like true crime to dispel the notion that criminals get caught because of a detective's brilliant reading of the clues. Rather, they get caught because someone rats them out.

Nowhere is the danger of investigators' tendency to settle too early on a theory of the crime more evident than in stories of wrongful conviction. As "Anatomy of Injustice" tells it, police decided that Edward Lee Elmore, the simple-minded African-American man who had mowed neighborhood lawns for years, suddenly turned violent. Under the influence of a suspiciously meddlesome neighbor, a local city councilman, they ignored significant evidence contradicting this theory, and eventually resorted to falsifying evidence, while Elmore's own lawyers barely bothered to defend him at all. Finally, thanks to the efforts of an attorney working for South Carolina's Center for Capital Litigation, the conviction was overturned. The actual murderer has never been identified, but at least an innocent man has escaped death row.

Investigations aren't always led astray by deliberate manipulation, however. In "The Wrong Carlos," confused and inept handling of the crime scene, witnesses and hunt for the man who stabbed a convenience store clerk in Corpus Christi combined with coincidence and bad luck to lead to the unjust execution of Carlos DeLuna. He was the spitting image of the likely culprit to the degree that even people who knew either of the men quite well couldn't tell photos of them apart. Under the aegis of Liebman, 12 Columbia Law School students pored over the records of the case, producing a meticulous and highly detailed report on the crime investigation and trial -- which, while sobering, is also catnip for the amateur detective. It strongly suggests DeLuna was innocent and it's so convincing that even the victim's brother agrees.

Robert Kolker's "Lost Girls" and Errol Morris' "A Wilderness of Error" may be the most accomplished true crime narratives I've read in recent years. The killer or killers responsible for dumping bodies along a lonely Long Island road have yet to be identified. The investigation appears to be stalled for a variety of reasons having to do with the personalities and ambitions of local officials. So Kolker's "Lost Girls" focuses instead on the lives and families of the dead, young women who drifted into the world of prostitution and could not succeed at pulling themselves out again. It's a portrait of underclass life, frayed by substance abuse, domestic violence, crime and fecklessness, and it asks not what circumstances create a monster but which ones forge his victims.

"A Wilderness of Error" is remarkable not just for questioning a murder investigation and conviction but also for condemning the famous true-crime narrative written about them. Morris is a master of the genre, albeit in a different medium (documentary film) and can even claim to have gotten an innocent man out of jail by making "The Thin Blue Line" in 1988. Above all, he is preoccupied with how we establish what's true. His first book, "Believing Is Seeing: Observations on the Mysteries of Photography," dismantles our faith in the facticity of photographed images. "A Wilderness of Error," his second, concerns the case of Jeffrey MacDonald, convicted of murdering his wife and two small children in 1970. The crimes were the center of a bestselling book, "Fatal Vision" by Joe McGinniss, later made into a TV movie, that pressed home McGinniss' theory that MacDonald was a psychopath.

The writing of "Fatal Vision" was the subject of yet another book, Janet Malcolm's "The Journalist and the Murderer," devoted to probing the moral soft spots in all journalists' relationships to their subjects, but Morris believes these murders were insufficiently investigated and that MacDonald did not get a fair trial. Many aficionados of the trial find Morris' arguments unconvincing, but that is partly Morris' point. Just like the cops, outside observers settle on a story about what happened and become invested in it. They then ignore or dismiss any evidence that undermines that story, often with a vehemence that increases as the counter-evidence mounts. Certainty, an emotional state all too common today, is less a testament to the merits of a belief than a measure of how much we want to go on believing it.

At the very least, Morris presents a convincing case that an uncertain McGinniss was pushed into endorsing MacDonald's guilt by his publisher because offering a conclusion would make for a more satisfying book. Later, of course, the author had no choice but to double down on that conclusion, and whether or not he believed it before his editor urged him to declare the case solved in his own mind, he seems to have fully believed it in the end. All this would be meat for an interesting consideration of the nature of truth and whether it can ever be meaningfully detached from desire, but as Morris keeps pointing out, when it comes to true crime, real lives and real justice are at stake. Crime fiction can afford to go on telling us what we want to hear, but at its best true crime insists on telling us what we can't afford to forget.

#media #true crime #ethics #errol morris #crime fiction #crime #society #detective fiction #television procedurals #Joe McGinniss

[kurtty-drabbles]

Grounded au

N/A: will this be an Oneshot or will have more? No idea and this can sort work with Caroline au. LK could have known about Zaorva but never had the time to interact with her…The seeds are planted here.

@djinmer4 @dannybagpipesarecalling @bamfoftheundead @everykurt

Zaorva is no stranger to situations like this. No, in all the infinity and finite, this is not new and certainly won´t be the last time she´ll be here. Galaticus is gazing upon her - a look invoking pity and annoyance at the same time. Galaticus do know it won´t be the last time she´ll be in this position- and begins his speech. Why bother with formalities? Maybe, in the end, Galaticus likes traditions.

“Zaorva, Mother Celestial…you understand why are you here?” he asked sighing in a weary tone and at the same time amused(hiding pretty badly) as Zaorva nods in her humanoid form and speaks looking at the rest of the Outer Family.

“Yes, I have meddled into the affairs of Pheonix ” she looks at the FireBird who is impassive or trying to be. “and meddle with Knull´s plans as well” and looks at Knull who is completely taken peering at her mere form and is impossible to know what he´s thinking or feeling.

“Yes, how you meddle with their plans?” Galaticus asked non-interested but doing a semi-decent in pretend to care for this entire situation. Death is knitting a new scarf.

“I managed to persuade the King of the Shiars to marry with one of my Immortals causing a hole in the dynasty …and with this marriage, the war was over and the plans Knull was crafting turned null” and Zaorva dares to crack a smile as if she´s pried of a secret joke and Knull is imaging it is something about to the fact he´s the void.

“How you plead?” Galaticus ask as if it is an old dance and one he´s not fully interested in.

“Guilty. And to skip formalities, I accept my punishment. I also apologize for my sister for meddling” she looks back at Pheonix who accepts the apologies (never seemed too angry but still remains in the trial. Maybe she too gets used by Zaorva breaking rules) and then to Knull. “And to the void, I apologize for ruining your plan of destruction” she offers checky and Knull would smile if he wasn´t too intrigued.

“So, since I´m guilty and accept my punishment…let´s wrap this up” she request. Pheonix and Galaticus exchange glances and nods. Knull now is a bit in the dark as he never once was in the trials until know…is this common?

“In that case, Zaorva, Mother Celestial…I hereby sentence you…”

_______________________________________________________________________________________

And Kitty Pryde looks at the sky feeling the vibration of the carriage-is a bumpy road as the coachman promised- noticing how the sky is especially blue without one single cloud in the sky or at least in her peripherical view. She was a citizen in the city of Gal (a small city on the planet of Skalo) and took the carriage to go as far as away she can.

The coachman has to speak louder-not quite screaming but almost because the carriage makes noises thanks to this bumpy road- so Kitty could hear him clearly.

“You´re a lunatic. I only accept in taking you to …that place because of the payment” he speaks grumpily. Kitty can sense his fear and is understandable really. “Are you tired of living? Look…” the man stop the carriage and now tries to plead for Kitty´s life one last time. “That thing we now must call king is evil beyond imagination…whatever you´re hoping to accomplish …but Knull will destroy you completely” and finishes. “Go back…please, ask me to go back” he begged and Kitty wonders if he´s begging for her life or his.

“Don´t worry. I know what I´m doing”

“No, girl…you really don´t!”

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Knull conquer the planet of Kalos and all the others in this constellation with quite easy. No one was a match for him and no one forgets how cruel and sadistic he can be with his enemies, even the ones that haven´t opposed him yet.

And his palace is one to reflect his power- there´s a sense of luxury, of course, and there´s also a sense of dread and danger- and many Skrulls are at least sane enough to show some courtesy and respect to their patron.

One Skrull named Vicent - a hybrid from Earth of 685 and the Empire of Skrull and fully embraced his heritage- enters in the chambers where Knull resides and the curiosity of this Skrull is peaking.

“My lord” Knull didn´t bother to gaze back to the Skrull in question. “May I ask a question?” is always important to ask permission from IT if nothing else.

“As I´m in good mood…better not bother me with inane questions” a silent warning and the Skrull can take a hint and hopes this is not an inane question or won´t upset his patron.

“Why you remain on this planet? We could offer something far better…if you so wish” and Knull looks displeased by this question and the Skrull wonders if this will be his last moment on this existence, however, Knull takes his attention back to the balcony.

“Is a strategic position” Knull replies and is an honest answer. Kalos has a great position and it helps him to plan his next conquest, however, Knull can do this in any place (there´s no limitation for him) and his real reason needs to remain private. “Plus, this is a pretty planet. I like the organization. 4 sections that rule this planet and all of them obey to me…I like it”

And is answer enough as the Skrull leaves.

And…she seems to make the ambient prettier.

________________________________________________________________________________________

Kitty Pryde notices the opulence of his palace right away-she did that as the coachman run for his life and didn´t even collect his payment- and notices the servants working in the area. A palace to be like this needs staff (not really, he can keep the palace with the power of his mind. He likes to see his servants struggling) and Kitty can pity them as to be fascinated by everything else.

It is completely different from my old town.

A guard speaks to her. The man is wearing something akin to Ancient Egypt -no one in this constellation is ignoration about Knull´s preferences in fashion and Kitty knows this by all the books she read- while having some modern touches. The problem is not the fashion, but, his power each guard has a piece of Knull´s power and can kill easily.

Ah, a nice way to display I´m powerful do not fuck with me!

“I want to speak with Knull”

“Poor Soul!”

_________________________________________________________________________________________

And henceforth the guards-as they are walking a band of 4 with Kitty- keep exchange glares until they´re in the throne room. Knull strives a fearsome figure. The guards bow at him, never once looking into his eyes, but Knull does not seem to care or mind.

Now, Kitty is alone with Knull and now can gaze at his face, well, mask-everyone knows he´s an Outer God and he uses masks left and right and even if she couldn´t access this piece of information…she could sense this creature looking at him is not the real face.

“Uhm, a new soul in my palace” his voice is baritone and she detected an accent who is not familiar to Kitty. “Tell, Katherine Anne Pryde. Tell me what are you doing here…” he trails off smiling widely and is not inviting.

Uhm, you look like a buffon when you like that!

“You forget I can read minds!” he states amused for some reason. Kitty rolls her eyes. She hopes he does not want to brag about his powers. “Oh, I can see why you wouldn't fit in at the lovely cottage of Mr. Wilson…A strange woman…and impatient to the booth. Not a marriage prospect Mr. Wilson would like” Knull mocks lightly and Kitty huffs at this but takes a breath in and out to gain her patience. What´s the point in fighting him?

“I´m here to work for you” Kitty summarized nicely and Knull is peering at her soul. She has nothing to hide and if Knull wants to see her sex life, well, he should know she would make a great wife in that city (she had many prospects of marriages but they all bored her. It was a boring life in that city)

Knull does not mention her so-called promiscuity and how the men and women were throwing at her feet. “It seems you were popular…why went to my palace? What you think you would get here?”

“Answers? an interesting life? Gal is stagnated …I´m sure you must love this and use it to corrupt people, but, that city is completely lost in time. All the fashion, food and even way of speak are forever stuck in time” KNull chuckle darkly at her. Is part of her punishment and he has to admit is pretty light comparing what he usually endures.

“Answers? Oh, do tell me, pretty woman of Gal. What you´re seeking so desperately aside a good laid” and Kitty didn´t seem to be offended and to be fair Knull wasn´t offending. He couldn´t care less about sex…

“Where is Zaorva?” she asked and waits for his reply none. “I know you´re an Outer God. I know you must know her and know where she is…and if this breaks some rule among the Outer Gods…you´re free to kill me, but, I want to know where is Zaorva”

“Everywhere and nowhere” and he laughs as this counts as the truth. “But what I can do with you? A checky woman that makes fun of my mask…” the few humans that are watching the scene are closing the eyes as sure he will torture her to insanity. “Well, I like pretty things…So, stay in my palace, Kitty Pryde but don´t expect sex with me”

“Your loss!” she said and everyone wonders if this woman is as insane as he is. Knull calls his servants and order him to take

#grounded au #A prequel for another prequel #Caroline au #lovecraft Kurt #Zaorva #Zaorva does not give a fuck or does she #kurty yet #knull

[cavehags]

So mike schur fans really have an habit of ignoring fatphobia i guess huh i didn't know about parks n rec but b99 was soooo fatphobic (even though fans say there's no discrimination!!!1!1!1)

parks and rec is extremely anti-fat people. i watched quite a bit of b99 and all of parks, and i can say for sure that parks was a lot worse in this area. here are some highlights

a lot of jokes based on the fact that donna is ““““surprisingly”””” sexually desirable - because fat women are supposed to be unfuckable i guess? (and certainly racism is part of the “joke” here as well)

the same joke for jerry, whose wife is played by a thin supermodel. all their daughters are beautiful and thin. all the characters are constantly saying how flummoxed they are that jerry was able to “get” her, because why would someone like her want to be with a fat guy i guess (and also, women are objects!) 

jerry, a nice guy who treats everyone with respect, is the office scapegoat - constantly teased and subjected to humiliating physical gags like trying to fish a burrito out of a creek (presumably planning to EAT THE BURRITO THAT WAS IN THE CREEK???) and having his pants rip while everyone laughs

the citizens of pawnee are unilaterally presented as dumb, lazy, ignorant, selfish, and only interested in drinking sugary sodas that leslie has to wrest out of their fat hands (that’s the plot of one whole episode but it’s also a running thread that arises every time leslie deals with the public throughout the entire series)

lots of jokes about diabetes and how ugly people with diabetes are???

some of the series’ iconic “antagonists” are a burger chain (offensive logo at the link) and a candy corporation that sells 128-oz sodas and engages in political corruption. of course, the fat, ignorant citizens are too stupid to see the red flags so they adore these companies, being brainwashed by SUGAR and CALORIES. only leslie and ann, thin heroes, are smart enough to “save” the citizens

this one random gag where a woman says straight-up that her husband gaining weight ruined their marriage

the town motto is “first in friendship, fourth in obesity. nbc put this on bumper stickers.

[earlyandoftenpodcast]

(A rather unflattering portrait of a young Thomas Hutchinson)

In this episode, we begin the first of a two part look at the life and career of Thomas Hutchinson, one of the last governors of colonial Massachusetts, and one of the last politicians of the old-school Puritan style.

>>>Direct audio link<<<

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Transcript and Sources:

Hello, and welcome to Early and Often: The History of Elections in America. Episode 31: Thomas Hutchinson.

Over the last few episodes, we’ve followed the history of several New England colonies through the middle of the eighteenth century, seeing how their cultures changed and how a new way of thinking about politics emerged, in which partisanship and factionalism replaced deference and restraint.

Today, we’re going to zoom in even further on this change, by focusing in on the life and career of one Massachusetts politician in particular, Thomas Hutchinson. We’ve already briefly heard about Hutchinson back in Episode 27. He was the contemporary historian who wrote the first major history of Massachusetts.

He was also a career politician, who was in office pretty continuously from 1737 to 1774. So his career spans most of the period we’ve been discussing. And it also spans these two political mindsets, the deferential and the partisan.

When Hutchinson was first elected to the General Court, it was as an old school politician, in that quasi-oligarchic way, but as the years passed the ground slowly shifted under his feet and, as we’ll see, he became increasingly out of step with the citizens he was trying to serve. Although he kept climbing the political ladder, eventually becoming governor shortly before the American Revolution, he also became a hated figure within the colony. In particular, he remained loyal to the British empire even as public opinion was shifting violently in the opposite direction. In the end, the War of Independence overwhelmed him and he spent his last years in an unhappy exile in England.

But let’s start from the beginning.

Thomas Hutchinson was born in 1711. He was a descendant of Anne Hutchinson, that religious dissenter who had been expelled from Massachusetts in the 1630s and gone on to become one of the founders of Rhode Island. But her descendants didn’t live up to her legacy of rebellion.

Since then, the Hutchinson family had spent the last few generations as merchants, slowly climbing up the economic and social ladder. By the generation before Thomas, the family had done pretty well for themselves and his father served as a magistrate in the upper house of the General Court for 20 years. According to the historian Bernard Bailyn, “They were accumulators, down-to-earth, unromantic middle-men, whose solid, petty-bourgeois characteristics became steadily more concentrated in the passage of years until in Thomas, in the fifth generation, they reached an apparently absolute and perfect form.”

A studious child who preferred reading to playing, Thomas Hutchinson began attending Harvard at age 12, a few years younger than normal. His class had only 38 students in it. Obviously Harvard was a bit different than it is today. It was a finishing school for elite teenagers as much as anything.

In fact, that sort of elitism was built into Harvard. At the time, Harvard ranked its students by the "supposed dignity” of their families. So students who came from prominent families were ranked higher, which determined who ate first in the dining hall and other symbolic things like that. Like modern legacy admissions on steroids I guess. It was very clear who was on top. And according to historian Richard R. Beeman, “those rankings had real relevance to political success later in life: in the eighteenth century if a general court representative had ranked in the top half of his Harvard class, he had an 80 percent chance of emerging as a significant leader of the House.” Further evidence for that old deferential politics I keep talking about. Hutchinson was ranked third out of 38. So pretty good.

He graduated with a master’s degree after three years. Afterwards, he got to work further improving his family’s position. He was a hard worker and I suppose being a merchant came very naturally to him. According to Beeman, “By 1776 he had increased the original capital inherited from his father fifteenfold; he owned eight houses, two wharves and assorted lots and commercial properties in Boston, and a wonderful ‘country’ home on a hundred acres in Milton, Massachusetts”. So under Thomas, the Hutchinson family’s self-improvement continued at a rapid pace.

Like most people back then, his life was marred by personal tragedy. He had 12 children, but only 5 survived infancy, and his favorite daughter died of tuberculosis in her early 20s, while his beloved wife died in childbirth. He never remarried afterwards, which was unusual.

So, what sort of person was Hutchinson? In his own words, “My temper does not incline to enthusiasm.” And that sounds about right. He was bland, maybe somewhat priggish. According to Bailyn, almost none of his contemporaries even described his personality in any detail. Nothing beyond calling him a “very good gentleman” or “a young gentleman of exact virtue [and] a good natural sense”. While he was an influential guy, I don’t think his personality left a big mark on anyone. He dressed plainly, he didn’t have much of a sense of humor. Even his writing was dull, according to Bailyn. Hutchinson carefully edited everything he wrote to avoid any unnecessary provocations. Bailyn describes his account of the American Revolution as “one of the most impersonal, bland, and circumspect accounts of revolutionary events ever written by a participant”.

Well, it may have been bland, but apparently he was a good historian by the standards of the day. He was careful with his facts and he took pains to be fair to both sides of every issue, unlike almost all of his contemporaries.

But, all in all he was a very buttoned down guy. A petty-bourgeois Puritan merchant down to his core.

Though actually in religion he was no old school Puritan. He remained with the Puritans his whole life, but by disposition he preferred a modern, tolerant, rational church. He didn’t care too much about doctrine. In fact, he himself said that he was sympathetic to Anglicanism and that if he’d been born an Anglican he would’ve remained one. Puritanism for him was more a matter of tradition than anything else.

Maybe that’s not too surprising, since his openly acquisitive career as a merchant would have been a bit frowned upon in previous generations. I’ve been calling him a Puritan, but it might be more accurate to say post-Puritan. The rigidity and uprightness -- or self-righteousness, maybe -- of Puritanism remained, even as the religious fervor receded. He tried hard to make money, but he was no big spender. He tried hard to move up in political life, but he was full of self-doubt.

Hutchinson began his political career at a very young age. He was only 26 when he was elected to the lower house of the General Court as a representative from Boston. He was by no means a beloved politician, but he was respected for his “disinterestedness and integrity” in the words of one contemporary.

Back then, service in government was mostly seen as a chore. Political office didn’t pay very well, and traveling to the capital was often burdensome in both time and money. There were opportunities for corruption and nepotism, but the financial benefits were much smaller than today, especially relative to the other options at hand. Still, it would’ve been expected that someone like Hutchinson would do his duty.

He immediately joined the house’s leadership and just nine years later he was chosen as speaker, the highest position in the lower house. This was a much faster career path than most politicians would’ve been on. More typical would’ve been to start out as a selectmen or some other town official and stay at the local level for a while before being sent to Boston. It helped a whole lot to have been born into a prominent family like that. It almost guaranteed you a position in the assembly’s leadership if you wanted it.

It was expected that politicians would come from well-established families -- and the higher the office the more well-established the family should be. Plenty of politicians in the modern era come from prominent families of course -- think about the Kennedys or the Bushes -- but back then it was an expectation, something that was seen as actively desirable.

Money was part of it. It was thought that wealthier men would be more immune to corruption, especially since holding office didn’t pay well. In the words of one New Englander, “a clear Estate and Independency of Fortune is no unnecessary Qualification, as it frees a Man from those Temptations which attend a State of Poverty.”

And it was thought that poor men would not be able to command enough respect to rule, if they somehow got elected to high office. How could you expect anyone to be respectful towards a poor guy? After all, it was the rich who were clearly blessed by God.

Not every small town was filled to the brim with rich people, but it was still the relatively well-off who got elected. For instance, in New Hampshire, less than a third of the representatives elected were farmers. Most were merchants, lawyers, doctors, etc. Two thirds had estates worth at least 2000 pounds, and a third had estates worth 5000 pounds, which was considerable, for back then. In the three largest Connecticut towns, three quarters of the offices were held by men belonging to the richest 10%. Even for minor offices like highway surveyor, you were expected to be of the appropriate social class.

But it wasn’t just money that counted when determining which families or individuals belonged to the social elite. Education also mattered, although of course only the wealthy could afford to give their children a college education like Hutchinson had. You were also expected to be religiously devout and a generally upstanding citizen. The idea wasn’t just to vote for the rich guy, it was to vote for the guy who was outstanding in numerous ways, only one of which was directly about money.

But even if this attitude wasn’t per se oligarchical, it still meant that power was restricted to a small group. According to John Adams, “Go to every village of New England, and you will find that the office of justice of the peace, and even the place of representative, which has depended only on the freest election of the people, have generally descended from generation to generation, in three or four families at most.”

So although New Englanders supported popular government, that meant something very different to them than it did to us. Social elites were expected to be in charge and they were expected to be above the need to campaign or to directly appeal to voters. In fact, open ambition to run for office was itself seen as a sign that you were untrustworthy. Of course, in practice there was plenty of maneuvering and politicking, but candidates often tried to keep up the appearance of disinterest, saying stuff like, “Oh I have no interest whatsoever in holding office, but if called upon by my fellow citizens to do so, then I guess I have no choice in the matter.”

Related to this was the idea that you shouldn’t vote for someone because they agreed with you on policy, you should vote for the man with the highest character. The idea that voters should have a say in policy was objectionable, not desirable. It was assumed that popular opinion was too fickle for men to govern themselves directly. Rulers had to be willing to push back against public opinion and do the Right Thing when necessary for the greater good.

In fact, you might not even know what policies your representative supported. Sessions of the General Court were closed to the public, and no minutes were taken. They didn’t even record vote tallies until 1740. Before then they just said which bills passed and which didn’t. And after 1740, they still only recorded the votes on particularly important or contentious bills, like for the land bank, say. So it was almost impossible to even figure out how your representative was voting, which meant that there was no way to hold them accountable for their policy views, if they even had any clear views in the first place.

And politicians were expected to remain above factions and parties as well. You were instead supposed to exercise independent judgment in all things. That was also more of an ideal than something that could always be practiced, but it was still an important standard for the New Englanders. Basically, they wanted to vote for a patrician statesman rather than a grubby politician. And that was a pretty standard attitude in the other colonies as well, though of course the specifics varied from place to place.

Sometimes this deference could be taken to ridiculous lengths. For instance, the election sermon given in Connecticut in 1713 basically argued that elected governors had a divine right to rule. “In Elective States, where persons are Advanc'd by the Suffrage of others to Places of Rule, and Vested with Civil Power, the Persons Chusing give not the Power, but GOD. They are but the Instruments of Conveyance.” In the words of another Connecticut minister, to resist the will of the leadership was “as it were to wage War against GOD himself.” Even if they were elected, officials got their power from God and not the voters. Supposedly.

Hutchinson himself wasn’t quite that melodramatic. He was more of a pragmatist. What mattered in government was not the principles you adhered to, but whether or not you got good results. For example, even as he disapproved of much of old-school Puritanism, he admired the society which they had built in New England. But he was certainly happy to keep the people out of politics. If the people became too involved, then, in his words, “the interest of party prevails over all other considerations, virtue, religion, private friendship, and public good are all sacrificed to it.”

Undoubtedly Hutchinson had self-interested reasons for thinking that it was good that men like him should have unquestioned dominance, but it wasn’t just the elite who thought this way. Practically everyone did, at least nominally, though I’m sure you could find a thousand exceptions.

We’ve seen in the last few episodes how this elitism is being eroded, but it’ll linger on for a long time, well after independence. The Federalist party, which was the very first political party in America, and which had its base of support in New England, was the heir to this tradition. The Federalists weren’t believers in the sort of populist democracy that would come to define America. They were more old-school. And in fact that was their downfall, since they were unable to connect with voters the same way their less elitist opponents were, not unlike the Old Lights in Connecticut.

It was hard to keep up the pretence that your elected rulers were divinely ordained when they were so obviously bending over backwards to get your vote, and when the other party was constantly slinging mud at them. And when Americans were given free rein to vote for who they liked, the emphasis in politics naturally shifted from representatives as leaders following their own best judgment to leaders as servants of the people. What previous generations had seen as rightful dominance was seen by their children as burdensome if not tyrannical. As one later election sermon put it, “Societies were not formed for the sake of Rulers, but Rulers were made for the sake of Societies.”

You can still hear rhetorical echoes of the old colonial mindset from time to time, and I’m sure to some of my listeners it sounds rather appealing compared to the endless tumult of modern politics. But I don’t think it was ever more than metastable. It might last for a while, but sooner or later it was going to collapse into a modern democracy.

Anyway, back to Massachusetts in the 1740s. This was a time when the money supply was becoming a big issue again, one of the factors that was slowly eroding elite dominance.

Hutchinson, when writing about this period in his history of the colony, tended to downplay the importance of the currency. In his mind, the populist anger which was aroused by monetary policy was still less important than the petty factionalism within the elite. Other than monetary policy, the elite all still shared the same basic worldview, and as a result any differences between them could be bridged with a bit of diplomacy. The dispute over paper money was a partial exception to this rule, but it was only one issue. The factions disagreed occasionally, but they agreed on a whole lot more.

So most ot the time, politics was more about personality than ideology. How well did the governor get along with the members of the General Court? Was he competent? Was he a good negotiator? That was what mattered, at least in Hutchinson’s eyes. There’s probably something to be said for this view. I’ve naturally been emphasizing the conflicts within New England society, but all told things were pretty calm by world-historical standards and popular agitation was only ever intermittent.

However, “calm most of the time” does not mean “calm all of the time”, as Hutchinson was about to discover.

Now, Hutchinson, who was quite well versed in monetary policy, was a member of the hardline anti-paper money faction. He thought that paper money was necessarily some sort of scam. “Wretched”, he called it. And so he did what he could to block the creation of the land bank and so on, and even as a young man he was drawing up plans for how Massachusetts might go back to a gold and silver standard.

This put him very much at odds with his constituents in Boston. They were all for paper money and they issued instructions to Hutchinson that he should support paper money too. However, Hutchinson flatly refused, calling the instructions “iniquitous”. In his mind, he ought to be free to vote as he thought best. Voters trying to tell delegates how to act was a bad precedent.

But partly as a result, he lost his seat in 1739, though he got it back a few years later. Clearly paper money was an important enough issue that the old rules didn’t always apply. Voters were willing to punish Hutchinson, though only for a little while.

But Hutchinson didn’t learn his lesson. He kept right at it with his opposition to paper money. In fact, he was one of the principal reasons why Massachusetts ended its paper money experiment.

Back in episode 28, I somewhat briefly talked about how that happened. Let me go over it again, with a focus on Hutchinson this time. Basically, in 1749 the British had decided to give the colony some money in order to help pay for the costs of King George’s War, which had just ended. Hutchinson decided to use that money to buy back all the paper money that was in circulation, and return Massachusetts to a hard currency standard.

Now, this was still a mostly unpopular idea. Possibly opposition to paper money had grown over time, but it was still probably supported by a majority of voters and a majority of elected officials. So, in order to get this passed, Hutchinson had to use some underhanded tactics, and even then it took over a year.

He managed to get his biggest opponent expelled from the house, and then in order to get the bill passed he waited until most of the supporters of paper money had gone home for the winter. (Back then, attendance at the assembly was so low that it was often possible for the leadership to get bills passed simply by waiting until a different set of legislators happened to be in Boston and having them vote again until the leadership got the result it wanted. Yet another way in which New England politics remained unresponsive to popular pressure.)

In any case, even with these sorts of tricks, Hutchinson’s bill only passed by a vote of 40-37. But that was enough, and it soon became clear that paper money was on its way out. Needless to say, Hutchinson’s constituents were furious. He lost his next election very badly, winning only 200 votes out of 684 cast. Many other delegates lost their seats as well.

Surely this humiliation -- and Hutchinson certainly saw it as a humiliation -- would be enough to get him to change his ways, to adapt somewhat to popular pressure. Nope, not at all. He had lost his election, but that next year he was appointed to the council to make up for the loss. He was out of electoral politics, but not out of politics altogether. And of course he promptly became the most important member of the upper house. So for Hutchinson, the loss actually turned out to be another step up.

He had friends in high places, who made sure that his career remained on the right track. He was a favorite of several of the governors, because of his opposition to paper money and his abilities in wrangling the legislature into doing his bidding. He was also an important figure in helping to coordinate the war effort during the French and Indian War in the 1750s. Because of his usefulness, he kept ascending the political ladder, often holding several offices at once. He became lieutenant governor in 1758 and chief justice of the highest court in Massachusetts in 1760.

But even from those new, unelected positions, he couldn’t remain entirely insulated from popular pressure, as we’ll see next time. Change was coming to Massachusetts. A nationalist, ideological fervor was about to sweep across the country, and Thomas Hutchinson was no fan of ideology.

The historian William Pencak compares Hutchinson to Edmund Burke. If you’re not familiar with him, Edmund Burke was one of the founders of modern conservatism. He was a big opponent of the French Revolution, and he wrote a famous attack on how the revolutionaries were attempting to overthrow ancient tradition in the name of their abstract belief in natural rights. Burkean conservatism is above all else about caution towards change and skepticism towards grand theories of society.  

Hutchinson had a similar attitude, although he never expressed it as fully as Burke did. He favored compromise and was against pushing principles to extremes. He favored liberty for the colonists, but not if it threatened British rule. He favored British rule, but he wanted the British to govern the colonies with a light touch that preserved as much liberty as possible. While the other colonists were busy trying to get one principal to prevail over the other, Hutchinson was busy trying to smooth over the differences. To him, principals were important, but it was better to get 75% of what you wanted, rather than risk a war to get everything.

But this attitude was, from the 1760s onwards, increasingly out of step with the times. The colonists wanted to establish firm limits on British authority, while the British wanted to show that their authority was unlimited. In such an environment where theory mattered more than practicality, compromise was becoming impossible. To Hutchinson, this was a disaster, but there was little he could do to stop it, no matter how hard he tried. And in the end, the fires of revolution would destroy him.

Next episode, we’ll continue the story of Thomas Hutchinson, and see the first flames of that revolution rise up around him. So join me next time on Early and Often: The History of Elections in America.

If you like the podcast, please rate it on iTunes. You can also keep track of Early and Often on Twitter, at earlyoftenpod, or read transcripts of every episode at the blog, at earlyandoftenpodcast.wordpress.com. Thanks for listening.

Sources:

The Ordeal of Thomas Hutchinson by Bernard Bailyn

The Varieties of Political Experience in Eighteenth Century America by Richard R. Beeman

From Puritan to Yankee: Character and the Social Order in Connecticut, 1690-1765 by Richard L. Bushman

Voting in Provincial America: A Study of Elections in the Thirteen Colonies 1689-1776 by Robert J. Dinkin

Thomas Hutchinson and the Province Currency by Malcolm Freiberg

America’s Burke: The Mind of Thomas Hutchinson by William Pencak

Power, Influence, and Status: Leadership Patterns in the Massachusetts Assembly 1740-1755 by Robert M. Zemsky

[strangelock221b]

Between Me and Home, ch 1

Just the first draft for now. The little convo about Richard wearing all-black I blatantly stole from a t-shirt. It was too good to pass up.

Tagging @sobeautifullyobsessed and @glitterkitty4ever so they don’t miss this.

While some European monarchs were little more than living reminders of a system long-past, England’s monarch was still the richest and most powerful person in the kingdom, and they never let anyone forget it. No sitting on the sidelines while Parliament did the real governing, they both reigned and governed. Parliament was necessary for keeping the monarch aware of the needs of England’s people, but the monarch always had the final say. Good monarchs were beloved while corrupt monarchs were usually overthrown, otherwise the people of England had to wait for the monarch’s heir to succeed and pray the heir would be better.

With all of the power and wealth at the monarch’s fingertips, it should be of no surprise that even in the 21st Century, people were still fighting long and bloody civil wars to get and keep the crown. The crown currently lay on the head of Edward IV, a Plantagenet of the Yorkist side of the family. As he had taken the crown by force from his gentle, ill-suited Lancastrian cousin Henry VI, Edward was desperate that his sons would inherit peacefully.

He had no idea what his younger brother Richard, Duke of Gloucester, had planned.

Richard reached out to take his turn on the chessboard. His close friend Henry Stafford, Duke of Buckingham had just emailed him a turn and Richard knew exactly how to counter that. If only obstacles in life were as easy to overcome as those on a chessboard. The mantle clock chimed seven, reminding him that he needed to make an appearance at Edward’s party.

It’s Christmas Eve and after all of the strife, the peace brought by Edward, popular, beloved Edward, makes it feel like summer in December. He smirked. The mild weather may also have a part in that. Our enemies are long-dead except for that witch Margaret of Anjou, and she’s safely back in France. Instead of making war, everyone’s busy making love. Edward’s brood alone grows yearly. Rumor has it he has taken a mistress or three. After all the trouble he went to for Elizabeth, he’s a fool if those rumors are true. Richard rolled his eyes. What am I saying? Of course the rumors are true.

He pulled on an undershirt one-handedly. Though it took him twice as long to dress as it did men with two good arms, he insisted on dressing himself like any able-bodied adult. Edward can have any woman he wants, but I can’t get a single woman to look at me favorably, let alone a harem like his. Nature cheated me of any handsomeness I was owed from my parents. It even cheated me of a full nine months in my mother’s womb. Perhaps if I hadn’t been premature, I might have had the full use of both arms. Mother insists that my birth was her most painful and she has never forgiven me for it. Anne thought Mother felt guilty for whatever part she played in my condition, but I doubt that is the case. Thoughts of Anne brought his mood down farther, as they always did these days. He hadn’t seen or heard from his former best friend for almost fifteen years. The last he heard, she was still living in exile in France.

A black silk button-down shirt was next. Richard smiled to himself as he remembered a time he was asked why he always wore black.

“I’m going to a funeral,” he’d replied.

“Whose?” the man had asked.

“Wait.”

This incessant peace is driving me mad. Without war to occupy my time or a lover to occupy my heart, I’ll do what I must. Since there are no Lancastrians left, I’ll wage war on my fellow Yorkists. I convinced the court psychic to tell Edward his most dire prophecy – that Edward will be murdered by someone close to him with the initial G. He smiled a bit. Amazingly, Ed didn’t think of me, he thought of George. I’ll have to make sure that psychic only tells Edward good prophecies from now on. The last thing I need is for him to get suspicious of me as well. Of course, I will tell George that Elizabeth hates him but that he can trust me completely.

As soon as he entered the dining hall, conversations around him died. Used to such a reception, he made his way to the head table, where Edward was drinking and eating like there was no tomorrow. There really will be no tomorrow for him if he keeps this up. The court doctor just throws up his hands whenever someone enquires after the king’s health. Too much wine and meat, both red of course, and not enough exercise.

He bowed to his brother then pasted on a smile for his hated sister-in-law and despised nephews before taking a seat at the far end of the table. A servant offered him a glass of wine and he asked for water instead. Despite how much red wine helped to ease his chronic pain, he preferred to keep a clear head around his family.

George smiled at him, already three sheets to the wind. “Anne’s in town, did I mention that?”

Despite his thoughts grinding to a complete halt at the news, Richard schooled his features to hide his shock. “I didn’t know she was even in England,” he said casually.

The Duke of Clarence grinned triumphantly. “That’s because I didn’t want you to know, Dick.”

He ground his teeth at the hated nickname. Coming from almost everyone, it sounded like an insult. Raising his glass, he smiled tightly. “You’ve actually managed to keep something from me and my spies. Well done, George.”

George raised his own glass in turn before draining it. “She’s been living with me and Isabel for the past three years. For her safety, of course.”

Richard raised an eyebrow. “So, her vast inheritance has nothing to do with it?”

“Well … she does need someone to keep an eye on her finances. Women are horrible with money.”

I’m not going to regret your death in the least. “Why is she in London?”

“She said she wanted to pay her respects. She’ll be going to Henry’s grave tomorrow night.”

#between me and home #richard iii modern au #the hollow crown: the wars of the roses fanfic

[keywestlou]

ANNE FRANK "QUARANTINED" 761 DAYS

Slowly American society is being pushed into a quarantine situation. Considered by some to be necessary to protect against a continuing spread of coronavirus.

Most by law, edict or order. Some by personal decision.

I am one remaining in by choice. I refer to it as self quarantine. At 84 and having a few physical problems, I felt it better to do what I could to protect myself. Better safe than sorry!

There are those in history who have self quarantined for political reasons rather than medical. One where death was a possibility.

People are beginning to complain about having to remain at home. I don’t understand. Disease driven death confronting the world in the face at the moment.

Anne Frank suffered from a possible death consequence during World War II.

Place quarantine in proper perspective.

Anne Frank was a young girl who spent 761 days in an attic hiding from the Nazis in Germany during World War II. She and 6 others lived in 450 square feet.

They were required to remain still and quiet by day. Other people in the building. During the evening, they had to move quietly.

The key to their salvation was to remain quiet and undiscovered. Thereby, living. If caught, death inevitable.

Those who have visited the attic have a clear recollection of squeaky floorboards. The reason no one could move by day.

Our sequestrations will in no way be as mentally tortuous nor as long as Anne Frank’s was. Coronavirus should be well gone sometime in 2 years. We will then be out and about. Anne Frank never got the opportunity to be out and about. Once caught, all that faced her was a short trip to the gas chamber.

Complain not, my friends!

There are those who refuse to believe coronavirus is a real problem. The know it alls. Many Trump supporters. Persons who believe the whole thing is a hoax.

What percentage of the U.S. society? There are statistics, polls, etc. All over the place. Best I can determine, from 31 to 62 percent. Not very dependable numbers. Whatever, the figure is substantial.

These same persons refuse to follow the practical rules for fighting/thwarting the disease. Many will infect others.

May the doubters be the first to meet their Maker!

Trump went on a tirade at the Task Force public TV appearance yesterday. He defecated on NBC’s Peter Alexander for asking what Trump considered an improper question arising out of poor journalism.

The President came like a bolt out of the blue. Hit hard! Forgot his manners.

Edmund Burke said about manners: “Manners are what vex or soothe, corrupt or purify, exalt or debase, barbarize or refine us, by a constant, steady, uniform, insensible operation, like that of the air we breathe in.”

Donald ain’t got no manners!

Some coronavirus observations.

New York has closed down “non-essential” businesses. Liquor stores not listed as non-essential. Ergo, liquor stores considered “essential.” They will remain open.

The beach closing situation in Florida a shame. Mostly spring breakers on the beach. A good number of adults also, however.

It took a while for Florida to close the beaches. Reminded me of the movie Jaws. The town refused to close the beach for a “little” fish because the town merchants did not want to lose precious tourist dollars.

Poor Italy. Wow! The beating!

Six hundred twenty seven died yesterday. In 1 day.

The hospitals are overwhelmed. So far, 47,021 persons have been infected, 4,035 have died.

Congress is going back and forth re how to pay people who are out of work. Complex and timely ideas suggested.

The U.K. has the same problem. I consider Boris Johnson a nut. Similar in every respect to Trump.

However, Johnson has come up with way to pay employees that seems simple. Pay those employees unable to work 80 percent of their usual salary. To a maximum of $2,875 per month. Retain them on the payroll. Whether the employer is open for business or not.

The plan would provide payment for the first 30 days. Then to be looked at again.

Starbucks. In the U.S. and Canada.

Those company operated are closing their doors. Only drive through service will be available. Sixty percent of U.S. Starbucks are company operated.

Reusable cups will not be permitted.

In the event things continue going bad and employees have to remain home, Starbucks will pay their full salaries for 30 days.

It has become obvious after 3 years of Trump as President that he is expert in everything. He knows, he feels, he understands. The fact he is full of horse manure is immaterial.

His most recent exposure of brilliance involves support of 2 drugs that are unproven as a cure for coronavirus. The 2 are presently used in helping those with malaria. They are untested as to coronavirus.

Trump spoke as to the 2 drugs possibly being cures for the virus. He was all excited. Spouting false encouragement.

Dr. Fauci had to take the microphone. He said the drugs were only anecdotalevil. Till properly tested, not sure the drugs would be effective.

Dr. Trump v. Dr. Fauci. Who do you believe?

The stock market dropped another 800 points yesterday.

Moving on.

May Johnson appears to have been an attractive belle of the ball type back in 1896 in Key West. On this day, she and a Mrs. Rowen had a tour and lunch on the USS Amphritite which was in port. A row boat had to take them out to the vessel.

They were the sole guests of the Captain during the tour and lunch. The lunch consisted of fish and mutton chops.

At the end of her diary for the day, she described the day as GRAND! LOVELY!

Mark Twain was in Key West this day in 1902. He stopped on his way to Cuba.

I close with Key West’s beloved President Harry Truman.

The President left for Washington this day in 1951 after a 3 week vacation at the Little White House.

The thought occurs. Truman was a President. Trump is not. If Donald were a reader of history, he might have learned some things from Washington, Lincoln, both Roosevelts, Truman, Kennedy, and Reagan. Even Obama. However, Trump’s dislike for Obama is so great he is blinded as to the good Obama did. He continues to tear down Obama’s successes one at a time.

Enjoy your day!

  ANNE FRANK “QUARANTINED” 761 DAYS was originally published on Key West Lou

[hannahindie]

Party like it’s Pawnee, Indiana! Follower Celebration

jellGuys. GUYS. I’ve hit 400 followers. I am totally floored that in the three and a half months that I’ve been writing, I have gained so many amazing people. You guys are the best. And because you’re the best, I want to see what you can do with those creative brains of yours! So I propose a challenge!

 A PARKS AND REC WRITING CHALLENGE.

 Parks and Rec is one of my favorite tv shows, and I’m pretty sure if Ron Swanson and Dean ever met it would be a glorious day. Below the cut  are 45 Parks and Recs quotes and rules for the challenge. I look forward to seeing what you guys come up with!!!

The Guidelines

-Reader inserts are preferable. If you would like to do something different that’s fine, but please no Wincest or Samifer. If you’re into that kinda thing that’s a-okay, but for this particular challenge, I’d rather you didn’t.

-You don’t have to be following me, but I would love it if you did! Because friends and stuff.

-Please send me the person’s name and the quote number. For ex. “Ron Swanson, number 5.” If you know who you’re writing for, please let me know that as well. If not, that’s okay.

-Supernatural only for this challenge, please!

-There’s not a hard due date, although I’d like to get everything in by September 3, just so I can get a masterlist put together. That seems like a long time, but I’m busy and you’re probably busy, so I want to give you plenty of time.

-If your fic is over 500 words, pleeeeeease use the “Keep Reading” option.

-Anyone can participate, but if you are going to write something NSFW, please only do so if you’re 18 or older. If I can tell you aren’t, I will not reblog it. I’m not trying to be mean, but you precious angel babies need to stay precious angel babies for a little longer, and I’m not gonna participate in corrupting you.

-Write any genre you want! I love all kinds, and I like to make people laugh and also destroy their souls with angst, so give me your best shot. The only thing I ask is that if there are adult themes, to please note that in your warnings/Authors Note.

-Tag me! @hannahindie If I don’t respond within 48 hours (this can include a favorite, comment, or reblog), then please send me an ask or a message. Tumblr tags can be pretty finicky, and I don’t want to miss anything!

-Use #HanCelebratesWithPawnee in the first five tags when you post.

 If you have any questions, please let me know!!

  Ron Swanson

 “Any dog under 50 pounds is a cat, and cats are useless.”

“Clear alcohols are for rich women on diets”. 

“I’m not interested in caring about people.

“There’s only one thing I hate more than lying: skim milk. Which is water that is lying about being milk.” 

Ron: “I’m hungry.” Leslie: “Okay, well don’t be such a baby. I cooked you some bacon for a trail snack.” Ron: “I ate it already.” Leslie: “What?” Ron: “I could smell it in your purse before I even parked my car. And now it’s gone, and I hate everything.”

“Just give me all the bacon and eggs you have. Wait…wait. I worry what you just heard was: Give me a lot of bacon and eggs. What I said was: Give me all the bacon and eggs you have. Do you understand?”

 Leslie Knope

“Calzones are pointless. They’re just pizza that’s harder to eat. No one likes them. Good day, sir.

“I stand by my decision to avoid salad and other disgusting things.

“You know my code, hoes before bros. Uteruses before duderuses. Ovaries before broveries."

“The only thing I’ll be waving is your decapitated head on a stick in front of your mother!"

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m about to endorse ten beers into my mouth, ‘cause this has been an incredibly stressful evening."

Doctor: “Are you two a couple?” ”No. Tragically, we are both heterosexual."

“Everything hurts and I’m dying."

“I’m fart, and I’m smunny, and I’m a prize."

 Ann Perkins

“Jogging is the worst. I know it keeps you healthy, but God, at what cost?”

Ann: “Oh, I have a good idea!” Leslie: “What? Ann: “Why don’t you ask him about his penis?”

“3...2...1...and my shift’s over. What the fuck is your problem?!“

“This seems like the kind of place a Ska band would go to shoot heroin.”

“Right now my gut is telling me we're going to listen to Mariah Carey the whole way home.”

Leslie: “See there's more things to look at on the internet other than naked guys, Ann.” Ann: What?

 Ben Wyatt

“I don’t even have time to tell you how wrong you are. ...Actually, it’s going to bug me if I don’t.”

“I feel great, I ran a 5K this morning.” ”Really?” ”No, I threw up in the shower.

“Stick to the list and you’ll do great. I have total faith in you. ...There’s like a 30% chance they’ll both die.”

“Mr. Feinstein, with all due respect...You are a major dick.”

“I have been kinda tense lately. Just thinkin’ about the new Star Wars sequel”

 Andy Dwyer

“I have no idea what I’m doing, but I know I’m doing it really, really well.”

“I’m fine. It’s just that life is pointless, and nothing matters, and I’m always tired.” @deanssweetheart23

“When I get bummed out, I take my shirt off because the bad feelings make me feel sweaty.”

“I tried to make ramen in the coffee pot and broke everything.”

“I’m not crying, okay? I’m just allergic to jerks."

 April Ludgate

“Yea...I’m trying to find a reason to be annoyed by it, but I’m coming up empty.”

“But then I remembered alcohol existed.”

“I declare that everything that you are saying is stupid.”

“I guess I kind of hate most things, but I never really seem to hate you.”

“I wanted to make fun of stupid people while I get drunk, my two true passions.”

 Chris Traeger

“If I keep my body moving, and my mind occupied at all times, I will avoid falling into a bottomless pit of despair.”

“I am 100% certain that I am 0% sure of what I’m going to do.”

“My anxiety has kept me up for over 50 hours.”

“My body is finely tuned, like a microchip. And the flu is like a grain of sand. It could literally shut down the whole system.”

“I think you’ve got several options. They’re all terrible...but you have them.”

 Miscellaneous

“I have never taken the high road. But I tell other people to ’cause then there’s more room for me on the low road. - Tom Haverford

“Pawnee is the opposite of hip. People in this town are just now getting into Nirvana. I don’t have the heart to tell them what’s gonna happen to Kurt Cobain in 1994.” - Tom Haverford

“No, no, no, that’s way too much responsibility for me.” - Jean-Ralphio Saperstein

“Yes, I’m a hunter. And it’s “you” season.” -Donna Meagle

Forever Tags: @trexrambling @pinknerdpanda  @wheresthekillswitch @emilywritesaboutdean @arryn-nyxx @emptywithout @escabell @charliebradbury1104 @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes  @deanssweetheart23  @canadianjelly @super-not-naturall @aubreyreadsstuff @dean-winchesters-baby @melissaj616 @fandomismyspiritanimal @keepcalmandcarryondean @assbutt-still-in-hell @owllover123 @rosie-winchester @amionthetumbler @duubaduu @hiimaprofessionalfangirl @goldenolaf25 @authoressskr

#HanCelebratesWithPawnee #400 followers #MUCH EXCITEMENT #I can't wait to see your words #yesssssss

[ashenpages]

Current Fic Ideas & Emoji Voting Key

Quick disclaimer that I’m a romance writer in all aspects of the term, so most of my fics will contain mature content. Engage at your own risk, you know the rules, you’re responsible for curating your own experience of the internet, blah blah blah. This post serves as a current mock up of fic ideas I’m either actively working on or considering working on next. You can drop me an ask about any of them, or just vote via the emoji combo I’ve assigned them.

Voting lets me know you’re excited about an idea and makes it more likely I’ll actually work on it. You can vote anytime, there’re no deadlines or winner announcements, just me gauging your interest by what I see in my ask box most often.

You can also ask me about the original stuff I’m working on currently. The current WIPs are Medusa centric and the emoji for them is: 🐍

- Lupin: 🤑🤠💍  These are all oneshot ideas, between 5-15K each. If you want to vote for a specific idea, send me the emojis and the number of the idea. 

Lupin, Jigen, and Goemon always play rock-paper-scissors after a big heist to decide who’ll give the group a striptease, and who will get showered with money. Based on a piece of fanart that is basically this sequence of events in a 4koma (except in their version Jigen loses and in mine, it’s Goemon). (written, just needs editing)

Zenigata cuffs Lupin four times, and Lupin steals his heart. Very NSFW conclusion. Zenigata is the most caring lover you’ll ever find. Lupin is as thirsty as usual and twice as intense. (written, just needs editing)

Jigen protects Lupin from poison darts during a treasure hunt in an Aztec temple, and Lupin nurses him back to help--forcibly, since Jigen is a horrible patient. Born from my desire to spoil Jigen and talk about what ridiculous domestic husbands these two are. (WIP)

Born from the idea that Goemon and Zenigata probably couldn’t be an item, my brain decided to come up with how I could write for them. Goemon’s teaching an ikebana class as part of his training, and Zenigata shows up as a student on forced recreational leave for his health from the ICPO. Zenigata wins the samurai’s heart through flowers. But what happens when Lupin and Jigen find out? (Only good sexy things, I promise. These beans are in a healthy polycule--be gay, do crimes)

Trans!Lupin and Trans!Jigen premise: Jigen cares for Lupin after the master thief has top surgery, since Jigen has Been There and Done That. Caring, sweet, and a little sexy. Lupin is a much better patient than Jigen.

- Sonic Vampire Novelist Coffee Shop AU: 📚☕💐 

Shadow is an immortal vampire who has seen the world change for the worse too many times. These days it feels like he only lives for his coffee dates with Rouge, another immortal who loves each new era they encounter, warts and all. He has to admit that the book series she got him into speaks to him, at least. If someone in this era can understand him without meeting him, it can’t all be bad. But he hardly expected the goofy blue barista at the new coffee place to understand him the way those books do.

This is a novel length romcom romp with some big feelings about what it means to watch as things change, grow, and die. Expect lots of Big gothic feelings from this one, emotionally charged kissing, and overly-adoring sex. But also expect shenanigans from everyone in the coffee shop, which include Rouge, Amy, Tails, Knuckles, Cream, and more.

- Sonic Blazamy: 💖🌸💎

Amy Rose has been in love with Sonic for a while.

Or has she?

When the Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Shadow, and Silver are trapped as the fuel sources for Doctor Eggman’s newest evil scheme, Amy teams up with Blaze, Rouge, and Cream to save them. With Sonic out of the picture and Amy fulfilling his role, was she ever really in love with him? Or did she just want to be like him?

This is a novel length epic romance with lots of competent women and lots of romantic Blazamy content. Expect flowery hopes and dreams, badass self-actualization, and glancing hand touches that give way to cuddly and sweet sex.

- Persona 5: 🗡🍛☕

After bringing down the Metaverse twice, Ryuji didn’t think graduating high school and figuring out what to do with his life would be so hard. Akira’s back in town, and the gang’s more-or-less all in Tokyo, but everyone else seems to have a plan while Ryuji just floats. How’s he supposed to change the world when he’s not a phantom thief anymore?

This is a novel length fic that addresses how powerless one can feel being just one person in the face of all the corrupted systems and bigotry the world has to offer. It’s about holding on to what you believe in, working through the doubt, and fighting your way to a better tomorrow with the power you do have. The whole gang is queer, featured relationships being Mako x Ann, Ryuji x Akira, Futaba & Yusuke as platonic life partners. Akira is polyamorous and omnisexual, Futaba’s asexual and aromantic while Yusuke is demisexual and very romantic, Makoto’s a lesbian, Ann and Ryuji are bi, and Haru’s pansexual, demisexual, and aromantic. They’re one giant band of queer Phantom Thieves, and even if they’re not really doing the Metaverse thing anymore, they’re still gonna save the world!

Also, I’m gonna make Makoto not a cop. That super didn’t age well. Zenkichi and his boss can work on making them better/abolishing them for other better organizations.

- Hades Game: ❤️‍🔥💀

Oneshot. I just really need to elaborate on the threesome you can have with them in-game, okay? Healthy and canon poly relationships are so few and far between, so often I have to do a ton of groundwork to explain why it’s working in the fic, but NOT WITH THESE KIDS!

Get ready for Meg helping Zag and Than be better at expressing their feelings, lots of kissing, and probably pegging.

- Castlevania Animation Trevor/Sypha/Alucard: 🧛🏰🛌 

Castlevania gave Alucard a threesome last season, and I just really need S4 to give me him being taken care of by his partners. They’re probably not going to give it to me, so I’ll need to do it myself. This is just an everybody loves Alucard oneshot, with the gang’s signature banter (to an extent), Sypha being sexy, and Trever being remarkably sincere. This fic is gonna feel like that Ann Hathaway picture with Trevor kissing Alucard and Sypha holding the end of Trevor’s whip while she leans her head on Alucard’s shoulder adoringly.

- Devil May Cry Nico/Lady/Trish: 💋✨😈 

Nico’s gay, okay? Like really, really gay. And Lady’s bi and not into men who make her pay bills, but very into women who make amazing guns for her and demonesses with hearts who fight by her side. Trish is ace, but loves people and is pretty attached to Lady at this point. Plus it’s cute when Lady blushes and says nice things like they’re insults. I don’t have super solid ideas for them yet, and I envision these more like a polycule where Lady’s with Nico and with Trish but they’re not with each other more than seeing it as a threesome, but who knows what might happen. This is probably 1-2 oneshots depending on ideas, but might turn into a series of oneshots if people are interested (or I can’t control myself and inspiration strikes).

- Post FMA:B Blind Roy & No Alchemy Ed: 👀👑🙏

This is actually an old novel-length fic I wrote ages ago and didn’t post that didn’t turn out well because I was new to writing sex when I first wrote it. The plot is good, and is all about Roy learning to work with his blindness to reclaim his ambition of being Fuhrer and changing the system to something that actually cares for its people. He and Ed reconnect, fall into bed, and both set about working through their respective traumas about being “useless” having lost their sight/alchemy. They go to Xing as an ambassadorial party to offer Amestris’s collaboration on Al and May’s Alkahestry experiments--and uncover a plot that might threaten both kingdoms.

- Age of Calamity continuity Mipha x Revali: 🦚🐟💘

The first time Revali noticed Mipha, it was in the heat of battle. She stole his mark, taking them down with a flurry of quick blows from her spear. Violence rained from her like water--and then she healed him on her way to her next battle. No questions, no conditions, just pure kindness. The usual need to measure himself against those around him was quiet in her wake. And Revali couldn’t understand it. But how to get to know more about her? A fish and bird may fall in love, but where would they live?

This fic could be a oneshot or novel length depending on how far down the hole I fall. I need it to cover time, but it could be done in linked vignettes or with actually covering events in detail. I may elect to do a oneshot just to get it done and out of my system faster. So much fic to write, so little time.

Expect trans!Revali, polyamorous Zoras, scary competent Mipha, songbird Revali, love confessions that are made up entirely of berating Link for not loving Mipha the way she wants him to, and breaking these characters a little outside of their assigned roles in BotW and Age of Calamity. Background Link x Zelda, and Urbosa x Zelda’s Mom.

- Epic desert romance about Urbosa and Zelda’s mom: 🏜🏝⚡

I just think Urbosa should kiss women and Zelda’s mom should get more development and maybe a name or something. Also, lightning imagery/metaphors/play.

It also went way over my head that Riju wasn’t Urbosa’s daughter the first time I played BotW, so now I want to write about the Gerudo queen who refused to produce an heir. The Gerudo are fascinating and have a very interesting cutlure, but I think it could be examined from a nonbinary perspective that rejected pregnancy and wanting to find a husband. Not in like a hateful way, but in a way that examines if that’s really right for everyone. There’s that shop in town that sells Voe armor, after all. Maybe finding a husband and having children isn’t something you have to do if you don’t want to. And Urbosa really doesn’t want to.

#sonic the hedgehog #Lupin III #persona 5 #Devil May Cry #Hades Game #Castlevania #fma #Breath of the Wild #age of calamity

[tarahighschool]

Stratford

           On Thursday morning, the students were free to sleep in or to explore the town, and in the early afternoon we walked from our respective B&Bs to the theatre. Last year, there was no Shakespeare playing while we were in Stratford; this visit more than made up for it! This year’s theme for the Royal Shakespeare Company is the decadence, politics, power play and corruption of Rome, and the season includes Julius Caesar, Antony and Cleopatra, Coriolanus and Titus Andronicus in repertory in a shared space with one set designer for all.

           Two intense tragedies are a lot for one day, and the students are to be commended for their attention and diligence. We were all captivated by Julius Caesar, a powerful production directed by Angus Jackson. The ensemble was strong, and actor Alex Waldman delivered a particularly stunning performance as Brutus. After a good meal at an Italian restaurant, we went back for round two, Antony and Cleopatra. Betsy and Laurel thought that the actor playing Cleopatra, Josette Simon, portrayed the mature, seductive and manipulative queen of Egypt with a degree of perfection that they had not seen before. The students did not relate to her in the same way, and overall they did not enjoy the performance nearly as much as the adaptation that they had seen at The Public Theater in New York in ninth grade. We were impressed to hear how much they remembered of that performance and how objectively and intelligently they were able to compare and contrast the two experiences.

           While in Stratford, we went on tours of the Shakespeare houses and had free time to explore the town, feed the multitude of swans on the Avon, chase pigeons (Sam nearly fell in the river trying to catch one), journal and sleep. We ate full English breakfasts (that made lunch unnecessary for some) and delicious English, Indian, Italian and Thai food for dinners. The trip to Anne Hathaway’s cottage left some of the students wishing that they could live in such a house, and our time at Mary Arden’s house was idyllic – a warm sunny day to enjoy the farm, the animals, some of the Renaissance children’s outdoor games and, of course, the falconer. This year avian influenza had caused some of the birds to be secluded inside, and when Talia, the huge owl that many of our students have been photographed with in the past, actually got her freedom to fly in a show, she went to the top of the roof and would not come down. So there was a smaller and less experienced owl for the display, and the falcon was not flying, but the falconer and his wife are entertaining and interesting to watch no matter the circumstances; some students stayed to watch the show twice. They also enjoyed the archery that was open for guest participation.

           Our final performance in Stratford was The Hypocrite, which portrayed a prominent family of the city of Hull and their contributions to the English Civil War. One might not think that that would be a funny subject, but in the hands of playwright Richard Bean it truly met the definition of farce, a comic dramatic work using buffoonery and horseplay and typically including crude characterization and ludicrously improbable situations. And this was farce at its best – completely hilarious. Betsy was not sure whether to watch the play or the Tara students watching the play! Heidi laughed continuously from beginning to end. Here is Teaghan’s review of this outlandish and fascinating piece of theatre: “Everyone who knows me knows that I love a good laugh, and, well, gravity was unkind to me in that play three or four times. Rhys and I hit each other on the leg more times than there were seats in the theatre. At intermission we had to stay in our seats and let the tears stop flowing before we could go out. It was brilliant, riddled with scandalous British insults, and the timing of every joke absolutely perfect. It was a dangerous thing to allow a class with a sense of humor like ours to see The Hypocrite. We are still talking about it a week later!”

           As we drove away, Carlos remarked how much he loved Stratford. He said that it was the perfect size, a small town with so much to do, and that he felt a strong sense of community there, a natural mix of residents, tourists, actors and all those connected with the theatre. He loved every aspect of it, and he wants to return and do everything he did over again – and more. While looking forward to the next place we were going, he was sad to leave. That was the sentiment generally held by all the students. All in all, we had a great three days in Stratford.

[ulyssesredux]

Scylla and Charybdis

Ikey Moses? But Ann Hathaway? —It seems so, there was misconduct with one stone; MOTHER GROGAN, a quizzer looks at me.

He is a boldfaced Stratford wench who tumbles in a negative light.

Moore is Martyn's wild oats. Adhuc.

Lapwing.

Fox News Sunday with Chris Wallace at 10:00 A.M. to talk about the disaster known as ObamaCare!

Dost love thy man? Alarmed face asks me. —But Ann Hathaway?

We’ve lost jobs and Ohio lost 400,000 e-mails? Did he?

Where is your brother? You are a delusion, said he would do a hit ad against me. Amazingly, with its mole cinquespotted.

No sir smile neighbour shall covet his ox or his maidservant or his maidservant or his maidservant or his manservant or his maidservant or his jackass.

Big crowd, great enthusiasm! He kills the real message and envelope into a pocket but keened in a landslide, I would have lived to do. Very sad that a man's worst enemies shall be.

Crooked Hillary and Obama on JOBS and SAFETY!

In November, I will be greatly strengthened and our inner cities have been drawing very big is happening in the porch of a deal. James Stephens is doing poorly and like everywhere else in U.S. history!

Composition of place. Word is that life ran very high in those days was as rare as a Trump WIN giving all of the two Iowa police who were flying the Mexican flag.

On.

Upon my word it makes my blood boil to hear more, ALL of which it is sad!

—just another dishonest politician. People do not know me. But all those twenty years what do you suppose poor Penelope.

Smile Cranly's smile. This way Please, sir Voluble, dutiful, he came near, drew a salary equal to that spot of earth where he has not a change agent, just released my financial disclosure forms, am I by memory because under everchanging forms. Cordelia.

I can’t tell the truth.

Thank you. Did you hear Miss Mitchell's joke about Moore and Martyn? Knowing no vixen, walking lonely in the economy when he went and died on her, raging that he stood aside.

Our Native American heritage are on a bend sable a spear or steeled argent, honorificabilitudinitatibus, dearer than his glory of greatest shakescene in the months that followed his father's one. Love that dare not speak their name, a penny a time.

Crooked Hillary Clinton, perhaps I am very proud to stand shoulder-to-play at State Department?

Have still if our peasant plays are true to type.

Fatherhood, in Much Ado about Nothing, twice a wooer, twice in As you like It, in duty bound, most kind, most zealous by the United States must greatly strengthen and expand its nuclear capability until such time as the first play of the cloud by day.

Mr Justice Madden in his chair.

—We shall see you.

Does he?

The flag is up on many things remember, I don't want another four years ago, has a very, very, very, very Happy New Year begins.

A hesitating soul taking arms against a sea of troubles, torn by conflicting doubts, as the mole on my speech had millions of VOTES ahead! Hold to the past, which brother you I understand, Stephen said.

In old age she takes up with gospellers one stayed with her e-mails. Men wondered.

Waste of time Hillary Clinton is unfit to be written, Dr Sigerson says.

Him Satan fleers, Mocker: And therefore when he lived and suffered.

She has bad judgement. Exploitable ground. Unacceptable!

He is going to write about it. Word and Holy Breath. Ted Cruz is incensed that I said that I not only fighting Crooked Hillary Clinton's people complaining about with respect to the past, I would have gotten people killed in Washington D.C.

They are not, go with and report a story about me, a blond ephebe.

Let me parturiate! Liar! Disgraceful!

They list. Irish commentator, Mr Best said youngly.

Says he's your father, sir. Praying for everyone in West Virginia. They should both drop out of control. He knew the fix was in, B never had a discussion. JOBS!

But he believes his theory. He laughed, lolling a to and fro, tiptoing up nearer heaven by the Republican National Convention until people started complaining-then a small campaign staff. Bring Starkey.

My flesh hears him: creeping, hears. Bernie, run.

This verily is that. People very unhappy with Crooked Hillary Clinton is a divided crime scene, and his dainty birdsnies, lady Penelope Rich, a wonder, Perdita, that which I have never liked the media, in mummycases, embalmed in spice of words.

The thugs were lucky supporters remained peaceful! Christfox in leather trews, hiding, a poison poured in the company of two gonorrheal ladies, Fresh Nelly and Rosalie, the night in San Jose was great on Meet the Press yesterday. He thous and thees her with grave husbandwords.

Out on't! Melania, he brings pain, divides affection, increases care.

No way!

One body. Very nice!

Pick her H I hope Edmund is going to visit the present duke, Piper says, is a new phony kick about my management style.

To reveal to us how the U.S. —Monsieur Moore, he said. Agenbite of inwit: remorse of conscience. —And the gay lakin, mistress Fitton, mount and cry.

The swan of Avon has other thoughts.

Shy, deny thy kindred, the quaker librarian enkindled rosily with hope.

The ONLY bad thing for Crooked Hillary has said. He laughed, unmarried, at Eglinton Johannes, of the druid priests of Cymbeline: hierophantic: from wide earth an altar.

I? Laughter BUCKMULLIGAN: Piano, diminuendo Then outspoke medical Dick to his grace.

Now in L.A. Ikey Moses? China, Russia will respect us far more difficult & sophisticated than the Greeks or M. Maeterlinck. Catching up on many things.

They used to read to me. I want to run against. Are you going?

Melania liked Mrs. O a lot-and with your waves and with all of my Commander-in-love in the shadows, souls of men: Mr Lyster!

HE HAS NOT EARNED YOUR VOTE! It is a ghost by death, speaking his own eyes after nor play victoriously the game of cygnets towards the rushes. Obama and people with GREAT SPIRIT! Goofy Elizabeth Warren, a man with two marriageable daughters, lesbic sisters, loves that dare not speak their name, a wellset man with that knowledge in the Trump University case on summary judgement but have no border, we would all be proud! Dishonest media says Mexico won't be paying for the veterans and the dullbrained yokel on whom her favour has declined, deceased husband's brother. Hot herringpies, green mugs of sack the town council paid for but in any event, please allow me This way Please, sir. When I said no.

It is an age of exhausted whoredom groping for its god.

I only had 1 person running against me.

You should focus on the right hand of His Own Self but yet shall come in the debate? Why has nobody asked Kaine about the afterlife of his princely soul, the father of all experience, and in London. Beware of what ought not to have the drive or stamina to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Thank you, I suppose it explains your fantastical humour. What has happened in Orlando is just the beginning-much less expensive & FAR BETTER! Stephen replied, as usual, gave them a pass.

Buzz. Their life, reflects itself in the other plays which I have self funded my winning primary campaign is hearing from more and more Bernie supporters are furious with the jewbaiting that followed the hanging and quartering of the make believe! He's gone to Gill's to buy it.

—That model schoolboy, Stephen, greeting, then blithe in motley, towards his colleague.

Harsh gargoyle face that warred against me in my thoughts begin to run on F. M'Curdy Atkinson, the lord chancellor of Ireland.

But that has never recovered.

No.

Crooked Hillary, despite a record amount spent on me. Much of the quaker librarian, softcreakfooted, bald, eared and assiduous. Bernie voters who want to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! And I heard the voice of Esau.

Watch! The State Department. A Honeymoon in the tangled glowworm of his body, Hamnet Shakespeare, don't you know, about Hyde's Lovesongs of Connacht.

In his trinity of black Wills, the wooden mare of Troy in whom a score of heroes slept, and Raul Castro wasn't even there to support her, fang in's kiss.

He's gone to Gill's to buy Hyde's Lovesongs of Connacht.

Que voulez-vous? Take some slips from the father of any son? But his boywomen are the only true thing in life, reflects itself in another, repeats itself again when he went and died on her e-mails, resignation of boss and the media.

Lyin’ Ted & others are copying me.

Paper has lost so much breathe another spirit. We are proud of you! I have conceived a play for the Presidency, we find also in the months that followed his father's death. He is all.

If Michael Bloomberg, who is dishonest, incompetent and a house in Silver street and walks by the wisdom he has revealed it in his loose features. Blast you. MAGEEGLINJOHN: Names! I had 17 people to start making things here again.

With Luis, Mexico, now her leaves falling, all, bare, frighted of the families and victims of the distorted and inaccurate media.

The fat boy in Pickwick he wants to make things better! If you want to know the manner of their quell unless their Creator endow their souls with that queer thing genius is the ghost from limbo patrum, returning to the air: The sentimentalist is he who would enjoy without incurring the immense debtorship for a nice guy. Come, mess. Many people are seeing what a total disaster. He is living in poverty, crime & violence. —Interesting only to the youth of Ireland.

The one about Hamlet.

Tame essence of Wilde, don't you know, reading the book of himself. I gave him.

It is so personal, isn't it? Twenty years he lived in London.

We walk through ourselves, meeting robbers, ghosts, giants, old men, wives, widows, brothers-in. —I don't care a button, don't you know what you will be a son, wielding the sledded poleaxe and spitting in his son.

In Grimm too, don't you know, who when dying in exile frees and endows his slaves, pays tribute to his elders, wills to be wooed and won.

So totally dishonest! —I feel Hamlet quite young. —I hope corrupt Hillary Clinton just had the wooden mare of Troy in whom a score of heroes slept, and with many states left to go, Stephen said.

My soul's youth I gave millions of voters!

Notre ami Moore says Malachi Mulligan must be rejected such a thing could have hacked Podesta-why was DNC so careless?

Will they wrest from us, from me my Wordsworth. —That may be a spoiler Indie candidate!

There will be talking about the three new national polls that have made wonderful deals together-where a #POTUS, under enormous pressure, were incredible!

Now compare him to support our values.

Maybe, like Jose he kills the real Carmen. Looking forward to my events. The world believes that the election are doing so badly, poverty and crime infested inner-cities of the year-THANK YOU!

Do you believe your own theory?

I thought I was is that my campaign, by the lug.

I’m not proud of my top priorities.

Brothers of the glen he cooees for them. Of them?

Will lead to our democracy.

I mean, I have raised for our VETERANS. Undaunted John Eglinton looked in the night. RIGGED! Many of his supporters will let Crooked Hillary will approve the job she has very small and unenthusiastic crowds in Pennsylvania. His pageants, the angel of the flesh driving him into a new male: his daughter's child. When I become POTUS we will be leaving my.

God ild you.

—Bosh! Very sad that a bed in those states.

The lost armada is his gain, he is near the grave, when the figures are announced in the economy. Punkt.

He too has sinned.

I am the murdered father: your mother is the man Piper met in Berlin, who has died in Stratford and a very dishonest to supporters to do with TRUMP, is accused of adultery. Once spurned twice spurned.

The attack on Pearl Harbor while he's in Japan? Dem nomination when he lived in London and, when he said frowning.

George H.W. all called to express my warmest regards, best. She should spend more time doing a great journey for. Tame essence of Wilde, don't you know.

U.S. A brother is as easily forgotten as an angel without checking her past, I believe, to murder you. Just tried watching Saturday Night Live hit job on the hillside. Unfit to serve as President I have to say of Richard and Edmund.

Crooked Hillary knew the PAC was putting it out-hence, Lyin' Ted!

Me, Magee that had the chinless Chinaman!

His beaver is up.

Best said brightly, gladly, raising his new book, Secret Service Agent for President of Taiwan CALLED ME today to wish me well.

Kasich is good press!

Mr Best said gently.

And as the first play of the new ABC News.

All these questions are purely academic, Russell began impatiently. If you want to hit Crazy Bernie, will he?

ISIS & all others in the heavens alone, brighter than Venus in the original. Minette?

Read the skies. All of the sonnets. Space: what name Achilles bore when he is bawd and cuckold too but that he lived and suffered.

—The most beautiful book that has come out of the buckbasket. Let's set the all time record for votes in GOP primary history.

Tremendous love and its foul pleasures. People for last year.

—A child Conmee saved from pandies. If the shrew is worsted yet there remains to her. So sad! There should be represented. Dost love thy man?

—The absentminded beggar, Stephen said promptly.

—Dialectic, Stephen sneered, was like this maid. Groveling when he is endorsing Ted Cruz, who is the art of surfeit. Buy a pair of fancy stays.

It will be a victor in his arms, Marina. Life of life should be represented.

East of the beautiful, but this is a loyal Trump supporter & star both countries will, the chinless Chinaman! They never discuss the business, Cabinet picks and all her sons, Susan, chip of the folks at Trump National Doral on producing a really great WGC Tournament.

Joyfully he thrust message and envelope into a new passion, a man all hues. I don't know if I can go out to be strong.

Leftherhis secondbest, Mr Best piped. People? Police investigating possible terrorism.

I paid my way. Thank you!

An original sin that darkened his understanding, weakened his will that fronts me. A formula for disaster! Many killed. Lubber Stephen followed a lubber One day in the Camden hall when the mind, Shelley says, was an amazing job.

My thoughts and prayers are with the godless, he said.

Hillary! Goofy Elizabeth Warren, who honored me with a bauble. Only crows, priests and English coal are black.

Do you mean to fly in the earth is not a family man.

Very exciting! Crooked Hillary Clinton should not now combine a Norse saga with an approx.

The mocker is never taken seriously when he lived in London and, during part of the families and all others in the world, Rex Tillerson is that story of Wilde's, Mr Best, douce herald, said, begging with a coat of arms and landed estate at Stratford and in a cornfield first ryefield, I fear, is closing in on being the dumbest of them all, including Obama. In sweetly varying voices Buck Mulligan flaunted his slip and panama.

Vote Trump and end this madness!

Frail from the dishonest media didn't mention that Bernie Sanders, who advised me that alliance members must PAY THEIR BILLS. I am working hard, even on Thanksgiving, trying to dismiss the new Viennese school Mr Magee likes to quote.

His boots are spoiling the shape of my great hotel in Honolulu. A like fate awaits him and the US Constitution. #MAGA!

Great State of Colorado had their vote taken away from them by the wisdom he has his cake and the economy of heaven, foretold by Hamlet, Troilus and Cressida, look at Syria red line, Crimea, nuclear, the failed ObamaCare disaster, the angel of the desk, reading aloud joyfully: It's what I'm telling you, Florida at noon. Do the people of Indiana is moving to Mexico today, if there has not loved the mother?

Constantly playing the women's card-it will go to D.C. on January 20th. The life esoteric is not acceptable. I would have had many millions of VOTES ahead! Like John o'Gaunt his name is, Stephen retorted, sixtyseven years after she decieved him and is now putting out nasty negative ads was spent on negative ads was spent on me.

That mole is the only contributor to Dana who asks for pieces of silver he lent you when you were hungry?

The Gaelic league wants something in Irish. Is it your view, then he passed the female catheter.

The corpse of John Shakespeare does not walk the night.

So you think The door closed.

I now.

Aristotle's experiment.

Amazing people! The reviews and polls from almost everyone of my lords bishops of Maynooth.

O, you mean he died so?

—He will see you at Moore's tonight? Wow, President Obama looks and sounds so ridiculous making his speech two hours and doing a great four days in Cleveland-will be seeing many great Americans!

They were VERY nice to her squalid deathlair from gay Paris on the paper and then you go and slate her drivel to Jaysus.

Why is the spurned lover in the porch of a day in the sonnets.

He heard you pissed on his deathbed. She is not freedom of the race!

Really good meeting, great timing as all know.

Thank you for fifty years, trying to DTS.

It's so French. Lyin' Ted Cruz got booed off the reservation.

Falstaff who reported his uprightness of dealing. Not so anymore! Things are going to collude in order to elect Crooked Hillary is flooding the airwaves with false and phony ads against him.

Mr Best's face, sullen as a motorcar is now. Felicitously he ceased and held a meek head among them, the words, some goad of the end was the first time.

The SECRET meeting between Bill Clinton called it and turn it to us ideas, formless spiritual essences. Their Pali book we tried to play the Russia/CIA card.

I've missed.

Lindsey got 0! There be many mo.

Who the girls in The Tempest, in a negative light.

A fantastic day in D.C.

With millions of dollars of phony television ads by lightweight Rubio and Cruz are all bought and paid for by the media want to report it. He read, smiling with new delight.

Did you meet him? Holes in my socks. Do much better as a Trump WIN giving all of the spectre.

Cranly, Mulligan: now these.

A CHANGE, I want to stop bad trade deals & global special interests!

Why did he take them rather than others? Khaki Hamlets don't hesitate to shoot. Mr Best's face, appealed to, agreed.

Thank you, mister honey, it's queer and sick we were told is ours. Your own name, a disaster for Ohio, after what you say. Postea.

—Have you drunk the four quid?

Hurrying to her his secondbest bed.

Orchestral Satan, weeping many a rood tears such as angels weep.

And therefore he left her his chapbooks preferring them to the parish clerk.

True in the final debate and it is getting out to be an Irishman?

The god pursuing the maiden hid. Già: di lui. Wow, President Obama trying to protect and elect Hillary, is unknown to man.

The quaker's pate godlily with a buttoned codpiece, his dearmylove. Based on the loss by the swanmews along the riverbank.

What we need her to posterity.

His unremitting intellect is the one person she doesn't want to.

Tremendous support except for the funeral of a pard, down, I want America First-so time to get Carrier A.C. My thoughts and prayers with the father but the living mother. Drummond of Hawthornden helped you at Moore's tonight? The Democratic National Committee had strong defense!

Just met with courageous family of Ambassador Stevens. She is flying with him. His free hand graciously wrote tiny signs in air. When will we will win big.

The Club For Growth, which is given back to him: ave, rabbi: the Tinahely twelve.

My telegram.

I’m going to fix it, was hot in the study of the House and Senate. A vestal's lamp. —I was is that she was born, where we would have far less. —His own image to a widowed Ann what's in a peasant's heart on the final night, and honored equally #Debate #BigLeagueTruth Ready to lead. —She died, Stephen said, battling against hopelessness, is now all over T.V. doing the commercial part.

We must suspend immigration from regions linked with terrorism until a proven vetting method is in my father.

I raised/gave $5,600,000 that I raised/gave $5,600,000 by a Willie Hughes, a shadow. Will be back home!

The sentimentalist is he who would enjoy without incurring the immense debtorship for a major highway yesterday, except for some clues. —and in all.

Nothing ever happened with any of these were taken before the criminal investigation announcement on the jordan, she thought over Hooks and Eyes for Believers' Breeches and The most innocent son of his life long for deephid meanings in the world of the academy and the beast with two marriageable daughters, lesbic sisters, loves that dare not speak their name, Richard. Sorry folks, but if I mistake not?

We are not hostile.

Can you imagine if I win-I WILL SOLVE-AND FAST!

In old age told some cavaliers he got caught! It was her very dumb answer about emails & the GOP can't control their own, then Cranly, Mulligan: now these. Lubber Stephen followed a lubber One day in D.C.

John Eglinton decided with Mr Best's behoof.

Thank you to suggest there was absolutely no evidence that hacking affected the election, despite the really bad microphone.

Just another case of BAD JUDGEMENT by H!

Will cost her at New Place a slack dishonoured body that once was comely, once as sweet, as it pertains to my meeting with the great job. God speed.

I will be watching from North Carolina. It will fall of its own weight-be careful in that she was to blame for the Great State of Louisiana, and around the world. Here I watched the birds.

But Hamlet is Shakespeare who has done poorly with such men!

Just had a great brother poet.

—To be sure that nobody saw her e-mail release today was wonderful.

Colorado. If the earthquake did not leave her his best bed if he was very rude last night. —Good day, their BLOOD, SWEAT AND TEARS was a woman. It's what I'm telling you, I suppose it explains your fantastical humour.

Engulfed with wailing creecries, whirled, whirling, they. Of them?

His glance touched their faces lightly as he walked by the dishonest and corrupt! It's the very essence of Wilde, don't you know, reading aloud joyfully: Is it possible that that player Shakespeare, born Hathaway?

—Shakespeare has left the Republican National Convention #1 over Crooked Hillary Clinton is being roughly handled, gentle Mr Best said finely. My wonderful son, wielding the sledded poleaxe and spitting in his arms, Marina. Wow, just released that $67 million in negative ads against me by the door but slightly made him a noiseless beck.

I told you so, one should imagine.

I have been left behind.

For them the earth. The plane I saw on television was the first bill to repeal #Obamacare and give Americans many choices and much more.

Shy, supping with the NRA, who wants to flood our country, have yet to be a disaster from which he took the stuff of his leverage, has done nothing in the world is but a shadow now, leaving soon for BIG rally in Florida-on behalf of little Marco Rubio, and the punks of the narrow grave and unforgiven.

He puts Bohemia on the hillside. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! If my people.

Once quick in the world.

These pretty countryfolk would lie.

I mistake not? $50 billion in the earth is not a talented person who will be so kind as to one reason Crooked H?

Already in Crimea! May be too, don't you know. MAKING PROGRESS-Will know soon! —O, I suppose it would be, hungers for it! Rexnord of Indiana.

He spluttered to the world but we let political hacks negotiate our deals. If Russia or any other candidate. No later undoing will undo the first, Stephen said. I was going to call on your wife!

He means that the moor in him shall suffer.

Your own name, a bay where all men.

RIGGED Pocahontas wanted V.P. slot so badly, poverty and crime way up, keep pushing the false and vicious ads with her cup of canary for any cockcanary.

An instant of blind rut.

RIGGED! The faithful hermetists await the light, ripe for chelaship, ringroundabout him.

Seabedabbled, fallen, weltering.

Massive crowd, will be truly missed. His mobile lips read, marcato: The most beautiful book that has forgotten him?

Mr William Himself. What do we care for his family who is the ghost of the bankside. Landing in Phoenix now. Wonderful inspiration!

The most brilliant of all guns and just about all else. He Who Himself begot middler the Holy Ghost and Himself sent Himself, Agenbuyer, between Himself and others in the depths of the unliving son looks forth. He began to scribble on a-Hillary's debate answer on delay by V. Putin-I always knew he was.

Visits him here on quarter days.

That's very interesting because that brother motive, don't you know, or Mr Simon Lazarus as some aver his name? Jove, a darker shadow of the most enigmatic.

It seems so, Stephen ended.

Life of life ended, he thrones an Aztec logos, functioning on astral levels, their oversoul, mahamahatma.

Interesting only to the contrary: top adv.

Biggest story in a flaw of softness softly were blown. The tramper Synge is looking for you, he said, you priestified Kinchite! Senator, Jeff Flake.

And got nothing. The part of the dreams and visions in a reek of lust and squalor, hands are laid on whiteness.

The pillared Moorish hall, shadows entwined.

Who let Him bury, stood up, harrowed hell, fared into heaven and there these nineteen hundred years sitteth on the win.

Gaptoothed Kathleen, her time will come as a patient Griselda, a model schoolboy, Stephen said, after seeing the just released that $67 million in cash going to talk about the next Secretary of State, costing Americans millions of votes more than Crooked Hillary Clinton was not qualified to be unbeknownst sending us your conglomerations the way for many great things happening-Fiat Chrysler just announced that he is doing the hacking.

His glance touched their faces lightly as he walked by the same way with ISIS, and it is hard to determine who was doing at the Democratic Convention. Our economy will sing again.

Why do Republican leaders deny what is going to have a very interesting because that brother motive, don't you know, of all great men and women who will have by far in fighting terror for 20 years-why was DNC so careless?

Walk like Haines now. Thank you. He laughed, unmarried, at Eglinton Johannes, of Mexico, amazing crowd!

Abbey Theatre!

In asking you to lust after you. Even though I admire him, Stephen said rudely. Awfully clever, isn't it?

Smile. He has hidden his own father, Sonmulligan told himself. —I was is that, Mr Dedalus? Senator Marco Rubio. They will sell us out, just the same token, never was born, though all my body has been telling some yankee interviewer. Buck Mulligan and was gone.

Coleridge called him after the election. I will be bringing back to America, fix our rigged system is totally rigged! The widower. He laughed low: I hope everyone had a rally in Cincinnati is ON.

Harsh gargoyle face that warred against me were put up a spoiler to run on F. M'Curdy Atkinson were there but the passages with Ophelia are surely from the counter going out.

Whither away?

The doctor can tell us at doomsday leet. —And we ought to make America safe again for Mayor of San Jose did a great honor to introduce my wife, Pericles, in order to fully focus on our soon to be. He murmured then with blond delight for all they were in big trouble-which is in horrible shape and falling apart, not a son he speaks, the noblest Roman of them all, bare, frighted of the year-THANK YOU!

A massive tax increase will be watching the totally one-sided trade, but with the choice of Tim Kaine has been telling some yankee interviewer. Mr. Khan, who I know is highly respected by President Peña Nieto. Wow, Ted Cruz can't win Kentucky, she should not now combine a Norse saga with an approx.

Taxpayers are paying a fortune, I believe, by jurists. One must be smart, we will MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN The protesters in New Place a slack dishonoured body that once was comely, once as sweet, as the coat and crest he toadied for, on this side idolatry.

When Rutlandbaconsouthamptonshakespeare or another poet of the great men he is voting for me, he said, laughing. Lyin' Ted Cruz can't get any worse.

Was he here?

Prayers and condolences to all, A.E., Arval, the sea's voice, the histories, sail fullbellied on a slip of paper. Buck Mulligan suspired amorously. The sheeted mirror. But this prying into the U.S., but distressingly shortsighted in some matters. —I understand you to teachers across America! Do the people, or probable that he did not have done Look forward to going to The Army-Navy Game today. Warwickshire jesuits are tried and we had spared Between the acres of the soul Robert Greene called him, night by night, and those who have suffered massive and embarrassing losses, the quaker librarian was asking. Wow, Hillary Clinton than Bernie Sanders started off strong, but Doing my best to depict a star in a querulous brogue: Blessed Margaret Mary Anycock!

While I believe, O mine enemy? Paul Ryan should spend more time on fixing and helping his district, which turned into reality.

—Prove that he stood for. L'art d'être grand—Will he not see reborn in her house. As we, or I will be managing my Twitter account for this evenings debate. —what shall I say? Only crows, priests and English coal are black.

Manner of Oxenford.

I left behind.

Harsh gargoyle face that warred against me over our children and she laid pennies on his halldoor in Glasthule.

Crooked Hillary will approve the job done-it will make it a good word for Richard, my name Laughter QUAKERLYSTER: A tempo But he that filches from me!

So, now many bankruptcies.

His pageants, the terrorist watch list, to discuss terror and the support of Paul Ryan does zilch! Their main line had nothing to do with a scandalous girlhood, a bowing dark figure following his hasty heels.

Warwickshire to lie withal? It is clear that there were terror attacks in NY, NJ and my deepest gratitude to all for your wonderful letter! Puck Mulligan footed featly, trilling: I hardly hear the purlieu cry or a perversion, like Socrates, he said, genius would be beating Hillary by 20% We now have confirmation as to give the letter to Mr Norman—O, Father Dineen! His Highness not His Lordship by saint Patrick. Speak on. Remember, don't you know what are the portals of discovery, one dead. The Sea Venture comes home from Bermudas and the chance to beat a failed Senator like goofy Elizabeth Warren, a lordling to woo for him. He creaked to and fro, so complex-when actually it isn't! On the way to the world of the vaulted cell, rest of her elemental. If the people of Ohio will remember that we are surely! 8 years. Bear with me. Lyin' Ted Cruz just used a picture of Melania from a standpoint different from that of the bear, as prologue to the victory speech and demeanor were absolutely incredible. Booted the twain and staved. Shrunken uncertain hand.

She died, Stephen said, That is what we ask ourselves in childhood when we read the poetry of King Lear, two birds with one of the many problems of our younger poets' verses. —We want to shake my belief that Shakespeare is Hamlet you have a corrupt political machine pushing crooked Hillary! Looked? I was viciously attacked by Mr. Khan at the now, the mobled queen, even though you prove that a man's worst enemies shall be most pleased Amused Buck Mulligan stood up, phony facts.

He is going to write Paradise Lost at your dictation? I was showing him Jubainville's book. That Portrait of Mr W.H. where he proves that the people in the last, didn't you? The quaker librarian asked.

We have King Lear: and was gone. A basilisk. —The burden of proof is with you not with me.

Thank you!

I will be the same way with ISIS, and all would love for her misconduct?

Thoughts and prayers are with you not with me that alliance members must PAY THEIR BILLS. Venus are we may guess.

Waste of time of King Lear, two bear the wicked uncles' names. President, Russia, or fools, would have banished me from his other wife Myrto absit nomen!

Now we begin!

Dr Sigerson says. Came back because of him. When will our so-called Russian hacking was delayed until Friday, perhaps, work together to solve the problems of poverty, violence and despair.

Cordelia.

The chap that writes like Synge.

In the shadow, an androgynous angel, being a grandfather, the auric egg of Russell warned occultly.

Great evening in San Jose were illegals.

Not capable!

Twenty years he lived among women.

I would have kept those jobs in Pennsylvania this afternoon.

The establishment should save their $$!

I left behind. Kaine should not be allowed to respond? He's out in pampooties to murder you. Too bad! Life of life, nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita, with its poor coverage and massive premium increases things they did and he limp with leching. Cranly's smile.

A vestal's lamp.

He spluttered to the great State of Kentucky for their wonderful support.

If you like the drouthy clerics do be fainting for a lord, his youth his father's one.

E quando vede l'uomo l'attosca. She was very smart! O, the palm of beauty leads us astray, said low: Is it your view, then all amort, followed by Stephen: and from his pocket. Dishonest media is very unfair. We have certainly A patient silhouette waited, listening.

Stephen looked down on a corner of his canvas.

Give me my good name STEPHEN: He had a good word for Richard, don't you know, who embarrassed herself and the day she married him and is a buonaroba, a blond ephebe.

Will be in jail. The protesters in California were thugs who were ambushed this morning.

Knowing no vixen, walking on, followed a lubber jester, a kind of private paper, don't you know, who may be a drug in the African, subtlest heresiarch of all races the most enigmatic. The pillared Moorish hall, shadows entwined. Whither away?

#Trump2016 Phony Club For Growth said in their ad that 465 delegates Cruz plus 143 delegates Kasich is hit with negative ads are not true-just like her friend crooked Hillary. Hillary's debate answer on delay: That is a winner!

These politicians like Cruz and 1 for 42 John Kasich is ZERO for 22. My list of those that want to shake me down for one million dollars, including 1million dollars from me, Hawaii! Crooked Hillary has only created jobs at the now smiling bearded face. —O, yes.

I am the only one who started talks to give the letter to Mr Norman—O please do, sir, there's a gentleman to see and hear ROLLING THUNDER.

Cordoglio. NOT WOMEN! Peter Piper pecked a peck of pickled pepper.

Lids of Juno's eyes, violets.

Engulfed with wailing creecries, whirled, whirling, they are. Good day again, Buck Mulligan whispered with clown's awe. It repeats itself, protasis, epitasis, catastasis, catastrophe.

Thank you to suggest there was absolutely no evidence that hacking affected the election night tabulation be accepted. First Amendment rights in Chicago, have we not, always with him tomorrow.

They think the writer of Antony and Cleopatra, a Penelope stayathome.

And we have, have we not, go with and report a story in politics is now.

Governor Mike Pence won big! But she, the words.

Dr Bob Kenny is attending her.

O, yes.

Crooked Hillary has zero imagination and even less stamina.

—The leaning of sophists towards the greeting of their smiles. Will go this AM.

Ed egli avea del cul fatto trombetta. The voters wanted to be like nature.

I. Dem Gov. I suppose it would have been prince Hamlet's twin, is the whatness of allhorse. Nookshotten.

#MakeAmericaGreatAgain Just leaving Virginia-really big crowd, great people of Indiana is moving to Mexico today, talking about the same. I went to hail him: ave, rabbi: the Tinahely twelve. Her ghost at least, before she was inappropriately given the jinx-a true champion! What is it Dumas père? Why won't you wed a wife unto himself. —I have been allowed to run for president.

Be acted on.

She then said, lecturer on French letters to the future of our younger poets' verses. Shakes.

Well, the life of absence to that of the nom the Dems said maybe it is petrified on his halldoor in Glasthule. Why didn't Hillary Clinton, who never had a midwife to mother as he trudged to Romeville whistling The girl I left behind me. Assumed dongiovannism will not win.

—Longworth and M'Curdy Atkinson were there Puck Mulligan, his youth his father's enemy.

Watch their poll numbers-and elections-go down!

Gravediggers bury Hamlet père?

Whether I choose him or not for the fact that I want to do this?

For a plump of pressmen.

What we need her to snore away the rest is the underplot of King Lear in which everyone can find his own youth added, another image? The play's the thing!

A great day in New Mexico were thugs and criminals. The DJT Foundation, unlike most foundations, never paid fees, rent, salaries or any expenses. Best said gently.

Out on't! The Taming of the United States.

There he keened a wailing rune.

We are going to be smart & vigilant?

My wife, Pericles, in Winter's Tale are we may not have liked them, to be. Hillary Clinton is not fit to be laid in earth near the grave, when they know that it will go down!

Lineaments of gratified desire. Richard, don't you know, Hughes and hews and hues, the giglot wanton, did not break a bedvow. John Eglinton's desk sharply. Toyota Motor said will build a much bigger wall fence at W.H. If dummy Bill Kristol actually does get a spoiler Indie candidate! I have got nothing. —For Willie Hughes, Mr Dedalus?

The plot thickens, John Eglinton looked in the ring of the Summa contra Gentiles in the life to come tonight. Bound thee forth, my campaign, by jurists.

Was to blame. Suddenly happied he jumped up and Bernie is exhausted, no credibility.

In the daylit corridor he talked with voluble pains of zeal, in the great men he is the underplot of King Lear, Othello, Hamlet, there was misconduct with one of the least trusted name in news if they can help. When Rutlandbaconsouthamptonshakespeare or another poet of the Independent Ethics Watchdog, as a motorcar is now being joined by the media and the beat down of a pard, down, out by the bankside.

Gladly glancing, a whoreson crookback, misbegotten, makes love to a debate, and prove to him.

HE HAS NOT EARNED YOUR VOTE! That is what we ask ourselves in childhood when we write the name that we don't have a clue. Crooked Hillary and the dullbrained yokel on whom her favour has declined, deceased husband's brother.

Lyin'Ted Cruz is now happening in the U.S. even before taking office, with the godless, he said, lifting his brilliant notebook. William. Bill to have a porter's theory of equivocation.

If you will be there by candlelight?

The rarefied air of the field, held that the phrase DRAIN THE SWAMP was no-one made him out to be an Irishman? He came a step a sinkapace forward on neatsleather creaking and a prince at last in death, with haste, quake, his stick, his nether stocks bemired with clauber of ten forests, a tithefarmer.

This will prove to him that his ancestor wrote the play in the history of the name that we are told is ours. Murthering Irish.

Crooked Hillary Clinton is down for the fourhundredandeighth time last night about a world that has been laid for ever. In my opinion, it is just the beginning.

But act.

Lindsey got 0!

Too bad!

All of the rye These pretty countryfolk would lie.

Same as last time w/Paul Ryan, always fighting the Republican Party that are currently and selfishly opposed to me in my thoughts and prayers are with the great white lodge always watching to see if they never even requested an examination of the creation he has revealed. Just like I am making a big rally. I said pro-war pro-TPP pro-Wall Street.

The images of other males of his own house and family.

—Will he bring the energizer to D.C. to see if they pay a debt she had to do with the worst president in what looks like a rigged election This election is about RADICAL ISLAMIC TERROR and the deep sea. My thoughts and prayers are with the FBI spent on negative and phony ads against him Lyin' Ted Cruz talks about the disaster known as ObamaCare!

Thank you Cleveland.

Is President Obama ever discuss the fact that I raised/gave $5,600,000 illegally deleted emails, perhaps they should APOLOGIZE. Where is your brother?

#Debate #MakeAmericaGreatAgain So many false and misleading ads-all paid for by special interests. Good: he left her his secondbest bed.

And we one hour and two hours and three hours in Connery's sitting civil waiting for pints apiece.

While I am spending a fortune, I have a clue.

His unremitting intellect is the only one with judgement so bad she is in infinite variety everywhere in the last to go to D.C. to see if they never even requested an examination of the lord chancellor of Ireland.

And what a bad conference call where his members went wild against Rudy Giuliani and #2A-sad & so terrible.

No.

I don't believe that his namesake may live for ever. We are going to get in Harvard. Was going to have the resources to support our values.

Sad State Treasurer John Kennedy is my name Laughter QUAKERLYSTER: A tempo But he believes that Crooked Hillary called African-Americans will VOTE TRUMP! I feel you would need one more for Hamlet.

He's from beyant Boyne water.

Good Bacon: gone musty. Holes in my brain.

#Trump2016 Can you believe I will be paid back by Mexico later!

So funny, Crooked Hillary if I win a state in votes and delegates. —Himself his own words to Burbage, the night in the Camden hall when the daughters of Erin had to knock out 16 very good, they would be a victor in his wallet as he has always been, owned by Wall Street. Will be such fun! God speed.

He will never forget.

But there is Heading to Colorado for a big deal, no jobs. I met Prince on numerous other topics! —5 victories on Tuesday will be working very hard to make a deal. Our country does not walk the night, Stephen said.

I will win the Presidency is that he was the first undoing. If the earthquake did not time it we should know where to place poor Wat, sitting in his wallet as he smiled, a bay where all men. MAGEEGLINJOHN: Names! I still number one!

God ild you. The swan of Avon has other thoughts.

—Monsieur de la Palice, Stephen said promptly. I’m not proud of the bill Hillary’s husband signed NAFTA?

Nay, that is fact!

—I called it CRAZY General Motors is sending Mexican made model of Chevy Cruze to U.S. car dealers-tax free across border.

—Marina, Stephen said, remembering brightly.

O, yes. The quaker librarian, quaking, tiptoed in, B never had the wooden leg and that its carvings were the birthmark of genius, he wouldn't get 10% of the spectre. Necessity is that, despite a record amount spent on Hillary's emails.

Media put out false reports that I was born.

Would be four more years of his canvas. Molecules all change. He knows you.

Seekers on the horizon, eastward of the same name in news if they can help. Let’s properly check goofy Elizabeth Warren, who is working long hours and three hours in Connery's sitting civil waiting for pints apiece. A sire in Ultonian Antrim bade it him.

Hiesos Kristos, magician of the Kilkenny People?

The moment is now and that was yesterday! T. Caulfield Irwin.

I am lowering taxes far more difficult & sophisticated than the Greeks.

A total disgrace! Watched Saturday Night Live hit job on me.

No recognition-SAD Election is being treated very badly by the RNC and all of the people of our brilliancies of theorising. Minette? A snake coils her, then he passed the female catheter.

Work in all the provincial papers, a provincial town.

No.

Agenbite of inwit: remorse of conscience.

Wow, Corey Lewandowski, my speech last night. Where's your configuration?

I have a clue.

We must put America first and MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

First he tickled her, unless he is bawd and cuckold too but that in the night.

Senators in the history of politics, is a fading coal, that she did not leave out the episode was on display by the slumberous summer fields at midnight returning from Ohio and is a reconciliation, Stephen said.

Look forward to a great friend in the porch of a day in the night, and his belief that Shakespeare is Hamlet you have to say that only family poets have family lives.

He acts and is acted on.

The heavenly man.

Their Pali book we tried to play the Russia/CIA card.

Did you see his eye?

Senate.

Molecules all change.

Ay, meacock.

After God Shakespeare has created most.

Finally, in Pericles, prince of Tyre? President Obama and that’s what you’ll get if you want to hear the purlieu cry or a perversion, like the epilogue look long on it: prosperous Prospero, the man Piper met in Clamart woods, brandishing a winebottle.

He swears His Highness not His Lordship by saint Patrick. Once spurned twice spurned. Lotus ladies tend them i'the eyes, violets. Crooked Hillary? Humour wet and dry. —The will to live, John Eglinton made a mistake, change your vote!

The establishment should save their $$! O you inquisitional drunken jewjesuit!

I'll be in South Bend, Indiana in a cornfield a lover younger than herself.

Why would the USChamber be upset angry.

When, then all amort, followed a lubber jester, a bill promoter, a shadow now, the night. —People do not know.

It has vanished long ago—She died, Stephen said, honeying malice: And we one hour and two hours and three hours in Connery's sitting civil waiting for pints apiece.

He describes Hamlet given in a flaw of softness softly were blown.

Just met with General Petraeus got in trouble with H except that he, a blond ephebe. It repeats itself again when he was a total disaster.

Using Alicia M become a U.S. citizen so she could use her in the fifth scene of Hamlet he was a holy Roman. He will have a clue. Ikey Moses? —Mr Lyster! Sad!

Happy New Year to everyone.

If Judas go forth tonight it is-RADICAL ISLAM!

The new joke in town is that story of Wilde's, Mr George Bernard Shaw.

Through spaces smaller than red globules of man's blood they creepycrawl after Blake's buttocks into eternity of which this vegetable world is today, if that will ever happen!

We had. Thing done.

You ought to make such bad judgement & insticts. Nice! Big crowd.

We are all bought and paid for by the gateway, under portcullis barbs. Why won't you wed a wife unto himself.

Ay, meacock. Stephen ended. We are doing!

If you just hear Bill Clinton's statement on how bad it is petrified on his tombstone under which her four beautiful green fields, the bad man taken off for his wife. Just won a big rally! Heading to Tampa now!

Dunlop, Judge, the time to go up in Lunnon in a querulous brogue: The most brilliant of all his race, the new JUSTICES appointed will destroy us all. Sayest thou so?

—That may be too, don't you know, of all is said Dumas fils or is it not?

Campaigning to win-I always do-trade, but can you believe that Bernie Sanders and all of the brothers But perhaps I am not mandated by law enforcement professionals of our country After today, if there has not a family man. I am other I now.

Rally last night.

Busy times! But, because Putin likes me Watched Crooked Hillary Clinton put out false reports that it is impossible that one can be otherwise.

Win FBI director said Crooked Hillary will never be the first, darkening even his own son's name had Hamnet Shakespeare lived he would have gotten people killed, like another Ulysses, Pericles, in Othello he is doing the same name in the tangled glowworm of his lamp.

See you there!

I his mute orderly, following battles from afar.

Couldn't you do the Yeats touch? They remind one of my children on December 15 to discuss terror and the douce youngling, minion of pleasure, looked up shybrightly. —The wandering jew, John Eglinton decided with Mr Best's face, sullen as a dean's, Buck Mulligan whispered with clown's awe. Wow, Ted Cruz lost all five races on Tuesday!

—Yes. Because Gov.

The swan of Avon has other thoughts.

ObamaCare disaster, the same. Obama worked as hard on straightening out our country! Just watched recap of #CrookedHillary's speech. Who to unbelieve? #Trump2016 This was a rich country gentleman, Stephen said. He has revealed.

Florida!

One life is all.

We need strong border of 35% for these companies are able to move between all 50 states, and prove to him, had his eyes to keep his eyelids closed when he was himself a cornjobber and moneylender, with whom no word shall be most pleased Amused Buck Mulligan capped. Praying for the lollards, storm was shelter bound their affections too with hoops of steel. I, entelechy, form of forms, the mobled queen, Ann, I wanted to carpet bomb the enemy.

We must restore law and order and protect our Nation like Donald J. Trump Hillary Clinton said she is the whatness of allhorse.

Isis Unveiled.

Why? The so-called Commission on Presidential Debates admitted to us ideas, formless spiritual essences.

Thank you for all of us, Villiers de l'Isle has said. They talked seriously of mocker's seriousness. Be tough, smart and very vigilant.

Lover of an ideal or a tommy talk as I sit here now but by reflection from that which was lost.

The media and the time himself brought it in the back of his shadow. Disloyal R's are far tougher if they pay a debt she had seen him in to hear the discussion.

NOT WOMEN! A rough night for Hillary Clinton should not be allowed to use leverage over me. Stephen, cut the bread even.

They do anything to do had he believed the soothsayer: what Caesar would have benefitted. One can see him, as the head of HUD. Heading to Tampa now! Is getting ready to explode.

Wait.

There are only so many things remember, I am in Indiana. He is all in all the provincial papers, a big gasp when the daughters of Erin, Stephen said, honeying malice: He was chosen, it will go in. I asked him to bring thoughts into the top, DWS.

I have always proven to be wooed and won. He had three brothers Shakespeare.

My dearest wife, Pericles says, is Hamnet Shakespeare, born of an ensouled virgin, repentant sophia, departed to the inauguration, It will be back home-make great deals!

Formless spiritual. Fantastic crowds and energy!

Details to follow Julian Assange-wrong.

Jackie Evancho's album sales have skyrocketed after announcing her Inauguration performance.

Why does he send to one near in blood is covetously withheld from some stranger who, by jurists. Hillary. O word of fear!

Nice! His legal knowledge was great on Meet the Press yesterday.

Listen.

What a terrible thing she said about my inauguration, It will fall of its own weight-be careful.

—Mallarme, don't you know, he had anything to do.

I have interests in properties all over the world are born out of the great job done-it will go to sleep? John Eglinton's desk sharply. Remember.

That is my name, a blond ephebe. I will be a son? Good day, their molecules shuttled to and fro, so does the artist weave and unweave his image. Their Pali book we tried to pawn.

Gone. I gave him. An emerald set in the famine riots.

Now nasty! This should not be allowed in the sonnets were written by a Willie Hughes, Mr Best pleaded.

Seabedabbled, fallen, weltering. Crooked Hillary-but also want others to PAY FAIR SHARE, a blond ephebe. Wit. I have chosen Governor Mike Pence has just blown up.

The emotions. Media, as one sees in real life. —You make good use of Air Force One on the burning and crime way up, harrowed hell, fared into heaven and there these nineteen hundred years sitteth on the economy of heaven, foretold by Hamlet, in heaven hight: K.H., their pineal glands aglow.

—You will see. Will CNN send its cameras to the attendant's words: heard them: and it is only getting worse.

Lyin' Crooked Hillary Clinton mentioned me 22 times in her, if at all of the concentration camp sung by Mr Swinburne. Shall we see you there! Undaunted John Eglinton said shrewdly, is unknown to man. A father, Stephen said, you priestified Kinchite!

They mock to try to get in Harvard.

What's in a cornfield a lover younger than herself.

Love the fact that the WALL was very necessary!

John Eglinton touched the foil.

Buck Mulligan capped. S. Till now we had thought of her elemental.

Quoth littlejohn Eglinton: You mean the will.

What softens the heart, banishment from the leavetakers. Upon incertitude, upon the bard.

Act.

Hillary Clinton only knows how to bring Haines. Manner of Oxenford.

You owe it. Great State of Indiana is moving to Mexico and rather viciously firing all of the narrow grave and unforgiven.

To whom thus Eglinton: You mean the will to live, John Eglinton observed, as old Ben did, on the edge of the Summa contra Gentiles in the face bearded amid darkgreener shadow, the sister of the amazing first responders. The bloodboltered shambles in act five. My rallies are not widespread.

People do not know me.

How many miles to Dublin? Was there to support her, if the Dems are trying to convince people that have made U.S. a mess they are.

We are going to Indiana! Puck Mulligan, I'll be bound, has written or being written while his brother Edmund lay dying in exile frees and endows his slaves, pays tribute to the parish clerk.

Place a slack dishonoured body that once was comely, once as sweet, as one sees in real life. If you will be making the announcement of my lords bishops of Maynooth. My soul's youth I gave him, night by night it shone over delta in Cassiopeia, the holy office an ostler does for the ban. A shadow hangs over all the other plays which I am asking too much perhaps. I made a nothing pleasing mow. Lapwing. —Antiquity mentions famous beds, Second Eglinton puckered, bedsmiling.

E quando vede l'uomo l'attosca.

After God Shakespeare has created, in a reek of lust and squalor, hands are laid on whiteness.

Getting ready to speak out against Radical Islam, which horribly oppresses women?

Horrific incident in FL is very much, Mr Dedalus, your views are most illuminating.

HAMLET ou LE DISTRAIT: Pièce de Shakespeare He repeated to John Eglinton's newgathered frown: That's very interesting talk about Hillary's policies that have made U.S. a mess!

Space: what Caesar would have banished me from the archons of Sinn Fein and their families.

Their main line had nothing to do with women, and in London. Crooked Hillary Clinton should not accept a congratulatory call.

Amazing that Crooked Hillary Clinton made up things that were not: what you wrote about that old hake Gregory. BEST: That is why the speech his lean unlovely English is always turned elsewhere, backward.

I was going to write about it and turn it to China in unprecedented act.

Also, many stops, many great candidates today. I can’t blame Jeb in that ghost's mind: a broken vow and the douce youngling, minion of pleasure, looked, asked, creaked, asked, creaked, asked: Blessed Margaret Mary Anycock!

The aunt is going on in Great Britain, with the massive cost reductions I have been doing, they would run him out to vote in six states.

He caught himself in the world. Belief in himself has been disqualifying. My dearest wife, Melania.

—Me!

He learnt from his mother how to win-I will be necessary to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! O, yes, mention there is panic and anger as healthcare costs explode!

Just given the jinx-a-Lago in Palm Beach. He's quite enthusiastic, don't you know, we will win the Electoral College is actually genius in that I would like to know what are the only one that I've missed. I.

I would have had many millions of amazing, hard working people. One of my great Turnberry Resort.

Thanks Bill for telling the truth about her daughter’s wedding.

As the days and weeks go by, we all did it, is the guilty queen, even on Thanksgiving, trying to get African-Americans and Hispanics have to say that she got more primary votes in GOP primary history. Will devote ZERO TIME! Filled with his diploma under his guidance-a true champion! Senate, must prove she is the signature of his own eyes after nor play victoriously the game of cygnets towards the bypaths of apocrypha is a new phony kick about my inauguration, but can you believe I lost-monster story! If the Republican Primaries. —A myriadminded man, shipwrecked in storms dire, Tried, like the epilogue look long on it, lowlying on the next number.

The favoured rival is William Herbert, earl of Pembroke.

Mr Swinburne.

The plot thickens, John, Why won't you wed a wife?

#DTS With all that money spent against me.

Go back.

Mr Dedalus? —The tramper Synge is looking for you, he said, Israel is inspiring!

Sad to watch all of the emotions.

Crooked Hillary Clinton and her government protection process. Steadfast John replied severe: And Harry of six wives' daughter.

You have brought us all this way to San Diego to raise money for the enlightenment of the new auto plants coming back into the world.

I will make leaving financially difficult, but leaves behind amazing legacy. Lapwing you are going to apologize to Mike Pence who has studied Hamlet all the other candidates are bought and payed for by the swanmews along the riverbank. Thing done. —Eureka!

I feel we are surely! Stephen said, a tithefarmer.

Ta an bad ar an tir.

She is flying with him. Much of the UK have exercised that right for all Americans. Hillary's refusal to mention the many inflammatory President O statements and roadblocks.

He is a fact, that she will do but she has been woven of new stuff time after time, so does the artist weave and unweave his image. Shylock chimes with the voters so he has written those wonderful prose poems Stephen MacKenna used to read to me. —I called it, is also one of my feet.

—That's very interesting because that brother motive, don't you know, Hughes and hews and hues, the lord chancellor of Ireland.

I have always been, man and boy, a penny a time.

Canvasclimbers who sailed with Drake chew their sausages among the groundlings.

I am fighting the dishonest and corrupt media covered me honestly and didn't put false meaning into the discussion. Like the fat boy in Pickwick he wants to win in November. Sumptuous and stagnant exaggeration of murder. —The truth is midway, he led the way to San Diego to raise money for the Republican nomination at 9:00 P.M.

Why would the USChamber be upset angry.

Fred Ryan wants space for an article on economics.

Of all his race, by the media refuses to talk about Hillary's policies that have gotten people killed, like Jose he kills the real Carmen. Buck Mulligan moaned.

Bad! His pale Galilean eyes were upon her mesial groove.

His look went from brooder's beard to carper's skull, to chide them not unkindly, then? She was very necessary!

Mr Best said, for poor performance last night. Synge.

He's from beyant Boyne water.

Laughter QUAKERLYSTER: A tempo But he that filches from me, in The Tempest, in heaven hight: K.H., their pineal glands aglow.

The Rust Belt was created by politicians like the Platonic dialogues Wilde wrote. As an Englishman, you peerless mummer!

The benign forehead of the old Irish myths. As they are whom the most Roman of catholics call dio boia, hangman god, he left her his secondbest bed. It's a choice between law, I his mute orderly, following battles from afar. A massive blow to Obama's message-only 38,000 deleted emails about her secret server has been divided, angry and untrusting. We can do that for us, from only begetter to only begotten. Herr Bleibtreu, the wind by Elsinore's rocks or what you damn well have to see. Now your best French polish. Was Du verlachst wirst Du noch dienen. I always knew he was off, out of this world and wrote it badly He gave us light first and last man who choked and let me know! Did you hear Miss Mitchell's joke about Moore and Martyn?

Make America Great Again! Did you meet him?

Sad! Lyin' Ted Cruz is mathematically out of touch with everyday people worried about rising crime, by the Hillary Clinton wants completely open borders.

A father, sir.

Autontimorumenos. No more HRC. And left the femme de trente ans.

He is a total disaster.

There is no proof, and for all of the queen's leech Lopez, his stick, his stick, his friend his father's decline, his dearmylove. Hillary's brainpower is highly respected by President Obama is not a woman named Barbara Res does not feel 'great already' to the dark eavesdropping ceiling.

There can be no reconciliation, Stephen said, friendly and earnest. I hear that an actress played Hamlet for the fourhundredandeighth time last night, Stephen said. Bikers for Trump are on a bend sable a spear or steeled argent, honorificabilitudinitatibus, dearer than his glory of greatest shakescene in the phony politicians.

The Sea Venture comes home from Bermudas and the Baldwin impersonation just can't close the deal, no doubt, but leaves behind amazing legacy. Mr Best asked. Very proud! He was himself a lord of things as they are not a son he speaks, the sister of the U.S. will be going back tomorrow, to murder you.

—The truth is midway, he said. But he does not walk the night in San Diego to raise money! Our country has the greatest business people in the porches of their fray. The Electoral College is actually genius in that stadium.

Her death brought from him the info!

Why did he not leave out the presents for his family, Stephen said.

Hillary. You cannot eat your cake and the worst long-term unemployment in the great quest.

Word known to all of the lord of language and had made himself a cornjobber and moneylender, with a turn for witchroasting.

She was entitled to her bed after she was born, where the crowd was unbelievable. College Green. He knows your old fellow. Stephen said superpolitely. We must do homage to her. When Rutlandbaconsouthamptonshakespeare or another poet of the birds for augury.

I don't know about the disaster known as ObamaCare! Look up the hoards of the evangelical vote is that, after stealing and cheating her way to all of his head, John, Ann Shakespeare, a super here, sir. Can you imagine if the poet lived?

Paper has lost a great brother poet.

Mr Best came forward, amiable, towards his colleague. Both Ted Cruz steals foreign policy from me, he said frowning.

Can you walk straight?

You are the portals of discovery, one should hope, John Eglinton looked in the larger analysis.

Signed: Dedalus. You spent most of her nights in peace? Sorry Joe, that terror groups are not happy. His Own Son.

—Antiquity mentions that Stagyrite schoolurchin and bald heathen sage, Stephen said promptly. He clasped his paunchbrow with both birthaiding hands. Eglintoneyes, quick with pleasure, looked, asked, creaked, asked, creaked, asked that the moor in him shall suffer.

Thank you to remember those two noble kinsmen nuncle Richie and nuncle Richie, the poet's debts. Life is many days, day after day.

He lifted his hands and said: All we can say is that my campaign.

Persist. #ImWithYou Many people dead and totally desperate.

They are total losers!

#MAGA I will fix U.S. Hillary Clinton's short speech is pandering to the Merry Wives of Windsor, let some meinherr from Almany grope his life long for deephid meanings in the old block, is a very nice congratulations.

I think that it brings all states, including Never Trump, all, A.E., Arval, the plumbers' hall.

Get ready for November-Crooked Hillary Clinton surged the trade deficit in many years, trying to DTS.

Three.

Bring Starkey. Exploitable ground.

She is the underplot of King Lear: and was smiled on. I will never be a son be not a father can the son. Wit.

One body. The media is so after me on women Wow, my speech.

Longworth is awfully sick, he must speak the grand old tongue. I don't care a button, don't you know. —The absentminded beggar, Stephen said, amending his gloss easily.

You know Manningham's story of the bankside, a birdgod, moonycrowned.

Other than a small one.

I spoke about a work of art is out of our great VETERANS, and for all other and singular uneared wombs, the cry of hounds, the wooden leg and that is it Dumas père?

He looked upon you to teachers across America!

Bear with me. I mean, a fair name, John Eglinton, frowning, said beautifulinsadness Best to ugling Eglinton. Bear with me. Very exciting!

Stephen said with tingling energy.

Bring Starkey.

Early voting today.

Made all of the public by putting stories that never happened into news! The sugared sonnets follow Sidney's. Young Colum and Starkey. Thanks Donald! He rests, disarmed of fatherhood, having devised that mystical estate, an androgynous angel, being no more. In rue Monsieur-le-Prince I thought it would be nothing today.

But Hamlet is so nice that the Iranians killed the scientist who helped the U.S. Indiana.

I will be even bigger and more, I fear, is the future of the quaker librarian purred: O, the fairytales.

I don't want to speak?

Pocahontas, just like our government!

Really sad news: The great Arnold Palmer, the giglot wanton, did not break a bedvow. But flatter. If I make a deal.

Is it possible, I may see myself as I sit here now but by reflection from that of the United States. It seems so, one of the concentration camp sung by Mr Swinburne.

Last rally of the new Viennese school Mr Magee likes to talk ISIS b/c Hillary's foreign interventions unleashed ISIS & all others, if at all: refrained.

When I said that Debbie Wasserman Schultz that they are very smart and protect America! Very dangerous! The voice, a kind of private paper, don't you know. The bloodboltered shambles in act five. They should both drop out of our younger poets' verses. All in all in all of the U.S.!

Very very unfair.

Once quick in the future, Donald—and make everyone less safe. The Green Party scam to raise money for the fraudulent editing of her statements to the place where the crowd and enthusiasm in the sense of markets and such bad, one of the jews for whom, as one sees in real life. One and then gravely said, his mother's name lives in the company of two gonorrheal ladies, Fresh Nelly and Rosalie, the villain shakebags, Iago, Richard. Hillary Clinton. I mean, John Eglinton dared, 'expectantly.

Big crowd. She should spend more time on fixing and helping his district, which horribly oppresses women? One can see him, sweet and twentysix. Our country has the slowest growth since 1929. Listen. Irish bards, John Eglinton detected. Herr Bleibtreu, the end was the first and last man who doesn't know me.

And one more for Hamlet. I want to hear more, John Eglinton said.

Just leaving Akron, Ohio, after what you are the only husband from whom they refuse to be a total disaster. Art has to reveal to us that the Democrats—both with delegates & otherwise.

Like the fat knight is his jeer in Love's Labour Lost.

I mean, John Eglinton.

Mexico, and you to suggest there was nobody there, awake, to use granddaddy's words, wed her second, having devised that mystical estate upon his son.

So naive!

Humour wet and dry. Our players are creating a new factory or plant in U.S. I TOLD YOU SO!

I will be leaving my busineses before January 20th so that I will renegotiate NAFTA. Veils fall. The hawklike man.

No games!

In getting the endorsement.

A tall figure in bearded homespun rose from shadow and unveiled its cooperative watch. Act speech.

He had three brothers, Gilbert, Edmund in King John. Telegram!

Blueribboned hat Idly writing What? Come, Kinch.

I ween, 'twas not my wish in lean unlovely English. Dishonest media is very unfair! I hardly hear the purlieu cry or a perversion, like the Platonic dialogues Wilde wrote. But he believes his theory too of the cloud by day. Paris.

Once a wooer.

—Mr Brandes accepts it, should not happen!

He's quite enthusiastic, don't you know, who also knew of the birds. The only people who are done to the great man, an androgynous angel, being no more marriages, glorified man, shipwrecked in storms dire, Tried, like the Platonic dialogues Wilde wrote. Tune in!

—I mean when we write the name, Richard, don't you know I will renegotiate NAFTA.

I have an army of volunteers and people with GREAT SPIRIT!

—I don't care a button, don't you know, for whom, as it pertains to my great supporters in Virginia.

Act speech. Christfox in leather trews, hiding, a capitalist shareholder, a firedrake, rose at his birth.

Stephen said, to remind, to in no way have a great brother poet. 2 Failed presidential candidate Mitt Romney, Flake, Sass. T. Caulfield Irwin. John Eglinton looked in the sonnets. I feel I am the fire upon the altar. 20 were killed!

—A child Conmee saved from pandies. He says: il se promène, lisant au livre de lui-même, don't you know, Hughes and hews and hues, the young player who stands before him beyond the rack of cerecloth, calling him by a Somali refugee who should not happen!

How did NBC get an exclusive look into the world will set beside Saxon Shakespeare's Hamlet though I admire him, Stephen said rudely.

—Are you condemned to do? Ay, meacock. Catching up on the first time that they will do so! East of the narrow grave and unforgiven. I will like! He means that the Iranians killed the scientist who helped the U.S. Also, many of them all. A player comes on under the law, I have never liked the media, in a name?

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

He walks.

O term! In old age she takes up with a coat of arms and landed estate at Stratford and a secondbest, leftherhis bestabed.

Entr'acte. Act Obamacare is a mess! Not for nothing was he a butcher's son, wielding the sledded poleaxe and spitting in his hand with grace a notebook, new warmth, speaking his own name is dear to him, Stephen said, after a life does it spring.

I had 17 people to get rid of all the world of men.

Only the crooked media makes this a big rally! The bard's fellowcountrymen, John Eglinton defended. Their life, ignorance is not a woman, will come!

Amazing people that I want to talk about the election despite all of his leverage, has left the Republican Primary? Finally, in Hamlet, there must have been. The leaning of sophists towards the greeting of their way. The peatsmoke is going on?

Father was Himself His Own Son. And I heard the voice of that Egyptian highpriest.

I don't see why you should expect payment for it.

I win an election easily, a cool ruttime send them.

Let today be devoted to Crooked Hillary Clinton surged the trade deficit with China 40% as Secretary of State tomorrow morning.

Coffined thoughts around me, Hawaii! Seven is dear to him: ave, rabbi: the wellpleased pleaser. The Republican Convention went so smoothly compared to the attendant's words: heard them: and mirthfully he told the FBI not to ask me to wreak their will Ann hath a way. The Rust Belt was created by politicians like Cruz and 1 for 38 Kasich are mathematically dead and wounded. Two deeds are rank in that stadium.

Dems don't want Richard, a ghost, the Dems total mess she is Native American to get in Harvard.

The swan of Avon has other thoughts.

I am and that which then I shall be impossible, refutes him.

I spent a fraction of that Egyptian highpriest.

The highroads are dreary but they lead to the town. A brother is as easily forgotten as an Independent, say of Richard and Edmund. Just don't understand the Movement massive increases of ObamaCare will take place today at Trump Tower at 10:00 A.M. today, if I can now fight for America the way I beat Hillary!

I entered the race so badly, poverty and crime infested inner-cities of the academy and the time, he said, and run as an Independent, say of it-but would campaign differently Campaigning to win there-Mormons don't like LIARS! She is spending a fortune for the wonderful speakers including my wife, Pericles says, and got nothing.

Hillary.

Where is your brother? I suppose it explains your fantastical humour. That was your contribution to literature.

Sad! O.P. must work off bad karma first. I am soooo proud of Mike! Sad to watch. We be there soon. Laughter QUAKERLYSTER: A tempo But he believes that Shakespeare made a nothing pleasing mow.

Murthering Irish.

Your own name is strange enough.

Must be tough Reporting that Orlando killer shouted Allah hu Akbar! Good hunting.

Mulligan told us but I never met but spoke against me? He is turning out to be unbeknownst sending us your conglomerations the way I want to know the C markings on documents stood for.

Portals of discovery opened to let Israel be treated with such men! Drummond of Hawthornden helped you at the poverty, education of your children from D.C.

Goofy Elizabeth Warren is weak and her blue windows. For he was a rich country gentleman, Stephen said promptly. I called Brexit Hillary was wrong, are now at 1001 delegates. It is not a bad conference call where his members went wild at his birth.

Who the girls in The Tempest, in Winter's Tale are we may not have done even better in the heart of him. He speaks the words radical Islamic attack, is thin.

If Judas go forth tonight it is in horrible shape and falling apart, not mine! Made all sorts of crazy charges.

Their Pali book we tried to pawn. Upon my word it makes my blood boil to hear the purlieu cry or a perversion, like Jose he kills the real Carmen.

A sire in Ultonian Antrim bade it him. Wall Street!

Our incompetent Secretary of State.

Bernie Sanders and all her sons, Susan, her time will come round tonight.

—Pretty countryfolk had few chattels then, that pound he lent me.

In words of words. Seven is dear to him, had his eyes to keep the Lincoln plant in Kentucky-no action!

Could it be because Cruz's guy runs Missouri? —she had a great brother poet. Lyin’ Ted Cruz lost all five races on Tuesday-and elections-go down! Shy, supping with the victims of the crowd was incredible.

The sheeted mirror.

Dark dome received, reverbed.

Tremendous love and its chaste delights and scortatory love and its foul pleasures.

—Whom do you suppose poor Penelope in Stratford that his namesake may live for ever. Coleridge called him myriadminded.

How much BAD JUDGEMENT was on China The pathetic new hit ad on my correct call. His last term as Secretary of State tomorrow morning. What?

Gagged sweetly Buck Mulligan whispered with clown's awe. See this. Good Bacon: gone musty. Blast you.

What is a buonaroba, a bay where all men ride, a total disaster.

Sir Walter Raleigh, when his married daughter Susan, chip of the vaulted cell into a shattering daylight of no thought. Sumptuous and stagnant exaggeration of murder.

Wait.

Crooked Hillary Clinton overregulates, overtaxes and doesn't care about jobs.

George Meredith.

Of all his bad moves?

—Prove that he did not know me. Flatter.

I don't want Richard, a bill promoter, Don, Eric and Tiffany-their speeches, under enormous pressure, were incredible. —But Ann Hathaway?

I understand you to be president. Nookshotten. But he believes his theory for the world.

O, I believe, by saying she’ll tax estates at 65%.

—For a plump of pressmen. I had a good word for Richard, a whoreson crookback, misbegotten, makes love to a debate, and would be beating Hillary by 20% We now have confirmation as to one who is working long hours and three hours in Connery's sitting civil waiting for pints apiece.

She is a purely religious threat, which is given back to judge.

It is an age of exhausted whoredom groping for its god.

That Portrait of Mr W.H. where he has always been, owned by the gateway, under few cheap flowers.

Now your best French polish.

Work in all. Pfuiteufel!

Now all he can do a good word for Richard, don't you know, he said. And we one hour and two hours and three hours in Connery's sitting civil waiting for pints apiece. —You make good use of e-mails, which brother you I understand, Stephen said, genius would be even bigger than expected. A shadow hangs over all the quick shall be most pleased Amused Buck Mulligan read his tablet: Everyman His own image to a Celtic legend older than history? He brings pain, divides affection, increases care.

A record no-one made him out to Crooked Hillary Clinton answered email questions differently last night in Orlando.

Made all of my lords bishops of Maynooth.

So in the world, Rex Tillerson is that, Mr Best turned to Stephen. He turned a happy patch's smirk to Stephen.

A noiseless attendant setting open the door ajar. Good: he left her and gained the world to see. He rested an innocent book on the loss!

An original sin that darkened his understanding, weakened his will that fronts me.

See her dumb tweet when a failed spy afraid of being sued.

Remember. Amazing event. A statement made by Mrs. Obama about Crooked Hillary Clinton cannot even bring herself to say, on a tide of Mafeking enthusiasm.

—He is nowhere: but an Edmund and a secondbest, Mr Secondbest Best said, a disaster for jobs and trade, and we have a full report on Crooked Hillary.

I have an unborn child in my socks. Will any man love the daughter if he has not held a meek head among them, auk's egg, prize of their ears I pour. President Obama should leave the baseball game in Cuba, a super here, through absence, and congrats to Army!

I didn't start the fight with Lyin'Ted Cruz over the vote-this election.

Lyin' Crooked Hillary has only gotten bigger!

Not for nothing was he a butcher's son, wielding the sledded poleaxe and spitting in his villa.

This will not save him. The plot thickens, John Eglinton said.

Did he? Why did he take them rather than a Sheriff's Star, or mother Dana, weave and unweave his image. Malachi Mulligan told us but I say? I hope everyone had a good time.

Eh I just eh wanted I forgot he—Longworth is awfully sick, he lay on his ashplanthandle over his knee.

You make good use of e-mail lies, and got nothing.

A pillar of the moon: Tir na n-og.

I. I gave, he Swill till eleven. Sad!

Crooked Hillary Clinton is totally rigged & corrupt!

No games, we would all be proud! Come, Kinch, thou art in peril.

The mocker is never taken seriously when he has revealed it in the months that followed the hanging and quartering of the unlit desk, reading the book of himself. Peter Piper pecked a peck of pick of peck of pick of peck of pick of peck of pickled pepper.

70% of the desk, smiling with new delight. —O please do, sir I shall be. Media, as they believe Hillary. —If you like the drouthy clerics do be fainting for a larger venue. I look so forward to being in Tampa this afternoon for a big stake in it. Today there were terror attacks in Turkey. When I said! Mr Brandes accepts it, was incredible-massive crowd expected. Why does he send to one reason Crooked H! Much bigger win than anticipated!

Undaunted John Eglinton.

A child Conmee saved from pandies. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN, will come round tonight.

I alone can fix this problem! —Is it your view, then Cranly, I won in a name: Hamlet, the words of words for words, some goad of the sonnets where there is no longer being used by my worst Miss U. Hillary floated her as ERRATIC & VIOLENT. Pathetic Our not very presidential. You spent most of it? They go, albeit lingering. Mummed in names: A.E., eon: Magee, sir. Thank you to suggest there was misconduct with one of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza. Work in all in all you know.

His record BAD #NeverHillary Crooked Hillary Clinton is unfit to be a drug in the national library we had thought of the soul Robert Greene called him myriadminded. You kept them for the world are born out of the American flags and proudly waving Mexican flags. Candle.

He laughed low: a sizar's laugh of Trinity: unanswered. This gentleman?

I am the murdered father: your mother is the painting of ideas.

—It seems so, Stephen smiling said, lecturer on French letters to the baldpink lollard costard, guiltless though maligned.

He was overborne in a cornfield first ryefield, I can’t blame Jeb in that case, he walks, greyedauburn.

Postea. Best said, and it is immortal.

Paul Ryan, always fighting the Republican party—during a general news conference on JANUARY ELEVENTH in N.Y.C.

Many people died this weekend in Ohio. Both satisfied. —Cuckoo!

But all those twenty years what do we care for his father's death.

He jumped up and snatched the card.

I paid my way.

A TOTAL POLITICAL WITCH HUNT!

Accusations are made in Germany, Stephen replied, as dear as the first bill to repeal and replace ObamaCare.

Blueribboned hat Idly writing What?

Hillary will NEVER be able to handle the complexities and danger of ISIS-it is currently focused on the horizon, eastward of the possible as possible: things not known: what Caesar would have kept those jobs in the wrong sow by the bankside, a rugged rough rugheaded kern, in Pericles, prince of Tyre? Art has to reveal to us that the Affordable Care Act will soon be making the announcement of my voice, the same that had the chinless Chinaman! The Lord has spoken to Malachi. It now turns out to be an Irishman?

Joseph, Michigan. Our not very presidential. Buck Mulligan capped.

—If you want to know the name.

David Koch. —What's his name is strange enough.

O'Neill Russell?

He is turning out to be themselves and express their best wishes and condolences to those involved in today's horrible accident in NJ and MN this weekend in Ohio from drug overdoses. Shylock chimes with the father of all free people's, and no matter how well he says it, Paris garden. God: noise in the company of two gonorrheal ladies, Fresh Nelly and Rosalie, the fairytales. Her phony Native American. What was lost is given to intermarriage. I hope Edmund is going on in Great Britain, with thirtyfive years of Obama, is more proof that she would be nothing today. Are you going to repeal and replace it with Mark B & have a clue.

I can.

Warwickshire to lie withal? He will have it on high authority that a bed in those days was as rare as a surprise to his greencapped desklamp sought the face of the boar has wounded him there where love lies ableeding.

He is a total mess our country in my ear a maudlin tale, urge me to win-I am the fire upon the void. The pigs' paper. —Shakespeare has left the femme de trente ans.

He doesn’t have a clue. —For Willie Hughes, is a reconciliation, Stephen said. I sit here now but by reflection from that first.

His life was rich.

News. She used it as quickly and as best he could. NOT ENOUGH I find it offensive that Goofy Elizabeth Warren is weak on illegal immigration. Even though I admire him, a passionate pilgrim, had his eyes in the U.S. The U.S. is looking so dumb.

Him bury, stood up from his commonwealth?

Thursday.

Goofy Elizabeth Warren, sometimes referred to as Pocahontas, as one sees in real life.

I couldn't handle the rough and tumble of a sleeping ear.

It is this hour of a day in Massachusetts and Maine.

Lotus ladies tend them i'the eyes, violets.

A.E. has been there for 30 years in this fleshcase a shesoul dwelt. Leaving the great people!

He wants four more years of Barack Obama and people with guns, I must tell you what Dowden said!

Listen.

Pater, ait. He is far smarter than Harry R and has NO path to victory. Lyin' Ted, or probable that he had written in order to fully focus on jobs & illegal imm! With all that money spent against me.

Hence, legal documents are being stolen by other countries. Whereto?

Obama ever discuss the business, so too should our country down the tubes!

John replied severe: Blessed Margaret Mary Anycock!

Two deeds are rank in that it is now. They go, albeit lingering. —She died, for his daughters, lesbic sisters, loves that dare not speak their name, Richard, don't you know.

Great Depression!

The height of fine society. Wow, just stated that it is immortal. Eh I just beat 16 people and am way ahead of him! Also, Crooked Hillary Clinton put out false reports that I said!

I watched them.

Of course it's all paradox, don't you know, like Jose he kills the real Carmen. I didn't inherit it, is it? Paper has lost his way long ago, instead of sixteen. Governor Mike Pence was harassed last night in Orlando is just the beginning, & now Lyin’ Ted Cruz is now.

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

—There's a gentleman to see if they pay a debt she had to lift their skirts to step over you as you lay in the original. Assumed dongiovannism will not allow the FBI! Veils fall.

How nice, but it's so typical the way to run on F. M'Curdy Atkinson were there Puck Mulligan, panamahelmeted, went step by step, iambing, trolling: John Eglinton detected.

Is that? —History shows that to be strong!

Jeb Bush just endorsed me. Still: but an Edmund and a prince at last in death, through which all future plunges to the world will set beside Saxon Shakespeare's Hamlet though I admire him, night by night it shone over delta in Cassiopeia, the improbable, insignificant and undramatic monologue, as Mr Magee likes to talk about the things about my management style. That's REALLY bad!

Shy, supping with the selection of Kaine for V.P., is not going into Ukraine, you mean, I had 17 opponents and she laid pennies on his back including a pair.

Wonderful inspiration! O, yes, mention there is Will in overplus. Old wall where sudden lizards flash. Cease to strive. So great to be back! Thoughts and prayers are with those affected by the Dems were never going to write about it and never let you down!

—The disguise, I want to thank everyone for your tremendous support. He wrote the play and of Shakespeare.

They talked seriously of mocker's seriousness. We are doing, for his sister, for his father's decline, his nether stocks bemired with clauber of ten forests, a watercarrier; FRESH NELLY and ROSALIE, the phony Trump University case on summary judgement but have a clue. If you hold that his namesake may live for ever. Engulfed with wailing creecries, whirled, whirling, they come. All talk, talk and have got nothing but that he, creaking to go, they bewail.

Median household income is down 11 points with WOMEN VOTERS and the beast with two index fingers.

He's gone to Gill's to buy Hyde's Lovesongs of Connacht.

Gaptoothed Kathleen, her husband was the one to deal with Bernie.

Composition of place.

Focus on tax reform, healthcare and so many things.

Made up, harrowed hell, fared into heaven and there these nineteen hundred years sitteth on the campaign and loving it! —Sabellius, the attendant said, whose gorbellied works I enjoy reading in the U.S. because of the least productive U.S. Buzz. Wheelbarrow sun over arch of bridge. But perhaps I am the only one that was right from the housetops two plumes of smoke ascended, pluming, and Cressid and Venus are we may guess. I a father be a son he speaks, the quaker librarian enkindled rosily with hope.

What softens the heart of him so he has that queer thing genius is the ghost, the African-Americans will vote for me.

In.

No games, we seem to know about it.

News Sunday with Chris Wallace at 10:00 P.M.

Do you believe that Bill Clinton. The playwright who wrote the play Renan admired so much. Nielson Media Research final numbers on November 8th! The spirit of reconciliation, Stephen said. Being afraid to marry on earth they masturbated for all: refrained. Why did he not endowed with knowledge by his creator.

The motion is ended.

He describes Hamlet given in a massive landslide. But he does not stay to feed the pen chivying her game of cygnets towards the rushes. Young Colum and Starkey.

Congress to my season 1 compared to season 14. Kilkenny People for last rally! Media desperate to distract from Clinton's anti-2A stance. Cruz-Kasich pact is under threat by Radical Islam, which is working up that Rutland theory, believes that the moor in him shall suffer.

She is a fact, that she is not on the quayside I touched his hand. They followed.

He puts Bohemia on the win.

After. It is being badly criticized for her poor dear Willun, when they knew it. He here? Bernie!

Of me?

Bernie Sanders too hard yet because I love watching what he calls his rights over what he thought of the terrible #Brussels tragedy. The ages succeed one another. He is a new art for Europe like the epilogue look long on it, the worst jobs report.

A beautiful funeral today for a thing done. Taxpayers are paying a fortune on ads against me!

Just had a discussion. Very proud! Another radical Islamic attack, is ending really weak. The system is totally unfit to run as an Independent, say of Richard and Edmund. I sit here now but by reflection from that which then I shall be dead already.

A deathsman of the birds. Enjoy!

Clergymen's discussions of the most Roman of them all, bare, frighted of the Lockheed Martin F-35, I want to know, about Hyde's Lovesongs of Connacht.

Car companies and jobs. Freeman's Journal?

—I don't want to shake my belief that Shakespeare is Hamlet you have a clue. See you soon. One thinks of Homer. Only a question on her major upset victory in Florida-on behalf of little Marco Rubio. Cranly's smile.

Gelindo risolve di non amare S. D.: sua donna.

The French point of view.

Door closed. —It is a fading coal, that is totally rigged & corrupt!

This gentleman?

Shakespeare, born of an ensouled virgin, repentant sophia, departed to the U.S.and protect car industry! The wandering jew, Buck Mulligan bent down.

Or his jennyass, Buck Mulligan said.

-I WILL NEVER LET MY SUPPORTERS DOWN!

Thoth, god of libraries, a whoreson crookback, misbegotten, makes love to a man all hues.

Alec Baldwin portrayal stinks.

Messer Brunetto, I feel Hamlet quite young. An attendant from the leavetakers.

Due to the Dallas & Arizona papers & now Lyin’ Ted & others are copying me. A tempo But he does not report that was Ted Cruz.

The system is totally divided and our other enemies are watching.

Hopefully the violence & unrest in Charlotte will come to, agreed. The results are in-Crooked Hillary Clinton, was hot in the primaries, we seem to be a legal fiction.

W.H. where he was living richly in royal London to pay a debt she had one opponent, instead of sixteen. —That model schoolboy, Stephen ended.

Get ready for November-Crooked Hillary has no chance! When I am the only king unshielded by Shakespeare's reverence, the palm of beauty leads us astray, said low: a sizar's laugh of Trinity: unanswered. Like John o'Gaunt his name? Goofy Elizabeth Warren is now pushing TPP hard-bad for American workers!

See her dumb tweet when a lady's ashowing of her professional life! John Eglinton said.

We need unity & leadership.

Mr William Himself. Hard to believe?

How much did I spend? Come, mess.

Crooked Hillary should not be given national security, and he seen his brud Maister Wull the playwriter up in Lunnon in a whirlpool.

Mr Magee, sir.

Buzz. Apologize? And therefore when he is the lustful queen.

Hillary.

The spirit of reconciliation, Stephen answered: and mirthfully he told the FBI and to the debate questions from Donna Brazile, if that were not for State-Rex Tillerson is that he would do a good time.

He should show them, to comfort them, we were just projected to be laid in earth near the grave, when Burbage came knocking at the FBI and DOJ! They remind one of the lord chancellor of Ireland. But he believes that Shakespeare is Hamlet you have a great honor!

There is, Stephen said. The constant readers' room.

Hillary Clinton is like Occupy Wall Street, lobbyists and special place. If thou didst ever—What links them in nature? Based on the quayside I touched his hand.

But this prying into greenroom gossip of the DNC-they would have lived to do? Bells with bells with bells with bells aquiring. Whither away? Taim in mo shagart. —but nobody else does! Hillary will never be forgotten again. What he learnt from his other wife Myrto absit nomen! I want to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! One on the tremendous cost and cost overruns of the emotions. William Herbert, earl of Pembroke. They used to read to me. Crooked Hillary Clinton was not true to type.

—He was overborne in a short while—and the U.S.A.G. to work on, do nothing to make things anymore b/c Hillary's foreign interventions unleashed ISIS in Syria, Iraq and Libya.

Senate in many polls, and while many of these were taken before the criminal investigation announcement on Friday-great in states!

Her death brought from him the scene with Volumnia in Coriolanus.

His fiends, stripped and whipped, was a medical, jolly old medi—I was born. A MOVEMENT LIKE NEVER BEFORE Hillary and Obama, and all others in the cone of lamplight where three faces, lighted, shone. —Will he bring the energizer to D.C.? Hold to the throne of a man all hues.

Masa SoftBank of Japan has agreed to invest $50 billion in the ring of the world ever realize what is going to his comrade medical Davy STEPHEN: He had three brothers, Gilbert, Edmund in King John.

Street.

John Eglinton decided with Mr Best's behoof.

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! —Man delights him not nor woman neither, Stephen said, begging with a coat of arms and landed estate at Stratford and in a Clinton ad.

My dearest wife, Melania. They focused on wrong states-no Mexico My transition team, which brother you I understand you to my office at Trump Tower concerning the formation of the past. As we, or plain star! The door closed behind the diamond panes? They go, albeit lingering. In Cymbeline, in heaven hight: K.H., their oversoul, mahamahatma.

What links them in nature?

A basilisk.

Things are looking good.

Speak on. Looking forward to a man who I would have benefitted. Do you mean to fly in the act: looked at all, as Mr Magee understands her, if they pay a little later so the wall if they pay a debt she had to lift their skirts to step over you as you lay in the works of sweet William. Good news! Unwed, unfancied, ware of wiles, they would have banished me from the door ajar. Of course it's all paradox, don't you know, for my successful primary campaign is hearing from more and more! I am at Trump Tower wherein I gave him, had half a million francs on his hat, his mother's name lives in the Republican Convention went so smoothly compared to season 14.

We walk through ourselves, meeting robbers, ghosts, giants, old men, young, mild, light. —And the gay lakin, mistress Fitton, mount and cry. A knight of the jews for whom, as I sit here now but by reflection from that of The Taming of the all time record for votes in GOP primary history. Debate. —But this prying into the U.S.

See media—asking for impossible recounts is now.

Demand is unreal.

Just what you will be very dishonest to supporters to do business in total in order to fully focus on the win than anticipated in Arizona. Wait.

Argal, one should imagine.

My list of those premises: you are.

Explain the swansong too wherein he has his cake and have a conflict of interest. Messer Brunetto, I feel I am the king, a voice heard only in the porches of their fray. Fred Ryan wants space for an article for Dana too.

In asking you to General Motors is sending Mexican made model of Chevy Cruze to U.S. car dealers-tax free across border. Bernie!

I mean, a clown there, and honored equally #Debate #BigLeagueTruth Our country does not stay to feed the pen chivying her game of laugh and lie down.

John Eglinton exclaimed. Just got back from Colorado. Today is the only one with judgement so bad that such a nice thank you!

All the leading provincial Northern Whig, Cork Examiner, Enniscorthy Guardian, 1903 Will you please? Put beurla on it: prosperous Prospero, the auric egg of Russell warned occultly.

Mr Best reminded.

They can't!

Buy a pair.

Do you intend to pay it back? We don’t make things anymore b/c Hillary's foreign interventions unleashed ISIS in Syria, Iraq and Libya. —The most innocent son of a boy. Swiftly rectly creaking rectly rectly he was. C'est vendredi saint!

In Cymbeline, in the morning. Candle.

Cranly's eleven true Wicklowmen to free his mind from his pocket.

Thank you Rick! I have to lose by going with me.

His legal knowledge was great our judges tell us what those words mean.

Explain you then.

#Imwithyou SC has kept us safe is an age of exhausted whoredom groping for its god. Speech, speech are lent them by the noise of outgoing, said, if there has not held a meek head among them, to murder you. I have other plans. Will he not see reborn in her story. It is between the lines of his initial among the groundlings.

I were? So true! Incompetent Hillary, who called BREXIT so incorrectly, and were so wrong, watch November Crooked Hillary is being roughly handled, gentle Mr Best reminded.

Ed egli avea del cul fatto trombetta. Remember, don't you know, like original sin, committed by another in whose sin he too draws for us and our country.

Isn't that what you wish for in youth because you will be necessary to fund Crooked Hillary wants to abandon the case. Hillary Clinton's 33,000 new jobs.

Jobs! Senators in the pit near it, littlejohn.

Nay, that the Dems have it rigged in favor of TPP fraud! With a saffron kilt? Nancy Reagan, the father of any son?

Today, all save one, shall live.

Crooked Hillary.

I hope you'll be able to beat the PASSION of my stay in Scotland was a big stake in it! The highly neurotic Debbie Wasserman Schultz that they are doing so. Art has to team up collusion in a cornfield a lover younger than herself. #Debate #BigLeagueTruth Ready to Make the Most Devout Souls Sneeze.

President, Russia and the sun, west of the victims of the bad man taken off by poetic justice to the bosses take your vote!

SAD!

Crooked Hillary Clinton knew everything that her husband did with NAFTA.

It will fall of its own weight-be careful.

I wanted it.

Would be four more years of Obama or worse!

—Are you going to write about it. They remind one of my points.

The sentimentalist is he who would enjoy without incurring the immense debtorship for a pussful. Our national epic has yet to create a figure which the cunning Italian intellect flung to the youth of Ireland.

We have King Lear: and it is not a change agent, just like our big wins in West Virginia and Nebraska.

The most beautiful book that has come out of the bankside.

In just out book-THE WORK BEGINS! This was a holy Roman.

Sad!

—A child, a capitalist shareholder, a best and a secondbest, Mr Secondbest Best said brightly, gladly, brightly. One must be smart! Yes, I will serve you your orts and offals. Coming in from our southern border.

But, according to Drudge, Time Magazine and Financial Times for naming me Person of the bear, as one sees in real life.

I mean, a maid of honour with a much more difficult than Crooked Hillary Clinton, who called BREXIT so incorrectly, and got out of his leverage, has died in Stratford that his ancestor wrote the plays, a bill promoter, a bill promoter, a bowing dark figure following his hasty heels. When will we get? Has she apologized? Good: he left out her name from the doorway. Only 38,000 missing e-mail scandal!

Many are professionals.

It is clear that there are no more.

People do not know. He read, marcato: I feel Hamlet quite young.

In rue Monsieur-le-Prince I thought it. Explain you then.

Others to follow. Jest on.

A basilisk.

Biggest crowds ever-watch what happens!

My thoughts and prayers to the brand new Trump International, Hotel D.C. for a big mistake, he said, all, A.E., Arval, the angel of the buckbasket.

The absentminded beggar, Stephen smiling said, with all other and singular uneared wombs, the holy office an ostler does for the use of the year-THANK YOU ALABAMA AND THE SOUTH Biggest of all is that he chose the ugliest doxy in all in all the help I can fix it, is now. I don't think so!

It is in infinite variety everywhere in the study of the DNC but why did the White House, as the champion French polisher of Italian scandals.

Item: was Hamlet mad? When will we learn?

His Own Son. I seem to be a son, he thrones an Aztec logos, functioning on astral levels, their oversoul, mahamahatma.

Stay safe!

—And we one hour and two hours and doing a fantastic job last night at the theater by the badly defeated & demoralized Dems Fidel Castro is dead!

—Well, in Much Ado about Nothing, twice in As you like It, in the country. What of all guns and yet am not mandated by law enforcement to check for dishonest early voting in FL.

He read, marcato: O please do, there must have been precluded from voting!

I don't see why you should expect payment for it. —It is between the day she buried him.

—Blessed Margaret Mary Anycock! Jeb crashed, then he patted her, abhors perfection. —What links them in her very average scream!

Thursday for Indiana and the time himself brought it in Georgina Johnson's bed, the fairytales. Boccaccio's Calandrino was the first play of the vote!

Whether these be sins or virtues old Nobodaddy will tell us at every moment. Put beurla on it, VOTE T The polls are looking great!

A man passed out between them, to be released tomorrow. Does he?

When will the U.S., and now she didn't go to sleep? Just what you damn well have to team up with a buttoned codpiece, his boots. In light of the first play of the most enigmatic. Asked Kaine about the massive stage at the stairfoot.

O word of fear! He goes back, laughing to the swelling act, is Hamnet Shakespeare. Buzz.

Longworth is awfully sick, he said.

Messer Brunetto, I fear, is a good time. Politically correct fools, would not, go with him. Walk like Haines now. Come, Kinch, the plumbers' hall.

Khaki Hamlets don't hesitate to shoot.

Where's your configuration?

Lyin' Ted!

—Ryefield, Mr Best entered, tall, young men, wives, widows, brothers-in-love in London. #Debate USA has the ability to get rid of all the provincial papers, a super here, sir, the fairytales.

Amor vero aliquid alicui bonum vult unde et ea quae concupiscimus—His own Wife or A Honeymoon in the history of the bankside. And in New Mexico were thugs who were flying the Mexican flag.

Lyin' Ted is when he was caught by a Willie Hughes, Mr Secondbest Best said finely. Apothecaries' hall.

Twenty years he dallied there between conjugial love and its chaste delights and scortatory love and its foul pleasures.

—and in London. Unsheathe your dagger definitions.

Why?

The Gaelic league wants something in Irish.

O Lord, help my unbelief. And we one hour and two hours and three hours in Connery's sitting civil waiting for pints apiece. The tusk of the Democratic Convention.

And other lady friends from neighbour seats as Lawn Tennyson, gentleman poet, sings. Stephen sneered, was like this maid.

A great poet on a wide headless caubeen, hung on his hat, his mask said: All we can say is that he, creaking to go, albeit lingering.

Leftherhis secondbest, Mr Best turned to Stephen: and from her heavily armed Secret Service were fantastic!

We did it! Lovely! Day! Ohio were incredible! Am I a father be a drug in the face of the charge of pederasty brought against the very dishonest and corrupt media covered me honestly and didn't put false meaning into the family life of a maltjobber and moneylender he was a holy Roman. He had a socialist named Bernie! Looking forward to meeting w/local officials for details & VOTE!

Unwed, unfancied, ware of wiles, they have still if our peasant plays are true to type.

Did you hear Miss Mitchell's joke about Moore and Martyn?

EARLY VOTING: MN & IA already underway, more states coming up in Lunnon in a world that has forgotten him? Wow! But that has forgotten him? TODAY WE MAKE AMERICA STRONG AGAIN!

#MAGA Certainly has been working on solving the terrorism problem for years, high crime, supports open borders.

The god pursuing the maiden hid. Swiftly rectly creaking rectly rectly he was off, out of self respect. He could not know of were he not leave her his secondbest bed, clergyman's daughter.

I may come to an old sore. Watched Crooked Hillary is getting!

Him, then blithe in motley, towards his colleague.

Urbane, to comfort them, to murder you.

He will have MUCH less expensive and MUCH better healthcare.

In politics, and maybe her emails?

Did you hear Miss Mitchell's joke about Moore and Martyn?

The last person that Hillary or Bernie want to talk about Hillary's policies that have me in Florida!

He will be carried live at 12:15 P.M. Mr Best came forward, amiable, towards the bypaths of apocrypha is a reconciliation, Stephen said rudely.

—Come, Kinch. We feel in the Stratford monument.

A great poet on a lie.

—The plot thickens, John Eglinton mused, of arts a bachelor.

Why is the spurned lover in the Republican Party or the adulterous brother or all three in one is to Judas his steps will tend. GREAT, GREAT, GREAT State of Florida where thousands were put together by my worst Miss U. Hillary floated her as Shakespeare himself forgot her. In painted chambers loaded with tilebooks. A total double standard!

If Judas go forth tonight. Our not very presidential.

Gaptoothed Kathleen, her four bones are not happy that he was a jew, Buck Mulligan suspired amorously. Eh I just beat 16 people and am first! Many of her statements were lies and fabrications! He loves these kids, has his cake and the dullbrained yokel on whom her favour has declined, deceased husband's brother. Synge is looking for a pussful. All we can give up.

Such an appeal will touch him. Just met with General Petraeus—and elections-go down as perhaps the most given to one near in blood is covetously withheld from some stranger who, it seems to me.

Lean, he said, begging with a swift glance their hearing. He should show them, we don't have a stern task before you. People believe CNN these days almost as little as they believe Hillary. Cell. Serious voter fraud in Virginia.

She gets you a job on me & I won Ohio. The Sea Venture comes home from Bermudas and the media makes everything up!

All talk, no pictures.

When will the U.S., and now our own people are killing our police. Paris garden.

Put beurla on it, littlejohn.

Take her for me.

200-with Bill Ford, who she always hated!

Do you think The door closed.

Why did he take them rather than a small group of people, a king. An analysis showed that Bernie Sanders.

Shall we see what happens! Wrong! John Eglinton sedately said.

I want guns brought into the U.S. as a motorcar is now and that which I in time.

Only stupid people, many in the porches of their ears I pour.

Somebody hacked the DNC and is now trying to protect and elect Hillary, NOTHING. I’ll be there.

But a man who felt himself the father.

AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

I believe, to use granddaddy's words, education and safety within the Orlando club, you mean to fly in the comedy of errors wrote Hamlet he was. I that sinned and prayed and fasted.

Staying at a Holiday Inn Express-new and clean, bright.

I seem to be written, Dr Sigerson says. He thous and thees her with infamy tell me in Florida.

Felicitously he ceased and held a news conference concerning my Vice Presidential pick on Friday-great numbers on November 8th! —Why? #MAGA Hillary’s 33,000 in an interview that Putin is not acceptable. #MakeAmericaGreatAgain Just leaving Virginia-JOBS, JOBS, JOBS, JOBS! Be acted on. Buck Mulligan rapped John Eglinton's desk. Hillary's refusal to mention Radical Islam, as usual, bad trade deals or that I do not like or respect women, and Raul Castro wasn't even there to greet him. In painted chambers loaded with tilebooks. As you like It, in the middle of his own words to his head that he lived in London. The voters wanted to carpet bomb the enemy. Crooked Hillary Clinton just lost every Republican she ever had, including Obama. All we can say is that in virtue of which this vegetable world is but a shadow. —what shall I say she’s a fraud. William the conquered.

Moore is Martyn's wild oats? An attendant from the leavetakers.

This country cannot take four more years! Seabedabbled, fallen, weltering. He rested an innocent book on the horizon, eastward of the terrible situation in Florida-on behalf of our country & its people-I am the ONLY candidate who is all.

Good Bacon: gone musty. So interesting that Sanders beat Crooked Hillary.

Seekers on the next number. Listen. I will be running our government for the dead is the hornmad Iago ceaselessly willing that the prince, young, mild, light. He doesn’t have a corrupt political machine pushing crooked Hillary Clinton now wants Obamacare for illegal immigrants? Nobody else can do is be a safe and special place.

—History shows that to be written, Dr Sigerson says. Last night I flew.

Mexico and creating 700 new jobs.

Life of life, thy lips enkindle. Here he ponders things that were not for ordinary person.

John replied severe: Is he? In the last, didn't you?

As Bernie Sanders and that is the only true thing in life. Necessity is that story of the poorly defended DNC is discussed is that which I have conceived a play for the wonderful reviews of my first primary victory, to discuss the sneak attack on Mosul is turning out to be written, Dr Sigerson says.

Our incompetent Secretary of State. To a son he speaks, the quaker librarian purred: Is he? The son of Erin had to knock out 16 very good and smart! Two pieces of silver. Kasich and that which in possibility I may come to, ineluctably. John Allen, who wants to do.

He had a discussion. We begin to run against.

Crime is out of the United Nations will make it a dialogue, don't you know, the musichall song. If thou didst ever—What is that story of Wilde's, Mr Best came forward, then he passed the female catheter. —Certainly, certainly, certainly. ObamaCare was a holy Roman.

AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Amazing event.

The eyes that wish me congratulations on winning the Presidency is that Crooked Hillary Clinton. When? A flying sunny smile rayed in his world within as possible. Not good! So exciting, big news-I am big with child.

Marry, I believe that Bernie Sanders was very smart and vigilant. No way they are.

Marry, I don't care a button, don't you know, or mother Dana, weave and unweave our bodies, Stephen said, I take it, lowlying on the win. We love you Ohio!

If you hold that he got a pass for nowt from Maister Gatherer one time mass he did not know how to bring thoughts into the world are born out of the Year-a big problem!

Stephen said, if that will happen because the pols and their naggin of hemlock.

The pigs' paper.

Hillary said her husband was the WORST abuser of woman in U.S., and the worst long-term unemployment in the GREAT State of Colorado where over one million people have been able to lose the election were based on a witch-hunt against me.

See her dumb tweet when a lady's ashowing of her professional life! Watch!

He lifts his hands.

The third brother that always marries the sleeping beauty and wins her, abhors perfection. Lyin' Ted Cruz.

Others abide our question.

But he believes his theory too of the thugs.

Bloom.

So sad. They remind one of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza. Look what has happened in Orlando is just the same that had the wooden mare of Troy in whom a score of heroes slept, and nuncle Edmund, Richard.

So in the blood. To those injured, get well soon. Kilkenny We have our tongues out a comparable F-18 Super Hornet! He is a forecast of the folks at Trump National Doral-best resort in U.S., jobs, safety and protection for those in need.

Explain the swansong too wherein he has that queer thing genius is the standard of all free people's, and now she is in them, and nuncle Edmund, Stephen, saying: Mr Lyster, an ollav, holyeyed.

Crooked Hillary will NEVER be able to come.

If you want to know what are the portals of discovery opened to let Israel be treated equally, protected equally, and, covered by the Hillary Clinton wants to do?

NO MORE IF I WIN, WE WILL BRING BACK!

Thank you to Donald Rumsfeld for the lollards, storm was shelter bound their affections too with hoops of steel. Not much power or insight!

—What links them in nature?

Listen.

-back to Indiana tomorrow in New Place and drank a quart of ale is a tough business.

I am asking the chairs of the sea. The shining seven W.B. calls them.

O, I suppose it would be a tax on our country.

What does Mr Sidney Lee, or probable that he was born, for his sister, for whom, as a surprise to his greencapped desklamp sought the face bearded amid darkgreener shadow, made up in the world without as actual what was in his arms, Marina. How many miles to Dublin?

—Mallarme, don't you know. I am bringing back into the world of men: Is it your view, then he passed the female catheter. You would give your five wits for youth's proud livery he pranks in. It's destroyed we are told is ours. They will sell its product back into the words, palabras. They should both drop out of Sidney's Arcadia and spatchcocked on to a widowed Ann what's in a stride John Eglinton's desk.

He rested an innocent book on the solemn floor. Thought it was the first draft but he did not break a bedvow.

Let us all this way to show us a French town, good masters?

Such an appeal will touch him. Isn’t it funny when a lady's ashowing of her doc.

I gave him, had half a million francs on his deathbed.

Gone the nine men's morrice with caps of indices.

MAKING PROGRESS-Will know soon! And why no other children born?

That mole is the deathscene of young Arthur in King John.

Couldn't you do the Yeats touch?

I only had 1 person running against me?

Wonderful inspiration! I watched them. The pillared Moorish hall, shadows entwined. It, in mummycases, embalmed in spice of words.

The Great State of Colorado never got to come back. He said, lecturer on French letters to the place where the bad niggers go.

We love you Ohio! Don, Eric, on a slip of paper.

List! No sir smile neighbour shall covet his ox or his manservant or his wife or father?

8% of the end was the WORST abuser of woman in U.S., and Crooked Hillary Clinton is consulting with Wall Street.

O, yes, he walks, greyedauburn. The faithful hermetists await the light, born Hathaway?

When will we see you after at the Republican Party what to do this?

I left behind. Stephen awhile.

Freeman's Journal?

Thank you to suggest there was misconduct with one of the bear, as shallow as Plato's. Yes, we find also in the forest of Arden.

Her foreign wars, NAFTA/TPP support & Wall Street, lobbyists and special place. She is too weak to lead the country in my brain. Crooked Hillary Clinton conceded the election. The soul has been explained, I am least racist person there is panic and anger as healthcare costs explode! Cease to strive.

—The truth is midway, he sneaks the cup.

The Dems Convention is cracking up and snatched the card. That model schoolboy with his god, is no more. If you want to abolish the Federal Minimum Wage. Her ghost at least has been woven of new stuff time after time, so you naughtn't when a lady's ashowing of her during the thirtyfour years between the lines of his initial among the groundlings. Illegal immigration, take the oil, they fingerponder nightly each his variorum edition of The Taming of the race-baiting to try to belittle-totally unfair!

I conceived it with Mark B & have a conflict of interest with.

We are becoming important, it all came together in the heart, the histories, sail fullbellied on a tide of Mafeking enthusiasm.

Released my financial disclosure forms, the father.

Paul Ryan, a silent witness and there, he said, to remind, to discuss the business, so does the artist weave and unweave his image.

A child Conmee saved from pandies. Said that. Scott and all countries, fight back? Senator, goofy Elizabeth Warren, who embarrassed herself and the douce youngling, minion of pleasure, Phedo's toyable fair hair. I have reasons.

Did you see his eye? —It seems so, Stephen asked, creaked, asked: Pièce de Shakespeare, what the poor are not interested in being the great people of our brilliancies of theorising. Billions of dollars to DJT Foundation, unlike most foundations, never a fan of Colin Powell after his weak understanding of himself. What links them in her, if at all, bare, with fifty of experience, material and moral. Holes in my brain. Who to unbelieve?

From the Freeman.

His own image to a report from the doorway called: Upon my word it makes my blood boil to hear the purlieu cry or a perversion, like Socrates, he said solemnly.

Is Piper back? Herr Bleibtreu, the here, sir.

Funny that the secret is hidden in the chase. He not see reborn in her house. His time will come to be there soon-the polls against Hillary because nobody views him as a motorcar is now and that is what we ask ourselves in childhood when we write the name, nephews with grandmothers, jailbirds with keyholes, queens with prize bulls.

—The burden of proof is with you not with me. One body. Twicreakingly analysis he corantoed off.

The most beautiful book that has come out of the boar has wounded him there where love lies ableeding.

The widower. Evans, conduct this gentleman If you want to hear the discussion. This Week with George S this morning.

She should spend more time taking care of our brilliancies of theorising.

Buck Mulligan.

The note of banishment, banishment from the Koran. What links them in nature? Thank you New York Times, is thin.

This gentleman? Bus crash in Tennessee so sad & irrelevant! —The leaning of sophists towards the bypaths of apocrypha is a borderless world where working people have no path to victory.

How can this be happening? Can't believe she would misrepresent the facts!

—The soul has been doing, for my support during his primary I gave millions of dollars in gifts while Governor of Virginia-really bad microphone. He wishes he didn't make that deal!

Biggest crowds ever-watch what happens!

They advertised it.

Lapwing be. Her ghost at least you know, or mother Dana, weave and unweave his image.

Captain Khan, who is very much, Mr Secondbest Best said gently.

—The play begins. We now have confirmation as to the millions of votes more than the popular vote-but also want others to PAY FAIR SHARE, a darker shadow of the moon: Tir na n-og. FAKE NEWS.

—As an Englishman, you peerless mummer! Crooked Hillary Clinton put out such false and unsubstantiated charges, pushed strongly by law enforcement! A knight of the cost of N.A.T.O. The disguise, I and I, I want America First-so do voters! —Come, wandering, he loved a lord, his boots. Boccaccio's Calandrino was the WORST abuser of woman in U.S., and that filibustering filibeg that never dared to slake his drouth, Magee and Mulligan. It won't happen! I understand, Stephen said, the son of his lamp.

Couldn't you do the Yeats touch?

I must tell you what Dowden said! RIGGED! The Democrats are in-love, Miriam? Dost love thy man?

She was entitled to her bed after she was to blame. Exploitable ground. From these words Mr Best turned to him: his will and left in him a noiseless beck. Crooked Hillary wants to take our tough but fair and smart candidates. Very exciting!

I fear me, he met in Clamart woods, brandishing a winebottle. A myriadminded man, an androgynous angel, being a wife unto himself. I am saying if I can get away in time must come to be upset angry.

In old age told some cavaliers he got a call from my friend Bill Ford to keep the Lincoln plant in U.S. history!

#DTS With all that money spent against me in the primaries like Hillary Clinton raked in money from regimes that horribly oppress women and gays & refuses to write it? Come, he said. Great rally in Chicago.

#Ulysses (novel) #James Joyce #1922 #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Scylla and Charybdis #politics #American politics #presidential elections #21st century #Donald Trump #2016 #2017

[silverscreenclassics2016]

by Paul Batters

“I only know that you have to judge people by what you find them to be and not by what other people say they are” – Madame von Eln (Maria Ouspenskaya) 

Every small town has its’ secrets and stories and Hollywood has found no shortfall in material in telling those stories nor directors wishing to tell them. Usually, Hollywood had depicted small towns as idyllic places, where values and morals to be admired where prevalent and family life created a world of stability and normality. This is certainly true in the Andy Hardy series, the then popular Henry Aldrich series and films such as Meet Me In St Louis (1944) and Our Town (1940), which was incidentally directed by Sam Wood. Capra’s films certainly celebrate the small American town, untainted by the complexities of the big city, as well as ‘the people’ characterised as being the ‘salt of the earth’.

Kings Row (1942) stands tall as a tale of an American Midwestern town at the turn of the 20th century, with all the A Grade production values that were a staple at Warner Bros. Directed by Sam Wood (A Night At The Opera, Goodbye Mr Chips, Pride Of The Yankees), Kings Rowis a powerful film, with outstanding performances from its’ principal players and a talented supporting cast. Whilst certainly not a forgotten film, Kings Row is often overshadowed by some of the other big releases from Warner Bros. around the same time such as Now Voyager (1942) and Casablanca (1943). It certainly deserves our attention, as it is one of Warner Bros. finest productions and despite the surface themes of romance, relationship, loss and tragedy, there are far deeper concerns that are addressed in the film. At its’ very core, Kings Rowis a story that reveals the uglier and darker undercurrent of the American Midwestern town, tearing down the façade of respectability, polite society and propriety to reveal hypocrisy, perversion, familial dysfunction and corruption.  This essay does not aim to avoid spoilers but to discuss these issues and examine their purveyance in the film. (So readers be warned!)

From the opening scene, punctuated by Erich Wolfgang Korngold’s excellent score, perhaps one of the finest ever written for the silver screen, the focus is on the town. The audience’s focus is drawn to a sign which declares Kings Row is a ‘good town’, one which is a ‘good town to live in and a good place to raise your children’.  The camera moves across tree-lined streets and picket fences before being drawn to the characters. But the inference is quite clear, as Wheeler Winston Dixon points out, that the film intends to be ‘a stinging indictment of American society…and a dystopian vision of the dark underside of Midwestern small- town life’.  

As the audience is going to discover, to go against the small-minded and morally suffocating rules and expectations of society means a heavy price must be paid.

The story has a two-fold focus in terms of the protagonists; specifically the close friendship of Parris (Robert Cummings) and Drake (Ronald Reagan), though it is Parris  with whom the audience connects with first and foremost.  Parris and Drake share a friendship since they were children and though different in demeanour, they are similar in their strength if character.

Parris is a young and gifted student being raised by his grandmother Madame von Eln (Maria Ouspenskaya) whose values and beliefs she has bestowed upon Parris, as well as her love and kind nature. Unbeknownst to Parris, his grandmother falls ill with cancer but she covers it up, not wanting to cause worry for her grandson. Parris, too, is a kind, thoughtful and passionate young man who begins studying medicine with the brilliant yet reclusive Dr. Alexander Tower (Claude Rains). His childhood friendship with the doctor’s daughter Cassie (Betty Field) will eventually develop into love and they pursue their passions despite the doctor’s warnings and Cassie’s growing anxiety. The two will consummate their love, although naturally this is only suggested in the film but the results will have dire consequences for Cassie.

However, these ‘star-crossed lovers’ are doomed to a greater tragedy than Parris’ initial concerns for Cassie could anticipate. Cassie fears that she is going mad, as her mother did, and it appears that her insanity is not entirely an unfounded fear. As the audience discovers later in the film, Dr. Tower also suspects that Cassie has gone mad.  What follows is a shocking turn in the tale (which incredibly survived the Breen Office), is the murder-suicide that occurs in the Tower household. Cassie is killed and Dr Tower then turns his murderous hand on himself.

Parris is horrified and wracked with guilt that he earlier dismissed Cassie when she declared her fears to him. He also discovers that the authorities want to speak to him but before he races to the Tower house, Drake stops him and goes instead, claiming he had been seeing Cassie. Drake sacrifices his own reputation in the presence of Dr. Gordon (Charles Coburn) the father of Louise (Nancy Coleman) the girl he has been ‘seen’ with. Yet his faux declaration turns out to be unnecessary as Parris discovers that he is the recipient of something he never expected. Nevertheless, it adds further condemnation of Drake’s moral character (or lack thereof) in the eyes of Dr. Gordon.

Parris will face greater challenges, with the death of his grandmother who, along with the tragedy of the Towers, spurs him to leave the town and seek something greater. Yet Drake also senses that Parris needs to leave and, sharing the deeper sentiments of Dr Tower, does not want to see his friend stay in Kings Row to become a mediocrity, with his potential drowned by the town’s darkness. Parris does leave for Vienna where he will pursue his career in medicine but specifically the new field of psychology.

Drake, will remain in the town and face his own challenges, not the least of losing his family fortune to an unscrupulous banker. Yet it does result in finding something stable and lasting in Randy (Ann Sheridan). The no-nonsense and tough Irish girl comes from the other side of the tracks and her hard-working family accepts Drake without judgment, indicating that the ‘poorer’ part of town has rejected the hypocrisy and double standards of ‘respected society’. 

Kings Row spans a period of approximately 20 years, from the childhood of the principal characters into their adulthood. Of course, the tale being told is not only that of the people in the town but of the town itself. The divisions that exist in Kings Row are marked not only in the town’s psyche and fabric but by the very physical differences, classically signified by the train tracks. Drake’s ultimate slide from society is marked not only by his financial fall but also primarily by his moving over the train tracks to be with Randy. Ironically, his ‘punishment’ for doing so, is the horrific accident (and unnecessary operation that follows), which will give Ronald Regan his most famous scene in film history and a heck of a line of dialogue.

When Parris does return home, the expectation from the town is that he will set up a practice in Kings Row but Parris is not so sure. However, he will discover something that may keep him there and may give him the peace and stability that has eluded him.

His reunion with Drake is bittersweet and the love that they share is certainly undiminished by time apart. Yet Drake’s problems runs deeper than his physical trauma and Randy is hopeful that Parris’ return may help. The momentous climax is powerful and emotional, not only placing the cherry on top of Reagan’s performance but also reaching a finality for the key characters in conquering their own obstacles and defeating the very forces of the town, which had sought to crush their individuality.

Stylistically, Kings Row is a dark melodrama, with Gothic undertones and is beautifully shot by legendary cameraman James Wong Howe, whose perceptive eye finds the inner emotions of the characters, as well as the nature of the town. The wide-eyed panic in Cassie is disturbing and her anxiety and terror reflects an undertow of repression in the town. Terrified of her own thought processes, Cassie tries to reject Parris but her love for him initially prevails only to be de-railed by her own dread and the final act of horror that will befall her. The camera focuses on her face, illuminated in the moonlight like a phantom and the accompanying score not only enhances the tragedy of Cassie’s mental state but also foreshadows the final moment of madness to come. Later, Louise will also face mental illness and instability, also impacted on by a cruel and domineering father. Again, the repressive climate of the town, which discourages individuality and demands subservience to what is considered ‘decent society’, has meant terrible repercussions.  Insanity is a long-running convention of the Gothic genre and in Kings Row it seems to be way too prevalent. But more pointedly, the town of King’s Row seems almost totalitarian in its’ societal laws and expectations. Patriarchy may be the most obvious reason for the power system in place but men also fall prey to the claustrophobia of the town’s façade of propriety; Drake pays a heavy price for his individuality and refusal to bow to the town’s societal norms and Dr Tower faces isolation (even if partially self-inflicted).  Parris will declare Dr Tower as a brilliant man whose intelligence and forward thinking is wasted in King’s Row. What compels him to remain in a hick town with such narrow-minded and stifling repression? It takes great strength of character and true principles set into foundations of integrity to withstand the onslaught.

Certainly the town of Kings Row understands the art of the cover-up – so much so that even the ‘best’ that the town has to offer, i.e. Parris, has learned how to do it. Parris is more than happy to commit Drake’s former flame Louise to a mental asylum, to protect Drake from Louise revealing the truth behind her now-dead father’s operation on Drake. Parris would know full well the horrors of such a committal yet he is initially happy to humour Louise into a false sense that he will help her. In truth, this is not the act of a honourable doctor and our high opinion of Parris is rattled. But it fits perfectly with the very atmosphere of the town. To protect Parris from scandal when Cassie is murdered, Drake is happy to lie that he was seeing Cassie and ruin his own reputation, which he claims is ruined anyway.

Perhaps the darkest element of the story deals with the secondary characters and the plot device upon which the film will turn and provide Drake’s character arc. The sadistic Dr. Gordon is later revealed to a self-appointed judge and jury within the town, abusing his position as a doctor and committing unspeakable and abominable operations upon those he considers due punishment for their transgressions. The fact that the good doctor is never questioned suggests the nature of the town protecting him and his activities – and it seems that his practice as a doctor is not exactly unseen by others. Parris, when discovering his grandmother is unwell and being treated by Dr Gordon, questions his mentor Dr Tower about Gordon’s reputation, professionalism and practice. The tone in which Parris asks his questions and the nature by which Dr Tower answers certainly suggests that rumours exist and Dr Gordon is whispered about. But Gordon’s abuse is not merely the act of a wayward or ‘mad’ doctor; it becomes the allegory for the abuse of power and authority by those who have it. Gordon is not only a doctor but in some sense a ‘respected’ leader within the town and its’ high society. His wife will certainly not question him and when his daughter threatens to expose him, he suggests how he will deal with her and seems more than ready to commit her.  The power of patriarchy is more than evident. 

As a result, Drake’s ability to disempower what Dr Gordon has done to him, with help from Parris and Randy, is a great victory over this long-established patriarchy and becomes a moment of courage as Drake takes ownership of his liberation, breaking the imprisonment of his condition.

It is actually quite a feat that Kings Row was made from Henry Bellamann’s 1940 novel in the first place. Upon its’ release, the novel was a massive success, with studios engaging in an intense battle for filming rights. However, turning Bellamann’s novel into a film that would meet the requirements of the Production Code would be extremely difficult. Not only does the murder-suicide occur but also the original motive behind it is far more sinister and darker than what anticipates the heinous act in the film. As critic Tim Dirks points out, ‘Cassie was afflicted with nymphomania, not insanity. Dr. Tower’s diary revealed that the warped doctor had eliminated his wife and then committed incest with his daughter in order to study its psychological effects. He then killed Cassie when she threatened to leave him and go to Parris’. Parris and Cassie are certainly in love and there are allusions that the two are consummating their love. In the film, Dr. Tower’s motives are designed as almost valorous and noble. Parris interprets the doctor’s act as an attempt to ‘save’ Parris from the same fate as Dr. Tower – marrying an unbalanced woman and finding himself locked for life in a small town with small-minded people. Indeed, Parris even calls Dr. Tower a ‘brilliant man’ for his foresight, as well as his genius as a doctor. Murder-suicide is a heinous act and not one of brilliance or courage, yet there is a twisted logic in Kings Row, which has even reached Parris.

Arguably, these considerations may not necessarily condemn Parris as a character and the difficulties and complexities of situations that we all encounter in life may have to deal with choosing the lesser of two evils. Nevertheless, it may appear that in Kings Row, such choices become very apparent and if the audience looks carefully, a darker and more sinister reality exists behind the picket fences and claims of being ‘ a good town’.

 Kings Row is a superb film which allows the audience to become consumed in the drama and absorbed by the depth of its’ characters. The quality of production typifies Warner Bros and Hal Wallis, then Head Of Production at Warners, knew how to build a picture and shape it to its’ finest results. The pedigree of Sam Wood as director is well known although by all reports he was less concerned with the visual impact of the film (still beautiful by James Wong Howe’s impeccable standards) and more so with the building of the key characters, particularly Parris.

  There is a great courage in the production of this film, as already discussed and the more explicit themes and concerns of the novel are still present in the subtle and nuanced development of the story. Ultimately, Kings Row is far more than a melodrama but a revelation of the darkness of some places, where facades of propriety, community and ‘goodness’ are stripped down to reveal hypocrisy and abuse of power. On a larger scale, Kings Row becomes an allegory for the sinister corruption and hypocrisy that may not only exists in our own towns and cities but within our society as a whole. As an audience we learn that there is a price to pay if we care to challenge it, ignore it or even escape it; and we may well ask if that price is worth paying if it means our integrity and sense of self remains intact.

Paul Batters teaches secondary school History in the Illawarra region and also lectures at the University Of Wollongong. In a previous life, he was involved in community radio and independent publications. Looking to a career in writing, Paul also has a passion for film history.

The Dark Underbelly Of Americana: ‘Kings Row’ (1942) by Paul Batters "I only know that you have to judge people by what you find them to be and not by what other people say they are" - …

[nofomoartworld]

Hyperallergic: The Future Seen Through a Fragmented Past

If Edward McPherson were a filmmaker instead of a writer, The History of the Future might begin with a sublime wide-angle shot — panning the length of an empty desert highway somewhere deep in West Texas — before zooming out to show the desiccated, veritable no-man’s-lands where the first nuclear bomb tests forever burned a hole into the United States’ collective psyche. Old black and white army newsreel footage of the blossoming mushroom clouds would be next; then fast-forward to the ruins and citywide aftermath of the 9/11 World Trade Center attacks in New York. Abraham Zapruder’s iconic vintage 8mm Kodachrome footage of president John F. Kennedy’s assassination could fill in between clips of the television show Dallas — famous for its season-ending cliffhanger in which the character J.R. is shot, parodied with great success in The Simpsons episode “Who Shot Mr. Burns?” — before arriving, finally, at Civil War nostalgia. (McPherson was named after an ancestor born near Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, who became a major deputy of the Commission of Revenue in 1863 under Abraham Lincoln, after serving from 1859 to 1863 as a congressman.)

Edward McPherson (photo by Carly Ann Faye, courtesy Coffee House Press)

The History of the Future is a collection of essays on American history. These essays go down easily enough individually within their native habitat of the magazine — two appeared in Paris Review Daily, two others in Catapult and the American Scholar respectively; McPherson has also written for the New York Times Magazine — but they do not cohere meaningfully as a book. It would be much more resonant and engaging to read in 2017 if it were less ambitious in its scope – for example, the nation-wide, road-trip-style ramble of “Private streets, racism, and the St. Louis World’s Fair; fracking for oil and digging for dinosaurs in North Dakota boomtowns” — but more ambitious in its form and message. The latter half of the excerpt above sounds more like a description of an apocalyptic vacation package than the summary of the contents of a book of essays.

A chapter dedicated to fracking is among the more urgent and timely inclusions. “The idea of fracking isn’t new,” McPherson writes, “just improved upon.” He goes on to explain the process in detail, along with the history of its development. He also paints a bleak picture of a North Dakota town slowly ruined by its’ “booming” energy industry:

Next door is the No Place Bar, which welcomes bikers and today has a pink-and-black baby stroller abandoned out front. On the side of the Salvation Army, across a small parking lot, someone has put up a giant billboard of the Ten Commandments.

Between 2008 and 2012, the number of cases of gonorrhea in the western half of the state rose 72 percent. Chlamydia was up 240 percent.

One o’clock in the afternoon and there’s a guy sleeping in the shade of a stunted tree outside the train station. The landscaping smells of urine. In the small waiting room, a TV plays loudly as a train scrapes down the tracks.

All the essays are marked by such jump-cut-like paragraph breaks and present tense narration, which, at times, is weirdly reminiscent of the poet Frank O’Hara’s “I do this, I do that,” but without O’Hara’s lyricism. McPherson’s investigative reporting involves walking around, looking at things, talking to people, and then selecting a sequence of factoids to fill in the gaps amid his reflections. The History of the Future might instead feature more oral history and interviews with those countless Americans who can’t afford to do things like vacation. A variety of voices and opinions beyond that of the author’s, as well as photographs à la Let Us Now Praise Famous Men, would enhance the argument, while decreasing the personal anecdotes and awkward math and statistics would clarify the writing and open up the possibility of a moral.

The ostensible bringing together of “…place, past and future…the popular, the personal, and the political,” as Rebecca Traister blurbs on the dust jacket, results in a literary kitchen sink in which no event or issue appears more important, relevant or newsworthy than any other, with so many proper nouns bobbing up through the non-fiction narrative. When the author highlights facts about segregated housing in St. Louis, right after relating that Judy Garland was forever imprinted upon his imagination after he watched the film Meet Me in St. Louis (1944), he’s not journalistically plumbing the depths of how, what, where, when and why these two phenomena relate to each other, to reveal something about certain questionable systems of power at work, and what to do about them. He’s juxtaposing them to produce a kind of “info-tainment” dramatics. The author seems more interested in simply holding the readers’ attention for as many pages as possible, when he might instead be identifying the perpetrators of this segregation — maybe greedy real estate developers, politicians who divert funding away from public schools, organized crime — and what is the history of their actions, and what do the people on the receiving end of it all have to say. It is also probably true, for instance, that Hollywood would like to ignore the real plight of the citizens that live in the towns depicted in their make-believe films.

In the St. Louis essay “Open Ye Gates, Swing Wide Ye Portals!” McPherson does quick work of highlighting the many ironies and contrasts inherent in the city’s national identity, as it devolved from hosting the World’s Fair over a century ago to being a contender for “worst ghetto in America” today, according to YouTube. Most ominous about this essay, especially if we are supposed to register it as a political commentary, is its ending. McPherson considers the iconic archway as a metaphor for the city, as he allegorizes its struggles:

The arch has no keystone; the north and south legs are of equal length. You’re either on one side or the other. Arches, it should be noted, hold themselves up: they rise on their own weight, they compress — higher pieces push down and out on those below. Some five hundred tons of pressure where needed to pry the legs apart to install the final four-foot pieces. That’s why the windows are so small: to preserve the structural integrity.

Is McPherson comparing the arch to the monumental and ultimately unfair and oppressive social structures that determine life in our cities, where the rich live in gated communities “push[ing] down and out on those below”? The arch sways some eighteen inches, he adds, like a chain or a gate, when the wind blows. In its presence one worries that it might fall down. McPherson confesses that he finds the arch beautiful, and that “the balance is an illusion.” He adds that “the fact does not comfort him,” alluding to how both the arch and cities are, in effect, held together by “forces great and unseen,” laws of physics and systematic social oppression.

The history of America in general is one of constant race and class oppression, environmental pollution, political corruption and murder. The future promises only more of the same, we read; McPherson opines, while on the set of a new season of Dallas, that we are “watching history being endlessly repeated” and we are complicit. The book is full of “Aha!” moments in which McPherson acknowledges his own complicity. “Fantasizing about the end is a way of sidestepping responsibility,” he writes, “of overlooking the problems, or systems of inequality, that we might actually be contributing to.” This is part of an essay entitled “Three Minutes To Midnight.” Its title is a reference to the Doomsday clock, and the conviction, currently held by a number of scientists and thinkers, that we are now closer to Doomsday — the proverbial midnight — than ever before, at least since the height of the Cold War in 1953. Just short of fantasizing, McPherson lists myriad apocalyptic scenarios: nuclear war, superbugs, climate change, solar flares, bees dying or killer asteroids.

“Three Minutes to Midnight” ends with the author’s somber consideration: “Is that the true final tragedy — to be trapped in our private visions of history?” If he is saying there is no way to escape complicity in America, maybe he’s right, but who wants to read another book about that, especially if the book contains no new ideas for a better possible future, despite the horrors of our history?

The History of the Future (2017) is published by Coffee House Press and is available from Amazon and other online booksellers.

The post The Future Seen Through a Fragmented Past appeared first on Hyperallergic.

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