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mxtantrights · 3 years

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past lives | 7

a/n: we’re coming to the end. I wanna preface this, since this is a reader insert, I'm not gonna kill you off. I save that for my OCs (tee-hee) but then also you kinda did die didn’t you?, eh it’s kinda tricky but hey here’s the next part! enjoy!!

You looked at the new phone on your sleek white desk. It had been dropped off by someone this morning before you got into work. Someone who knew you needed a phone, someone who needed to be in contact with you.

You knew exactly who it was.

And if your intuition wasn’t enough, a text can through.

Gotham Academy. 1pm. Pick up the package.

It was close to twelve thirty according to the clock on your new phone. Which meant you had about twenty minutes to get to Gotham Academy, almost seven avenues away.

You grab your coat, bag and your phone and walk out of your office. In the hallway you run into Fallon. You tell them that you’re handling something for your Aunt and you should be back before three.

Even though Ra's al Ghul gave you orders, you had built a life for yourself. You couldn’t let it crumble.

Into the elevator and down twenty levels, you jog out of the building. Outside you reach the sidewalk and wave your hand to hail a cab. It would be much easier than ordering a ride share and you could tip greatly for increased speed.

Sure enough a black bag pulls up.

You open the backdoor quickly and get in.

“I need to get to Gotham Academy. Quickly! I’ll pay you a weeks worth”

The driver wasted no time- not even to hassle you into putting on a seatbelt. You reach into your bag and take out your special debit card. It was only used in case of emergencies, and this was.

You swiped it through the machine in front of you. You paid for the ride first.

“I make about 540, I don’t think-” the driver begins.

You then made out your tip to be 540, which should have been invalidated, but it went through. And the driver was the amount come up on his fare dial. He laughs a bit but he also increases the speed.

He doesn’t talk much on account of the fact that he’s speeding and trying to get you to Gotham Academy in the least legal ways. And he gets you there with five minutes to spare.

When the cab comes to a stop you thank him repeatedly. You get out of the cab and see the academy at the end of the block. Making quick work you walk there, as to not appear suspicious and text back on your phone.

arrived

you get a response seconds later.

you’re ahead of schedule. good.

Someone calls out your name and you look around. You eyes look over the people walking past you until you land on a very short person in the middle of the block. Not a short person, a child.

Damian.

You stalk over to him. He’s wearing a uniform for the school, but he’s outside of the building during school hours? Did he say that he as home schooled during the interview?

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you homeschooled?” you ask.

“I am, I am working undercover and needed something from Gotham Academy.” he answers.

“Undercover for who?”

“I can’t talk about it here. We should-”

Before he can finish his sentence there’s a loud boom. Out of instinct from being close to Damian, you pull him closer and tuck him underneath you. It happens really fast. Up in a window of the academy, there’s a fire. The sound of glass breaking and shattering. And something tells you that this wasn’t random. You being here, and Damian being here.

You drag him with you away from the building and to the end of the next block. There are swarms of people chattering and looking up at the fire from above. You pull Damian away from you and look at him.

“No cuts right? You’re okay?” you ask.

He nods his head and swats your hands that are checking over him. “I’m fine. What are you doing here?”

“I was in the area. Did you have anything to do with that?”

“No, I was on a recon mission not- we really shouldn’t talk about this here.” he says.

Before you can say anything more, he pulls out a phone from his jacket pocket and makes a call. He calls out Alfred’s name and shares his location. You take out your phone and look at it.

package acquired?

It was Damian. Of course Ra's lured you into this by using him but that was noe thing. It’s a completely other thing to refer to his grandson as the package you were acquiring.

You put your phone away, “When was the last time you talked to your grandfather.”

At that Damian’s eyes widen.

“I will not go back.”

And at his words your eyes widen. He won’t go back. Meaning he left Ra's al Ghul and he’s not happy. On top of that he’s run away to his biological father. Yeah Ghul is not happy at all.

“How long until Alfred comes to pick you up?”

“He went to pick up some things. So about ten minutes- give or take.”

“We need to talk about a lot. But not here- here,” you take out one of your business cards and a pen, scribbling your address on the back of it, “make sure you come undetected.”

“Why?”

You cleared your throat. How do you tell him that his grandfather is angry and most certainly on the war path to get him back to the island, and he enlisted your help without telling you much of anything.

You did this.

“You’re built a life for yourself Damian, and I think someone is trying to ruin that.”

“Grandfather.”

You nod once, “I’ll see you later.”

Back at your desk you let out a breath. You had just sit down again after running to get a cab back to work. You were lucky that there was no one above you or you wouldn’t have been able to get away with it.

You have your phone in your hands, text messages open.

negative.

You had texted that exactly ten minutes ago with no response. It couldn’t be good, but it’s not exactly bad. There was a reason he called on you to get Damian back. It meant that you weren’t low hanging fruit like you had thought.

Now you were thinking about that comment he made about Nyssa. Why did he throw that in your face? It was no secret that you and Nyssa were as thick as thieves. But she hadn’t reached out since you left. There was no real way for you to reciprocate if she didn’t want to be contacted. So how could she miss you?

The phone buzzed.

you will get another opportunity. do not miss it.

A knock came from the other side of your door. It was probably Fallon asking if you were okay. You didn't see them when you came back.

“Come in!”

In walks, not Fallon. Instead you see Tim Drake. Your step brother? You wondered how that worked out.

“I thought you were someone else. Sorry, come in Mr.Drake-”

“Just Tim.” he says.

He closes the door behind him and takes a seat across from you. Within the time he does that you shut your phone and shove it into your desk drawer.

“So what can I do for you?”

“I just wanted to pay you a visit and ask how the article is coming along.” he says.

“You came all the way over here to ask about the article? I left my phone number with your father, you know?”

which now that you thought about could be ringing off the hook. You haven't gotten around to getting a new phone yet with the same phone number as the last few days have been a bit hectic.

You had to get on that soon.

“Okay you caught me...” his pause makes you stare.

Was he about admit to the whole paternity thing? Why would he do that right now? And why him and not Bruce? You watch as he straightens himself out in the chair, even his tie.

“I’m here to poach some writers from you. Sorry. I read some of their pieces online and some of them are really talented.” he answers truthfully.

You let out a bit of a laugh. Oh wow you really thought that he was about to let the cat out of the bag. Speaking of which you were gonna ask Fallon about the Catwoman piece that was coming up.

“Oh you can try. But then I'd have to steal your pretty male receptionist.”

“Derek?” he asks.

“Oh yeah, I think he really liked my receptionist Kacey. You don’t watch out I’ll be taking him off your hands and Kacey will pull him in real quick.”

Tim laughs at that. Full on laughs. And you join him. It felt good to joke about things that didn’t concern the league or Ra's, or your paternity. Even though you two weren’t ever going to talk about that.

“I haven’t laughed like that in a while.”

You can see the bags under his eyes. The way his hair looks kept but if you were to run your fingers through it it’d probably give away a lot of grease. At least he doesn’t spray himself with axe body spray to get away with his lack of self-care.

“Yeah. It’s kinda hard being a twenty something with such a demanding job,” you say and he looks at you, “I would know being deputy writer is truly the most grueling work of all time.”

“I bet.” he says in-between snicker.

His phone buzzes and you can see him tense again. You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you were Tim. To be so young and have so much on his shoulders.

“If you ever need to talk, I’m here. Or- my phone kinda got dropped into a sewer outside the office but I’m getting a new one soon.” you say.

He gets up from his spot in the chair.

“That’s great. I’ll take you up on that offer.”

With that he waves you goodbye and leaves your office. You want to forget for a moment that you have a text waiting for you in your desk drawer. That you’ll have another chance at picking up a package for the league. Picking up Damian for Ra’s.

You thought to yourself about what normal could look like.

#dc x reader #batman x reader #Tim Drake x reader #Dick Grayson x reader #Jason Todd x reader #Damian Wayne x reader #PAST LIVES

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snicketstrange · 3 years

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Rereading The End chapter 10

Rereading: Chapter 10 One of the biggest mysteries for me in Chapter 19 is what the end of the story Ish started to tell about his student who had only one eyebrow would be. - "Did you know I used to be a schoolteacher?" he asked. "This was many years ago, in the city. There were always a few children in my chemistry classes who had the same gleam in their eyes that you Baudelaires have. Those students always turned into the most interesting assignments." He sighed, and sat down on one of the reading chairs in the center of the room. "They also always gave me the most trouble. I remember a child in particular, who had scraggly dark hair and just one eyebrow... This was a little girl. only one ear. She was an orphan, and she lived with her siblings in a house owned by a terrible woman, a violent drunkard who was famous for having killed a man in her youth with nothing but her bare hands and a very ripe cantaloupe. .. the student in my class began to be very suspicious about the tea her guardian would pour for her when she got home from school. Rather than drink it, she would dump it into a house-plant that had been used to decorate a well -known stylish restaurant with a fish theme... The Bistro Smelt. he houseplant's owner was whisked off to Peru aboard a mysterious ship [,The Prospero,] even though at the time the ship was called the Pericles. But my student didn't know that. She only wanted to avoid being poisoned, and I had an idea that an antidote might be hidden—"... What is happening now and what happened then is part of the same story, If I don't tell you how I came to prefer tea that's as bitter as wormwood, then you won't know how I came to have a very important conversation with a waiter in a lakeside town. And if I don't tell you about that conversation, then you won't know how I ended up on a certain bathyscaphe, or how I ended up shipwrecked here, or how I came to meet your parents, or anything else contained in this book." What I can deduce from this story is this: Ish was a VFD teacher. Ish was informed by his student that her tutor was trying to drug her. Knowing this stopped Ish from drinking sweet tea. Also, because of this attitude, Ish had to talk to a waiter in a town near a lake. This is very similar to what Lemony had to do after being told that Olaf wanted to kill him and Beatrice. Lemony had to take a special ticket to a ship and flee abroad. Clearly Ish had to do something similar, perhaps in the same place, as the consequence was that he stopped on the island, meaning he was at sea at some point. Parallel to this, we know at what time this happened: at the time of Gregor's Schism. In other words, Ish's student would be drugged in preparation for being kidnapped by one side of Gregor's schism. We can see that this plan to drug children to be kidnapped during a VFD fragmentation is basically the initial plot of ATWQ. It is true that the times when this happened were different, but the attitude of S. Theodora Markson shows that this type of situation was already common and this was repeated at the time of Gregor's Schism. Professor Ish ended up having to flee so as not to be harmed by the possible violence that would take place during Gregor's schism. He was a total pacifist at this time, and Olaf knew it. When he arrived on the island, he was still with the aftermath of the violent world he was forced to flee from, and more determined than ever to establish a community based on total pacifism. According to Ish, The Island Book is where castaways write their stories. This shows how Lemony Snicket has access to stories experienced by the Baudelaires since before their house burned down: the Baudelaires wrote about it in the island book, and Lemony found this book later. The Baudelaires' parents arrived on the island a few months before Ish. In all, they only spent a few months on the island. Beatrice probably arrived on the island pregnant with Violet and left it pregnant as well. Is it possible that Lemony is Violet's father? Talking about possibilities, yes it is possible. Coitus would have had to have taken place not around the time of the canceled quasi-marriage, but around the time of Gregor's schism, around the time Lemony fought over the salmon along with Kit and Jacques. However, I find this unlikely. On TBL we have access to a letter from Lemony to Beatrice. In this letter, we learn that Lemony was informed of Beatrice's pregnancy, and it appears that the person inside Beatrice was Violet. In the letter, Lemony indicates that he hasn't seen Beatrice in a few years. This suggests that Violet is indeed Bertrand's daughter. (You can always think of a grand scheme involving lies, but I find that unlikely. If Lemony wanted to hide the fact that he might be the father of Beatrice's baby, the smartest thing he could do was do nothing. , Beatrice's hasty marriage would have already hidden any suspicion as to the paternity of Beatrice's baby). "They wanted to dig a passageway that would lead to a marine research center and rhetorical advice service some miles away." The Baudelaires exchanged amazed looks. Captain Widdershins had described such a place, and in fact the children had spent some desperate hours in its ruined basement. "You mean if we walk along the bookcase," Klaus said, "we'll reach Anwhistle Aquatics?" Ishmael shook his head. "The passageway was never finished," he said, "and it's a good thing, too. The research center was destroyed in a fire, which might have spread through the passageway and reached the island. was contained in that place. I shudder to think what might happen if the Medusoid Mycelium ever reached these shores." Beatrice and Bertrand arranged to begin construction of a tunnel connecting the island to AA's facilities. The justification was to take the documents to Dewey's library. If we are to believe that Beatrice's genuine interest was in providing content for the library, we also need to believe that at this time, Beatrice did not yet know of the danger Gregor A posed to the world. On the other hand, Beatrice and Bertrand's interest in finding a cure for the deadly MM fungus, as well as the precautions they took in case the deadly fungus reached the island, is evidence that they already knew about the possibility of the fungus being used as a weapon of mass destruction and start a great pandemic that could reach the island somehow. So it is more likely that Beatrice and Bertrand's real interest in building the tunnel was to see that the cure for the MM fungus reached the place where the fungus was contained. In fact, if everyone on the island had immunity to the fungus, they could provide for the controlled destruction of the deadly fungus, without having to resort to wildfire to eliminate that danger. Ish's narration makes it clear that Beatrice and Bertrand have found allies on the island. In fact, it's possible that their arrival on the island was not accidental. They were perhaps looking for a safe place for their experiments involving finding a cure for the deadly MM fungus. That Beatrice had already begun to perform tests that she considered dangerous is evident from the prior knowledge she had about the hybrid apple. After all, neither apples nor the roots used in the experiment have abortive properties in themselves. Some exotic substance was formed in the genetic crossing between species, and Beatrice was already aware of this substance to the point that she never ate her own bitter apples. I have a hypothesis that this information could have been gleaned from Mrs. Widdershins' studies, but this is still very speculative. If there had been no schism on the island at the time of Beatrice and Bertrand, Gregor's schism would not have had so many consequences, for the weapon of mass destruction would have been destroyed without the need to resort to Olaf's incendiary methods. I think this plot also explains another mystery of ASOUE: "the great truce." From Violet's birth until the Baudelaire mansion burned down, Olaf was apparently not chased by the VFD and he maintained a town house and theater group. This truce must have been a kind of reward Olaf received for helping to destroy a bigger and more powerful enemy of VFD: Gregor A and the deadly fungus MM. "In my experience, the Snickets are as much trouble as the Baudelaires" So, this is hard to understand. Ish considers the Snickets problematic, and he considers this based on his personal experience. His experience is with Jacques or Lemony, as in his writings he had claimed that Kit was someone's sister. This reveals exactly what I had previously thought: the Baudelaires and the Snickets were part of a different faction than Ish was. Ish preached total pacifism with the help of librarianship. His behavior on the island for all these 15 years only demonstrates that he has taken this philosophy to the max. He became like a monk during the Middle Ages, who retreated into its mysteries surrounded by manuscripts, while laymen were prevented from learning to read. Ish reveals in chapter 10 his entire philosophy of life: to keep the peace it is necessary to alienate the people of the world. He really considers himself a father to the island, and it's interesting that father is a religious term in many languages, including English. The answer to this way of thinking was said by Sunny: "I don't believe that bridging the freedom of expression and the free exercise thereof is the proper way to run a community." "This ring," he said, "once belonged to the Duchess of Winnipeg, who gave it to her daughter, who was also the Duchess of Winnipeg, who gave it to her daughter, and so on and so on and so on. , the last Duchess of Winnipeg joined VFD, and gave it to Kit Snicket's brother. It to your father, who gave it to your mother when they were married. Learned from her grandfather. The wooden box turned to ashes in the fire that destroyed the Baudelaire mansion, and Captain Widdershins found the ring in the wreckage only to lose it in a storm at sea, which eventually wa shed it onto our shores." This is a delightfully intriguing story. This story spans hundreds of years. Firstly: what is the importance of the ring? It appears to be originally a family heirloom. After that the rings are given to other people. We know Lemony gave the ring to Beatrice and in his mind it must be an engagement ring. I wonder why R gave this family inheritance to Lemony. He could have used any ring to ask Beatrice to marry him. Did he want something special, but being poor R decided to give him something dear? In this case, was Beatrice already rich? Among the reasons Beatrice would return the ring was certainly the fact that she would not marry Lemony. Was differences between social classes an important factor? Why did Lemony give the ring to Kit instead of keeping it, or instead of giving it back to R? And why did Kit give the ring to Bertrand? Did she want Bertrand to marry Beatrice? And why did Beatrice keep the ring so carefully instead of displaying it on her finger? The only answer I can think of is that Beatrice kept the ring as a symbol of the forbidden love she could have lived with Lemony but didn't. She was his bride at heart. I believe that Beatrice's marriage to Bertrand was not motivated by love, but it was a suggestion that VFD gave her, especially since she has inherited a large fortune. But in any case, Bertrand gave this ring to Beatrice only on the day they were married, not on their engagement. At the time, Beatrice believed Lemony was dead. No wonder she decided to keep a memento of her true love. Of course, these are all hypotheses. But the most important question is: How does Ish know all this? The last information he has is that Captain W took the ring from the wreckage of the Baudelaire mansion and left it lost at sea. How does he know it was exactly Captain W who took the ring? This information can only have been generated by Captain W himself. Did the captain drop his logbook overboard? Chances are, yes.

#snicketverse #asoue #books theories #asoue theories #beatrice baudelaire #Lemony Snicket

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twix-tom · 4 years

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Forgive me Father

Tom Holland!College AU

A/N: I was so nervous to publish this and then I forgot and I think that is now or never. There might be a part 2 to this but I am still working on it. Comments and feedback would be appreciated. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Implied smut, there is mention of a blowjob, blasphemy(?) I’m so sorry about that one also I don’t know how this kind of religious families work so I’m sorry about that.

Word count: 2508

“You two know each other?” His father says catching the way they are staring at each other

“Yeah” he says, a little too quickly

“We do, uhm… we go to college together” she offers at the same time. It stills sounds too ambiguous in her mind, so she provides “We have friends in common”

“Oh wow” goes now her father “what a coincidence, huh?”

“Yeah, funny how life works” Tom says quietly, not meaning for anyone to hear but her, his eyes are now more relaxed

When his parents asked him if he wanted to go to a little church gathering in the house of the pastor this morning he didn’t think he would run into her, least of all did he think she would be the daughter of the pastor. Here they were now, in her garden where the gathering was happening, surrounded by middle aged people that knew a completely different version of her than he did. For some reason this information made him a little giddy inside, the idea that a small part of her belonged to his mind only.

Their dads got into a polite conversation, the feeling of humble brag at their expense surround them quickly, making both of them blush and intervene into conversation to make it more lightly I wasn’t the editor in chief of the school paper but I wrote sometimes in it and Yes, I did help the old lady that lived in front of our house but it was mostly because you volunteered me. Their mothers uncomfortable smiles start to get bigger with each story and the stories start to get out of control

“Did I tell you about that time Tom saved a dog from drowning?”

“I didn’t, I was already in the pool when the dog jumped on me basically, didn’t have much saving to do” this pulls a giggle out of her lips, it sounds almost innocent, like the giggle of a high schooler in front of her crush and that makes him smile, feeling butterflies in his tummy.

He wants to keep talking, tell her all of the adventures he would go with his brothers when he was younger, pull that beautiful sound out of her again but just as he was about to talk again her mother interrupted, their dads still in a heated conversation about who was better

“Honey, why don’t you get Tom something to drink?” she gently took her elbow pushing her closer to him. They shuffled away from their parents and closer into the house, getting in the kitchen to follow her mom orders.

“‘We have friends in common’” he repeated playfully.

“What did you want me to tell them?” she whispered/yelled looking around making sure nobody listened “‘Oh yes Sir, we know each other, in fact last month I had your son’s cock in my mouth’”

“Jesus Christ” he said widening his eyes, checking around them just like she did before

“Don’t speak the name of the lord in vain” she said with a teasing tone, her eyes were shining with mischief, he knew that look “Besides is not entirely a lie, we do have friends in common”

“All of the friends we have in common are because we introduced them to each other” when he says that, it sounds like what they had was official. She blushes knowing that he didn’t mean it like that, they weren’t official… not yet at least. Yet?

Both of them met around October in a party that someone was hosting, neither of them knew in whose kitchen they were making out with this complete stranger, but they were enjoying it and weren’t drunk enough to forget about each other the next day. Since that day on they were a thing, an unofficial thing, an unofficial kinda exclusive thing. They weren’t dating but were hooking up, didn’t know much about each other to say they were friends with benefits but knew enough to know preferred alcoholic beverages and their soft spots. Something like acquaintance with benefits. They have gone to more parties where their friends were and ended up introducing them to each other, it was a lot more simple that the way he made it sound.

She lead him to the house, coming in through the kitchen that was significantly more quiet than outside, there was food and drinks everywhere

“Do you want something to drink or eat?” She said, clearing a place on the island in the middle of her kitchen to sit there “take anything you want” the motion she made to the refrigerator was almost lost in Tom’s head, thinking that the only thing he wanted to take was sitting in front of him. He approached her, parting her legs and settling there, his hands on either side of her, their faces close together.

They were so close -oh how he had missed this, her- The sound of his fathers laugh came clearly through the door and quickly his back was pressed against the counter opposite to her. Her eyes wide paying attention at her mother on the door of the kitchen, looking down whilst laughing, she didn’t saw anything, when her sight came up her brows furrowed

“How many times have I told you to not sit on the counters?!” Jumping down she saw how Tom was trying to hide a smile, looking at her with one eyebrow raised “Tom, has Y/N not

offered you something to drink?”

“Uh... she was just doing so actually” her mother’s eyes went to her showing disapproval, she hadn’t raised her that way. Making her way to the refrigerator she opened and started listing everything they had -if he wanted to make a good impression with her parents then he would have to pass from drinking beer- he wanted to make a good impression with her parents?

Truth be told, yes. He wanted to make a good impression with her parents and he wanted her to notice him trying to be nice in front of them.

“I’ll just have some lemonade if that’s okay, I’ll help with the heat” Smile grazing his face, she didn’t miss the tone on his voice, too polite for her but perfect for her mother.

“Of course, we have pink lemonade or just the regular one”

“Regular is okay, thank you” He looked over at her to see her rolling her eyes and sticking her tongue out to him. He chuckled under his breath, receiving now a cup of sweet homemade lemonade.

“C’mon, go enjoy the rest of the party” Her mom was so polite to him, if only she knew about the things they get down to.

She starts marching again, going back to the garden a little bit in front of him and maybe it was the lemonade or maybe it was her but the walk back made his hands feel a lot more damp than before. They weren’t damp before. This event filled with middle aged overly religious people was so much more nerve wracking now. She was a completely different person in here that to who he was used to, offering smiles left and right and looking so pure in that dress and fuck, that. dress. She looked so good. Taking a sip from his drink he decided to check out her legs, she was talking with an old lady that was serving herself some of the food in the incredible well decorated tables. When his eyes lifted up, just a little bit over from the rim of the cup he caught eyes with her dad. Not really paying attention to him but wandering his eyes around, making sure everybody was having a good time.

“So you have brothers-” she was interrupted by his voice, a version a little high of his voice.

“You have a really nice garden”

“What?”

“I’m sorry, I just- Your garden is big and nice… good grass you have here, my grass doesn’t look like this” He’s an idiot, he shouldn’t talk around her. Who allowed this. The cup met his lips again in a desperate way of calming himself down. Her small giggle was enough to give his heart the relief and at the same time accelerate him.

“My dad takes care of it. Besides I’m an only child and didn't have any pets growing up or anything like that, so… it helped maintain it?” Why were they talking about the grass? Was this that awkward? Has she read the signs wrong and he actually doesn’t like her like that?

“Yeah… just really nice… grass” SHUT UP, SHUT UP! He was saved by an old man coming towards her, smiling and saying how much had they missed her

“Oh my dear, Sunday’s aren't the same without you, we miss you so much” the old man said in a paternal kind of way, if it wasn’t for the extra politeness on her face he would have thought he was her grandfather.

“I miss you guys too, but you know, I have an education to take care of. Besides now you have me for the rest of the summer”

“Is she good over there?” he was caught off guard in his defense, but his silence was perceived as a queue for the man to keep going “Are you taking good care of her?” there was an implication there, and he could tell that she was raised having to interact with people like this on a daily basis because her response came immediately

“This is Tom, his parent go to the church too, by coincidence we go to the same college together, but yes, I have been good and I am taking care of myself, Lou”

“Oh, I’m so sorry” This Lou guy laughed away the awkward moment, stretching his hand out to Tom, who shook it saying a quick ‘hi, nice to meet you’ “You know Luke also misses you a lot” the wiggle on his eyebrows said everything

“Ah, that's nice, say hi from me when you see him again, Lou. If you excuse us”

She tilted her head a little towards a couple of chairs on the back of the garden signaling for him to follow her. After a nod to Lou he did, looking her say hi to some people and him smiling behind her. If she wanted to run for mayor of this town she definitely could. He wouldn't object to be the first… man?

Once sitting down there was silence. Not an awkward one but one that he was willing to fill, he wanted to hear her voice again. After the couple weeks they spent apart

“Who's Luke?” He didn't want to sound jealous or possessive, he wasn't. He was curious about this Luke guy that apparently had missed her a lot. He was curious if maybe during the time that they haven't seen each other she wasn't available anymore as something more than just a hookup

“His Grandson” she said. she was hiding her smile behind her pink lemonade cup, looking uninterested in Tom's question.

“I meant… you know what I meant” he shover her a little bit with his shoulder

“Yeah, you asked who Luke was and I answered, is there a problem with the answer?”

“How is Luke, Lou’s grandson, related to you?”

“Oh, well Lou and his wife go to church and my dad is the pastor that sometimes hosts parties, so we get to know the community better”

“You're a pain in the ass”

“Am I?” there was a smug smile on her face that he wanted to kiss off “Lou always tried to set me up with him because we are both around the same age and im such a “good girl” you know, good grades, nice to people and I never got in trouble, so he wanted us to date I suppose so yeah, just a guy I guess is the answer”

“Hmm, ‘good girl’” he said, the look that she had prior on her face was now being imitated by him. She laughed at this. The little devil is not even trying to fight him on this.

“You would know about that, wouldn't you?” her face was really close to his ear, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up and his whole body tense. “Why haven't we seen each other before this, in here?”

“My parents just moved here not long ago. Since now most of my brothers are out of the house they decided that they wanted to be nearer family so here was the place to be” his heart still hammering on his chest from the close proximity that she had now ended

“Brothers, huh?”

“Three younger”

“I know your youngest brother, I think? He went with your parents to the easter service”

“Yeah, he's forced to go. Mum doesn't make us, the older ones, take part of this side of the family if we don’t want to. So I just don’t go”

“Why are you here today then?”

“Destiny… or just pure luck i guess” her stupid heart was loud enough to lead a marching band if it wanted to, and if it weren’t for the cup on her hands she would have to wipe them down on her dress

“You're very cheesy, Holland. I didn't know this side of you” it felt so natural to be in her garden talking to her like that, suddenly her parents were not in the picture anymore, he only felt her around him, her perfume and her smile and her eyes and the way the sun radiates onto her hair

“I actually kinda missed you” his hand is trying really hard not to reach for her. Her dad is looking at them and he doesn’t want his disapproval. Why does he care so much?

“I missed you too” she gives out a soft smile. Oh, he knows why.

“You never told me your dad was a pastor” He tries to distract himself

“Yeah, dunno, don’t feel like that would be the best pick up line” If she could wrap herself around him and kiss all over his face she would, she a 100% would

The idea of her dad being in the same place as Tom should bring an uneasiness to her, but actually having Tom and her family in the same place felt… comforting, almost normal. Like they belonged there, maybe in other circumstances he would have come over before service to help her mom with the food and then he would drive to the church with her and now they could be holding hands and being a couple in front of all of these people.

Her hand let go of her cup and her eyes were locked onto his own hand on his knee. It was almost automatic the way his hand turned welcoming her own, she felt giddy and relief feeling that her hand wasn't the only one damp, which was kinda disgusting in the best way

“So… what do you say we ditch this and go for some ice cream?” her voice was soft like he had never heard before

“Is this your way of asking me out on a date?”

“Is that a yes?”

“That’s definitely a yes”

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom holland one shot #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fan fic #tom holland fic #tom holland fics #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x yn #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland!college au

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ilyamatic · 4 years

Text

Meet: Andrico

I finally got a sprite for my boy (thanks again @lesbianarcana)! I have created content but never formally introduced him. So may I present to you:

Andrico-Nasir El-Saieh

(ahn-DREE-ko nah-SEAR el-SIGH-ay)

Nicknames: Drico, Nas, Dridri, Demon of Leogâne, The General

Birthday: July 13th

Sign: Cancer ♋

Age: 33

Gender: cisMale

Pronouns: He/His

Sexuality: Bi

Favorite Food: Tassot kabrit (fried goat)

Favorite Drink: limeade, rum

Favorite Flower: Honeysuckle

Familiar: Raphael, a point colored ferret

Parton Arcana: The Moon

Appearance →

Hair: Kinky and dark brown. Often in twists or braids

Eye Color: Brown

Complexion: Deep brown with freckles on his cheeks.

Body Type: Soft buff

Height: 6'2 / 188 cm

Tattoos: Honeysuckle vines on his hips down to his upper thighs

Piercings: Nipples and a Jacob's Ladder

Glasses: None

Scars: Several small ones on his hands from regular work as an apothecary. One large butterfly shaped one on his left shoulder from where he was branded

Additional Features: Aside from the peach fuzz he has on his face, Andrico has little body hair.

Relationships →

Family: Solange (Mother), Mustafa (Father), Colette (Sister) Jacques (Brother), Noor (Sister), Sayyed (Brother), Yousef (Brother), Yasmine (Sister), Nasir (paternal grandfather), Geraldine (paternal grandmother), Joseph (maternal grandfather), Nadine (maternal grandmother)

Main Love Interest(s): Julian and @sunrisefool’s Anatole

Best Friend(s): Portia, Asra, Jasna (other apprentice), Jai (other apprentice), Andrés (other apprentice), Marie-Carmel (other apprentice)

Annoyed by: Lucio, Valerius, most of Vesuvian high society

Trinkets →

15 rose gold bands. Often seen on each of his fingers, mostly stacked.

A guitar. Aged, but well taken care of.

A satchel of herbs. No one knows when you may need some witch hazel.

A machete. Dulled from use.

One or two butterflies. Only Andrico knows why they follow him

Biography→

Andrico was born in the bustling port city of Port Joyeuse on an island halfway across the world named Ayiti. Oldest of 7, Andrico learned from a young age how to be a leader. After an assassination attempt on his father for his political leanings, the El-Saieh moved deep into the countryside, to Solange’s home town of Leogâne. There he discovered his love for science, herbs, and potion making under the tutelage of his maternal grandparents. In the summer when Andrico turned 17, Andrico met Madeleine. It was love at first sight and Andrico was willing to do anything for her. As it was, Madeleine was a revolutionary and was working with the campaign of Ernest duPont, a staunch leftist opposed to Ayiti’s authoritarian regime. Andrico soon found himself in the middle of political conflict and at the tender age of 18, in the middle of a war.

He quickly found himself rising through the ranks until he was general. Due to his efficiency and ruthlessness. Andrico gained the name of the Demon of Leogâne. After three years the war was won and Ayiti was on it’s way to be a freer country. However, supporters of the old regime refused to surrender unless Andrico was taken out, citing that his actions during the war proved that he was a danger to them all. Madeleine managed to negotiate for Andrico’s life but under one condition: he was branded and banished off the island.

At 21 years old, Andrico found himself alone in the world. With nowhere else to turn, he went on a decade long bender around the world. Eventually the sex, drugs, and alcohol wore him out and he decided to clean up his act. A year before the game began, Andrico moved to Vesuvia to open an apothecary shop (mainly because the rent was so cheap there).

Fun Facts→

Not a true apprentice, but an immigrant to the city

Andrico has a serious case of resting bitch face. It is terminal

He is a fantastic cook and loves to bake

Will get misty-eyed when confronted by cute things (babies, kittens, Faust, etc.)

Met Jasna in a bar fight

Met Asra bringing Jasna home from said bar fight

Will watch the shop from time to time

Unpaid much to his chagrin

Is quite flexible

Can grow anything anywhere

Is able to communicate with his ancestors through astral projecting

#the arcana #the arcana mc #fan apprentice #my apprentice #the arcana julian #julian devorak #andrico the soft chaos boy #i love my son

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vesuviansunshowers · 4 years

Note

just found your blog and i fell in love with your apprentice! can i have VII, VIII, and IX fr the apprentice asks pls?

Hnngggg tysm for the love and support anon🥺💞 I’m so glad you like Orelia too! 🤗🌼

I hope you enjoy this ask-reply, and please do stop by again!

-------------------

VII.) What is your MC’s favoured element to cast with?

~ So Orelia actually isn’t much of a fan of magic, strangely enough. While she learned quickly through her Aunt and Asra, it wasn’t anything she seriously pursued if she didn’t need to learn it for the shop.

~With that in mind, she does love magic that has to do with healing or light manipulation. She mainly uses the basic telekinesis and transportation out of convenience. She just does the bare minimum in all honestly haha😅

~Orelia is also skilled at Divination, however, she only practices it while she at the shop. She feels like she is intruding on others. And in the case for herself, she’d rather let things happen organically rather than getting a spoiler of what is to come in the future and become a nervous-wreck.

VIII.) If your MC could take their LI anywhere in the Arcana world, where would they take them and why? What about in the real world?

~She would definitely take Julian to her homeland, Elgonia, even if he already has visited there. She would show him her maternal grandfather’s farm, and her paternal family’s estate. She’d take him to the library her late mother used to take her to when she was young, and the music hall her father used to perform at.

~She had many beautiful memories tied to her homeland, and she would love to share them with someone so precious to her. She would also want to create new memories of Elgonia with Julian and discover new places there as well.

~In the real world, a place she would love to visit is Seychelles, hands down. Seychelles is a lovely island to spend with someone you love, whether you want a paradise filled with intimacy vacation or explore and travel around the island.

IX.) Does your MC ‘borrow’ clothes from their LI or vice versa? If so, what is their favourite garment that they’ve ‘borrowed’ and won’t ever return?

~Absolutley!! Orelia is a smol lady, so nearly anything her lover would wear would be too big. However, this will not deter her. She wears Julian’s shirts and sometimes his coat.

~She loves his shirts as its the closest to his skin and smells like him. She loves his coats, as they all have a story to tell with his travels. She’ll keep one or two of shirts, but always ask to borrow his coat, as it’s special to him.

~Julian on the other hand is tall and lanky so, many times it difficult for him to fit in Orelia’s clothes.😭 However, he uses some of her accessories such as her belts, scarves/shawl, or brooch. However, he kept a handkerchief she had lent to him before she passed away of the plague (And he made sure that it never got soiled or ruined🥺💕)

XVI.) Who are your MC’s closest friends? How did they meet?

~ Orelia has made some friends at each point of her life. Back at Elgonia, she had a few friends while she was in finishing school, however, she very close to her immediate family as it is large. She was mainly best friends with her cousins as her older brothers were much older than her.

~ At Odaesi, Orelia’s best friends were two servants she worked with. One friend ended up moving back to her home country, while the other became her boyfriend (His name is Cyril).

~At Vesuvia, initially Orelia had a hard time making friends. She was even more homesick there than at Odaesi, as well as Cyril and Orelia separating (Cyril was drafted into war at Odaesi) so it took a while to open up. She while she ended up befriending some locals, she grew close to Muriel and Asra.

~Orelia’s Aunt introduced her to them, as she thought she was lonely. However, their friendship grew the more they saw each other at the shop. Orelia grows a friendship with Nadia and Portia as well! Nadia sees a lot of her younger self in Orelia, so she takes care of her as if she is a little sister. Portia checks on Orelia if she has been inside for too long, and invites her to her cottage to hang out and run errands together.

XVIII.) What is your MC up to in the ‘present’ time of your canon? Do they have goals they’re trying to achieve?

~In the present time of my canon, Julian and Orelia are engaged and looking for a summer home at Elgonia!💞🥰 Orelia has regained her memories and is reconnecting with her past. At this point, she learns how to pursue her personal happiness along with her identity and calling outside of Vesuvia!

XX.) What is your MC’s love language? What does their LI do that makes them feel loved? How do they reciprocate that with their LI’s love language?

~Orelia’s love language is acts of service, physical touch, and quality time! Orelia takes time very seriously, and only invests it in things she truly is passionate about. When she loves someone she will go the extra to make them comfortable, so she uses her talents to create something for them. Whether it is something out of music, food, or a pampering session.

~While Orelia tends to be reserved in the eyes of others or the public, she is the ultimate lovebug at home. Orelia values intimacy as a big part of a relationship. Whether it is being held at the waist, a kiss on the wrist, or a cuddling session, she is all about it.

~ Orelia is also highly independent. In normal circumstances, she upholds boundaries on who is welcome in her space (especially strangers and regulars at the shop) and values solitude alone. However, when a special someone is in her life, she will take time out of her day just to be with them. She is extremely faithful to her SO, so they will get her undivided attention.

~Julian is very affectionate and is adventurous, so Orelia would cherish even the smallest gestures he makes, as it is genuine. Julian notices all the small details that Orelia does to brighten his day so his affirming words will melt her heart.

Thank you once again for the request, I truly appreciate it! I hope you enjoy my reply!! Take care and stay cool from the heat! :3

#apprentice asks #orelia asks #My Apprentice #orelia #Orelia F. Soranzo #julian #portia #nadia #muriel #asra #Orelia's memories #elgonia #Odaesi #ask reply #cyril #orelia x julian #anon

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kainefloyd · 4 years

Text

{ KJ APA . CIS MALE . 23 . HE/HIM } did you see that { KAINE ‘KAI’ FLOYD } just pulled up in hidden hills with { LORENA RAMOS } sitting next to them in the passengers seat - isn’t that cute ! you know, for a { NBA PLAYER - LAKERS }, i’ve heard they’re really { INDECISIVE }, but that they make up for it by being so { CHARMING }. i see them all the time on snapchat && yesterday in US WEEKLY i read that they { HAVE } 2 sons - can you believe that ?!

some basics;

Kaine ‘Kai’ Floyd is originally from Hawaii. He is Samoan & Hawaiian.

Goes by the nickname K-9 in the NBA for his name and number.

Born August 19th

Most of his friends back home call him Kai.

There’s over 100 people in his immediate family. At this rate, he has lost count.

Oldest of 9 siblings.

Has the two most cutest, adorable baby boys with Lorena.

He’s a starting point guard for the LA Lakers

Attended UCLA for college where he got drafted out of. Never finished his degree.

Works with lots of children organizations and likes to give back to kids however he can.

Has endorsement deals with top athletic brands, drinks and his own branch/line off of everything he partakes in.

Him and Lorena were on basketball wives. They have a huge fan base of their relationship on social media thanks to the reality show.

Lives HERE currently

as a dad;

Father of Two Sons; Tide Alexander and Evian Reign.

Tide’s nickname are Ty, Ty Guy, My Ty. And Evian’s are Evy but Tide calls him baby Evy

He wants as many kids as Lo will give him. He’s huge into family, loves being a dad and is very careful when it comes to sex. His goal is to only have one baby mama in life that he’s in love with, can spoil and get to tie down/be a stay at home mom which can be an argument/disagreement point that we can work on.

Tide and Evian are his parents first grandkids, his grandparents first great grands and he has a sister who is four. His parents were young when they had him and now only 45 & 44. and his grandparents are in their 60′s and 70′s.

He’s such a push over, his kids pouts and when they wrap their arms around his neck or want to be held makes him melt.

They literally are the light of his life. Nothing means more to him than those two little boys.

Has a play room for them that is extreme, full out little kid basketball court, swing set inside, slides, arts and craft sections, all the toys, everything.

Tells bad dad jokes sometimes. Okay most of the time.

Has their names tattoo’d over his heart

Kaine will also be there to babysit, help out single moms and do whatever whenever. He’s super caring and loves friends that can turn into family. There’s nothing more that this guy loves than throwing down a huge bbq for everyone, being behind the grill and when the kids go to bed, turning up with all the drinks.

lorena;

Love of his life.

Her smile and laugh are everything. Making her blush and their size difference. Huge turn ons.

They have an on again, off again relationship since Evy. which he hates for him and his sons but knows he is an ass and they have to figure their shit out before having another kid.

Kaine can be super romantic at times, makes sure to include things she enjoys like candles and pays attention to the little things she loves in life.

Still keeps her closet open at his place, buying her things to have there to try and get her to spend the night.

Compares every girl in his life to her.

Flirts around sometimes but that’s mostly his personality when they’re off cause she’s kinda hot when jealous?

Downfall is Kaine. entirely. they are set for life with money and their family’s shares in ebay, then the millions he makes from the nba, his endorsement deals, reality tv and all of that so he expects lo to want to be a stay at home mom?

He’s a dumb dumb but literally is the type to grab up on her butt and kiss her neck, very affectionate with her is his personality no matter what.

Expresses his appreciation and admiration for her frequently for their family, their sons and her, etc.

Wants to always provide for her, in lots of ways.

Never gives up hope they’ll be together forever. that’s why he hasn’t really laid down roots in his place? because he has his own ideas.

Wants to build an empire with her.

Knows how lucky he is and like, admits it but has big jerk energy sometimes when it comes to pride and needs to recognize her dreams matter too? like she is an amazing mom and wifey type. 100 percent. but she should get to live out what she wants to do just like he does.

His father is the terrible influence he learned things from and his mom really needs to speak to him about all of this.

his hawaiian family life;

His father was super unfaithful and always stepping out on his mom. They had a very toxic relationship, but in the culture, his mom was pretty much left to deal with it.

Christianity and church is an important aspect in Hawaii so is their image.

They are Hawaii’s most famous family.

Kaine is the oldest of 8 kids that he knows of? would love a half sibling.

Kaine’s Tutu and Tuma (what he calls his paternal grandparents) are the matriarchs of the family and own acres and acres of land. They are beyond rich and created their own compound beachside where they had custom homes built for their children.

Kaine’s paternal grandfather and father are part owners of ebay and billionaires.

Kaine’s mother, Maria came from nothing. She was a model in New York City when she met Kaine’s father, Elei - EJ for short who was there for business. Her parents didn’t approve of her running off to marry him, but it wasn’t a question in her eyes. It was what she wanted to do and thought he was going to provide her with a life of luxury that allowed her to continue to stay in the modeling world.

All of his brother’s and sisters carry on the Hawaiian tradition with strong, Hawaiian names that came from ‘dreams’.

Maria is always in town as often as she can to visit, stays usually at Kaine’s and brings some of his siblings. Her family is estranged and she is struggling with trying to reconnect with them after all of these years.

kaine’s personal life;

Super loaded & knows what he likes and doesn’t in this world.

Is pretty private about things, not super flashy. Isn’t one for suits and stuff like that, even on game day. He does dress up during the playoffs though.

He’s into surfing, skateboarding, the island life and living, four wheeling, going on adventures, tanning and living more relaxed when he can.

His home is super open planned which he fixes and gates up accordingly when he has his kids, don’t worry.

Loves a good beer, chilling outdoors, going to the beach or having a bonfire on a Friday night.

Listens to all kinds of music.

His party habits are kind of wild when he does go out, though.

Dark Liquor has him crazy, tequila makes him super duper horny.

Def sends Lo risky texts when he’s drunk and you can tell by the look on his face when it’s time for him to go home.

Kaine is into working out, very dedicated to his ab life, has a home gym and a half basketball court at his house outside but also a personal trainer he visits and has over. His work is never done.

Very strict with his diet and has a chef that cooks for him weekly, prepares meals and stacks his fridge and freezer.

Tattoos are life. Has 12 currently and his artist on speed dial.

Has a huge man cave, collects old school vintage band and sports memorabilia.

Also into buying arcade games for his home to play at any time.

Is best friends with lots of top named players in the league and has a close, big brother/big brother relationship with Lebron James. Kobe was his idol.

Cars. This boy has 8 in Hidden Hills alone.

The house he owns is massive, but hates living in it without Lo.

Family owns a few private jets.

Wants to get dogs, he has some back in Hawaii that are his family dogs but for now he’s waiting until him and Lorena lay grounds better? Plus, he knows she loves her pup and doesn’t want to try and one up her.

connections;

in between on and off times with his baby mama, he has had some dating flings featured in the tabloids. not all are true, some are just friendships.

he knows that people could use him easily for fame and clout, so he is protective of himself and who he lets in his life.

no one random their sons ever. he’s extremely protective of them and his privacy, but is trying to make sure to branch out more and make more parent buddies.

as for friends, he’s a guy’s guy. loves saturdays being for the boys. would love all the friendships.

you can count on kaine to show up and come through with helping you whenever you’re in need. he’s a good listener, doesn’t care much about drama so you don’t have to worry about him repeating anything.

#hiddenhintros #kaine floyd | about #character study | muse #character study | kaine floyd

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fred-frederator-studios · 5 years

Photo

Arlen Schumer: The Frederator Interview

Arlen Schumer is the designer and illustrator of our Frederator Fredbot, the robot that’s inspired so many variations.

You read that right.

We all hear so much from fans about our “red robot” that I thought the time was right for Arlen to design something for us again, 20 some-odd years after his first.

So here it is! The 2019 Frederator New Year’s poster. (You can see some of the poster’s development work here.)

Arlen’s not only a fantastic artist/designer, but he’s a prolific pop culture historian with some great books and essays to his name, and a thriving lecture series on some of the famous (and even more unsung heroes) of comic book art.

How did Arlen Schumer come to Frederator? And how did Arlen come to art, specifically, comic book art? As you can read below, he and I have known each other and worked together for several years, even pre-Frederator.

All this and more, in the first Frederator interview of 2019.

Hi Arlen. When did you start drawing?

I grew up in Fair Lawn, New Jersey, a great place in the early-mid ‘60s, with equal parts bucolic American suburbia and small-town Rockwellian, pop culture ambiance—everything from an uber-Jewish deli like Petak’s to Plaza Toy & Stationery, which had a classic 20th Century soda fountain: it was there, after school, that I read all the comic books of my youth while drinking chocolate egg creams (with a pretzel log, natch). And because Fair Lawn, like all of New Jersey, was in the shadow of New York City, I grew up on all that pop culture through television, not just the 3 networks but the 3 local stations that showed everything from the old Universal monster movies to The Little Rascals to The Three Stooges to the George Reeves Superman TV series.

One of those local TV shows, a children’s show called Diver Dan, which was filmed in black & white to look like it took place underwater—the actor, in a deep-sea diver’s suit (with a helmet that never revealed his face, so he was like a superhero), walked slowly like he was underwater, surrounded by pop fish hanging by wires—triggered my interest in drawing, as I watched my brother draw him first, and copied him. I’ve been drawing ever since!

What was the first comic you fell in love with?

Giant Superman Annual #7 (Summer ’63): Not only is its cover the hands-down greatest of all the great multiple-panel Superman Annual covers that Superman Artist of the Baby Boom Generation (and my first favorite artist) Curt Swan drew in the ‘60s—not only does it feature perhaps the greatest single Superman figure ever rendered by Swan (in pencil; head of DC coloring Jack Adler did the hand-painted grey wash tones over it) or any Superman artist, before or since—but it is the first comic book cover I can recall ever seeing, when I was five years old, in summer camp that year. What an image to come into the wonderful world of comics by!

What was your first professional job as an artist?

My summer job between freshman and sophomore years at art school (Rhode Island School of Design), creating black & white line illustrations for a t-shirt silkscreening company in Fair Lawn.

I know that you count Neal Adams as a primary mentor? Were there any others?

Neal Adams was one of two Gods of Comic Book Art in the late-‘60s: the other was Jim Steranko, who was described as the Jimi Hendrix of comics, because Steranko’s career was as meteoric in its rise, and as short-lived. Though Steranko didn’t die in ’70 like Hendrix, that’s when he left Marvel Comics after less than 4 years of explosive and experimental works—and, like Hendrix, his impact on both the art form and its audience was in converse proportion to the relatively small amount of work he turned out. In particular, Steranko’s design sense and typographic talents were a tremendous influence on my choosing to major in Graphic Design at RISD.

It was sometime in my junior year there that I must’ve written Steranko a fanboy letter, gushing about those very things—and much to my shock and surprise, he wrote me back, inviting me to come see him in his home/studio in Reading, PA! So I took a bus from Providence, RI to Reading, and spent the day with Steranko—except I barely remember a thing about it! Why? Because I think I was having a Dr. Strange-like ectoplasmic out-of-body experience the whole time I was with him—I, a fan, spending quality time with one of the Twin Gods of Comics!!!

He wanted me to leave RISD and begin working with him as his apprentice! I couldn’t believe what he was offering me; I remember the bus ride back to Providence in a daze, feeling the utter cliché come to life of my future like the road in front of me: I could either stay on the main highway of getting my college degree, or take that exit ramp and join the circus! What do you think I did?

I stayed in school and got my diploma a year later. Had it been freshman year, maybe I would have left; but not when I was a year away from matriculating—not to mention honoring my mom’s sacrifice of putting me through school financially. But I’ve remained in touch with Steranko ever since, and feel both fortunate and unique, that I am the only fanboy who grew up to not only work for one of the Twin Gods of Comics (I ended up working for Neal Adams 3 years after I graduated from RISD), but almost worked for the other, too!

And then, Fred, there was—YOU! You were one of the first great professionals I met/interviewed with after I graduated from RISD and moved to New York City, when you were still at Warner-Amex having just created the MTV always-changing logo [actually it was Manhattan Design; I was the company creative director]. You impressed me as someone who was “real,” who didn’t hide behind a phony “professional” mask. We stayed in touch after that, and you gave me my first real breakout illustration job when I went solo as a freelancer a few years later, designing and illustrating an animated 30-second spot for a radio station, working with Colossal Pictures in LA (who later became Pixar)—and a NY metro-area billboard to go along with it!

Since then, we’ve done a bunch of great things together, up to and including this Frederator poster! And I’ve watched you wade through your own career waters as a multi-dimensional leading man, wearing so many different hats over the years—the decades—which has inspired me to cultivate my own Renaissance Man attributes. I’ve always described you to others as a mensch, the ultimate New York pro who’s got a great big beautiful heart an d soul to match his creative mind. If I could ever be described that way one day, I would consider that to be the highest compliment I could ever receive!

How about the mentors that you never met?

My father died when I was only four months old; my mother raised my older brother (by a year and a half) and I herself. Neither of my grandfathers was alive, and, though I had a handful of uncles, I would only see them a few times a year at family gatherings. So I had to find surrogate father figures elsewhere—and I found them in the American Pop Culture I grew up with in the’60s, in roughly this chronological order: Sean Connery’s James Bond, my first idealized masculine role model (the first movie I ever recall seeing, when I was around four-five years old, was Dr. No, the first Connery Bond, at a drive-in theater); Twilight Zone’s Rod Serling, a pop prophet of moral righteousness in the vast television wasteland, looking cool as all get-out in those incredibly tight TZ introductions—all of my artworks based on the series can be seen as my ways of honoring Serling’s legacy as a son would honor his father’s; and the superheroes in comic books, first and foremost Superman and Batman (the Yin-Yang of the genre), pseudo-paternally teaching me right from wrong, good from evil, and standing up and fighting for one’s beliefs. These are the things I suppose sons learn from the fathers, as well as their religious and academic authority figures. But “Everything I Needed to Know I Learned in Comic Books”!

You've published a few pop culture histories, and given countless lectures on various great, neglected figures. What got you started as an historian?

I don’t know how any artist in any genre or medium, if they truly love their work, cannot also be equally-interested in the history of that art form. When Keith Richards plays any of his classic Rolling Stones licks, he knows which black bluesman he nicked it from; filmmakers like Spielberg and Scorsese know the history of film like they know their own films. And the history of comics is as rich in artistic triumphs (and personal tragedies) as the histories of the other major 20th Century art/entertainments: film, television, popular music and rock and roll.

When I was a senior at RISD, for my degree project, I toyed with designing an exhibit of comic book art, and when I went looking for a theme, the only subject that seemed both worthwhile of my passion for the material and deep enough for the demands of the assignment was one based on the comics I grew up with in the 1960s, and the artists who drew them, the twin founts from which I drew the inspiration to become an artist. Though I never did that exhibit (I ended up doing a giant autobiographical photo-comic instead), I kept the ideas and images that I gathered, in the hopes that one day I’d use them in some other form. Many of those 1979 layouts are the same ones I’ve used in my book published in 2003, The Silver Age of Comic Book Art; its introduction, in which I place the images and ideas encountered throughout the book in a socio-political, historical framework, is composed of essentially the identical concepts from my aborted exhibit idea.

The idea to do a book instead on this period of comic book history goes back even further, to 1970, when Jim Steranko, on the heels of his amazing barnstorming stint at Marvel Comics, wrote, designed and published the first of his twin-volume History of Comics, which remain the best books of their kind, and were—and continue to be—a source of inspiration. Except they were about The Golden Age of Comics (circa 1938-1950), the period Steranko grew up with and was affected by, not The Silver Age of Comics (circa 1956-1972) that I, and the entire Baby Boom Generation, was turned on to.

Steranko himself might have been inspired by the first great book about comic book history, Jules Feiffer’s 1965 The Great Comic Book Heroes, even though it’s more of a handful of wonderfully written, witty essays on specific Golden Age superheroes Feiffer followed avidly as a boy, accompanied by reprints of the origins or earliest adventures of those heroes. Feiffer may not have realized what it was like to be an 8-year old comic book fan in 1966 and hear that there was actually a book in the Fair Lawn public library about comics!

How did you come to design the Fredbot?

When you asked me to come up with my take on the classic Japanese-influenced sci-fi trope of the giant-monster-attacks-the-tiny-people back in 1997 for your first Frederator brand image—but make it a robot, and make it look like you [I don’t remember this last part], to boot—I immediately thought of the animated robot Gigantor, one of the first Japanese anime to reach American shores in the wake of the Batman TV series in 1966. Once I started drawing my version of Big G, it was a no-brainer to add the distinctive Seibert horned-rim eyeglasses, topped by the equally-distinctive Seibert eyebrows, and voila! Fredbot!

OK, I know you love Bruce Springsteen. How come?

I believe there are Four Pillars of Rock & Roll, in roughly chronological order: Elvis, Dylan, the Beatles, and Jimi Hendrix, representing the greatest voice, lyrics, band, and guitar; hence, The Four Pillars.

Like Elvis, Bruce is a singular, dynamic presence with a commanding vocal power; his lyrics and songs have stood the test of time and made him the only one of the many “new Dylans” to actually live up to the label, living a true, real rock & roll life while writing it down, The Great American Novel but on records, great American songs chronicling not only his life and career, but that of the postwar generation that has come of age with him, timeless anthems like “Born To Run,” “Thunder Road” and “Born in the USA,” just to mention three of his greatest hits; with The E Street Band, Bruce captured the sheer joy, enthusiasm and positive energy of the early Beatles; and, like Hendrix and any of the other guitar gods—Clapton, Page, Van Halen, The Edge—Bruce has played searing, soulful, melodic leads with the best of them.

But Bruce isn’t one of those rock & roll pillars—he’s the rock & roll roof built over them, the complete rock & roller, putting it all together as no one has before. Bruce Springsteen is, quite simply, the promise of rock & roll...delivered.

His uncompromising and unparalleled creativity, body of work, attitude, and performance and work ethic have been an inspiration to me since I first heard the song “Born to Run” over a tinny AM car radio when I was 17 years old in the summer of ’75. Especially when I lecture, I employ what I call the “Springsteen Performing Style,” which is to give your 110% all to your audience, whether it’s 10 people or 10,000 people.

Bruce is also a bonafide moral leader for our age, doing what a true leader should be doing: living his life by example, and using it to inspire and exhort others to do the same.

He is the true President of the United States.

Thanks for the interview Arlen. And of course, thanks for the Fredbot! Happy New Year!

#Arlen Schumer #Fredbot #frederator #poster #2019 #The Frederator Interview #posters #illustration #interview #artist #graphic design

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splintersfeelings · 6 years

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Carefully step over the gap of my open heart and show me where I came from / 擔心，小心，開心

Family trees are defined by absences.

My father and I were talking as he drove. He wondered aloud if he was like his own father, my Ye Ye. My paternal grandfather passed away when my dad was still a teenager.

"I'm surprised you notice and remember all the stories I tell you," he says to me, when I write about them. I always remember. How could I forget? I'm haunted by the stories. I burn them into my memory in the only way that I can to light up the dark spaces in my consciousness that are haunted by ghosts.

My dad doesn't speak much to his family anymore.

His mom, my Maa Maa, tried to control my father's life and groom him to become an eldest son who could serve as the head of the household, where he was needed to fill the vacancy left behind by my grandfather’s death when my father was a teenager. It was a burden that no one that young should have to bear.

My father's younger brother, my Suk Suk, told me about the Wong progenitor 7 generations before me (my father's grandfather's grandfather's grandfather).

This Wong left his Guangdong hometown to come to the United States and make his fortune. He returned home with the fruits of his labor only to be warned of an assassination plot waiting for him. So instead of returning to his home village, he took a detour to Macau to retire with his Gold Mountain windfall. He eventually accumulated 4 wives (including an American wife) and left behind many descendants in the Macau/Hong Kong area. This story was authored by at least 4 or 5 people, stories relayed across generations, until my Suk Suk was able to compile them all and then convey it to me.

Does this make the story less true? Or does it make it more true, the accumulated sweat and tears of generations distilled into a single, elegant fairy tale, an origin story of a man heading east on his Journey to the West?

This was it's own kind of pilgrimage.

There's a difference in how Eastern and Western cultures view justice, and it's a complicated question that I'm bound to oversimplify here, but I think the idea is visible in the difference between Buddhism and the Abrahamic (Judeo-Christian and Islamic) traditions.

In the Abrahamic, justice is something that happens in the afterlife. Justice is the promise of reward and punishment for mortal sins. Life is allowed to be just, because God will ensure that sinners pay the price and that the good are granted the salvation they deserve.

In Buddhism, there's no punishment and reward in the afterlife. Life itself is the system of punishment and reward for past lives. It has a retroactive temporal orientation towards justice instead of the future orientation of the Abrahamic. In Buddhism, heaven and hell would be confusing, because the goal of religious practice is to escape from life and reincarnation, not to live a post-mortem afterlife. For the Buddhist, everyone always deserves what they get, what goes around comes around. Somewhere out there is a cosmic Karmic ledger that balances the accounts. Justice is built into the present instead of constantly deferred.

The Abrahamic fears oblivion, fears the unknown, fears the cessation of the senses. Buddhism, by forgoing the afterlife, embracing oblivion and does something different.

I'm neither a Buddhist or a Christian. I don’t self-identify as an atheist or an agnostic. In my own words, I would prefer to say that I think metaphysical statements have no truth values. But this is all neither here nor there.

In Hong Kong there was only one real god.

Its name was money.

Getting up at night to use the restroom, I trip over a pile of books I had forgotten. "Pukgaai…" I mutter to myself as I nearly fall, stumbling for my phone. Groping through the darkness with my cold hands, searching for familiar shapes and sensations to remind me who I am.

In Cantonese (and in Mandarin), "he," "she," and "it" all correspond to the same spoken word. Gender is only marked in the written form. My sister and I used to make fun of our parents for always slipping up on pronouns, calling he's she's and she's he's. I realize now how special it is to not have gender linguistically and ontologically bound into our consciousness, instantly and immediately assigned to bodies. Of course, Chinese culture still contains uncomfortable Confucian attitudes toward gender, sex, reproduction. But there's something remarkably progressive and profound about not needing to assign gendered pronouns to people. Romance and Germanic languages are so strongly gendered. Who felt like they needed to assign gender to chairs, stars, doors, cups, hats, and boats, anyways? Why should a feminine verb, a neuter verb, and a masculine verb be linguistically differentiated?

Trauma is a form of omission.

My maternal grandfather, Gung Gung, was a gambling addict. But I wouldn't say he was addicted to chance. He was a surprisingly risk-averse man in other aspects of his life. He turned down a job offer from his family because he didn't want to move away from the racetrack in Happy Valley, where he'd calculate the optimal horse to bet on, studying and researching all the details that might distinguish him from the crowd. He was a man who found comfort in games, the consistency and dependability, the clear and precise conditions of defeat and victory that are absent from the tedium of everyday life. In games there is nothing left but expression of skill. The chess pieces don't care who you are, where you were born, or how much money you make. There is only the elegant simplicity of victory or defeat and whether or not you’re willing to pick yourself up afterwards from the burning wreckage to try your hand again.

Gung Gung was a chain smoker, such an addict that long flights from Hong Kong to the United States were troublesome for him. He passed away watching a game of chess under a bridge on Hong Kong island. But just months before he passed away he visited Seattle to see my sister and I. My sister was less than a year old and I was only a toddler.

I wonder if Gung Gung would have appreciated my childhood chess tournament trophies and my passion for real-time strategy games. I wonder if he would have taught me to flank using chariots, pin down with cannons, connect my elephants.

I was too young to remember him, so I can't say that I really met him. But I'm glad that he got to meet me before he died.

The single greatest gift that Cantonese has given me is a slur for white people. If I didn't have it, I would only ever think of myself as a failed national subject. Because of just one word, a word that now comes easily and quickly to my mind, I know otherwise. I was robbed of something, long ago, before I was even born, and every time I say "gweilo" I reclaim just a little bit of that history back.

Peace by piece. Plowshares for swords. An eye for a tongue.

Complicity is the price of silence.

To this day, the sound of Cantonese music puts me at ease. I barely understand the language. But hearing the rising and falling tones of the prestige Yue dialect, the language of Guangdong, always brings close a warm part of my childhood.

When I young, not yet in grade school, I had a hard time falling asleep by myself. My parents recognized I was a creature of ritual. My dad would sit close and would play Cantopop as I fell asleep.

One day, he turned on some music to listen to during the day, just for himself, and I complained to him that I wasn't ready to sleep yet.

Assimilation is death.

"Transgenerational trauma," my professor said during our seminar. We were discussing Lacanian psychoanalysis, and the displacement of trauma through unspoken linguistic signs. The idea is that trauma is displaced along generations by overdetermining the language that the parent uses to talk to the child, and the child to grandchild, and so on. And thus, a life time of scars is tucked into the limits of our speech. A child can choose to become like their parents or become unlike their parents. But the shadow of the parent is still there either way.

What an abyss then it must be for a grandparent and a grandchild to not even share a common language. What kind of trauma is belied by the fact that everything goes unspoken?

I grew up reading through my Ye Ye's comic books. Wong Si Ma was a famous cartoonist in Hong Kong when he was alive, and his characters are still remembered fondly. The first time I read them, they gripped my imagination. Over time, I realized that my love for those cartoons was bound into the fact that my father had taught me the same sense of humor as these comics, the same love for puns and physical comedy and light-hearted pranks.

Wong Si Ma had time for everyone in his life, but not enough time for his family before he passed away.

Even though I'm not religious, Hong Kong for me is a site of pilgrimage. And that saddens me, because I know that the Hong Kong that I want and need will never exist ever again. Hong Kong’s place in the world changed. Hong Kong has been transferred back to China, and Cantonese language and politics and culture will have to be fought for to be preserved.

I feel regret, as if I have failed in a duty, by not properly learning the language. But now is as good a time as any to start.

Whenever I commute around Seattle or Irvine, I think back to riding the MTR in Hong Kong and the sonorous British-inflected English voice warning me: "Careful, please mind the gap." In Cantonese, to be careful is "siusum," literally translated as "small heart." To step with caution. I try my best to step with caution, remembering all the sacrifices people have made to put me here walking these grounds and living this life. I don't think I can be grateful for receiving something I never asked for.

But I keep trying to dream for the two grandfathers I never really met, who persisted as a memory of a memory, ghosts who guide my heavy heart, as I sleep and slowly learn how…

…to open my heart and be happy.

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severingt · 4 years

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Bert, My Maternal Grandfather

Sometimes I think I remember things about granddad Frewin, my maternal grandfather, but then I remember that it was on film and so I’m not sure. However, he was the first relative to die, thus making an unforgettable mark. I used to stay at their house on Friday nights, I don’t know why. I did spend much more time there than with my paternal grandparents. I used to sit on the settee and he would sit in an armchair, near the big art deco Philips radio, by the door into the glass roofed conservatory. He was a tall guy, but then everyone looks tall to a 9 year old. He held himself well, even though he wasn’t a well man. A proud man, I think. He was well proportioned too, not an ounce of fat on him. He was quite dark skinned, no tattoos – unusual for a naval man, most of his hair was still there, thick eyebrows and the skin on his face looked well weathered, as old sea dogs often are. He joined the navy before he should, or so legend has it, lying about his age to get in. That was it I think, he became an electrician and after his seafaring days were over he worked in Portsmouth dockyard. It was also said that after a lifetime of being an electrician, his fingers became so used to electricity that he had to lick them to make the shock greater, so he could feel it; well that’s what I was told. He was a friendly old bloke. We would sit there watching the TV and every so often he would relight his roll up cigarette, which was a brand called ‘Black Beauty’ which came in silver foil and had a picture of an African woman on the front. I did a bit of research on the net about this brand and in something written by John McVicar, he mentioned it only being available in prisons; well, it’s been replaced there now by Drum tobacco, but interesting. His breathing was a problem, often coughing and wheezing followed by relighting his roll up and taking a long drag from it. Ironic now, typical then. I do remember feeling close to him but cannot remember why, I guess it’s because I spent at least one night a week there. Anyway, he used to tend his garden that had a huge rhubarb plant on the left hand side as you looked down it; and an old tin bath used then for collecting rainwater just outside of the conservatory. He also had an allotment somewhere, I feel sure. There was also a coal shed in the garden nearer the house on the left too. The house was an old fashioned design, probably built around the turn of the century, that was quite prevalent in Portsmouth; a long hallway down the left and front room, then kitchen on the right then slimming down to the back room then on to the glass roofed conservatory. In the side alley was access to the outside toilet and a table up against next doors wall and the kitchen window. On this table, and under it, were earthenware jars that he used for his winemaking. These were mainly vegetable wines, as opposed to fruit. I inherited his recipe book and once made potato wine, it was really nice too; sweet as I remember and no waste as the boiled potatoes could be sliced and fried. Something that is on film but it feels like a memory is him going off to the Royal Naval Electricians Association meetings, very smartly dressed with grey trousers and navy blue blazer with a emblem of some kind, probably naval, on the breast pocket. I can also remember waiting for his return, often running to meet him as he turned the corner. ‘Watcha’ cock!’ he used to say to me as a greeting. It used to make me smile and still does as I’m sitting here bashing the keys, grinning broadly. I remember meeting one of his brothers, Uncle Jim, around London way and going to his daughters wedding where I mistook tomato juice for raspberry juice – what a taste surprise that was! My first time in Malta, I went with my grandparents for a month and at two weeks we were joined by my parents and brother. The apartment we stayed in was at the top of a hill, which I now know to be the Savoy hill. We had to walk slowly up the hill as my grand father regularly got short of breath. He used to send me down to the shop every morning to buy a Times of Malta for him and a Bounty for me. I can still taste the only just solid chocolate wrapped around the sweet, sweating coconut – pure heaven. When they started advertising Bounty, many years later, saying that you should cool them in the fridge, it was anathema to me – put them in the oven and serve at 35 degrees Celsius, I say! We used to eat in Sliema, in a place called the Army and Navy. You had to walk downstairs to get into the place and when there, you noticed it was covered from floor to ceiling with white square tiles. It was what we would describe as a ‘greasy spoon’ type café. There was nothing wrong with it at all, fresh Maltese rolls on the table and good, honest food at very reasonable prices. I can remember 9d (at that time, the Maltese used English currency) for a starter-sized plate of spaghetti bolognaise; 1/-6d for a big one! My grandfather would not sit on the same table as us if we had spaghetti; he used to describe it as a plate of worms! I think he was very much a meat and two veg. type of guy. One night we went out to a place near Manoel Island in Gzira to eat, which is still there to this day. I remember it being quite a dimly lit place and we sat outside looking out over the sea, we all had fish and chips. Either in this café or very nearby, bingo was being played as I could clearly hear the numbers being called. Then, suddenly, my granddad let out a scream and an expletive I think, and took something from his mouth and threw it into the sea, which was only feet away. I was shocked and a little scared as this was completely out of character for this gentle old man. It turned out that in the dim light my grandfather had mistaken a slice of lemon placed on his plate to garnish the fish, for a chip, put it in his mouth and bitten into it, which was followed moments later by the scream. It’s still funny, even now some 40 years later. One day we went for a walk, he and I, along Msida; there’s a park / gardens there and you can sit and look at all the moored wealth on display. He got chatting to some guy whilst sitting on a park bench and I listen as he retold his story. It was quite funny hearing him recounting his life to a stranger, as he lapsed into slang. At one point he said ‘and so I met this Maltese bird, married her and took her back to England’. It’s strange to hear my grandmother referred to as a ‘bird’. I don’t remember what time of year it was, but I think it was 1967. I think this because it was the year we went to New York and granddad and my father were not coming; then after my grandfather died, my father did come. Anyway, I must have been 10 years old. I think it was a weekend as my uncle was at my paternal grandparents and he lived out of town, maybe Bath at that time? The emotion rises even after all this time. Anyway, I was at my other grandparent’s house, I guess to see my uncle and cousins. I just remember being told that granddad had died. I was so sad, I cried and was inconsolable. My dad didn’t try too hard, as usual, but my uncle tried to calm me down. I can remember my brother and cousin tucking in to Sunday lunch, I think; and remember wondering why no-one else seemed upset. It was a bad experience, made worse by the lack of empathy or support. I wasn’t allowed to go to the funeral, so I don’t know what it was like or where it was. I only remember my mum saying that his wish was to be buried at sea. So they cremated him and his ashes were taken out to sea by the Commodore's launch which was arranged by the undertaker as he told us the navy did that for their ex-servicemen. It was his wish to retire to Malta; he didn’t make it, he didn’t even make retirement, I think. Granddad Frewin died in 1968, aged 64 And that’s it; those are all my memories of my maternal grandfather.

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enchantedzuyorker · 4 years

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Sam Gold - Looking Back On His Life, Tha Hundred Year War and the Gold Family History

The catalyst of the Hundred Year War began in 1871. Let's take it back to them days when the US Treasury went ass up and so it decided to seek help from global financiers and capitalists such as the Illuminati's Finest: Rothschilds and Rockefellers -- and the Global Bankers was giddy as hell, ready to buy off the USA. The Act Of 1871 was passed by the 41st Congress, and America was transformed into a business. A corporation. As a result, we was to deal with the fallout of this. Because of the incorporation of the United States, the state of Zuron was undergoing it's relegation to being the hoe-down bottom bianc to the newly-incorporated United States. Nearly a quarter of the Zuroni population was up in arms, and later began a series of raids, violent protesting, and angry confrontations with the US police that occupied Zuron. By the year 1872-1873, these raids would later escalate into a full scale war when one of the rioters who was a pyrokenetic, lit a boulder on fire and slung it at the US occupied Zuroni Royal Palace. By 1874, police began killin' women and children in their own homes, as part of Zuroni government policy, and planting bullets and arsenic in their dresser drawers.

My family history started in like, 1875 when my great grandfather was taken to task as a newfound revolutionary. The secret society, named the Zuronists, and the Order Of The Sacred Vibes, had planned and orchestrated the 100 year war, which was a series of wars. In 1876-1877, Zuroni Prime Minister Ariel Farrisau wanted to take this civil war to another level, by increaseing casualties within the civilian populace, considering dat 25% of the Zuroni population has been radicalized, they assume the same of the entire middle-class and poorer populations. He would later suggest raping the women and stomping on the heads of the infant kids, taking the Jesuit Oath way too srsly (and way too literally -- ain't surprising since he a Jesuit himself).

In 1881, my great-grandfather decided to become an anarchist and he fought in the War Of Zuron, which brewed into 1878-1879. The War Of Zuron made way for the Civil War of 1882, which went on from 1884. By 1885 to 1887, the Zuroni state decided to attack other countries such as Britain, France, Argentina, Russia (all of which are corporate charters themselves), etc so it can begin its hegemony. Alfred Perchenson started hanging with The Casanova family, who are a hidden Black Nobility that oversee Switzerland and are also members of Spanish Nobility, as well as with Illuminati financier and boss, Grand Duke Henri of Luxembourg. By the 1890s decade (1890-1899), since the USA's transformation into a corporation, it was easily conquered from within by Zuron after the Illuminati had engineered psyops within Zuron: (around 1890-91, they dropped bombs on the Highland Parkside, there was war over that; in 1892-93, there was a mass musket ball assault on the Peppy Store here in Detronas; 1894-95 was the founding of Zuronism, and the subsequent bombings; 1896-97 was the Zuroni government trying to implement the earliest form of Martial Law on the Yupaku islanders; and 1898-99 was around the era where the islanders rebelled against the Illuminist-Zuronist mafia and won).

At this point around 1905, every time a new government was established in Yupaku Islands, it was straight burnt to the fucking ground. Zuron was the last province to abide by the UCC Maritime Admiralty Law like every other country. By 1925, my great grandfather had already rebelled against the Jesuits by this point in order to take his country back, but he, as well as the rebels fighting against this UCC Law was all killed. In 1926-27, Zuron was also affected by the coming economic depression after the elites pulled the plug on the economy, and we was already penniless by the time 1928 and 1929. The President of Zuron, afraid of being killed by his Zuronist masters, didn't even bother to get the economy back on track, so he decided to flee for Argentina, leaving us high and dry. We wound up rebelling and destroying cop cars and shit starting in '30 or '31. By the time the Illuminati puppet came back in 1932-33, he was shanked to death out on the street. Serves his ass right. In 1933, the remaining cabinet of Zuron decided to cut a deal with The Federal Reserve, and they began putting the fractional reserve principle into practice. Banks don’t create creating money by making new loans to spend on this whole Hundred Year War.

In 1935 to 39, and all throughout the forties decade, the military niggas was dropping napalm in the city, killing thousands of rebelling citizens in the process. In 1941, Pearl Schuster crashed into the Zuroni Municipal building (it took 'em 30 years to build that shit back up), and in 1942-43, one of the Zuronists, Hans K. Paris, stepped outside of the shadows of the secret societies, and decided to run for Prime Minister of Zuron. He was close associates with The House of Savoy which have strong ties with Genova Italy ruled in Geneva Switzerland beginning with Count Amadeus V of Savoy. That same time frame, the Gothel Family was put further into the mainstream with this TV show, Anything With A Penis Is A Rape Machine -- this was around 1944-45. The show's creator, Gorthos Gothel, is a member of the British Crown's East India Company which controls the opium trade. My grandfather was also associated with the East India Company, met Duchess Rainia. The first half of they marriage was rocky as fuck, bordering on abusive -- especially the honeymoon stages. Eventually she would be able to relinquish the Duchess title and just be Rainia, gramma, and so she calmed down for the latter half of the marriage.

Needless to say, he too was drafted back into the East India Company's poppy fields in 1946-47, and he was stationed back at the Farnese Villa Caprarola, where he and the remaining soldiers would be under the watchful eye of the Jesuit Order as well as the Bourbon-Parma branch. Almost all of our motion picture films was published by Universal Film Manufacturing Company around this time, mostly because our own film company, Motion Sounds, signed a deal with them. By 1948-49, Joe Gothel and my great uncle, Karland Gold, were British Knights of the Order of the Bath and served the Windsor family. My grandparents would later take their marriage to new heights in 1950-51, after their friends invited them to the house of Windsor and shit. They would get involved into the Ninth Circle Cult in 1952-53, and by 1954-55 they partied at the Skull and Bones secret society at Yale. My grandparents decided to make the stupid decision to procreate, and my pops was born in 1955 -- and Bonesmen attended the day of my pop's birth. Needless to say, my family sold their fucking souls to the Illuminati umbrella. Unlike my grandparents, my pops lived a relatively "normal" childhood. And I say RELATIVELY NORMAL -- and I say that because he's had to live in fear of Bonesmen knocking on his bed room door, which made sense -- did you see my grandfather's connect with the various secret societies and royal bloodlines? Especially around 1956-57, when my grandfather and them Shriner niggas would yap for 6 hours about stupid shit.

In the beginning of the '60's, mainly 1960-61, my pops wound up becoming interested in the Shriners (mainly because my gramps put him up to it), as well as the Freemasons -- however my gramma decided against him even joining them secret societies, especially with the intensity of the Hundred Year War ramping up the intensity. In 1962-63 was when the bombs began dropping again, which haven't happened since the 30's. In 1964-65 was where the Zuroni elite would start with creating man-made viruses and shit and weaponizing them, and the government would spread that shit around and killing niggas with it. By 1966-67 was when the Hundred Year War would reach peak intensity when niggas started firing bunker missiles at each other. Pops eventually got fucking tired of this shit and rebelled at the age of 11 and decided to leave for Yukapu Islands, where he would eventually meet my moms. By the time they returned to Zuron City (which was 1968-69), my parents would meet up with then-15 year old Stasia, who was a tramp in training.

Come time around the 1970-1971. Rolestasia Esmeralda Gothel, better known as Stasia, Natika's mother, got her political career in lieu of a blood sacrafice for the Illuminati, and was therefore accepted in the Illuminati fold. She looked beautiful with her very voluptous figure, and a face of a temptress. When the then 17-year-old Stasia met the happy but struggling couple, she seemed very polite and charasmatic, very happy about her political career, but the mask would come off as soon as she moved in.

As the years passed, Stasia would come stay over at the Gold residence for weeks on end. But rather than greet them with kindness and respect, this time she greets them with indifference, and it later devolves into temper tantrums... and finally it devolved into beatings and bullying.. it did not take long for her to develop her tyrannical rule over the Gold household. She would boss my pops to go buy her beers, take up the whole house, and force my moms to cook her meals. If either of them said no, they were BOTH ripe for a beating. Or even a raping. She would talk to her political constituents about my parents being unfit parents, calling them "stupid" and "worthless".

It would be revealed that it was Sinbad who would order Stasia to call the police on the Golds and orchestrate the monthly raiding of their house. Regardless of whether or not they paid the bills on time. It was also STASIA's momma, Gorthos that would KILL my grandmother personally, after failing to get Harold or the rookie Pole Eyes Off Eye Seer to kill the elderly woman. Gorthos unloaded a shotgun round that would kill my paternal grandmother. my grandfather, Marshall Gold, came out of his nap and rushed to find his wife with a shotgun round in her stomach, lying on the floor, dead.

The killer, then 49 year old Gorthos, and her mother Anghella (under orders from Sinbad) had long since fled the scene. Marshall would later try to investigate the murder of his wife. And so the detectives find a young black kid ordering a pack of Skittles. The detectives arrest him after finding a pistol in his bookbag (Stasia planted it there). The boy was acquitted of all charges after not only finding out the boy did not use the gun to kill the elderly woman, but found out the pistol wasn't the murder weapon.

The deputy that would reveal himself to be involved would take all the credit (and the fall), and that was his gun in the first place. As soon as they believed that was the deputy that shot SG's grandmother, that was it. They locked the case down. It had went cold. The deputy would be jumped in the streets. Meanwhile, my gram ma's REAL killer (Stasia) is in the throes of World Politics, goes to G20 Summits, and is even the Vice Prime Minister of Zuron City. Gorthos Gothel, Stasia's moms, orchestrated the raid that would kill my gramma. The motive? A spat over a purse that apparently Mrs. Gold forgot to give to the Gothels, as well as failure to show up to the Gothel sacrifice ritual.

My pops got a job as a schoolteacher in 1972, before Sam Gold was born, and my moms was a former high class prostitute until she quit in 1973. She left the family in 1974 when Gold was young as she was to regret having to bring a kid into the world. She would return to the family a year later. 1975 came along, as his grandfather still wouldn’t give up the investigation on who shot my gramma. even after having the investigation was shut down by authorities.

I was born on November 7, 1975. By the time the end of '76 and into '77 rollin' around, my pops did everything he could to care for me and my family. It was a full house. My grandfather lived in the same house, my aunts lived here. My uncles lived here, My moms lived here. I lived here. Right here. Apartment 7735, in 7th Street -- right here in Detronas Project Housing. Around this time, the Hundred Year War had long been over -- it ended around March 1975.

My pops was always working hard to support the whole family, wetehr it be hard work in jobs or dealing dope the streets. However most of the time he was being unappreciated by my family, because we won't getting pleased enough. We were unsatisfied... we didn't think of him as a hardworking daddy or a human being, we saw him as a bank account. We just wanted fat stacks and gifts, we didn't give a fuck if he was sick or not. I hated him for leaving at first, but then I sat back and reflected on how we treated him. I asked the question -- was it any wonder he left us? With my poppy gone, the rest of my family didn't have the cap space to take care of me, so they sent me over to boarding schools and summer camps, where I would get mercilessly tormented, sent in time-out for no real reason.

Hell, when I was 5 (around '80 or '81), I was repeatedly beaten to an inch of my life. Tortured even. He didn't trust these child care programs for a reason -- he knew the Illuminati controlled these child behavioral programs. He's seen my transition from child drug dealer, teenage truther, to twenty something revolutionary. He's seen my shit life, and how I chose to turn it around. He's been seen me go through the same treatment during my relationship with Natika, hell he knows her own fatherless background.

The main 5 care takers/supervisors (Cassandra Coleman, Deanne Rush, Felecia House, Juanita Cruz, and Vanessa Brianna Beasley), all told my family that I was a demon baby who was under satanic possession, and when I wanted to go outside and play, the "care takers" would say I was outta control, because of the demons inside me, and they would beat me to an inch out of my life.

The days of torture began in '83, by the time I was 7, I wasn't even allowed to play with the other kids, they locked me in a small attic closet. I couldn't stretch out my legs or stand, but I could sit in it -- it was cold in wintertime, hot in summertime, but it was always roach infested. I was not allowed no sugar, no protein, no potassium. NOTHIN'. The only food I would be able to eat was apple sauce that one of the kids would sneak through the crack in the door. When I was allowed to eat, the care takers, especially Juanita Cruz (that fucking bitch), would tell me that every bite I would eat would ruin my figure. It wasn't even worth eating afterwards. I was in the hospital a lot growing up and I got a lot of treatments. Almost all the kids would get beaten, and every breath was controlled, much like every thought. We would all wake up tied to cots and get sodomized.

Me and Natika would get taken to modification facilities when Juanita would grow bored of us. Both of us would get tied to beds for days. Me and Natika would get multiple electric shock treatments. Me and Natika both met when I was 7 and she was like, 4 or 5. She was the main kid who would stand up to the "care takers" or so-called. As a result, she would get locked inside of the small attic closet with me. She would help me sneak food into the cupboard when the rest of the kids would be asleep. When we was caught, Natti would step in and take all the blame, after a while she would be used to getting her ass whooped. Shit got worse every two years. By the year '83, them ass-beatings would continue. At this point the whole dwamned demographic getting whooped and kicked down stairs, whether for a complaint, or for simply asking questions on which activity we would partake in. After a while me and Natika would bond for our love of video games. It was her and J-Mack who had introduced me to my 6 part circle of life: emceeing, DJing, breakdancing, b-ball, gaming, and graffiti art. I took up all 5 of them and I excelled at all 5 of them. Cruz caught me reading and writing and she took me into the bathroom and beat me into a coma.

For a month, By the year 1983, around the time I was 7, I had finally awakened from my coma and had to relearn all of his basic movements and logical synopses. For this, video gaming turned from becoming a simple basic hobby into something I took seriously, wether it would be home console games, card games, or arcade games. My gramps and me would escape the Zuron City Care Centre and would later travel to Japan, where he would later train my brain into the art of Wing Chun and arcade gaming. He had since picked up on a lot of Asian culture, especially Japanese culture and how seriously they took gaming, and began to adopt said philosophies. I would later return home and re-study the subjects he had neglected around the time of my coma -- The Occult, Symbolism, Conspirituality, Secret Societies, and Astrotheology. At this point I would later get addicted to traveling, and would later be able to build a plane based on the knowledge he took in Japan.

I would later travel to Afghanistan, Algeria, Angola, Antigua and Barbuda, Armenia, Albania, Argentina, Australia, Botswana, Belarus, Barbados, Belize, Bhutan, Britain, Brazil, Chile, Colombia, Cuba, Canada, Congo, Cameroon, Chad, China, Dominica, Eswatin, Ethiopia, Ecuador, Egypt, France, Fiji, Guyana, Germany, Gabon, Guatemala, Greece, Guinea, Haiti, India, Iceland, Israel, Indonesia, Iran, Iraq, Italy, Japan, Jamaica, Kazakhstan, Kuwait, Libya, Lebanon, Luxembourg, Liberia, Latvia, Kenya, Korea, Malaysia, Mexico, Mali, Malta, Moldova, Monaco, Mozambique, Malawi, Maldives, Madagascar, Morocco, Nigeria, Nauru, Netherlands, New Zealand, Oman, Pakistan, Palau, Palestine, Peru, Paraguay, Poland, Portugal, Romania, Russia, Rwanda, South Africa, Spain, Sri Lanka, Sudan, Switzerland, Sweden, Samoa, Somalia, Suriname, Senegal, Serbia, Saudi Arabia, Syria, Taiwan, Togo, Trinidad and Tobago, Turkmenistan, Tunisia, Tanzania, Tanzania, Thailand, Turkey, Tuvalu, Uganda, United Arab Emirates, Uruguay, Vatican City, Vanuatu, Yemen, Yugoslavia, Zimbabwe, and later Zambia… and all so I can get familiar with the customs and the environments in said places. I would go back to Zuron for a remaining week to go see my moms and her fam in the hotel and stay with them.

By the time I was forced to return to the Care Centre, I would see Cruz sucking dick in the daycare kitchen, when they was watching. We would get our asses beaten the next day. The man she was with caught wind of this and left her ass. The breakup would only worsen Cruz's temper, and pretty much made it more unpredictable at this point. Her favorite punishment, for any kid who would cross her, or call her out on her bullshit -- or she sees some young nicca doing some she she just plain finds distasteful, she would mix into a trash bin some NaOCl + 2NH3 --> 2NaONH3 + Cl2, which is scientific formula code for ammonia and bleach concoction, and would throw a kid, whether it be me, Natika, Tayla, J-Mack, or anyone, in the janitor closet -- with the concoction, until we lose consciousness. Natika wound up warning the parents about the daycare center, but there wasn't shit they could do. As a result, me, J-Mack, Natika, Alex Hutch, Chris Dolmeth, Tony-D, Cita, and Tayla -- all made escape attempts, and all of them failed, and we would all get locked in the same room, sometimes resulting in me, Natika, and J-Mack getting sent to modification facilities.

By '85, I went to church -- as enforced to -- every Sunday. However I made the mistake of thinking I could trust a pastor named James Willis. He had me training immensely and wearing black belt by the time I was 9 to 10 years old. At this point he had me studying the Bible and shit, I dunno. There was a lot of shit that took place. Our friend, Tayla, who was there for our first escape attempt -- was bludgeoned to death by Cruz and the other care takers at the age of 9 (RIP, 1975.09.03 - 1985.03.03). Shortly after this I was visiting my Pastor/Communist Soldier. He started to notice I was growing into myself a little. He would take me to his king-size bedroom, lays me down on his bed. He started feeling on me and shit -- I instantly screamed like a bitch and he put his hands over my mouth, threatening to beat my ass should I make a sound. I never made a sound after that, not after he ripped my pants and underwear off and started thrusting his dick into my asshole.

Getting raped became an everyday thing. He would attempt to murder me around the times I have struggled and cried. So I just let it happen the next times he's done it. My mind became split in half. Getting raped in the bootyhole became an everyday thang afterwards. The worst part of this all is this is the closest I have came to being "loved" -- because getting bootyraped in church, despite how horrifying it was, but it beat being locked in the janitor closet with ammonia and bleach mixture and dealing with Cruz's temper at the Zuron City Care Centre. At least the 'passa wouldn't kill me, as for Cruz, I was never sure that she wouldn't kill me. So my childhood was like this: go to the daycare to get locked in a attic closet eating apple sauce on the weekdays, and at 3, go to the passa's house so he can do me up the booty -- and I have no say in it. That was my childhood. At this point, Natika was ordered to leave Zuron for Hollywood so her grand momma Gorthos was planning to mold her in 2 a promising child actress. Ambassadors of the Society Of Jesus, i.e The Jesuits, would visit Gorthos on a very frequent basis to encourage Gorthos to shame her daughter on her suicidal attempt, in which she complies… and she complied well.

In the year '87, by the time I became an prepubescent, the Zuron City Day Care Centre was shuttin' its doors, so we wound up being thrown into the wild and we went to school full time. It was horrible and the teachers was totalitarian, almost like Nazi Germany, or Mao Tse Tung’s “Great Leap Forward” in China (widely recognized as the greatest disaster in an attempt to construct a centralized economy). Them mothafuckas would bully us, whether we did wrong or not, and when we did chew gum in class or disrupt, the punishments and retributions the Zuron City High School would dish out would be disproportionate. After the said disproportionate retribution was meted out, they would continuously harass and bully the student for said slight. The deans and principals fit it, causing more destruction than the teachers. Me and other students would question what we was reading in the school books and we would get our asses beat. It got to the point where I started drinking 40 oz at the school (I had been drinking alcohol since I was 9), and I was addicted to drugs, wether they had been narcotics or pharmaceuticals). I was sick almost all the time, and by the time me and Natika slept together -- Natika had night terrors from getting raped in Hollywood Town in Zuron City, in Disney, where she was getting her first gig back in '88, at the age of 9. Both of us was coughing up bl00d at the time. Our bodies was paralyzed because of the abuse, damaged ribs, muscle structure and nervous system getting caught between 'em, dead nerves in the abdomen (which is where my Anarchy tattoo is located) and a torn diaphragm.

At this point I'd had enough, I wound up getting into fights in school, fights with the teachers, fights with the dean, fights with the security officers. That shit was what got me expelled from that school. And finally, got into a fight with Cruz when she was informed of what I did and won. She wound up snitching on me to the po-pos and I wound up facing a year and 1/2 in men's prison -- in REAL man's jail, nigga. Once again I got into fights with the correctional officer faggot muhfuckas. I found out that J-Mack, Chris Dolmeth, Alex Hutch, Tony-D, Purrpy McVay, Iverson, Lil' Dak-Dak, Kapo, and Zarius Kid -- were all in the same prison, and later on in the second half of my prison sentence, we would all be shacked in the same cell. It turns out we was all facing assault charges and got into hella fights, sprayed murals on libraries and shit -- and this is where I REALLY started writing raps. We would be released from jail around January '89, and at this point I started taking the "Sam Gold Circle Of Life" seriously, especially the first 3 elements of hip-hop. However they wound up taking me into modification once more, and I suffered amnesia after the last electroshock treatment. I didn't even know who my abuser was, who the other kids was, who my family was, my pets neither. I didn't even know what this town was. I found out that Cruz fled Zuron to live in Cali and some other shit. By the time I showed my face in West Detronas again, a lot of shit had changed.

At this point I wound up joining the Church Of Zuronism, an ideology that espouses Satanism, Dark Luciferianism, the Black Sun Cult belief systems, Illuminism, Dark Atonism, and other forms of Dark Knowledge. However, I would also study philosophical anarchism, conspiracies, the occult, secret societies, symbolism, magick, mysticism, consciousness, mind control, natural law, demonology, forager societies, etc, around this time -- and I would rebel against their orders immediately, them niggas started not to like me. By the year 1991, I amassed a shit-ton of knowledge by the time at the age of 15, and around this point I would begin my career professionally.

At this point in '91, I wound up ripping up my birth certificate and become free. I was 15 at this time -- my rapist killed himself. He blew his head off, niggas had to scrape his brains off the wall. I went to the nigga's funeral and tell niggas how great he was, but I couldn't cry. I just fucking screamed into the rooftops and shouted curses for the neighborhood to her. Didn't know why I did it, I just did. I was numb, dawg, especially after that treatment. I found out this Passa/Marine was rapin' lil' boys, done it for 20 consecutive years, and I was his fuck toy for like 5 of them years. After a series of events, my niggas, especially J-Mack, got me out of that NWO infested environment and moved me to East Detronas, the hood of the hoods. I learned to hustle, sell crack, get involved in the drug game and make that dough. I got involved in the street life, the nightclub life, living the rapper's hood lifestyle -- all the while in the daytime, I was a rebel nigga tagging up walls and street tunnels, getting involved in riots, playing street basketball, and writing and recording rhymes. However inspire of the drug game granting success, none of that shit mattered. I would still experience night terrors, I would still remember the abuse within that fucking Day Care center, I would still remember getting ass raped by that pastor in church. I would still remember the teachers bullying and harassing me. However my homies invited me into the G40 circle, the Zuron City rap scene. I accepted the invitation.

That's what pretty much jumpstarted my career, that time in my life. spending my whole childhood dabblin’ in the shit. Almost all the songs I made, I made like damned near 100,000 songs over the course of teh decade, and around 50% of them went Gold. Only like, 0.78125% of my shit went Platinum (and only 3 of 'em became singles). Near the 4th quarter of '92 and into '93 I released “It’s A Gold Thang”, and that shit went #25 on the Billboard Charts, and it went Platinum. I then petered out after the realization that I was in the Illuminati – and finding out that this whole agricultural society, including the music industry, was run by Luciferians, Dark Occultists, and a Black Sun Priest Class. To find out that your world was a lie, and at 17 years old at that, it’s traumatizing. At that point it took me 2 years to get me out of that contract. I eventually did, but the beef between me and the Illuminati had begun. Because of this, and the fact that I couldn't smoke a fucking pound of w33d, I left the Church Of Zuronism -- that shit was wildin'. I don't fuck with them niggas, so you been t0ld. However, me and Natika would resume our relationship after I left the cult.

Near the end of '94 and into '95, I released “Mid-Coast Vibes”, when the rap group Midcoastsidaz was a thang. Me being 19 years old at that time, I found myself back into the street life, dealing all sorts of drugs and eventually gun-running. That and I found out Natika was a computer hacker and a tech freak, at that point we got closer. Meanwhile the Midcoastsidaz was poppin back in 1995. In the year 1995, at the age of 19, I decided to pass the time recording new tracks, performing in major hip hop clubs, and helping my homeboys (Jimmy Mack, Tony D, Alex Hutch, Chris Dolmeth, Dave Coast, Lynch Dawg, Tray Lu, Zarius, and Purrp McVay) on they hip hop projectz, as well as getting them out of their Illuminazione production deal. Chris Dolmeth also was attemping to promote his R&B boy band Ideation at this time too. On August 1995, Ialso released my second (or third) Gold single, "Gold World", and I became an underground sensational favorite at the age of 19. Even after that success, I was making jack shit off of this rap shit -- like, $312,500 -- and I split it with Natika -- who blew almost all her cash on gaming, techie shit, nail polish and dildo practice. It got so bad that I gave up my remaining $156,250 away and slept in the dumpster hunting for food. Aside from Jimmy Mack, Tony D, Chris Dolmeth, Alex Hutch and Dave Coast sleeping in the dumpster with me. I wound up finding my Natti Cake in the actual trash pile outta her mind. This nigga billionaire crime lord and rap mogul Mister Preme (born Derek Owen) wound up signing J-Mac, Tony, Hutch, Dave and Chris to a deal with Universal-owned Zuron based Detronillac Recording Corporation, and he took them outta the dumpster and primed them up for the big time. Preme was gonna sign me before Natti mouthed off to him. They all got on the bus and they left me and my girl in the dumpster.

By the 4th quarter of 1996, me, Tony D, Chris Dolmeth, Alex Hutch, XVI2, Zarius, Purrpy McVay, Dave Ivy, Jimmy Mack, and Big Kapo was recording the “Detronas City Anthem”, but we didn’t finish the song until the middle of '97, because around that time I was rollin’ with this street gang called Venom Lordz, all the while Kapo, Ivy, J-Mac and Tony was fightin each other over the single. I was 21 at this point in my life. Kapo would later ink a deal with Uptown Records, and would record his album there, but as soon as it was primed for release, MCA began crumbling and the unreleased album got lost in the shuffle. We decided to release the single in June of '97. The shit was my first Platinum single, like EVER. And it rose my profile significantly – and it put Detronas on a national mic, tbh. Not to mention, in 1997, Kapo would later establish his AMP label. AT this point my relationship with Natika took a dark turn for the worst, she and I faded each other all the time, and over stupid shit too. I was even further depressed after reading even further into the fact that the industry I was taking part in was Satanist infested, what with the 666's, the devil horns, and satanic imagery. That and I realized the dream I was chasing, the "American Dream" was all a fucking con job created by them same Luciferians I worked with back in my teen years. I went in my fucking room, shut the computer off, curled myself into a corner and cried for most of the night -- and at this point my music became more depressive and emotive. I spent the rest of '97 going through the motions and ignoring the gun in the r00m.

Nearing the end of '98 and going into '99, I recorded “Zu-Pimp”, put that single out, and that went Platinum in within a few weeks into 1999. Kapo would sign all of us to his AMP label, and then he would upstream his AMP label to the legendary Detronillac label, which was under the Universal Records and Universal Music & Video Distribution umbrella. However, my m00d darkened when my protege Daliib was shot dead when me and him was runnin' from snipers in April of'99 (he was 19) -- I grieved heavily after that, and believe me that was a LOOONNGGG ass grieving process trust me. My m00d darkened even further when Natika told me she was pregnant. The arguments between me and Natika got worse after whether or not we were to spare Tamberine the horrors of existence. I would drink myself into a depression, because considering my tortured past, I was remorseful, thinking I would put her through this bullshit later on in life -- and it'd fuck her up just as bad as it did me -- I turned to antinatalism, efilism and negative utilitarian thought around this time frame. Even though Natika did wound up understanding what I was trying to say -- she still decided to keep the baby. It was at this point where the relationship fizzled away, and I stayed at The Zelter House more, where Jimmy Mack, Tony-D, Chris Dolmeth, Alex Hutch, Lynch Dawg, Tray Lu, Zarius, Purrpy McVay, and Dave Coast resided. By September 9, 1999 -- my daughter Tamberine would be born in the midst of my massive success at that time.

At this point I went through all the emotions of learning about Big Brother, Natural Law, Mass Media Mind Control, Agenda 21, Georgia Guidestones, Codex Alimentarius, Chemtrails, Flouride and Aspartame, Cannibis Oil, Freemasons, NWO, Illuminati, Project Avalon, MK Ultra, Monarch Programming, Club Of Rome, Monsanto, Jesuit Order, Kaballah, Fake UFOs, The Saturnalian/Zoroastrian Bloodlines, Fake Jews, Vaccines, Transhumanism, Child Trafficking, Adrenochrome, Satanic Rituals, Pizzagate, False Flags, Gun Control, Esoteric Science, Sephirot Death Cult, Baal/Bull/Bill, The Occult, Secret Societies, Symbolism, Demonology, Black Magick, Mysticism, World War III, Armageddon, Martial Law, The White Dragon Society, Ancient Egyptian Trinity, The Pharoahs, DUMBS, RFID chips, AI, Journalism, Unlocking Theological Anomalies, Esoterica, EMPCOE, etc.

By 1999, I stopped giving a fuck about what niggas thought. At the age of 23, I would give up on labels and decide to push forward, performing in clubs and battle rapping just to get known. I would later dye my hair red and wear a black hoodie (or wear a black 4XL shirt) – and 5 tattoos (an Erisem tattoo on my right bicep, a Tamberine Emelyn tattoo on my right arm, a Sam Gold on my left bicep, a 78125 tattoo on my left arm, and an Anarchy symbol on my abdomenal area; I would wear a G-Shock sportswatch on my right wrist, and a diamond wristband on my left wrist, with a pair of baseball gloves), and a pair of black Lugz Boots, completing my Sick Touch look for the 9-9 and onwards. All three of my singles sold like 1,000,000,000 copies to date, and at this point, This was more than enough clout to just leave the major-label brand -- and then go to sign a distribution deal with Universal Music & Video Distribution around 1999. I would later work on my EP, named Thermilliation, around the 3rd quarter of '99.

In 2000, I then met numerous rap, punk rock, heavy metal/screamo, country, and R&B singers in the Zuroni mainstream. I held my tongue, for I was a puppet of the mainstream labels myself. In 2000, I decided to adjust my color scheme, and stayed in my ghetto neighborhood in the Detronas Projects, while Tamberine was at my pop's house at the moment. My crew lived in the same projects, and they even lived in the same apartment room.

Near the beginning of the 2K1, I entered the 2001 Epic Bowl Battle Rap Championship, where the grand prize was a replica of the Vince Lombardi Trophy, and $1,000,000,000 in prize money. I took on all of my opponents and finished them all ruthlessly. I str8 up ATE 'em. Wowed the crowd in the process. I got to the championship and faced Jim Beam, who won 3 consecutive championships -- and dethroned that nigga. Thanks to me becoming the new Epic Bowl Champion, relish wasn't hard to come by no more. That $1,000,000,000 prize money was MINES. To celebrate, I finished recording Thermilliation into 2001, and in 2001 was when I founded my Sick Touch label, while still on the Universal umbrella. After I won that Epic Bowl Battle Rap Championship, I toured in Argentina, Australia, Brazil, Britain, Colombia, Cuba, Canada, Dominica, France, Fiji, Germany, Greece, India, Iceland, Indonesia, Iran, Iraq, Italia, Japan, Jamaica, Korea, Libya, Lebanon, Malaysia, Malawi, Mexico, Malta, Maldives, Netherlands, New York City, Palestine, Peru, Russia, Saudi Arabia, Spain, Syria, South Africa, Tanzania, Thailand, Turkey, Uganda, and Yemen in Q1 2001. After that tour, I released my debut EP, Thermilliation, in June 7th, 2001, and that shit sold like, 1,000,000 copies in it’s first week. Eventually, on September 7th, 2001, them sales multiplied by 128x that. I would sell 1 BILLION, baby. I would go Diamond off that EP alone. The shit had 25 tracks on it, it felt more like an album. However I had 75 more tracks made around that span -- and made that shit into a compilation. BOOM. Released that shit months later in September 7th 2001. DIAMOND CERTIFIED. I still make mills off this EP to this day.

Everything was totally NEW by the year 2002, and I decided to record my debut album. Inspired by me listening to the Slim Shady LP, I decided to add "LP" to my album title to give it some oomph. My skills attract Zuroni teen rap sensation Kamaal, who has since released his debut album around the same time as me, and became just as popular as his idol (he became a fan of Samethyst through his material from 1997, saying his favorite album was Welcome To Thundaground, so he was a fan before his massive fame. 2002 was also a great year for the Zuroni hip hop scene, for it began to gain a massive following since Thermilliation was released a year prior to it (2001). Rapper Rawn's Kassassination was released in February 2002, Massa Kaine's Life Unto Part was released in 2002, LCN's Confrontayshuns Of A Homeless Gangsta was re-released in the year 2002 (though it was originally released in 2000). In September 2002, I decided to have his own summit with the Thundaground crew, for he discussed a lot of music, red pill and activism related subjects. Soon after this, me and my crew released our second album, Epic Bowl Championz, on September 10, 2002 on Full Circle Music, which was bought out by my Sick Touch label.

At this point it was ALBUM TIME. In '03, I put out The Sam Gold LP, on February 6, 2003, to worldwide critical acclaim. I would become the first autistic hip hop recording artist to go Platinum. The album’s subject matter ranges in between conspiracies and occult related topics, suicida ideation, arson, mental illness, and antinatalism. My album would become a bestseller in Zuron, and would go Gold worldwide. Know what I'm sizzlin', "Detronas City Anthem (The Finale)" was on there! I made a song about my drink, niggaroni, it's called Dross Juice, that's on the album! "Lugz And Gasmask" is on there, nigga who wouldn't wanna go to a war with some baggy ass sweats, Lugz Chargerz and a fuckin' GASMASK! WILD as fuck. Tha SMASH HIT SINGLE, "I Don't Wanna Live", that's on the album . Sold like, 1,000,000 copies to date. The whole world went nutz. I got arrested not long after this album. Got tried at the World Court. Around the time I was in jail, I heard word that Natika wound up building orphanages and homeless shelters for struggling Middle Easterners, with my proceeds. She even fought alongside her Palestinian brothers and sisters against the Israeli occupiers that her moms supported. Two years have passed and she is respected amongst the Middle East. But she feels as though its time for her to leave. Shit was heartwarming as fuck, she finally found her purpose, it seemed.

Shit was gon change by the time 2004 rolled in. I would fade random people, or just flat out assault political and religious figures on a whim. Me and my homeboyz would raid other mainstream rapper's club parties. I would get into riots a lot more frequent basis. I would snort coke off the crotches of sexy female models if given the chance to go to these house parties. In many cases, I would fuck Cita in the VIP Room (and a couple of other video models). In April 6th of '04, I was arrested for disturbance of the peace, riot inciting, but it was also a ruse for an even more serious crime: a domestic violence case. Simbad had crafted up a made up story of how I beat Natika back in 1997 (even though those injuries were the result of a bad fight, and the injuries Natika sustained back in '01 are from Gorthos Gothel savagely beating her and throwing her around like a ragdoll). By ‘04, I got myself in some major beef with them Illuminati sellouts named Leadaz Of The Free Nation, but me and my crew wound up squashing it after Tony brought a gun into the situation. I would hold the record of getting arrested the most times in a year -- smoking weed in the back of a po-po car would piss off any po-po officer. That and call them servants of Luciferian Occultists. Which they is. Had to say it, yo! I even beefed hella with Gamian Ritter, Sean Gotti, and J. Willis. I stopped fucking with Don Bling, them niggaz backstabbed us in AMP. Me and Emerald Shields kept it cool, we still talk every once in a while. But me and Bling ain't got no words. December of '04 was when I was drinkin' hella Caribull Vodka (Red Bull, Vodka, Sprite, Orange Juice, Grenadine), OD'd on the shit too, as far as I can remember.

2 years later, I had an Anghellic moment, I was now 29 years of age, and I would follow this up with the more aggressive same-day dual release: Rebel/Revolt which were released 2 months later on May 03, 2005. I wanted to go back to my Midcoastsidaz roots, and it had been 10 years after that shit was released, with a pint of darkness -- and that shit sold like 1,000,000 copies apiece. We wound up releasing The Rogue Demonz Show by Hemdula, Criminal Tendencies by J.J. Moneybagz, The Shit List by Liquid Se7en, World Renowned by Gang Green Crew (their debut), DJ Spill's Destructiv death metal band Triumpf's Livin' Legends, Horrur's album Absolute Largess, Joey J's Rise Up, Chris' Dolmethland, Blak Bloc's Chaos VS Order: 1312, and Zuron City Clique's Zuron City All Stars. However, there was a lot of violence, even within them times -- some niggas within the Illuminati that started a shootout with Big Kapo because he refused to pay they ass. Me, being a real nigga, decided to pull my TEC-9 and fired at them. The Illluminati hit men shot and killed Platinum-selling artists Jabrielle McClain, Remy Byrd, Ori "Orion" Pierre, Da'kuan Muhammad, and Zohn Dorsey, all artists that got killed in the midst of the action. My homegirl Cita was shot and wounded in that crossfire as well -- and it would take a while until we started fully hanging out near the end of the year.

I also heard that Natika's altruism lead to her gettin' ostracized by her family. Her ring to the middle east and finding a purpose hurt her family's precious little fee-feez, and oh boy my nigga, riots were abound and lots of butthurt had come to the surface. When she would go to Gothel Family Reunions, she would get nasty looks from all of her family members. It was at this point that Natika would realize that she had become a pariah among her fam. One of them even threatened to kill her "COME PROVE YOUR A MUSLIM TERRORIST YOU TRAITOROUS SAND NIGGER SPIC, WE WILL KILL YOU", and she had to come defend herself and Tamberine. This ended in a battle against her family members. Not only that, the whole City of Gothelia wanted to off her -- and on April 4, 2006 (4.4.06), they got their wish. While Natika, me, Jimmy Mack and K-Vall was taking joyrides around Gothelia, one Gothelian was armed with a crossbow -- and he/she shot the laser crossbow thru the driver's seat of the car, the bow went square in her head, killing her instantly. She was 27 at the time. I couldn't even help but cry my ass off son. I heard the next day, everyone in Gothelia celebrated her death. On top of this, my moms gets diagnosed with panchreatitis on Natika's 28th birthday (August 4th, 2006).

Even worse, on March 7th, 2007, I become subject to an Illuminati Blood Sacrifice, just know that the Anarchist message will help these kids bring that spark to expose this New World Order. I got something on my pager and say "GET READY TO DIE", and I kinda complied. I wasn't afraid of my own coming death. I do worry however, is that kids all over the world won't get to see my message because it goes against the Illuminati. Wether it would be that the Illuminati that wipes out my message and preventing my message, whether it be the parents of these kids who prevent them from listening to my message and taking action upon learning what I learned. I don't know. That fast life during my early years of fame got me even more suicidal -- I wanted to die nigga -- so I decided to go kamikaze and crash my car into the Illuminati people's van - face first! I wound up in the hospital in a comatose state for about a month or two, before eventually surviving. I eventually survived that shit. In the midst of this, the damage done to Detronillac was already done, and so it closed it's doors in April of '07, and AMP Entertainment shut down after co-Gamian blew most of Kapo's masters and publishing on a casino, alongside our label earnings as a way to pay the Illuminati. I wound up leaving AMP, Detronillac and UMG and I took my albums, and my Sick Touch label -- with me.

2 years after AMPs dissolution, I signed a distribution deal with Tropicala Distribution, another distribution arm of Universal. It was at THAT point where I would later release this fourth album, Counterfeit Dreams, on September 3, 2009, which was my darkest album, YET. I let the darkness and destruction consume my ass throughout the entire album, I talked moreso about darkness, death, gore, the occult, went even further on the arson and shit, etc. However, this shit sold 1,000,000,000 copies to date -- it didn't reach Thermilliation numbers, but it was close. THIS album was the one that opened a LOT of doors. And I re-relelased The Sam Gold LP, and Rebel/Revolt on Sick Touch as well. Now you get the full package, and the rest, as they say, is history.

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bigjohnsadventuresintravel · 4 years

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Remembering Pearl Harbor

On Sunday morning, December 7, 1941, the Imperial Japanese Navy Air Service launched a surprise, preemptive strike on the US. Pacific Fleet stationed at Pearl Harbor Hawaii. All around the island of Oahu, other US military bases and strategic locations of defense were simutaneously attacked by Japanese aircraft. The attack began at 0748 hrs., when the first of 353 Imperial Japanese aircraft , (consisting of two waves of fighters, dive bombers, and torpedo planes), broke through the clouds and began wreaking havoc on their unsuspecting targets below.

A japanese bomber soars up and over battleship row after releasing its payload.

In the aftermath of the Sunday morning attack, all 8 US Navy battleship were damaged with 4 sunk. The Japanese also sank 3 destroyers, 3 cruisers, 1 minelayer, and an anti-aircaft training ship. 188 US aircraft had also been destroyed in the attack; 2,403 Americans were killed, and another 1,178 others were wounded. By attacking the US Pacific fleet at Pearl Harbor, the Japanese had hoped to prevent the United States from interfering with its planned military campaigns in Southeast Asia and elsewhere. One day after the devastating attack on Pearl Harbor, the United States declared war on the Empire of Japan.

Big John at Pearl Harbor Memorial, Hawaii

Blessed with the opportunity to spend a considerable amount of time on the island of Oahu, I made it my priority to explore the Pearl Harbor Memorial, as well as other areas directly affected by the December 7 attack. These are just a few of the photos I captured along the way. It was my intention that these photos cause readers to pause and reflect on this momentous event that led the United States into World War II.

Although some of the sites at the Pearl Harbor Memorial are paid attractions, the USS Arizona Memorial is entirely free. If you plan on visiting the site, I highly recommended that you get there as early in the morning as possible as the tickets to the USS Arizona are all on a first come – first serve basis. The later it is that you reach the park, the longer it is that you will most likely have to wait. While waiting your turn to see the USS Arizona, there are a number of museum-quality displays to explore, as well as the USS Bowfin submarine, and a gift shop and cafe.

Going out to the USS Arizona is a very solemn experience. First visitors will be ushered into a theater where they will watch a moving documentary of the Pearl Harbor attack on a large screen. After the film, visitors will board a boat where US Navy sailors will take them out to the wreckage. During the entire tour of the USS Arizona, all talking and texting is highly discouraged. Photographs are encouraged and permitted.

US Navy sailors ferry visitors to and from the USS Arizona

Battleship USS West Virginia sunk and burning at Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941. In background is the battleship USS Tennessee.

The USS West Virginia was hit with seven type 91torpedoes on her port side while bombers struck her with a pair of 16 in (410 mm) armor piercing shells. The ship was sunk but did not capsize. The crippling damage to the USS West Virginia caused it to sink upright to the harbor floor During the attack, 106 sailors lost their lives. The USS West Virginia was eventually repaired and saw action during many World War II battles in the Pacific.

Survivors of Pearl Harbor described the scene as a literal hell on earth. Everywhere there were explosions, screams and fire. Sailors jumped from their ships into the harbor, covered in oil and fully engulfed in flames. All the while, Japanese planes continued their onslaught while brave sailors, Marines, and aviators tried to repel their attack.

The USS Arizona (BB-39) explodes violently as a Japanese bomb detonates inside a powder magazine.

For 1,177 officers and crew of the USS Arizona, there would be no future war stories to be told. For the men that died aboard the USS Arizona, the war ended even before it had begun. Unlike many of the other ships that were sunk on December 7, 1941, the USS Arizona was well beyond repair. The wreckage of the ship, along with her valiant men, still lie at the bottom of Pearl Harbor.

The USS Arizona Memorial with USS Missouri in the background.

The USS Arizona Memorial is an actual gravesite as many sailors are still entombed inside the hull of the ship. The memorial was designed by Alfred Preis, an Austrian-born architect who was sent to a US internment camp after the Pearl Harbor attack.

Although the memorial is positioned directly over the wreckage of the USS Arizona, no part of its structure actually rests on the ship.

To this day, considerable amounts of oil from the ship still seep to the water’s surface.

The names of all lost who served aboard the USS Arizona and lost their lives on December 7, 1941.

An actual anchor belonging to the USS Arizona that was recovered in Pearl Harbor.

The USS Bowfin (SS-287), a Balao-class submarine, saw action in the Pacfic and is now moored at Pearl Harbor, HI.

The lone sailor now stands watch over Pearl Harbor and is a tribute to all those who served in the sea services.

A WWII era torpedo

Prior to the attack on Pearl Harbor, American Naval Command believed that Pearl Harbor was too shallow for a successful torpedo attack. In planning their operation, the Japanese modified their torpedoes to operate effectively in only about 40 feet of water. The Type 91 torpedo, which was deployed in the attack, was an aerial torpedo designed to be launched from an airplane. The torpedo’s wooden stabilizers were shed from the tail fins immediately upon water entry and the weapon power-glided towards its target just below the water’s surface.

Map showing the December 7, 1941 attack on the island of Oahu.

The Pearl Harbor Naval Base wasn’t the only thing on Oahu attacked on December 7, 1941. The Japanese also struck Schofield Barracks, Wheeler Army Airfield, Hickam Airfield, Bellows Field, Naval Air Station Kaneohe Bay, and Ewa Mooring Mast Field. Along with the numerous military personnel killed and wounded, there were also 49 civilians who lost their lives that day.

A restored Japanese Zero at the Pearl Harbor Aviation Museum on Ford Island, Hawaii.

Many Japanese pilots carried these “good-luck” banners with them inside the cockpits of their planes.

Actual wreckage from a Japanese fighter plane.

On December 8, 1941, Sakamaki became the first Japanese prisoner-of-war as he stumbled out of his beached mini-submarine at Bellows Air Station, Hawaii.

Sakamaki was commanding a 79-foot submarine armed with twin 18-inch torpedoes. His mission to destroy the USS Pennsylvania was cut short when it got stuck on reefs at Belllows Air Station and them bombed by US piloys patrolling the area.

My son, Jonah, stands in the same spot the Japanese submarine washed to shore.

This map was found in the beached submarine showing the entrance to Pearl Harbor.

The big barracks at Hickam Field was set ablaze after being strafed and bombed by Japanese aircraft.

During the attack on the barracks, a bomb directly struck the mess hall during breakfast and killed 35 men. In total, the casualties on Hickam Field totaled 121 men killed, 274 wounded and 37 missing.

Today, the Hickam barracks serve as the Headquarters for the Pacific Air Force.

This flag, which once flew proudly over Hickam barracks, was rescued from destruction on the day of infamy.

The Courtyard of Heroes inside the courtyard of the Pacific Air Force Headquarters Building (formerly Hickam barracks).

Those that view the bullet holes and shrapnel damage to these walls are reminded to always stay vigilant.

A wall of remembrance at the Pacific Air Force Headquarters Building

A Japanese dive bomber aims for the runway at Ford Island and Battleship Row.

Tora! Tora! Tora! (Photo courtesy of www.worldwar2database.com)

This view was captured from from the top of Ford Island’s control tower as Hangar 6 burned after being struck by multiple bombs. Men can be seen pushing planes away from the carnage while trying to fight back the flames. Imperial Japanese Navy Captain Mitsuo Fuchida broadcasted the words, “Tora! Tora! Tora!” (Tiger! Tiger! Tiger!) to signal a successful surprise attack. Captain Fuchida later recalled, “When Lieutenant Commander Takahashi and his dive-bombing group mistook my signal and thought we were making a non-surprise attack, his fifty-three planes lost no time in dashing forward.”

The tower on Ford Island as it appears today.

These glass panes still carry bullet holes from the December 7, 1941 attack.

The Pearl Harbor Aviation Museum on Ford Island houses a Boeing B17 Flying Fortress. Visitors to the museum can see this heavy bomber, along with many other planes that helped America win the war in the Pacific.

The Curtiss P-40 Warhawk was one of WWII’s most famous fighters.

This Douglas SBD (slow-but-deadly) Dauntless was the navy’s premier dive bomber of that day.

This massive burial ceremony was performed for the men killed at NAS Kaneohe Bay during the December 7th attack.

This signpost represents the crossroads to war in the Pacific.

Following the vicious attacks on Pearl Harbor, nearly every able-bodied American rushed to the recruiting office to do their part for the war effort.

My maternal grandfather, Robert Triebull, (on the right), crouches for a snapshot outside the Lan Ting restaurant, Waikiki, Hawaii.

Robert Triebull enlisted in the navy. He drove Marines to shore on landing craft (LCVP) during seven major battles in the Pacific. Click on the following link to read more of his story:

Diary of a Higgins Boat Sailor in the Pacific

My paternal Grandfather, Richard Cutler, serving as a Marine in the jungles of the Pacific.

Richard Cutler joined the Marines when the war broke out. He served as a rifleman and also played the saxophone in the Marine Corps band. Read more of his story by clicking this link:

A Leatherneck with a Saxophone Takes to the Pacific

Many scenes from the Pacific Theater can be revisited at Pearl Harbor Memorial.

The USS Missouri (BB-63) is now permanently moored at Ford Island, Hawaii, USA.

Signing an end to WWII aboard the USS Missouri Battleship.

On September 2, 1945, the Japanese joined with allied forces aboard the battleship USS Missouri (BB-63) to sign the Instruments of Surrender. This event marked the allies’ victory over Japan and the ended the war.

Big John takes his mother to meet Sterling Cale, one of the last remaining survivors of the Pearl Harbor Attack.

Sterling Cale is a true American Hero. He went on to survive the attack on Pearl Harbor, only to serve again in both the Korean War and Vietnam. On the day of our visit, Sterling Cale was at the park signing autographs for his inspiring autobiography.

Remembering Pearl Harbor

Through the passing of time, historical events can become so distant that they adopt an almost abstract quality to them. In remembering Pearl Harbor, I hope we always remember that the men that died there, and those men and women that ultimately served and sacrificed in the Second World War, were not some abstract figures in some bygone, abstract event. The attack on Pearl Harbor – the day that will live in infamy – involved the very heart of America, our very own families and friends.

Happy travels,

Big John

#Hawaii #Oahu #pearl harbor #WW2

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