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1kook · 3 years

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ZOOM CALL

⇢ meeting one

jeon jungkook x (f) reader

⇢ series masterlist

summary: In a sea of black screens and faceless names, there’s one smiley boy that beams back at you through the dimly lit screen of your laptop, a tiny Jeon Jungkook (he/him) tacked to the corner of his window. genre: fluff, slice of life, smut (tags tba) warnings: jk is a ditzy lil nerdy sweetheart, college crushes, social distancing -_-, use of the zoom app, 1kook Builds a Healthy Relationship (Version 2.0) ratings: M (18+) wc: 3.2k

notes: well. here we are. as always i have to thank common sense (coincidentally named rumu @kigurumu ) for reading this over and pointing out little details <3 after much deliberation, i have decided to post our beloved zoom jk (see origin story here) in the form of short ‘drabbles’ depicting diff zoom calls with this being The Beginning™️ so please... bare with me </3 ty to all the nice ppl who have been excited for this, luv u very much 🥺

There are times in human history where words captivate their audience; times when single words or phrases wrap around the listener, melt into their bones and radiate warmth from within. But rarely does one word manage such an impact, rarely is it as revered and as cherished as the word cancelled is to most college students.

Class is cancelled, group meetings are cancelled, the stupidly big semester final project was cancelled. You could cancel nearly anything, and in most cases, it would be beautiful. Cancelled meant more time to sleep in the morning, an afternoon free of pesky project partners, a pleasant reprieve from having to socialize with anyone. It was a glorious word with heavenly connotations that brought tears of joy to your eyes whenever you saw it appear in an email preview.

Except this one.

Spring Semester 2021: On-Campus Classes CANCELLED — Social Distance Measures as per State Regula…

Your last semester as a student in university… online? You couldn’t believe it. All these years of studying rigorously, cramming for exams, attaining a near perfect GPA— just to sit in your bedroom and stare at your computer screen for the last 15 weeks of classes? Had your friends not been there to mope with you, you’re certain a part of you would have gone on a rampage and cursed every bacteria known to mankind for doing this to you.

It was your last year, you whined in private (never in public; your friends had always considered you the mature one, the studious friend who kept everyone in order), yet here you were, setting up your desk for your last ever first day of classes with quite possibly the biggest pout on your face.

Zoom, your school had raved in an email a few weeks into the break, the desktop application that will keep us united in these trying times! As if, you huffed, giving the stupid application permission to connect to your computer’s camera and audio systems. What even was proper Zoom etiquette? Did you have to enter the meeting and greet every student cheerfully? You had always said hi to your classmates before, but something about saying it over a computer mic felt awkward.

The feeling doubled when you finally entered the meeting, only to be met with a sea of black screens save for your professor, who seemed to be clicking around his computer in a rather confused fashion. This was going to suck, you thought bitterly.

You had entered the room ten minutes earlier because, well, you always showed up to class a few minutes earlier than the scheduled meeting time. But was there any point to doing that here? Usually, the time before class was spent making small talk with said classmates, discussing the readings or the assignments, talking mindlessly about whatever came to mind. But something in your gut said it would be weird to do that now.

So you sit in silence for the next ten minutes, nervously tapping your pen against your desk as you wait for the professor to launch into whatever introductory monologue he had planned. You toy with your phone, scrolling through your twitter feed only to see a brigade of tweets from students all over the nation suffering the same fate as you. It was a trending topic.

Two minutes before the class starts, you hear the tell-tale ping of someone entering the meeting. You wave it off just like you have your other 41 classmates thus far, but then there’s the clearing of a throat, and a sweet, “good morning” filtering through your speakers. Lifting your head from the hunched over position you had assumed while glancing at your phone, you’re startled by the sudden handsome face that appears before you.

In a sea of black screens and faceless names, there’s one smiley boy that beams back at you through the dimly lit screen of your laptop, a tiny Jeon Jungkook (he/him) tacked to the corner of his window.

He’s nothing short of a dreamboat, soft and doughy cheeks that catch the hue of the screen light, highlighting his cheekbones in a faint blue color. Imploring doe eyes blinking widely at the screen as he clicks around, narrating his confusion in a low mumble (mic still on, how cute). Dark hair— was it brown? black? the pixelated screen made it hard to tell —messily pushed away from his face.

And his voice, oh his voice. It matches his gentle appearance perfectly. A soft snort. “Am I the only one here?” he says, thin lips pulled to the side in a bashful grin.

The professor laughs with him. “No, but you are the only one with your camera on,” he responds.

You’re not sure if it’s the professor’s teasing jab at literally everyone else or the need to support the cutie who smiles softly at screen, but suddenly, a handful of windows come to life. Your classmates fill up the screen, dressed in an array of styles with bedrooms (and, on the rare occasion, dorm rooms) to match. You nibble at your bottom lip, finger hovering over the button that will expose your appearance to the rest of your classmates

Eventually, the wordless peer pressure, the need to be a good student, and the supportive face of Jeon Jungkook (he/him) have you inhaling sharply before dutifully clicking the camera on. Your face appears on screen, nearly lost in the now overwhelming sea of faces. You’re one of the last ones to turn your camera on, both pages of your zoom meeting participant windows filled with the contrasting images of your classmates joining from their bedrooms. The professor claps in delight, and finally dives into the mandatory first day of classes spiel.

Syllabuses, group work, asynchronous lectures. You’ve heard these words all before, have practically memorized this class’s syllabus like the back of your hand. The pros of being an overachiever. The cons are, however, that you think every question your classmates ask is stupid. Read the syllabus, you want to scream. But it’s the first day of class. You don’t even know who your assigned study group partners (as mentioned in the syllabus) are and you certainly don’t want them to dislike you so soon. They can do that after the third meeting, but not today.

You’re not entirely surprised when your attention drifts away from the professor and the endless sea of stupid questions he’s left to answer. Even when you realize you’ve stopped paying attention, you don’t bother forcing yourself to tune back in. No, instead your focus drifts across the windows of faces.

Some of your classmates are as bored as you, glaring at the screen with disinterest, or glancing off to the side probably at their phones. So you start looking at their rooms, analyzing their decorations and posters as if you’re a professional critic on some house design show.

Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is in a rather plain dorm room. Plain light gray walls— or maybe it’s white —free of decoration. He’s sitting at the provided desk, just like you. The only reason you focus on that is because there’s a multitude of your classmates lazily sprawled across their beds, slumped over a couch. Hardly anyone is sitting at attention like you. Well, except for Jeon Jungkook (he/him). He’s practically exposing the entirety of his living accommodation with the way his camera is set up.

Above eye level, reaching just below his chest, with the room all laid out before you. A neat twin bed, sheets meticulously made. It almost looks like the decorative set at a furniture store with the way the comforter and variety of pillows are placed. He doesn’t seem to be in the crappy dorms you remember, which leaves you wondering where exactly he’s been assigned. You know certain sports clubs get fancier dormitories. Anyway, there’s a door off the side of the bed, a black guitar standing in the corner just behind it. You wonder what’s behind the camera, if maybe his desk is as organized as the rest of his room. Maybe his closet is his weakness, you muse, imagining poor Jeon Jungkook (he/him) with a tornado of a closet. But the thought doesn’t make that much sense, so you discard it quickly.

Anyway, his dorm room. It’s neat and orderly, makes you tilt your head curiously as he swivels from side to side before you. As for himself, he’s dressed in a plain white sweater, hoodie strings perfectly even. His hair has long since fallen over his forehead, but he’s pushed it over this time in a fluffy side part. He was adorably soft.

He’s paying attention to the professor like he genuinely treasures every word that comes off his tongue, nodding along understandingly. He’s even got a pencil in hand, leaning forward every few seconds to scribble something down hurriedly. Not like this is all on the syllabus or anything, you think.

But as soon as the thought crosses your mind, it’s dispelled just as fast. He’s only trying to be a good student, you scold yourself, feeling oddly mean for wanting to make fun of this sweet boy. Especially when he raises his hand a second later and asks the first good question of the day. Something about the grading scale for group projects and how much is determined by the group members themselves. You’re not too sure, the words get a little fuzzy when he starts speaking and his pink lips pull down into an endearing pout.

A couple minutes later and your professor finally wraps up the questions, telling everyone to email him if any other questions arise throughout the semester. Just as you’re sighing in relief, he utters those dreaded words: “Ice-breakers!” he exclaims, and the whole class grimaces, much to his amusement. He says something about feeling the excitement through the screen, but then changes gears. “Since it’s a little hard to talk to your neighbor, I’m going to test out the Breakout Rooms and see how that works, okay guys?”

You frown. Breakout Rooms? What on earth was that? Like most of your classmates, this is pretty much your first rodeo with the Zoom application. He was sending you all into small groups, where? The answer presents itself a few seconds later, a message box appearing on your screen.

The host is inviting you to join a Breakout Room: Group 4

Your professor is still chattering in the background when you nervously accept the invitation, his voice suddenly cut off as your computer jumps to a new loading screen. It takes a while before you’re suddenly dumped into a new room. And then you’re staring at your own face, blown up on your own screen in a rather uncomfortable way. Jeez, did you really look like this?

As soon as you get to picking at your appearance, your mirrored reflection jumps to the side, once, then twice more to fit the three new guests in your room. Silence fills your bedroom as you and your classmates all stare at each other nervously for a couple seconds, unsure of what to say. This was, after all, your first meeting.

Just as you’ve gathered all your courage to click your microphone on, the screen jumps around once more and suddenly Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is in your Breakout Room. Immediately, his surprised face melts into the most reassuring grin you’ve ever seen, and he’s practically jumping forward to turn his mic on.

“Good morning, everyone,” he says, smooth and low. It’s like the awkward tension melts away under the pressure of his pretty smile, your classmates responding back with polite hellos and good mornings to him. You barely get yours in before Jeon Jungkook (he/him) starts talking again. “So… how are you guys?”

His words, sweet and caring as they are, send the five of you into a rather mindless conversation. Talking about nothing really, just whatever comes to mind about the class, about the semester, about the remote learning. Then Jungkook— “just Jungkook is fine!” he tells the other four of you with that same too pure look on his face after someone refers to him by his whole name —starts talking about some movie he had seen on Netflix the other day, something his friend recommended to him. Truthfully, you have zero interest in the type of plot he is describing, and you can tell some of the other people in your group don’t either. But he’s absorbed in his storytelling, features lit up as he details every last plot point of the film like his life depends on it. There’s a wordless agreement to let him ramble on.

By the time Jungkook has finished his novella recapture of whatever movie he was talking about, a green message bubble appears at the top of your screen. It’s a message from your professor, who is telling you the small group meeting will end in a few more minutes.

“Aw, that sucks,” Jungkook laughs, rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly. And then, “oh! We haven’t answered our icebreaker question yet!”

Ah, yes. The reason for this small group was to get to know each other, not for Jungkook to recount an entire two hour movie for you all. “Oh, right,” you agree, probably the first words you’ve said in the past five minutes. You navigate to the chat box, where your professor had hastily dumped the question before sending you all off. “What’s one thing you miss most about being on campus?” you read aloud, glancing back at the screen.

Your group mates are all in various states of blissful comfort, the gaps of their nervousness smoothed over by Jungkook’s bubbly personality, and the hesitation they’d shown at the beginning is practically gone. Someone steps forward and says something about the campus dining hall. Jungkook laughs, loud and airy, claps his hands all cute too. Someone else says the library because it was a good place to study. There’s a lull and you jump in quickly. “I think I’ll miss the couches by the gym in the student center the most,” you confess, though you doubt anyone knows which ones you mean. They were a set of brightly colored couches tucked into a cranny behind the Starbucks just outside the campus gym, avidly avoided by the gym rats who were determined to ignore the sugary drinks and snacks.

Apparently, the hiding spot isn’t as secretive as you thought. “Oh, the ones by the Starbucks?” Jungkook exclaims, excitedly looking at his screen. You have this fluttery feeling that he’s looking at you for the first time. You nod, and he quite positively beams. “I love those!”

“Yeah, I spend a lot of time there,” you say, though it’s a little stilted because you’re not exactly sure how you’re supposed to react to Jungkook’s enthusiasm. Though his outgoing personality cloaks you in comfort, his pretty smile has your heartbeat acting a little funny.

Jungkook’s got these huge eyes, blinking owlishly at you. “Really? So do I!” And then you both seem to have the same realization. His head tilts to the side cutely, an amused smile on his face, “I’ve never seen you there.”

“I’ve never seen you there,” you shoot back, a little snarkier than necessary, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice. His smile turns goofy.

“Woah,” he says in a rather dreamy tone, “isn’t that so cool? We spent so much time in the same place, but never crossed paths before,” he babbles. He’s stopped looking at his computer, leaning back in a sort of dazed manner with this sparkly look to his eyes, much to everyone’s amusement. Except yours, because frankly, it sounds a little bit like he’s describing— “fate!” he says suddenly, like it’s truly an aha! moment. He pauses, taps his finger against his chin. “Or anti-fate? I’m not sure. But it’s like— we could’ve met so many times before and we didn’t.” Doe eyes return to the screen, flickering around until they presumably land on you again. “What do you think, __?”

And he’s just so cute, makes the rigid shield around your chest soften for the slightest moment as you nod meekly. “Uhh, yeah. Fate,” you agree, and then get to hear him laugh and giggle for about three seconds before you’re suddenly thrown back into the larger Zoom meeting.

Weirdly flustered, you hurriedly click your microphone back off, and nearly contemplate the camera too. But then the professor is asking you all to share what you talked about and you’re resigning yourself to a few more minutes of screen time while the class wraps up. By the looks of it, not everyone had as an enjoyable time as you did. Part of you is thankful you didn’t get stuck in an awkward small group. The other part recognizes wholeheartedly that it’s all thanks to one smiley boy at the bottom of your screen.

“And group 4?” the professor asks, and you blink yourself back into attention. Before you can unmute yourself and answer for your group, Jungkook is beating you to it.

“We talked about a lot of things,” Jungkook answers cheerfully. From your view, you get a front row seat to the sheer power of Jungkook’s magnetic personality, watching as all your listless classmates suddenly snap back from their daydreams to zero in on whatever Jungkook is saying. He fills in the professor about what you talked about, from the movies to the couches, and you feel weirdly mushy when his eyes flicker across the screen before settling with a soft smile.

He can’t possibly be looking at me, you tell yourself. Your hand jerks forward to turn the camera off, but in your haste, end up knocking down the water bottle on your desk. You scramble to straighten it, thanking the universe for the fact you actually remembered to screw on the cap. You glance back at the screen, and nearly die when you catch sight of a giggly Jungkook, smile hidden behind an adorable sweater paw as he laughs at something on screen. Oh no, was he looking at me? you panic.

“Alright, everyone,” your professor says in that “I’m about to wrap this class up” voice. Too close to the screen, voice a little too loud. “Good meeting today, I’ll see you all again on Wednesday. Stay safe.”

“Bye!” Jungkook sings sweetly, and everyone else follows as they all bid adieu to the professor. Still a little frazzled from the possibility that Jungkook may have watched you flail around like a total loser, you take a second longer to turn your mic on. Your classmates quickly leave the meeting, leaving only a few stragglers until the very end.

Surprisingly, Jungkook is here too, brown eyes focused on the screen. You unmute yourself. “Um,” you stammer, eyes unwillingly flickering over to Jungkook who smiles at the sound of your voice. “Goodbye. Thank you,” you rush out, and then quickly leave the meeting as well.

With the meeting over, you’re left staring at the home page of the Zoom app, heart beating a little too fast to be normal. Your face feels warm, and your fingers tremble from some unfamiliar, giddy feeling in your chest. You exhale slowly, hand coming up to rub at your chin as if that will somehow explain the weird excitement from your Zoom meeting. Maybe it was just adrenaline, or nervousness, you try to convince yourself. After all, the first day of classes is always nerve-wracking.

Except when you navigate to your class page and begin to mindlessly scroll through the class roster, there’s a weird stutter to your heartbeat when you catch sight of that Jeon Jungkook (he/him) that appears halfway down the list.

#bangtanhq #networkbangtan #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fic #jjk smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jjk♡#jjk fic #bts smut #bts fic #mine

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yogaadvise · 3 years

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Introduction to the Niyamas

Yoga is an ancient system for human development that is countless years of ages. Patanjali was a wonderful sage who described the system into the text the Yoga exercise Sutras. While he laid out yoga right into a text, yoga exercise itself came several centuries prior to him and was passed down through sages as well as educators with practice.

Yoga is a system separated into 8 parts, also referred to as limbs. While the West often miscategorizes yoga exercise as just among the arm or legs known as asana, yoga includes multiple facets that integrate mentors for both the internal and also outside aspects of individual development.

The limbs are categorized listed below in Sanskrit with the English matching: 1. Yamas: Behavior or restraints 2. Niyamas: Way of life development 3. Asana: Postures 4. Pranayama: Control of the breath 5. Pratyahara: Withdrawal of the senses 6. Dharana: Concentration 7. Dhyana: Meditation 8. Samadhi: Realization

Both the Yamas and also Niyamas have extra rungs, elements that contribute to the entire limb. The yamas contains ahimsa (non-harming), satya (fact), brahmacharya (ideal usage of sex-related energy), asteya (non-stealing), aparigraha (non-possessiveness). Specialists need to have a solid understanding of the yamas prior to establishing the niyamas. Without exercising the very first arm or leg, exercising the second limb can cause injury to the individual without the appropriate habits from the individual.

The Niyamas are composed of the following rungs: 1. Saucha: Sanitation or purity 2. Santosha: Contentment 3. Tapas: Self-discipline 4. Svadhyaya: Self-study 5. Ishvara Pranidhana: Surrender to the Divine will

The Niyamas

The Niyamas concentrates on personal regards that not only influences the individual yet just how they connect with others. Exercising the niyamas brings about a higher understanding of the self and helps in the path to realization.

Saucha-- Sanitation or Purity

Saucha translates right into cleanliness or purity. Associating with just how individuals manage their psyches, connections, as well as actions to tasks, saucha allows individuals to deal with stability and also presence.

From the viewpoint of personal activities, purity can entail cleanses. Cleanses permit stuck energy in the body and also mind to move and also liberate the mind and also body for the other rungs of the niyamas and arm or legs of yoga. Cleanses can associate with all aspects of a person's life. They can cleanse their body from toxins, clean their houses, and remove their minds from adverse self-talk.

From a relationship perspective, exercising saucha involves not just connections with individuals yet their atmosphere, animals, things, and anything beyond themselves. To practice saucha, individuals have to remove their requirement for control and also assumptions. Because of this, it emerges that the Yamas such as ahimsa (do no harm) and also satya (truth) should be practiced initially. For relationships to be pure, one must let go what his or her concept of purity is and also allow whatever communication to merely happen. As opposed to enforcing expectations and also standards, to practice saucha one should accept what or who is without trying to regulate, change, or adjust it.

In regards to action, exercising saucha can be explained as not multitasking. To have a pure or undistracted minute or communication with themselves or others, one should attempt not to dilute it with interruptions. When having a discussion with someone else, the moment is no longer in between those two individuals when he or she starts to respond to notices on their phone. The minute ends up being spoiled by the attention lost.

From an asana standpoint, people can look internal to see what the factor of their technique is. Do they show off to thrill others in the class? Do they push also difficult to the factor of injury to "get involved in a posture"? To practice saucha in their asana technique, yogis need to subtract any kind of preconceived notions or objectives and simply accept where they are at in the process.

Santosha — Contentment

By exercising saucha, santosha becomes simpler to achieve. Rather than being disturbed with what people do or do not have actually, getting stuck in the previous or today, individuals can end up being content with what they have now. By recognizing that life is not always excellent, that there will always be challenges or things to learn, individuals can find out to find joy with whatever situation or event arises.

To practice santosha, people can just stop seeking enjoyment or trying to prevent undesirable scenarios. Rather than investing their time and also mental effort looking for pleasure or trying to prevent pain, experts can find out to quit controlling situations and also learn to locate ease in whatever their existing situation is. By approving that whatever psychological disturbance is an outcome of their very own wish to manage, aim, or expect, people can deal with what they can manage- their reaction or reaction to undesirable occasions and also locate contentment.

From an asana perspective, people can discover to be content with where they remain in their technique. As opposed to aiming for advanced positions they can find satisfaction with where the body goes to in the procedure. Other instances, can be seen with injuries, age, or restricting physical conditions where certain postures are no more attainable. Instead of being disturbed with what they are no much longer able to do, they can discover ease in their existing practice.

Tapas — Self Discipline

By discovering contentment as well as coming close to life with purity, self-control becomes less complicated to practice. Tapas actually equates into "heat" as well as can be seen as how one continues to keep their internal fire melting to rid themselves of thoughts and actions that are not conducive to supporting a healthy and balanced mind and body.

By utilizing self-control to exercise the limbs and also rungs in the past, cleansing the body, not triggering harm, being genuine, and so forth, the body and mind naturally rids itself of negative habits, bad wellness, and mental disturbances. Practicing self-discipline is a choice and also pupils require to decide to practice daily, picking maybe less amazing however extra productive tasks and also thoughts that generate lasting joy and results versus shorter-term pleasures or much easier paths that can trigger injury to the body as well as spirit.

Relating to asana, tapas can be viewed as remaining to practice regularly to maintain the energy moving via the body and to maintain the body and mind healthy for the following arm or legs of pranayama, pratyahara, therefore on.

Svadhyaya — Self Study

By exercising syadhyaya, one experiences greater credibility to their very own life. By practicing self-study, yogis can discover that they lack all of the incorrect realities, tales, classifications, expectations, and unfavorable self-talk that everybody enforces on themselves.

To participate in svadhyaya, one must require to understand the estimates that they produce right into the world. When a person adversely checks out somebody as arrogant, they are able to see the arrogance because they possess the qualities themselves. People can additionally see what they are thoroughly familiar with. Once individuals have the ability to see what they are projecting, they can begin to recognize their very own demons and also ways to resolve them.

In regards to asana, students should ask themselves exactly how their method is serving them. Are they gotten ready for the position? Is a strenuous practice offering them? Why are the practicing or not exercising at particular strength levels? Exactly how do they really feel after their method? Is the method the practice benefiting them as a whole. By asking these concerns, students can adapt their yoga method to what they need versus what they want.

Isvara Pranidhana-- Surrender to the Divine Will

Isvara Pranidhana can be translated into the abandonment of the Divine will or a letting go of the vanity. By recognizing that we are all component of something bigger than the individual self, one's reason for being comes to be even more clear. When releasing the ego, a person is surrendering to a higher pressure whether it be God, deep space, or simply life.

By giving up, individuals can discover to approve whatever comes their way without requiring to challenge it or produce added suffering. There is a tranquillity in no more needing to regulate or compel expectations since there is an understanding that whatever happens whether it really feels favorable or negative is meant to occur.

In an asana practice, one can merely succumb to how their method is that day. If the method is not pleasurable, they can accept that there is a higher purpose for it not having the degree of pleasure that they want.

The Other Niyamas

While the Yoga exercise Sutras show 5 niyamas, the Upanishads indicate 10 niyamas. The Upanishads were composed in the later part of the Vedic duration as well as give an extra thorough explanation of the yoga exercise practice.

The 10 niyamas according to Upanishads are as complies with: 1. Hri: Modesty 2. Santosha: Contentment 3. Dana: Charity 4. Astikya: Faith 5. Ishvarapujana: Prayer of the Lord 6. Siddhānta śrāvaṇa: Scriptural Listening 7. Mati: Cognition 8. Vrata: Sacred vows 9. Japa: Incantation 10. Tapas: Self-Discipline

Conclusion

Yoga is a system that includes 8 parts. The niyamas is the 2nd arm or leg of yoga, with the most usual depiction concentrating on the 5 rungs. To exercise the 2nd limb of yoga, experts ought to likewise examine the very first arm or leg of yoga exercise to assist ensure they are exercising the niyamas to their max potential. In a similar way, to exercise asana, pranayama and also the remainder of the arm or legs wisely, experts ought to also study the 5 niyamas.

#asana #bikram yoga #hot yoga #meditation #pilates #pranayama #restorative yoga #yoga #yoga poses #yoga works

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theculturedmarxist · 3 years

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@expatiating

>Literally anyone who lived in a communist or socialist regime: it was terrible..... 16 year old white girl on tumblr: yeah but that wasn’t real communism :///

You mean anyone like this, you stupid fucking asshole?

Oppressive and grey? No, growing up under communism was the happiest time of my life

When people ask me what it was like growing up behind the Iron Curtain in Hungary in the Seventies and Eighties, most expect to hear tales of secret police, bread queues and other nasty manifestations of life in a one-party state.

They are invariably disappointed when I explain that the reality was quite different, and communist Hungary, far from being hell on earth, was in fact, rather a fun place to live.

The communists provided everyone with guaranteed employment, good education and free healthcare. Violent crime was virtually non-existent.

But perhaps the best thing of all was the overriding sense of camaraderie, a spirit lacking in my adopted Britain and, indeed, whenever I go back to Hungary today. People trusted one another, and what we had we shared.

youtube

Learn from Cuba, Says World Bank

The island's economy, which suffered devastating losses in production after the Soviet Union withdrew its aid, especially its oil supplies, a decade ago, has yet to fully recover. Annual economic growth, fuelled in part by a growing tourism industry and limited foreign investment, has been halting and, for the most part, anaemic.

Moreover, its economic policies are generally anathema to the Bank. The government controls virtually the entire economy, permitting private entrepreneurs the tiniest of spaces. It heavily subsidises virtually all staples and commodities; its currency is not convertible to anything. It retains tight control over all foreign investment, and often changes the rules abruptly and for political reasons.

At the same time, however, its record of social achievement has not only been sustained; it's been enhanced, according to the WDI.

It has reduced its infant mortality rate from 11 per 1,000 births in 1990 to seven in 1999, which places it firmly in the ranks of the western industrialised nations. It now stands at six, according to Jo Ritzen, the Bank's Vice President for Development Policy who visited Cuba privately several months ago to see for himself.

By comparison, the infant mortality rate for Argentina stood at 18 in 1999; Chile's was down to ten; and Costa Rica, 12. For the entire Latin American and Caribbean region as a whole, the average was 30 in 1999.

Similarly, the mortality rate for children under five in Cuba has fallen from 13 to eight per thousand over the decade. That figure is 50 percent lower than the rate in Chile, the Latin American country closest to Cuba's achievement. For the region as a whole, the average was 38 in 1999.

"Six for every 1,000 in infant mortality - the same level as Spain - is just unbelievable," according to Ritzen, a former education minister in the Netherlands. "You observe it, and so you see that Cuba has done exceedingly well in the human development area."

Indeed, in Ritzen's own field the figures tell much the same story. Net primary enrolment for both girls and boys reached 100 percent in 1997, up from 92 percent in 1990. That was as high as most developed nations, higher even than the US rate and well above 80-90 percent rates achieved by the most advanced Latin American countries.

"Even in education performance, Cuba's is very much in tune with the developed world, and much higher than schools in, say, Argentina, Brazil, or Chile."

It is no wonder, in some ways. Public spending on education in Cuba amounts to about 6.7 percent of gross national income, twice the proportion in other Latin America and Caribbean countries and even Singapore.

There were 12 primary pupils for every Cuban teacher in 1997, a ratio that ranked with Sweden, rather than any other developing country. The Latin American and East Asian average was twice as high at 25 to one.

The average youth (ages 15-24) illiteracy rate in Latin America and the Caribbean stands at seven percent. In Cuba, the rate is zero. In Latin America, where the average is seven percent, only Uruguay approaches that achievement, with one percent youth illiteracy.

"Cuba managed to reduce illiteracy from 40 percent to zero within ten years," said Ritzen. "If Cuba shows that it is possible, it shifts the burden of proof to those who say it's not possible."

Similarly, Cuba devoted 9.1 percent of its gross domestic product (GDP) during the 1990s to health care, roughly equivalent to Canada's rate. Its ratio of 5.3 doctors per 1,000 people was the highest in the world.

The question that these statistics pose, of course, is whether the Cuban experience can be replicated. The answer given here is probably not.

"What does it is the incredible dedication," according to Wayne Smith, who was head of the US Interests Section in Havana in the late 1970s and early 1980s and has travelled to the island many times since. "Doctors in Cuba can make more driving cabs and working in hotels, but they don't. They're just very dedicated," he said.

youtube

This amazing video and documentary, produced by Neighbor Democracy, details the evolving communal organs within the Rojava Revolution, from security to health care.

This 40 minute video is an in-depth look into the inner workings of the commune system of Rojava and how they work in practice. Rojava is the colloquial name for the Democratic Federation of Northern Syria (DFNS), a multi-ethnic, pluralist, women’s liberationist, and radically democratic autonomous zone that has grown out of the context of the Syrian Civil War. While there is frequent and thorough reporting on the military aspects of the Revolution in Rojava, especially their fight against Daesh (ISIS) and the Turkish State, the social revolution as it relates to the everyday lives of the people living there is rarely given anything more than a cursory overview, even in radical circles.

This video is one attempt to make up for that gap in easily digestible information about the way the day-to-day autonomous organizing affects daily life in Rojava. It also closes with a call for people in the US and elsewhere to build communes along similar lines, while discussing some possible contextual considerations specific to North America.

The communes in the DFNS are birthed out of tireless organizing by everyday people, predominately Kurdish women, in an effort that started clandestinely in the days of the Regime, but has since led to structures that could fill the power vacuum left in the war. The people of the DFNS are working out in practice through trial-and-error the culmination of 40 years of theoretical and practical knowledge built through the Kurdish struggle, and most thoroughly laid out by the imprisoned PKK leader, Abdullah Ocalan.

The communes have many similarities to the neighborhood assemblies that were the focus of the late American communalist Murray Bookchin, who was an inspiration for Ocalan. There are an estimated 4,000 communes in Rojava today, run through direct democracy of all the residents (50-150 families). The work of the commune is divided up into committees which anyone can join. The most common committees are explored in-depth in this video, and their timestamps can be found below. Each committee covered in the video can be found in its own short clip on the Neighbor Democracy channel so that these short, easy-to-digest videos can me shared in discussions about specific topics relating to communal approaches to various aspects of life.

Marinaleda: Will 'free homes' solve Spain's evictions crisis?

In the wake of Spain's property crash, hundreds of thousands of homes have been repossessed. While one regional government says it will seize repossessed properties from the banks, a little town is doing away with mortgages altogether.

In Marinaleda, residents like 42-year-old father-of-three, David Gonzalez Molina, are building their own homes.

While he burrows with a pneumatic drill into the earth, David nonchalantly says it "should take a couple of years".

However, when his new house is finished he will have paid "absolutely nothing".

Free bricks and mortar

The town hall in this small, aesthetically unremarkable town an hour-and-a-bit east of Seville, has given David 190 sq m (2,000 sq ft) of land.

He and others are only eligible after they have been registered residents of Marinaleda for at least two years.

The bricks and mortar are also a gift, this time from the regional government of Andalusia.

Only once his home is finished will he start paying 15 euros (£13) a month, to the regional government, to refund the cost of other building materials.

Of course, most people do not know how to build a house, so the town hall in Marinaleda throws in some expertise.

It employs several professional builders and plumbers, a couple of whom work alongside David, to help him construct his house.

HOMAGE TO CATALONIA

This was in late December 1936, less than seven months ago as I write, and yet it is a period that has already receded into enormous distance. Later events have obliterated it much more completely than they have obliterated 1935, or 1905, for that matter. I had come to Spain with some notion of writing newspaper articles, but I had joined the militia almost immediately, because at that time and in that atmosphere it seemed the only conceivable thing to do. The Anarchists were still in virtual control of Catalonia and the revolution was still in full swing. To anyone who had been there since the beginning it probably seemed even in December or January that the revolutionary period was ending; but when one came straight from England the aspect of Barcelona was something startling and overwhelming. It was the first time that I had ever been in a town where the working class was in the saddle. Practically every building of any size had been seized by the workers and was draped with red flags or with the red and black flag of the Anarchists; every wall was scrawled with the hammer and sickle and with the initials of the revolutionary parties; almost every church had been gutted and its images burnt. Churches here and there were being systematically demolished by gangs of workmen. Every shop and café had an inscription saying that it had been collectivized; even the bootblacks had been collectivized and their boxes painted red and black. Waiters and shop-walkers looked you in the face and treated you as an equal. Servile and even ceremonial forms of speech had temporarily disappeared. Nobody said ‘Señior’ or ‘Don’ or even ‘Usted’; everyone called everyone else ‘Comrade’ and ‘Thou’, and said ‘Salud!’ instead of ‘Buenos dias’. Tipping was forbidden by law; almost my first experience was receiving a lecture from a hotel manager for trying to tip a lift-boy. There were no private motor-cars, they had all been commandeered, and all the trams and taxis and much of the other transport were painted red and black. The revolutionary posters were everywhere, flaming from the walls in clean reds and blues that made the few remaining advertisements look like daubs of mud. Down the Ramblas, the wide central artery of the town where crowds of people streamed constantly to and fro, the loudspeakers were bellowing revolutionary songs all day and far into the night. And it was the aspect of the crowds that was the queerest thing of all. In outward appearance it was a town in which the wealthy classes had practically ceased to exist. Except for a small number of women and foreigners there were no ‘well-dressed’ people at all. Practically everyone wore rough working-class clothes, or blue overalls, or some variant of the militia uniform. All this was queer and moving. There was much in it that I did not understand, in some ways I did not even like it, but I recognized it immediately as a state of affairs worth fighting for. Also I believed that things were as they appeared, that this was really a workers' State and that the entire bourgeoisie had either fled, been killed, or voluntarily come over to the workers' side; I did not realize that great numbers of well-to-do bourgeois were simply lying low and disguising themselves as proletarians for the time being.

Together with all this there was something of the evil atmosphere of war. The town had a gaunt untidy look, roads and buildings were in poor repair, the streets at night were dimly lit for fear of air-raids, the shops were mostly shabby and half-empty. Meat was scarce and milk practically unobtainable, there was a shortage of coal, sugar, and petrol, and a really serious shortage of bread. Even at this period the bread-queues were often hundreds of yards long. Yet so far as one could judge the people were contented and hopeful. There was no unemployment, and the price of living was still extremely low; you saw very few conspicuously destitute people, and no beggars except the gipsies. Above all, there was a belief in the revolution and the future, a feeling of having suddenly emerged into an era of equality and freedom. Human beings were trying to behave as human beings and not as cogs in the capitalist machine. In the barbers' shops were Anarchist notices (the barbers were mostly Anarchists) solemnly explaining that barbers were no longer slaves. In the streets were coloured posters appealing to prostitutes to stop being prostitutes. To anyone from the hard-boiled, sneering civilization of the English-speaking races there was something rather pathetic in the literalness with which these idealistic Spaniards took the hackneyed phrases of revolution. At that time revolutionary ballads of the naivest kind, all about proletarian brotherhood and the wickedness of Mussolini, were being sold on the streets for a few centimes each. I have often seen an illiterate militiaman buy one of these ballads, laboriously spell out the words, and then, when he had got the hang of it, begin singing it to an appropriate tune.

youtube

Feel free to unfuck yourself you class cuck.

#communism #socialism #anarchism #you're a fucking moron and should shut your fucking mouth

19 notes · View notes

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Text

NEW LIBRARY MATERIAL September 2020 - February 2021

Bibliography

Sorted by Call Number / Author.

011.7 F

Fadiman, Clifton, 1904-1999. The new lifetime reading plan / : the classical guide to world literature, Revised and expanded. 4th ed. New York : HarperCollins Publishers, 1999, c1997.

155.2 G

Gladwell, Malcolm, 1963-. David and Goliath : underdogs, misfits, and the art of battling giants. First edition. Goliath : "Am I a dog that you should come to me with sticks?" -- The Advantages of Disadvantages (and the Disadvantages of Advantages). Vivek Ranadiv©♭: "It was really random. I mean, my father had never played basketball before." ; Teresa DeBrito: "My largest class was twenty-nine kids. Oh, it was fun." ; Caroline Sacks: "If I'd gone to the University of Maryland, I'd still be in science. -- The Theory of Desirable Difficulty. David Boies: You wouldn't wish dyslexia on your child. Or would you? ; Emil "Jay" Freireich: "How Jay did it, I don't know." ; Wyatt Walker: "De rabbit is de slickest o' all de animals de Lawd ever made." -- The Limits of Power. Rosemary Lawlor: "I wasn't born that way. This was forced upon me." ; Wilma Derksen: "We have all done something dreadful in our lives, or have felt the urge to." ; Andr©♭ Trocm©♭: "We feel obliged to tell you that there are among us a certain number of Jews.". This book uncovers the hidden rules that shape the balance between the weak and the mighty and the powerful and the dispossessed. In it the author challenges how we think about obstacles and disadvantages, offering a new interpretation of what it means to be discriminated against, or cope with a disability, or lose a parent, or attend a mediocre school, or suffer from any number of other apparent setbacks. He begins with the real story of what happened between the giant and the shepherd boy (David and Goliath) those many years ago. From there, the book examines Northern Ireland's Troubles, the minds of cancer researchers and civil rights leaders, murder and the high costs of revenge, and the dynamics of successful and unsuccessful classrooms, all to demonstrate how much of what is beautiful and important in the world arises from what looks like suffering and adversity. -- From book jacket.

170 H

Haidt, Jonathan, author. The happiness hypothesis : finding modern truth in ancient wisdom. Paperback edition. "The Happiness Hypothesis is a book about ten Great Ideas. Each chapter is an attempt to savor one idea that has been discovered by several of the world's civilizations--to question it in light of what we now know from scientific research, and to extract from it the lessons that still apply to our modern lives and illuminate the causes of human flourishing. Award-winning psychologist Jonathan Haidt shows how a deeper understanding of the world's philosophical wisdom and its enduring maxims--like "do unto others as you would have others do unto you," or "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger"--can enrich and even transform our lives."--Back cover.

171 K

Kohn, Alfie. The brighter side of human nature : altruism and empathy in everyday life. New York : Basic Books, c1990.

305.5 W

Wilkerson, Isabel, author. Caste : the origins of our discontents. First edition. The man in the crowd -- Toxins in the permafrost and heat rising all around -- The arbitrary construction of human divisions -- The eight pillars of caste -- The tentacles of caste -- The consequences of caste -- Backlash -- Awakening -- Epilogue: A world without caste. "In this brilliant book, Isabel Wilkerson gives us a masterful portrait of an unseen phenomenon in America as she explores, through an immersive, deeply researched narrative and stories about real people, how America today and throughout its history has been shaped by a hidden caste system, a rigid hierarchy of human rankings. Beyond race, class, or other factors, there is a powerful caste system that influences people's lives and behavior and the nation's fate. Linking the caste systems of America, India, and Nazi Germany, Wilkerson explores eight pillars that underlie caste systems across civilizations, including divine will, bloodlines, stigma, and more. Using riveting stories about people--including Martin Luther King, Jr., baseball's Satchel Paige, a single father and his toddler son, Wilkerson herself, and many others--she shows the ways that the insidious undertow of caste is experienced every day. She documents how the Nazis studied the racial systems in America to plan their out-cast of the Jews; she discusses why the cruel logic of caste requires that there be a bottom rung for those in the middle to measure themselves against; she writes about the surprising health costs of caste, in depression and life expectancy, and the effects of this hierarchy on our culture and politics. Finally, she points forward to ways America can move beyond the artificial and destructive separations of human divisions, toward hope in our common humanity. Beautifully written, original, and revealing, Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents is an eye-opening story of people and history, and a reexamination of what lies under the surface of ordinary lives and of America life today."--.

305.8 W

Williamson, Joel. A rage for order : Black/White relations in the American South since emancipation. New York, NY : Oxford University Press, 1968. Full ed.: published as The crucible of race. 1984. Traces the history of race relations, examines changing public attitudes, and tells the stories of those involved in Civil Rights movement.

305.9 P

Pipher, Mary Bray. The middle of everywhere : the world's refugees come to our town. First edition. Cultural collisions on the Great Plains -- The beautiful laughing sisters-an arrival story -- Into the heart of the heartland -- All that glitters ... -- Children of hope, children of tears -- Teenagers--Mohammed meets Madonna -- Young adults--"Is there a marriage broker in Lincoln?"-- Family--"A bundle of sticks cannot be broken" -- African stories -- Healing in all times and places -- Home-a global positioning system for identity -- Building a village of kindness. Offers the tales of refugees who have escaped countries riddled by conflict and ripped apart by war to realize their dream of starting a new life in America, detailing their triumph over adversity.

306.4 P

Pollan, Michael. The botany of desire : a plant's-eye view of the world. Random House trade pbk. ed. New York : Random House, 2002. Desire : sweetness, plant : the apple (Malus domestica) -- Desire : beauty, plant : the tulip (Tulipa) -- Desire : intoxication, plant : marijuana (Cannabis sativa x indica) -- Desire : control, plant : the potato (Solanum tuberosum). Focusing on the human relationship with plants, the author of Second nature uses botany to explore four basic human desires, sweetness, beauty, intoxication, and control, through portraits of four plants that embody them, the apple, tulip, marijuana, and potato. Every school child learns about the mutually beneficial dance of honeybees and flowers; the bee collects nectar and pollen to make honey and, in the process, spreads the flowers' genes far and wide. In The botany of desire, Michael Pollan ingeniously demonstrates how people and domesticated plants have formed a similarly reciprocal relationship. In telling the stories of four familiar species that are deeply woven into the fabric of our lives, Pollan illustrates how the plants have evolved to satisfy humankind's most basic yearnings. And just as we've benefited from these plants, the plants have done well by us. So who is really domesticating whom?.

307.1 I

Immerwahr, Daniel, 1980-. Thinking small : the United States and the lure of community development. First Harvard University Press paperback edition 2018. Cambridge, MA : Harvard University Press, 2015. Preface: Modernization, development, and community -- Introduction: Actually existing localism -- When small was big -- Development without modernization -- Peasantville -- Grassroots empire -- Urban villages -- Epilogue: What is dead and what is undead in community development?.

323.60973 I

In the hands of the people : Thomas Jefferson on equality, faith, freedom, compromise, and the art of citizenship. First edition. New York, NY : Random House, 2020. "Thomas Jefferson believed in the covenant between a government and its citizens, in both the government's responsibilities to its people and also the people's responsibility to the republic. In this illuminating collection, a project of the Thomas Jefferson Foundation, #1 New York Times bestselling author Jon Meacham has gathered Jefferson's most powerful and provocative reflections on the subject, drawn from public speeches and documents as well as his private correspondence. Still relevant centuries later, Jefferson's words provide a manual for U.S. citizenship in the twenty-first century. His thoughts will re-shape and revitalize the way readers relate to concepts including Freedom: "Divided we stand, united we fall." The importance of a free press:"Were it left to me to decide whether we should have a government without newspapers, or newspapers without a government, I should not hesitate a moment to prefer the latter." Public education: "Enlighten the public generally, and tyranny and oppressions of body & mind will vanish like evil spirits at the dawn of day." Participation in government: A citizen should be "a participator in the government of affairs not merely at an election, one day in the year, but every day.""-- Provided by publisher.

324.6 P

Terborg-Penn, Rosalyn. African American women in the struggle for the vote, 1850-1920. Bloomington : Indiana University Press, c1998. Revisiting the question of race in the woman suffrage movement -- African American women in the first generation of woman suffragists : 1850-1869 -- African American woman suffragists finding their own voices : 1870s and 1880s -- Suffrage strategies and ideas : African American women leaders respond during "the nadir" -- Mobilizing to win the vote : African American women's organizations -- Anti-black woman suffrage tactics and African American women's responses -- African American women as voters and candidates -- The nineteenth amendment and its meaning for African American women. This study of African American women's roles in the suffrage movement breaks new ground. Rosalyn Terborg-Penn draws from many original documents to take a comprehensive look at the African American women who sought the right to vote. She discovers numerous Black suffragists previously unknown. Analyzing the women's own stories, she examines why they joined the woman suffrage movement in the United States and how they participated in it - with white women, Black men, as members of African American women's organizations, or simultaneously in all three. Terborg-Penn further discusses their various levels of interaction and types of feminist philosophy. Noting that not all African American woman suffragists were from elite circles, Terborg-Penn finds representation from working-class and professional women as well.They came from all parts of the nation. Some employed radical, others conservative means to gain the right to vote. Black women, however, were unified in working to use the ballot to improve not only their own status, but the lives of Black people in their communities. Drawing from innumerable sources, Terborg-Penn argues that sexism and racism prevented African American women from voting and from full participation in the national suffrage movement. Following the ratification of the Nineteenth Amendment, state governments in the South, enacted policies which disfranchised African American women, with many white suffragists closing their eyes to the discriminatory acts. Despite efforts to keep Black women politically powerless, Terborg-Penn contends that the Black suffrage was a source of empowerment. Every political and racial effort to keep African American women disfranchised met with their active resistance until Black women achieved full citizenship.

326.80922 B

Brands, H. W., author. The zealot and the emancipator : John Brown, Abraham Lincoln and the struggle for American freedom. First Edition. Pottawatomie -- Springfield -- Harpers Ferry -- The telegraph office. "What do moral people do when democracy countenances evil? The question, implicit in the idea that people can govern themselves, came to a head in America at the middle of the nineteenth century, in the struggle over slavery. John Brown's answer was violence--violence of a sort some in later generations would call terrorism. Brown was a deeply religious man who heard the God of the Old Testament speaking to him, telling him to do whatever was necessary to destroy slavery. When Congress opened Kansas territory to slavery, the eerily charismatic Brown raised a band of followers to wage war against the evil institution. One dark night his men tore several proslavery settlers from their homes and hacked them to death with broadswords, as a bloody warning to others. Three years later Brown and his men assaulted the federal arsenal at Harpers Ferry, Virginia, with the goal of furnishing slaves with weapons to murder their masters in a race war that would cleanse the nation of slavery once and for all. Abraham Lincoln's answer was politics. Lincoln was an ambitious lawyer and former office-holder who read the Bible not for moral guidance but as a writer's primer. He disliked slavery yet didn't consider it worth shedding blood over. He distanced himself from John Brown and joined the moderate wing of the new, antislavery Republican party. He spoke cautiously and dreamed big, plotting his path to Washington and perhaps the White House. Yet Lincoln's caution couldn't preserve him from the vortex of violence Brown set in motion. Arrested and sentenced to death, Brown comported himself with such conviction and dignity on the way to the gallows that he was canonized in the North as a martyr to liberty. Southerners responded in anger and horror that a terrorist was made into a saint. Lincoln shrewdly threaded the needle of the fracturing country and won election as president, still preaching moderation. But the time for moderation had passed. Slaveholders lumped Lincoln with Brown as an enemy of the Southern way of life; seven Southern states left the Union. Lincoln resisted secession, and the Civil War followed. At first a war for the Union, it became the war against slavery Brown had attempted to start. Before it was over, slavery had been destroyed, but so had Lincoln's faith that democracy can resolve its moral crises peacefully"--.

328.73 M

Meacham, Jon, author. His truth is marching on : John Lewis and the power of hope. First edition. Overture: the last march -- A hard life, a serious life -- The spirit of history -- Soul force -- In the image of God and democracy -- We are going to make you wish you was dead -- I'm going to die here -- This country don't run on love -- Epilogue: against the rulers of the darkness. "John Lewis, who at age twenty-five marched in Selma and was beaten on the Edmund Pettus Bridge, is a visionary and a man of faith. Using intimate interviews with Lewis and his family and deep research into the history of the civil rights movement, Meacham writes of how the activist and leader was inspired by the Bible, his mother's unbreakable spirit, his sharecropper father's tireless ambition, and his teachers in nonviolence, Reverend James Lawson and Martin Luther King, Jr. A believer in hope above all else, Lewis learned from a young age that nonviolence was not only a tactic but a philosophy, a biblical imperative, and a transforming reality. At the age of four, Lewis, ambitious to become a preacher, practiced by preaching to the chickens he took care of. When his mother cooked one of the chickens, the boy refused to eat it--his first act of non-violent protest. Integral to Lewis's commitment to bettering the nation was his faith in humanity and in God, and an unshakable belief in the power of hope. Meacham calls Lewis "as important to the founding of a modern and multiethnic twentieth- and twenty-first century America as Thomas Jefferson and James Madison and Samuel Adams were to the initial creation of the nation-state in the eighteenth century. He did what he did--risking limb and life to bear witness for the powerless in the face of the powerful--not in spite of America, but because of America, and not in spite of religion, but because of religion"--.

333.95 W

Wilson, Edward O. A window on eternity : a biologist's walk through Gorongosa National Park. First Simon & Schuster hardcover edition. Prologue: The Search for Eternity -- The Sacred Mountain of Mozambique -- Once There Were Giants -- War and Redemption -- Dung and Blood -- The Twenty-Foot Crocodile -- The Elephant Whisperer -- The House of Spiders -- The Clash of Insect Civilizations -- The Log of an Entomological Expedition -- The Struggle for Existence -- The Conservation of Eternity. "E.O. Wilson, one of the most celebrated scientists in the United States, shows why biodiversity is vital to the future of Earth and to our own species through the story of an African national park that may be the most diverse place on earth, in a gorgeously illustrated book"--. "The remarkable story of how one of the most biologically diverse habitats in the world was destroyed, restored, and continues to evolve--with stunning, full-color photographs by two of the world's best wildlife photographers. In 1976, Gorongosa National Park was the premier park in Mozambique, boasting one of the densest wildlife populations in all of Africa. Across 1,500 square miles of lush green floodplains, thick palm forests, swampy lakes, and vast plains roamed creatures great and small, from herds of wildebeest and elephant to countless bird species and insects yet to be classified. Then came the civil war of 1978-1992, when much of the ecosystem was destroyed, reducing some large animal populations by 90 percent or more. Due to a remarkable conservation effort sponsored by an American entrepreneur, the park was restored in the 1990s and is now evolving back to its former state. This is the story of that incredible transformation and why such biological diversity is so important. In A Window on Eternity, world-renowned biologist and two-time Pulitzer Prize-winner Edward O. Wilson shows why biodiversity is vital to the future of the Earth, including our human population. It is in places like Gorongosa in Africa, explains Wilson, that our own species evolved. Wilson takes readers to the forested groves of the park's watershed on sacred Mount Gorongosa, then far away to deep gorges along the edge of the Rift Valley, places previously unexplored by biologists, with the aim of discovering new species and assessing their ancient origins. He treats readers to a war between termites and raider ants, describes 'conversations' with elephant herds, and explains the importance of a one-day 'bioblitz.' Praised as 'one of the finest scientists writing today' (Los Angeles Times), Wilson uses the story of Gorongosa to show the significance of biodiversity to humankind"--.

340.092 S

Sligh, Clarissa T., artist. Transforming hate : an artist's book. First edition. "This book evolved from a project for which I folded origami cranes from pages of white supremacist books for the exhibition, Speaking Volumes: Transforming Hate ... I was trying to look at what it was like for me to turn hateful words into a beautiful art object. What actually evolved from that exploration helped me understand more fully the many levels of oppression and violence at the intersections of race, gender, class and sexual orientation." --inside front cover.

343.730 I

Internet law. Amenia, New York : Grey House Publishing, 2020.

345.73 C

Carter, Dan T. Scottsboro : a tragedy of the American South. Rev. ed. Fourth printing. Baton Rouge : Louisiana State University Press, 2007.

349.41 H

Honor©♭, Tony, 1921-2019. About law : an introduction. Reprint: 2013. Law -- History -- Government -- Property -- Contracts and treaties -- Crimes -- Torts -- Forms and procedures -- Interpretation -- Justice -- Does law matter? -- Glossary.

363.73 P

Pollution. New York, NY : Grey House Publishing, 2020.

371.102 A

Agarwal, Pooja K., author. Powerful teaching : unleash the science of learning. First edition. Introduction -- Discover the power behind power tools -- Build a foundation with retrieval practice -- Empower teaching with retrieval practice strategies -- Energize learning with spacing and interleaving -- Engage students with feedback-driven metacognition -- Combine power tools and harness your toolbox -- Keeping it real: use power tools to tackle challenges, not add to them -- Foster a supportive environment: use power tools to reduce anxiety and strengthen community -- Spark conversations with students about the science of learning -- Spark conversations with parents about the science of learning -- Powerful professional development for teachers and leaders -- Do-it-yourself retrieval guide -- Conclusion: unleash the science of learning.

512 G

Algebra. 2004. New York : Springer Science+Business Media, 2004.

575.1 A

Arney, Kat, author. How to code a human. Meet your genome -- Our genetic journey -- How do genes work? -- Under attack! -- Who do you think your are? -- People are not peas -- Genetic superheroes -- Turn me on -- Sticky notes -- The RNA world -- Building a baby -- Wiring the brain -- Compatibility genes -- X and Y -- The viruses that made us human -- When things go wrong -- Human 2.0. "How to Code a Human takes you on a mind-bending journey through the world of the double helix, revealing how our DNA encodes our genes and makes us unique. Covering all aspects of modern genetics from the evolution of our species to inherited diseases, "junk" DNA, genetic engineering and the intricacies of the molecular processes inside our cells, this is an astonishing and insightful guide to the code of life"--Back cover.

598 S

Sibley, David, 1961- author, illustrator. What it's like to be a bird : from flying to nesting, eating to singing -- what birds are doing, and why. How to use this book -- Introduction -- Portfolio of birds -- Birds in this book -- What to do if... -- Becoming a birder. Explore more than two hundred species, and more than 330 new illustrations by the author, in this special, large-format volume, where many of the primary illustrations are reproduced life-sized. While its focus is on familiar backyard birds -- blue jays, nuthatches, chickadees -- What It's Like to Be a Bird also examines certain species that can be fairly easily observed, such as the seashore-dwelling Atlantic Puffin. David Sibley's exacting artwork and wide-ranging expertise bring observed behaviors vividly to life. And while the text is aimed at adults -- including fascinating new scientific research on the myriad ways birds have adapted to environmental changes -- it is nontechnical, making it the perfect occasion for parents and grandparents to share their love of birds with young children, who will delight in the big, full-color illustrations of birds in action. -- back cover.

613.6 C

Bushcraft Illustrated: a visual guide. New York, NY : Simon & Schuster, Inc. (Adams Media: imprint of Simon & Schuster), 2019.

638.1 B

Michael Bush. The Practical beekeeper. Nehawka, Nebraska : X-Star Publishing Company, 2004-2011. V. 1 - The Practical Beekeeing Naturally; V.2 - Intermediate Beekeeping Naturally.

660.6 D

Druker, Steven M., author. Altered genes, twisted truth : how the venture to genetically engineer our food has subverted science, corrupted government, and systematically deceived the public.

709.2 A

Atalay, B©ơlent. Math and the Mona Lisa: : the art and science of Leonardo da Vinci. New York, NY : Smithsonian Books in association with HarperCollins Publishers, 2006. Leonardo was one of history's true geniuses, equally brilliant as an artist, scientist, and mathematician. Following Leonardo's own model, Atalay searches for the internal dynamics of art and science. He provides an overview of the development of science from the dawn of civilization to today's quantum mechanics. From this base, Atalay offers a view into Leonardo's restless intellect and modus operandi, allowing us to see the source of his ideas and to appreciate his art from a new perspective.

741.5 G

Greenberg, Isabel. The encyclopedia of early earth : a graphic novel. First American edition. Love in a very cold climate -- Part 1. The land of Nord. The three sisters of Summer Island ; Beyond the frozen sea ; The gods ; The odyssey begins -- Part 2. Britanitarka. Summer and winter ; Creation ; Medicine man ; The storytellers ; Creation ; Dag and Hal ; The old lady and the giant ; The time of the giants ; The children of the mountain ; The long night ; Dead towns & ghost men -- Part. 3. Migdal Bavel. Migdal Bavel ; The mapmaker of Migdal Bavel ; The bible of Birdman: Genesis ; Bible of Birdman, book of Kiddo: The great flood ; The tower of Migdal Bavel ; The palace of whispers ; The gods #2 -- Part 4. The South Pole. The gods #3 -- Appendices. A brief history of time ; The Nords ; Hunting and fishing ; The 1001 varieties of snow ; The invisible hunter ; Britanitarka ; Birds & beast from early Earth ; The moonstone ; The plucked firebird of Hoo. "Chronicles the explorations of a young man as he paddles from his home in the North Pole to the South Pole. There, he meets his true love, but their romance is ill-fated. Early Earth's unusual and finicky polarity means the lovers can never touch"--Publisher's website.

808.1 G

How poetry can change your heart. San Francisco, CA : Chronicle Books, 2019.

808.5 E

Franklin, Sharon. Essentials of speech communication. Evanston, Ill. : McDougal Littell, 2001.

808.53 H

Hanson, Jim. NTC's dictionary of debate. Lincolnwood, Ill., USA : National Textbook Co., c1990.

808.53 W

Strategic debate. Textbook. Columbus, OH : Glencoe/McGraw-Hill, 2006.

810.8 B

Lepucki, Edan, author. The best American nonrequired reading 2019. This anthology presents a selection of short works from mainstream and alternative American periodicals published in 2019, including nonfiction, screenplays, television writing, fiction, and alternative comics.

815 R

Representative American speeches, 2019-2020. Amenia, New York : Grey House, Publishing, 2020. "Selected from a diverse field of speakers and venues, this volume offers some of the most engaging American speeches of the year. Distinguished by its diversity, covering areas in politics, education, popular culture, as well as trending topics in the news, these speeches provide an interesting format to explore some of the year's most important stories."-Publisher.

909.09 D

Davis, Jack E., 1956- author. The Gulf : the making of an American sea. First edition. Prologue : history, nature, and a forgotten sea -- Introduction : birth -- Part one. Estuaries, and the lie of the land and sea : aborigines and colonizing Europeans. Mounds -- El golfo de M©♭xico -- Unnecessary death -- A most important river, and a "magnificent" bay -- Part two. Sea and sky : American debuts in the nineteenth century. Manifest destiny -- A fishy sea -- The wild fish that tamed the coast -- Birds of a feather, shot together -- Part three. Preludes to the future. From bayside to beachside -- Oil and the Texas toe dip -- Oil and the Louisiana plunge -- Islands, shifting sands of time -- Wind and water -- Part four. Saturation and loss : post-1945. The growth coast -- Florida worry, Texas slurry -- Rivers of stuff -- Runoff, and runaway -- Sand in the hourglass -- Losing the edge -- Epilogue : a success story amid so much else. Significant beyond tragic oil spills and hurricanes, the Gulf has historically been one of the world's most bounteous marine environments, supporting human life for millennia. Based on the premise that nature lies at the center of human existence, Davis takes readers on a compelling and, at times, wrenching journey from the Florida Keys to the Texas Rio Grande, along marshy shorelines and majestic estuarine bays, both beautiful and life-giving, though fated to exploitation by esurient oil men and real-estate developers. Davis shares previously untold stories, parading a vast array of historical characters past our view: sports-fishermen, presidents, Hollywood executives, New England fishers, the Tabasco king, a Texas shrimper, and a New York architect who caught the "big one". Sensitive to the imminent effects of climate change, and to the difficult task of rectifying the assaults of recent centuries, this book suggests how a penetrating examination of a single region's history can inform the country's path ahead. --.

910.92 I

Inskeep, Steve, author. Imperfect union : how Jessie and John Fr©♭mont mapped the West, invented celebrity, and helped cause the Civil War. Aid me with your influence -- The equal merits of differing peoples -- The current of important events -- Miseries that attend a separation -- I determined to make there a home -- The manifest purpose of providence -- A taste for danger and bold daring adventure -- The Spaniards were somewhat rude and inhospitable -- I am not going to let you write anything but your name -- Do not suppose I lightly interfere in a matter belonging to men -- We pressed onward with fatal resolution -- Jessie Benton Fr©♭mont was the better man of the two -- We thought money might come in handy -- All the stupid laurels that ever grew -- Decidedly, this ought to be struck out -- He throws away his heart. "Steve Inskeep tells the riveting story of John and Jessie Fr©♭mont, the husband and wife team who in the 1800s were instrumental in the westward expansion of the United States, and thus became America's first great political couple John Fr©♭mont grew up amid family tragedy and shame. Born out of wedlock in 1813, he went to work at age thirteen to help support his family in Charleston, South Carolina. He was a nobody. Yet, by the 1840s, he rose to become one of the most acclaimed people of the age -- known as a wilderness explorer, bestselling writer, gallant army officer, and latter-day conquistador, who in 1846 began the United States' takeover of California from Mexico. He was a celebrity who personified the country's westward expansion. Mountains, towns, ships, and streets were named after him. How did he climb so far? A vital factor was his wife, Jessie Benton Fr©♭mont, the daughter of a powerful United States senator. Jessie wanted to play roles in politics and exploration, which were then reserved for men. Frustrated, she threw her skill and passion into promoting her husband. Ordered by the US Army to map the Oregon Trail, John traveled thousands of miles on horseback, indifferent to his safety and that of the other members of his expeditions. When he returned home, Jessie helped him to shape dramatic reports of his adventures, which were reprinted in newspapers and bound as popular books. Jessie became his political adviser, and a power player in her own right. In 1856, the famous couple strategized as John became the first-ever presidential nominee of the newly established Republican Party. The party had been founded in opposition to slavery, and though both Fr©♭monts were Southerners they became symbols of the cause. With rare detail and in consummate style, Steve Inskeep tells the story of a couple whose joint ambitions and talents intertwined with those of the nascent United States itself. Americans linked the Fr©♭monts with not one but three great social movements of the time -- westward settlement, women's rights, and opposition to slavery. Theirs is a surprisingly modern story of ambition and fame; they lived in a time of globalization, technological disruption, and divisive politics that foreshadowed our own. The Fr©♭monts' adventures amount to nothing less than a tour of the early American soul"--.

940.54 S

Sledge, E. B. (Eugene Bondurant), 1923-. China marine. Oxford University Paperback, 2003. Tuscaloosa : University of Alabama Press, c2002. China Marine 1 -- Epilogue: I Am Not the Man I Would Have Been 149.

940.54 T

Terkel, Studs, 1912-2008. "The good war" : an oral history of World War Two. New York : New Press, [1997.

943.36 H

Hunt, Irmgard A. (Irmgard Albine), 1934-. On Hitler's mountain : overcoming the legacy of a Nazi childhood. First Harper Perennial edition. 2006. On writing a childhood memoir -- pt. 1. 1906-1934 : the P©œhlmanns. Roots of discontent ; In search of a future -- pt. 2. 1934-1939 : Hitler's willing followers. The rituals of life ; "Heil Hitler" ; Ominous undercurrents ; Meeting Hitler ; Gathering clouds -- pt. 3. 1939-1945 : war and surrender. Early sacrifice ; Learning to hate school ; Lessons from a wartime friendship ; A weary interlude in Selb ; Hardship and disintegration ; War comes to Berchtesgaden ; The end at last -- pt. 4. 1945-1948 : Bitter justice, or, Will justice be done? Survival under the Star-spangled Banner ; The curse of the past ; Escape from darkness. The author provides an account of her life growing up in Berchtesgaden, a Bavarian village at the foot of Hitler's mountain retreat, discussing a childhood encounter with the Nazi leader, and shedding light on why ordinary Germans, including her parents, tolerated and even supported the Nazis.

951.04 M

Mitter, Rana, 1969- author. Forgotten ally : China's World War II, 1937-1945. First U.S. Edition. The path to war: As close as lips and teeth : China's fall, Japan's rise ; A new revolution ; The path to confrontation -- Disaster: Thirty-seven days in summer : the outbreak of war ; The battle for Shanghai ; Refugees and resistance ; Massacre at Nanjing ; The battle of Taierzhuang ; The deadly river -- Resisting alone: "A sort of wartime normal" ; Flight into the unknown ; The road to Pearl Harbor -- The poisoned alliance ; Destination Burma ; Hunger in Henan ; States of terror ; Conference at Cairo ; One war, two fronts ; Showdown with Stilwell ; Unexpected victory ; Epilogue: The enduring war. "For decades, a major piece of World War II history has gone virtually unwritten. China was the fourth great ally, partner to the United States, the Soviet Union, and Great Britain, yet its drama of invasion, resistance, slaughter, and political intrigue remains little known in the West. In this emotionally gripping book, made possible through access to newly unsealed Chinese archives, Rana Mitter unfurls the story of China's World War II as never before and rewrites the larger history of the war in the process. He focuses his narrative on three towering leaders -- Chiang Kai-shek, Mao Zedong, and the lesser-known collaborator Wang Jingwei -- and extends the timeline of the war back to 1937, when Japanese and Chinese troops began to clash, fully two years before Hitler invaded Poland. Unparalleled in its research and scope, Forgotten Ally is a sweeping, character-driven history that will be essential reading not only for anyone with an interest in World War II, but also for those seeking to understand today's China, where, as Mitter reveals, the echoes of the war still reverberate"--.

952 J

Takada, Noriko. The Japanese way : aspects of behavior, attitudes, and customs of the Japanese. 2nd ed. Chicago : McGraw-Hill, c2011 . Abbreviations and contractions -- Addresses and street names -- Arts and crafts -- Asking directions -- Bathing and bathhouses -- Body language and gestures -- Borrowed words and acronyms -- Bowing -- Brand names and brand-name goods (burando-hin) -- Business cards (meish) -- Calendar -- Cherry blossoms and flower viewing -- Compliments -- Conversation -- Crime and safety -- Dating and marriage -- Death, funerals, and mourning -- Dialects -- Dining out -- Dinner invitations -- Directness -- Discussion and consensus -- Dress -- Drinking -- Driving -- Earthquakes -- Education -- English-language study -- Family -- The Jag and the national anthem -- Flowers and plants -- Food and eating -- Footwear -- Foreigners -- Gender roles -- Geography -- Gifts -- Government -- Hellos and good-byes -- Holidays and festivals -- Honorific speech (keigo) -- Hotels and inns -- Housing and furnishings -- Humor -- The Imperial family -- Individuals and couples -- Introductions and networking -- Karaoke -- Leisure (rgli) -- Letters, greeting cards, and postal services -- Love and affection -- Lucky and unlucky numbers -- Male/female speech -- Money -- Mt. Fuji -- Music and dance -- Myths, legends, and folklore -- Names, titles, and forms of address -- Numbers and counting -- Oriental medicine -- Pinball (pachinko) -- Politeness and rudeness -- Population -- Privacy -- Reading material -- Religion -- The seasons -- Shopping -- Shrines and temples -- Signatures and seals -- Social structure -- Sports -- Table etiquette -- Telephones -- Television/radio/movies -- Thank-yous and regrets -- Theater -- Time and punctuality -- Tipping and service charges -- Toilets -- Travel within Japan -- Vending machines -- Visiting private homes -- Weights, measures, and sizes -- Working hours -- The written language -- "Yes" and "no" -- "You first" -- Zoological calendar.

972.81 P

Proskouriakoff, Tatiana, 1909-1985. Maya history. First edition. Foreword / Gordon R. Wills -- Tatiana Proskouriakoff, 1909-1985 / Ian Graham -- Introduction / Rosemary A. Joyce -- 1. The Earliest Records: (A.D. 288-337) -- 2. The Arrival of Strangers: (A.D. 337-386) -- 3. The Maya Regain Tikal: (A.D. 386-435) -- 4. Some Ragged Pages: (A.D. 435-485) -- 5. Expansion of the Maya Tradition: (A.D. 485-534) -- 6. A Time of Troubles: (A.D. 534-583) -- 7. Recovery on the Frontiers: (A.D. 583-633) -- 8. Growth and Expansion: (A.D. 633-682) -- 9. Toward a Peak of Prosperity: (A.D. 682-736) -- 10. On the Crest of the Wave: (A.D. 731-780) -- 11. Prelude to Disaster: (A.D. 780-830) -- 12. The Final Years: (A.D. 831-909) -- 13. The Last Survivals: (A.D. 909-938). The ruins of Maya city-states occur throughout the Yucatan peninsula, Guatemala, Belize, and in parts of Honduras and El Salvador. But the people who built these sites remain imperfectly known. Though they covered standing monuments (stelae) and public buildings with hieroglyphic records of their deeds, no Rosetta Stone has yet turned up in Central America to help experts determine the exact meaning of these glyphs. Tatiana Proskouriakoff, a preeminent student of the Maya, made many breakthroughs in deciphering Maya writing, particularly in demonstrating that the glyphs record the deeds of actual human beings. This discovery opened the way for a history of the Maya, a monumental task that Proskouriakoff was engaged in before her death in 1985. Her work, Maya History, has been made ready for press by the able editorship of Rosemary Joyce. Maya History reconstructs the Classic Maya period (roughly A.D. 250-900) from the glyphic record on stelae at numerous sites, including Altar de Sacrificios, Copan, Dos Pilas, Naranjo, Piedras Negras, Quirigua, Tikal, and Yaxchilan. Proskouriakoff traces the spread of governmental institutions from the central Peten, especially from Tikal, to other city-states by conquest and intermarriage. And she also shows how the gradual introduction of foreign elements into Maya art mirrors the entry of outsiders who helped provoke the eventual collapse of the Classic Maya. Fourteen line drawings of monuments and over three hundred original drawings of glyphs amplify the text. Maya History has been long awaited by scholars in the field. It is sure to provoke lively debate and greater understanding of this important area in Mesoamerican studies.

973.04 A

Asian Americans : the movement and the moment. A wide-ranging collection of essays and material which documents the rich, little-known history of Asian American social activism during the years 1965-2001. This book examines the period not only through personal accounts and historical analysis, but through the visual record--utilizing historical prictorial materials developed at UCLA's Asian American Studies Center on Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Filipino, and Vietnamese Americans. Included are many reproductions of photos of the period, movement comics, demonstration flyers, newsletters, posters and much more.

973.0496 D

W.E.B. DuBois. The Souls of Black Folk. BIGFONTBOOKS.COM.

973.7 B

Barney, William L. Battleground for the Union : the era of the Civil War and Reconstruction, 1848-1877. Englewood Cliffs, N.J. : Prentice Hall, c1990.

973.9 I

Imani, Blair, author. Making our way home : the Great Migration and the Black American dream. First edition. Separate but equal: Reconstruction-1919 -- Beautiful -- and ugly, too: 1920-1929 -- I, too, am America: 1930-1939 -- Liberty and justice for all: 1940-1949 -- Trouble ahead: 1950-1959 -- The time is in the street, you know: 1960-1969 -- All poer to all the people: 1970-1979. "A powerful illustrated history of the Great Migration and its sweeping impact on Black and American culture, from Reconstruction to the rise of hip hop. Over the course of six decades, an unprecedented wave of Black Americans left the South and spread across the nation in search of a better life--a migration that sparked stunning demographic and cultural changes in twentieth-century America. Through gripping and accessible historical narrative paired with illustrations, author and activist Blair Imani examines the largely overlooked impact of The Great Migration and how it affected--and continues to affect--Black identity and America as a whole. Making Our Way Home explores issues like voting rights, domestic terrorism, discrimination, and segregation alongside the flourishing of arts and culture, activism, and civil rights. Imani shows how these influences shaped America's workforce and wealth distribution by featuring the stories of notable people and events, relevant data, and family histories. The experiences of prominent figures such as James Baldwin, Fannie Lou Hamer, El Hajj Malik El Shabazz (Malcolm X), Ella Baker, and others are woven into the larger historical and cultural narratives of the Great Migration to create a truly singular record of this powerful journey"--.

973.9 L

Longley, Kyle, author. LBJ's 1968 : power, politics, and the presidency in America's year of upheaval. A nation on the brink: the State of the Union Address, January 1968 -- Those dirty bastards, are they trying to embarrass us? The Pueblo Incident, January-December 1968 -- Tet: a very near thing, January-March 1968 -- As a result, I will not seek re-election: the March 31, 1968 speech -- The days the earth stood still: the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr., April 1968 -- He hated him, but loved him: the assassination of Robert Kennedy, June 1968 -- The big stumble: the Fortas Affair, June-October 1968 -- The tanks are rolling: Czechoslovakia crushed, August 1968 -- The perfect disaster: the Democratic National Convention, August 1968 -- Is this treason?: the October surprise that wasn't, October-December 1968 -- The last dance, January 1969 -- Conclusion.

974.7 F

Feldman, Deborah, 1986-. Unorthodox : the scandalous rejection of my Hasidic roots. 1st Simon & Schuster trade pbk. ed. 2020. New York : Simon & Schuster Paperbacks, 2012. Traces the author's upbringing in a Hasidic community in Brooklyn, describing the strict rules that governed her life, arranged marriage at the age of seventeen, and the birth of her son, which led to her plan to leave and forge her own path in life.

975.7 B

Ball, Edward, 1959-. Slaves in the family. Paperback edition. Journalist Ball confronts the legacy of his family's slave-owning past, uncovering the story of the people, both black and white, who lived and worked on the Balls' South Carolina plantations. It is an unprecedented family record that reveals how the painful legacy of slavery continues to endure in America's collective memory and experience. Ball, a descendant of one of the largest slave-owning families in the South, discovered that his ancestors owned 25 plantations, worked by nearly 4,000 slaves. Through meticulous research and by interviewing scattered relatives, Ball contacted some 100,000 African-Americans who are all descendants of Ball slaves. In intimate conversations with them, he garnered information, hard words, and devastating family stories of precisely what it means to be enslaved. He found that the family plantation owners were far from benevolent patriarchs; instead there is a dark history of exploitation, interbreeding, and extreme violence.--From publisher description.

975.7 B

Ball, Edward, 1959-. The sweet hell inside : a family history. First edition. Preface -- Part 1-The Master and His Orphans-Part 2-High Yellow-Porch 3 -Eyes Sadder Then the Grave-Part 4-Nigger Rich-Part 5-The Orphans Dancers-Part 6-A Trunk in the Grass-Notes-Permission and Photography Credits-Acknowledgments-Index. If. Recounts the lives of the Harleston family of South Carolina, the progeny of a Southern gentleman and his slave who cast off their blemished roots and achieved affluence in part through a surprisingly successful funeral parlor business. Their wealth afforded the Harlestons the comfort of chauffeurs, tailored clothes, and servants whose skin was darker than theirs. It also launched the family into a generation of glory as painters, performers, and photographers in the "high yellow" society of America's colored upper class. The Harlestons' remarkable 100-year journey spans the waning days of Reconstruction, the precious art world of the early 1900s, the back alleys of the Jazz Age, and the dawn of the civil rights movement.--From publisher description.

DVD Gre

The Great debaters. 2-disc collector's edition; Widescreen [ed.]. [New York] : Weinstein Company, c2008. Denzel Washington, Nate Parker, Jurnee Smollett, Denzel Whitaker, Jermaine Williams, Forest Whitaker, Gina Ravera, John Heard, Kimberly Elise, Devyn Tyler, Trenton McClain Boyd. Melvin B. Tolson is a professor at Wiley College in Texas. Wiley is a small African-American college. In 1935, Tolson inspired students to form the school's first debate team. Tolson turns a group of underdog students into a historically elite debate team which goes on to challenge Harvard in the national championship. Inspired by a true story.

F Alb

Albertalli, Becky, author. What if it's us. Told in two voices, when Arthur, a summer intern from Georgia, and Ben, a native New Yorker, meet it seems like fate, but after three attempts at dating fail they wonder if the universe is pushing them together or apart.

F Arc

Astral Traveler's Daughter. First Simon & Schuster Trade Paperback edition, April 2019. New York, NY : Simon & Schuster, Inc, 2019. "Last year, Teddy Cannon discovered she was psychic. This year, her skills will be put to the test as she investigates a secretive case that will take her far from home--and deep into the past in the thrilling follow-up to School for Psychics"-- Provided by publisher.

F Chi

Chiaverini, Jennifer, author. Enchantress of numbers : a novel of Ada Lovelace. "The only legitimate child of Lord Byron, the most brilliant, revered, and scandalous of the Romantic poets, Ada was destined for fame long before her birth. Estranged from Ada's father, who was infamously "mad, bad, and dangerous to know," Ada's mathematician mother is determined to save her only child from her perilous Byron heritage. Banishing fairy tales and make-believe from the nursery, Ada's mother provides her daughter with a rigorous education grounded in mathematics and science. Any troubling spark of imagination--or worse yet, passion or poetry--is promptly extinguished. Or so her mother believes. When Ada is introduced into London society as a highly eligible young heiress, she at last discovers the intellectual and social circles she has craved all her life. Little does she realize that her delightful new friendship with inventor Charles Babbage--brilliant, charming, and occasionally curmudgeonly--will shape her destiny ..."--Jacket.

F Chr

Christie, Michael, 1976- author. Greenwood : a novel. First U.S. edition. "It's 2038 and Jake Greenwood is a storyteller and a liar, an overqualified tour guide babysitting ultra-rich vacationers in one of the world's last remaining forests. It's 2008 and Liam Greenwood is a carpenter, fallen from a ladder and sprawled on his broken back, calling out from the concrete floor of an empty mansion. It's 1974 and Willow Greenwood is out of jail, free after being locked up for one of her endless series of environmental protests: attempts at atonement for the sins of her father's once vast and violent timber empire. It's 1934 and Everett Greenwood is alone, as usual, in his maple syrup camp squat when he hears the cries of an abandoned infant and gets tangled up in the web of a crime that will cling to his family for decades. And throughout, there are trees: thrumming a steady, silent pulse beneath Christie's effortless sentences and working as a guiding metaphor for withering, weathering, and survival. A shining, intricate clockwork of a novel, Greenwood is a rain-soaked and sun-dappled story of the bonds and breaking points of money and love, wood and blood--and the hopeful, impossible task of growing toward the light"--.

F Cle

Memoirs of Fanny Hill. Published by arrangement with Edito-Service S. A., Geneva, Switzerland. New York, NY : Peebles Press International Inc, 1973.

F Col

Andre's Reboot. Birmingham, AL : Stephen B. Coleman, Publisher, 2019.

F Def

Moll Flanders. Reprint. 2020. Columbia, SC, : August 12, 2020.

F Def

Defoe, Daniel, 1661?-1731. The fortunes and misfortunes of the famous Moll Flanders ... A new edition.

F Fit

Fitzgerald, F. Scott (Francis Scott), 1896-1940, author. The great Gatsby. Foreword to the seventy-fifth anniversary edition: F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby, and the House of Scribner ; Preface / by Matthew J. Bruccoli -- THE GREAT GATSBY -- The text of The Great Gatsby / by Matthew J. Bruccoli -- Publisher's afterword / Charles Scribner III -- FSF : life and career / James L.W. West III. Overview: The mysterious Jay Gatsby embodies the American notion that it is possible to redefine oneself and persuade the world to accept that definition. Gatsby's youthful neighbor, Nick Carraway, fascinated with the display of enormous wealth in which Gatsby revels, finds himself swept up in the lavish lifestyle of Long Island society during the Jazz Age. Considered Fitzgerald's best work, The Great Gatsby is a mystical, timeless story of integrity and cruelty, vision and despair. The timeless story of Jay Gatsby and his love for Daisy Buchanan is widely acknowledged to be the closest thing to the Great American Novel ever written.

F Jam

The Turn of the Screw, the Aspern Papers, and Two Stories. Barnes & Noble Classics, 2003; Intro. and notes by David L. Sweet. New York, NY : Barnes & Noble, 2003.

F Ora

Orange, Tommy, 1982- author. There there. First Vintage books edition. Here is a story of several people, each of whom has private reasons for travelling to the Big Oakland Powwow. Jacquie Red Feather is newly sober and trying to make it back to the family she left behind in shame. Dene Oxendene is pulling his life together after his uncle's death and has come to work at the powwow to honour his uncle's memory. Opal Viola Victoria Bear Shield has come to watch her nephew Orvil Red Feather, who has taught himself traditional Indian dance through YouTube videos and has come to the powwow to dance in public for the very first time. There will be glorious communion, and a spectacle of sacred tradition and pageantry. And there will be sacrifice, and heroism, and unspeakable loss.

F Pat

Patchett, Ann, author. The Dutch house : a novel. First edition. "Ann Patchett, the New York Times bestselling author of Commonwealth and State of Wonder, returns with her most powerful novel to date: a richly moving story that explores the indelible bond between two siblings, the house of their childhood, and a past that will not let them go"--.

F Rob

Roberts, Nora, author. The awakening. First edition. "#1 New York Times bestselling author of the epic Chronicles of The One trilogy returns with the first in a brand new series where parallel worlds clash over the struggle between good and evil"--.

F Row

Rowling, J. K. Harrius Potter et philosophi lapis. Cover illustration first pub. 2015. London : Bloomsbury, 2003, ℗♭1997. Latin translation, Peter Needham, 2003. Rescued from the outrageous neglect of his aunt and uncle, a young boy with a great destiny proves his worth while attending Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry.

F Rus

Russell, Karen, 1981-. Swamplandia! 1st ed (Borzoi Book). New York : Alfred A. Knopf, 2011. Twelve year old Ava must travel into the Underworld part of the swamp in order to save her family's dynasty of Bigtree alligator wresting. This novel takes us to the swamps of the Florida Everglades, and introduces us to Ava Bigtree, an unforgettable young heroine. The Bigtree alligator wrestling dynasty is in decline, and Swamplandia!, their island home and gator wrestling theme park, formerly no. 1 in the region, is swiftly being encroached upon by a fearsome and sophisticated competitor called the World of Darkness. Ava's mother, the park's indomitable headliner, has just died; her sister, Ossie, has fallen in love with a spooky character known as the Dredgeman, who may or may not be an actual ghost; and her brilliant big brother, Kiwi, who dreams of becoming a scholar, has just defected to the World of Darkness in a last ditch effort to keep their family business from going under. Ava's father, affectionately known as Chief Bigtree, is AWOL; and that leaves Ava, a resourceful but terrified thirteen, to manage ninety eight gators as well as her own grief. Against a backdrop of hauntingly fecund plant life animated by ancient lizards and lawless hungers, the author has written a novel about a family's struggle to stay afloat in a world that is inexorably sinking.

F Sha

Shaw, Irwin, 1913-1984. The young lions. Chicago : University of Chicago Press, 2000.

F Tol

The Hobbit. 75th Anniversary. The text of this edition is based on edition published by HarperCollins Publishers in 1995. Bilbo Baggins, a respectable, well-to-do hobbit, lives comfortably in his hobbit-hole until the day the wandering wizard Gandalf chooses him to take part in an adventure from which he may never return.

F Tow

Towles, Amor. Rules of civility. A chance encounter with a handsome banker in a jazz bar on New Year's Eve 1938 catapults Wall Street secretary Katey Kontent into the upper echelons of New York society, where she befriends a shy multi-millionaire, an Upper East Side ne'er-do-well, and a single-minded widow.

F Wat

Watson, Ren©♭e, author. Piecing me together. Tired of being singled out at her mostly-white private school as someone who needs support, high school junior Jade would rather participate in the school's amazing Study Abroad program than join Women to Women, a mentorship program for at-risk girls. "Acclaimed author Renee Watson offers a powerful story about a girl striving for success in a world that too often seems like it's trying to break her. Jade believes she must get out of her poor neighborhood if she's ever going to succeed. Her mother tells her to take advantage of every opportunity that comes her way. And Jade has: every day she rides the bus away from her friends and to the private school where she feels like an outsider, but where she has plenty of opportunities. But some opportunities she doesn't really welcome, like an invitation to join Women to Women, a mentorship program for "at-risk" girls. Just because her mentor is black and graduated from the same high school doesn't mean she understands where Jade is coming from. She's tired of being singled out as someone who needs help, someone people want to fix. Jade wants to speak, to create, to express her joys and sorrows, her pain and her hope. Maybe there are some things she could show other women about understanding the world and finding ways to be real, to make a difference.".

F Wil

Williams, Katie, 1978- author. Tell the machine goodnight. Pearl's job is to make people happy. Every day, she provides customers with personalized recommendations for greater contentment. She's good at her job, her office manager tells her, successful. But how does one measure an emotion? Meanwhile, there's Pearl's teenage son, Rhett. A sensitive kid who has forged an unconventional path through adolescence, Rhett seems to find greater satisfaction in being unhappy. The very rejection of joy is his own kind of "pursuit of happiness." As his mother, Pearl wants nothing more than to help Rhett--but is it for his sake or for hers? Certainly it would make Pearl happier. Regardless, her son is one person whose emotional life does not fall under the parameters of her job--not as happiness technician, and not as mother, either.-Amazon.

SC D

The Daniel Defoe Collection : The Life and strange surprising adventures of Robinson Crusoe, of York, Mariner; The farther adventures of Robinson Crusoe; A journal of the plague year; Moll Flanders. South Carolina, USA, : August 2020.

SC L

Link, Kelly, author. Get in trouble : stories. Random House trade paperback edition. The summer people -- I can see right through you -- Secret identity -- Valley of the girls -- Origin story -- The lesson -- The new boyfriend -- Two houses -- Light. A collection of short stories features tales of a young girl who plays caretaker to mysterious guests at the cottage behind her house and a former teen idol who becomes involved in a bizarre reality show.

SC P

Packer, ZZ. Drinking coffee elsewhere. 1st Riverhead trade pbk. ed. New York : Riverhead Books, 2004, ℗♭2003. Brownies -- Every tongue shall confess -- Our Lady of Peace -- The ant of the self -- Drinking coffee elsewhere -- Speaking in tongues -- Geese -- Doris is coming. Discovered by The New Yorker, Packer "forms a constellation of young black experience"* whether she's writing from the perspective of a church-going black woman who has a crisis in faith, a young college student at Yale, or a young black man unwillingly accompanying his father to the Million Man March. This universally appealing collection of short fiction has already established ZZ Packer as "a writer to watch.".

SC S

Sedaris, David, author. Calypso. First edition. When he buys a beach house on the Carolina coast, David Sedaris envisions long, relaxing vacations spent playing board games and lounging in the sun with those he loves most. And life at the Sea Section, as he names the vacation home, is exactly as idyllic as he imagined, except for one tiny, vexing realization: it's impossible to take a vacation from yourself. Sedaris sets his powers of observation toward middle age and mortality, that vertiginous moment when your own body betrays you and you realize that the story of your life is made up of more past than future.

SC S

Sedaris, David, author. Let's explore diabetes with owls. First Back Bay paperback edition, June 2014. From the perils of French dentistry to the eating habits of the Australian kookaburra, from the squat-style toilets of Beijing to the particular wilderness of a North Carolina Costco, we learn about the absurdity and delight of a curious traveler's experiences. Whether railing against the habits of litterers in the English countryside or marveling over a disembodied human arm in a taxidermist's shop, Sedaris takes us on side-splitting adventures that are not to be forgotten.

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Pocket Guide to the Empire, First Edition: Cyrodiil

Cyrodilic history truly begins by the middle of the Alessian Reformation (see sidebar, Alessian Order), when civilisation and cultivation had allowed the region to emerge as a discernible Tamrielic power. Its culture and military strength centred in the sacred Nibenay Valley, a grassland expanse with a vast lake at its heart. Several small islands rose from this lake, and the capital city sprawled across them, crisscrossed with bridges and gondola ferries. Rivers connected the city-state to both its profitable outlying territories and the friendly inland ports of Skyrim and Pelletine. Rice and textiles were its main exports, along with more esoteric treasure-goods, such as hide armour, Moon sugar, and ancestor-silk. The sheer size of Cyrodiil's physical theatre, and frequent intervals of Elven tyranny, made its unification as a while a slow and oft-interrupted process. At the height of Alessian influence, its western arm enjoyed a brief autonomy as the Colovian Estates, a demarcation that still colours an outsider's view of the Empire today; often, Cyrodiil has two faces, East and West, and any discussion of its later social history must first be tempered with a summary of this early divergence.

Traditionally, the East is regarded as the region's soul: magnanimous, tolerant, and administrative. It was in the rain forests of the Nibenay Valley that the original Cyro-Nordic tribes, the Nibenese, learned a self-reliance that separated them culturally and economically from Skyrim. The Elven harassment of the First Empire gave rise to an elite form of support troop for the Valley armies, the battlemage.[1] By the time the Alessian Doctrines filtered down from the north along the river trade ways, these mages had become the ruling aristocracy. They were quickly superseded by the Alessian priesthood, whose inexplicably charismatic religion found purchase in the lower classes. The traditional Nordic pantheon of Eight Divines was replaced by a baroque of veneration of ancestor spirits and god-animals, practices encouraged by the mutable-yet-monotheistic doctrines of the Alessian faith. The doctrines eventually codified nearly every aspect of Eastern culture. Restrictions against certain kings of meat-eating, coupled with the sentiments of the blossoming animal cults, soon made agriculture and husbandry nearly impossible. Thus, many of the Eastern Cyrodiils were forced to become merchants, which, over time, allowed the Nibenay Valley to become the wealthiest city-state in the region. Yet, under Alessian rule, no matter how rich or powerful the merchant class became it was still a tenanted citizenry, and the tithes they were forced to pay the priesthood were constant reminders of the state's true masters.

The West is respected as Cyrodiil's iron hand: firm, unwavering, and ever-vigilant. The Cyro-Nords that settled it had relinquished the fertile Nibenay Valley long ago, determined to conquer the frontier. Their primitive ferocity was disinclined to magic or the need for industry, preferring bloody engagement and plunder instead. After they had captured the Nedic port-cities of the Strident coast, the Westerners embarked on a mastery of the sea. Their earliest voyages took them as far as the Iliac Bay and the Cape of the Blue Divide, whose ports they annually raided until the (then) superior Yokudan navies arrived, ca. 1E819. By the time of the Alessian Reformation, the Westerners were firmly in a position, both geographically and socially, to resist its doctrines. Hammerfell, its northern border state, was now protected by its own holy-avenging order, the Ra Gada, whose bloody intolerance for foreigners acted as West Cyrodiil's buffer against the Alessian priesthood. The pantheon of Eight Divines, therefore, survived unchecked in Western Cyrodiil, and relations with the increasingly Alessian East became strained. Ultimately, the West isolated itself from the theocratic hegemony of the Nibenay Valley, establishing an autonomous government, the Colovian Estates.

Things persisted in this vein until the Thrassian Plague of 1E2200 (see free Region - Thras), which decimated more than half of Tamriel's population, particularly the western coastlands closest to Thras. After Bendu Olo, the Colovian king of Anvil, led the All Flags Navy to victory over the slugfolk of Thras, the glory of the Cyrodilic people became known throughout the world. The Colovian Estates began to overshadow the richer, more populous East then, which eventually lead to the War of Righteousness that ended Alessian rule. Control of the Nibenay Valley reverted to a mercantile-magocracy that was still far too arcane for Western tastes to entertain a reunification of Cyrodiil. Four hundred years would pass before that would happen, when Reman I, another proud son of the West, rallied the Valley's army to join his own and fight the Akaviri Invasion of 1E2703. The Cyrodilic forces engaged the Akaviri in every region of the north, eliciting their surrender at last in the Pale Pass of Skyrim. By war's end, the Cyrodiils found themselves not only united as a nation, but, too, responsible for the further protection of the northern human kingdoms at large. When the Elves of the Summerset Isles took umbrage at what they perceived as a renewed human imperialism, Reman was forced to prove them right. In order to prevent the Elves from attacking[2] the already weakened northern kingdoms, he offered the captive Akaviri Horde amnesty in his future dominions if they would serve as the nucleus of the Army of the Second Empire of Men. Reman's own dynasty lasted for two hundred years, and in that span it conquered all the kingdoms of Tamriel except for Morrowind. Indeed, the Dark Elven Morag Tong were the doom of Reman's heirs, and the death of last true Cyrodilic Emperor heralded the beginning of the Common Era.

The Cyrodilic Empire endured for another four hundred years under the auspices of the Akaviri Potentate (see sidebar, The Second Empire), fell, and suffered a similar span of years in the insurrections, misrules, and loss of power known as the Interregnum. Yet, the remnants of the Cyrodilic Empire refuse to die, even though East and West had become fragmented beyond measure. A petty king of the Colovian Estates, Cuhlecain, came to power and appointed an Atmoran as General of his legions. General Talos had studied in Skyrim, and used the thu'um. He could rout armies with his battle-cry and shout lesser men off their feet. A year later more than half of the Cyrodilic Empire was reclaimed or consolidated, and Cuhlecain saw fit to move into the Nibenay Valley, capture the capital city, and proclaim himself Emperor. By this point, High Rock and Skyrim, which bitterly opposed a return to Cyrodilic rule, gathered their armies for a joint invasion of the Colovian West. Talos met them on the field of Sancre Tor. The Nords that had come to cripple the Empire soon joined the General's forces, for when they heard his thu'um they realised he was Skyrim's son and the Heir to the Empires of Men. The Bretons were sent back to High Rock with tales of Cuhlecain's new General, where they decided to combat the Emperor's sorcery with their own. In CE854, a nightblade from the Western Reach made his way to the Imperial Palace at Nibenay. There, the Witchman assassinated the emperor, caught the Palace on fire, and slit the throat of General Talos. "But from the smouldering ruin he came, one hand to his neck and with Cuhlecain's Crown in the other. The legions wept at the sight. His Northern magic had saved him, but the voice that led them would be more silent from that night on. His word could no longer rout an army with a roar, but he could still command one with a whisper. He took for himself a Cyrodilic name, Tiber Septim[3], and the Nordic Name of Kings, Ysmir, the Dragon of the North. And with those names he took, too, the Red Diamond Crown of the Cyrodiils, and became their True Emperor." Thus was born the Third Empire of Men.

Cyrodiil in the Third Empire is the young, viral embodiment of its ancient heritage. Internally, it has undergone an incredible restoration--reconstruction of the ruined sections of the Imperial City is nearly complete, roads and cities destroyed in the Interregnum have been rebuilt, East and West are unified for the first time in four centuries. Cyrodiil's present stability and strength have not been seen since the Reman Dynasty; indeed, they were born under similar circumstances--a Westerner winning the Eastern throne, forging them both into the greatest power in Tamriel. And now, in but twenty years time, Tiber Septim has secured Imperial authority in High Rock, Skyrim, and Hammerfell. Every human region stands with him against the Elven menace.[4] The Emperor has gracefully attributed his success to his peoples, the Colovians and the Nibenese, whose cultures we shall now treat in their current incarnation.

The Colovians[5] today still possess much of the frontier spirit of their ancestors. They are uncomplicated, self-sufficient, hearty, and extremely loyal to one another. Whenever the East would tremble under the weakness of a leader, the Colovians would withdraw unto themselves, always believing they were keeping the national spirit sage until the storm passed. They realise that the Nibenay Valley is the heart of the Empire and the cultural centre of its civilisation, but it is a fragile centre that can only be held together by the strength of character of its Emperor. When he falters, so do the Colovians. Yet when he is mighty, like Tiber Septim, they are his legions. Today, West Cyrodiils make up the majority of the soldiers in the Ruby Ranks. The Colovian nobility, all officers of the Imperial Legions or its West Navy, do not allow themselves the great expenditure of courtly life as is seen in the capital city. They prefer immaculate uniforms and stark standards hanging from the ceiling of their austere cliff-fortresses; to this day, they become a little perplexed[6] when they must visit the grandly decorated assault of colour that is the Emperor's Palace.

[TRAVELER: "Colovian officers have traditionally been appointed as provincial governors to the human regions of the Empire, as these often need the most forthright of the Emperor's men."]

By contrast, the Eastern people of Cyrodiil relish in garish costumes, bizarre tapestries, tattoos, brandings, and elaborate ceremony. Closer to the wellspring of civilisation, they are more given to philosophy and the evolution of ancient traditions. The Nibenese find the numinous in everything around them, and their different cults are too numerous to mention (the most famous are the Cult of the Ancestor-Moth, the Cult of Heroes, the Cult of Tiber Septim, and the Cult of Emperor Zero). To the Colovians, the ancestor worship and esoteric customs of the East can often be bizarre. Akaviri dragon-motifs are found in all quarters, from the high minaret bridges of the Imperial City to the paper hako skiffs that villagers use to wing their dead down the rivers. Thousands of workers ply the rice fields after the floodings, or clear the foliage of the surrounding jungle in the alternate seasons. Above them are the merchant-nobility, the temple priests and cult leaders, and the age-old aristocracy of the battlemages. The Emperor watches over them all from the towers of the Imperial City, as dragons circle overhead.

Alessian Order

This monotheistic religion was once very popular, but today only remnants of its faith remain. It started in the coastal jungle of what is now the Colovian west, where a prophet named Marukh, who had spoken to the "Enlightened One," Saint Alessia, began to question the validity of Elven rule. These sentiments led to an increasingly abstract and unknowable depiction of a Single God. The Alessians were wise enough to realise that they had to incorporate the ancient polytheistic elements into their new religion for it to find a wide acceptance. The divine aspects worshipped by the various humans and Aldmeri were recognisable in the guise of the myriad saints and spirits of the evolving Alessian canon. It wasn't long before the Order was the Authority on every religion in Tamriel, and their power grew to earthshaking proportions. Nearly a third of the First Era passed under their theocratic rule. When its priesthood had become too widespread to support itself, the Order began to fight among itself. With the severance of the territories of West Cyrodiil from the Empire, too much money and land had been lost. The War of Righteousness broke out, and the Order which had almost ruled the world undid itself in a ten year span.

The Second Empire

The Second Empire is divided into two stages: the Reman Dynasty and the Akaviri Potentate. As mentioned in the text, after the Akaviri raiders had been defeated, Reman recruited many of them into his service. Later Cyrodiils traditionally kept a House Guard of Akaviri, and the Emperor's chief advisor, the Potentate, was usually of Akaviri descent. Other Akaviri slaves played a significant part in establishing the administrative structures of the Second Empire, as well as in the training of its military. The restructured Imperial legions, which learned an unparalleled measure of coherence, logistics, and discipline from the Akaviri, began to easily overwhelm the other regional armies; soon every region in Tamriel belonged to Cyrodiil except for Morrowind. After the assassination of Reman's last heir by the Dark Elven Morag Tong during the disastrous Four Score War, control of the Empire reverted to the Akaviri Potentate. They have left a visible mark on the Empire of today. The high crafts of daikatanas and dragonscale armour came from the Akavir, as did the banners and military dress of Septim's shock troops, the Blades. The Red Dragons that have come to represent the Empire and the Imperial City were originally Akaviri war mounts. Akaviri surnames are rare and prized possessions among the Cyrodilic citizenry of today, and there are trace facial features of the Akaviri in many distinguished Cyrodilic families. Some colonies of "true Akaviri" still exist in both the Empire and its border regions, but they are named so only for their practices and customs than for the purity of their blood.

The Song of Tiber Septim[7]

From the Odes:

"He was born in Atmora as Talos, 'Stormcrown' in the language of the ancient Elhnofey, and it was from that shore he sailed. He spent his youth in Skyrim among the Nords. There he learned much from the Tongues and their chieftains and their ways of war. At twenty he led the invasion of Old Hrol'dan, taking it back from the Witchmen of High Rock and their kinsmen.

"Soon the Greybeards made known that they were restless. Already the storms had begun from their murmurs. The Greybeards were going to Speak. The surrounding villages were abandoned as the people fled the coming blast.

"The villagers warned Talos to turn back, for he was marching to the mountain where the Greybeards dwelt.

"Inside he went, and on seeing him they removed their gags. When they spoke his name the World shook.

"The Tongues of Skyrim told the son of Atmora that he had come to rule Tamriel and that he must travel south to do so.

"And it is true that Talos did come to Cyrodiil shortly after the Battle of Old Hrol'dan.

"And it is true that a great storm preceded his arrival."

The Cult of the Ancestor-Moth

For long the Cyro-Nordics had exported ancestor-silks to other regions, simple yet exotic shawls woven from the silks of an indigenous gypsy moth and inscribed with the requisite genealogy of its buyer. Under the Cult, however, ancestor and moth became synonymous: the singing and hymnal spirits of one's forebears are caught in a special silk-gathering ritual, the resource of which is used to create any manner of vestment or costume. The swishing of this material during normal movement reproduces the resplendent ancestral chorus contained therein--it quickly became a sacred custom among the early Nibenese, which has persisted to the present day. Monks of the higher orders of the Cult of the Ancestor-Moth are able to forego the magical ritual needed to enchant this fabric, and, indeed, prefer instead to wear the moths about the neck and face. They are able to attract the ancestor-moths through the application of finely ground bark-dust gathered from the gypsy moth's favourite tree, and through the sub-vocalisation of certain mantras. They must chant the mantras constantly to maintain skin contact with the ancestor-moths, a discipline that they endure for the sake of some cosmic balance. When a monk interrupts these mantras, in conversation for example, the moths burst from him in glorious fashion every time he speaks, only to light back upon his skin when he resumes the inaudible chant.

The Cult of Emperor Zero

This cult, started by Tiber Septim himself, was established in the honour of Cuhlecain, the Emperor Zero. Though Cuhlecain did not technically recapture all of Cyrodiil's holdings during this time, he is worthy of worship for the wisdom he showed in appointing Talos as his General, and the bravery he showed when retaking the Imperial City, two events that were crucial in restoring the glory of the new Cyrodilic Empire. He is therefore to be remembered in our prayers. The topiary-mages have begun to shape his aspect in the Palace gardens, where in the future Cuhlecain may share his insights with Tiber Septim in the same manner as the rest of the blessed hedgery heads of Green Emperor Road.

Places of Note

Indeed, if the history of the Nords is the history of humans on Tamriel, then Cyrodiil is the throne from which they will decide their destiny. It is the largest region of the continent, and most is endless jungle. Its centre, the grassland of the Nibenay Valley, is enclosed by an equatorial rain forest and broken up by rivers. As one travels south along these rivers, the more subtropical it becomes, until finally the land gives way to the swamps of Argonia and the placid waters of the Topal Bay.

The elevation rises gradually to the west and sharply to the north. Between its western coast and its central valley there are all manners of deciduous forest and mangroves, becoming sparser towards the ocean. The western coast is a wet-dry area, and from Rihad border to Anvil to the northernmost Valenwood villages forest fires are common in summer. There are a few major roads to the west, river paths to the north, and even a canopy tunnel to the Velothi Mountains, but most of Cyrodiil is a river-based society surrounded by jungle.

The Imperial City[8]

Refayj's famous declaration, "There is but one city in the Imperial Province,--" may strike the citizens of the Colovian west as mildly insulting, until perhaps they hear the rest of the remark, which continues, "--but in one city in Tamriel, but one city in the World; that, my brothers, is the city of the Cyrodiils." From the shore it is hard to tell what is city and what is Palace, for it all rises from the islands of the lake towards the sky in a stretch of gold. Whole neighbourhoods rest on the jewelled bridges that connect the islands together. Gondolas and river-ships sail along the watery avenues of its flooded lower dwellings. Moth-priests walk by in a cloud of ancestors; House Guards hold exceptionally long daikatanas crossed at intersections, adorned with ribbons and dragon-flags; and the newly arrived Western legionnaires sweat in the humid air. The river mouth is tainted red from the tinmi soil of the shore, and river dragons rust their hides in its waters. Across the lake the Imperial City continues, merging into the villages of the southern red river and ruins left from the Interregnum.

The Emperor's Palace is a crown of sun rays, surrounded by his magical gardens. One garden path is known as Green Emperor Road--here, topiaries of the heads of past Emperors have been shaped by sorcery and can speak. When one must advise Tiber Septim, birds are drawn to the hedgery head, using their songs as its voice and moving its branches for the needed expressions.

Annotations

Annotations by YR:

"Our old students forget themselves."

"Ha!"

"Even those humans who revile Talos as a traitor, oathbreaker, and scoundrel pay homage to his skill in obtaining his ends without resort to warfare."

"Truly, a doubtful statement."

"An observation: Colovians feel superior to Nibenese as a people, yet, because the East is the Empire's "heart", the Westerners are often neglected in Cyrodiil ~ Even though the throne is taken continually by Kings from the West, the Nibenese quickly assimilate them into their ranks."

"Author oddly sympathetic to the West--a Colovian scribe, perhaps?"

"It is certain that the tale of Talos' conquest of the Cyrodiil through use of his voice is not literally true--that kind of thu'um is now forbidden. This is all obviously a poetic reference, crafted to satisfy the popular human lust for blood and magic. This young myth is perhaps inspired by Talos' reputation for shrewd diplomacy, attested by even his greatest critics, which permitted him to scheme and bargain his way into the capital city--which he lacked the armies or funds to conquer by dint of force."

"Of course no mention of the Aldmeri Citadel the capital city was built upon--or the crimes perpetrated there in the previous era..."

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#tes #the elder scrolls #tes books #the elder scrolls books #cyrodiil #imperial #imperials #tiber septim #talos

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lj-writes · 6 years

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A meditation on Exodus and the United States

Tl; dr: The world’s richest failed state is increasingly making its failure official, an inevitable result of its criminal roots. It’s not just the U.S., though, we all have to start thinking of alternatives.

The news coming out of the U.S. in recent years is sad and sickening. With the retirement of Justice Kennedy and his inevitable replacement by a far-right Justice, the damage to American institutions will persist for decades at least and is likely to be permanent.

It may seem strange, but on hearing this last piece of news--which was just a matter of time really, you can only plug the dam with a finger for so long--my mind went to Exodus. I have heard that when Jewish people celebrate their ancestors’ emancipation from slavery in Egypt they also mourn the innocents who suffered in the Ten Plagues that God brought on Egypt. Many Jewish people have also questioned why the plagues were necessary at all, an admirable example of both critical thought and compassion. I can also see why God spent half his time being annoyed with y’all he freed you from slavery and here you are nitpicking his methods

I personally think, though, that it wasn't God's choice to bring the plagues. If we read God as a personification of universal forces, and that’s how I understand these stories as an atheist, the plagues were just the inevitable results of slavery and genocide. God no more brought the plagues than “Mother Earth” is “avenging herself” against humanity with global warming and the depletion of natural resources. These are symbolic ways to describe physical forces at work, except with Exodus we are talking about moral physics, or karma as they say in Buddhism.

In this view, God hardened the Pharaoh’s heart and brought the plagues similarly to how thermodynamics are warming the planet: The rules are simply there, unbreakable and unnegotiable, and the cause is the actions of humanity.

Take the precipitating cause of the plagues, the hardening of the Pharaoh’s heart against letting the enslaved Hebrew people go. Such refusal is a nearly inevitable reaction to institutionalized and profitable slavery, both because freeing the slaves will cause catastrophic economic loss and because an enormous amount of justification and dehumanization are required to make slavery socially and psychologically tolerable.

From the Pharaoh’s stubbornness, itself a consequence of slavery, came the other disasters, the frogs, the locusts and the rest, culminating in a direct callback to the Egyptians’ own crimes of infanticide against the Hebrews--the deaths of their firstborn, from which the Hebrew people were given the ability to save themselves. The story of Exodus has a happy-ish ending with the enslaved people leaving their captivity and setting out for the Promised Land, though the subsequent events are much more complicated. I like how these books don’t stint on the brutality that entailed the fairy-tale promise of the land of milk and honey; the Hebrews were not saved because they were inherently good, rather they were a people like any other just as capable of cruelty and hypocrisy once they had enough power. But that is a discussion for another time.

So what does this have to do with the United States? It’s essentially the same story as the Plagues because you can’t grow a just and well-functioning state from the roots of slavery and genocide any more than you can get wholesome fruit from a poisoned tree.

What’s more, unlike the link between the enslavement of Hebrews and, say, a swarm of locusts, there are direct and observable links between America’s policy of genocide and enslavement and its failures as a country. The vast tracts of land stolen for Native Americans required an equally vast workforce to make profitable, and slavery was allowed to fill that gap. The accommodation of the slave-owning states with its large numbers of enslaved Africans is the root of much of the distortions in U.S. politics today, including the shameful vestiges of slavery in the text of the U.S. Constitution and, more saliently, the electoral college, which is how Donald Trump could be President of the United States and why conservative rural states have a disproportionate effect in national elections.

This is to say nothing of the gross social and economic injustices that persist long after legal chattel slavery is gone, the white supremacy that split the working class along racial lines and weakened them as a political force, the fact that states with large Black populations are more reluctant to extend the benefits of health insurance to the population, the crisis of mass incarceration that drains the nation of its human and public resources for the bottom line of private prisons, the war on drugs that has pitted police against the communities they are pledged to protect, the changing of the electoral map in response to the passage of the Civil Rights Act, blatant gerrymandering to corral and limit the political effectiveness disfavored populations, voter suppression against targeted communities, the wholesale abduction of children from their parents, the list goes on.

The brutality, the enslavement, the genocide never stopped. They have come back to become plagues on the general American public, and they have been hurting and will continue to hurt the already exploited and wronged populations the worst. Even God, should he exist and should he wish to, cannot stop an unjust system from crumbling in on itself and taking the guilty and innocent alike with it. Voting for one party over another may slow the decline but cannot shore up a rotten foundation.

I have focused on the United States but the system of exploitation backed by state violence is a global one, and no one alive is free of it. We are paying and will continue to pay in the form of a degrading environment, more unequal societies, and the increasing inability to correct these ills through nonviolent electoral politics.

Physical removal of exploited minorities cannot be a solution this time, even a “voluntary” departure as when the Hebrews left Egypt in Exodus. And just how voluntary is it to leave when your alternatives are slavery and death? The ending of Exodus was bittersweet at best, and the sequels were increasingly violent with the Hebrews, ethnically cleansed out of Egypt, slaughtering and displacing other groups in order to survive.

No, we must all walk away together from the rotting empire or not at all. We must imagine different ways of life and live them. No one serious can pretend this will be an easy process. Our lives will change, our most deeply-held values may have to change, and many of us will die in the process. Chances are we will not muster the necessary willpower until the plagues have run their devastating course--and perhaps not even then. I don’t know if there is a way out or if the cure will be worse than the disease, as in the case of Soviet-style Communism. But we do have to look and look hard, because the state of affairs in the United States should be a warning to the world.

#america ain't beautiful #and the world is fucked #politics #exodus #religion #i'm just... trying to process what's going on #and i've always done that through stories #long post #first of all

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thisisnotdrbattista-blog · 6 years

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Essay III: Get Out

For my third critical analysis essay on horror, I chose the contemporary movie, Get Out, directed by Jordan Peele. Horror is a broad spectrum, and the most effective pieces of horror find their success in playing off the insecurities of their audience. This movie was considered a huge hit in its genre, and has such a unique and captivating story. Get Out uses race and cultural differences to uncover the social failings of a society and to entertain at the same time. Using references from literary studies on the uncanny, zombies, and much more, this essay is going to take a deeper look into the power of genre and the cultural significance of this movie.

The first connection I was able to make to the coursework when watching this film was the similarity between the Haitian Zombie, and the way that the Armitage’s were able to create their own zombie slaves, if you will, through hypnosis. David Inglis provides a great definition of the zombie in his chapter Putting the Undead to Work: “The fear that is embodied in the Haitian figure of the zombie is not the Euro American one of the dead returning to visit a cannibalistic holocaust on the living, but rather involves dread of the body snatcher –the zombie master- who takes the living body and destroys the soul within it, creating a living dead being who endlessly obeys his will” (p. 42). I think the term “body snatcher” can be easily applied to the work that the Armitage family was doing. A perfect example would be the opening scene where the son throws a black man in the trunk of his car, who shows back up later at the garden party, but this time he does not seem to have his soul. Following the same type of mentality as the witch doctor from White Zombie, the Armitage family is making slaves out of people, through hypnosis and surgery instead of magic, and selling them off as their own labor force.

Another connection I made after watching the movie was the sunken place (Chris’ hypnotized state) and the subconscious, to Freud’s ideas on the uncanny. Freud gives an insightful explanation on the relationship between human consciousness and the uncanny: “If this really is the secret nature of the uncanny, we can understand why German usage allows the familiar to switch to its opposite, the uncanny, for this uncanny element is actually nothing new or strange, but something that was long familiar to the psyche and was estranged from it only through being repressed” (pg. 148). Exploiting Chris’ subconscious by bringing up the topic of his mother’s death, she is able to repress the part of his brain that makes him Chris. After the initial hypnosis, she almost has complete control over him with her teacup. We see throughout the film that these people with someone else in their mind controlling their body and consciousness are brought to the surface when exposed to a camera flash. Meaning there is some hope for these people that have been turned, but we also see that the man taken over by the grandfather kills himself as soon as he is freed from the distressing situation of living his life as a spectator.

The term used to describe these people once they’ve been hypnotized is the “sunken place.” Once put in this trance, Chris finds his existence to be as the passenger of his own life, he screams and struggles and gets no result or reaction from the people around him. The sunken place is meant to represent the oppression of the system, and how minorities find themselves trapped, screaming as hard as they can without being able to get any sort of communication across. Peele was trying to make a statement about the underrepresentation of black people in the horror genre, and how he was upset with the stereotype of them always being the first ones to die off. Thinking about the film in that light, Peele really turns the tables around, by not only having the black protagonist survive, but having to murder his way out of the house to freedom.

To bring this all back to the discussion of cultural significance, Get Out, tells a story of racism to a group of people that think racism is no longer a problem. So what is it that makes this movie so powerful and such a good medium for a message that a nation desperately needs to hear? Author Colin Dickey sheds some light on what separates good hauntings and horror from the sheep: “A paranormal event without a story is tenuous, fragile. What makes it “real,” at least in a sense, is the story, the tale that grounds the event. The sense of the uncanny, of something not-quite-right, of things ever-so-slightly off, cries out for an explanation” (pg. 5). Dickey explains to us that to deliver a message, especially to todays disconnected population, you have to ground the idea your trying to communicate with something that seems more interesting or entertaining to the masses. Once you have captured their attention you are able to point out the reality and truth to them, the truth that they refuse to see by looking around. Even genres of horror like the ghost hunters start off by establishing the history of the buildings they go through, as well as the tragic pasts of the ghosts they are trying to provoke.

Peele does an excellent job in Get Out of building suspense. By creating those not-quite-right situations, as Dickey put it, he was able to use a realistic character. Most horror films feature protagonists who are incredibly oblivious and don’t have the sense to pick up the phone and call the cops, or to get in the car and drive away. What is so brilliant about the suspense build up in Get Out, is that nothing too out of the ordinary happens that would make a rational person leave a girl he’s been dating for months, until its too late.

So what dose this movie say about our current situation as a nation? Looking at the bonus features on the film there was a Q&A panel with Jordan Peele and someone asked him about his favorite scene in the movie. Peele responded, saying that he enjoyed the insecurities revealed in the garden party: “When you have older white people trying to connect with a younger black man the insecurities come out in a weird way.” Watching the movie, you find out that the whole purpose of the garden party was for these people to evaluate the possibility of buying Chris at the auction, which only adds another theatrical layer to the racist situation on display. Every time Chris meets with a potential buyer they let out some awkward piece of conversation as their way of trying to connect with someone with racial and cultural differences. All the other black people on the question panel agreed that this scene had a lot of truth behind it, and said that they do have to suffer through situations like this regularly

One of the biggest eye openers for me when I watched this movie is the character Rose. She is a powerful persuader and a master of lies, and to me, she reveals the most about our culture’s divide when she tries to talk down Chris as a way to prove to him she and her family are not racist. Rose will go on little tangents with Chris as her audience about her family having black servants, the way he was treated by a cop, or how her family and friends are just “so white.” Hearing her overcompensate as a way to try and come off as sincere reminded me of the same thing I see on social media every day. White people will see a video of police brutality on twitter and quote it with some witty caption and think that they have just made peace with the whole black community. The way they go into great lengths online about civil rights and social responsibility reminded me of the same empty way that Rose would overcompensate so that her cover wouldn’t be blown. I know that these people’s words are hallow because I spend time with them in real life and know for a fact that they are not actually doing anything to change the current situation, or to give up the privilege they’ve been born with.

Overall, this movie is a great tribute to its genre and does a great job reflecting national anxieties and problematic attitudes. Watching this movie again after in class discussions about zombies and Haitian culture, I was able to notice a lot of parallels between Get Out and movies like White Zombie. A lot of the ideas and theories presented in Freud’s The Uncanny, are revealed in this film. Peele does a great job of building suspense in this movie while delivering a powerful message at the same time, and I would recommend this movie to any fan of Horror.

Work Cited

“Putting the Undead to Work” David Inglis

“The Uncanny” Sigmund Freud

“Ghostland” Collin Dickey

#ils4180battistaspring18

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jolina-martir · 4 years

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Humanity

“You must not lose faith in humanity. Humanity is an ocean; if a few drops of the ocean are dirty, the ocean does not become dirty.” – Mahatma Gandhi this is the most meaningful quote I can compare to the topic about "hope for humanity" as a person living in this world many things I have seen inhumanity in people. But even so, I can see the ugliness of other people; I still hope that the situation will change, such as during times of tragedy, disaster, and other problems, you will see humanity helping other people. This is an example of humanity working together. in reality, we do not always see humanity helping each other because nowadays life is hard no one thinks much about helping others we need hope for humanity to have a better community for all and the future generation ahead of us.

First of all what is humanity? Humanity is the human race, which includes everyone on Earth. It’s also a word for the qualities that make us human, such as the ability to love and have compassion. The word humanity is from the Latin humanitas for "human nature, kindness.” Humanity includes all the humans, but it can also refer to the kind feelings humans often have for each other. But when you talk about humanity, you could just be talking about people as a whole. When people do bad things, it tests your faith in humanity. When people ask for money to help feed starving children, they're appealing to your sense of humanity.

Hope for humanity is a beautiful thing and can create peace. Sadly it disappeared years ago. also because of self-interest the love of power in politics or other things sought to achieve people have forgotten the word humanity because from what I see at the moment I will only help you when you get something in return for and to make their image beautiful. Before discussing hope for humanity we will instead think about how important humanity is in the world.

Religion is a broad entity that should add some higher purpose to one’s life and keep you grounded. It is not just a set of rules and teachings that you must devote your life to. It’s what you take from any religion that’s important. All religions give the teachings of love, peace and unity. It should be something to believe in, and not just something to define our very actions and thoughts. The most important requirement is peace. Where there is peace there is abundance. For me the most important religion is humanity - just being a good human being defines you everywhere. All that you need to work upon is being helpful to the needy at all times and every place. Being loving and caring towards all living beings even plants and animals, and above all to understand another person’s problem and realize the situations they are in and be considerate. Humanity means caring for and helping others whenever and wherever possible. Humanity means helping others at times when they need that help the most, humanity means forgetting our selfish interests at times when others need our help. Humanity means extending unconditional love to each and every living being on Earth. If eating and having fun is only what we are born to do then we should keep one thing in mind; even animals can do this. One does not need a hefty bank account to contribute towards humanitarian activities. Paying our domestic help fairly is also humanity. Lifting the heavy bag for an old woman is humanity, helping a disabled person to cross the road is humanity, helping your mum in chores is humanity; in fact helping anyone who is in need is humanity. As soon as we understand the importance of humanity in day to day life, the purpose for which we are on Earth is automatically fulfilled. "Hope for humanity" but how can we have hope for humanity if we losses humanity itself the loss of humans is the inability and disconnection of reasoning from the things around us. Without the ability to think and invent things human being will be use and daft to get anything done. But because our sensory build differs from that of animals. Our senses develop faster and able to do exceptional things. However, why humans are progressive we also suffered retrogression in our society due to the inequality we have and the mishandling of the life f people. This itself had led to a great loss in humanity where people have to do the most harmful to survive. Without mentioning far this hideous incident left in our doorstep of civilization. One painful is the integrity, ability, development of people to think mentally and consciously things about their society and what they feel about it. But due to ignorance people were left to perish in perpetual demerit, failing to see the reason why people are castrated to living what they never choose to have. The loss of our society begins from the period when class took the Centre stage of human civilization. That is why our life as humans begins to have clause. In a time when the 24-hour news cycle bombards us with stories of tragedy, heartbreak and deceit, it can be difficult to keep our heads up and remain optimistic about the world we live in. But amid the tragedy and sadness, we receive daily glimpses of hope and happiness—moments when our spirits are lifted and we’re reminded of the generosity and kindness of others. The following is a mixture of tales, both personal and newsworthy, that restored our faith in humanity. I know we heard a lot of bad news that change your perception in humanity but there are still stories you didn’t heard like A Sudanese woman, Alik, who was pregnant and had two young children in tow, arrived in Fort Worth, Texas, without her husband, Dyan, in 2012. Upon leaving their refugee camp in Egypt, Dyan wasn’t able to make the journey with his family because the couple had no official proof of their marriage with them. Alik was processed as a single mother, who bumped her to the top of the resettlement list, and her husband, a single man, was moved down to the bottom. Over the next four years, two women with The Village Church in Fort Worth helped Alik and her children get their lives started in the U.S. The women also called congressional representatives, spoke with attorneys and met with social workers in an attempt to help Dyan come to the U.S. After four years, Dyan was finally reunited with his wife and three children, including the baby Alik was pregnant with when she left. Video footage shows Dyan dropping to his knees in a tearful prayer of thanksgiving after being reunited with his family by Jamie Friedlander. They all said that All Dogs Go to Heaven More people are adopting or fostering old dogs than ever. One such dog is Danny Boy, an Australian cattle dog diagnosed with blood cancer after landing at Muttville Senior Dog Rescue in San Francisco. Foster parents Russell Utley and Marie Macaspac checked off a bucket list for the pup. They took happy-go-lucky Danny to Half Moon Bay, California, to eat crabs bought off a boat, dressed him for fancy fundraisers, fed him homemade food and took road trips. Given three to six months to live, Danny stretched that to 15 months. In that time, Danny transformed the lives of his owners. “Old dogs have a wonderful spirit,” says Utley, who now fosters 16-year-old blind and deaf Chachito for Muttville, which pays for veterinary care and last year found hospice homes for 85 dogs. Senior dog rescue groups have popped up around the country in the past decade. The Thulani Program in California has saved more than 290 senior German shepherd dogs to date, with a goal of finding homes for 100 every year, says director Bob Jachens by Sally Deneen.

There is the time that we feel like we lost our faith in humanity but you are not the first, neither is you going to be the last to have lost faith in humanity as a whole. It is likely that either your experiences or your interpretation of all the horrific news about humanity, or both, has brought on such feelings towards your fellow men and women. Perhaps you have filled your head with movies and books that are loaded with violence, greed and all the other negative aspects of humanity. Perhaps you have friends and family who share those same traits. So…what do you do? Start by filling your head with positive thoughts, find positive-thinking friends, and keep troublesome family members at arm’s length. You may be experiencing a depressive state as well, which means you may need some medical support. Often those that have given up on humanity have really given up on themselves. If that is the case, then start being your own best friend and take care of yourself by eating in a healthy manner and exercising both your body and your brain. Take up running, you will find why so many are addicted to it… it kicks out the ‘feel-good’ endorphins and your brain feels on top of the world and humanity won’t look so bad at least for a while. There are many people in this world who make a very positive contribution to society you just need to find them, and perhaps be one yourself.

The current generation is full of young, intelligent, and enthusiastic minds all ready to change the world. These traits may not be a part of every person you meet, but they do exist. Is it not closed-minded (even plain disrespectful?) to think that no one has the ability to change the world? Or moreover, that no one even believes any member of the current generation has the ability to change the world? The minds of today, both young and old still have an unbelievable capacity to change the world in unimaginable ways. Stop thinking the current generation lack the ability to test the contemporary zenith of modern society. Just because you’ve seen a few bad stories on the news, doesn’t mean the whole world is a bad place. The world is actually a great place if you look for it. In a world of 7 billion people (and counting), don’t let a few bad eggs spoil the basket. Perhaps the lack of humanity comes from your perception of it? Instead of hunting for all the negatives in a good situation, why not try the opposite? Look for the good in every situation. Accept that bad things will happen, but realize that it is your decision to let those things affect your happiness. It’s always up to someone else to bring humanity into the world is it? Instead of watching the world go by and expecting people to be nice to each other, why don’t you go out and set the standard? Sure not everyone you show kindness to will show kindness back, but most will. And at the very least you won’t go to bed feeling like an asshole. Stop complaining about all the “lack of humanity” in the world. Be the change you want to see in the world. I always do have hope in humanity regardless of what is happening or what others have gone something wrong instead an act of kindness that you ask people to pay forward So, instead of losing faith in humanity and doing nothing about it, why not start with yourself by helping those around you. Not necessarily by making some grand gesture, but starting small and building hope step by step. Here is the time that we feel like we lost our hope in humanity but People can be totally rude, but that's no reason to lose hope in humans having hope for humanity reminds you that perhaps we aren't all that bad, after all.

#@queenlupitajones

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adaralondon · 4 years

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What’s the Tea Geoffrey: Was the Canterbury Tale Chaucer’s diary?

Known as the father of English literature Chaucer is a man of many words. Not only that, he was a rule breaker using Middle English Vernacular, the slang of peasants, to present his writings to the upper class who preferred the debonair of the Latin and French languages. This was a bold and controversial move for someone who was a member of parliament. Although he used English as his choice language Chaucer still managed to produce over fourteen widely popular books, but his most notable work is The Canterbury Tales. It contains twenty-four tales told by thirty different pilgrims, but he originally planned for it to include 124 stories in total. Unfortunately, all 124 planned stories were unable to be completed due to his untimely death which left many of the tales he had already started incomplete. The Canterbury Tales however is not only interesting because it contains such a vast amount of tales but also because one man was able to write so many stories that gave each character in their respective tale a different personality. However, upon closer inspection the stories may not be as unique as we originally thought. Many details mirror events that happened in Chaucer’s real life. The Wife of Bath’s Tale mirrors several aspects of his raptus accusations or as we know it as in modern day and age: Rape or kidnapping, from Cecily Champagne. The Franklin’s Tale is famously thought to be a tale about his marriage to the Queen’s lady in waiting, Philippa Roet. His close friend John of Gaunt also makes a few appearances yet they are notoriously negative. John was thought to be a usurper of Chaucer’s marriage as reflected in The Merchant’s Tale. Since we have very limited biographical records when it comes to Chaucer’s life this paper can only be taken as speculation but I will support my claims using the evidence I’ve collected from searching through his writings, the limited biographical records we do have, and numerous scholarly sources. Through my paper I will answer the question: Is it possible that Chaucer used The Canterbury Tales as a method of therapy so he could vent about traumatic experiences without being judged, confined, or imprisoned? I will also provide proof as to why I believe my stance in the argument, that he did use The Canterbury tales as some sort of journal, is not as farfetched as it seems.

Therapy in the 14th century was nothing like the services we are provided now. Today you can book an appointment with a licensed therapist and discuss your problems confidentially. The therapist isn’t going to consider you a nutcase for speaking your mind and the only way you will get sent to the asylum is if you threaten to harm yourself, others, or are an immediate danger. People who lived in the 14th century did not have this luxury. According to several sources (Preceden, Schwartz, and Burton) The first mental health symptoms were identified in 500bce and were listed as mania, melancholia, dementia, hysteria, delusions, and hallucinations. These symptoms are even noted in the bible. In 1 Samuel 16:14:23 there is a verse that states: “And it came to pass, when the evil spirit from God was upon Saul, that David took [a] harp, and played with his hand: so Saul was refreshed, and was well, and the evil spirit departed from him.”(Bible Gateway) showing that these symptoms were not unknown to even the most inspirational of figures.

Although we look at these as signs of mental illness the perception of what is classifies as such has always changed with the century it is identified in. During 500bce scholars like Plato and Socrates considered madness “the gift of heaven, [that] is the channel by which we receive the greatest blessings… madness comes from God, whereas sober sense is merely human.” Suggesting that most creatively talented people dealt with some sort of mental aliment that benefited their work in ways people who are neurotypical could have not imagined. Not every scholar thought that “madness” was a blessing though. Mental health was typically looked at from two different angles. As aforementioned, it could be thought of as a gift that was received from the Gods as many mental illnesses are known to have inspired some of the best modern artistic talents. Van Gough, Beethoven, and Munch were all known to suffer from some sort of affliction yet are still considered some of our greatest artist. The second view of mental illness was more cynical. It was thought of as a divine punishment, demonic possession, or wildly enough “an imbalance of [the] four bodily fluids or humors”. Since there were not what we considered therapist and psychiatrist in those days’ things thought to be caused by religion were often dealt with by religion. Most of the time the cures that dealt with these afflictions often were based in mysticisms: trepanation where a ‘doctor’ would drill a hole into the skull to release the ‘demon’ or ‘sprit’ inside of one’s being or hydrotherapy which would be akin to a Jesus like baptism and often times included crucifixion in its usage.

It was not until a year after Chaucer’s death in 1401 that next thoughts of where trauma and mental illness spawned from were formed: Christianity. In the 1400s Mental health issues were thought to have come from practicing witchcraft which would make converting to Christianity the lesser evil as opposed to being accused of being a witch and burned alive. Two years later though things had started to move away from religion and towards more ‘realistic’ treatments. The first mental health institution was opened in 1403 but during that time treatment would have still been considered inhumane to modern day people. If diagnosed with an aliment the treatment was little more than being restraint in a strayjacket. (Britannica). However inhumane the treatments were they were still vast improvements to what was available during the 13th century. Unfortunately, these things had only become available after Chaucer’s death meaning that he would never be able to experience the improvements in health care.

During the medieval ages those who did not believe in the church or its teachings did not have much to lean on. Chaucer who was a non-believer and whose life contained multiple exiles, kidnapping, the death of his wife & several of his children, and the loss of his position in the royal court did not have many places he could go to relieve stress. Given his circumstances and the effect they would have had on his mien Chaucer would more than likely have been accused of witchcraft or be admitted to an asylum (had these options been available) but since he did not trust the church enough to use the confessionals which at the time were akin to what we considered a modern-day therapist there was not much hope for him. As a practicing Christian or catholic, citizens were supposed to be able to go to the church and confess anything with it being considered 100% confidential. Yet given the way Chaucer writes his characters that play ‘vital’ church roles the confessional did not seem to be the best choice to entrust secrets to. Since the church was not a source of comfort for Chaucer, he was left with one option albeit one familiar, friendly, and that would never betray him: Writing.

Writing has been a therapeutic source for as long as people have had written language. Many writers subconsciously voice their problems to their audience throughout their work. “Self-1 acts as the main character as well as an involved narrator, while Self-2 acts as the narrator, listener, and counselor, and life narratives usually appear as a dialogue between these two selves. Self-1 and Self-2 merge when an epiphany occur in the author’s writing that allows him or her to make sense of life experiences.” (Yu) I can attest to this personally as a three-time published author when writing each of my books I noticed that a lot of my writing seemed to mirror experiences that had happened to me. I was not intentionally incorporating these events into my writing and I had not noticed that I was doing it. Once I started to proofread, I noticed all the topics I was writing about sounded familiar. It was like I was having a conversation with two versions of myself. One person was explaining the things that happened to them and the other person was listening and acting as a counselor. After I had written these experiences down, I felt immensely better as though a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. “Studies have found that most people feel happier and healthier after writing about deeply traumatic memories.” (Pennebaker) Proving that writing therapy has healing effects and may even be therapeutic for those who have no where else to turn. Although some people may argue Chaucer did not use The Canterbury Tales as a therapist there is no way to explicitly prove this. No one has a complete biographical record of his life and what we do have is fragmented containing only bits and pieces of his life which leaves a lot to speculation. Many writers would argue that writing therapy is often subconscious, and they are not aware most of the time that the therapy session is taking place. Also, as mentioned previously since a substantial amount of Chaucer’s records are missing from history no one can make a case for either side and claim it as completely true. Upon my close inspection though, I have noticed that there are several events in The Canterbury Tales that mirror Chaucer’s life so I can argue that he did use the book as his own personal confessional.

Perhaps one of the most infamous moments of Chaucer’s life was when he was accused of rape by Cecily Champagne. The exact term used is the Latin word raptus which could mean several things such as to seize or to force sexual acts unto someone. (Glosbe) Like most terms not every word translates directly into modern English; words are known to shift meaning quite frequently so there is not any exact way for us to know which version of the act Chaucer was accused of. Even scholars have debated exactly which usage of the word Chaucer was charged with but since it was known to be a common occurrence in legal documentation scholars have narrowed down the argument a lot. “The nature of the offence is made clear by the use of the two words 'rapuerunt et abduxerunt'. When raptus or forms of the verb rapere are used alone, it seems they must mean rape.” (Pearsall). It is unknown if Chaucer kidnapped Cecily Champagne or sexually forced himself on her but given what we can see from the knight in The Wife of Bath’s Tale its highly possible that Chaucer was accused of what we consider to be modern day sexual assault.

In modern times Rape has become trivialized, children yell out that they are being raped when being playfully touched by their classmates and women are villainized based on what they were wearing, drinking, and or where they were located. Rape has also started to become fetishized as seen by television, film, and pornography where women dream of being forced into sexual situations and the media highlighting rape scenes as a basis for the growth of women into a powerful being. However, in Chaucer’s time this was not the case because rape was treated as an extremely serious crime. The punishment for rape was “castration and blinding, and later [hanging].” (Lee) This is seen in The Wife of Bath’s Tale as King Arthur is ready to put the Knight to death: “that dampned was this knyght for to be deed.” (Chaucer L.891) King Arthur was attempting to carry out his duty in order to appease the woman whose maidenhead was stolen by the Knight, but strangely enough it is the women of the town and the queen that beg him not to punish the Knight. The Queen instead sends the knight on a quest to find out what is it that women truly desire to atone for his grievous sin. The woman who is raped is written out of the story and only mentioned once, not by name, and only in tandem with the Knight. The same way Champagne is written out of history after Chaucer pays her off. Also, the way the knight’s rape case is bartered by the women around him mirrors Chaucer’s friends support of him when he was accused. The rape accusations had no effect on Chaucer’s career as such the rape did not have any effect on the knight’s status as a hero of medieval literature as this is not the only instance of knights committing such heinous crimes. Although what makes the tale so interesting is that Chaucer writes this tale so casually given he has personal experience with being accused of rape. That isn’t to say that he wasn’t affected by the accusation mentally though, even though it had no effect on his career and is written so freely, being accused of rape is something that can ruin a person’s life health wise. “The mental health damage caused to wrongly convicted prisoners is similar to that suffered by veterans of war and torture survivors….A 2003 study conducted by the Life After Exoneration Program of sixty [falsely accused prisoners] found that nearly half were burdened by depression, anxiety disorders or post-traumatic stress disorder.” (Hoyle 13) The writing in The Wife of Bath’s Tale mirror the accusation from Cecily Champagne and the way his friends defended his name way too closely to just be coincidental. It is arguable that the accusations did have a substantial effect on his life and mental health especially since he was accused of rape in 1380 and the tales were written in 1400. This would mean he carried that trauma with him for about 20 years before releasing it on paper. In addition to being accused of rape another thing that would have stressed him out was his marriage to Phillipa Roet.

Chaucer’s wife Philippa Roet was of a much higher status then he was. Chaucer was born into a family of vintners meanwhile his wife was a lady in waiting for Elizabeth of Ulster, Queen Philippa, and Constance of Castile. The main characters of The Franklin’s Tale: Dorigen and Arveragus also have differences in class and ranking. Dorigen, like Roet comes from a higher born status and Arveragus must go through a set of tasks to win her love. When he does, they marry, and he agrees with her that they should be equals in private, but he should hold the power when it comes to public appearances. Even though Roet was of higher born status she was still a woman.

Women in the 13th century were thought of as property of their husbands. It is a common thought that women had no rights in their marriages, but this is not true. Women did have “the right to consent to marriage, the right to ask for marital debt or conjugal (sexual) duty, the right to leave a marriage when they either suspected it was invalid or had grounds to sue for separation, and finally the right to choose one's own place of burial, death being the point at which a spouse's ownership of the other spouse's body ceased.” (McDougall). However, these rights did not make them equal to their partners, women were still considered inferior in the eyes of the law and the court. Even if the woman was considered elite according to English law their husbands were still considered above them in terms of martial power. The duty of an upper-class woman was known to be “to obey their spouse, guard their virtue, produce offspring, and to oversee the operation of the household.” (Schaus) So, it is surprising that Arveragus offers Dorigen the opportunity to be equals, although we are not sure what that equality entails, even if it is private. One thing I noticed is that since this tale is perhaps the one that parallels Chaucer’s life the most, it is interesting that he chooses not to have Chaucer the Pilgrim tell this tale. Perhaps it was too painful to use his own character. Perhaps it is to hide that Chaucer’s marriage to Philippa may have been ‘corrupted’ by the foreign suitor: Aurelius who more than likely was based on her partner in adultery, John of Gaunt. This seemed to influence his mental health as his wife betrayed their sacred marriage vows and committed fornication with John of Gaunt who is generally considered to be one of his close friends.

It was not uncommon for John to pursue women as he was known to be quite the womanizer; meaning it would not be unusual for John to have pursued Roet. This tale suggests two things: Chaucer was aware of Gaunt’s pursuit of his wife and she did the honorable thing which would have been to reject his advances out of respect for her husband which in the story Dorigen rejects Aurelius’ pursuit of her. The second thing it suggest is that Chaucer was aware that she did indeed commit this horrible act but asked her to keep it a secret. In the tale there is a scene where Dorigen must make good on her promise to be with Aurelius since he completed his task for her while her husband was a way. Her husband commands her to keep it a secret and makes her keep her promise to Aurelius. “Dorigen can keep her promise to Aurelius, but Arveragus will kill her if she ever lets anyone find out that he has lost sexual control of her. Masculine pride in his public ownership of Dorigen is revealed here as the real bottom line of Arveragus's self-image, known cuckoldry the one outcome he cannot tolerate under any circumstances.” (Davis) Suggesting that Chaucer would not allow his wife’s blunder to influence his career.

There is quite a debate on whether Gaunt slept with Phillipa. Gaunt was married to Roet’s sister and an affair would have been considered incestuous but since public records regarding her infidelity are hard to come by no one can be sure. It is known that Chaucer’s son chose to take his mother’s coat of arms instead of his father’s suggesting that Chaucer may not have been his father at all. In fact, many scholars debate if Chaucer’s son was his own or if he was truly Gaunt’s son. “Given John of Gaunt's reputation for fornication, it is a distinct possibility that ‘the randy prince’ liked to tumble about with both sisters at the same time and that Chaucer's supposed son, Thomas was not the product of the poet's loins but was actually the son of John of Gaunt.” (Dartington Morris Men.) Due to the son wearing his mother’s insignia suggesting that he and Chaucer may not have been close possibly which would be likely if Chaucer was not truly his father.

Having to father a son that was not yours would more than likely be a significant cause of stress. It would have caused some tension between all three parties especially since given the events of The Franklin’s Tale Chaucer more than likely forbade his wife from discussing it. Although the law did permit that Chaucer could take revenge against Gaunt at any time: “the killing of a male adulterer by a male cuckold was not outlawed in secular law, leaving scope for lawful revenge-killing.” (Weinstein). Although revenge killing would have been way too risky given that Gaunt was a prince and if Chaucer killed him it would be revealed that his wife was unfaithful. The unfaithfulness of a wife would have shown that Chaucer was unable to maintain control of his ‘property’ causing him immense shame and staining his career. Having to keep a secret is known to influence mental health and one’s sense of self. The inability to do anything regarding his wife’s affair could be what led to the resentment of marriage that is shown in The Merchant’s Tale.

The final tale I would like to reference is The Merchant’s Tale. Since it was commonly thought that his wife was unfaithful and committed adultery with his close friend John of Gaunt. In medieval times men were expected to remain faithful to their wives but it was foolish for a man to expect his wife to be faithful back to him suggesting that Chaucer was aware of the fornication. Several of Chaucer’s tales focus on marriage but there are two that seem to mirror his own marriage closely one being The Franklin’s Tale and the other The Merchant’s Tale.

The prologue of The Merchant’s Tale starts with a negative view of women and marriage. “I have a wyf, the worste that may be/For thogh the feend to hire ycoupled were.” (Chaucer line 1218-1219) The Merchant believes that marriage is an atonement for past sins and belittles both his vows and his wife in front of the other pilgrims. January the character of the tale, is completely different than the one in the Merchant’s prologue, however. The tale itself begins with a favorable attitude regarding marriage as for some mysterious reason this honorable knight who had envied married men had avoided holy matrimony for so long. He describes being a bachelor as a painful thing and calls a wife “the best part of a treasure.” (Chaucer) He also notes that the thought of being married makes his heart swell with pride. With January’s view of marriage in such an opposition to the merchant’s, it is hard to know what side of the fence Chaucer himself stood on. It is thought that Chaucer knew his own wife was unfaithful but went back in forth between feeling as though he was a cuckhold-- ironically enough this exact word is used in the tale in line 1306 and once again in line 2256-- to feelings of anger. This is important because historically we are unsure if Chaucer’s own marriage to Phillipa Roet was content or full of contempt. “Women didn't have a choice as to who they would marry and, most of the time, women didn't even know the man before they wed. However, men were sometimes able to choose their bride. Marriage back then was not based on love; most marriages were political arrangements.” (Medieval Times) Perhaps even the great and humble Chaucer himself saw marriage as something political and not for love as he had a substantial problem with the concepts of oaths. Also, regarding marriage for the purpose of financial and economic gain was not uncommon during the time. Chaucer could have used his marriage to Roet to gain higher status and a larger amount of royalties for his writing since writers were not paid well leading many to have to pick up secondary careers. Although , it may be possible given the way January speaks on marriage and so obviously turns a blind eye to witnessing his wife’s ludicrous act with another man that Chaucer was so in love with Phillipa that he was willing to overlook her infidelity.

In medieval times men were expected to remain faithful to their wives. Adultery was considered a crime under a monarchy that centered its laws around the bible. When laws were broken the court would subject them to a fitting punishment and punishments in the medieval times are nowhere comparable to the lenient jail time criminals can serve today. Depending on what crime was committed a person could be condemned to wear a badge designating what their crime was for their entire life. (Thorpe) or even worse, since torture was a favorite during this time, someone accused of cheating on their spouse would be put into a stock or a pillory and the stock would hold one by their ankles while the pillory was used for heads and wrist. (Medieval Chronicles). Although Chaucer thought it was foolish for a man to expect his wife to be faithful back to him. (Lumiansky) women were not exempt from being punished for adultery. The Leges Henrici Primi decreed that the King should have the executive authority to punish an adulterous man, and that adulterous women should be punished by bishops. (Weinstein). Although, ironically enough in The Manciple’s Tale, Chaucer warns women to be careful of unfaithful men. It is well known that Chaucer’s wife was an adulterer but, it is possible due to his wife being of higher status then him he didn’t have much room for complaint because if they were to be legally separated for any reason Chaucer would lose the higher status he had achieved. It is to be noted that this status was indeed revoked when Philippa, his wife, had passed on. Also, if Chaucer loved Phillipa he would not want her to receive the punishments that were attested to women when they were charged with the crime of adultery. “The codes of Cnut prescribed corporal mutilation for female adulterers—cutting off their nose and ears.” (Klinck).

Being conflicted on whether to turn his spouse over to the higher court and risk her punishment or letting her be free to cheat continuously would have caused Chaucer significant emotional stress. We see that infidelity in marriage is a common theme in almost all the marriage tales Chaucer writes. Furthermore, it is known the when a spouse is unfaithful it can have a significant impact on one’s health, “being the victim of infidelity can have serious consequences for a person's mental and physical health. The situation has been associated with depression, anxiety, and unhealthy coping…. some mental health professionals also believe there can be parallels with post-traumatic stress disorder.” (Millar) It is possible that since Chaucer could not turn her in nor did he believe in going to the church confessional that he internalized a lot of his anger and sadness and instead wrote his feelings into The Canterbury Tales, the safest place for them to be. I would also argue that he could safely express his feelings regarding the church because the tales were written in English and English vernacular, which at time would have been the language of peasants. Anything considerably worth reading at the time would have been presented in Latin and French the languages regarded worthy at the time. This would have allowed his to get away with quite a lot.

By the time Chaucer had started working on The Canterbury Tales he had been exiled from Europe. He was permitted to return years later and lived in the Close of the Collegiate Church of St Peter until his death in 1401. However, during exile he had lost his wife and several of his children died due to diseases that commonly plagued Europe at the time. After his wife died his social status was revoked and he was reduced to little more than a gardener. It is unknown how Chaucer died some say it was natural causes while other say he was murdered by enemies of Richard the second. Despite the chaos of his life I think that Chaucer did not die a miserable man. In his last moments he could speak his mind freely in his book allowing all the troubles he faced while he was alive to be translated onto paper. Many people may ask why a paper like this is important to explore when there are more pressing topics when it comes to Chaucer’s writing such as feminism, sexism, and queer theory. While those are indeed important looking at things from a psychoanalytic lens is equally important. As English majors I think it is important to look at Chaucer's work through a psychoanalytic lens because often we forget the writers exsist outside of their work. Chaucer was a person as much as he was a writer and it is important to acknowledge that he went through a lot in his life if we want to understand his work better. Realizing that authors are human takes them off the god pedestal our society has forced some of English's greatest writers-- such as Shakespeare -- and makes them feel more accessible to students and teachers alike. A topic like this is also important because it discusses the taboo subject of mental health which serves to further humanize English's favorite authors. As readers we like to think that our favorites were untouchable, Great literature makes us believe that these authors did not suffer through real life events and only exsist through their writing. I think that that is dangerous because struggles are what make people who they are. When we separate crucial events from our writers, we start to miss important points and topics that appear in their writing. Chaucer wrote The Canterbury Tales not only for our entertainment but also to express that he was not invincible. He was a man just like the rest of the world, who suffered just as much as the peasant class did. I can say that he did use his writing as a tool to express the anguish that appeared because there are too many events in The Canterbury Tales that mirror his real life to be coincidental. Scholars may debate this point but upon reading this essay I hope they research Chaucer’s life and see that the tales are more than just a way for him to poke fun at the church and throw a couple of sexual innuendos into a literary classic but also asway for a human man to express human suffering. It is important to realize that these people also had lives just like us so that we can have a better understanding of their works and they do not feel as untouchable as we allow them to now. It is a new phenomenon to include trauma in works of fiction as a way of therapy. Walter Dean Myers another famous writer was often encouraged by his teachers to use his writing to express himself. Van Gough was thought to have used The Scream to paint the storm he felt inside of himself. Chinua Achebe used his writing to express disdain for the British settlement and colonization in his home country of Nigeria. Geoffrey Chaucer was not the first man to use his works as his own personal therapist and he will not be the last.

Works cited:

“BibleGateway.” 1 Samuel 16:14-23 KJV - - Bible Gateway, www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1%2BSamuel%2B16%3A14-23&version=KJV.

“History of Mental Illness.” Preceden, www.preceden.com/timelines/72367-history-of-mental-illness.

“Medieval Crime & Punishment.” Medieval Crime & Punishment, www.medievalchronicles.com/medieval-torture-devices/medieval-crime-punishment/.

“Medieval Marriage: What Was Marriage Like In The Middle Ages?: Medieval Times Dinner & Tournament.” Medieval Times, www.medievaltimes.com/teachers-students/materials/medieval-era/marriage.html.

“Raptus in English.” Glosbe, glosbe.com/la/en/raptus.

“The Merchant’s Tale.” The Riverside Chaucer, by Geoffrey Chaucer and Larry Dean Benson, Houghton Mifflin, 1987, p. 153.

“The Wife of Bath's Tale.” The Riverside Chaucer, by Geoffrey Chaucer and Larry Dean Benson, Houghton Mifflin, 1987, p. 117.

Burton, Neel. “A Brief History of Psychiatry.” Psychology Today, Sussex Publishers, 2 June 2012, www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/hide-and-seek/201206/brief-history-psychiatry.

Gu, Yue1, [email protected]. “Narrative, Life Writing, and Healing: The Therapeutic Functions of Storytelling.” Neohelicon, vol. 45, no. 2, Dec. 2018, pp. 479–489. EBSCOhost, doi:10.1007/s11059-018-0459-4.

Hoyle, Carolyn. “The Impact of Being Wrongly Accused of Abuse in Occupations of Trust: Victims' Voices.” Oxford Law Faculty, 1 Oct. 2018, www.law.ox.ac.uk/research-and-subject-groups/impact-being-wrongly-accused-abuse-occupations-trust-victims-voice.

John O'Gaunt and Chaucer. Dartington Morris Men, dartingtonmorrismen.org.uk/john-ogaunt-and-chaucer.

Klinck, A. L. 'Anglo-Saxon Women and the Law', Journal of Medieval History, 8.2 (1982), 107–21 (p. 111); doi:10.1016/0304-4181(82)90043-4

Lee, BS. "Exploitation and Excommunication In 'The Wife of Bath's Tale.'." Philological Quarterly. 74.1 (1995): 17. Web.

McDougall, Sara (2013). "Women and Gender in Canon Law". In Judith Bennett and Ruth Mazo Karras (eds.). Oxford Handbook of Women and Gender in Medieval Europe. Oxford: Oxford University Press. pp. 163–178. ISBN 978-0-19-958217-4.

Millar, Abi. “How Cheating Affects Your Health and Sex Life.” Patient.info, 17 Nov. 2017, patient.info/news-and-features/how-an-affair-affects-your-sexual-and-mental-health.

Pearsall, Derek. The Life of Geoffrey Chaucer (1990), Pp, www.umsl.edu/~gradyf/chaucer/cecily.htm.

R. M. Lumiansky. “Chaucer and the Idea of Unfaithful Men.” Modern Language Notes, vol. 62, no. 8, 1947, p. 560. EBSCOhost, doi:10.2307/2908623.

Schaus, Margaret C., ed. (2006). Women and gender in medieval Europe: an encyclopedia. Routledge. ISBN 978-0415969444.

Schwartz, Larry, and AlterNet. “8 Horrific 'Cures' for Mental Illness Through the Ages.” Alternet.org, 26 Dec. 2014, www.alternet.org/2014/12/8-horrific-cures-mental-illness-through-ages/.

The Editors of Encyclopaedia Britannica. “Bedlam.” Encyclopædia Britannica, Encyclopædia Britannica, Inc., 13 Sept. 2013, www.britannica.com/topic/Bedlam.

Thorpe, JR. “9 Bizarre Medieval Punishments.” Bustle, Bustle, 28 May 2015, www.bustle.com/articles/86247-9-bizarre-medieval-punishments-from-wearing-a-bridle-to-suffocating-under-mud.

Weinstein, Jeremy D. 'Adultery, Law, and the State: A History', Hastings Law Journal, 38.1 (1986), 195-238.

Woolston, Chris. “Writing for Therapy Helps Erase Effects of Trauma.” CNN.com - Writing for Therapy Helps Erase Effects of Trauma - March 16, 2000, 16 Mar. 2000, web.archive.org/web/20041120093458/archives.cnn.com/2000/HEALTH/03/16/health.writing.wmd/.

#essay #essay and formal #canterbury tales #writing #formal writing

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memozing · 4 years

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#news

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rebuildhq · 7 years

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We shall create a new world order, for ourselves.

The government had promised a new beginning, swore that the Panel would begin anew, dedicated to the safety of superheroes and citizens alike. They claimed that New York’s streets would be cleaned, its buildings rebuilt, and the war forgotten. Rather than being spurred to action by the sudden disappearance of the Syndicate, they allegedly sat inside a small boardroom at an undisclosed location, discussing who could head their new organization, and what it would consist of.

Rather than learn from their past mistakes regarding rules and regulations, they filled pages upon pages of clauses, a lawyer nodding along in a corner, looking ecstatic.

“They must withstand tests to deduce their strength, speed, coordination and problem solving,” said one board member, looking pleased with himself.

It was then that three women entered the room, all familiar to the Panel members. The men wore mirrored expressions of shock, rattled by their mere appearance. They made a point of understanding their resources, Maria Hill was a master spy, Fury’s right hand woman, Jessica Drew was the infamous Spider-Woman, wielding venom blasts and perfecting allegedly impossible missions, and Mockingbird was a super-soldier, and a genius, having designed the serum herself.

Together, they ran the branch responsible for counterterrorism, ensuring their public was safety from any superpowered threats.

Together, they had stormed their boardroom.

Together, they levelled thinly veiled threats, and rewrote the rules for themselves, forcing each man in their own unique way to sign away his piece of the Panel in their names.

Simultaneously, each program was interrupted across New York, informing its citizens of breaking news. Some quickly turned off their TVs, unable to withstand any more horrific news, while others flipped to the required channel with rapt attention.

Before them stood a frail woman, her eyes wide, as she addressed her city, “We’ve just received news that the Panel has been taken over. An inside source claimed that three woman stormed their office, and have now taken control…” she trailed off, her eyes darting up there. “We’re just received word that there were no casualties or injuries in the process, but the Accords will never be the same.”

She paused again, putting a hand to her ear piece. Straightening, she feigned confidence, the composure of a newscaster with years of experience, rehashing tales of war and peace alike. “The women have released just released a statement confirming their identities and their intentions. We have the exclusive here. Dave, please show the public what they have said.”

An image flashed before the screen, unveiling the following:

Fellow Americans,

We understand that you’re worried for your safety. The Panel has caused a lot of pain, and it was beside the abuse of the people you idolize, some might be neighbours, some might be your children, but we assure you, this is a turning point. Together, we’ve rewritten the contract, allowing the heroes to keep their freedom if they choose to sign. We intend to operate as a team with no further military operation backing us.

We’ll be working in tandem with the Avengers and the Justice League and whoever else has plans to assist us. We’re on your side, we’re on your friends and families side, and we no longer tolerate any fear mongering.

Heroes identities, privacy, and freedom will be respected. The Accords are no longer means to control, but to help our planet thrive in the face of threats our security aren’t able to contain. With the discovery of aliens infiltrating our own government, we need to be united. Allow us to make this change, support those with the power to aid you, and encourage each and every person you know to take a stand against the corruption we face every single day.

Have a safe night,

Sincerely,

Mockingbird, Maria Hill and Spider-Woman

As the message finished filling the screens, the news anchor was revealed again, a relieved smile upon her face. There was a softness in her gaze as she addressed the camera this time, “There you have it, everybody. The Panel is no longer being controlled by our government, but by the heroes themselves. I understand that might frighten some of you, but our city is truly turning over a new leaf. Goodnight, New York City.”

_______________________________________________________________________

The room was crowded, filled to the brim with Skrulls both in their natural green form and already disguised as humans. In the front of the room stood a woman, dark hair covering her face partially. She wore a red outfit easily recognizable as the costume of Spider-Woman, and to the outer eye, that was who she was.

It would take Veranke time to get used to seeing this face in the mirror, she knew. She wasn’t accustomed to it yet. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever like it, even when she was more familiar with its features. She had never wanted to hide who she was, never wanted to conceal herself as something she wasn’t. Still, it was necessary. And using Jessica Drew would give her power. The woman was an Avenger, close to many of the world’s heroes who Veranke feared would cause them trouble later on. This way, she could learn of their plans before they were put into action. This way, she could fight back.

Straightening, Veranke cleared her throat, gathering the attention of room’s occupants. Instantly, a hush fell over the crowd. All eyes focused on the woman in front of the room; all attention was turned towards the queen. Veranke smiled at them, doing her best to look like the woman they all trusted despite the fact that her outward appearance had changed.

“When we predicted the end of Skrullos, we were laughed at,” she said, voice projecting throughout the room. “We faced ridicule, discrimination, and disbelief. When we were proven right, we received no pride in our victory. We lost our home, watched many of our own people die, and we were left isolated and desolate.” A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd, and a few of the faces within her line of vision showed wide ranges of emotion. Anger, grief, desperation, all of it intensely relatable. No one knew the Skrulls’ pain the way Veranke herself did. She had suffered for her people, and though they loved her for it, the pain remained.

Running a hand through her hair, the queen continued. “If not for the help of others, we would have remained that way until our kind was wiped out entirely. We would have faded into nothingness on a world that would never have been our own. Never forget that we did not get to where we are on our own.” Without the help of Amora, without the portal she had opened for them, the Skrulls would have been lost. It was important that Veranke make her people remember that so when the time came, they would be willing to help her repay the favor. Veranke did not know what the Enchantress would ask for in return, but they needed to be willing to give it. They had to earn their place here, and Veranke intended to do it.

Pausing, Veranke looked over the crowd once more. They were intent, their eyes focused entirely on her and their postures rigid and at attention. They hung on her every word, waiting in bated breath for what she would say next. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy it. Veranke loved her people, but she loved the attention and respect they awarded her as well. She loved knowing that she was believed in, and she’d do anything to keep that faith. “You all know what we must do. This planet is vast, but it is not big enough to house our kind alongside the humans. Even if it were, they would not take to us kindly. They would treat us as second class citizens, hating us for our differences. You’ve seen how they react to even their own kind who are slightly different than the perceived norm. The way they treat their mutants, their inhumans, their metahumans and powered individuals will be considered a kindness compared to how they will treat us if we attempt to exist alongside them. If we want this planet, we must take it.”

Another murmur, low and uncertain but ultimately in agreement with Veranke’s statement. They’d observed Earth, after all, put one of their own in a powerful position to prepare for their arrival, and they’d seen the way humanity treated one another. They’d seen one of their own ruthlessly murdered because of the opinions he (and, of course, the man he’d initially replaced) expressed. They could not risk such a thing happening again.

“This will not be easy. They have many heroes who will wish to oppose us, many people with abilities who will use their power against us. If we want this planet for our own, if we want to survive, we need to take it quietly. We need to seize this world while their backs are turned. The invasion has already begun. Many of you here today are already in position in several places that will be useful to us later on. SHIELD, HYDRA, governments, police forces, these are all important groups to infiltrate. We still need more. We’ll be placing Skrulls in various positions among powered individuals. Avengers, X-Men, Justice League, the Brotherhood… We’ll need eyes on the inside of every one of these groups if we wish to make our plan succeed. I won’t lie to you; these positions will be among the most dangerous. This is why I myself have volunteered for one. I would not ask any of you to do anything that I myself am not willing to attempt. I won’t draft anyone into these groups. I need volunteers, people willing to lay down their lives so their people might live.”

Instantly, she saw faces steel, saw eyes harden and mouths draw into thin lines. She would have little issue getting Skrulls to take these positions. They were all eager to help their kind, eager to help the race survive even at the cost of their individual lives. Veranke felt a wave of pride wash over her at the knowledge.

“I will be accepting volunteers shortly, and I have a list of potential humans to be replaced on each team. I will allow you to choose your position if you have a preference. Thank you for your time and your attention. I know this is happening very quickly, but remember that it will be worth it in the end. Remember that we are right. He loves us.”

_______________________________________________________________________

WHAT HAS HAPPENED:

Jessica Drew was attacked, a staged operation by the Skrulls, the beginning stage of their plan for world domination. Veranke, the Skrull Queen, disguised herself as Jessica Drew and took over her identity.

Bobbi Morse and Maria Hill, accompanied by Veranke, disguised as Jessica Drew, infiltrated the Panel and forced its operator's hands to give them control. Together, they’ve pledged to the public a promise of a better future, filled with new rules (or lack thereof) for the heroes to band together in the face of the new alien threat against their planet.

After infiltrating the Panel, ensuring that Jessica had a front row seat in knowing both the Avengers’ and the registered heroes’ plans, Veranke addressed her people, calling them to arms. Together, the Skrulls will begin anew, starting with taking over their trusted leaders’ bodies.

WHAT YOU CAN DO:

You may be allowed to have your character taken over by Skrulls IF you message the main first with a thorough plan about what you intend to do. This is a major arc, and we expect our members to be dedicated to it! Your character’s natural form will be imprisoned, although they will not be killed. They may still act the same due to the fact that Skrulls have access to their memories, ensuring a natural manner.

WHAT YOU CANNOT DO:

Godmod! We understand that you know Veranke is Jessica, for example, but your characters don’t! Same with future players that have been taken over by Skrulls. Eventually, the plot with get to that point, but it takes time.

We love you and all and we truly trust that you all won’t interfere with any players arcs. Now, without further ado, let’s get to prompts!

PROMPTS:

Thanks to promise of the new Panel, Character A may want to sign! They had all the freedom in the world to act as their own entity, our heroes have just made it so they’re a team, working together against future threats. Character B may support this choice or dispute it, depending on their viewpoint.

Character A has already signed, but wants to get more involved thanks to the promise of a benign organization. Character B helps them with that quest, giving them duties and assigning differents tasks. (For a registered hero + one of the new leaders, preferably!)

Character A and B get into an altercation set up by the Skrulls and barely make it out (one may not, should you choose to discuss having them Skrulled with us!) This would be a grisly fight, due to the fact that they’re extremely intelligent beings, and fully intend on imprisoning your characters.

Character A has been captured by the Skrulls, unbeknownst to them, due to their human forms. Character B saves them in the nick of them, but unfortunately learns little about their new alien enemy.

**We understand that this is brand new terrain we’re embarking on. If anything is unclear, please message the main! We’re here to make this a wonderful experience for you all.

Now, get to plotting! The alien invasion is only beginning.

#rebuildadmin #rebuildplotdrop

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random-xpressions · 5 years

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Swearing allegiance to a free world!

Best things in life come free. Let's get back to our origin. When you first stepped into the earth - it was your mother that welcomed you in her loving arms, pressing you against her bosom, giving you all the love and warmth that was needed for your growth.

To imagine a world that's run by the currency of love may sound too far-fetched in the current circumstances where everything is dictated by money. But let's break the norm.

A whole lot of services that's being exorbitantly billed to a layman must come totally free like education and medical treatments to start with. Look deeper, these are basic amenities that every human on earth deserves without any prequalification needed to enjoy it.

This is not even a subject of the age old debate between capitalism and socialism but at the core of discussion is to understand that the ultimate cause of all the human suffering arises when the motive of human endeavour is not love but greed.

So the next obvious question of the rationalistic mind is - you work for free? And with all due respect to this thought factor stemming from the ideology of "money matters" - let me pose a counter question: why not?

Not every human effort needs to be commercialized. In fact, if you think about it, the reason for such miserable condition arose only when things got commercialized. Do you think some fiat currency of the world will ever be able to appreciate the efforts of a fireman that extinguished a building that was set ablaze thereby saving hundreds of human lives? Such a heroic effort can never be paid back even in a truck load full of gold. Any human effort or activity that's done purely with the motive to save humanity can never be exchanged with any amount of wealth or paper currency. The very human appreciation and heart felt gratitude and prayers and the joy and smiles that comes from those hundred families is the only token of true gift that a brave firefighter deserves.

This being just one case. Take any human effort for that matter. Let's take up the case of farmers - unfortunately one of the worst struck class of the globe today. Do you ever imagine that one handful of rice or wheat can ever be paid the price it deserves? Its fighting your hunger. Its feeding your body without which your survival is impossible. Perhaps to understand the true price of a bowl of soup - one must ask impoverished children of the third world african countries - where for survival, they are compelled to consume animal remains!

Let's face it. This is the reality of the world we live in where economic differences have reached its worst ever limit wherein the world wealth is accumulated in the hands of a few while the world at large is enslaved to this derogatory financial system.

No, our battle is not against a revival in the financial world, nor is the effort centered on bringing about a change in the economy. We are no longer fools to replace one world dominant currency with another fiat currency nor to replace one economic system with a better economic system.

We need to wipe out the very idea of money from our system. And not the external system at first but our very internal psyche. Human existence must not be driven by the goal of any materialistic return. Tangible accumulation should not be the cause behind human efforts. You don't choose a career that's most paid. You choose a way of life that addresses the most pressing needs of humanity and you devote yourself to it headlong without counting what you get in terms of remuneration or packages. Fattening your purse to indulge must not be what gives you satisfaction. When you eventually depart this world, your legacy must say it loud - that you left it better than the way it was when you came.

Join hands. Build in groups of four. Be the next big think tanks of your town. Think globally. Act locally. See what you can do to change the current mindset of people. Stick together. Always remember. United we stand, divided we fall.

The age old legendary tale wherein an ageing father in his death bed called all his ten sons who were to inherit his vast empire. And gave the illustrative example showing the need to remain together. He asked for a bunch of ten wooden sticks to be brought and tied them tightly with a rope and asked them to break it. None of them were able to do it. He then asked them to untie the rope and to break them one by one individually and they could break the wooden stick with ease.

Moral of the story is obvious. We are fighting a system that's as big as the shark in the sea. Not by force, but by wits. Not alone, but by the collective strength.

Let's take an oath to make it a free world where the society runs by the dictate of human service and love and not by the greed to amass wealth by over riding the basic rights of a fellow being.

#revolution #free world

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kairiofknives · 7 years

Text

(Makin’) Baby Steps (Part 1)

Summary: "Following June's incredibly unfortunate and inaccurate sex scandal, the topic of Futaba and Akira's supposed sex life disappeared from everyone's minds, all parties quite content to let that chapter close. Well, all minds, except Futaba's. Akira had promised that if she wanted to pursue a sexual relationship with him, he would assist her in any way she found useful until she comfortably got to that end goal. When her mother first devised the idea of a promise list, it was intended to be a method of encouraging change and personal growth in small, hopefully successful steps. She would probably be rolling over in her grave if she knew Futaba was using her technique to get laid."

Following the events of The S Word (Tales from the Thieve's Guild chapter 2), Futaba decides to start her journey towards battling her lingering inner demons to feel comfortable in her own skin as well as feel safe in a physical relationship with Akira. The path is rocky and sometimes painful, but oh so rewarding.

Can be read as a stand alone.

Warning: Discussion of body insecurity and sexual themes

Read on AO3

Following June's incredibly unfortunate and inaccurate sex scandal, the topic of Futaba and Akira's supposed sex life disappeared from everyone's minds, all parties quite content to let that chapter close. Well, all minds, except Futaba's. Akira had promised that if she wanted to pursue a sexual relationship with him, he would assist her in any way she found useful until she comfortably got to that end goal. When her mother first devised the idea of a promise list, it was intended to be a method of encouraging change and personal growth in small, hopefully successful steps.

She would probably be rolling over in her grave if she knew Futaba was using her technique to get laid.

It wasn't as simple as that though. Futaba knew her time in isolation and struggles with PTSD had made her incredibly uncomfortable with not only the outside world, but also herself. If she wanted to one day be comfortable enough in herself to make love to her partner, she had to first get used to the body she was born into. There were a myriad of parts she didn't exactly like. Her boobs were too small, her legs too thin, her hips too boxy and not curvy enough. The first few items on her 'Sexy Timez Promise List' were stare at your faults in the mirror and be naked often.

Even just reading the items made her stomach turn uncomfortably, but she couldn't let that stop her. She would have never gone outside her room if she wasn't being pushed, she recalled. And look at her now: a proper second year in high school who could ride crowded train and shop in Akiba all by herself. Just because that push was coming from herself now rather than someone else shouldn't change anything.

Ideally anyway. Her first pass at trying to look at herself naked was an utter disaster. It was barely even five minutes of poking and prodding at her own skin until she was sobbing hysterically, at the great despair of poor Sojiro who was locked out of the room and thus couldn't come to her aid. The next afternoon, as she laid in the comforting circle of Akira's arms on the living room couch, she sought the expert advice of Akira, Ann and Makoto.

"Maybe you just need to do that over and over. 5 minutes yesterday. 10 minutes today. So on and so forth until you conquer this," Makoto suggested, sounding uncharacteristically unsure of her own advice.

"Um, no offense Makoto," Ann piped in, "But I would rather die than do that. And it's not even my issue! That could work, but as a first step it seems waaay too harsh."

Akira nodded, brushing his fingers softly through Futaba's hair. "I agree. Too much risk of discouraging you, Futaba. We probably just have to come at it from a different angle."

"Maybe she could start going to the bathhouse more often! Introducing any amount of casual nudity into her routine might make it less of a big deal," Ann suggested.

"That isn't a bad idea," Futaba admitted. "It's just not free, so I wouldn't be able to do it too often."

Akira brought a hand up to his fringe, twirling it in thought, "And it doesn't directly tackle the idea of looking at yourself naked either." The black haired boy pondered the issue for a moment, then fixated his gaze elsewhere. "Yusuke! Could you come here for a second?"

The lanky man looked up from his sketch book, where he had been leisurely profiling Morgana, fast asleep on his favorite arm chair. "But of course."

Futaba looked up at Akira skeptically. The boy merely kissed her forehead. "Yusuke, you've painted nude models before, yeah?"

"Of course. We have had many volunteer to help our art classes at Kosei."

"Did you know of any strategies they used to look comfortable sitting in front of that many people while nude?"

Ah. So that was his angle. Not a bad one, Futaba had to admit. Nude models had a lot of guts just bearing themselves to others, but they also had to look natural while doing it. There had to be some models that weren't naturally ok with that.

"Actually, we very rarely have models come sit in our classes anymore. So few people are comfortable enough with the environment that it is almost useless to experienced artists. We rather have them relax nude in their own homes with several cameras set to film them. That way, we can witness the human form at its most vulnerable and relaxed and not have to waste the subject's time. Every individual can pause the footage when they find their perfect angle and re-watch as many times as they choose."

Ann blinked. "There has to be some getting used to that too though right?"

Yusuke hummed. "Surely. But we simply account for that by deleting the first half an hour of footage. Usually, if the subject is watching a movie or reading, they relax by that point."

"And...do you think that footage is... representative of the subject?" Futaba fiddled with the hem of her shorts. She swallowed harshly. "Like. You know how pictures look different than the mirror which looks different than looking in person? How does video...?"

"Ah." Yusuke nodded sagely. "It is slightly different than looking at someone in person, but it also offers a different perspective that I think might even be better. The human body sits differently depending on what it's doing. The video gives glimpses at multiple different stances and even sometimes emotions. The lines of your back can go from smooth and circular to firm and rigid if you become angry or upset. The tensing of the abdominal muscles fades away when someone finds a more comfortable position to sit in often times. It is truly interesting."

Futaba nodded, considering. Perhaps part of the issue with her looking in the mirror was that she was uncomfortable even before she looked. Her body language would have been rigid and strained in a situation like that. If she was looking at a frightened naked person, of course she wouldn't enjoy what she saw. Maybe it would suck just as bad this way. But, maybe it would be better. She wouldn't know until she tried.

"Do you happen to have a camera, Inari?"

~~~

It all came down to this. Getting a video recording of her without her completely spazzing out had not been a one time attempt. The first two times, she just ignored the movie she put on and fidgeted uncomfortably for two hours. Then, Morgana had proposed the idea of Akira talking to her on the phone. It had worked a lot better, but she ended up pacing a lot, which Yusuke admitted would be interesting but perhaps not the best for a first pass at this. She didn't delete that video, but didn't watch it either. Finally, they had managed to get a solid recording of her playing a computer game with Akira. Haru and Makoto had gone through the footage and cut a 25 minute portion where Futaba evidently didn't seem to even realize she was being filmed. Now, she had the USB drive with the video plugged into her computer, a box of tissues by her desk, and Akira chilling in the living room of Sojiro's house just in case she had another panic attack. All of her bases were covered. All that remained was to watch the video.

Her chest ached already. A part of her wished she had asked Haru and Makoto to describe how she looked. Or had asked Ann for her professional opinion from their many shopping trips. It was scary; her mind could easily rip whatever she saw to shreds at a moment's glance and she would have absolutely no points of reference with which to counteract the viscous negative thoughts. It was hard to even imagine this going well.

Still, she couldn't just give up. Futaba took a deep breath, released it slowly, then clicked play.

The film cut in to a scene of Futaba, naked as the day she was born, slumped down in her chair, game controller firmly in her hands. She felt her bottom lip start to quiver. How could anyone possibly love that? Her posture was terrible. Shoulder's hunched tense around her scrunched up neck, a pout firmly on her face. The video version of her's legs were rim rod straight, balanced on the foot rest under her desk. The angle of her slump made her stomach press into little rolls that her boobs could almost touch because of how caved in her torso was compared to her waist. Her pubic hairs looked way dark in the image on her screen, untrimmed and completely unsexy. What sane human being would ever find her attractive? Tears gathered in the corner of her eyes and she squeezed them shut, rotating her chair away from the screen. She couldn't do this.

Shaking, she pressed her palms against her eyes. God, she had been so freaking stupid. One dark, twisted train of thought whispered that Makoto and Haru had done this on purpose. They thought she was gross, that she deserved to suffer. No, she reasoned. No matter how down in the dumps she got about herself, she couldn't convince herself those girls, who had always put so much time and energy into helping her whenever she asked, would do anything to hurt her. They wouldn't lie to her. But, then, why had they said this part was fine? How could that mess be considered fine? She sniffled.

"Oh shit! Crap crap crap! Akira, move!"

She froze, blinking. The video had sound? Slowly, she turned her gaze back to her computer screen. Video Futaba had sprung up, legs now curled underneath her and bottom lip caught firmly between her teeth. Her back was as straight as a board and her eyes, even through the slight gleam from the screen on her glasses, were hyper focused on the game. This position made her breasts stick out, she thought. They looked perkier like this, more cone-like and less round. Still, she could admit that they didn't look nearly as weird as they did in the last position. Still not good, but less bad. The image once again started to blur with frustrated tears when something in the game cause her video self to cry out excitedly, wiggling her hips excitedly. Futaba couldn't help but scoff a bit. She looked like a weird mix between a dolphin and a snake when she did that. The lines of her stomach rolled so easily with the movement of her hips though. Almost like water. No belly dancer would ever commend her for it, but it was pretty interesting to watch. The gyrating made her breasts bounce a bit. She found herself watching in some amount of fascination at the way her nipples seemed to never follow the same path twice, even though her side to side motion didn't seem to differ much. Weird.

Then, they must have beat the boss they were fighting, because her film representation leaped from her chair with a joyous cry. Her celebratory dance gave her a perfect view of her own butt for a moment. She had always pictured it as being flat, but looking at it now, it wasn't quite an accurate description. Her ass wasn't huge, but compared to the size of her hips and thighs it was actually decently shaped. There was a definite curve there, which jiggled as she hopped about. Two little dimples existed just above the curve of her ass, which she had actually never noticed before. When the Futaba on the tape turned around to face her computer again, she gazed at all the places she was critical of earlier. It was quite thought provoking, really. When she was just seeing them as parts of her body, she didn't like them. But, as she looked at the grinning young woman before her, the full image was...fine. None of the body parts seemed out of place or unfit. Everything was...proportional, if nothing else. Her boobs were kinda small, but honestly, she was kinda small too. Futaba couldn't yet say that she liked what she saw. However, she could also no longer say she hated it. Because there were parts that she didn't mind looking at. And the parts that looked odd in one positioning of her body often looked much better in another.

"Oh man. I wish I were over there so I could kiss that smug grin right off your handsome face. You prick."

Futaba's eyes widened a bit. How many times had she gazed upon Akira's face as he flirted with her? She could picture almost perfectly how his gray eyes darkened playfully, the curve of his lips when he smirked, how the blood would gather in his cheeks and the tips of his ears when he blushed. Every part of Akira flirting with her was burning into her memory like a brand. But her flirting with Akira? She'd never seen that before. She wasn't a waterfall of pure sex appeal like Akira, that was for sure. But, some things caught her eye. She had her nose tipped up, just a little bit, and it made the smile on her face seem so much cockier that it almost made her laugh. She was balancing her weight on her elbows, propped up on the desk. Her chin rested on one hand, whereas the other drew aimless circles on the desk. The flush on her cheeks didn't stop on her face, traveling down her neck to the top of her chest as well. No wonder her whole body felt like it was burning up when she was embarrassed. The line of her spine was relaxed, almost like she was melting towards the screen. Futaba watched herself giggle at some response Akira made, her lips stretching so hard into the smile she could feel her own cheeks burn. The brown eyes looked almost purple in this lighting, flickering back and forth quickly, forming a clever response to throw back at Akira. The best part, though, was the way her eyes sparkled. It made her own eyes start to water once more, but not from disgust this time.

She had been so happy. Even if you couldn't hear the jovial tone of voice, even if you missed out on the flirtatious conversation, the elation she was feeling in that moment was evident in most parts of her body. The way her body curled towards the screen, wanting to get closer to the source of her amusement. The way her hips and chest pressed out proudly despite her lack of clothes, unconcerned for modesty in spite of her insecurities. Her rosy cheeks and twinkling eyes highlighting the carefree smile. No, the image before her was not perverse, nor did she find it conventionally attractive. Yet, as she watched herself converse with the love of her life, she couldn't deny that there was something beautiful about this girl.

The screen eventually went black, the video reaching its end. Had it truly been 25 minutes? Futaba's hand hovered over her mouse, tempted to replay the video, if only the very ending part. She then cast her eyes at the full length mirror in her room. Standing, she shrugged her shirt off, then undid her bra. She bent over to slide her sleep shorts and underwear down her legs before finally straightening up and meeting her own eyes in the mirror. This time, she searched for traces of the girl from the video in herself. It wasn't completely easy. Her red rimmed eyes and splotched face were almost enough to call this whole thing off. But, she didn't. She gazed at the hips that were slightly boxy, but that transitioned smoothly into the sides of her stomach. At her breasts, which were more than enough for her small hands to cup fully. Turning to the side, she found those two dimples right above her butt and ran her fingers over them. This body was the same as from the video. All it was missing was that sense of happiness. Sighing to herself, she pulled her clothes back on. She wasn't going to find that happiness here, with just her and her mirror. The awful feeling was still in the pit of her stomach from the time spent staring at her reflection. Her problem wasn't solved per se.

But, she did feel a hundred times better.

Futaba's feet carried her down the hall and into the living room, where Akira looked up from his book, eyes curious. She shuffled towards him and crawled carefully into his lap. The churning of her tummy was soothed by the easy way he shifted to accommodate her. His lips pressed to her forehead for a moment, before he returned to his reading. He was letting her choose to talk about it or not.

She felt Sojiro lingering near the kitchen, his anxiety palpable from her spot. She smiled a bit. "I watched it."

"Yeah?" Sojiro asked, as awkwardly as could be expected from him. "And, uh...how are you feeling?"

"A bit better. I think I just need to get used to it. But, it's not awful."

She felt Akira smile against her temple, nudging her with his nose a bit. Sojiro let out a relieved sigh. "Well, that. That's good. Huh?" He laughed breathlessly. "I'm sorry I can't help more with this, kiddo. This is probably more of a mom type of problem."

Futaba considered that for a moment, then shook her head. "I don't think mom would have known what to do either," she admitted. "You're already helping a lot, anyway. Thanks, Dad."

When she stopped by the Guild the next day, she made a point of hugging the ever loving hell out of Yusuke. As confused as he pretended to be by the 'unusually and unnecessary physical affection', she knew her Inari was secretly happy as well. She spent the next month trying to be naked as often as she could. She went to the bathhouse near LeBlanc and even went to the spa a few times with Ann, Makoto and Haru. A girls' day, so they said. Ann took her shopping for nice underwear, which Haru paid for even though Futaba swore time and time again it wasn't necessary. Still, she was glad she went. She and Ann had both gasped when they saw this black and green lacy push up and bikini panties combo on her. That had been the first time she honestly used the word "sexy" to describe herself. Whenever she was back at Sojiro's at a reasonable hour, she'd linger in her room naked and do any number of things: homework, video games, hacking into the police academy website to get median accepted test scores for Makoto.

Sometime at the end of August, she had just gotten out of the shower when she caught her reflection in the mirror. It didn't even cross her mind to be worried when she dropped her towel to the ground. She stared herself down for a good few minutes, turning to inspect her backside, moving her wet hair aside so she could properly look at her chest. She kept waiting for that flood of self doubt and disgust, but it never came. Victorious, her first step was to call Akira, reveling in the proud cadence of his voice as he praised her hard work and diligence. That night, she fell asleep in her bed without her clothes on and discovered that she enjoyed the feeling of sheets against her bare skin. The next morning, she checked stare at your faults in the mirror and be naked often off her list.

~x~x~x~

Akira had been dating Futaba for a year and a half before this whole promise list thing started, so he liked to think he had a decently solid understanding of her as a person. She preferred being indoors to outdoors, loved video games and cup ramen, could go from shy and quiet to in your face and loud in a heartbeat, would do anything to help her friends (as long as she thought it was her place to help or had been asked), curled into his body like her own personal heating pad whenever they slept together, and was almost never the one to instigate physical intimacy. He knew that last trait was due to the insecurities she was working through, and he wanted more than anything for her to successfully overcome them. So, he had zero problems taking the wheel on their physical relationship. It cost his absolutely nothing to kiss her first or wrap her in a hug. She was always very receptive, too. One day, he had hoped that she would be able to make those moves herself. He was prepared to settle in to wait it out until that time came.

What he wasn't prepared for was the drastic increase in confidence her efforts thus far had produced.

While he was definitely aware of all the body positivity training Futaba had been doing with the other girls, Akira was also aware that Futaba started working on her list in late July. It was just now the beginning of September. The young hacker was a genius, no doubt about that, but he knew the hard way that opinions don't tend to change easily, let alone in less than two months. Especially not when they were remnants of your own cognitive distortions. Realistically, it would be another couple of months at least until any real change popped up.

Futaba Sakura was not the kind of girl to be ruled by other people's assumptions.

They had been invited to a party, hosted by Mishima. Evidently, he had been accepted into a very prestigious business and marketing internship and his friends wanted to celebrate the occasion. His friends were not exactly the type of people Akira assumed Mishima would chill with in university. They were big drinkers, big talkers, but overall super sweet guys. Thus, showing up to a party where the booze was flowing and music was loud was not expected and certainly not what he and Futaba had agreed to. Quiet get together my ass, Ryuji, he grumbled to himself. The plan was to say hi to Mishima and then ask Futaba if she wanted to leave. By the time they tracked down Mishima, Akira noticed that Futaba's eyes were much more eagerly scanning the house than the crowd. She was planning something.

"Hey, Phanboy!" Ryuji called, already half a beer in.

Mishima turned, grinning. "Yo! So glad you all could make it!"

They exchanged hugs and Mishima introduced the former Thieves to a group of his friends. Akira noticed that Ryuji and Ann were huddled next to each other, whispering back and forth while staring into the group of bodies on the "dance floor", in the living room. He made a mental note to ask Ryuji about it later. Before he could rejoin the conversation with Mishima, a triad of girls sidled up next to him.

"Wow, we don't see guys like you every day," a young woman with dark brown hair and red highlights cooed.

Another girl, dyed blond with an oversaturation of cherry red lipstick agreed, "The guys we chill with are cool, but not nearly as nice to look at."

Akira barely withheld a sigh. Instead, he smiled politely, "I'm flattered, really. I'm just here to congratulate Mishima though."

The final girl, seemingly the ring leader of the group, shook her head. "Well now. If a guy like boring old Yuuki could make nice with a catch like you, maybe he's a bit more worth our time than I thought, huh, girls?" The other two giggled, leering at him sensually.

This had to be a joke. Something out of one of Ann's romcom's. He wasn't a praying man, especially not after he literally landed a headshot on a God, but if this was how girls at university could be, he prayed for the health and well being of all poor unsuspecting single men. "Um...look," he started, trying to find a way to say 'get the hell away from me' without sound like a jerk.

"Hey, babe," a familiar voice called out to him, sliding under his arm so it wrapped around her shoulders. "Sorry, I got distracted by the alarmingly high levels of testosterone over by the ping pong table. Are you going to introduce me to your friends?" Akira blinked. How was this woman and what had she done with Futaba? He noticed that their situation had been noticed by quite a few people. Not only was their entire friend group and Mishima now watching, but so were the rowdy boys in the kitchen.

The Ring Leader quirked an eyebrow, unamused. "Oh, sweety. It's nice of you to protect your friend and all, but no one in the right mind would believe that you're his girlfriend. Maybe pick a different lie to pull."

Well, Akira was officially pissed. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Futaba's laugh. "You're a hoot, really. Alright, here, hold on." Futaba paused to dig through her purse. When she found what she was looking for, she held it out to the girls. It was an American dime she had gotten from her class trip to New York. "Here. This should cover you three and nine more of your friends, you dime-a-dozen bimbos. Oh wait, you probably don't recognize the phrase. English is a bit advanced for girls like you, huh?"

The look on the girls' faces was absolutely priceless. Before they had a chance to recover, Akira smirked and drawled gently to Futaba, "Now, now, darling. No need to tear them to shreds. Isn't their fault they can't take a hint." He turned to the red faced Ring Leader. "Sorry, I'm a bit occupied at the moment. As well as generally uninterested in what you have to offer. Lovely meeting you, ladies." As he started to lead a grinning Futaba away, a loud commotion of mocking and incredulous screams (at least one of them was surely Ryuji's voice) followed them as they slipped out of the main room and up the stairs. He quickly yanked open the nearest door. It was unoccupied. Perfect. He tugged Futaba into the room and shut the door behind him, leaning on it.

There were a lot of things he wanted to say. Ask her how she was feeling, if she wanted to leave, even commend her on her general savagery. He didn't have time to say any of those before Futaba's body tackled his own against the door and pulled his lips down to hers hungrily. Anything he could have said disappeared, as did every single thought exempt how marvelously her lips felt against his and how hot for her he was.

"Those girls wanted you," she broke away to gasp, not fighting him in the least when he pulled her back in for another scorching kiss. They broke for air once more. "They wanted you all to themselves. But you know what? They can't have you." Akira swallowed heavily, panting. Futaba kissed a path up his neck and nibbled on his earlobe. She whispered fiercely right into his ear, "Cuz you're mine."

Oh god, he had never been so hard in his freaking life.

With a desperate whine, Akira drew Futaba's mouth back to his own. Their mouths opened immediately, deepening their kiss, tongues seeking each other out. Heady groans, grunts, and their hurried breathing filled the room, loud despite the blasting music from downstairs. Akira could barely even tell there was music. His mind was so pin point focused on Futaba it was making his head spin. The girl pulled off of him and immediately grabbed at his shirt, lifting it up and around his armpits. "Off," she hissed. He could only obey. Once the fabric had hit the floor, Futaba's hands made great strides examining the newly revealed skin. Her hands wandered his abs, nails dragged just enough to sting up his back, and two deft fingers rolled one of his nipples between them, forcing a needy moan from him. He could taste the girl's self-satisfied smirk.

She turned her attention to his neck, biting down hard and sucking. His hands tightened around her waist and he panted, unable to deny her the pleasure of giving him a hickey. The redhead's nips and licks wandered south, to his collarbone. Akira had never considered his nipples to be particularly sensitive, but when Futaba's clever mouth wrapped itself one, teasing it with her tongue, he swore he almost came right then and there. Luckily, or unlikely, his phone lit up, ringtone blaring, before they could get any further. They pulled away, each panting heavily. Akira rose his phone to his mouth and didn't even pretend to hide how wrecked he sounded, "Yeah?"

"Holy shit dude," Ryuji must have pulled away from the phone to say 'I told you they were necking somewhere' to someone, though he really didn't care who. "Anyway, we were about to get the hell out of here. You two coming with or...?"

Futaba nodded, handing him his shirt. She ran her fingers through her hair once or twice, though the effort to look presentable would doubtfully be effective.

"Yeah. Meet you out by the street."

It was probably a sight to behold, the two of them walking down the stairs, hands linked and obviously well kissed and satisfied. The amused grin on Futaba's face was gorgeous and he suddenly mourned the fact that she was taking the train directly to Sojiro's after this. Akira made eye contact with the girls from earlier as they headed towards the door, who were every combination of shocked, disgusted and pissed off. He waved and smiled pleasantly, feigning innocence. As they made their way to their friends, Ryuji gleefully threw an arm around Akira's shoulder. Ann made a point of high-fiving Futaba while Haru giggled. It wasn't until they were a block down the street that Yusuke serenely observed, "Akira, your shirt is on backwards." When Futaba got home that evening, she proudly informed him that both see the boyfriend shirtless and make out with shirtless Akira were checked off of that list of hers.

Following their tryst, Akira found that Futaba's spike in confidence wasn't just a one time thing. Whether they were in public, on the living room couch, or just in The Den, Futaba started delivering a healthy dose of kisses, hugs and cuddles his way. Though, they hadn't had any encounters of the same desperation level and neither got around to disrobing again for awhile. Still though, that was perhaps the least important thing he could think of. Futaba was transforming, yet again, way faster than he ever anticipated could happen. There was still air of easy to so many things she did now, both with him and even when hanging out with Ann. He knew there was still plenty of work to be done, but over all, he was plenty impressed with her improvement.

Though, he wasn't the only one that had noticed.

From: Coffee Dad

If I find a single hickey on my little girl's neck, so help me God, I will disown you.

To: Coffee Dad

Wouldn't dream of it, Boss.

From: Coffee Dad

Good. You and Futaba should come have dinner at LeBlanc tomorrow.

From: Best Girl

I think the old man is lonely. Should we be good little children?

To: Coffee Dad

We'll be there.

Well, at least some things wouldn't change.

~x~x~x~

Futaba could admit to herself that seeing Akira shirtless hadn't been much of a step. Their beach trips and several instances of Ryuji and Akira getting too sweaty during this past summer had made the experience of Akira's bare chest not entirely unique. Still, touching his bare chest had definitely been a plus and would be something should would hopefully get to repeat very soon.

Still, the next obvious step would surely be her being the shirtless one. It shouldn't be that difficult, she reasoned. It was just like the beach only no bikini top. And hey, she hated bras and bikini tops anyway, so in theory, this would be awesome. Only snag in that line of logic was her incredible discomfort concerning her breast size...

And boy would that suck. Having a panic attack born of self-hatred would definitely kill the mood. She ran the idea through her head dozens of different ways, looking for some way to minimize any and all intrusive thoughts. Sadly, all simulations came to the same conclusion: she wouldn't know if she'd be bothered or not until she was in the situation. She turned her attention from her laptop to Akira, curled up in the Nest reading a book.

No time like the present, right?

"Is...Ryuji gonna be back soon?"

"Don't think so. He said he and Ann were going on another scouting mission. Whatever that means."

"I see." Most of her checklist items so far had been personal challenges. Asking Akira to partake wasn't something she'd gotten around to planning out yet. As it was, him taking his shirt off had been very... opportunistic. Spur of the moment. She reasoned that this challenge needn't involve much fanfare either. The less attention the less chance of freaking out, right?

Futaba spent a couple moments observing Akira, still grossly invested in his new mystery thriller novel. Now or never, she figured. Hooking her arms under the T-shirt she was wearing, she slowly pulled it up and over her head. She lowered the shirt to the bed, casting another glance at her boyfriend. No reaction. Either he hadn't noticed or he was really good at maintaining a neutral face with a half naked girl in the room.

Or he just wasn't interested in such a flat chest...

She shook her head. No. None of that. She wasn't going to let a couple intrusive thoughts ruin this for her. Taking a deep breath, she reached behind herself to unclasp her bra, letting it slowly slide down her shoulders. The relief was almost godlike. How did women with large breasts deal with imprisoning them in these horrid death traps? She'd have to ask Ann and Haru sometime. Once again, her eyes turned to Akira. Still nothing. Her mouth quirked into a point. Damnit, here she was being brave as hell and her dumb boyfriend only wanted to read. She considered chucking her bra at him. That would get his attention.

It would also be a pretty unsexy method of acquiring said attention. Hmm.

Her eyes traveled to the door, and she quickly realized it wasn't locked. And she was bare breasted in Akira's bed. In the somewhat unlikely event Ryuji did come home soon...

Oh, wait. Maybe this would be the perfect opportunity. She placed her laptop down on the mattress, and then arranged herself lying along the bed with her elbow propping up her torso. This way, Akira would have a perfect view of her...assets and she could still pass off nonchalance. Not to toot her own horn, but man, she was a genius.

"Hey, Akira?"

"Hmm?"

"Would you mind locking the door?"

Finally, the bastard looked up from his book. His eyes scanned the door, as if it would reveal to him the reason she had asked. She withheld a sigh. Stay on target. "Um. I can, I guess." He dog-eared the page he was on and sat up, turning to her, "Is there a reason as to wh-....wha..."

Yessss.

His gray eyes widened comically. A scarlet blush spread over his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Akira Kurusu, charismatic and stylish leader of the Phantom Thieves of Hearts, was flustered and it was all her doing. Usually, it was Akira pulling charming stunts to make her blush, laugh or smile. She had to admit, the power was a real turn on. And confidence booster.

Futaba: 1

Stupid voice in her head: 0

"I'm pretty sure you've answered your own question, huh, hot stuff?"

Akira nodded, lips curling into a bashful smile. "Y-yeah." Still, he got up to fulfill her wish, locking the door, then turning back to her, unsure. "Checking items of the list I see?"

"Yep!"

He smiled, warm and genuine. "That's good. How's it feel?"

Futaba closed her laptop, fidgeting a bit. "It's difficult sometimes. But it's not like I didn't know it would be. I think it's going well...?"

Akira nodded, hand coming up to twirl his fringe. He was nervous. Well, that made two of them. "Am I meant to participate actively or passively in this challenge?"

"Oh." She hadn't considered that. Originally her plan was just to be shirtless. She supposed she could tackle makeout with Akira while shirtless too. The idea of him touching her as well was...

Well nice was an understatement. But so was terrifying.

"Honestly, I didn't think about that part in detail yet." She forced herself not to roll over onto her front. Hiding would defeat the entire purpose. "I am certainly not opposed to trying. I just don't know...if it would...work?"

"Think you might get overwhelmed?"

"Yeah" she confirmed. Again, she was confronted by just how annoying it was that she couldn't do this as easily as other girls. Getting naked in front of a complete stranger would have been one thing. But this was Akira. If she couldn't trust herself with him...

No. She was working on it. This was physical proof she was working on it. She squeezed her eyes, hoping to wish away the thoughts.

Akira watched her struggling. Honestly, he was shocked she'd even gotten this far without freaking the hell out even once. Whether it was mostly in hopes of flustering him or to prove to herself she could, Akira didn't care why Futaba had endeavored to pull this off, but was immensely proud of her courage. And he wasn't going to let that fizzle out now.

"Hey," Futaba's eyes slid open again and met his. "You're mostly naked in a room with a guy you like. If that's not progress, I don't know what is. If you want to call it quits here and get dressed, that's totally fine. If you want me to pretend I didn't just see the most beautiful sight of my life, I'll pretend to go back to reading and you can do whatever you want, clothed or otherwise." She notably squeaked at that, flushing adorably. He smiled, continuing, "And, if you want me to come over there, I can do that too. You're the boss."

Futaba bit her bottom lip, smiling despite her embarrassment. God, why did he have to be such a flirt all the time? A sweet flirt, though. The absolute sweetest. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, observing his open expression and kind smile. She took a finger and crooked it at him, mouth half quirked into a smile. "Come here, you mushy goofball. I'm a tangle of nerves right now, but you might as well sit with me even if we don't do anything."

Akira's bright smile reminded her of an excited puppy. "Yes ma'am."

As much as this process had been grating on her nerves, there were several parts that made it very much worth the emotional fraying. Akira's boundless enthusiasm and patience were the most gratifying part that she could think of thus far. Geez. The boy looked like it was a privilege to even sit next to her, which was ridiculous because as far as she could tell, she was the one being blessed with his understanding, time and kindness. Even more amazing, she didn't once question that he was just as content to help as he said. When they'd first met, Futaba had considered Akira to be an unstoppable force of nature. In her mind, she was only the benefactor to his attention because she fell into his way, not because he was some altruist that set out to save everyone. And honestly, that was probably true. But much like her, the moment Akira considered you a friend, an ally, he would protect you with all his might. And now, a month shy of two years later, she had somehow manage to maintain her position as the person he chose to stand by indefinitely. How on Earth had that happened?

And yet, even with such endless love for him overflowing from her, her body still seized up when he cupped her cheek. Damn her weakness. Akira cut off her thoughts before they even began, "Let's think of a good way to easy you into this. Get you to relax."

What did normal people do that involved being naked but not being overwhelmed by the fact of their nudity? Baths sure, but she was no where near ready for that one. Spas, she guessed, but that was too similar to the bath idea. Maybe...

"Oh," Futaba uttered, "A massage might work."

Akira blinked. His voice sounded like he was trying not to laugh, "Man, you're thinking of ways to get every luxury possible out of this list huh?"

"Wah?! N-no! I just-"

The dark haired boy shook his head, amused. "Kidding! I was just kidding. Yeah, I'll massage your back. Fair warning: I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Well," her returned smile was sheepish at best, "I have no idea what to expect so I'm fairly certain it will be impossible to disappoint me."

That wasn't entirely true. As she laid down on the bed with her hair tucked away from her neck, she acknowledged that she did have some idea of what this might be like. Not a single person on their jolly thieving team could say that they hadn't had some sort of fantasies about Joker's hands. Ryuji was convinced it was the gloves. Ann thought it was just how large his hands were. Yusuke argued it was how often he had played with said gloves, which Makoto had agreed with. Of course, it was Morgana who piped in saying that if they weren't impressed by how dexterous and gifted those hands were, they were all idiots. There may have been several wet dreams after that talk.

So, she did have some amount of expectation that this was going to birth several weeks worth of day dreams about Akira's hands, but that was honestly regardless of massage quality and somewhat embarrassing so she shut her mouth. Akira grabbed Ryuji's fancy lotion off the dresser and applied a bit to his hands, then came back to the bed to crouch with his legs on either side of her hips. A flash of heat ran through her at the thought of Akira's pelvis so close to her rump. New goal: get a massage from Akira without spontaneously combusting.

"Ready?"

"Aye aye," she chirped.

Her first thought was that his hands were so warm. He started near her shoulders, kneading them gently, thumbs digging into her neck. The tension in her spine leeched out at every sharp press of his palms and she couldn't restrain the blissful sigh. She heard Akira chuckle as his firm touch wandered down her back. He assaulted every knot he found with the same level of determination and skill that he showed while hunting shadows in Mementos. He used all the tools he had available to wipe them out: knuckles, palms, fingers, even his elbow for one particularly stubborn one. Sometimes it hurt, but mostly it just felt fantastic. The relief of having her tension released along with the warmth of his body so close to hers could have lulled her to sleep if she let it. The feeling wasn't at all clinical and after awhile it even stopped being vaguely sexual. It was just...intimate. All warmth and comfort, with a bit of sleepiness thrown in.

She wasn't sure how long had gone by, but at some point Akira leaned forward to press a kiss to her neck. The proof that he was affected by their physical closeness made itself known against her hip when he leaned in, but the press of his bulge against her didn't illicit any surge of emotion, nor detract from her comfort. Futaba opened her eyes and looked back at him. "Thank you, Akira. That was, like, the most relaxing thing ever."

Another kiss and a sweet smile served as her response. "You're welcome." Akira let himself flop sideways, lying beside her. Wrapped up in the bubble of pleasant contentment, she felt no hesitation in rolling over on her side and placing one of his hands on her bare hip. Akira's eyes met hers, seeking out any signs of doubt or anxiety. Yet, there was none of that this time. She leaned forward to plan a kiss on his lips, smiling sleepily. Akira's hands trailed over her side gently, almost reverently, as if treasuring the experience. All those quips about his hands paled in comparison to the real thing, which carefully cupped her breast. Futaba was surprised to find that her tit, which she had always thought of as pitifully small, was just large enough to fill his palm. Akira rolled the fleshy mound around in his grip, as if testing its weight. He seemed thoroughly engaged in his examination. Amused, the young woman asked, "Your verdict, Mr. Kurusu?"

His gray eyes flitted back to her own and the dorkiest smile she'd ever seen formed on his lips. "It's so soft," he marveled. She couldn't help but grin in return.

"Is this your fist time handling a boob?" she asked, still blushing profusely from both the warmth of his hand on her and the silliness of her own question.

Akira chuckled, "You mean other than Ryuji?" Futaba couldn't help but snicker at that. "Yeah, actually it is." At her questioning look, her partner shifted a bit, still massaging the flesh in his hand. "In junior high, I kissed a couple people. Made out with one or two behind the baseball team's equipment locker. But I was a bit too shy for anything else. And the more I explored, I realized that most of the people I ended up having crushes on were coincidentally guys."

"Woah, really? I've literally never heard this before."

"Mhm. I don't really think I have a preference between genders, at this point. Back then, I wasn't picky. I'd kiss just about anyone. Now, the most important thing to me is whether I'm comfortable around the person or not. Made everything a bit weird honestly, I was kinda terrible at making friends because I kept developing crushes on all of them. I was also the 'troubled boy with no mother to set him straight' so the few relations I did have were temporary by nature. I usually only ended up getting with the transfer students, because no one else would look my way. That was a fun reputation on its own."

Futaba stroked a hand through his hair, smile half amused and half sad. "Oh boy. Local bad boy sets out to smooch all transfer students, becomes transfer student himself. Confusion ensues. More at 8."

Nuzzling his head into her touch, Akira snickered. "Yep. Exactly so. So, coming back to your question, yes, this is my first experience with boobs. And I gotta say, I see the appeal."

Drawing on the well of bravery she'd fallen into today, Futaba's hands came down to tug at Akira's shirt. "Here. This off, yes? You can keep exploring the human secondary sex system, but I wanna cuddle."

He let out a low whistle, but complied, flinging his shirt over onto the beanbag. "You're really demolishing this list today, huh?"

"Hell yeah. I'm on a grinding spree today. EXP farming has never felt so good." Check be shirtless together with Akira and cuddle with Akira while we are shirtless off that list too.

Akira shuffled closer, gathering Futaba in his arms and pressing them together in a hug. They both sighed in tandem, then giggled a bit. The feel of soft, pliant of the girl's skin against the hard planes of a boy's chest was intriguing and invariably satisfying. As they shifted, Futaba's breasts ran down the line of Akira's pectorals, sending shivers down his spine. The hacker loved the way snuggling against the firm, warm chest made her feel safe, protected. Akira found the warm, silky-smooth skin comforting, like falling asleep in the sun, like coming home to the smell of coffee. The couple snuggled into each other serenely, trading caresses and kisses.

Neither was sure how long they laid in each others arms like that. Eventually, though, Futaba's hands stopped scratching at Akira's shoulders. She met his eyes. "Can I ask you a serious question?"

Akira glanced at her dubiously. "Sure."

She grinned. "When you first moved here, did you have a crush on Ryuji?" The horrified stare she got was all the answer she need. She let out a long, excited squeal, "Oh my god! You did, didn't you?! Aww, that's so cute, Akira."

The poor boy could only flop back and cover his face. "Please. Spare me. I have done nothing to deserve this."

Futaba collapsed on his chest, cuddling up to his neck. "Relax, babe, your big gay secret is safe with me. I have to ask though, what did you see in that boy?"

The pout she got was the most petulant thing she had ever seen. "He dragged me out to eat at all his favorite places within weeks of knowing me, defended me in front of teachers, other students, even Makoto, and then pulled this whole speech about how 'his place was right where I was'. How the hell was I supposed to resist that? I'm only human, Futaba."

"Damn, son. Not to be that girl or anything, but how did that crush, uh...resolve itself?"

Akira quickly sprang out of his pouting formation to wrap her in a hug, bare chests squished together once more. He nuzzled contently into her hair as she giggled and play fought him. "Oh, you know. Got a text from this weirdo one day. Turns out, she's this Egyptian Goddess who just so happens to be beautiful, kind, excitable, cunning, mischievous, and the legitimately smartest person I've ever met. Anyway, she asked me to steal her heart and between constantly saving my sorry ass and hacking the all of Tokyo city, she accidentally stole mine. Oops." Futaba laid in his arms, eyes twinkling in fondness and amusement. Akira's tone altered to something a bit more serious, but still soft. "Might have had a crush on Ryuji, but by the time November rolled around I was already in love with you. Poor kid never stood a chance, my Pharaoh." He leaned down to kiss her.

Futaba smiled into their kiss, playful tone picking back up. "Wow. Be still my beating heart. Still, I'm a bit shocked that Ryuji has a bit of game, after all. Too bad for him he seems to only use it on people he intends to ruthlessly shove into the friend zone."

"What other poor idiot did he manage to grab?"

"Ann."

"What? No. Don't you dare screw with me. Are you serious?"

"What do you think has been going on for the last few months? They've been playing wingman for each other, convinced that the other person couldn't possibly like them, while the person being set up fails miserably at dating because they'd rather date their wingman. It's been kinda ridiculous really."

Akira let his head fall back against the pillow. "Holy hell."

"Mmmhmm"

"...I should start writing my best man speech."

Futaba burst out laughing. "That's what you're worried about?"

"I mean, they're both pretty dumb, but Ann will probably get tired of this at some point and just jump him. I just can't believe I hadn't noticed this before now. I'm an awful leader."

"Too busy reading books and making out with your Goddess of a girlfriend, I guess."

"Can you blame me?"

They sat in silence for awhile, just enjoying their mutual embrace. Futaba was almost asleep when Akira voiced a question. "So, do you think this is something you would be comfortable with doing more often?"

"Shirtless cuddle sessions where we gossip like old women about our friends?"

A chuckle. "Let's leave that last part as being optional, but yes."

Futaba sat up a bit, nodding, and planted a firm kiss to his lips. "Yeah, sounds good. Exposure therapy, yeah?" Akira nodded. "Cool. That being said, I should probably take off now. Have some homework to get done."

The amount of progress done in that one evening was enough to keep Futaba in a good mood all week. In the blocks of time where Ryuji was out and they didn't feel like doing anything of merit outside of the Guild, the couple made a habit of curling up together shirtless in the Nest, typically under the large blue comforter to keep warm. Usually, Akira would read and Futaba would fool around on her phone. Sometimes, if they were particularly worn out that day, they would nap. They often would set that time aside for lengthy make out sessions, which Futaba decided were infinitely better with both parties shirtless.

She mused to herself one day, head contently pillowed on Akira's chest while he dozed, that she was just about half way through her list and it had only been five months. If things kept progressing this way, by her 18th birthday in March, she and Akira would be the proud owners of each other's V cards. Akira let out a loud snore, shocking her from her thoughts. She withheld a laugh, snuggling in closer. Honestly, though, she wasn't going to rush. She had never been this comfortable around another human being. Sex sounded awesome. For now though? Cuddles were good.

#akira kurusu #futaba sakura #akira x futaba #the hermit and her joker #my fics #fanfiction #smut

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