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722alycat · 3 years

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Face Down

pt i pt iii pt iv

Summary: Kuchel Ackerman makes a bargain, setting into motion a series of events that would leave her sons life forever changed.

“Everything you know about Levi,” Stout had demanded.

The pieces all came rushing together in technicolor clarity. They weren’t here for revenge. They needed to pump you for information regarding your first friend. Levi Ackerman, they said in disgust. As if he wasn’t your partner-in-crime, your confidant, the only boy you had ever felt like you could- no, no, he was Levi Ackerman the fool, who left you for dead in the underground city and took the only family you had ever known with him into the light.

He had left you.

You kept your lips closed. Regardless of the way that betrayal still ached and throbbed like a bruise on your soul, you knew you would never, never, tell either of these men shit about Levi. How could you, when they had spent days ruthlessly beating you and cutting you, trying to pry submission from weeping wounds and dry eyes? If they did this to you out of hope you knew anything about Levi, you could only imagine what they would do to the man himself.

Despite your silent resolution, you couldn’t help but think about the question. What did you know about Levi Ackerman?

Above all, Levi was a survivor. He got that from his mother.

“Yensen! Please be reasonable!” Miss Kuchel simpered, batting her eyelashes at the pimp before her while you shook limply in his grasp, halfway to being tossed into the street. You bawled your eyes out, only six years old and beginning to learn the cruel truth of life. You were wailing and shaking your small fists in the air as she bargained on your behalf, too young to understand then what was happening in front of you.

Yensen sized Kuchel up, looking at her figure, the sway of her too-skinny hips and coy smile on her face. Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she looked at him, a whisper of I know something you don’t know! behind the pretty gray. She was a rare beauty that he had collected, and he found it intoxicating to be caught in her crosshairs.

“Reasonable? Kuchel, darling, this child is now without a parent. She most certainly cannot pay the rent. I know it must be hard seeing this, being a mother yourself, but I can’t support every orphan in the city!” he cried, his wide gestures jolting you around as you cried harder.

You were an orphan now?

“Why wouldn’t mumma wake up!?” you wailed, still not understanding why she hadn’t stirred when you tried to shake her awake, not understanding why she was so cold. Kuchel flinched. She always knew your mother had tried desperately to shield you from the seedier sides of the underground, although everyone knew it to be a lost cause. You had never seen a dead body, were unaware the only home you could remember was a brothel, and life was stealing that innocence quickly, one swift hit after another. Your mother had lived Kuchel’s worst fear. What if she got sick and left Levi alone?

She hushed you, stepping much closer to Yensen to pat your head the way she’d seen your mother do, back when she would send you off to play so she could start working. She flashed a playful smile at her pimp, watching him under her long, dark lashes. “You’re a business man, and a roguish one at that!” she teased, brushing lint from his shoulder, “I’m sure you know a good investment when you see one.”

She felt the weight of the world on her shoulders as she looked at you, knowing the life she was so easily condemning you to with her manipulative words, however pretty they were. But this was the underground. The only ways to make money here was with a gun in your hand, or laying on your back. Your mother had been pretty enough to rake in a fair few customers, and as Yensen leered at you, he could see the family resemblance in your childish features.

Kuchel felt no better than a human trafficker, watching the way his face twisted into a sick grin of delight. “Beautiful, you are one of a kind,” he crowed to her, “you could smell a nugget of gold in shit, I swear to god!”

Kuchel waved away the praise, however disgusting it was, demurely telling him that she was only paying her dues to him, since he had been so kind and generous in the years she’d been here. She felt bile rise up her throat as she walked away from you, still in Yensens grasp.

But you would survive, and if Kuchel had her way, Levi wouldn’t be alone.

“Hey, kid.”

You glanced up at the speaker, and giggled. “Aren’t you a kid too?”

Honestly, he was only a little taller than you, and missing his front two teeth!

The dark haired boy shook his head, pointing to himself, “I just turned seven!” he proclaimed, then snidely turned his nose up, “I bet you can’t even count that high!”

You went quiet and shrugged. Mumma had been teaching you the alphabet, and you were gonna start on numbers next, but...

Mumma was gone.

You sniffled, and the boys eyes widened, “Hey! Don’t cry! Mom’s gonna kick my butt! Come on, don’t be a crybaby!”

You really began to cry at this, curled up on the ground and wailing as he berated you in a terrible attempt at stopping the waterworks. “Y-you’re so mean!”

He looked about ready to cry himself when he heard the telltale click of heels on the concrete. She was gonna kill him...

“Levi! I told you to bring her to our room! Not be cruel to her!” Miss Kuchel hollered at the boy- Levi, “She’s been through enough these past few days!”

“I- I tried, mom! But she’s such a baby she started crying before I could even get the invite out!”

You whimpered at this, having never had anyone be this rude to you in your life. Mumma always sent you to play with Isabel down the road, and she was never this mean. And she had pretty red hair.

Life was so much easier when she was alive. You never cried this much then. She used to read you stories before you fell asleep, and now... you couldn’t remember her voice.

Miss Kuchel knelt on the ground in front of you, and tilted your chin up to make you look at her. She cooed, brushing tears from your cheeks with her knuckles. “There, there. I know Levi can be a little harsh sometimes, but he doesn’t mean anything by it. It’s just how we Ackerman’s are, sweet thing. Now stop these senseless tears.”

You took one look at her kind face and sobbed harder, realizing you couldn’t picture your mothers any more. Miss Kuchel frowned at this, realizing quickly how weak you were in the wake of your mothers death.

“Y/N,” she began, and her tone of voice had changed, no longer was it the sweet cadence she used on Yensen, on her clients. It was now harder, flint gray like her eyes, something that could conjure a spark, “I know your mother tried her best to shield you from how cruel life can be. She was a kind woman. I am not her.”

You looked up with her, shocked into silence, your sobs hiccupping quiet as Levi watched on, shocked still.

“I know you’re young. It must hurt so much to have lost her. But she would have wanted you to live on. Listen to me,” Kuchel demanded, gripping your shoulder now, your chin still caught in her grasp, “crying will not do anything. It won’t bring your mother back. It won’t make this world less cruel. It will not save you. Only you can do that. Now, stop these senseless tears. If you want to live, you have to eat, and Yensen has given us extra rations to keep you fed... he’s investing quite a bit in you.”

She tugged you to your feet with that hand on your shoulder, hands rougher than mummas had ever been, your shocked stiff form almost toppling once she released you.

No one had ever-

You had never been spoken to like that.

As you followed Miss Kuchel, numb and weary, you realized your tears had finally stopped.

You stopped weeping so much after that. Really, you had stopped all together. You wanted to make Miss Kuchel proud, wanted to prove to that rude boy, Levi, that you were not a crybaby. If miss was right, and tears solved nothing, then you figured they were a waste of time.

You resolutely built up a wall between you and the part of you that screamed and cried whenever anything went wrong, instead choosing to foster a calmer version of yourself, one made of sterner stuff, like Miss. Even now, in the early morning, you resolutely reminded yourself that if you wanted to live, you had to be stronger.

“Levi, take the girl out of here once she’s finished eating. I have a client this morning, and I need you both out of the room earlier than usual,” Miss Kuchel said, putting a pretty hair pin into her hair, twisting the raven locks into an elegant sweep.

You smiled at her, chirping “Wow, miss, you must be really good with your clients, if they come this early!”

Miss Kuchel froze, her expression becoming more fragile than you had ever seen, before she shook herself, and scowled. She looked older, somehow, when she was angry.

“y/n, it doesn’t take much talent to spread your legs and look pretty,” she snapped, and you recoiled.

To what?

“A good whore,” Kuchel snapped at you, heedless of how you shrank away from her, “is one who can survive. You’d do well to remember that. Listen to people around you. Learn how to make them love you, and if you can’t do that, make them fear you.”

You gawked up at her, feeling pieces click too rapidly in your young mind. You had just turned seven, only half a year had passed since your mother died. A whore? She had been a..?

“Miss...” you began, voice quivering despite how you tried to steel it, “you... did my mother..?”

Kuchel huffed, all her hot air going quickly at the sight of you, brows furrowed in confusion and sorrow. She reminded herself of how little you knew, and how fast you were learning. She felt some kind of pride when she looked at you now, stronger and braver than you’d been when she bartered for your life, when she found you crying on the floor, “she tried to shield you from it. I have as well, but there comes a time where protecting your child means they cannot protect themselves. Your mother did what she had to do to make you survive.”

What she had to do to make you able to survive, you thought rather bleakly, was die. Die and leave you to the Ackerman duo, even Levi too sharp and too cunning despite his age. You were a kitten in a snake den, and they were as apt to bite you as they were to protect you.

But still, it was better than the streets.

Still, you felt safe here, cared for here, protected here.

You turned to the quiet boy by the door, watching him watch the situation unfold, and sighed, “Levi... lets go.”

Kuchel smiled then, teeth too sharp in the dawns light. You felt like she was somehow proud of you, then, for shutting yourself away from her, even if only for half a moment.

Levi considered you slowly, slate eyes watching as you trudged to the door. His eyes flicked to his mother, seeing how her gaze settled on the two of you, her cubs. He had never seen her look so viciously proud as right then.

You glanced at Levi, waiting for him, unwilling to venture out without him by your side. He shouldered past you through the door.

“C’mon crybaby.” he murmured, and you bristled.

“Hey!” you shouted, chasing after him as he strode away from you, “I don’t cry anymore! Stop calling me that!”

Kuchel watched you go, and felt a weight lift from her weary shoulders. No, Levi wouldn’t be alone, not with you so clearly beginning to latch onto him.

She felt, for the first time in six months, that the bargain she made with your life was paying off.

“Don’t say it like that.” you snarled, low and angry. Your hands shook where you had balled them into fists.

You see, all that crybaby energy had to go somewhere. It went right to your blood. The emotional outbursts had refined from tantrums to acerbic words and clumsy fights. Circumstances had turned you into a livewire, and it was giving Levi a constant headache.

See, you weren’t good at fighting. You never had learned the skill, with how you mumma had coddled you, and how Miss Kuchel was usually busy with clients. Instead, you flew by the skin of your teeth. You threw punches with shitty form, you couldn’t dodge a hit for anything, you were pint sized, compared to your usual opponenets. Your fighting style was simply swing until something stops moving.

Half the time, you didn’t even have your eyes open.

Even now, as you stood across from a bully from the orphanage who was above your weight class, you had your eyes halfway to shut.

“What? Whore? Are you offended because that’s all you’ll ever be, living in that brothel?”

You snarled, furious and thinking of your mother of how her face was a warm blur to you now, her voice a calming buzz, who had died a whore, who had died trying to keep you safe and innocent in a world that gave fuck all for safety, for innocence.

You thought of Miss Kuchel, who seemed to get more tired every day, without your mother there to help ebb the flow of pickier clients. You watched her be run ragged as a whore as she tried to survive to keep her son alive, to keep you alive. To keep you both from being alone.

How dare this little shit say the word whore with such blatant disgust.

Your blood was brought to boil. You lunged.

Levi got there first.

He grabbed you violently around the shoulders, using his larger mass to tug you away from Vic, hissing expletives in your ear all the while about how mom would kill him if he let you get your ass beat again.

Vic made a move to follow you, but the sound of horses broke him from the action, as you watched the clean men in the nice uniforms come back into the town. One coughed into his fist a few times, shoulders shaking as he did, and headed towards the brothel.

“Come on, brat.” Levi muttered, tugging you along by your skinny wrist as he took advantage of the distraction.

You growled, but relented, instead hissing and jabbering at him. “How can you stand that, Levi!? How can you just be so... so calm!? Miss Kuchel is the strongest person I know! Just because Vics mom works for the wall people at that orphanage doesn’t mean she’s better than Miss! Just luckier.”

Levi continued dragging you, almost like he hadn’t heard. You took a deep breath, gearing up to keep on blowing off steam, when he stopped suddenly and grabbed your hand.

You blanched. “Levi...?”

He cradled your still clenched and shaking fist. He soothed his fingers along the lines in your knuckles until you stopped huffing quite so angrily, and then he uncurled and recurled your fingers back into the shape they were in, but wrapped your thumb over the middle of your fingers, on the outside.

“If you’re going to risk throwing a punch, don’t break your hand,” he finally muttered, “you’re too reckless.”

You bared your teeth at the criticism, but then it fell away as you read the sentimentality behind the words, and you smiled at him.

“Thank you, Levi, for teaching me.”

He scoffed, dropping your hand like he was scalded. “Just stop picking stupid fights. Especially on moms behalf. She’d go insane if she knew.”

You hummed, looking a little sheepish. “It’s just... she’s always looked out for me, you know?”

He looked at you a little oddly, before nodding shakily.

“Cmon. Lets go see what the brothel has to offer for lunch.”

When Miss Kuchel got sick, there was little you could do.

You tried to convince the pimp to get her medicine, to help her, but he only watched you, as if waiting for something from you. He eventually shook his head, looking past your short frame into the room. He took in Kuchels frail frame, shoulders shaking beneath pale and sickly skin as she coughed. Her gray eyes, once so pretty, so lively, found his, and he resisted the urge to flinch. They were already deadened.

He pursed his lips behind the strip of cloth he used as a mask, watching as you grew desperate before him, begging him softly to please help her. He reached out and ruffled your hair, like Miss Kuchel did, like Mumma, like Levi, and your skin crawled and stomach tossed.

He read the thinly veiled revulsion, and grinned sickly behind the mask as you still didn’t push him away. He watched you steel yourself and continue to plead. Yes, he realized, you would be a great investment. It seemed the fundamentals of being a whore came naturally to you. If you could keep your virginity, you may even be auctioned off for your first night...

“She’s not worth the coin,” he said coldly, even as his eyes fell on the little dark haired boy curled by his mothers sick bed, clutching her hand. “I’m doing you a favor now, even letting her stay here with how disgusting she is. She’s not gonna make it the week.”

You heard the shuffle of Levi behind you, curling deeper into himself, grabbing his mother tighter, as if he could keep her warm, keep her alive through force alone. You were hungry, you were starving in this room with Kuchel too sick to feed you. You were sore, and tired, and scared of what would happen if she-

What if she left just like mom had?

You were furious.

You knocked his hand away from where it rested on your head, and watched with grim satisfaction as it flopped to his side, hearing him let out a shocked grunt. You took a breath, beginning to gear up for another one of your snarling rants when-

“Yensen.”

Kuchels voice was like broken glass. Far from the tinkling harmony it usually was when she spoke to the pimp, winding him around her finger.

“You’ll remember what I said?” she sounded so tired, so spent, and he nodded, looking suddenly uncomfortable at the memory of her convincing him to take you in, “Levi... he helps her. Don’t toss him to the wayside.” she begged, and the mans face grew grim.

“Kuchel, I cannot take in every damn orphan in the underground,” he growled, before striding away, closing the door behind him.

Levi had gone stock still, you saw, and you knew what he was thinking of.

Orphan?

Kuchel snarled, and then coughed wetly into the hankerchief gripped in the hand free of her sons. She let out a broken sounding sob, and the noise nearly brought you to your knees. “Miss...” you murmured, reaching out to her.

You had never seen her so small. Her shoulders were birdlike beneath your hands, her skin graying rapidly. You had kept her clean, washing her skin when she became too weak to move from the illness, but now you doubted you could even move her without hurting her.

“Fuck...” Kuchel hissed, weakly scrubbing the tears from where they had spilt down her temples, “I’m sorry, children. I’m so sorry.”

You knelt beside her, next to Levi, keeping your hand on her shoulder, and the other wrapped around his wrist. You felt Kuchels chest heave as she sobbed out years of pain and worry, and for the years she would miss. You felt Levi’s pulse between your shaking fingers, the jackrabbiting of it telling you everything you needed to know about if he was as scared as you. It was so odd, seeing Miss Kuchel break down. It was wrong.

Minutes or hours later, when Kuchels tears had dried, she pulled herself away from the two of you, hauling herself up onto her elbows to sit up. She hissed when you reached to help her, swaying dangerously to keep away from you.

“Listen to me.” she said, voice crackling and gravelly, and you thought how strong she was yet again, “Levi.”

Levi hunched deeper into himself, shaking harder now, and your heart broke for him, a chasm opening within it. But even so, you could feel an ache rising to fill it, an anger.

“Levi!” you snapped, “Look at her!”

He flinched at your tone, wide eyes finding yours in shock, and you gripped his wrist tighter as he tried to pull from you. You would have given anything to have had this chance with your mom. You wouldn’t let him squander it.

“She’s your mom,” you cried, “look at her!”

While you still have the chance rang unspoken in the air, like a tolling bell, and he looked away. When he finally gathered the courage to look at Kuchel, you could see the wetness in his eyes.

“You’re so strong,” Kuchel said, shaking hand coming to ghost over her sons cheek, “An Ackerman, through and through. I want you to beat this world. I want to watch you come out on top.”

You felt like you were intruding on their moment, watching her imbue his spine with the same metal she had always had, even as her arm quaked holding herself up.

“I never wanted to leave you alone,” she murmured, eyes flickering softly to you, and she reached out to ruffle your hair softly, washing away Yensens touch in moments, “and thanks to her, I won’t. Take care of eachother. Stay alive. Survive, whatever the cost. I beg of you.”

You nodded your head swiftly, hand wrapping around Levi’s shaking one, and you pursed your lips in determination. Levi’s fingers twisted to twine with yours, and he shook harder beside you, desperate eyes drinking in his sick mother. Every moment felt like the last, every breath she took, you fought the urge to hold yours.

“I’m so proud of you, my darling boy,” she whispered, growing tired. “Of both of you. Now please, go play. Leave me to rest.”

Levi opened his mouth to protest, and you stood to leave, releasing him.

You couldn’t let this happen. You couldn’t.

You raced through the door, desperate to find medicine.

If no one would help you, you would help yourself.

You fucked up.

You knew stealing medicine would be harder than the petty theft you and Levi had screwed around with, but you didn’t know it would be tied-up-and-beaten hard.

The store clerk had left you, curled on the ground and spitting blood, promising to turn you to the Military police on their next patrol. You felt so scared, so out of your league. Miss Kuchel couldn't save you. Levi would never leave her side to find you. You were alone here.

Maria, Rosa, and Sina help you.

The one thing Miss Kuchel had asked of you...

You couldn’t leave Levi alone.

and so you got to work on the knots binding your wrists, the rope rubbing your skin raw and red.

You needed to grab that fucking medicine and go.

You didn’t know how long it took you, tugging at the ties and hissing as your sore fingers cracked and popped from keeping them curled up in such an unnatural way, before you were finally loose.

The store clerk had gone to bed, not seeing such a small girl as a threat. Foolish bastard. He would pay for that. You scrambled out of the small room he kept you in, knees aching and legs wobbling after sitting for so long. You launched your small elbow through the window of the store room, unwilling to bother with wasting time on the lock. Kuchel needed you.

You frantically snatched a variety of medicine, frantic and quick as you heard a crash from the floor above you. You didn’t have time to read labels, just shoving handful after handful into your knapsack. You let out a frantic whimper as you grabbed one last fistful of bagged powder from beneath the counter, and sprinted out of the shop as fast as your legs could carry you. It was dark in the underground at night, and you were more scared now than you were when the store owner caught you. You had never been outside so late.

You tripped some blocks away, adrenaline fading fast and leaving you feeling all the aches and pains the man had left you with. Your ribs burst with needle like jabs every time you panted out a new breath, and it didn't help when you crashed to the ground on them, arms curling to protect your stolen medicine more than your injured body.

Kuchel needed you.

You had been gone for a few days now, the frantic trek across the underground to one of the lesser known clinics took you a while, and you knew going back would take longer still, with your wounded body throbbing reminders of what you had survived with every step.

Still, you trudged on.

Kuchel needed you.

Levi needed you.

Please, you thought, let me get back in time.

You didn’t make it back in time.

You knew as soon as you opened the door, days old stench rising to meet you. You were far too late. She had died while you were still fiddling with knots, while you cut your elbow breaking glass to steal antibiotics, while you were napping because you got kicked in the head a little too hard.

You looked at the scene before you in shock. The proud and strong Miss Kuchel left to rot in her bed, her leakage staining the sheets she worked to keep pristine and white. You couldn’t... you couldn’t understand.

You had got the medicine. Everything was supposed to be fine.

You threw up, shocking yourself. The mess landed at your feet and on your shirt, adding an acrid smell to the sweetness of rotting meat.

“M-miss...” you croaked, stepping towards her. you were halfway across the small room when you kicked something. Looking down, you saw Levi. Curled in on himself still, like that day you left.

Your hands shook as you kneeled to look at him, taking in his sunken features from days without food, unsure and aching. What were you supposed to do? What would Kuchel do?

You knew the answer to that one.

You grabbed Levi’s hand, prying it from where it was curled around the back of his head. He startled, looking up at you with fear and shock in his eyes.

He blinked, once, twice, then grimaced, “I thought you were gone,” he croaked, “like mom.”

You shook your head, “I’m sorry, Levi.”

He let out a dry sounding sob, before stilling again, “I thought I was gone, too.”

You grit your teeth. You thought of Kuchel, of how she had drug you back from the brink, of how she taught you how to survive. You would not lose the only person you had left, you vowed, you would return Miss Kuchels kindness with another.

“Levi. Get up. Miss wouldn’t have wanted you to die here. You have to survive,” you yanked him easily to his unsteady feet, taking in how he wavered and drooped in your grasp, “Walls, Levi, you have to eat.”

You pulled him from the room, desperately, tugging him along. If you could get him out of there, into fresher air, you could save him. Just one step after the other. You had lost your mother, you had lost Kuchel. You would not lose Levi.

You released him from your grasp outside the room, a little further down the hall. You let him sag against the wall as you pulled a loaf of bread from your knapsack. “here,” you whispered, “eat.”

Levi took a cautious nibble of the bread, before savagely scarfing it down, shaking and sobbing as he did, seeming to finally break apart as you held him close, tucking him against your chest. You let him sob his heart out into your filthy shirt, clutch your aching waist as he scrambled for something to keep him grounded. You didn’t know how long the sound went on for, the desperation, before he calmed. He sounded so much like Miss Kuchel when he cried. You fought back the emotion rising in your throat, unwinding a hand to wipe the side of your mouth.

You glanced up when you heard footsteps, steeling yourself to see Yensen. If that son of a bitch even tried to separate you and Levi, you swore you would kill him. Your hands found the broken shard of glass in your knapsack, from the window you had busted. You weren’t letting anyone be taken from you by him again.

Your arm curled tighter around Levi’s still shoulders, feeling his sleeping form puff breaths against your neck. Your gauze wrapped fingers curled around your makeshift knife with vicious determination. Never again, you promised yourself.

You heard the footsteps round the corner and snarled, only to find an odd man you had never seen before. Dark hair going down to his shoulders, an earring, slate gray eyes, and a tall lithe form approached you slowly.

The stranger looked impassively at the two of you, just some whoreson and whore-to-be to him, but he still pursed his lips, long fingers on scarred hands pushing his black hair from his face.

“You kids know where Kuchel Ackerman happens to be?” he questioned, before nudging Levi harshly with his foot, as you snarled, startling him awake, “kid, I’m fucking talking to you.

“Leave him alone! If you’re here for her body, you can find it yourself you fucking bastard. Let Levi rest!”

The stranger stilled. Eyes taking in Levi and you with far more interest, lingering on the boys familiar features, dark hair, and slate gray teary eyes. Well, I’ll be fucked, he thought, “I thought she’d gotten rid of it.”

He watched you curl around Levi, the boy obviously still sleepy and confused. He saw the glint of the glass in your gauze-wrapped hand. Fuck me twice, Kuchel adopted a wildcat.

Still, he forced himself back onto the more pertinent topic.

“What do you mean, brats? ‘The body’?”

pt iii

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whistlekick · 5 years

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Sifu Glen Doyle is a martial arts practitioner and instructor. He is a former Kung Fu champion and practices Irish Martial Arts.

There’s a sense of comfort that you get right away when you cross over certain martial arts…

Sifu Glen Doyle – Episode 360

Learning how to fight is sometimes instilled into us on a very early age. Sifu Glen Doyle learned boxing as soon as he began speaking because of his father. Later on, he would turn into martial arts such as Kung Fu and stick fighting. What makes Sifu Doyle special is that he practices Irish Martial Arts traditions that are part of his roots. Sifu Glen Doyle has a lot to tell so, listen to find out more!

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Show Transcript

You can read the transcript below or download here.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Hello and welcome to this show. This is whistlekick Martial Arts Radio episode 360. Today, I’m joined by Sifu Glen Doyle. My name is Jeremy. I’m the founder at whistlekick. I’m your host on the show. And martial arts is a huge part of my life. So huge that it became my career. You can check out all the things that we work on at whistlekick. Many of those things, I am personally involved in over at whistlekick.com. Don’t forget. If you buy something, use the code PODCAST15. Save this 15%. It’s a thank you from us to you and honestly, lets us know that this podcast is worth doing. Because let’s face it. This is a business and we’ve got to make some money somewhere because I need to it. Not a lot but I do need to eat something.

Here we are, 360 episodes in and we’re still finding new martial arts to talk about. Did you know that there were Irish martial arts traditions? Well, today’s guest not only has family lineage through Irish martial arts but also something that most of us would consider more contemporary, more conventional in that Kung Fu. So, we not only get to talk about each of those arts but the contrasts, the similarities between the two, and the wonderful story that unfolds as Sifu Doyle talks about his life and his navigation through both of those arts and what it meant to him and his family. So, hold on, listen, and learn something. Sifu Doyle, welcome to whistlekick Martial Arts Radio.

Glen Doyle:

Thank you very much. Happy to be here.

Jeremy Lesniak:

I’m happy to have you here. Now, listeners, this was one we were chatting just before we started the episode that I think we were both afraid that this might be the episode that didn’t happen. There were a number of power outages on both ends. It was crazy. I’ve had issues with losing power here. I’ve has issues with guests losing power there. I don’t think we’ve ever had an episode scheduled for a time where both sides lost power.

Glen Doyle:

I like to respond like an echo.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Awesome. But we’re here now and I appreciate your flexibility in rescheduling. I’ve been looking forward to talking to you.

Glen Doyle:

My pleasure, my pleasure.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Great. Well, let’s start the way we start a martial arts show. We need some background. We need some basics. We need to learn how to make a fist and punch as it were with who you are. So, how did you find martial arts?

Glen Doyle:

Well, I mean, I was more or less, not to sound melodramatic, but I was kind of born into it. My dad was a boxer. And he boxed for a number of years. Mostly when he was in the Canadian Armed Forces but he was always boxing. And so, he started me whether I wanted to or not. In 1969, when I was 4 years old, he put on the boxing gloves and I got my first lesson. And it went on till however long dad was alive. He started me boxing and then in 1972, he started me in stick fighting. And then I wanted to branch out and learn other styles and stuff. So, in and around 1981, I branched out and joined a Chinese Kung Fu club in Toronto. And I stayed with that club until my Sifu, Sifu Lore King Hong, passed away in 2008. So basically, from 1969 to present has been my martial arts path. But I got basically involved in it with my dad started punching at me and didn’t give me a choice but to punch back, so.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Wow. All right. So, you’ve got a couple of different things going on, a few different martial arts.

Glen Doyle:

Uh-hum.

Jeremy Lesniak:

And one of the things that I find personally fascinating is how people start to relate those back to each other.

Glen Doyle:

Right.

Jeremy Lesniak:

So, what does that look like for you?

Glen Doyle:

Well, I mean, you could… If I go into boxing and if comparing boxing in Gung Fu, a punch is a punch. No matter how you do it, it’s just going to be a different way of explaining with or a different way of executing it. But the end result is the same – you’re trying to hit something. The comparisons that I always was a little more interested in was the stick fighting style that my dad taught me was from our family. It’s an Irish stick fighting style. And when I branched out and explored the other martial arts, be into Gung Fu and then I dabbled in some Filipino stick fighting, I just thought it was really interesting the geographically, the two countries – Ireland and Philippines – are so far apart. But when you put a stick in a hand, there’s going to be some principles that are going to be very similar and some are going to be completely different. So, I was always amazed at the way the footwork might be explained differently but the end result’s the same. And sometimes, the footwork looks almost the same. So, it reiterates and it just emphasizes to me that if you’ve got 2 legs and 2 arms or you’re basically a human being, you’re only going to move a certain way so many times or a certain way so many different times and things are going to crossover. So, as a martial artist, when I branched out into other arts that weren’t culturally the same as mine, there was a nice kind of camaraderie built up in my mind right away. Because it was like, wow, this isn’t so different. I’m not in such a foreign land after all. This is great. And there’s a sense of comfort that you get right away when you crossover certain martial arts. When you find the similarities, it’s like you’re home but you’re not. You’re on the road but your home is… It’s like when you go travelling, you take a big suit case and you want to have a lot of your stuff around you even though you’re in a bizarre place or a different place because you have that bit of that comfort, because you’ve got some items from your home that make you feel a little more comfortable. And I think, when you crossover two different martial arts together, that familiarity is what makes you feel comfortable and allows you to really open your learning curve and really kind of accept the techniques more readily, more instinctively rather than just kind of forcing a square peg into a round hole. If that makes any sense.

Jeremy Lesniak:

It certainly does. I’ve spent a bit of time doing some Filipino stick work and I would imagine that 90% of the folks listening who have engaged in stick work have done it through some kind of Filipino Eskrima or Arnis, you know, Southeast Asian tradition.

Glen Doyle:

Uh-hum.

Jeremy Lesniak:

You said that you had done some sort. Are you able to relate to us the… I expect a lot of similarities but where are the differences?

Glen Doyle:

Well, I mean, the Filipino style that I dabbled in – when I say dabbled, please understand, I’m not professing that I studied it a long time or I’m really super-efficient

Jeremy Lesniak:

Sure, sure.

Glen Doyle:

But I dabbled in it and the fact that I did often on for a number of years because one of the instructors at the Kung Fu club that I was training was from Cebu City in the Philippines.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Uh-hum.

Glen Doyle:

And anytime he was teaching a class, if I had the time to do it, I would jump in and play around with it. It was called Arnis. It was… That’s crazy. Just falling out of my head now.

Jeremy Lesniak:

That’s okay.

Glen Doyle:

Lapunti Arnis De Abanico, there you go. Sorry. And Abanico, I believe, is fan style if I’m not mistaken. And it’s a single-hand stick fighting style. Which is the biggest difference between what I was taught with from dad which was two-handed. And the stick is a lot longer in the Irish system, a little heavier because the blackthorn is a heavier wood. Where the Filipino system is using the rattan. A lot of whirling strikes in the Filipino systems are very fast, explosive. And I found that I like the way that the multiple quick hits, the rapid hits in the Filipino system is something I really love. They were so different from the Irish stuff. So, I was like a kid in the candy store when I first played around with it, so.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Nice. It almost… You know, I have some Irish roots. In fact, my father lives to the south side of Cork. I’ve used some blackthorn sticks. They’re durable, they’re heavy. So, is the stick fighting tradition that you come from, that you’re passing on, is there some synergy there with bladed weapons?

Glen Doyle:

No.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Okay.

Glen Doyle:

The only connection to bladed weapons is… Basically, the Irish stick fighting came to be simply because of penal laws and whatnot. Irish citizens especially the peasants weren’t allowed access to weapons. A lot of Irish men fought in foreign armies in the 1700s or 1800s. And they learned fencing, they learned sword playing with foreign armies. So, when they came back, that’s all they had to drop on. But because they didn’t have access to bladed weapons, they used stick. And they had to adapt the slashing and stabbing motions for more thumping and striking. So, the only kind of influence in any kind of bladed weapon would be the way the system was approached. Because all, at one point, all Irish stick fighting systems for one-handed based on sword fight but with a stick in your hand. And then somewhere in my family line, my great great great great great uncle, I think it go back five or six generations, he was a pugilist and he decided to put two hands on stick. And the stick was then parallel to the ground, horizontal. And it changed the way we approach the stick fighting. So, any kind of access or comparison to bladed weapons kind of really disappeared when that happened. And now, the pugilist of the boxing influence kind of took over. It became a much more close quarter kind of thing. We had to get in close. Which when you have a stick, you want to keep the opponent on the end of your stick. So, you want to have them on that last six or eight inches for maximum velocity. And then here’s something my dad taught me where it’s like close in, close in. But I have this long stick why do I have to close in? But that would probably be the only… If I could really say any kind of bladed. But there’s no other weapons in the system I learned from my dad. It’s just the blackthorn. That’s it. No knives, no nothing else. So. Yeah.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Okay. Interesting. I’m going to have to find some video. Do you have a video? Is there a video of this thing?

Glen Doyle:

Yeah. I have a bunch of stuff up on YouTube.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Okay, cool.

Glen Doyle:

Just the live stuff; me teaching some seminars. It’s not instructional.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Okay.

Glen Doyle:

It’s just in a collage fed to some music. I had a website for a while when… I had to get permission from my dad to teach it outside the family. And that was the whole story itself. And I had website up. It just had pictures on it. And I got a lot of emails and a lot of communicational people. You can’t tell much from a picture. You can only tell so much. And a lot of the feedback, I’m not going to go into it, was oh my god, this to this and I would do this and it was all this kind of stuff. And I just kind of let it roll off my back for a couple of years. And then I said, you know what? Maybe I’ll just put something I knew just so people can see the motion and the movement. And maybe that will help them understand the pictures they’re seeing. So, I put up a couple of videos. And it was the exact opposite type of feedback. I’ve got people like oh, that’s how it works. And it was definitely the right thing to do. Because you kind of got to see the style to understand it. And then now, I find that people are really… It really launches more questions but they’re more listening with excitement rather than derision.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Uh-hum.

Glen Doyle:

And it was all because I put a few videos up. So, I did that just so people can get a sense of how it looked and how it moved. And I find a lot of Filipino stick fighters actually are the most interested. They love watching it and they make their observations and similarities pop up and the differences. It’s usually a really nice interaction when I talk Filipino stick fighters. They usually have really interesting questions about certain techniques and the style, and how this came to be and how that can be. And then, of course, they’ll bring up wow, it’s very similar to what we do. And then it’s kind of like 2 kids talking over a couple of toys that they have that are very similar, right? So.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Yeah.

Glen Doyle:

Yeah.

Jeremy Lesniak:

And those are some of my favorite conversations with martial artists. And I think those conversations are more enlightening, more productive, more enjoyable when you start from a place of similarity.

Glen Doyle:

Of course. Yes.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Rather than a place of difference. And I mean, I can… I’m trying to think of something that I haven’t done martial arts-wise. Kung Fu might be the furthest from what I’ve done as a complete style. But I can sit down and I can talk with a Kung Fu practitioner and we can start from what do we have in common? We can have a lot of fun. We can maybe even share, spar, and have a good time. Or we can start from differences which tend to be philosophical and that doesn’t help anybody.

Glen Doyle:

No. Usually… Well, it sets the tone, right? Because I think when you come from a place of similarity, then the camaraderie is built right in. If you come from a sense of difference, there’s always this little underlying tone of are you saying your style is better?

Jeremy Lesniak:

Right.

Glen Doyle:

Because it’s so different? I mean, I’ve studied this. I know my style really well. Why are you saying yours is better? And it’s like, you’re not saying that but if you’re coming at them from the differences, people tend to lean towards that. It seems to be kind of human nature. Well, what’s wrong with my style? What do you mean your style’s different? What do are you saying? When you come at the other person from the point of wow, and we do this. It’s very similar to what you do. All of a sudden, they listen with their ears wide open rather than looking for reasons to be offended, right? That’s been kind of my take on it. And when I teach seminars, I always have my opening speech and I always say, I don’t denigrate or take away from any other style. And I always say that I’m saying that we do it this way. I’m not saying it’s better or worse than what you do. I’m just saying you’re different. And that seems to really actually set the tone for the seminar and I knock on wood. I haven’t had any issues at this point, so.

Jeremy Lesniak:

That’s great.

Glen Doyle:

Yeah.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Good. We’ll make sure to link the YouTube channel over on the show notes for this. And for folks that might be new, if you came in, if this is your first episode, we put the show notes at whistlekickmartialartsradio.com. Now you, a few minutes ago, mentioned a conversation that you had to have with your father to get permission to teach this stick fighting style outside of the family. Would you be willing to share that?

Glen Doyle:

Sure, yeah.

Jeremy Lesniak:

What that was about?

Glen Doyle:

Yeah. Well, I mean, this system was only passed on through family. So, you had to have the surname Doyle to learn it. And they were very strict about that. In Irish traditions, oral tradition is very, very predominant in Irish culture. A lot of times it’s because the occupying forces wanted to kind of diffuse the culture, they wanted to stop the language. Anything to do with individuality or priding your country or where you’re from, they want to kind of take that away. You know what I mean? And so to preserve certain cultural aspects of the country, a lot of things were taught in secret or behind closed doors or secret meetings and whatnot. And that include language and music and whatnot. So, the stick fighting was no different and it was passed on father to son, through family. And if you didn’t have the last name Doyle, you didn’t learn it. And because the stick fighting stuff could differentiate between families. It could differentiate between counties or towns. So, you could have a town that have one stick fighting style. You could have a county that didn’t have the factions from like Tipperary and from Wicklow and Wexford and whatnot. You had the Yellow Bellies, you had the 18:01 There’s a bunch of names that you could… So, they would have a similar style. But anyway, so, ours was based on family name and it was passed on. My dad was very strict about it. When he taught it to me, we spend most of our weekends. He had a full-time job as an iron worker. So, he didn’t have a lot of time during the week. But on the weekends, we’d be doing the boxing and the sticks. And he would always reiterate, this is ours and keep to yourself kind of thing. And eventually, after being in the Kung Fu club for a number of time, my Chinese Kung Fu instructor, Sifu Lore, he was so open because he wanted to share his culture with everyone. And he was amazing that way. And it really rubbed off on me. So, I started saying to my dad, this is such a cool little system and I’m your only son and you’re teaching it to me. But if I walk down the street tomorrow and get hit by a car and get killed, it’s done. It’s gone. And that really bothered me. So, I started asking my dad in the early ’90s. Can I start showing some guys down at the club just some stuff? And he was adamant; no. And my dad… To give you a sense of my dad, to see and get his kind of mindset, the way he was, just a little capsule thing of his personality, he forged my granddad’s signature to join the Canadian military when he was 16. I lied about his age. And he spent his 17th and 18th birthdays on the frontlines in Korea.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Wow.

Glen Doyle:

And he summed up his personality with this – I’m going to keep it clean for the listeners…

Jeremy Lesniak:

For sure.

Glen Doyle:

And if it’s offensive to some people, I do apologize. But it was what he said to me. Because he was really a hard man and I always used to say to him, you’re really hard to people. You speak your mind so you come off rough. And he said, you have to understand me because I killed my first man before I ever slept with my first woman. And that kind of summed up my dad for me. And I mean, there’s no part of my… And you can edit that out, too, if it’s not appropriate. I have no…

Jeremy Lesniak:

No, absolutely not. I think that’s pretty important.

Glen Doyle:

It really set his tone for me. Because I can’t even wrap my head around that. No matter much I tried. That sense of what he must have went through at 16, 17, and 18 years of age. I always gave him a wide berth after that. I always try to step back and understand because he was very straight-edge. He was very straightforward and he said what he said. If you didn’t like it, he really didn’t care. So, going back to saying dad, I really want to kind of share it with some other guys at the club, just a few guys at the club, my closest friends. No. He was adamant. And then in late 1997 or early 1998, he got diagnosed with metastatic colon cancer. And he was only given a couple of months. And we spent all the time together. I was very, very fortunate that I got to do everything I needed to do for closure. And the fact that I got to have my last talk with him, I got to hold his hand, I was there when he took his last breath. I mean, the relationship that I had with my dad, if I wasn’t there, it probably would have driven me insane that I didn’t get the goodbye. So, I was very fortunate that I was allowed to share those times. And we talked about a lot of things. And the one thing I brought up again was I really wanted to teach this outside the family. I don’t have any children of my own. So, again, the style is endangered of just becoming extinct if I pass on and don’t teach anyone. And it took a lot of talking but finally, near our last talk, before he went onto morphine and couldn’t talk anymore because he’s in so much pain, he finally gave me permission. And if he had not, you and I would be having a completely different conversation right now and we’d just be talking about Kung Fu. So, yeah. I was very grateful that he eventually relented. Now, do I think he was happy about it? I couldn’t really say. But all I know is he did give permission. And whether it was his last act of love or not, I don’t know. But at the end of the day, he gave me his permission to teach it outside the family. And after, we had his service and I had his ashes and I spread his ashes over our land. We’re from Newfoundland originally. And I started to slowly get the style out there. I mean, I had an interview with Inside Kung Fu and I think it was 1995. And I got into the moment. The new journalist was really, really good. He really played me really well, for lack of a better term. And I blurted out the Irish stick fighting. And then I immediately stopped talking about it. But he didn’t mention it in the article. And the bullyrag that I got from my dad about that, let me tell you, that went on for a couple of years. So, I learned my lesson. But yeah. He basically gave me permission just before he passed away. So, there’s a sentimentality there when I teach as well. It’s like he’s in the room with me, which I love. And it helps me cope. I mean, he’s been gone since ’98. But it just doesn’t seem like… It seems like yesterday to me. I still think about him all the time. And the sticks is a way for me to kind of revisit our time together and stuff. So, there’s a real emotional sentimentality to me teaching it.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Now, when… Those of us that came up in… I guess I think of it as Asian traditions. When I think of the 24:25 Kung Fu style or Karate style, quite often, there’s a family dynamic.

Glen Doyle:

Uh-hum.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Some kind of splinter there. But I haven’t had the opportunity to speak with someone who came from that close-guarded family tradition of a martial arts. So, forgive me as I’m asking you some of these questions that I’ve always wondered knowing that you don’t speak for everyone. But you’re the best I have.

Glen Doyle:

Okay. No problem.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Why? Why was your father so resistant to people learning this family style?

Glen Doyle:

I think it was just the cultural way. It was just cultural and the way he was raised. Again, with it being guarded and not wanting to basically… Like self-preservation, really. I mean, you always want that. If everybody knows your style, then the percentages of being able to counter you go up.

Jeremy Lesniak:

True.

Glen Doyle:

And every system that you ever come across is one-handed. And now suddenly, you come up against this guy and all of a sudden, he starts one-handed and drops his stick into his other hand. And he comes at you from a pugilistic horizontal base stick pattern. It’s going to throw you. And I think, that element of surprise ups the success factor. So, I think it was a combination of it was tradition – it was the way he was taught. And my granddad was probably exactly my dad, a no nonsense Irish man. Do what I say and don’t question me. And I think that coupled with the fact that technically, you’d like to have a surprise or two in your back pocket. I think the combination of those two things in the formula is probably why he was still adamant. Because when I would explain to my dad how if Sifu Lore said, oh I only teach Chinese, I wouldn’t have been learning this amazing stuff that he was teaching me. I could see my dad understanding what I was saying. But the stubbornness of no, we don’t share it because of whatever reason. I could see there was a wall up for the longest time. And I’d be lying to you if I said I understood it. But it’s just I think it was, for lack of a better term, the programming. It was just the way he was raised. And he kept it without being… What’s the word? Not pure but he just didn’t want… He wanted it untainted. And when you get a style and you put it out into the public domain, it gets changed right away. People are going to adapt it to what they think the movement should be or the way they would do it or strategically how they think it works for them. And all of a sudden, the style ceases to become that movement or that way of executing a technique that’s been passed on for generation to generation. And it means he was big on not changing the techniques. Because, like my dad said, the system was… And I think he was talking about all fighting systems. But when he’s pertaining to our sticks, as he said, he was born on a battlefield. And through evolution and through faction fights, techniques that didn’t work, you got your head bashed in. You knew if they didn’t work, they didn’t get passed on. And he said, nowadays, everybody likes to change everything. But most of the people changing the styles aren’t haven’t fought to save their lives. It’s theory or they got padded equipment on. So, they’re not getting punished for their mistakes or it’s a game of tag. And again, I’m not coming down on anybody who spars or anything like that. It’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying what he said to me. And he said, why would you change something that has been proven? But because here in modern day society, now it’s like well, this is faster or flashier and whatnot. But it’s just a theory. I think, for of the thing he was worried at, if I put it out there into the general populace, it was going to get changed a lot. But it would still have our name on it. And he said, if someone changes it and the technique doesn’t work, it still got our name on it. And they go out and try to use the technique and they get their head bashed in, well our name takes the hit. So, that was kind of his kind of approach. And I think that’s one of the reasons he was really adamant aside from the fact that it was tradition that it was just taught to Doyles. And I think he wanted something to pass onto his son that was just for me, I guess. There could have been a father-son dynamic there that I wasn’t picking up on. Because I was all about this. I loved it so much, I just wanted to share it with everyone. A little bit of family pride, and pride is a double edged-sword.

Jeremy Lesniak:

It certainly is.

Glen Doyle:

And so I think that maybe he was trying to dissuade me from that. And I’ve been teaching it outside the family now since just after he passed away. So, it’s been about 20 years and all the stuff he said has happened. It’s been changed, it’s been this, it’s been that. So, he wasn’t wrong. I’ve had to lock away and discontinue associations with a lot of people because of what happened. That dad said would, sadly. So, I have to kind of give my hat to him because he wasn’t wrong. But on the other side of the coin is, I’ve met some amazing people that passed it on and they’re amazing. So, on the other side of the coin, I was right.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Right. Can you talk a little bit more about the stuff he was right about? I’m not asking you to name names or identify anything so clearly that people could infer names.

Glen Doyle:

Yeah. No, no. I wouldn’t do that anyway. But it just… basically, what would happen is a lot of people would come under the guise of oh, I want to learn it the way you learned it. I wanted to stay traditional and I want to learn and then pass it on and whatnot. And really, all what they wanted to do was they wanted to up the 31:16 of their school by saying they offer Irish stick fighting. So, it was more of a business thing. And what they would do is, they would just take certain elements that they like from the system. And they would incorporate it to what they already taught. So, if I did a numbered system… So, let’s say I taught a sequence or there’s a technique that, let’s say, has five movements in a sequence – I’ll try to be really kind of basic here – and we go move it 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. And they take the movement. Well, movement 1 and 2 would be from the Doyle system and then movement 3, 4 and 5 would be from where that they learn. So, it would become a hybrid and it would get infused. And then what happens is it started to… Then the people, they taught would then change it a little bit when they start it. So, two or three lessons down the road, it didn’t even look anything like what I have taught them. Yet it still had our family name on it.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Right.

Glen Doyle:

And you’ll see it. If you search Doyle stick fighting, you’ll find a number of videos on YouTube aside from mine and you’ll see. If you have martial arts eyes, you’ll see exactly what I’m talking about. And I don’t deny anybody that I trained. If someone wrote to me and said, blah, blah, blah, says this and I will not lie. I’ll say yup, he learned under me. But I will also say, but he has changed it a little bit. So, the stuff he’s teaching is influenced or has a flavor of what I taught. But it’s more of what they’ve done to hybridize it. So, I’m very honest but I don’t deny anybody I’ve ever worked with. Even if I no longer teach them, I will still say yup, they learned under me. They came to a seminar. I’m not going to cut off my connection to them that way because I don’t think that’s fair. They did put in the time. I just want to try to keep the style out there the way it was taught to me. So, if somebody comes to me or goes to somebody and wants to learn what was taught back in Ireland, hopefully, they can find somebody who does that. Not somebody’s version of a version of version 33:37

Jeremy Lesniak:

Makes complete sense.

Glen Doyle:

Because some people want that. They want that authentic style. Some people really do. And others are fine with learning the hybrid stuff. They’re fine with it and that’s all fair to them. I have no problem with that. But when your name’s attached to it, when your family… And again, because of the sentimentality and emotional connection to my dad, I won’t lie. There’s a little chip on my shoulder about it. Some days it bothers more than others. But I’ve learned to live with it now. And now, when I teach, I’m very particular hen I teach one-on-one in person. I just started doing an online course on video. I’m going to test that out and see how that plays out. But I don’t want to… Because of a couple of bad experiences, I don’t want to just say I’m not teaching anyone. Because that defeats the purpose as well. I don’t think that’s fair to people who want to learn it. So, I’m trying to find that. It’s like you’re trying to walk that tightrope, right? And you’re going to have to make some concessions which I learned that I had to. And at the same time, every once in a while you’re going to find that one or two or three or four people that are just going to take it the way it was given to you and they’re going to treat it that way. And they’re going to make sure it stays authentic and how it was passed in. And those are the victories that I take. And then all the other ones, I’ve got to spend some time with different people and different personalities and I choose to take the positive away rather than the negative. Because if I keep the negative, man, I’ll just be the grumpiest person in the world. And I don’t want that. So.

Jeremy Lesniak:

I get it. I get it. Now, I can completely see what you’re talking about. It makes a lot of sense.

Glen Doyle:

Yeah. I mean…

Jeremy Lesniak:

The idea that it’s not just a martial art. It’s your lineage. It’s your tie to your father and so many things. And I don’t think anyone else is going to fully embrace that even if they intellectually understand it.

Glen Doyle:

Yeah. It’s a… It’s tough to put into words. And when it first started to get changed and whatnot, I was livid. And I have the Irish temper like everybody else in the family. My initial reactions were very cutting off the nose to spite my face kind of thing. And then I learned that that’s not going to do anything and I have to kind of adapt and take more of a philosophical approach to it. Just see where they were coming from and walk a mile on their shoes just to kind of wrap my head around it. And then it kind of eased the blow a little bit. If that makes any sense.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Sure does.

Glen Doyle:

Yeah.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Now, I’m sure that you almost have walls up to make sure that the Kung Fu is not influencing the stick fighting. But I’m guessing that you don’t have the same rule go in the other way. So, how does the stick fighting influence your Kung Fu?

Glen Doyle:

Again, going back to the beginning when we started talking, the thing about the stick and the Kung Fu, it was all about the similarities. But also, the way I teach the sticks, my dad was very… He taught what he felt like that day. He had a system. He had an agenda of how to teach it but it wasn’t so evident. Like I think he would get me to go over some stuff that he taught me the week before and they based on what I did incorrectly or what I did correctly, that would shape what we work on that day. When I started to teach it, I found that the way I taught it was very much influenced by the way I learned Kung Fu. Meaning, you learn your stances. You learn your foundations, boom, boom, boom, boom. When my dad taught me, I got stances and whatnot. But he got me into the stick punches, then he got me into what the hand was doing. And I know I’m using a lot of terms that people are kind of not going to understand because they don’t 38:05 the style. But he got me chasing the stick and crashing the gates and all these things. But I think, if he had more of a system in place, I probably would have learned it quicker because it took a while. Because, I mean, I was only 7 years old when I started, right? But I find that the Kung Ku influenced me in the way I taught the stick. Because I, for a lack of a better word, I systematized it in the fact that I did stances fist, all footwork, footwork, footwork. Because dad was really big on footwork. But I think, even though he was big on footwork, he kept throwing other things at me just to kind of keep the ball rolling. In his mind, I was learning at a pace that he was happy with. Whereas when I teach, if you don’t get your stances and you footwork, you’re not learning anything else. You’re going to be holding the stick forever doing nothing with it because it’s all going to be from the waist down. And that’s very Kung Fu – stances, stances, stances. Strong horse, strong punch – that’s it. That’s the two things you need before you do anything else. And I got to that point when I taught. The similarities between the footwork was very interesting because we have a thing in our style… Because it comes from fencing footwork initially. And then with the boxing influence, the heels are a little different and we step down heel-toe and then we really calmly drag the back leg when we were dancing. And I found… It’s so amazing because in the Hung Gar style of Gung Fu that I learned, it’s almost exactly the same. When you step from a cat stance, you step down heel-toe and then you pop back into your horse stance. And if I had to explain, the stepping in the Irish stick fighting and the stepping in Kung Fu, if I use heel-toe-drag, it works the exact same for both styles. So, the influence, if you want to use that term, was all about the similarities. The Kung Fu wouldn’t give influence anything technically in sticks. Because I wanted to make sure that the way it was passed onto me, I pass on to other people. So, I very evident about that. But I did use the way of explaining Kung Fu, the way that Kung Fu was taught to me, I did let that influence the way I explain the sticks. So, I hope I’m makings sense the way I put that out for you there. I have a tendency to be quite verbose and quite 40:50 And then at the end of the five minutes, people go, I didn’t understand a damn thing you just said. So.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Well, as you were talking, I’m doing it.

Glen Doyle:

Okay.

Jeremy Lesniak:

I’m taking those steps. And yeah, I can certainly see the similarities there. My experience with two-handed weapons is limited to Japanese style sword and very little. But the footwork there from what I was taught sounds very similar to what you’re describing, so.

Glen Doyle:

Yeah.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Makes all kind of sense.

Glen Doyle:

Yeah. But I’ll do, Jeremy, when we get off, I will send you some video links of me actually teaching.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Oh, perfect.

Glen Doyle:

Just for you. I’ll just send it for you.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Sure. I would watch them

Glen Doyle:

In that way, you can see what we’re talking about. I don’t think it’s going to… I think you’re getting what I’m saying but I think if you see the way I teach it, you’ll go oh, okay. So, I’ll do that for you. I know right now, the listeners are like what about us? But you get special treatment, so.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Well, I appreciate that. I’ve been doing all the work here, so.

Glen Doyle:

There you go.

Jeremy Lesniak:

You and I are doing the work. Listeners, they just get to enjoy all of this. Cool. All right. Well, when you look at this – how do I want to call it – this hybridized martial arts mindset that has become you and these various influences that you have.

Glen Doyle:

Yup.

Jeremy Lesniak:

It’s pretty clear how important your father was. I mean, he started you and gave you this foundation and you’ve added to it and expanded it. But what would you want to add on? If there was someone that you could train with that you haven’t, who would that be?

Glen Doyle:

You mean living or dead? Or just living?

Jeremy Lesniak:

Living or dead. Anywhere in the world, anywhere in time.

Glen Doyle:

My dad was very much influenced by Jack Dempsey.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Okay.

Glen Doyle:

So, I would say probably Jack Dempsey for a couple of reasons. One, because of my dad’s movement was very much like Jack Dempsey. Because he was a big Jack Dempsey fan and also because of the boxing. But also, Jack Dempsey was quite an interesting person because… I don’t know if a lot of people know this but I believe he was in the coast guard, if I’m not mistaken. Now, I could be mistaken about that. And if I am, I apologize. But I know he was in service in some point and I think it was the coast guard. But he taught a lot of self-defense stuff. It wasn’t just boxing. It was knees and elbows and whatnot. So, he was a very, very well-rounded. And I think he would just be an amazing person to train with. Simply because he’s almost what I would say a similar thing to what I do is that he’s got the boxing but then on the other side of the coin, he had the other fighting techniques that were, if you want to call them, street or a little more lower body and upper body. Because with the knees and strikes and the elbows and whatnot. So, I think he would be an amazing person to train with. I would love to talk to him about his mindset. Because he had that ever forward kind of attack. And when my dad used to teach the sticks, he’s always going to say that phrase – ever forward, ever forward. So, just on that alone, I think that would be my choice. I would love to go train with him and just to pick his brain and just to see how he saw the martial world, and see how he would approach it. So, that would be my answer.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Nice. I’m sure from your time training and travelling, teaching – whether it’s your own students or seminars – you’ve got a lot of stories. What’s your favorite one? It can be sad, it can be happy, it can be funny. I love the stories that martial artists have and that’s really the root of this show. It was I just want an excuse to get people to tell me their stories. So, what’s yours?

Glen Doyle:

Wow. Can I get a tone for the story? Do you want a story of me learning from someone or do you want me teaching someone?

Jeremy Lesniak:

The one that… So, here’s the set up. You and I are at a barbecue and we find out that we’re both martial artists.

Glen Doyle:

Uh-hum.

Jeremy Lesniak:

We’re sharing a beer, whiskey or whatever.

Glen Doyle:

Okay.

Jeremy Lesniak:

And I tell you about the ridiculous time that Bill Wallace kicked me in the ear and said some horribly inappropriate things.

Glen Doyle:

Bill Wallace kicked you in the ear, too?

Jeremy Lesniak:

Oh, yeah. And I cannot repeat what he said on the air because it’s that terrible. I’ll tell you after. So, there’s that story. And you’re trying to meet me or one up me with one of your ridiculous or fun or impressive stories from your time. So, what would that story be?

Glen Doyle:

Well, first of all, just let me say that I, too, have been kicked in the ear by Mr. Wallace. So.

Jeremy Lesniak:

It’s a great club to be in, isn’t it?

Glen Doyle:

Yeah. He… I was in Quebec at the Capital Conquest. I was teaching there and it was the first time I met him. He’s an amazing man, don’t get me wrong. But yeah. He just targeted me for the whole weekend. I don’t know what I did but he would not leave me alone. And the sick part of me kind liked the attention but man, it was an interesting thing. So, we have that to share, you and I. Just wanted to say that.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Well, that’s… I train with Mr. Wallace now.

Glen Doyle:

Okay. I don’t know if he remembers me. But if you say my name…

Jeremy Lesniak:

He probably does.

Glen Doyle:

… in Quebec Capital Conquest.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Yeah.

Glen Doyle:

You can see if here remembers me. He might not but.

Jeremy Lesniak:

I bet he does because I’ve seen his memory in action. And it is impressive. This is for you as well as everyone else listening, when he pulls someone up, he’s gotten very good over his years at identifying who’s going to be a great training partner or a great Uke. Someone who will play along, who has the right sense of humor but also has enough skill for him to work with in his demonstrations. So, it is an amazing compliment across multiple factors when he pulls you up.

Glen Doyle:

Yeah. Oh, well that’s… I’ll take that.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Yeah. As you should.

Glen Doyle:

Man. I mean, there’s two stories that I’d love to tell only because I think they really shape me as the instructor that I am. So, maybe that is something you’re interested in. And it’s interesting because, like I said, I have my two main instructors. I have my dad and I have Sifu Lore. And I have kind of one story from each. So, would you like me to just pick one?

Jeremy Lesniak:

You can tell both.

Glen Doyle:

Okay. The first is my dad. And this was when I was young, and I never forgot this. Because I thought at that moment he was the meanest man in the world. And then looking back on it now, it’s an amazing thing. But I was in elementary school. I believe I was in grade 4, maybe grade 5, and for some reason… A little bit about me for people, because people don’t know me, my mom is like 4’11”. My dad was 5’3″. So, I’m 5’4″. I’m a giant in my family. But anyway, I was little. I was a really little kid. So, grade 4 or grade 5. And for some reason, this kid in grade 8 just didn’t like me and was giving me some grief after school. But I was fast, like I could run really, really fast. So, school ended. The bell ran and off I went. I live about 6 blocks from the school. So, I was full out sprint. Jesse Owens would be looking at me going, not bad. Like I was gone. And I got home and he couldn’t catch me. He was close but he didn’t catch me. I got in and my dad was home. He shouldn’t have been but he was home because he got rained out. Because, like I said, he was an iron worker. If the weather’s too rough, they don’t connect the beams up high. So, he was home early. I came in huffing and puffing. He asked me what happened. And I said, oh this boy at school wanted to beat me up but don’t worry, I got away. And without a word, he got up and grabbed me by the back of the head, took me outside where the bully was still there, made me stand up to this guy. And of course, I got my butt handed to me. But when my dad figured that I had enough, he stopped it and took me in. And I felt so betrayed and so angry that my dad would do that to me. And he just looked at me and said, you run today, you’re going to run tomorrow, you’re going to run for the rest of your life. No running. And in retrospect now, I think that was something that I took very, very literally. And it shaped me to who I am. Well, I hated it at that time. I think I’m probably the most grateful for that lesson and all the lessons he’s ever taught. So, that’s the story about my dad and not funnier or humorous but life-changing. And for Sifu Lore, do you remember in China when they had the Tiananmen Square stuff going on?

Jeremy Lesniak:

Oh, absolutely.

Glen Doyle:

Well, they had a big vigil in Toronto which is where I train, where the club is. And Toronto is interesting because it has a number of Chinatowns. So, not just one Chinatown. Toronto has a bunch of them. They kind of pop up. And the main ones aren’t Spadina and Dundas. And the old China town – and again, if people don’t know Toronto, this is not really going to be a good reference but it’s close to where city hall is. And it’s called Old Chinatown. And in the ’80s, it was slowly shrinking. And the big Chinatown about 10 blocks away in a place called Spadina and Dundas was going to be the main big Chinatown. But anyway, they were having a big vigil at the city hall for the Tienanmen Square. And the Chinese community, because our club was so involved in the Chinese community, they hired us to do kind of a crowd control. Because they were expecting a lot of people and they expected them to be passionate. So, we were there. I didn’t want to say security but that’s technically what we were, right? But we’re there just to make sure that nothing got out of hand. So, Sifu got us all together. We all went down. It was a lot of people there. It was a big, big gathering. Everybody had candles and whatnot. And so, at this point, I’m in my late teens or early 20s and we all were. We’re all like young studs, young bucks. So, we’re all faced around this one section and the speech has start. And there’s on guy in the crowd starts to get really passionate and wants to go up and speak. So, he tries to push his way up to the stage. And Sifu’s sitting there and he loved his Tim Horton’s coffee. It’s a rule in Canada, you have to love your Tim Horton’s coffee. But anyway, he was having his coffee. And this guy was really, really passionate. He’s like, I want to go up there and speak. He’s saying this in Chinese. I didn’t know what he was saying but I could tell by his body language that he was getting very, very aggressive. So here, all of us, these young bucks full of piss and vinegar, we do Kung Fu, we’re awesome, we’re going to just… We’re just going to be right out of the movie. We’re going to take care of this. People walked up to the guy and at this time, he would probably be late 70s, maybe early 80s. Sifu Lore walked up and he has his coffee in one hand. And he’s like, look, you can’t go up. And the guy just made this rushing motion. And to be honest, to this day, I blinked and Sifu threw this uppercut out of nowhere. Just enough to knock the guy down. And it diffuses the situation. It was an amazing thing because he just gave him this uppercut out of nowhere. The guy went down. And while the guy is falling, Sifu’s trying to explain to him look, you can’t go up there. He’s still trying to explain to him after he just knocked him. So, anyway, it diffused to take the guy away and whatnot. And we’re standing there feeling like the most useless people in the world. Our Sifu who’s not exactly a young person took care of this guy. All these young guys are standing around, didn’t know what happened. And we looked at… When we went out, one of us said, Sifu, we’re so sorry that we didn’t do it. And he goes, ah, you know, I’m not a master. I’m not a Kung Fu master. And we were looking at him like, what are you talking about? And he goes, I spilled my coffee! If I was a real Kung Fu master, I wouldn’t have spilled a drop. I’m not a master. He was shaking his head. And I found that to be the funniest thing because it really set the tone for Sifu. Because when I joined, and it was a traditional Kung Fu club, he told me call him Jimmy. His English name is Jimmy Lore. His Chinese name is Lore King Hong. And I did it for about a year and it just didn’t feel right so I started calling him Sifu. But his attitude towards titles really affected me. So, even though I have a Sifu title, I don’t really make people call me that. And I think I get it from that story. Just because he was so innocently casual about ah, I’m not a master. I spilled my coffee. I just… I close my eyes and I can still see it happening. And it really impacted me as a martial arts instructor because his honesty about it was humorous. But at the same time, it was such a raw honesty that I think it really affected me as an instructor where I didn’t get so hung up on the titles, and I didn’t get so hung up on being perfect. I got more about the execution. And if a technique is meant that you don’t get punched and you do it but it’s not the way that you learned it but you still don’t get punched, it’s a good technique. It worked. So, I kind of used that story to justify or explain how I kind of approach sometimes when I teach. Where if, in the heat of the moment, something changes, at least it still worked for you.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Right.

Glen Doyle:

So, yeah.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Those are two great stories.

Glen Doyle:

Oh, okay.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Yeah.

Glen Doyle:

I don’t know if that’s good enough.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Knocks it out of the park. That’s what I was looking for.

Glen Doyle:

Yeah, yeah. So, one was a life lesson for me and the other was a lesson on humility and casualness of the additive of the title, I guess. You could class it as56:13

Jeremy Lesniak:

Undoubtedly. Now, what’s keeping you motivated? What are you looking forward to as you look out over life? I’m assuming you’re not planning to stop training.

Glen Doyle:

No. I had to stop training for a number of years in 2012, 2013. It’s nothing to do with training. It’s an out of training injury. It’s more hereditary. But my shoulders, I have this thing called frozen shoulder. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of that.

Jeremy Lesniak:

I have.

Glen Doyle:

I got it in my left shoulder and then I got it in my right shoulder. But I have it really bad. But it is genetic. My dad had it in his elbow. He got frozen elbow when he was older. And what would happen was, it came out of nowhere. I went to every person you could think of and no one really knows what causes it. They have theories. But I woke up with it one day… I just woke up with it. Then I had it. I went to bed feeling fine, woke up the next day and my left shoulder, I could barely lift my arm. And it was really debilitating and I couldn’t teach. So, I had to… I thought, actually, my teaching was over. I thought my career was over because I couldn’t do much with it. And then they say it can last anywhere from a month to two years. And mine lasted the full two because my body is that way. But it started to loosen up. I mean I went to rehab and stuff and it did help a bit. But teaching was really tough. And then as the left one was getting better, it actually moved over to my right. I had to deal with that on my right. So, I only told recently… Like in the last year and a half have I really started teaching again. So, I didn’t do a lot of physical stuff because I couldn’t move. So, I gained a lot of weight and I’m still happy with where my weight is. So, what I’m looking forward to now is my shoulders are… They’re still an issue but I can teach again and whatnot. So, I’m looking forward to using the teaching and my training to try to get back to where I feel a little healthier. So, I’m using it as my motivation but also as my tool to reinvent myself at this age. I’m 53 now. So, I’m just trying to get to a point where I can still teach, do things. But also, just to improve my overall mobility and get my health back to where I want it to be. I mean, I’m not in poor health by any means. There are people on this planet way worse off than me and I feel blessed that I am where I am. But I’m going to use what I learned and what I teach and whatnot to try to use that as the catalyst to get me back to where I want to be physically. So, that’s probably where I am right now. And it’s been frustrating. It’s really a test of my patience and you really try to look at yourself in a different light. When you think something you’ve had for so long which just suddenly got taken away from you. Because I thought it was gone. I thought my martial art career was done. I really did and I had to embrace that. And it was a pretty dark time for a couple of years. I mean, I’m still coming out of it. I’m still a little… I still have some dark days. When I can’t move like I used to, it’s frustrating. But there’s motivation in frustration if you know where to look. And that’s kind of where I’m looking now. So, that’s what I’m looking forward to in the future. It’s just to get myself back. And also, I haven’t given up on wanting to pass my family’s stick fighting style on to the world. I still want to do that. And that, again, is why I started the online course. Because it allows me to teach on my good days when my shoulders are really working well and whatnot. Because doing live seminars is great but every once in a while, I get up to do a seminar in some bad days. It’s a bad shoulder day like I call it.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Yeah.

Glen Doyle:

And it’s like, ugh. Because when I go to teach a seminar, I’m all about the people taking the seminar. They’re giving up their time for me. They’re allowing me to step into their minds and move things around. The way they move physically, the way they move tactically – that is a huge honor. And I never want to misrepresent myself and I never want to take that time with them and not maximize it out so they’d benefit. So, if I book a seminar and then on that day, my shoulders aren’t working for me and they only get 50% of what I can do or they only get half of me demonstrating and showing how it’s supposed to work, I feel like I let them down. And I don’t want to do that. So, I think that’s probably why I came up with the online thing. Because I can tape it, I can make sure it’s edited in the best way to show the technique, the best way I did it. So, they get that sense. Because I do it like a seminar, obviously, but I’m talking to the camera. But they get to at least see everything I’m talking about. Where in a live seminar, I’m kind of having a bad day, sometimes I have to crossover stuff. And I just don’t think that’s fair. People are giving their time and their physical availability and, again, allowing me to step into their mind and influence the way they move. They’ve got to be getting the best part of me, right? So, that, I’m not there yet. So, that’s why I really tapered back my live seminars right now. Because I’m not into place physically with my shoulders just yet where I know I can show up and be ready to rock and roll for their benefit. Because, again, I’m all about the people taking the seminar. Because I want them to walk out of that seminar going, that was the best three hours, four hours I’ve ever spent. I’m not saying that from an egotistical thing where I want them to tell everybody that. I want them to feel that.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Okay, yeah. I get it. Without going too deep, I’ve experienced not that injury but certainly some injuries that have limited my ability to present information. And I know how frustrating that can be.

Glen Doyle:

Yeah.

Jeremy Lesniak:

When it’s keeping you from multiple goals, your own training, and the ability to pass on your knowledge. I understand that.

Glen Doyle:

Oh, yeah. You shake your fist to the heavens quite a few times.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Now, you mentioned this stuff that’s coming but you don’t have a website. So, what do people do if they want to keep tabs on you and sign up for this course when it’s ready or keep up on where your seminars are going to be?

Glen Doyle:

Well, I have a Facebook Group. There’s a Doyle Irish Stick Fighting Facebook Group and everybody kind of joins that. And anything I have coming up, I make an announcement there. I do have a website. My website is for me as a whole because I’m writer as well and I really embraced it a lot when my shoulders weren’t working so well. So, I write scripts and stuff and I do films and whatnot. So, my website is more of a catchall but there is a page on there that people can write me and contact me and keep tabs on what I’m doing martial arts-wise. I’m a terrible businessman, okay? And I’ve always have been… I’ve lost so much money teaching. I’m surprised my wife is still with me but she’s an angel. And she puts up with so much.

Jeremy Lesniak:

I apologize for laughing.

Glen Doyle:

No.

Jeremy Lesniak:

You’re not the only one.

Glen Doyle:

No, I know.

Jeremy Lesniak:

There’s something about martial artists that inherently, we just want to share.

Glen Doyle:

Yeah.

Jeremy Lesniak:

We just want to give it away. We don’t want to do it for money.

Glen Doyle:

Yeah. And I’ve given a lot away. But you know what? I come from that honestly because, again, going back to Sifu Lore, when I joined Jing Mo in 1980… It was ’81 crossover. It was in the winter of 1981. It was what we call a Dungeon Club. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard that term. But the only way you join is by knowing someone. It’s the old style Chinese club. There’s no advertising. If you know a member, you… Now, I came across it by accident. And I was, again, it was near city hall. I was with some friends down at city hall and I’ve been looking for at martial arts. As usual, I know it sounds really, really stereotypical but I saw a Bruce Lee movie. And I said, wow, I want to do what that guy does. I really want to see what it is. So, I did some research and I found that he did a thing called Kung Fu. So, I said, okay I’m going to try and find Kung Fu. So, I was actively looking for Kung Fu clubs in Toronto and all the ones that I visited, I just… You know when you just don’t feel it? I just wasn’t feeling it. I went to visit all of them and I just wasn’t’ feeling it. So, I was kind of oh, maybe the Kung Fu is not what I’ll do. Maybe I’ll try Taekwondo or an Aikido. There’s a bunch of clubs. Toronto had so many to choose from. So, anyway, I was down at city hall with some friends. I was there to try to impress a girl which I failed miserably. And I was going home and I was cutting through this parking lot to get a street cardio home. And from the 2nd floor fire escape, this fire door was open and I heard all of this clanging and banging and this ruckus. And it sounded like a martial art class because people are making noise and whatnot. So, I was like there shouldn’t be a club here. There’s no markings on the building, there’s nothing. But it was at the 2nd floor that there was a fire escape. And it’s not the kind that you have to pull out. It was just stairs, just metal stairs. So, I just walked up and took a peek in. And I saw all these guys using these weapons. Some guys were 1:07:06 a heavy bag, some guys were doing hand forms and stuff and I kind of peeked in. And Sifu Lore was sitting, watching everybody and he spotted me. And he’s like, hey, what are you doing? I was just startled. I said, sorry I heard what I thought was a martial art class and I was just peeking in. And he told me to come in. And he made me sit down and he made every one of his students do a form for me and show what he taught. I mean, you understand I was in my teens. My hair was long, I look like a punk, really. For lack of a better term. And I couldn’t believe that he made all the students do a form for me and I was sold. And then I said I want to join. So, I showed up the next day and I was like… The average price back then when I looked at all the other clubs, again, this was in the ’80s, it was about $65 to $70 a month to be a member. And he charged me $10. And I couldn’t believe it. I’m like, okay. So, I gave him $10 a month. I trained, I went… It was open every day, seven days a week, from 5 AM to 10 PM everyday. Except on weekends, it was noon to 5 PM. But 5 AM to 10 PM on weekdays. I went everyday, didn’t miss a day for six months. It was insane – the amount of training. And then I have finished my first hand form and we were doing a demo, a show for… I forgot what it was for, some event somewhere in Chinatown. And Sifu asked me to do my form that I just learned. And I was said sure, I’ll do it. So, that was six months in. So, the next day after doing the show, I came in and I came to pay him. And he goes, no, you’re doing so much for me now. You don’t pay no more. So, my entire martial art education, my entire martial art Kung Fu education, cost me $60. So, I’ve come by the giving it away for free, honestly, because I trained with that man till 2008. So, $60 is what I payed for my entire Kung Fu education. It’s ridiculous.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Sounds like you got a good deal.

Glen Doyle:

Yeah. If you calculated the hours of training, I don’t even think… It’s like $0.001. Per hour, I don’t even know what it would be. But yeah. So, I come across it honestly in that regard. Sorry that I went off some tangent there. But I thought I would share that with you because it was the way I was… It was my experience with Kung Fu. He was such a generous man. And as soon as I started doing shows, he was like, okay. You’re sweating for me now. You don’t have to pay no more. So, I’m sure that he would giggle at me telling that story. But yeah. It was always tough for me. When I first started teaching, even when I taught women self-defense and whatnot. It was so hard for me to take their money. It almost felt criminal because I was so used to just teaching.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Yeah.

Glen Doyle:

But you got overhead. You’ve got to pay the bills. The thing with Sifu, because he was so big in the Chinese community, he didn’t pay for the space. They just gave it to him. The Chinese communities then. So, he had no overhead. So, it was a little different for him. But you don’t kind of factor that in when you’re kind of learning. You’re just wow, I got all these for $60. And now, I’m charging people all this money to teach what I learned for $60. There’s a little bit of guilt there. But I got over it eventually.

Jeremy Lesniak:

I don’t know if I agree with that.

Glen Doyle:

Well, maybe I didn’t. But as far as my…

Jeremy Lesniak:

Maybe mostly, halfway.

Glen Doyle:

As far as my wife’s concerned, I’ve got no work, okay? Between you and me.

Jeremy Lesniak:

Okay. All right. I won’t tell. I promise. This has been a lot of fun. I’ve really enjoyed getting to talk to you today and totally worth the wait to reschedule. So, again, thank you for your flexibility.

Glen Doyle:

Thank you so much.

Jeremy Lesniak:

And I want to ask just one more kindness if I would.

Glen Doyle:

Sure.

Jeremy Lesniak:

What parting words would you offer up to the folks listening today?

Glen Doyle:

Well, I would say… I’m almost paraphrasing my dad to a degree but not so much. If you’re taking a martial art, it comes from somewhere. I understand that the current state of mind is new is better, everything needs to be updated. But through evolution and actual life and death experiences, those techniques you’re learning have been passed on for a reason. And they belong there because they earned the right to be there. So, maybe just respect the past so much. Don’t be into it in an all-fire hurry to change things. Maybe just see how you can adapt them. And the other thing is, don’t be just a fighter; be a warrior. And that’s the one thing that my dad and Sifu Lore, they said it in different ways but they said the same thing. A fighter is someone who fights to keep themselves safe or to overcome their opponent. But a warrior not only trains for self-preservation but also fights for those who can’t fight for themselves. And when you’re a martial artist, you’re taking on a responsibility from the ages before you, from the generations before you. So, try to be a warrior and always remember that there’s people out there that can’t fight for themselves. If you have the opportunity to do it in a safe legal way, always try to fight for those who can’t fight for themselves. Because it comes with the territory of being a martial artist. Maybe it sounds a little cliché but I think that advice has really kind of rested in my heart. And so, I’d probably say that as my words of wisdom, I guess.

Jeremy Lesniak:

I bet you could tell I had a ton of fun talking to Sifu Doyle. I mean, what a great guy. What great stories. And how powerful it is that he gets to pass on something he loves that is both martial arts and his family? I’ll admit. I’m a bit jealous. Thank you sir for coming on the show today. You can find show notes with a bunch of photos and notes and links and other cool stuff at whistlekickmartialartsradio.com. If you hit whistlekick.com, you can sign up for the newsletter, you could make a purchase. And don’t forget the code PODCAST15 to save 15%. Uniforms, gears, shirts, sweatshirts, sweatpants, water bottles, training journal – there’s a bunch of stuff. I just added a bunch of stuff last night. And if you want to just kind of follow all the other stuff that we’re doing, social media – YouTube, Instagram, Facebook, Twitter. We are @whistlekick. My direct email address, [email protected]. We keep it simple. And I thank you for your time today. Thanks for coming by, for giving me an opportunity to host this show. Until next time. Train hard, smile, and have a great day.

Episode 360 – Sifu Glen Doyle Sifu Glen Doyle is a martial arts practitioner and instructor. He is a former Kung Fu champion and practices Irish Martial Arts.

#Canada #Irish Martial Arts #Kung fu

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dumbledearme · 6 years

Text

chapter twenty-seven—a childish game

read Child of Land and Sea here

Act IV — To Stop The Tide

Part II — It scared me out of my wits, a corpse falling to bits, then I opened my eyes and the nightmare was me!

The Demeter kids were sweeping out their cabin and making fresh flowers grow in their window boxes. The guys in the Hermes cabin were scrambling around in a panic, stashing dirty laundry under their beds and accusing each other of taking stuff.

Over at the Aphrodite cabin, Silena Beauregard was just coming out, checking items off the inspection scroll. She was nice, but an absolute neat freak, the worst inspector. She liked things to be pretty. Problem was, Andy didn't do pretty.

The Poseidon cabin was at the end of the row of "male god" cabins on the right side of the green. Andy dashed inside and found Tyson sweeping the floor. "Andy!" he bellowed. He dropped his broom and ran at her.

"Watch the ribs!" She asked as he crushed her with his big cyclops arms.

"You okay?" he asked. "I'm glad you're here, Andy. Now we can eat peanut butter sandwiches and ride fish ponies! We can fight monsters and see Anthony and make things go BOOM!"

"I dearly hope you don't mean all at the same time, Tyson..." Andy took a look around and sighed in relief. Tyson had cleaned pretty much everything.

"Oh, my," Silena Beauregard said, entering the cabin. "Well, I had my doubts, Andy. You kind of look like a slob. But you clean up nicely. I'll remember that." She winked and left the room.

In the afternoon, Andy had sword practice with Quintus. The guy was good! Andy was doing her best, but the guy always ended the fight with his sword at her throat.

"You're good," he told her. "But your guard is terrible."

"Have you always been a swordsman?" she asked.

"I've been many things," he answered looking over to where Tyson was playing with Mrs O'Leary, who he called the 'little doggie.'

Andy eyed the mark on his neck and realized it had a definite shape – a bird with folded wings, like a quail or something. "What is that on your neck?" It wasn't a tattoo, she noticed. It was an old burn; like he had been branded or something.

"A reminder," he said. "Now, shall we go again?" and he pressed Andy harder.

Andy was having trouble sleeping, so she sat by the window, watching the sea, until she noticed a strange light in the room. The saltwater fountain was glowing. Rainbow colors shimmered through it, and a pleasant voice was saying, "Please, deposit one drachma."

Tyson was snoring real loud. Intrigued, Andy tossed a coin through the mist. She saw the dark shore of a river and a boy squatted at the riverbank, tending a campfire. The flames burned blue. Nico was throwing pieces of paper into the fire - his old trading cards. He looked older than he actually was. His hair had grown longer; it was shaggy and down to his shoulders. His eyes bared no emotion, as if he was dead inside.

"Useless," he muttered, tossing another card into the blue flames. "I can't believe I ever liked this stuff."

"A childish game, master," another voice agreed. Andy couldn't see who had spoken.

Nico stared across the river and Andy recognized where he was: the Underworld. He was camping at the edge of the River Styx. "I've failed," he said. "There's no way to get her back." He raised his head, waiting. "Is there? Speak!"

Something shimmered. The form of a man, a shadow, a ghost. "It has never been done," it said. "But there may be a way."

"Tell me," Nico commanded.

"An exchange," the ghost said. "A soul for a soul."

"I've offered!"

"Not yours. You cannot offer your father a soul he will eventually collect anyway. Nor will he be anxious for the death of his son. I mean a soul that should have died already. Someone who has cheated death."

Nico's face darkened. "You're talking about murder."

"I'm talking about justice," the ghost argued. "Vengeance."

"Those are not the same thing."

The ghost laughed dryly. "You will learn differently as you grow older."

"Why can't I at least summon her? I want to talk to her. She would... she would tell me what to do."

"I'll tell you what to do," the ghost promised. "Have I not saved you many times? Did I not lead you through the maze and teach you to use your powers? Do you want revenge for your sister or not?"

Nico looked down. "Very well. You have a plan, I suppose."

"Oh, yes," the ghost said, sounding quite pleased. "We have many dark roads to travel. We must start-" The image shimmered. Nico vanished.

Andy stood in he middle of the cabin, listening to the ocean waves outside. Nico was alive. And he would come for her.

Next morning, Andy was having breakfast by herself, (Tyson had already finished), when Anthony and Grover sat with her. "He wants you to convince me," Grover was saying.

"What are you talking about?"

"The Labyrinth," Anthony revealed. It was hard to pay attention to what he was saying since all the other campers were stealing glances at them and whispering that the son of Athena was sitting at the Poseidon table. And Anthony was right next to her, touching her arm and everything.

"Campers aren't allowed to switch tables," Andy said softly.

"Forget that," Anthony said. "Grover is in trouble. There's only one way we can figure to help him. It's the Labyrinth. That's what Clarisse and I have been investigating."

Andy swallowed, trying not to blush. "You mean the maze where they kept the Minotaur?"

"Exactly."

"And... like everything else, it's here in America? Under some building?"

Anthony rolled his eyes. "Under some building? That's the best you can do? Please, Andy. The Labyrinth is huge! It wouldn't fit under a single city, much less a single building."

Andy thought about Nico. "Is it part of the Underworld?"

"No," Anthony frowned. "I suppose there may be passages from the Labyrinth down into the Underworld. But the Underworld is way, way down. The Labyrinth is right under the surface of the mortal world, kind of like a second skin. It's been growing from thousands of years, connecting everything together underground. You can get anywhere through the Labyrinth."

"If you don't get lost," Grover muttered. "And die a horrible death."

"Grover, there has to be a way," Anthony said. "Clarisse lived."

"Barely!" he argued. "And the other guy-"

"He was driven insane. He didn't die."

"Oh, joy." Grover's lower lip quivered. "That makes me feel so much better."

"Alright," Andy said. "What the hell is going on? What's this about Clarisse and a crazy guy?"

Anthony glanced over toward the Ares table. Clarisse was watching them. "Last year," he said, turning to Andy, "Clarisse went on a mission for Chiron."

"I remember," Andy said. "It was secret."

Anthony nodded. "It was secret, because she found Chris Rodriguez."

"The guy from the Hermes cabin?"

"Yeah," Anthony said. "Before he joined the Titan army, he and Clarisse were-" Anthony cleared his throat. "Well, last summer, he just appeared in Phoenix, near Clarisse's house. I mean, something obviously drew him there."

"I'm not sure I-"

"He was wandering around the desert, in a hundred and twenty degrees, in full Greek armor, babbling about string."

"Oh."

"He'd been driven completely insane. Clarisse hid him in her house so the mortals wouldn't institutionalize him. She tried to nurse him back to health. Chiron came out and interviewed him, but it wasn't much good. The only thing they got out of him: Luke's men have been exploring the Labyrinth."

"Why?"

"We weren't sure," Anthony said. "That's why Clarisse went on a scouting expedition. Chiron kept things hushed up because he didn't want anyone panicking. He got me involved because... well, the Labyrinth has always been one of my favorite subjects. The architecture involved-" his expression turned a little dreamy. "The builder, Daedalus, was a genius!"

"Don't geek out on me."

"Fine," he sighed. "The point is, the Labyrinth has entrances everywhere. If Luke could figure out how to navigate it, he could move his army around with incredible speed."

"But... It's a freaking maze!"

"Full of horrible traps," Grover agreed. "Dead ends. Illusions. Psychotic goat-killing monsters."

"Not if you had Ariadne's string," Anthony said with a grin. "She guided Theseus out of the maze. The string was a navigation instrument of some kind, invented by Daedalus. And Chris Rodriguez was mumbling about a string."

"So Luke wants the string?" Andy tried to keep up. "Why? What is he planning?"

Anthony shook his head. "I don't know. I thought maybe he wanted to invade camp through the maze, but that doesn't make any sense. The closest entrances Clarisse found were in Manhattan. I don't understand what Luke wants, but I do know this: the Labyrinth might be the key to Grover's problem."

Andy blinked. "You think Pan in underground?"

"It would explain why he's been impossible to find."

Grover shuddered. "Satyrs hate going underground. No searcher would ever try going in that place."

"Precisely," Anthony said. "However, it is dangerous. The Labyrinth reads your thoughts. It was designed to fool you, to trick you and kill you. Unless you can make it work for you."

"I can't do it," Grover hugged his stomach. "I'm gonna lose it all!" He stood up and ran away dramatically.

Anthony got up as well. "Come on, Seaweed Brain. Follow me."

Andy didn't ask where they were going. She just followed Anthony into the woods. As they walked, she told him about Nico.

"He's summoning the dead? That's not good."

"The ghost was giving him bad advice," Andy said. "Telling him to take revenge."

"Yeah... spirits are never good advisers. They've got their own agendas. Old grudges. And they resent the living."

"He's going to come after me," Andy mumbled. "And the spirit mentioned the maze."

He nodded. "That settles it. We have to figure out the Labyrinth."

"Maybe," Andy said uncomfortably. "But who sent the Iris-message? If Nico didn't now I was there-"

"What are you doing here?" Juniper appeared before them.

"What are you doing here?" Andy asked.

"I live here," she shrugged. "I'm a dryad."

"You live here?" Andy repeated. "In the boulders?"

"In the juniper! Duh."

"We came to see you," Anthony said quickly. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Juniper sniffled. "But Grover... He seems so distraught. All year he's been out looking for Pan. And every time he comes back, it's worse. I thought maybe, at first, he was seeing another tree."

"I'm sure he's not," Anthony assured her.

"He had a crush on a blueberry bush once," Juniper said miserably.

"Really?" Andy smiled.

"Juniper," Anthony took her hand. "Grover would never even look at another tree. He's just stressed out about his searcher's license."

"He can't go underground, Anthony!" she protested. "You can't let him!"

"It might be the only way to help him; if we just knew where to start."

"Try there then," the nymph said, pointing at a crack between two of the largest boulders.

"You want us to go in there?" Andy asked. "Why?" But Anthony simply grabbed her arm and pulled her with him. "It's too narrow!" She complained, but he ducked and started squeezing between the two boulders. Then he yelped and pulled, and Andy tumbled inside after him. Anthony hit the ground and Andy fell on top of him.

They were in complete darkness; their breathing echoing against stone. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yes. You pretty much softened my fall." They got up but didn't let go of each other.

"It's a corridor," Anthony whispered. Andy started forward, but he stopped her. "Don't take another step," he warned. "We need to find the exit." He sounded extremely tense. Andy looked up and realized she couldn't see where they'd fallen in. The ceiling was solid stone. "Two steps back," Anthony advised. They moved together and he started patting the wall.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for the mark of Daedalus."

"The what?"

"Got it!" he said with relief. A tiny fissure began to glow blue. A Greek symbol appeared, the Ancient Greek Delta. The roof slid open and they saw night sky, stars blazing. Metal ladder rungs appeared, leading up.

They made their way around the rock and ran into Clarisse and a bunch of other campers carrying torches. "Where have you two been?" Clarisse demanded. "And if you say you were making out in some corner, I'll-"

Chiron trotted up, followed by Tyson and Grover.

"Andy!" Tyson said. "You're okay?"

"I'm fine. We're fine," she said. "We fell in a hole." The others looked at her skeptically, then at Anthony. "We were not making out!" she exclaimed. "Gods, people. Get a life."

"You fell into a hole?" Clarisse asked, suspiciously.

Anthony took a deep breath. "Chiron... maybe we should talk about this at the Big House."

Clarisse gasped. "You found it, didn't you?"

Anthony nodded. The campers started asking questions, but Chiron sent them to bed.

"This explains a lot," Clarisse said, watching them go. "It explains what Luke is after."

"You don't mean..." Andy shivered. "That was an entrance? An invasion route straight into the heart of the camp?"

Anthony turned toward her, his eyes dark with worry, but he didn't say anything else.

#andromeda #andy jackson #anthony chase #fanfic #genderbend #dfcrosas #child of land and sea #fem percy jackson #to stop the tide

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stretchjournalemerson · 3 years

Text

Contrails

By Anthony Manupelli

Part One: Peace

Had a talk with my old man,

Said help me understand.

He said, turn 68, you’ll renegotiate

Don’t stop this train

- John Mayer

A month before the crash, it all came back to me. I spent hours, upon hours in fear. I hadn’t given it any thought since I was a little kid. Aside from the good memories, such as watching the Curious George movie with my siblings on a warm summer morning in 2007, I remember panicking about it when I was all alone.

The night it changed; I was nine. It was long past my bedtime and I had school the next day. My stomach turned as my brain spiraled out of control. My make-shift room in the basement of my childhood home had been repurposed from a small office to an oversized bedroom that I so thrillingly shared with spiders, the dark, and my overwhelming thoughts. Despite the unnecessary amount of space I had, I felt so trapped. Coming off a hot streak of realizations, including my discovery of the fact that Santa wasn’t real, and that the WWE was staged, I took a deep dive into an abyss of analysis into what was real and what was fake. And then, the mother of all struggles occurred.

I was raised Catholic and didn’t think much of it for most of my early years. We honestly weren’t very committed churchgoers. My siblings and I would fight with our parents pretty often about attending church early on Sunday morning. We kind of all just accepted the fact that our mother wanted us to be Catholic. So, I never really delved deeper into a spiritual awakening, I just did as I was told. But time and time again, I discovered I shouldn’t simply accept the world that is placed in front of me and the fact that I will only find truth in life by constantly questioning my reality, I began to question my mother’s teachings. I froze. As if I was hit on the top of the head, my brain began buzzing, and I fell down a rabbit hole, a psychotic conundrum of thought. The topic of my panic: what happens when we die?

“What happens after this, what happens, what happens, what is happening to me”? I couldn’t stop. For the first time in my life, I was spiraling. My blood curled, I felt it in my face. I rolled into a ball and clenched my stomach to avoid spilling out its contents. I felt my fingers numb and my brain freeze. All of this, as if no other human being had gone through a spiritual crisis or could understand my confusion and panic.

I continuously asked, “what if…”, and it never ended. At nine, I was bargaining with myself to come to terms with something that no human had ever completely understood. My panic stirred so deep into the night, that I was met with my father’s questioning, the next morning, as he prepared for his day.

“What’s wrong Anthony, you’re freaking out. What happened?”

“It’s nothing, it’s nothing, Dad. I’m fine.” I figured if I didn’t say it out loud then it wouldn’t be true.

“No Anthony seriously, this stops right now. What’s wrong?”

I didn’t want to invite my poor father into this personal hell of my over analysis of the spacetime continuum. So, I simplified it to the catalyst of my fear and promptly begged,

“Dad, what really happens when we die?”

He paused. I never knew if he did so to make me feel understood and calm me down or to actually process the question. Regardless, he resolved.

“You’ll understand when you’re older.”

And instantly, I was relieved. I never understood why. But from that moment forward, I never feared death or thought about it again. At least not in the science-fiction, fantastical, terrifying way my brain had me pondering in those moments. Not once, did I waste an ounce of my time fearing death, not until much later.

Part Two: Body Separation

Upside down

Who's to say what's impossible and can't be found

I don't want this feeling to go away

Please don't go away

-Jack Johnson

I remember my dad’s face when I got the car. As I drove out of my driveway, alone, for the first time, he waved goodbye. And it was at that moment, I realized I was grown up. I wasn’t the kid he had calmed down years before. I had a new cast of characters in my life. Friends he didn’t know but they were the people I brought my concerns, dreams, and questions to. I became my own person without even realizing it. And he wasn’t waving goodbye to me. He was waving goodbye to the little kid he had known all the years prior. He was waving goodbye to my childhood.

But time marched on and I became incredibly fond of my car. I drove all the time. I mean all of the time. Every month of the year, everywhere my friends or I went. I was always the one driving and I loved it.

Massachusetts winters are pretty brutal and it's usually hard to find something to do. So my car became not only a vehicle of physical transportation but an escape from the freezing cold and lack of activity. That car brought me together with so many people. The sheer amount of people who had taken a ride in my car had become a running joke. It encapsulated my entire teenage experience; it brought me so far away from home yet together with so many people.

The summer returned and it was time for one of my childhood best friends to go to school. I was the last person to send them off as I dropped them off to their house after spending the entire night out in commemoration of our years together.

I remember returning home, alone, after the sunrise, devastated. It was one of the most painful goodbyes I’ve ever had to do. It was a goodbye, not a see you soon.

So, when my dad found me in my car, he comforted me and asked why I was so upset.

“My childhood’s over dad. I’m not a kid anymore, and I don’t know how and don’t want to be an adult”.

He paused again and gave me time to relax. We both knew I just needed to get some sleep.

“I never grew up. I’ve aged but we’re all still kids at heart” he offered.

Time marched on. And despite my initial doubt of my dad’s input, he was right. I had aged but I was still a little kid at heart. This became clear as I sat in my bed on a windy December night and began to panic again.

“What happens when we die”?

I hadn’t thought about that in nearly a decade. It hadn’t kept me awake, late at night, since I was nine. But here I was all grown up panicking in my top bunk in a new house, in a new room. The location, people, and time changed, but my fear remained the same.

Only this time, the fear sweltered unlike ever before. I found myself at a crossroads once again. However, my dad’s words and my logic would not comfort me. I needed something more.

But, after dwelling for over a month, I received my answer in the most unexpected scenario.

Part Three: Entering Darkness

Once in a while, when it’s good

It’ll feel like it should

And they’re all still around

And you’re still safe and sound

And you don’t miss a thing

‘Til you cry

When you’re driving away in the dark

-Also, John Mayer

The moments leading up to the crash were so normal, completely tranquil. I regret not paying attention to what song was playing; I was so focused on where I was going that I forgot to take-in where I was.

The road we were travelling down was a two-lane highway. Visibility was terrible, there were no streetlights the entire way as we drove through a road carved through the wilderness. The pine trees towered over the car, looming left to right; the moon casting their shadows onto the pavement. A light fog spilled onto the road perpetuating the gloominess of the scene.

I remember looking out the window and noticing a valley of dead trees. I wondered what had happened to them, all the way out there, alone. I had traveled that road before, many times. When I was younger, I never noticed the dead trees. I must have been enamored by the color of the other ones. But my attention no longer resided with what is. What once was seemed to be the solution to all my problems.

If I could just figure out why, then I’d feel safe again.

Why had all of this happened?

Why are we here?

Why me?

I became a full-time philosopher as a compulsion for my obsessive thoughts. To no avail, of course. None of it mattered anyway.

As I continued traveling down the road, I realized how comfortable I had become with it. The low visibility, the spooky trees, the moonlight, the life and death no longer stroking fear as I moved along.

I had traveled this road so many times before that I was as familiar with its features as I was myself.

So, it was in complete shock when I slowed down and took a left turn off the road only to be met with a blinding flash of white, followed by immediate darkness.

Part Four: Seeing the Light

The sun is going down

There's shadows all around

And I feel more than wine

We must do this again sometime

But I can't tell you when

But what a joy it's been

All that we have is now

- Jesse Winchester

…

My dad and I have a term for the situations life throws your way when you are doing one thing and then find yourself completely lost in an unexpected situation. We refer to this special place of confusion/limbo as “Claire’s Living Room”.

To provide an example of this phenomena without going into detail of its origins, I realized I was in Claire’s Living Room as I sat alone in a hospital bed, with an IV in my left arm, listening to the staff count down to the new year in the break room.

2020 was a tumultuous year, but I truly did not expect to be welcomed into 2021 by a man in a cloak in a blindingly bright room. That man, of course, being one of the nicest doctors I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. I just wish it had occurred under different circumstances.

They checked my vitals, all was well. Some slight bruising on my right ribs, but nothing that wouldn’t heal in a matter of days to weeks.

“Do you have any other concerns or questions for me?” He asked at just about two in the morning.

I couldn’t believe I was alive and okay. No one was seriously injured. No one had died. Yet, it felt like a part of me had been permanently altered. The crash was bad; really bad. Fortunately, both cars had done their job and protected every passenger. Everyone was wearing their seat belts and no other cars were there at the time of the accident. The street shut down for a short period of time to assist in the tow and clean up of both cars.

My memory of the aftermath begins with me already out of the car. I must have subconsciously exited the vehicle after getting hit with the airbags. The car was totaled. Immediately. Way gone. I remember watching the first officers and passersby see my car and look in disgust at how twisted it was. I was still out of it, so noticing other people looking shocked to see me standing on my feet brought tears to my eyes.

I wasn’t hurt, at least not physically. I went back into the wreck to find my phone. As more people began arriving at the scene, more strangers, cops, firemen, I began to panic. The situation was easily the most overwhelming experience of my life. And loud. I mean earth shatteringly loud. From the moment of impact, to the ringing in my ears, to the first responders, the sirens, the people.

But I couldn’t find my phone. I needed to call my parents and tell them to come to the scene. I needed them to know I was okay, to hear my voice before a police officer called them to inform them, I had been involved in an accident.

I was petrified that my parents would think I was dead.

After a few minutes of searching, I asked one of my friends to call my dad. My dad would explain to me later that my friend’s phone call sent him into panic. Apparently, he was sitting with my mom when he received the call. My friend was so shaken up that he could barely get the words out.

“Anthony, you need to get here.”

“What’s wrong? Where are you? Is everyone okay?” My dad immediately grabbed his things and waved my mom toward the garage.

“Down North Street, outside the state police barracks. We got into an accident, it’s really bad you just need to get here now”.

For about ten minutes, I had no way of communicating to my parents to let them know I was okay. For ten minutes, my parents feared the chance that I might have died. Something no parent should have to think about or go through. Certainly, something I would never have wished to have forced my parents to think about.

It was easily the most painful and anxiety inducing ten minutes of my life. Ten minutes of pure fear. And the people, more people, constantly more people. I had never seen so many people in one place in my entire life. The lights, the noise, the people.

My heart beat wildly, my brain froze once again, my stomach turned in my panic.

But when my parents arrived at the scene and I hugged them and told them I was okay, all my fear absolved.

I never understood how fast something as simple as seeing your family face to face could be taken away in the blink of an eye.

In a flash.

…

As I sat in that hospital bed, I realized I had the answer to my fears, crisis, and confusion all along.

In the face of death, all that matters is love. The only truth in life is found within. Love is the answer: all there ever was, is, and will be. And through love, life is eternal.

I’m not going to sit here and validate the specific hypothesis on near-death-experiences because I truly don’t know. What I will say is that the stages of life, growth, and change all coincide with the supposed course of a near-death-experience. And I don’t know that I would have found solace in my quest for answers if I hadn’t come that close to losing it all.

When I got a taste for nothing, I returned to find everything.

Part Five: Entering the Light

I've looked at life from both sides now

From win and lose and still somehow

It's life's illusions I recall

I really don't know life at all

-Joni Mitchell

Since I was a little kid, I’ve always loved contrails. People usually miss them and/or have no idea what I’m talking about when I use the term. Contrails are the clouds released by planes in the sky. The next time you’re outside, look up and I’m sure you’ll see one. I remember, during early quarantine, not seeing a single plane in the sky as if time had come to a halt. No contrails. Our inability to be with each other prevented their spirited existence within the sky.

When I was younger, I was amazed by them. I always felt like I was watching an artist paint massive strokes up in the sky. They’re beautiful, truly amazing things.

The next time I saw a plane leaving its mark in the sky, contrails had taken on a new meaning. Instead of the stroke of an artist, they are the mark of a lifetime; mysteriously appearing out of thin air, releasing a beautiful stride for all to see, and gradually fading to the stars.

Acknowledgements

I want to thank my family and anyone else that’s ever loved me into being. I love you.

#stretch2021 #memoir

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kelleyschorn · 6 years

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Kelley Reviews: Solo: A Star Wars Story

If I’m being honest, I had mixed feelings going into this movie. The trailer was great. The art was great. But it wasn’t Harrison Ford. When I heard they were making a movie about Han’s early years I thought they were crazy. I thought that, in both the trailer and the posters, his hair looked terrible. I thought no one could fill Ford’s shoes and do Han like he could. In a way, I was right. But Alden Ehrenreich wasn’t trying to portray the Han Solo from a New Hope, he was playing Han Solo, the kid who hasn’t experienced life yet, and I think he did a damn good job.

And his hair actually did look good after all.

Warning: this review contains SPOILERS!!!

WHAT WORKED

The cast. Come on now the acting in this movie was absolutely incredible especially Alden! I will say this, in the week leading up to The Last Jedi, my best friend and I watched every single Star Wars movie and after seeing Solo, I rewatched A New Hope. That being said, I think Alden’s portrayal of Han was spot on. He gave us a young and inexperienced Han who has never been heartbroken or truly betrayed. This was the story that built the basis of who Han Solo is in episode IV. Donald Glover also did an amazing job at playing the young Lando. I thought this view of the character felt like an expansion to what I already knew. When we first meet Lando in Empire he comes across as an already full fledged, rounded character. Seeing his part in Solo’s coming of age is like seeing that added back story that we didn’t even know we wanted. I ate it up and I’m sure the rest of the audience did as well. Woody Harrelson as Becket was a brilliant cast choice. I love him as an actor and I love what he brought to this movie. In a way, this is almost a repeat character for him, the disappointing father figure/mentor was the same archetype he played as Haymitch from the Hunger Games. Though this movie’s tone and setting were so completely different that it didn’t feel like a repeat at all. He was the perfect formative person with flawed morals to influence Han.

Chewie. For some reason, when I saw the trailer, I thought that Han would meet Chewbacca on whatever planet Wookies come from. What really happened was much more creative. The fact that the empire had a Wookie prisoner as “a beast” and would feed prisoners and deserters to him gives us a little information on how Wookies are seen in this world. Before this movie, I thought that they were seen the same as any other intelligent alien race but this movie leads me to believe that their brute strength and strange language maybe gives them a monstrous stereotype among the other races. Props to Alden for his scene where he speaks Wookie. That was one of my favorite Han and Chewie moments! One thing I thought was a bit lame was the moment that leads Han to give his bestie his infamous nickname. “Chewbacca? I’m not saying that every time.” I thought this was lazy and a bit lame on the writers’ part. He should have just called him that offhand one day. That’s how nicknames really happen. In a universe where people interact with aliens who have weird long names on the reg, this just didn’t make much sense.

The writing. The writing for me had some great things that worked and it also had some things that didn’t quite work. What worked however, worked really well. I loved that at the beginning of the story, when Han is about to set off on his next great adventure, the only thing of value he’s got is his stolen vial of coaxium and at the very end of the movie, as he’s leaving to go on his next adventure he carries with him yet another single vial of coaxium. Love that! And let’s not forget the Kessel Run. How epic is that that they decide to tell us that story that Han’s always bragging about in the original trilogy?? Brilliant. And that whole scene where he flew the actual run was so well done and had me on the edge of my seat the whole time. I thought for sure that that coaxium was going to blow them out of that universe. Also, for those of you who haven’t seen A New Hope recently, I’ll point out that at the end of Solo he brags that he made the Kessel Run in 12 parsecs and Chewie says something so which Han replies, “Not if you round down.” In A New Hope, he first brags about it saying that he flew the Kessel run in less than 12 parsecs. Looks like as time goes on he keeps rounding down.

Some people have said that they had an issue with Han’s romance in the movie but I liked it for what it did for the plot. We had to see Han as he was before: happy and a bit naïve about the universe he lives in and in love with a person who changes while he stays the same, which in turn is another cause for his own eventual change.

WHAT DIDN’T WORK

So one of the things that didn’t work for me was the timeline. Nothing particularly wrong with it but for the fact that Han runs a grand total of two smuggling missions with Beckett and somehow has become the more jaded man he is by the end of the movie. I wish they had given us a montage, showing him running multiple missions with becket between the first one and the Kessel Run and shown some glimpses of teaching moments during this time. Even just to give Han the actual believable amount of time to learn from the Beckett the lesson’s he claimed to have learned by the end. I just think that two missions is way too short of a time to have a real lasting impact on Han. He was working for the empire for much longer and that supposedly hasn’t affected him as much as two short missions with Beckett has?

Another thing that didn’t work for me was Darth Maul. Why is he alive? Where did he come from? Wasn’t he cut in half?? From the research I did, Darth Maul is supposedly resurrected in the animated series and plays a major role. My problem with this is that I thought that with the release of these newer Star Wars movies that all of the animated plotlines and books would be nullified. The lack of explanation bothers me as I’m sure it has bothered other movie only fans. I’ve heard that the point as also to set up for another Solo movie as well as more offshoot movies including potentially, an Obi Wan stand-alone which I will not complain about.

Overall I loved this movie. I definetly want to see it again while it’s in theaters especially because the theater I saw it at did not give me a ticket stub! I’m still salty about that yall. Thanks for reading and please feel free to email me or DM me on Twitter and join the conversation! I’m eager to know your thoughts on the movie as well. Stay tuned for my next two reviews: Upgrade and Adrift. Saw both of those this weekend and I’m so excited to let you know what I thought of them!

#solo #solo a star wars story #Alden ehrenreich #star wars

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kingofattolia · 6 years

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a list of things about Star Wars: The Last Jedi

TLJ felt like watching two completely separate movies. .. . one i deliriously LOVED and one i spit upon and shake its profane dust off my sandals

THE GOOD

“ive got an urgent message for General Hux” “YOUR REBELLION IS DOOMED” “yeah... im holding for General Hux”

it straight up took me a minute and a half of this scene to figure out this was actually the start of the movie. it felt like one of those pre-movie skits where it seems like a movie but then anthropomorphic M&Ms tell you to turn your cell phone off. was it just me or were there a LOT more comic moments in TLJ compared to almost every other star wars movie? anyway i loved it even tho it gave the movie a slight someone-made-this-while-high-on-LSD feel

Leia USING THE FORCE AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

R2 playing Luke the “you’re my only hope” recording of Leia, i almost died

FORCE SHENANIGANS. we saw more powerful, dramatic, and varied uses of the Force in TLJ than we have ever before seen in a live action media and i was L I V I N G

“you’ve closed yourself off from the Force”

Rey and Kylo’s foRCE BOND TALKING like this.. . . is so interesting .. . and it wasn’t only Snoke doing it because they did it again after he’s dead...

Rey lifting 30 giant fricken boulders without even breaking a sweat after having one (1) single “training” session

Kylo remotely activating Anakins lightsaber

projecting himself........ across the entire galaxy. . ..

Yoda. in the former EU the Force ghosts had a non-negotiable expiration date a certain time after their deaths. Obi-Wan couldnt just come back and visit Luke forever, he faded away at some point. is this no longer true??? DOES THIS MEAN ANYONE CAN COME BACK IF THEY WANT??? why was yoda so physical even as a ghost that he could whack luke on the head

summoning lightning like alright this is a new Jedi power im adding to my arsenal

Leia’s mary poppins action

Luke vaulting across the cliff to stab fish

POE'S CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT he turned from a kamikaze into a leader who's able to see the big picture and walk away, im so proud

everyone..... messing with Hux...... i loved this

Snoke smacking him into the floor

Kylo smacking him into the wall

Kylo force choking him

slowly taking gun out. . . . . HES AWAKE ABORT ABORT... slowly putting gun back . . . Hux is going spend every waking moment wishing he took that shot

Finn's character arc, like what an awesome Slytherin. the contrast between him and the codebreaker 👌👌👌👌 & where he makes the choice REBEL scum 👌👌👌

LET'S GO, CHROME DOME

i cant believe Phasma died again lol. her backstory novel was SO DRAMATIC and she just dies over and over

when Kylo does that little skid out into the hallway to look for Rey

Chewy breaking down Luke's door

when Luke kisses Leia on the forehead . . . .

kylo KILLING SNOKE I AM LITERALLY SO HAPPY. I AM SO HAPPY. IM SO

this had to happen, it was so obvious but i didnt think they would actually do it, Snoke was so boring and useless, i am SO GLAD they didnt drag him out..... I AM SO HAPPY HES DEAD

it was truly awesome... i couldnt stop grinning it seeing it the 2nd time... "I CANNOT BE BETRAYED, I CANNOT BE BEATEN, I CAN SEE HIS MIND" & then he narrates the entire process of Kylo killing him i was LIVING. everyone theorized for so loooooong and so hard about what form Snoke's control over Kylo took and how it would be possible for him to break it,, , , and then he just DOES IT JUST LIKE THAT by SHEER MISDIRECTION FOLKS I AM SO ALIVE

THE TEAM UP FIGHT

i love lightsaber fights so much i would very nearly give up my critical integrity for a single awesome duel and this was,,, so awesome

when Rey drops her lightsaber to catch it again and cut that guys knees out from under him

when Snoke is cut in half and then the lightsaber rockets towards Kylo and Rey's hand SHOOTS INTO THE FRAME to catch it 👌👌👌

when Kylo takes on FOUR OF THEM AT ONCE

"THE SUPREME LEADER IS DEAD" "long live. . . the supreme leader .. "

not gonna lie, i am such a huge fan of supreme leader!Kylo. CAN HE EVEN LEAD ANYONE??? DOES HE HAVE THE CAPABILITY?? HONESTLY WHAT DOES HE WANT TO DO? WHAT WILL HIS SELF-DIRECTED MISSION BE? VADER NEVER GOT TO BE ANYTHING BUT AN ATTACK DOG, WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING TO HAPPEN

I HONESTLY HAVE NO IDEA BUT IM SO HYPE TO FIND OUT

THIS IS BRAND NEW

"finn! rose! you're not dead! where's my droid"

the little slave kids from Canto Bight. did the kid at the end use the Force to pull his broom!??!

"that library did not contain anything the girl Rey does not already possess" Yoda thinks hes so funny. REY STOLE THE LIBRARY LMAO... thanks Rey... im glad someone around here has a brain...

the Falcon swooping in to draw off the TIEs on Crait

"OH, THEY HATE THAT SHIP"

Vice Admiral Holdo's lightspeed kamikaze. . . aside from the drama of the moment & making Hux look stupid, just visually it was awesome

absolutely every single thing said by either Hux or Kylo in Kylo's command shuttle above Crait

"i want every gun we have to fire on that man"

"blow that PIECE OF JUNK oUT OF THE SKY"

when kylo's like "concentrate all fire on the speeders" and then Hux immediately shrieks "CONCENTRATE ALL FIRE ON THE SPEEDERS" and Kylo looks at him like 🤔

"do you think you got him?"

when Luke faces Kylo

WHEN LUKE FACES KYLO

this scene makes the movie for me honestly. as of now im in a state of uneasy ceasefire with TLJ and the sequel trilogy as a whole. if the scene of Luke facing Kylo did not exist, TLJ would probably be dead to me

"did you come to SAVE MY SOUL" "no."

absolutely everything about Luke was so completely epic in this scene. even though he barely said anything, even the way he stood was epic. im not sure how Hamill did this but it was everything i ever wanted

"i failed you, Ben. I'm sorry." "i'm sURE YOU ARE"

the contrast between Kylo's fighting stance and Luke's

when Luke steps out from the massive cloud and duSTS OFF HIS SHOULDER

this fills me with so much pure glee i could literally ascend

"if you strike me down in anger, i'll always be with you. like your father."

the slow, dawning horror when Kylo starts realizing Luke's not actually there

"see you around, kid"

"SEE YOU AROUND, KID"

my favorite line in the WHOLE THING i could Scream

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

AHHHHHHHHHH AHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHH

"SEE YOU AROUND, KID"

when Rey slams the door in Kylo's face

THE BAD

Luke should have LIFTED HIS X WING OUT OF THE WATER WITH THE FORCE AT SOME POINT GOSH DARN. i knew from the moment we saw the submerged x wing that this moment was meant to happen.... but then it DIDN’T. like PLEASE. IT WOULD HAVE BEEN SO GOOD I NEED TO SEE THIS

the casino subplot. . . it was awesome for Finns character development but couldn’t he have developed character over an actually materially relevant story arc.. . .

BB-8 didn’t fight Dark BB-8 like what the hell honestly

for what earthly reason does Kylo need to wear his pants up to his armpits. is he TRYING to look like a doofus

why wasn't Lando the master codebreaker. like quite frankly, give me one good reason. why. no. there are no good reasons. when is Lando going to come into it you cowards

honestly....... what the FRICK was that horrible backstory behind what caused Kylo to turn

WHAT THE FRICK

im trying to keep my cool but this is a huge, enormous, and vital problem i have with this movie and whoever came up with that should be shot

Luke, in a brief moment of insanity, ignited his lightsaber over his sleeping nephew's bed to assassinate him because of a vision

LUKE SKYWALKER the guy who wouldnt believe that DARTH VADER, ENSLAVER OF WORLDS, SLAUGHTERER OF CHILDREN, MASS MURDERER OF THOUSANDS, was a lost cause and who refused to kill him, TRIED TO KILL HIS APPRENTICE IN HIS SLEEP

like... do you see my problem?

character assassination. it is ludicrously greater-than-Anakin Skywalker levels of overreaction to a Force premonition that Luke would see a vision of darkness and instantly move to slice his sleeping, defenseless nephew in half, and even in Luke's version of the story Luke is legitimatly the bad guy. he brought about the future he was afraid of, just like Anakin

because of this background, every interpretation is blown wide open to reasonably see Kylo as the victim and Luke's actions as those of a villain. of course he had to defend himself? it's legitimately possible to construe the subsequent killing of the other students as self-defense as well. if they wake up to find Ben having "killed" Luke? anything could have happened, Kylo could honestly have done barely anything bad up to this point and have been driven to the dark side on that one night

it's going to take.... so much work.... to walk this back. obviously Kylo's a villain now, because of what he's chosen to do since then, but for Luke to come out of this not looking like trash, they would have to provide SO MUCH more backstory including the "dark" things Kylo had done to make Luke suspect him, and have him probably be actively seeking darkness while under Luke's tutelage. and then Luke still seems like a fool and a betrayor

maybe they WANT Luke to come off as a legitimately bad person? i've seen some interpretations of TLJ as tearing down "legends" by showing everyone as flawed people, teaching the lesson of not deifying people to Rey AND the audience as well. if thats true and they actually want me to believe Luke is not worth believing in, i'm sorry but i reject that

luke skywalker is not a bad person

rey said "you didnt fail Kylo, Kylo failed you" WHICH... its true that Kylo failed in all his actions after this. but if this is the unmitigated truth about what happened that day, Luke definitely failed Kylo, thats not really arguable

i spit this backstory out of my mouth and stomp on it

bye felicia

"the legacy of the jedi is failure and hypocrisy. at the height of their power they allowed darth sidious to come to power and wipe them out" ok true. "it was a jedi master who was responsible for the training and creation of darth vader" YOU TAKE THAT BACK

a related point..... Luke is a coward.

i'm not saying that the only kind of Luke i would accept is HEROIC LEGEND LUKE WHO BURSTS FORTH FROM HIS ISOLATION AND SINGLE HANDEDLY DEVASTATES THE FIRST ORDER. but at the same time, his isolation is NOT in any way comparable to Obi-Wan's. "i came here to die" ok buddy.

dying is all well and good, hiding from your failures, being broken for a while after taking a hit like that

what i am NOT able to forgive is how he abandoned Leia

???? the frick???

"so many losses, i can't take any more" "sure you can" STORY OF LEIA'S LIFE

"im from the resistance, your sister Leia sent me" boy when she says jump you better say "how high?" honestly YOU OWE IT AT LEAST TO YOUR GUILT TO DO THAT FOR HER

HE SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE? SHE'S ON HER OWN DEALING WITH EVERY PROBLEM IN THE WHOLE GALAXY AND HE'S DOING WHAT? YOU'RE TELLING ME LUKE WOULD HAVE ABANDONED HIS SISTER LIKE THAT??? AND WHEN SHE SPECIFICALLY ASKS FOR HIM HE SAYS "no frick u" ?!?!?

if that's Luke Skywalker then Luke Skywalker is a useless coward

that is not Luke Skywalker

honestly everything Rey said was spot on "Leia sent me here with hope. if she's wrong then she deserves to know why. we all do"

the overall thesis of the sequel trilogy seems to be "there's no point to any of this"

a powerful student turns to the dark side and destroys the Jedi Order. an authoritarian regime destroys the republic and takes over. a small band of resistance fighters rallies against great odds. a Force sensitive from a desert planet teaches herself the Force from old Jedi books after her teacher evaporates into the Force after teaching like 1 lesson. everyone Leia loves dies

guys... i'm tired

it's just exhausting. what is the point? in the sequel trilogy we've seen the republic destroyed, the resistance decimated and harried from place to place until theyre down to 12 people on the millennium falcom. there's only one movie left. they're going to come back from nothing and destroy the first order and then smile at each other in the ashes?

why?>??? what are they going to do? build a republic again? is rey going to build a new jedi order? we've seen how that worked out

there's nothing to believe in here. HOPE is such a strong theme in the sequel trilogy. "as long as there's light we've got a chance" "leia sent me here with hope" "the galaxy has lost its hope, the spark is out." "hope is like the sun, if you only believe in it when you can see it you'll never make it through the night." like good grief. constantly hammering on the need to have hope, but WHY?

what's the point of defeating the imperials, spending your life trying to build something good in the galaxy, trying to build a family, when you're only going to have to do it all again in your old age, when everyone you love is dead?

i cant see any hope if this is the ending for the OT characters, so i powerfully struggle to care about and cheer for Rey, Poe, and Finn. what's the point in anything they're doing? what's the point in the sacrifices they're making? it might turn out just exactly like it did for Luke, Leia, and Han, spending their old age in loneliness, sorrow, and violence

if this is the way history repeats itself, you probably should just make out like the stuttering codebreaker. "dont join"

#grace for ts #the last jedi #lists of things with grace #star wars #here they are the extremely belated bullet points #this is long as heck #AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #TLJ #tlj spoilers #the last jedi spoilers #i both enjoyed it immensely and left with a bad taste in my mouth hhhhhh

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nooo-body · 6 years

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I've had a truly BAD week and I need to vent. Sorry, in advance.

I lead a very opressed life. I can't say anything because what I say becomes weaponized. I say hello, and suddenly it's a curse word, a hammer to be driven into your skull. I have no place where I can just be, every place is owned by someone else, and I have to live by their rules. I'm not 15, and living by my parents rules. Im 67 and I should simply be dead. I wish I were. I always thought that sometime I would turn a corner and find something good. At this late date I've finally realized there is no silver lining, there are no more corners to turn. The only respite is death, and I'd welcome it with open arms, but I cannot seek it out I was taught from a young age that suicide is wrong. The Catholics got me young, and their teachings never let go. I'm so stupid to believe in any of that, but it is what it is.

I don't want tomorrow to come. I truly don't. I have nothing to look forward to. Nothing that has anything to do with my life. All my hopes & dreams are built on pretend, just like they have been when I was a child. Nothing in my life is real. I've known I'm a complete screw up since I was a school kid. I supposedly had a high IQ, but a teacher said to me, "It's not how smart you are, it's how you use your intellect." Right then I saw my life & complete failure laid out in front of me. I'd never amount to anything, and I haven't. I've done nothing. Ive never helped anyone, never improved anything.

All i ever hear, every day, is that I'm fat & not worth the space I take up, and the air I breath. Death is all I have to look forward to. I'm nobody & nothing. I wanted desperately to get away from the negativity, but when I finally did leave home, the negative came with me. I was still fat & ugly. I still wasn't good enough to do anything that mattered. I couldn't work in publishing because I wanted to write. I finally gave up writing. My 9th grade English teacher told me my flaws were obvious, but not to me. I was too stupid to see my own mistake.

I was big & ugly. The only nickname I ever had was Mac, because I reminded someone of a mac truck. Big & ugly. My own mother said to me everyday, "You could be pretty if only you didn't..." Whatever the blank was, it was something about myself I couldn't change. I was a tom-boy, I was not graceful, I was always ruining my clothes. I knew that pretty was a dead end, and simply out of reach. I am completely unlovable. I was told repeatedly as a child no one would ever love me, and believe me, no one has. People never wanted me to even touch them. I was terrified to touch people, that my touch somehow would burn them. I kept to myself. I began to completely identify with the Phantom of the Opera. This finally frightened me so badly, I wouldn't let myself go there, but it was a small hole I managed to jump.

When I was in my late 20s, I moved to NYC. Stupidly hoping someone in such a big city would care I was alive. I met two different men who I stupidly convinced myself, cared for me. Neither did, I was stupidly lying to myself. The first was a movie theatre manager, biggest theater in NYC. He was handsome. All my girlfriends & acquaintances thought he was dreamy, the Marlboro man come to life. He would fuck anything that was female, he was a swinger (seriously, member of Plato's Retreat) He loved to collect cherries. His assistant manager told me not to get involved with him. I did out of desperation. He collected his prize, and told me I was hopeless & clueless in bed. He dumped me a few days later. I was so ashamed. My first sexual experience, and I'd gotten it all wrong. I felt like such a fraud. A few friends took me out to dinner that night to celebrate, and I was so ashamed of myself, I couldn't tell them I was hopeless. I just kept my mouth shut and tried not to cry.

The second guy seemed at first to actually care. At least at first that was how it seemed. He flirted with me, teased me, said the right words. He wanted the only thing guy1 taught me, fellatio. We were together far longer than we should have. Every time I worked up the courage to break it off, he'd start in about committing suicide. It made me insane. Suicide is just anathema to me. My brother uses this trick as well! Anyway, Finally he disappeared for a month or two, and when I finally found him, he'd gotten married, but he still wanted head. After all that was what I really liked!, according to him. I hated it. He finally disappeared, for about a year. Then he called me, out if the blue. That's when he finally drove it home, he assumed I was a cheap whore, but liked him so much, I always gave him freebies. I was horrified. I just gave it all up. Faced the fact that men hated me & I was/am truly unloveable.

According to my brother, I've destroyed his life too. I forced him to move to NYC. I forced him to sleep in a small half room. I forced him to take work he didn't like. I refused to play the right computer games. It's my fault he has a bad heart, has bad circulation, and heart problems. When I was sick, I forced him to go shopping for me, and that's how he got sick. He hates NYC, and I've forced him to live there I've ruined his life by always buying him the cheapest gaming computer possible. He was too sick to work. I forced him to cook for us. I intentionally buy him the wrong size clothes, since he can't work, he has no money to buy his own clothes. My fault he's sick, unemployed & forced to live in NYC. I've also copy-catted him by getting sick too. He has no legs (he actually was careful of what he ate, his whole life, but had a bad heart, high cholesterol, and bad circulation), which is my fault. He never got grief counseling. But when i got diabetes, bad circulation, a heart murmur, and horrible arthritis, I did it to spite him. I was fat & lazy, as always. I just kept making his life worse. Tonight I bought him some new underware, and nearly destroyed his life because it was the wrong size. It was the identicle size I got fron Amazon last time, but now it's wrong, and I'm a bitch. If i say anything, I add fuel to the fire, but if I don't say anything, I don't care and can sleep through anything. I'm just an ugly, fat bitch. Years & years ago, I had a crush on Johnny Depp. (Long before I discovered sweet Tom) Every argument I get Depp, Paris & fat me in a frilly pink tutu thrown at me. None of the was ever even a passing thought!

I can't walk anymore because the arthritis in my knees is so bad, but I'm lazy and can't be bothered. I had a substitute nurse earlier this week, who I asked for help with something. Her answer? I'm an entitled white bitch, who thinks everyone is her slave. So, you can see, it's really me. I'm a truly terrible person.

Everyone's life would be so much simpler if I just didn't exist. I'm tired of being the baddy, of being useless, of being hateful & hated. People refuse to help me. I have both a social worker and an Adult Protective services worker who are supposed to be helping me with an apartment problem, and neither will return my calls. I'm that hateful. I should live on the street, no clothes, no shoes, no coat, just me sitting on a rolling desk chair waiting for death. I have nothing positive to offer anyone. I try to live in a dream world, just to hold on to some sanity, but I can't do it any longer. When I was young, I used to dream about husband, children & loving family. That certainly never came to pass. I still try to dream about someone not hating me (I dream that Tom would be kind enough to at least pretend not to hate me, if ever I should meet him, which of course I can't since I can't walk), but the reality is I'm fat, ugly, useless, stupid and utterly unlovable. It doesn't hurt any less, and at 67 I'm getting close enough to the end that with nothing to dream about, nothing to hope for, it might just as well be over.

I could go on, but you get the picture, ugly, old, self-centered, cruel spinster should just stop playing the game. It's lost.

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keimanzero · 7 years

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Ghost in the Shell:2nd Gig returns 21-22 October weekend to Toonami at 3:30 AM ET

Greetings fellow Toonami anime fans! I am now keeping those of ya who cannot get CN's Adult Swim Toonami on TV informed and up to date on Toonami's eppys each week. From now on, I am going to be posting updates weekly (Usually on Sundays) here at FB and Twitter as well as at Gaia's Chatterbox.

First off here's the new ASToonami schedule (All times Eastern):

11 PM: Dragon Ball Super

11:30 PM: Dragon Ball Z Kai

12:00 M: Jojo's Bizarre Adventure

12:30 AM: Gundam:Iron-Blooded Orphans)(NEW)(Season 2)

1:00 AM: Hunter x Hunter

1:30 AM: Lupin III Part IV

2:00 AM: Naruto Shippuden

2:30 AM: Outlaw Star

3:00 AM: Cowboy Bebop

3:30 AM: Attack on Titan (Beginning next weekend Ghost/Shell:2nd Gig returns to this time slot.

Samurai Jack has been terminated.

Updates for 14-15 Oct 2017:

DBSuper: Tournament continues w/ Earth the property of Universe 6 if Beerus's team loses to Champa's team. Vegeta then takes on Cabba, the 7th Universes's Saiyaan. He begs Vegeta to teach him to go Super saiyaan which is simple- just get mad! Vegeta finally defeats Cabba w/ a single punch and now he must face the 7th U's own assassin.

DBZ Kai: While Gohan struggles to master the Z Sword on Kai World and the kids (Trunks & GoTen) try to master 'fusion' on the Lookout, Babidi & Buu continue their reign of terror on Earth. At long last, Goku returns to Otherworld w/ Baba where king Yema informs him that Gohan is not dead yet. Videl tells the gang that she senses that Gohan is still alive- somewhere. Buu builds himself a house out of people turned into clay and continues his rampage.

Jojo's BA: Paperil finally locates the man w/ 2 riht hands and his Syand. This Dio fiend raped and killed his only sister. Avdol intervenes to save P's life and takes the bullet meant for him. Avdol dies w/ Paperil cursing his interference. His new foe Centrefold, uses mirrors for his Stand. Not just mirrors but any reflective surface will work for the Stand. Finally, Paperil and Kyokain defeat the eveil Stand whom Paperil sends to meet his Maker after inflicting numerous stab wounds on the evil Centrefold who killed and raped his (Paperil's) sister. Joseph and Jotaro give Avdol a nice funeral and burial and then it's off to Egypt w/ time running out for the gang (Now 4) to defeat Dio. (Part 2 of 2).

Gundam:Iron-Blooded Orphans: Orca now leads Tekkaman's kids as advisors to the now allies Gallahorn but all is not so peaceful. More battles and the Boss engineer tells a Tekkadan 17 year old boy that he is too old for the surgery he needs to undergo to pilot a mobile suit Gundam. Kudelia chats w/ her boyfriend who is the best pilot in Tekkadan.

Hunter x Hunter: Several teams band together to defeat the Bomber team by hoarding catds. HxH seems to be turning into a cross vetween Yu-Gi-Oh and Sword Art Online. Hisoka appears on the scene. Can the gang trust him? Hisoka joins Gon, Killua and Biscuit and their new pals on the island and take on the pirates in a series of sports games. At the end of the eppy, they are ahead 4-0 with a punishing game of dodgeball to decide the winners. The Gamesmaster is revealed to be one of the Greed Island game's creators and informs everyone on Gon's team that this is ALL real! He also tells Gon that he (the Gamesmaster) knows Gon's father. When the Gamesmaster brutally kills one of his own men, Gon is upset until he is told that the 'pirates' are all hardened convicts guilty of heinous crimes and refusing to play is tantamount to treason and mutiny. The deceased guy was a 3 time murderer! At the end of the eppy, Gon's team leader is injured and things look bleak. Can Kon, Nisky, Killua and the others win it all? They try and manage to eliminate all but Razor who is pirates' leader. It's all up to Gon and Killua now, but what does Hisoka have up his magic sleeve? I wonder?

Lupin III: Lupin goes undercover as a HS teacher to recover a priceless diamond. He and Jigen help the other teachers out when they run afoul of a cruel gang. Watch what happens to the diamond at the end of the eppy and who winds up w/ the priceless bauble.

Naruto S: With Pain gone and the village in reconstruction after Pain returned all of the Leaf Villagers to life, it's catch-up time. Back to when the Third Hokage asked Eruka Sensei to take Naruto under his wing. Eruka agrees but then also gets some bad advice from a friend to just ignore Naruto and his antics. Eruka Sensei at last realizes why the Third Hokage assigned Naruto Uzimaki to him. They both lost their families- Eruka when still a youngster and Naruto before he was born. Nope! Naruto still does not know re the Nine Tailed Kyune Fox Demon sealed within his (Naruto's) own body!

Outlaw Star: Back home with Jim and Melvina (Aisha is Kami knows where!), Gene fixes the Star and Mel is protected from the 108 Pirates by Twilight Suzuka who are after her (Why?) and are seeking revenge on Hot Ice Hilda (She is dead. Remember?). While preparing to lift off w/ the O Star, Gene takes on Twilight as his fifth (and last?) crew member. Welcome aboard, assassin gal Suzuka! Twilight proves her worth protecting the Star and her crew while Melvina 'empaths' the poisonous substances from Gene's body to save his life. Finally, the OS lifts off for- who knows where, man?

Cowboy Bebop: Lame eppy w/ Spike tracking down a boy impressario who is older than Faye's actual age.

Attack on Titan: Can the fighters defeat the Armoured Titan? Sorry, this if from memory. I no longer watch Titan and next week neither will anyone else. Ghost in the Shell: 2nd Gig returns to this timeslot the weekend of 21-22 October. The Major is back w/ Mr batou and the 'old ape' Chief Arimaki and the rest of the team from Section Nine.

No video games this week.

See ya next time, gang. Tell your friends about my updates.- The Keiman.

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rjhamster · 4 years

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Overnight those tasks and routines can become the precious little places where joy is birthed. ~ Dawn Barton, Laughing Through the Ugly Cry

You Get ToDawn Barton, Laughing Through the Ugly-Cry and Finding Unstoppable Joy

Learning to Treasure What You Didn’t Want

Now eagerly desire the greater gifts. And yet I will show you the most excellent way. — 1 Corinthians 12:31

A deep breath and a huge, slow eye roll. That was my immediate reaction. A family member had just said to me, “You get to.” This was her attempt at reminding me of the holiest of postures — gratitude — so I’d do something I absolutely did not want to do: clean my child’s vomit off my dress and new suede shoes. I can assure you there was no feeling of gratitude in this moment as I stood covered in vomit at my cousin’s wedding. “Honey, you get to clean that vomit.” You get to. If you’re not familiar with this worldview, it’s an idea espoused by pretty much every pastor, women’s conference speaker, and all-knowing aunt I’ve ever encountered: to truly enjoy life the way God wants us to, we must be grateful 24-7. We should be grateful for the little things, the big things, the smelly things, the happy and the sad — in all things we should be grateful. The truth is this: that annoying family member was right. And I do believe it now. Finding joy in the messy, tedious tasks of our everyday lives is darn near impossible sometimes. Driving the kids to school, going to your job, helping with homework, keeping up with sports, meals, and exercise, feeling miserable about what you just ate, and wearing an underwire bra when all you want to do is let those puppies loose — every single day, life is hard, ladies. I know. The tasks seem never-ending, and it can be so difficult to find joy in the tedium. Until one day, when everything that makes your eyes roll is taken away. Overnight those tasks and routines can become the precious little places where joy is birthed. The struggle quickly becomes the gift. My youngest daughter, Ellason, was four years old when I was diagnosed with breast cancer, and Makenzie, my oldest, was married and out of the house, tending to her own family about an hour away. My husband, Craig, was in a dusty tent in the Middle East. It was just Ellason and me at home, with a lot of love and support from family and friends. During the biopsy on my right breast, something went wrong, and they burned the skin, leaving a half-inch, black, circular burn at the incision point. Believe it or not, that burn turned out to be one of the best things to happen to me. That burn became something visible and tangible I could use to explain cancer to a four-year-old little girl. We called it the “booby bug,” and it made sense to her sweet four-year-old mind. The booby bug made mommy sick. Getting rid of the booby bug was a lot harder than I imagined it would be. Chemotherapy was a wild beast, and it kicked my butt. The plan was six rounds of a chemo combination called “red devil” (because one of the drugs was red in color), and I would receive those treatments every two weeks. The next phase was a different type of drug that I would receive weekly for twelve weeks, totaling six months of chemotherapy treatments. My chemo weeks looked a little like this: Day 1: Chemo infusion. A nurse covered in protective gear — large plastic mask and all — inserted IVs into the port in my chest and changed them every hour until my body was filled with what I like to call “the poison drugs.” (Side note: Someone should give you a heads-up that your nurse is going to look like the hazmat dudes in ET when she walks in to give you chemotherapy drugs. That image sort of shakes you up. I mean, if the nurse is covered three ways to Sunday so she won’t touch the drugs, why is it a good idea to put them inside of my body? Food for thought.) The entire process lasted about four hours, and then someone would drive me home. Off to bed I would go, feeling tired but otherwise alive. Day 2: The poison drugs hit. Nausea meds and painkillers were a must, but this wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was that I had to go back to the cancer center for a bone marrow stimulant injection that increased my white blood cell count so my body could fight infection. I hated it. Imagine feeling so nauseated, with pain seething through every inch of your body, and knowing you have to go back to get a shot that’ll make you feel substantially worse. From a mental perspective, Day 2 was always the hardest for me. Days 3–4: The crescendo of suffering. The poison drugs battled with my body. They were pure misery. I prayed, cried, and begged for God’s mercy through them. Day 5: A hint of hope. A small flicker of light appeared at the end of the tunnel, and I began to feel a bit of relief from the process. The first five days are followed by nine days of recovery and desperately reaching for normalcy until the cycle ends and I am shoved back to the starting line all over again for the next Day 1. The more rounds of chemo I had, the longer the miserable part of the process would take. The effects of Day 2 would stretch over two or three days. And the effects of Days 3 and 4 — my rock-bottom days — would sometimes last almost a week. The overwhelming pain, nausea, and discomfort were constant, and so were my pleading prayers. But I can’t write honestly about my chemo days without adding this: it was in the agony and sickness that I found God on the most beautiful and intimate level. Nothing has pried open my raw, aching heart like having my body and soul assailed by that disease and its horrific treatment. In the depths of my pain, I came to know Him best. I believe it is often at our most helpless, our most vulnerable, that we are most primed to hear and see Him. Anyway, back to the vomit at my cousin’s wedding. Yes, it all comes full circle. I’m sharing the not-so-pleasant details of my chemo routine to paint a picture of what life was like in that season, but also to give you some background on how I learned to embrace the “you get to” philosophy. While I was undergoing treatment, there was no driving Ella to school, no making her lunches or picking out her clothes. There was no playtime, no homework together, no running and tickling. I wanted to play an active role in my own life, and I couldn’t. Chemo was a prize-fighting boxer, and I was on the ground slamming my hands against the floor to tap out. I wanted to be done; I begged for it to be over. I wanted to be a mom, and I didn’t want to be sick a moment longer. Despite how hard I was fighting, I was still riddled with guilt over the kind of mother I was to Ella. I think women are the only creatures who can be gripping the ring of a toilet in sickness and still feeling guilty that they can’t drive their babies to school. We are crazy, beautiful creatures, aren’t we? As I fought through weeks of chemo, I found moments of joy and laughter with Ella. Not on a playground or in a car drive, but in the sweet, quiet moments lying in my bed with her snuggled next to me, close to my belly and wrapped in my arms. I am not sure if I comforted her more or if she comforted me, but Ellason was my saving grace at the end of each day. When I felt well enough, I would make up stories, starring her as the princess, me as the queen, and daddy as the king. (The queen was always very beautiful, of course.) The stories would change daily, and she loved it. After months of treatment, I remember the day I was finally able to pick up Ellason from school. I was elated that I’d been given a two-week break from chemo, and I finally felt well enough to drive. It was something so small, but it meant so much. When the normal, everyday pieces of life get taken away, you realize they make up a beautiful and wonderful existence. Before cancer, I had taken so much of this for granted; I even thought of some of those activities as the burdens. (What do you mean, you need lunch again? Didn’t we just do that yesterday?) In reality, these mundane activities were the sweet blessings of life. When cancer took away the mundane, I finally understood driving my daughter to school was a gift. Chemo was teaching me how to fight for moments of joy and hope. I was learning to look for them, and I was realizing all those things I resented were actually things I got to do. In fact, I eventually reached a rather revolutionary level of “you get to” mastery. Remember what Days 1 through 5 looked like during my chemo treatments? The beast of chemo was destroying me and my life; I hated the treatments and all that came with them. I hated walking into that cancer center and being poisoned each time. Chemo was the enemy — that is, until I learned my hardest “you get to” lesson. Every time I arrived to get chemo, nurses took my vitals and drew my blood to make sure I was “healthy enough” to be poisoned. My body was weaker each round, and my white blood cell count needed to be more than one thousand. When I walked in for my fourth round of red devil, I was fighting with all that I had — but this time I was also battling a fever. After a few minutes, the nurse walked over and with pity in her eyes said, “I’m so sorry. We can’t give you chemo. Your white count is too low.” My body wouldn’t be able to fight the infection. I actually couldn’t get the thing I hated getting most. This was the beginning of a big mind-shift for me. At first I was a little relieved. They gave me a shot of white blood cell booster, hoping to increase my white count overnight, and sent me home. The next day I arrived, and I was ready. My vitals were taken, blood was drawn, and soon I would be heading back for the red devil. But wait. “Dawn,” the nurse said, “your counts are too low again. I am so sorry. We will try again tomorrow.” The tears fell so fast and so hard and wouldn’t stop for hours. I needed this chemo to fight cancer; I had to have it. How could I want something I so intensely loathed? That’s when I realized: I needed to change the story in my head. Chemo was a gift. I get to get chemo. Chemo gave me the ability to fight cancer and live. It was a gift that generations before me did not have. Three days later I was able to receive my gift again. I would love to tell you that my view on making lunches and driving to school has remained in a place of gratitude, that I do it daily with a skip in my step and joy in my heart, but I would be lying. I am human. I complain. I get overwhelmed and annoyed. I grow tired of driving back and forth to school. I roll my eyes at a busy schedule. I loathe going to the grocery store. But I do have a gift that many don’t. When it all seems like too much, I have the gift of remembering what it felt like to have it all taken away. I remember what it felt like to desperately want to drive a little girl to school and go to a playground with her. I know that feeling, and I am grateful for it. I get to make those lunches. I get to clean her vomit off my shoes. Never in a million years would I have dreamed the diagnosis of cancer was a gift. But I can tell you unequivocally it was. A crazy, wild, precious gift. I got to battle cancer. In that battle I learned to love my family more, and I met God on a whole new level. So whether it’s a life-changing battle or one of those mildly irritating or gross parts of life, they don’t look so bad when that story in your head changes. When you realize that the gifts you’re being given are right there in that unattractive packaging. You get to open them, and you might find out that God designed them just for you — for your good and His glory. Excerpted from Laughing Through the Ugly-Cry and Finding Unstoppable Joy by Dawn Barton, copyright Dawn Barton. * * * Your Turn What do you get to do today? Do you get to work from home? Supervise kids' distance learning? Clean the house? Do the laundry? Deal with frustrating co-workers? Shop for an elderly neighbor? How are the get to’s changing your perspective? Come share with us on our blog. We want to hear from you about what you’re grateful for! ~ Laurie McClure, Faith.Full

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minusthecynic · 7 years

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I aint got time for playing games just that chick who sets my heart aflame it aint no mystery what happened with her and me/ how it wasn't meant to be/ how we fell apart like the little statuette I made of my art group leader in his honour cos it wasn't properly prepared for the kiln/ am I ready to endure that blazing tongue licking trial and torture/ don't kick me when I'm down cos you will teach me nothing you will just breed little beasties of resentment in me/ which wrap themselves around my neck and strangle the living daylights out of me/ in Jah I delight if you didn't know already/ rocking steady to this beat/ the music that's playing in my head when I write this/ I wont be defeated by my pitiful circumstances/ they say time heals all wounds but I've still got scabs cos I keep picking them open every time they start to recover/ breaking the bars of my skin cells cracking them open like fortune cookies/ fresh blood flows out my flesh/ I look like a wookie when folks give me stress/ I'm so blessed/ not oppressed by demons any longer/ though you might think otherwise if you saw the way I treat those pretty witty butterflies that come into my net/ live my love life with no regret/ you can make me soaking wet like the sea/ but I crave a deeper intimacy than the kind that your mind could ever possibly provide/ and its deeper than just bumping and grinding for me/ I want that church and steeple kind of love/ I want that sunday morning you in that white wedding dress kind of love/ I want the whole world knowing about us kind of love/ I don't like doing things in the secret chambers of a garden dark/ hey why should we hide our affection from the world we have been doing that for far too long and you wonder why I snapped my link with you/ don't expect to be respected if you aint prepared to show it shorty/ I aint hating on you I still love you but we can never be together again you already know that/ I know you harbour no illusions about the potential of the two of us to be together/ I'm desperately scribbling like an idiot jailbird chewing his last meal to avoid the temptation of another live video broadcast I shouldn't be watching streaming from the lounge room of some cutie I probably shouldn't be friends with but my love for God is endless/ so can I extend a benevolent hand without my motives being twisted all out of shape like pipe cleaners/ some say I'm a dreamer cos I spit that utopian paradise concept I utilize these skills not to pay the bills just to entertain the masses/ some may say I'm classist nah I'm just a classic/ like retro reebok or Adidas sneaks/ I do speak my mind in volumes copious compendiums of the freedom I've been extended by Jesus/ I won't end up like my grandfolks did/ going to hell in a handbasket/ unless they truly turned around on their deathbeds/ I've got to hope what they confessed to my moms n pops was genuine/ cos id sure hate not to see their lovely faces in heaven/ its pretty tricky yo when youre the second generation/ passing on the truth you learned from your ancestors/ I can relate to that indigenous struggle to maintain cultural heritage/ keep the language alive/ keep our songs and dances going/ put our art on blast/ cos we don't want our past to always remain our past sometimes we want it present in our future also/ only the bits that can potentially be redeemed for Jesus/ some say I'm an also ran/ but I aint gonna freeze up just because hate and criticism be on the increase/ shorty knows ive got it locked with Jesus He causes the evil to decrease in me/ less of me and more of you Lord this is my plea/ I know I cheat cos I don't flow to the beat/ just the music drumming in between my own ears/ perfect love casts out all fear/ you can tell I'm sloppy with my rhyme schemes panting for Christs living water like a thirsty deer/ unlike my homegirl channy I don't flow properly/ I do it sloppily but I'm still Gods property/ I dig this rap game ever since I was knee high to a grasshopper/ ive been that wannabe rhyme dropper/ homies hate on the skills got me wondering why don't they go ahead and do it themselves if they want to hear something slightly more endearing/ I would be cheering/ I aint hating for the sake of hating/ big up my homies I be celebrating/ not denigrating/ this is more than a recreational pursuit for me/ I would do it for a full time job but noones dangling golden cash carrots under me/ little wonder cos my thunder got stolen by way too many broken hearts and the molten lava I fell in/ cos my ego got in the way of my progress/ little girls calling me their idol/ people comparing me to my heroes/ as if I could ever be considered their peers and equals/ my head got big and swelled/ I could barely hold it up it was so bursting with pride/ yet when I chose to walk by the side of the lion of zion I realized how little I was without His help/ and what wee amounts of change I could accomplish stranded on my own on a lonely island/ selfishness just gets you nowhere fast/ ive got regrets for the way I used to live/ that die is cast but I broke the mould/ still haven't got a woman to have and hold/ for the rest of my life though when I do I'm gonna treat her like purest gold/ a diamond that's been cut innumerable times made more beautiful by her scars/ she will forever own my heart/ I hate the fact that I cant be with her right now/ I hate the fact that God said no to one girl but He might say yes to another/ plenty fish in the sea for this brother/ I know its a tired stale old cliché but I believe that I don't have to settle for a life of permanent bachelorhood/ and if youre a chick youre a spinster/ don't let them stick that bachelorette trash labelling on you/ whats in a name/ identity distinction/ you aint one of the bros you're your own person/ I give up on myself too soon just like I did with you/ strap me to a billion black balloons let them weigh down this sad faced clown/ fill them up with concrete when its still dripping liquid/ if that's even possible/ descriptive of the way I feel/ like I'm sweating bullets and lead/ scared of the future without a bae to call my own/ unlike that game show I don't aim to claim the throne/ I'm just happy playing follow the leader/ not straying from Jahs calling rounding up those stubborn ones I'm that sheep dog/ prodding cattle to get moving on a journey of self improvement/ no one knows the troubles ive seen or where ive been/ or the times when ive come in between a rock and a hard place/ or husbands and wives/ gossip separates friends/ and causes you to use kitchen knives/ for something other than slicing up animal meat/ I don't want any more blood flowing down our streets/ we already got robbed once I would be a dunce if I ever put myself in a position to allow that to happen again/ now God provided the money so we can claim back on insurance all that got jacked from us/ and so we could tighten our security/ Lord I wanna live a life of purity but you know what these two eyes see/ pretty young things find their way to me when I aint even looking for them/ so ive gotta be extra careful do that dip and bounce with my eyeballs/ when other dudes in seventh grade were making collages of busty babes I was pasting tiny babies snaps to my page/ we didn't even get to use a pen til then/ maybe it was freshman year/ can we live our lives without causing each others eyes to drip rivers of tears/ all of these days weeks months I wasted/ all of the blood on my lips I tasted/ only from my own d n a far as I could tell/ though some share the same as me/ in some small way linked by code of genetics to all of humanity/ its pathetic how we start race wars and act sexist/ all because were stubborn and pigheaded/ tell ourselves we can't forgive the wrongs of the past but that's a lie of the enemy/ crazy talk like suddenly sprouting legs and trotting round if you're a sea anemone/ I aint a portugese man of war I wonder what I'm fighting for/ instead of delighting in you Lord igniting that holy fire in me/ I'm frightened for what the future has in store/ I don't wanna be the same old me anymore/ but I find myself in wrestling matches with angels / like Jacob pretty soon I'm gonna wind up missing hip bones/ could you change my name to Israel/ so I know God will prevail evey time someone calls my name/ seeing myself as His success upon each occasion when they point out my failures/ and they will know us by the trail of the dead skin cells attached to bloody bandages we leave behind us when we go strolling down the gardens of the ghettos we all know and love/ I've still gotta live with the consequences of my actions this side of heaven/ I'm so dense and intense most cant handle me so they sit on the fence and observe the way my candles lit/ while I collect my dollars and cents and just smile cos Gods a genius/ cracking me up cos suckers and liars said I could never make any money outta this biz/ guess what I proved them wrong even though that wasn't the motivating factor/ saving souls and taking care of my future family was the only reason why I ever wanted to get cashed up/ I talked way too much trash for my own good/ folks misunderstood the way I acted in my neighbourhood/ losers calling themselves outlaws/ if they got locked up in jail how would they feel for real/ bush rangers strangers highway men by way men/ you aint going my way men so I can relax/ and even if you did pull me over to one side and told this kid to give his money cough that cash give it up quick smart like pash rash or risk losing his life you think i'd care to open my wallet for such deviants/ losing my life means nothing to me cos its in the hands of Jesus stupid/ so I aint fretting if you pull a gun on me and stick it to my head tell me that youre gonna pull the trigger on my skull and blast it to smithereens/ cos I know who my king is/ and I know where my future is/ lying beyond the stars/ they treat me like a spider from mars sipping cider from a glass/ eyeball with a hole where the pupil should be/ I'm like john lennon legend and tupac I wrestle with my own vanity/ that's insanity/ but one out of three found Jesus in the end/ at least that's the truth of which I'm convinced my friend/ some say I'm gonna deal with my sorrow tomorrow then they don't live another day there has to be a better way/ homies who consider themselves sold out for Jesus still watch movies with cussing does that even bear discussing/ why the shortie of my dreams watching scream queens better yet what I'm doing in that haunted house I should ask myself/ why the ski mask or hockey like Jason why I'm chasing that dragon why I'm facing these giants why I see myself as a dwarf but my God towers over my oppressors/ why I love the fact that He forgives me despite my constant messing round with transgressions and gressors/ how am I supposed to address this/ so much we don't talk about for the sake of love/ like I quit paying out on atheists/ cos I knew that wasn't winning souls for His kingdom/ it wasn't Christs mindset/ even though I don't believe that atheists truly exist theyre such an easy target/ I close my eyes and try to forget/ about all the blood sweat and tears it took to get my homegirl to where she is today/ thank you Lord for all the change you have brought to her life that death for life exchange/ I had to force myself to slow down cos I wasn't getting anywhere speeding too fast through life/ is it cos I drink too much coffee that I'm mentally rushing through this cconversation already thinking of what I'm gonna do with my day once you're up and gone/ why can't I just chill with it and enjoy the moment/ I don't have a remote control button to freeze the sun and keep you here with me shortie so I've gotta lap up the milk of time you're giving me like a happy cat and don't complain/ cos I cant prolong your stay for any longer than you wanna be here/ I'm sincere in my apology for trying to express my love for you in a physical way before you were ready/ I should have stuck with emotional expressions of the deep impression you carved into my heart right from the very start/ I guess I should have been more careful the kind of pics I was allowing my eyes to look at less than an hour before meeting you/ now I'm entreating you have mercy on me/ give me date number two/ or call it business meet/ cos I mix business with pleasure when the two of us are standing on the same street/ I'm demanding your attention never commanding it/ you could conquer the world if you quit hanging with twits/ do I include myself in that category/ guaranteed you could win a game of scattergories/ look at me I'm an allegory/ for what could happen if you trust in Jesus with your whole heart/ quit playing church and pushing HIm to the furthest branch of your birch/ I know sometimes life situations have got you out on a limb/ and I can't even imagine what you went through having to endure refugee camp/ dealing with that cramped space/ though I can relate to starting over in a brand new country where no one knows your name or face/ or the beauty of your personality/ I know it was hard for your folks cos they probably started at the top in your country then slid back to the bottom in ours/ having to begin all over again/ I remember how excited you were on the advent of becoming a citizen/ we've been through some happy times together/ getting higher than Everest/ stoked off that moment enthralled by your cleverness/ when you got into uni and excelled at those good grades/ when I saw you shining like constellations up on stage/ such a sensation I'm amazed/ you were on the line up for a folk festival I only visited as a paying guest/ is it only in my fantasies you lay your head down on my chest in wedded bliss/ baby let me comb your hair/ I love you in everything you wear/ can you do a fashion show for me when you select what you determine to be the best dress for that particular occasion/ you don't need any make up to look gorgeous/ I could wake up next to you every morning and fall asleep with my head besides yours on the pillow every evening/ you got me weeping like a willow cos I only share this double bed with ghosts and memories/ they say the rap game is a widow maker/ cos cats be onto you pouncing when you shake your money maker and bouncing round the house like that/ every dog on the block wants to chat with you/ wants to lock you in chains make a hood rat out of you/ but you aint going for their smooth talk/ cos your eyes are on your heavenly prize/ not just like some souls whose only goal is to see themselves blaze bright and all the rest of the world can just burn up like a pile of garbage you discarded in your yard cos you couldn't stand the sight of carnage/ they feed people to pigs in my country no really/ they got mafia operating in my local area maybe/ living next door to a bikie gang affiliated lady/ still she can't use her shotgun to make a hole in the foot of an intruder/ its crazy how our laws sometimes protects criminal elements more than it does those who are innocent victims/ I'm sick of chewing humble crow pie eating it just cos evil minded fools won't let sleeping dogs lie and give me peace/ as much as I care about the cause you're fighting for I can do it my own way without your help/ although you asked for mine you didn't want it in the way I was offering/ so I withdraw my assistance/ and I say forget about our friendship if you can't treat me right/ i'm not the scum between your toes/ i'm not a handkerchief you can wipe your bloody nose with/ i'm not that goober dripping from your snoz gonzo/ you think you're the fonz but you're barely fuzzy bear yet alone tonto/ Jah come to my aid pronto get this hate off my mind/ help me stop thinking about the friendships which I'm forced to leave behind/ should have drowned his companionship when my homegirl left me/ romantically though I was the one who hopped on that plane/ I didn't get why wendy Matthews song was sad cos I associated blue skies with gladness even though billy was right they do bring tears/ yet they can also fill you up with cheer/ when you know theres sunshine for days so yall can come out and play/ and I struggle to relate to songs about the sun which stays bright until late in the evening like those catastrophic gothic trolls panicking at the disco / cos I operate under a different hemisphere but I'm more concerned about concentrating on what unites us instead of what divides/ believe it or not/ I'm ripley praying for those victims of homicide regicide and suicide/ suckers talked about killing God yet He still lives/ despite all of our obnoxiousness such snotty nosed punks He still forgives/ some get drunk off their own pretentions of genius/ yet they forget God is the one who gives their clogs their cleverness and their pants their smartness/ I wont be a bossy boots if you don't shoot the messenger/ did I forget Jesus is in the drivers seat/ I permanently play the role of passenger/ who paid for my passage Yah/ I aint saying things just to massage your ego/ I don't care if the truth is offensive to people/ though I try to speak it in love I don't shove folks in boxes/ without my spirit finding its home in Christ I'm a vagrant with no fixed address having no place to rest like He spoke of Himself in unfavourable comparison to vixens and foxes ❤ 🙂

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thedear-photographerblog · 7 years

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To see which is image is either D S L R or I P H O N E : Hover your mouse over the image, If on phone select image to view.

DSLR

IPHONE

First a bit about you, your years in the industry and why you love photography?

Hey there, I’m Casey! Wife, mother, cheese and coffee lover (although not the two together, eek). I’m married to my best friend and together we have two boys (ages 7 and 20 months) along with two furry ladies who keep us plenty busy. We currently live in Peoria, IL, a small city a few hours outside of Chicago. For years, being a musician was the creative force and drive in my life, but after becoming a parent, it no longer made sense to be out till the wee hours of the morning playing to the bar crowd. I just didn’t have the zest for it in the same way. Not long before my son turned three, I finally decided to take “the camera” out to the park. I mean, I read the manual, so clearly I knew what I was doing. Right? Ugh, no….but, what I did know is that I was officially hooked. Photography was exactly what I needed in my life. If I am completely honest, my love of photography first grew out of learning, teaching myself something new. It really wasn’t until I found my voice in photography that the drive to document began. I think I have always observed people like a documentarian, but until I had a camera in my hand, my love for it hadn’t yet come alive. That day at the park was almost five years ago. I am still learning and documenting. Loving every minute of it!

DSLR

IPHONE

How do you feel about the threat to photography because of the new efficiency and versatility of phone cameras?

In my personal experience, I have learned so much about my photography style simply by shooting with my iphone, and would never see this tool as a threat to photography. In fact, I see it as the opposite. An asset to those who pursue photography. From the beginning, I only saw it as another, different tool through which to see the world. The challenge of shooting with my phone was completely different than shooting with my DSLR. While not the same technically, or as complicated, I found that shooting with my phone really gave me that calm to really see the moments. Especially in the beginning when I was still learning how to shoot manually with my “big girl camera”. I was able to see the moments and shoot, rather than panic about the exposure triangle. I was able to take the time to see the light and really observe it, and try new things.

DSLR

IPHONE

How often do you shoot with any of the given devices? (meaning do you shoot daily with either)

I shoot with both my iPhone and my DSLR daily. I will often use my iPhone with a little more spontaneity because it’s always so conveniently with me. There are definitely times that are less ideal, especially with a super active toddler, for me to have my DSLR with me when I leave the house. It’s much easier at home to use my big camera. To truly document, I need to have it out and ready so I’m not fiddling around in my bag and I might miss those important moments. So, chasing a toddler around in public, and being 100% present sometimes comes at the sacrifice of not using my big camera sometimes. Depending on what I am working on, or what I would like to accomplish, I will always have one or the other with me. Lately, I’ve been shooting more often with my DSLR as I have started filming with my camera on a regular basis. Motion is my new jam!

DSLR

IPHONE

Do you feel like Phone images can have the impact of DSLR ones.?

I truly do. You can capture all of the same elements with your phone. (dynamic light, mood, moment, movement, etc.) Some of my most favorite images over the years have been shot with my phone. For a few years now, I’ve been printing my iPhone images in books from Artifact Uprising. My kids love to look through them over and over. I have more recently, printed and framed, several iphone images for my walls at home. After all, they are our memories, and would impact us just the same if taken with any other camera.

DSLR

IPHONE

How do you feel about Iphone only photographers?

iPhone only photographers?…“Hell, yeah”. That’s what I say about that! I say…be you, whatever that is. If you don’t need a fancy, expensive, technically savvy camera to document the world you see, then more power to you. It’s not about what tools you use, its what you create that really matters. From my own personal experience, shooting often with both an iphone and dslr has only helped me become a better photographer. I don’t look at a phone camera as a camera that is less than. In fact, a little over a year ago, I was accepted as a ClickPro member at Clickin Moms by submitting a set of 200 iphone images. To me, I had nothing to lose by submitting images that I was proud of. I had found my voice in photography by shooting with whatever tool I felt like using at the time.

DSLR

IPHONE

Tell us about your processing, is cohesiveness important to you?

Usually my process with editing iPhone images is to edit in VSCO on my phone. I typically will edit using A6 or C3 depending on the image. I usually lower the opacity between 4-7 on those images. I will typically bump the contrast +1 or +2. Clarity +.5 or +1, and Sharpen at a 2. iPhone images typically look pretty sharp. Occasionally, I will just hand edit. For this project, I edited all the images raw in LR either hand edits or using the VSCO film packs 00 and 01. I love the fuji presets and the Kodak Gold presets. I will always tweak some good amount, and will most often adjust the split toning to my liking as well.

I wanted to edit both images, in this case, as close to exact as possible. I find the white balance in the iPhone is almost spot on. So much closer than with my Mark iV. I never custom white balance cause…”aint nobody got time for that.”

As far as cohesiveness,

I think so. Only until recently did I really even post much dslr work online, which seems so behind the times, I know. But, looking at what I found with shooting with my phone so frequently, I wanted both my voice and style to show through no matter what I was shooting with. Make sense? In a sense, the iPhone helped me find my shooting and editing style…so in essence it taught me how to achieve the results I wanted when using my dslr. Which really helped me achieve cohesiveness in my work ..and specifically for this challenge, I wanted to push cohesiveness as far as I could.

DSLR

IPHONE

Finally, What gear was used to achieve both iphone and dslr images?

Canon 5d Mark IV Sigma 35mm 1.4 Art Iphone 7plus

VSCO 01 – Fuji 160 – (tweaked) VSCO 00 – Kodak Gold 100 – – (tweaked) I may have hand edited a few, just can’t recall which ones.

DSLR

IPHONE

ABOUT THE ARTIST

Casey McCauley is a silly, loud-talking, music making, coffee addict. She resides in central Illinois where she spends the majority of her time juggling and documenting a magical life at home with her two boys, two giant furry ladies, and her comic-book making husband. In her spare time you may find her dancing in the kitchen, planning her next road trip, or riding the occasional roller coaster. (arms up, of course!)

WEBSITE | FACEBOOK | INSTAGRAM

IPHONE VS. DSLR CHALLENGE | Casey McCauley Photography To see which is image is either D S L R or I P H O N E…

#Illinois family photographer #IPHONE PHOTOGRAPHY #IPHONE VERSUS DSLR #IPHONE X DSLR #peorie family photographer #photography #photography blog #photography portfolio #PHOTOGRAPHY RESOURCES #PHOTOGRAPHY WORKSHOP

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powadeli · 7 years

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deconstruction 1.1 contextual awareness/industry awareness/products/creative output. EVALUATIVE REPORT

hi my name is David Chijioke Ibekwe aKa SAFARI,this nickname comes from a personal characteristic of me approaching the music,music always been a natural expression and a something coming from any feeling or emotive state of mind i been through,another reason the connect me to this name is,the passion i have for the world nature animals they inspired me a sense of grandeur and a connection between god and human kind.I am a song writer originally from Nigeria but burn in Italy in the city of Assisi Umbria.I’ve lived most of my life between there an a nearby city named perugia,my parents where separate sins i was a kid and then i’ve been always travelling between this two cities.i got clear reminds about my young kid,use to play football for years,and i was very good at it, at that time thought was all my life,it was the thing was kipping me alive and out from problems.My father was a musician around his 20′s he was playing base for a music band,and i remember him playing sometimes on sundays or playing vynils of high life Nigerian music,he been playing various, of different countries also,i remember lucky dube tapes planty,remember congolese music,cofi olamide or on the american pop soul music of sade,me and my older brother were living with my dad,and on the weekends my other older brother was coming to pic us up from dad home that were in (assisi) and he was taking us to mum home in (perugia).my holder brother is a music enthusiast tho,and he was dj when i was younger,and at that time his car speakers where totally modified to be loud.when he was coming out the street we knew it for the loud music he was playing,he was listening mostly dancehall/soca caribbean music and afrobeats,my mother was owner of an african restaurant/pub/club,when me an my brother was visiting on the weekends, we was always there at the restaurant an always between people and music.i been playing football from the 5 years old till my 19.sins i was younger i always been going school and football with my earphones,always had music on me,was listening before any football competition,buss schooling the street.I never thought before my 17 years old that i had this natural passion for music and may was more than a listening thing.ive started writing songs at 18, started with reggae music and rap,day after day my belief about the music world was stronger,when was on secondary school been studying at industrial technical institute,but never felt in love with it till diploma.i’ve started writing songs more or less everyday for this years i where living in Italy i’ve started working with some friends,we started recording and making projects after two years of training and work,i came out with a mix tape,and i had an amazing reaction from people,they was liked it, i was surprised and happy cause never thought that the music i been listening for all my life where what was making me feel good,was surprised someone cud ever like it,ive recorded many songs randomly in that years remember even the raw quality of all and the getting better time over time i been spending in to music,after the mix tape i’ve done an album of 11 tracks but i never released it.but never supposed,i’ve always been attracted from Afrobeats/caribbean music but my roots coming from old school rap,soul r&b and funky jazz,i got many mentors,and i think my mains that gave life to the music im doing today are singers like stevie wonder,fela kuti,bob marley ,marvin gaye,whitney houston,de la soul,fuggies,soul to soul,2pac ,B.I.G,Erika badu, method man and many more,music in this years teached me that the listening is one of the best ways to learn,I had influeces by many different types of music,that’s why today i can not say that i’ve a one mentor.furthermore i can not really give an identity to my style,i’ve started with reggae/dancehall music been doing some rap aswell on many songs,and the album that i’ve never relise was a well done mix of types of music,from reggae to hip hop fanky soulfull house and dancehall, had other experiences with music,im temperamentally a charismatic person and,that aspect of me helped me on all the live performances i’ve done till today..My first performance been to a event in a club called LIDO,was a freestyle and singing competition,i’ve won the singing one,I never been in many freestyle competitions cause i never been singing in italian apart from a couple songs,was been speaking italian for most of my life so for me been difficult to sing or rap freestyling in english at that time.i was writing more than freestyling was spending most of my day inside my room doing it.for a period i been working every day,after school with my friends,ive performed many times around my city,know im in London from more or less 3 years and im working full time in a bar,i got many things to learn about music many times i feel like im waisting my time doing something different than music,i would love to work full time in the music business and have more time for focus in what i really love and i enjoy to do,to improve it with all my might and kip and make it professional..And i know that the occasions are not many but if it were given to me i’ll do my best to handle it.

IMAGE AND IDENTITY:

Being a Nigerian originally but born in Italy as many others i got my own particular identity,i can not say that i am fully Nigerian as i can not say i am fully Italian,my identity is not clare but is unique,i got a big part of Nigerian culture in me but a big Italian to.

I can relate my own identity to someone representing my generation and the change the world going through,no language assigned to colour,milting pot, love and unity.I can relate my artist identity to music talking to many people in different languages,i can relate my identity as the voice of people that like me coming from different parts of the heart living in Italy and all around the world.

I want my image to be a prove of self made man,i want my image to be simple cause i am simple and i come from a humble family,I want to give power to people coming from districts like mine,big cities around the world,people from villages in Africa and in all the world,i want to encourage people and make them understand that nothing is impossible as is something I'm fighting for,i really feel part of the people and ordinary people is what i want to represent.

CREATIVE OUTPUT:

my first experiences with music have begun at the age of 18, with the help of a friend that was owing a little studio in his house,he’s holder than me of two years and he was already in the music for a bit longer than me, i started to record songs on rap and reggae character i had the first contact with the recording in a studio well equipped,i started to have a clear image of what i was doing little by little,before publishing the first songs i been writing and recording random songs for months,i been performing straight way,when something was ready we was looking for a performance to show what we made,so i was improving even my confidence to performance at the first real concrete contact with the performing artist world,and i been making my confidence trying to improve and give more value on the work we been doing,especially that year we worked a lot,we been performing as well on events.we relies my first ,mix tape.when we relies the mixtape i had a good feedback from the people,and even if my music was raw still cause my singing gave me a reason to put it on work harder.

i started to perform my mixtape around my city i been performing in different situations.in some way i feel very prepared for live performances,i think is one of my strongest aspects,after the mixtape we start working on an album called (I'm on the run).my first mixtape was more reflected to artist and mentors i was in to, like the game, jay-z n.w.a, snoop dogg fuguess,bob marley and lucky dude for the reggae tony matterhorn for the dancehall and others more.

bob Marley been one of the stronger motivation and a mentor for me to be a musician.I Loved the strength of his songs and words,he was unique on his kind.

Even this two guys done good part of my personal artist development,they made the first change in the rap/hip hop music they was the origin of every thing,for me and for many others.they’re the hugest example of the music i do come from.And when i remind them i like to think that if they was alive today they would have been like this.

And this artist are some of does ones that introduced me in the reggae dancehall world,especially damian marley,i’ve always love the positive vibes of the caribbean music.

i think that my product as music is enjoyable from many people of different ages and different cultures.i like to play on notes and melodies as i like to rap and change to melodic rhythmic.

401/2.1

SHOWCASE OF FEBRUARY.

with urban development in the foreground we been presenting ourselves artist knowledge and we were asked to chose images we liked, to motivate the choice and to express the essence of does, we were asked to tell about our background and previous music experiences and influences,we been discussing about whats behind an artist,whats the purpose and all of this here an artist is surrounded, which is very important cause many times artists are not really reflecting on whats behind them own music and we don’t give much attention to what we trying to achieve instead having a clear idea analyzing step by step.We basically did an in-depth research about our selves and how to give more value to our actions.

I am living in London for almost 3 years and i haven't done any performance before the one of February sins I'm here,my last performance been in Italy and for the show case my thought was to take it as trying refresh my confidence with it,i wasn’t having any kind of tension about it,was just thinking had to make it. I'm working full time most of the days on the closing shift of the bar,so I'm very use to write during the night,from two days before the showcase i been finishing an exercising a song that i hadn't finish before called ‘’every day’’the song talking about a girl that comes out in the same place that I and my friends are listening to,and she is simple and beautiful and everyone seeking her attention.

i chose that song and i worked out melodies and variations for a performance contest,i been working till late morning and i came out with a grate verse and good melodies.was excited about it and was ready for the showcase.

the day of the show case before we started the performance we been trying the songs,

at the beginning i was thinking to perform just a song cause i thought that was the time available to perform for itch of us,during the afternoon we knew we cud perform more than one song, i was preparing for the first song and when i finish to work on that one i supposed to start refresh the second one that i’ve chose and i’ve wrote couple weeks earlier but i thought that i was all right,and i didn’t practice the second song,and it was the one i started the performances and when my turn came in the middle of the song i choke and i lost the rhythm and i’ve song half verse and the last chorus,wasn’t expecting to get froze cause i was feeling ready,i gave space to the artist after me and when my time came back again i performed ‘’everyday’’.it gone well,apart the mistake in the other song,that anyway teaches me to never forget to practice and refresh my own songs before a performance even if i feel more than ready.

MY OWN BRAND 2.1:

I'm still working on a nice logo to promote with my music,my logo name is (self made) I always been thinking to unite my music to a fashion clothing brand,i would like to do it but don't got a clear idea at the moment even if i love fashion and i care about my image as musician.I really like acting,and i think that acting is part of music I'm already thinking to make a corse and learn more to put some more knowledge in to my carrier.

MARKET AWERNESS:

my plans for this year are many,I'm starting to publish music here in London and you can find my music on soundcloud and youtube mostly.i want top m,market my music differently even with live and short videos in Facebook instagram and other socials.

CLIENT FANBASE:

Think my target audience is people from 15 to 40′s but i can not give a limit to my target cause i think that my music in years can be likeable from people of different ages been honest can't identify without a feed back,and i think that my music is for a womans who like to dace as mans and all people who like a different vibe and emotion.think that this days people listening more my kind of music,cause is rhythmic sensual and soulful and thers many artist out there doing a grate job with this music.i would like my fanbase to follow me an like me as i am,not pretending to be loved from everyone but think that the best way to let the people know you is to be your self,think that how you're in social networks you should be in life,I'm part of ordinary people so I'm fine with that.

INDUSTRY AWARENESS:

the kind of music I'm in to today is mostly is about new generation afrobeat/caribbien music,in my case is quiet mix with the rap hip hop religion,got ideas of music labels that cud be interesting for me like ‘’mavin records,YBNL nation,starboy entertainment,epic sony records black butter records.

my plans are to build a fan base in England and in Italy at the moment,I'm Nigerian and would like to get even the Nigerian attention and I'm working forward to get it.

401/1.3 - Tumblr Presentation (Deconstruction of the Artist

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