Tumgik
#SNEAK PEAK AT HUMAN!PHILIP
rreskk · 7 months
Note
The moment I saw you and some other amazing tumblr accounts writing about gothssssss OMGMMGMGMG. Okay okay okay, I'm sorry but this request is kind of weird. Fem reader who's a goth with Trevor. Blood kink? pls? and like the reader is lowkey dom but still sub?? The reader has like a vampire kink basically or whatv. IDK HOW TO DESCRIBE IT BUT I FEEL LIKE YOULL DO GREAT. THANK YOU SM
And all the goth lovers have RISEN FROM THE DEAD! Welcome to the land of living corpses my loves ;)
Summary: Trevor loves himself a girl with dark senses.
TW: -Smut
Pairings: Goth Fem!reader/ Trevor Philips
Word count: 1777 (I should of made if 1666 for the vibe lol)
Tumblr media
It wasn’t really a thought during the time. While his finger would constantly cry to rip your fishnets, freeing whatever surprise you had under this extravagant exterior, he wouldn’t mind either outcomes. This was just some random guy you had been seduced by when clubbing. His dirty tongue and provocative lips; how could you refuse? He was a human meat chamber for your hunger. Nonetheless, he was absolutely handsome. There was this unnatural aura to this man who claimed to be some-sort of sinner. By the way he’d beg for your pussy, maybe he was a sinner. A strong sinner.
He was called Trevor.
Trevor Philips
A likely hot-heated freak you’ve wrapped around your finger after a night of exploring Satan’s backrooms. Remembering the way he moaned your name as your hands pulled onto his godforsaken hair – well… What was left of his hair. Even if he was such an awful person, that doesn’t stop you from seeing him every now and then. Besides, he loves himself a gothic woman such as you. He’s never explored a lady with such darkness to her, that he’s simply addicted.
-
Tonight was like no-other night. You’ve found yourself pressing your heavy boots upon his thigh, watching the way he crawled his hands up and down your fishnets and black skirt. His eyes were begging. He was like a puppy losing his mother.
“C’mon…” He whispered lowly, occasionally tugging on your tights, making one of the holes bigger by moment.
You trailed your sharp nails across his thinning hair and smiled. Trevor was relieved at your affection and fell into your palm until the nail pierced his scalp.
“Ah! – “ But his hiss was paused when you pressed kisses upon the now seeping blood. It oozed down to his scarred eyebrow, the sensation tickling his facial hairs. Trevor shivered. He wasn’t fazed at all, instead, he was extremely aroused. That bulge within his jeans had twitched; you saw it twitch crazily. It was like a rabid animal trying to free itself from his clothes.
You kissed away the trails of blood until smudges remained. His hands around your thighs squeezed tighter as he was getting very impatient. The poor man was on his knees, practically clinging to your legs. You’d find that he would try and take a sneak peak from under your skirt but of course, you kneed him away, earning a rather husky groan.
“[y/n]! You can’t be teasing me anymore,” Trevor grumbled at your sadistic behaviour, “Let me fuck you, yeah? A good fuck… Baby?”
“I’m enjoying myself. Are you not?” You uttered with his blood staining your lips.
“I am enjoying myself, sweets… But I’d be happier if you gave into me. C’mon, I know you just wanna have that thing ripped off you, yeah?”
You glanced down at your corset and airy shirt that he was referring to. While covered up, your bra was visible through the black, long-sleeved shirt. He had his sights fixated on it since the moment you had him kneeing. From his current height, the size of your breasts were huge. He’d have to lean back just to see your face, but that’s a problem he LOVEDhaving.
“I wanna see you.” He’d protest again, continuously.
“You want so much.”
“You offer so much.”
His snarky comment made you roll your eyes back. There wasn’t a fault in his words but the audacity was grudge-worthy. Still, he looked at you with innocence. That “please, honey?” expression never fails to make your legs a tiny bit weak. Who wouldn’t? Them brown eyes are not for the soft-minded. He uses them with the intent to shatter and dismantle the chosen prey; you.
“Fine…” You breathed, studying the way he slowly stood to his feet. Trevor painfully waited until he was hovering over you, due to his height. He smirked down and allowed his hands to reach the back of your corset.
You’d gasp. He ripped it open. Trevor’s scowl twitched as he used his arm strength to rip the ribbons, releasing the pressure it had on your outfit and stomach. It was thrown aside with a massive thump and he didn’t stop there, no way. He eagerly held the shirt over your head and removed that as well. You were shirtless before him.
“Mmm…” His teeth were gritting at the view of your bra and breasts. Your crucifix was buried between them. He pulled it out before sniffing the scent. He sniffed loudly, moaning at the smell.
“Trevor – “ Words were taken as he smashed his mouth against yours. The necklace dangled around your chest, his hands moving from your hips to your ass. He deepened the kiss until you were pressed against the nearby wall. That constant clutter and swaying of the picture frames, etc… It wasn’t a bother to him. As long as you were pressed against him, there wasn’t a worry in the world.
The make-out session had left you panting for air. Trevor threw off your bra and crucifix necklace, diving his face between your tits and licking the hell out of them. He’d murmur words of affirmation as you’d bite your tongue. His tongue was so nasty against your sensitive nipple, it was almost too good to be true.
“Oh, yes…” And the growing heat inside your lower tummy was growing feral. You needed him now. Your grinded your hips against his beasty boner that had managed to rest against the hem of his jeans.
Trevor cursed, “Fuck…” When you had grinded hard into him. The extra heat was menacing.
Your back was rubbing the wall since there was no obvious hints that a bed was going to be used. Instead, he lifted one of your legs up and torn the fishnets apart around your crotch area. He was panting at the desperation. Your skirt was lifted up and soon enough, your pussy was out in the open. And it was wetter than the ocean.
“Just how I fuckin’ like it, babe.” He smiled and shuffled his jeans down to his ankles. With your help, his erection came bursting from his pants. Your fingers gently massaged the tip as he foamed at the mouth with hot saliva. He stared into your eyes with pure desire that a few drools went unnoticed.
“C’mon, Trevor.”
“I’m coming… I’m comin’, babe.” His words dragged like he was barely sober. Suddenly the usage of alcohol and meth would kick in the second he was in contact with raging hormones.
Trevor lined up his penis, slapping your hand away with urgency. You smirked at his snappiness. He frowned when slapping your hand. That frown was oddly petty but disgustingly attractive. You couldn’t help yourself as you’d lean forward, sinking your teeth into his pulsing neck and making him thrumble relentlessly. Trevor tried to keep his composure, rubbing his penis against your sex but that stinging pain of your canines made him squawk.
“Shit! [y/n]!”
That didn’t stop you from sinking deeper. You waited and waited and waited until that iron taste of his blood (once again). He was left clinging to your chest and whimpering. Your teeth were too harsh on his fragile neck – that was now painted with crimson liquid. You refurnished yourself and stared forward.
“Sorry, baby… I couldn’t help myself.” You offered an apology like there wasn’t red colour around your lips and teeth.
Trevor looked bitter as fuck. He glared at your bravery. He wiped his neck and noticed the running blood dribbling down from the permanent bite mark.
“Fuck…” He murmured to himself, “That’s so fuckin’ hot…”
You were baffled when he licked your lips, tasting his own blood. He gave his tongue a click and grinned, he was satisfied.  
“Heh…” A nervous breath left your departed mouth before he kissed you again. During this kiss, he had thrusted his hips into yours, therefore, penetrating you – finally – with his own cock. The amount of times you moaned into his mouth as the pace was already unbearably fast. By all means, you were constantly slammed against the wall with his every thrust and recoil.
“TREVOR! – “
But he refused to stop kissing. It was an excruciating pleasure. Your make-up, that was already ruined from his kisses beforehand, had ended up caking him as well. Your red and black lipstick smudged all over his jaw and neck, your foundation leaving powdering splodges against his cheek and nose. When he did pull away, the make-up was mutual on both faces. It was almost like he was wearing more than you.
“That’s right… Oh, yeah! Fuck me!” Trevor proudly yelled when wrapping one of your legs around his waist to deepen the access to your pussy. You’d cry and squirm and moan and groan and fidget and sweat and pant and shriek.
“Harder!”
“Oh… That’s my fuckin’ girl!”
Until your hips were reddened, the thrusts were passionate still. There had to be rashes from his skin rubbing against yours constantly. You felt tingling and some burning, but it was blankly ignored since his dick was giving you the joy of a lifetime and more.
“Trevor! Trevor! Christ!” You hurried as the butterflies in your stomach grew intense. The beginning of your climax was happening and apparently he was experiencing the same. He was twitching non-stop, his eyes and his cock. You stroked a hand through his sweaty hair, tugging on a bundle before his body shook.
“I’m gonna… I’m gonna! – “ Trevor kissed the corner of your mouth as he continued fucking you.
Momentarily, it came. You came, he came, the feeling came. It rushed. He hunched forward and pinned you against the poor wall as his cock squirted all on your skirt and tummy. You too had cum rushing out of your pussy, drizzling down your thighs and legs. In some parts, it stuck your fishnets to your skin (well, what’s remaining of them anyway).
“Fuckin’…” He struggled to breathe.
You bite your lip and rubbed the soreness of his neck, feeling his tension from looking down at your body. A small grumble responded to your affections and he simply carried you to the sofa. Your boots were torn off, so was your cum-stained skirt. Being left naked, he just climbed on top of you and sighed. His face found home between your breasts and it was clear, non-verbally, that was needed a good old-fashioned cuddle. Naked edition.
“There we go.” You softly kissed his forehead and allowed your body to finally rest.
“My neck hurts…” That muffle responded from between your boobs.
“I know, baby, I know…”
“Bite me more sometimes.”
You couldn’t help but grin, “Alright… As you wish.”
28 notes · View notes
bornspellcaster · 9 months
Note
Is there a sneak peak yet? I'm really invested into this fanfic!
(BTW, Caleb being Philip's adoptive father/brother is just *chefs kiss*)
(I suppose I’ve kept y’all waiting long enough! And yes I agree, there will be many scenes of their flangst)
Sneak Peek!
Chapter 5 - Ultimatum - Philip’s bravery is put to the test when he needs to make a hard decision
“Hey can I call you Papa?”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
“Please?”
“Why do you even want to?” The man finally tossed his hands out in exasperation, and partially to try and wave off the shadow child looming over his head. …He wondered if he might also wave away the warmth that seeped within, to the question. 
These brats and their…emotional curses…
“Well you kind of look after us,” Eclipse shrugged. “Oh, and it annoys you so I want to.”
Ah, well there went the warmth. Philip felt the embarrassed and endeared pink drain from his cheeks and ears as his face fell deadpan in record speed. “Seriously? Why aren’t you bothering Luz, like you always are? Luz loves playing with you.”
“Luz isn’t much fun today!” the baby complained. His gaze drifted back to the teenager that had her face pressed against Philip’s back. That was concerning enough on its own…but it was honestly the uncomfortable heat that was radiating through the fabric to his back that was raising the red flags. 
It was very chilly outside now, the post rainstorm having cooled in the grass and left its damp in the air. She…had no reason to have a body temperature like that. 
“Luz?” He jostled her lightly with an elbow. “Luz? Are you…napping?” he asked awkwardly.
Eclipse floated back next to the teenager’s side, but in typical child naivety, he didn’t seem to grasp the situation. “Yeah what’s with the nap, Luzzy? You promised me you’d teach me to fly a staff, and here you’re all…” He trailed off at Philip’s withering glare.
Philip redirected his attention to Luz and his face softened an increment. Seeing the darkening bags under her eyes as she notably weakly looked up, it softened more. “Luz.”
“Just…more tired than I thought.” Luz’s lips turned up in what she hoped was a convincing smile. Her lips looked pale…
Philip merely nodded, deciding to humor the very…blatant lie. “Right. Well, we’re going to do a supply run then,” he informed the kids as his feet finally hit the damp auburn grass. Hopefully the heinous creatures of this town had some sort of medication suitable for human children…
12 notes · View notes
elementalgod-aj · 7 months
Text
Anthro Allies Remastered (Part 4)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Part Two of the mammals
Lagomorphs
Sprint (Rabbit hybrid)
Gregory ( Continental Giant/Flemish Giant)
Eira (Snowshoe Hare)
Jack/Seac (Hare/ Jackrabbit)
Chica (Pika)
Ignatius (Volcano Rabbit)
Rodents
Zuke (Grasshopper Mouse), Peak (House/Field Mouse), Duke (Pack rat), Sneak (Black/Brown Rat), Poke (Spiny Mouse), Mesh (Maned Rat). Bound (Jerboa), Branch (Birch Mouse), Squeak (Mouse-Like Hamster), Cheeks (Hamster), Leap (Gerbil), Flirt (Vole), Ermentrude (Bamboo Rat/African Mole rat), Root (Zokor), Cliff (Lemming), Kastur (Muskrat)
Engi (Beaver), Kicks (Kangaroo rat), Go-4 (Gophers), Pouch ( Pocket mouse)
Rookie (Guinea Pig), Virtue (Capybara), Buster (New World Porcupine), Patricia/Thorn (Old World Porcupine), Cookie (Chinchilla), O.T. (Nutria), Bare (Naked Mole Rat), Dwojra (Blesmol Mole Rat)
Wrilly (Grey Squirrel), Maple (Red Squirrel), Danny (Chipmunks), Glide (Flying Squirrel), Philip (Marmot/Groundhog), Maisie (Prairie Dog), Areca (Palm Squirrel), Bling (Oriental Giant Squirrel), Nobby (Dormouse), Mount (Mountain beaver)
Fisk (Spring Hare), Screwy (Scaly tail), Twinge (Flying Mouse)
Scandentia
Felicity (Large Treeshrew)
Banxs (Pen Tailed Treeshrew)
Dermoptera
Galan (Philippine Colugo/Flying Lemur)
Flag (Sunda Colugo/Flying Lemur)
Primates
Anomy (Unspecified Monkey)
Ina (Unspecified Monkey) Belongs to @mabelcococups
Richie (Lemur)
Tara (Tarsier)
Manga (Old and New World Monkey)
Samosa (Ape)
Wicked (Human/Fae)
Forge (Human/ Shapeshifter)
Quilia (Human/Fire creature)
Xuitra (Human/Ice Creature)
Mystery (Mutant Human)
Historia (Mutant Human)
Mada/Adam (Clone Human)
Emey (Human)
Previous/Next
(For More Information About The Earthdemons, Neo demons, The Anthro allies , the O'Kong family and more of theses characters as well as updates please visit the @the-earthdemon-hub for more)
4 notes · View notes
femreader · 4 years
Text
Slowly but surely - Maleficent
Request: can you write a fem!reader x maleficent where the reader was found injured in the moors and maleficent decided to take care of her, not wanting to fall in love but in the end she does??
Summary: The reader is from our world and is found by Aurora and the co. In the middle of the Moors. Some explanations are demanded on either side.
Pairing: Maleficent x fem!reader, mom!Maleficent x daughter!Aurora
Warnings: none I think except my crappy writing 
A/N: Been listening to lots of Elton
Song: Tiny Dancer by Elton John 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“I am not-”
“Mother please,” Aurora looked up at her with her big blue eyes. Her hand was still resting over the unconscious’ woman’s hand. Her pale skin was dirtied by mud and blood, and her breathing seemed to be rather heavy. Maleficent grimaced at the thought of helping another completely unknown person. 
“Just heal her, please. We will handle everything else.”
“Where did she come from,” Diaval furrowed his eyebrows, and Aurora turned her head to look at the crow at the end of the bed. 
“We do not know,” She sighed and glanced at Philip. “We were riding and found her in these weird clothes in a pitch.” 
The princess turned to Maleficent once more and cocked her head to the side, knowing she had the fae wrapped around her little finger. Maleficent held back an eye roll and swished her hand, the golden swirl settled on the stranger’s body, healing her wounds and cleaning her appearance. 
“I want to meet her once she wakes up,” Maleficent informed to the people in the room. She glanced at the weird-looking woman on the big bed and squinted her eyes. Where did you come from?
Where am I? 
...
And what am I wearing?
Y/N blinked furiously as she sat up, on the creaky bed, her abs were aching. Furrowing her eyebrows she slowly got up, cracking her toes while she was at it. Jesus, how long had she been out? Y/N walked slowly, pushing the heavy wooden door open and taking a peak from the hallway outside. She seemed to be in some sort of castle. It kinda reminded her of one of those Taylor Swift music videos. Her eyes set on the small pitchfork for the fireplace.
She stepped outside and skipped over to the window by the end of the hallway, a very medieval-looking village opened before her eyes. Y/N clutched the pitchfork in her hands even tighter.
“The hell...?”
“Oh, good you’re awake,” A female voice spoke up and Y/N jumped around in her spot. She held up the pitchfork up and was met with a blonde looking woman. Y/N gulped down and tried to put up a strong face. 
“What the hell is this place? Who are you?”
“You’re in my home. We found you injured in the woods,” The woman answered with a kind voice. It was so soft and innocent Y/N involuntarily let the pitchfork fall back on her side. 
”Your home as in...?”
”The Moors of course,” she answered with a slightly confused smile. Aurora couldn’t comprehend how this strange woman couldn’t know where she was. Everyone knew the place, no one ever talked about anything else. 
”My name’s Aurora?” She said in a slightly questioning voice, thinking the stranger would have maybe recognized her already.
Y/N let her grip on the pitchfork loosen and it fell on the floor with a loud clank. Aurora slightly cringed at the loudness while Y/N was freaking her mind out in her spot. She blinked rapidly and felt her chest move up and down rapidly with her breathing. Her hands brushed through her hair, a nervous habit she had.
”You’re not... I-I mean your- Was your father named Stefan?” She rambled, very confused and very scared. 
”Why, yes. He was,” Aurora was taken back. ”How did you know?”
”Aurora? What is this?” A new voice joined their conversation and Y/N was ready to jump through the window. When she turned around and was faced with a... fairy of sorts, Y/N was ready to actually jump through the glass. She looked at the woman, eyes wide and mouth open but in return did not get more than a bat of an eye. Her heart was going through the roof, Y/N was sure she was going into cardiac arrest.
“Godmother,” Aurora walked next to Y/N and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. The human looked at the blonde and then the woman, and back at Aurora. 
“This is...” The princess looked at Y/N in question, realizing she hadn’t even gotten her name yet. It took good 30 seconds for Y/N’s brain to function properly once again. 
“Y-Y/N,” she blabbered and blinked furiously. 
“I’m sorry but... how, did I get here?” 
Aurora and Maleficent shared a look, this was going to be a long night. 
Tumblr media
Days passed, then months and soon Y/N realized she had been in the world of fairies and pixies for almost a year. Still, there was no evidence on how she managed to detach herself from her original world, nor how could she ever get back. Y/N did her best to be useful and help around the Moors and the castle until she’d depart, but given the long wait, she had grown used to waking up in her bed in the castle (Maleficent still would not let her spend more than the daylight at Moors), smelling the sweet baked cakes and cookies when getting breakfast and smiling and chatting with the villagers. They were such lovely folk and very understanding. Trade was common, so gold wasn’t really that necessary. Y/N admired that, the community was tightly knit but they didn’t even hesitate to take her in. 
So it did confuse her when one of the first people she had met didn’t want anything to do with her. 
“Miss Y/N, would you like some bread?”
“oh shut it, George, she clearly is in the mood for apples, freshly picked,” The town villagers bickered playfully to which Y/N chuckled and politely said no. 
“Fresh shrimp! Fresh shrimp, straight from the sea,” A merchant walked past Y/N with a stroller full of shrimps and crabs. Y/N smiled to him also and continued her stroll towards the music shop. 
“Ah, Y/N, yes, yes, come in. I have it right back there, sit, sit I’ll be right back,” The older man, Thomas, exclaimed as soon as Y/N stepped inside the shop. She chuckled at the elder’s antics and leaned to the counter to wait for her ukulele. Y/N had no idea if that was what the people here called it, but after drawing a picture for them, Thomas was eager to build her one. Music was something Y/N was missed dearly from her old world. 
“And here, she’s a beauty. You chose the wood perfectly,” Thomas showed her the final product. Y/N looked at it in awe, it must have been the most precise and beautiful ukulele she had ever held. The dark wood was smooth and almost silky in her hands. The strings worked together perfectly, Y/n couldn’t hear one note out of place. 
“Here you go,” She gave Thomas his money and played a couple of chords. 
“It’s amazing, thank you so much.” 
Thomas looked at the ukulele with pride and nodded to the girl. 
“You must play at the fall festival,” he boasted, holding his thumbs underneath his suspenders. “You sound rather dashing.” 
Y/N blushed a little and hung the ukulele around her neck from the leather belt. 
“I-I’m not s sure of that. But thank you, really,” She dismissed herself as another client came into the shop. 
Now very content with the ukulele around her neck, and feeling much more at home, Y/N sneaked out of the village and near the edge of the forest, where the Moors was hidden. She sighed, wondering if anyone would mind her going in at this time of the day as the sun was setting. She’d love to see the sunset from the waterfalls someday, but a certain someone immediately crossed her mind from thinking about it. 
So Y/N ended up staying by a lonely tree in the middle of the field. There was a strong branch, not far away from the ground where she spent most of her time, watching the sunset down the horizon. When the golden and pink rays hit her face and made everything a tad bit magical. 
“And you can hear me. When I say softly... slowly” Y/N played with he strings and finding the right tabs. She cleared her throat, watching the sunset and sang to herself quietly. 
“Hold me closer tiny dancer” A couple of strings weren’t right and she corrected herself. 
“Count the headlights on the highway. Lay me down in sheets of linen. You had a busy day today.” 
“What a sad song,” a familiar, but a very unexpected voice spoke and Y/N stopped playing. She looked behind her from where Maleficent flew to the branch with ease. Y/N felt her cheeks tint a little, very much taken aback by the fact that the fae even talking to her. 
“I-I guess,” She mumbled with slightly tinted cheeks. “It’s beautiful.” 
Maleficent squinted her eyes a little as she scanned Y/N’s sudden change in her demeanor. Red was splashed on her cheeks and ears, it was almost adorable how flustered she got. The fae hummed in response. 
“How was your day?” Y/N suddenly piped up, while playing with the strings of that weird instrument. She bit her lip when they sat in silence, hoping she didn’t sound awkward. 
“Busy,” Maleficent said cleverly, a slight smile tugging her red lips. Y/N didn’t suppress her laugh but let it out. Her teeth were pearly white even in the setting sun. Her skin seemed to glow in the golden rays. 
Y/N huffed silently and rolled her lips together, continuing to play the song. Maleficent noticed faint, white line going down her side of neck when Y/N rolled her head to her side to see the strings properly. Her voice was very beautiful, even though Maleficent didn’t understand anything that she was singing about. she was a very odd woman. 
Still, she couldn’t help but love her more every day. 
Tumblr media
354 notes · View notes
Text
Coming Back for You 6
A/N: no smut this chapter. Mostly fluff and light humor 
Words: 2,776
Link to previous chapter 
Pairings: Gabriel x OFC. Dean x Cas x OFC Special shout out to @sumara62 and @tas898 for letting me run ideas past you both. ❤️ you both helped me more than you will know!!! p>
______
After Gabriel and Rosalie had disappeared into their bedroom, Zoe collapsed on the couch with a hand over her face. Cas walked in with Lily in one of his arms. He looked at his lover with a confused expression.
“Zoe, what happened at the park today?”
Zoe looked up at Lily then deadpanned at Cas before making a cold rag appear in her hands. She leaned her head back against the couch and put the rag over her eyes. The angel had enough for that day!
“Whatever she just told you is true.”
Cas frowned looking down at his little niece. Lily looked vindicated by her aunt’s words.
“So you are telling me that Gabriel disintegrated angels?”
Zoe nodded.
“Mhm. It was like the fourth of July but with angel parts. Kinda of proud of the giant pain the ass though. He did keep all of us safe. Ugh can’t believe that I am saying that. Kill me now.”
Cas tilted his head before putting Lily down.
“Why don’t you go play with your brother?”
Lily pouted.
“I swear all you big people do is talk, talk, and talk. Mommy and Daddy locked themselves in their bedroom now you two are going to be talking. Sheesh if this is what I have to look forward to I think I will stay little forever.”
Cas smiled.
“We are just going to sit here and tell each other how much we love each other.”
Lily snarled her nose at that.
“Yuck I am out of here!”
Zoe peaked out from under her cold compress as Cas walked over sitting down beside her.
“That was very out of character for you Castiel. You usually explain everything to them.”
Cas shrugged.
“Something tells me this situation is a lot more serious than what a four year old should know…no matter how advanced they are.”
Zoe nodded with a sigh.
“Well you are right about that. Apparently Raphael is after Gabriel and the kids now. I may hate on Gabriel but I have never seen that look on his face before. Ugh Cas we are about to be up for a hell of a fight soon I believe.”
Cas leaned back on the couch.
“Everything will be fine.”
Meanwhile…
Gabriel and Rosalie walked out of their bedroom hoping to appear that they hadn’t just literally attacked each other.
“Daddy?”
Gabriel looked down at Lily who was holding a shoe box.
“What’s up buttercup?”
Lily frowned.
“So Liam and I found a hamster and put him in this box. He isn’t moving.”
Gabriel and Rosalie exchanged looks as he took the box from his daughter. Rosalie knelt down Lily’s level looking at her closely.
“How long have you had the hamster and where did you find it?”
Lily shrugged.
“I made it and a couple of days. His name is Philip.”
Rosalie glanced back to Gabriel. He frowned a few times muttering oh boy under his breath. Looking back to Lily, Gabriel couldn’t bring himself to tell his daughter that the hamster was dead….very dead.
“He may just be taking an extra long nap sugar. I’ll take him in here and keep an eye on him. I’ll let you know when he wakes up.”
Seeming pleased with her father’s response Lily went back to join her brother. Rosalie stood, stepping closer to Gabriel who started shaking the box.
“Gabriel, is it dead?”
Gabriel winced before motioning Rosalie into another room out of the twins earshot.
“Philip is no longer with us in the physical sense. Rose they didn’t put holes in the box….you get the idea where this conversation is going.”
Rosalie put a hand over her mouth. Gabriel continued to shake the box in some vain hope the hamster would just hop back to life.
“This is going to break her heart. Poor thing. This is like the time dad put my platypus in Australia.”
Rosalie looked at Gabriel resisting the urge to tell him that the platypus had actually died and God just didn’t have the heart to tell him. Deciding it would be best to just let sleeping dogs lie, Rosalie sighed.
“We have to tell her.”
Gabriel shook his head.
“I can bring it back.”
Rosalie shook her head.
“No way! Gabriel you know if we brought the hamster back it would probably be completely opposite of how it was. Besides like it or not the kids have to learn about death. They are going to be seeing plenty of it before long.”
Gabriel looked down at the stiff hamster sadly.
“Too bad it has to be now.”
Before Rosalie’s conversation could be continued there was knock at the bunker door. Dean stood from his place at the table to answer it. Gabriel didn’t look up again until he heard footsteps coming into the room. Looking up he frowned noticing Chuck a few feet away.
“Hello Gabriel, Rosalie.”
Gabriel instantly frowned.
“Dad”
He said replied coldly. Rosalie gave him a disapproving expression before trying to smile warmly.
“Hello Chuck. What brings you by?”
Chuck shrugged.
“Just thought I would come by for a visit and see how things were. I heard that you two were back together.”
Gabriel shut the lid on the shoe box but kept his eyes focused on his father.
“Yeah, things are fine and dandy. Glad you could come by for this but couldn’t for anything else that has happened in the past million or so years.”
Rosalie shook her head. She knew exactly where this was headed. Gabriel was about to have an epic meltdown and go into asshole mode.
“Gabriel please. Don’t do this for Liam and Lily sake.”
Looking curious Chuck cut in,
“Who are Liam and Lily?”
No one had noticed Liam or Lily inch their little way into the room and was watching the conversation with amused expressions. They were both clearly interested by the new guy that stood in the room with Gabriel and Rosalie.
“We are.”
They both said cheerfully at the same time. Chuck looked down at the twins with wide eyes. He kept looking at them for a moment as Zoe and Cas walked in freezing at the sighed in front of them. When he finally recovered enough he looked up at Rosalie.
“Nephilim? I thought I said no nephilim? I made it specifically clear! Like I had a whole presentation on them! And….there are two….twins!”
Chuck looked at Rosalie specifically.
“How? You’re an angel, one of my children so….”
Gabriel smirked before raising his hand slightly and shrugged.
“Uh, that was me, dad. I made her human for a little while. What can I say…I wanted kids.”
Zoe swallowed muttering to Cas that Gabriel was a dead man while Chuck tried to process everything that he had just heard.
“Oh for the love of myself….twin nephilim and they are Gabriel’s.  How are you all still alive?! They haven’t pranked anyone to death, right?”
Liam meanwhile, looked to his sister with a confused expression.
“What’s got grandpa’s undies in a bunch?”
Lily focused her attention on Chuck. She tilted her head taking in his confused and upset demeanor.
“We are sweet and charming.”
Gabriel looked down at them with pride in his eyes as they latched onto his legs.
“Yeah, they are darling. They aren’t like the things that you envisioned dad. Besides if you want to get technical about it they aren’t full nephilim since Rosalie and I are both angels. So in hindsight we really didn’t do anything wrong.”
Chuck looked down at the kids clinging to their father’s legs again. Their golden eyes were watching every move that he made with curiosity. Sure they were cute….beyond cute. They were the cutest thing that Chuck had ever seen. Liam looked just like Gabriel as a child. That really got Chuck in the heart….it was like looking at his youngest archangel in reverse. But what exactly could they do? What damage could they cause? That was his worry. Just looking at them he could sense a lot of power brewing in them. When they grew up what would they be capable of? If it was one that would be something he could deal with but two was out of this world crazy!  
Dean stepped forward.
“Chuck, in all due respect, they really are good kids. Yeah, they like to pull tricks on people…like sticking my hand in a bowl of warm water when I was sleeping, signing me up for a new spiritual group who keeps sending me literature, sneaking animals into the bunker, making a caramel onion instead of an apple, and my personal favorite eating the cream out of the Oreo. Yeah Lily I am talking about you. But the point is I don’t think they are going to Gabriel’s level of crazy yet. They just think they are clever and could really come to use someday. We are all kind of attached to them.”
Liam smirked at Chuck.
“We are kind of a big deal grandpa.”
Lily smiled batting her eyes.
“We are a lot of fun.”
Chuck ran a hand over his face as he began to pace the room. The twins little innocent voices and being called grandpa was kind of getting to him.
“Okay, everything is fine. This is just all a little bit of a shock! Totally unexpected you know.”
Liam, seeming pleased enough with Chuck’s comment, turned walking from the room. Lily meanwhile, looked at Gabriel.
“Daddy, did Philip wake up?”
Gabriel winced.
“Eh….no. Not yet….he’s still out.”
Lily sighed.
“All he does not is sleep. Kind of a boring pet.”
Lily turned walking from the room ignoring her father’s less than excited expression. When she was out of the room Rosalie focused her attention on Gabriel.
“You are going to have to tell her.”
Gabriel shook his head.
“I can’t! I am bringing the little fucker back. Better yet…Dean go bury this box. I’ll make her a new one. She’ll never know the difference.”
Dean frowned.
“Something about you telling me to go bury a box is unsettling. Besides who is Philip? This bunker is getting too full.”
Gabriel sighed.
“Its well it was Lily’s hamster. She forgot to put holes in the lid and well you get the idea.”
Dean rolled his eyes looking at Chuck.
“See what I mean about them sneaking animals in here? Now we have a dead hamster.”
Chuck looked back to Gabriel.
“Its dead son. What’s dead should stay dead. Speaking of messing with nature that is a discussion that you and I need to have. What made you think that messing with nature to have children was a good idea? This is dangerous and risky! Everything that I told you all from the beginning was wrong. If I had meant for angels to have children I would have done your biology different. Now you are debating on bringing a hamster back so you won’t have to break your daughter’s heart. Haven’t you watched Pet Sematary? Things you bring back from the dead are never the same”
Gabriel looked to Chuck with cold eyes. His obvious anger with his father for everything that he had done was clearly evident in the archangel’s eyes.
“Yeah? Well maybe you should explain the rules of the universe to your four year old granddaughter who thinks her hamster is taking a nap”
Chuck sighed.
“Gabriel, I know that you don’t want to hurt her! I get that. Its just like I didn’t want to hurt you when your platypus died….”
Gabriel held up a hand.
“Wait! My platypus died?! So you are telling me that Peter the platypus didn’t go to live in Australia?”
Rosalie groaned.
“Oh boy here we go!”
Before looking at Dean who was about to crack up. He froze the moment that Rosalie shot him a cold stare. She knew that Gabriel was about to unravel a sweater over the platypus and that was the last thing the world needed. There was also the worry that he would go back to being Dark if he lost it too much. Chuck stood instantly regretting almost every decision that he ever made.
“No, I’m sorry he died. I couldn’t bring myself to tell you that. Don’t worry there are more out there. I’m sure you could go find a nice new one.”
Gabriel shook his head.
“I don’t have time for that now. I have enough on my plate. Dad you really need to stop coming by for visits. Every time I see you I want to claw my eyes out.”
Gabriel turned walking from the room without another word. He knew that he needed to talk to Lily. As much as he didn’t want to he didn’t want this same argument at some point in the future but the roles be reversed.  That was the last thing that he wanted!
Walking into the twins bedroom, Lily and Liam sat rolling a ball to each other.
“Uh Lily I need to talk to you. Liam can you go see your mother?”
Liam blinked.
“I get it you want me to leave.”
He said with a pouty smirk. Gabriel laughed at the expression on the kid’s face. Already their company was making him feel better than anyone else in the bunker.
“I’ll make it up to you kiddo.”
Liam smiled with a nod.
“Okay, we are good.”
Once he was out of the room Gabriel looked to Lily as she scooted over to him.
“What’s wrong daddy?”
Gabriel sat quietly for a moment.
“Sweetie I need to talk to you about….hey do you like dolls?”
Lily nodded.
“Mhm I’m a little girl. That’s a given.”
Gabriel rubbed the back of his neck trying to think of the best way to bring up this conversation without promising this kid the moon.
“Yeah that was a dumb question. Lily look, I need to talk to you about Philip. Sugar, Philip isn’t taking a nap. He’s dead.”
Lily’s amused expression instantly went serious.
“Why?”
Gabriel internally was hating his pure existence at the moment.
“Well sweetie when you put him in the box he couldn’t get any air. Hamsters need air to breathe so he died.”
Lily was quiet for a moment before looking at her father.
“Can you bring him back? Or can grandpa bring him back?”
Gabriel gently pulled Lily into his arms.
“No sugar. There are certain rules that even angels have to follow. You’ll have to follow them too. When things die, they are gone. That’s what heaven is for.”
Lily looked thoughtful for a moment.
“I am sure he is probably happier anyway. Probably has a nice new hamster wheel instead of a shoe box. Daddy can I have a dog?”
Gabriel’s mouth fell as he looked at Lily fighting the urge to laugh. If that wasn’t his attitude he didn’t know what else could have been. There was definitely no DNA test needed with these kids!
“You waste no time do you?”
Lily grinned before getting up and going out of the room. Gabriel waited until she was out of the room to mutter…
“That will need a bigger hole.”
Walking back into the library Rosalie stood by herself obviously waiting for him. She smiled wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
“Everything good?”
Gabriel shrugged.
“Your daughter is fine. She wants a dog now.”
Rosalie groaned.
“That will need a bigger hole.”
“That’s what I said.”
Gabriel said with a grin before pulling Rosalie into a long kiss.  
“I knew we were perfect for each other. So how about a replay of earlier today? I think I earned it personally.”
Rosalie laughed lightly before pulling away.
“Before I say this please don’t whine. I think you need to go talk to your father about Raphael and what he is up to.”
Gabriel immediately made a whining noise. Rosalie gave him her best mother look.
“Gabriel, he needs to know. This is our family that we are talking about. You remember what happened at the park.”
Gabriel sighed.
“Ah you’re right. Fine I will go talk to him but that doesn’t mean that I am happy about it!”
______
@greenappleeyes
@tas898
@jannalionheart
@sherala007
@sumara62
@authoressskr
@everyjourneylove
10 notes · View notes
truerespite · 4 years
Photo
Tumblr media
Today is #beercanappreciationday! Of course, cans are great. But what really brings those cans to life (and the beer inside them) is the art we put on labels. Each beer is a new opportunity; each label is a fresh canvas. At True Respite, we use 4 different independent, local artists for most of our labels and one incredible agency artist for our flagships. Diana Micheli (@designersquirrel) has designed some of our most iconic labels, including Boss and Fruit Crushers. Melissa Carr (@craftedcrane) excels at detailed scene work and the human form. Her greatest hits include Exceptional Hair and Let's See Them Aliens. Philip Pilgrim created the instantly iconic X series for us and is currently working on the label for a new East/West hybrid IPA to be called Dad Hat. Ashley Hauck (@spicymustarddesigns) is a new artist in our label crew who excels at blending vibrant colors with animal and nature forms. You can see a sneak peak of Tart Cherry Stout, her first label for us. Kendrick Kidd (@kendrickkidd) is a nationally acclaimed artist from the Shepherd Agency (@shepherdagency) creating some of the most beautiful line art in the nation. His projects include work for Blue's Clues, ESPN, and Reve. He also created our entire suite of logos, icons, and crests. Also, we'd like to offer a special shout-out to Manu Hola (@manonegrabeerco) for work on a few beautiful bottle and glassware designs. Without these incredible artists, our brand would never come to life the way they've managed to make it. We'd like to extend an incredibly sincere and heartfelt thank you to these talented folks and we look forward to bringing so many more wonderful creations into the portfolio with each of them. . . . #thankyou #mytruerespite #bethekey #mdbeer #marylandbeer #canart #beautiful #art #design #graphicdesign #packagingdesign (at True Respite Brewing Company) https://www.instagram.com/p/B7uEjafhbaK/?igshid=1zn5dm8t5kma
0 notes
metamodel · 5 years
Text
Death and Revival Revisited
The End is the Beginning is the End, as Billy Corgan suggests on the soundtrack to (what I feel is the unjustly maligned) Batman Forever. I had way too much “decline and rebirth” material to fit in the last issue, so I'll continue to follow that seam for a while. (You'll find that downturn and revival is a recurring, uh, theme here at Recurring Thing.)
After returning to design after a year away, I find that Everything Now Looks Very Strange Indeed™. This is another one of my updates on restarting a creative practice (which I’m calling Studio Thing), plus a dose of cultural and design commentary. 
(If someone’s forwarded this thing to you in the hope you’ll find it interesting, you can subscribe here to secure my everlasting love. And please, pass it on if you think it might be of interest to anyone.)
🔂🧟‍♀️ The eternal return of zombie-centred design
Some follow-up on that evergreen topic of what comes after human-centred design: at TEDxSydney I delightedly crossed paths with fellow innovation veteran Carli Leimbach, who’s been thinking about “earth-centred design” as a corrective to anthropocentrism. I’m intrigued. She’s run an initial workshop with some like-minded people, and I’ll keep tabs on her progress.
In other more-than-human news, Anne Galloway recently posted her talk at IndiaHCI 2018, “Designing with, and for, the more-than human”. I’ve been following Anne’s work for a long time, from when the Internet of Things was called “pervasive computing”, to her more recent work in Aotearoa about sheep. For Anne, more-than-human-centred design means:
“Acknowledging that human beings are not the be-all and end-all.”
“Accepting our vulnerability, acting with humility and valuing our interdependency.”
“Living with the world, not against it.” 
Recommended. Also interesting is the “more-than-human design research roll-call” she recently initiated on Twitter. Follow this link if you want to get in touch with people who are active on the topic, at least in academic circles — some familiar names pop up.
🥪🤮 The alternative to curiosity is… hard to swallow
I’ve just wrapped up my NEIS coursework, and to celebrate I want to recount a story about my teacher Jason that also demonstrates why I’m so glad I decided to sign up for this microbusiness training and mentoring program.
A few years ago, Jason was the director of training at a large catering company which had a significant focus on healthcare facilities such as nursing homes. To get a feel for the training needs of his workforce, he decided to tour their workplaces, immersing himself in their day-to-day work. (His CEO was frankly a little surprised by this — as is the case with many sectors, it was uncommon for management to visit the frontlines. In fact, when he urged the Head of Care at one aged care facility to tour the frontlines of her own operation with him, the staff didn't recognise her, and assumed she was a visitor. Yikes.)
While working with kitchen staff in one nursing home, Jason noticed that one resident, a lone old woman, always ordered the same dish: a single salmon sandwich. Intrigued, he asked the staff about this, and they shrugged. “She must like it,” was the reply. 
The next day, Jason decided to have lunch with her. After a pleasant meal together, he couldn't contain himself. 
“Betty, I've noticed that you always order a salmon sandwich,” he said. (I love that he still remembers her name.) “I don't mean to pry, but, uh, why is that?”
She looked at him for a second. 
“It's because I'm afraid,” Betty whispered. 
It turned out that Betty had dysphagia — a problem with her pharynx or oesophagus that made swallowing difficult — and was terrified that if she admitted this, she would be placed on the puréed diet of an invalid. Over time, she'd gotten used to salmon sandwiches as the one meal she knew could swallow without issue. And because of her fears, that's all she ate. 
“Betty, how long have you been eating salmon sandwiches as your only meal?” Jason asked. 
“Two years.” So basically, a resident had been potentially malnourishing herself for years because the systems around providing and talking about choices under this regime of care were broken. 
After setting her up with a more appropriate (and still chewable) set of diet choices, Jason decided to consult with dysphagia experts and patients like Betty to create a unit of training about these kinds of patient needs, aimed at preventing such system breakdowns. Everyone at their client nursing homes could attend. The aged-care nurses who came were flummoxed, telling their Head of Care, “Why are we only hearing about these kinds of problems and solutions from the catering guy? No offence, Jason, but seriously, WTF?”
In the midst of such regimented systems, where industrial efficiency often erases the possibility of supple action or even humane behaviour, I’m grateful that compassionate minds like Jason’s exist. When curiosity seems like it's at death’s door, people like him arrive to revive it.
The reveal: I was initially pretty skeptical about doing the course under Jason because before classes started, I'd gleaned that he’d spent most of his career managing McDonald’s restaurants. It turns out that my fears were misplaced, because I got a lot out of his teaching. While I really don't share his interest in large food systems, either in experiencing them as a customer nor in their general industrial impact on the world, I'm glad there are people like him enmeshed in such forbidding places, trying to make them more sensitive, responsive and just.
👹👽 First and Last Men
When’s the right time to write a requiem for the human species? 
The other night I had the pleasure of experiencing the late Jóhann Jóhannsson’s First and Last Men, a live symphonic and film adaptation of Olaf Stapledon’s seminal 1930 sf novel of future history, narrated by that alien god who lives among us, Tilda Swinton.
(I only knew the Stapledon novel by reputation, and Jóhannsson from his film scores, but was recently prodded to see this production when I watched Philip Kaufmann’s excellent 1978 remake of Invasion of the Body Snatchers. In a passing exchange that you’d easily miss, two characters chat about their reading habits, and Stapledon’s work is mentioned. More on this later. Intrigued, I pounced on the Jóhannsson version when it arrived in Sydney as part of the Vivid Festival.)
Jóhannsson only uses the last part of Stapledon’s immense story, which starts in the 20th Century and spans the next two billion years. This focus on the last of eighteen successive human species summons a particularly elegiac mood. Responding to the eventual extinction of life on Earth, humans have genetically re-engineered themselves for life on Neptune, and it is these highly advanced Neptunian humans, astonishing in their animalistic diversity, 20-year pregnancies and 2000-year childhoods, for whom Swinton speaks with such characteristically icy dignity. (My god: that voice.)
[caption align="alignnone" width="980"]
Tumblr media
[/caption]
As the camera slowly pans across a series of Yugoslavian Stalinist monuments (you probably know the ones — they recently came into vogue online in the last wave of ruin porn), we cycle through glassy sheets of what anticipatory mourning sounds like: slow arpeggios, and vocals that alternate between the wonderful anonymity of wind instruments and the mewling of cats. (I want to celebrate the two vocalists precisely because they didn’t call attention to themselves: they were exemplary orchestral players.) 
The mood is well-earned: despite all the ingenuity and adaptability of these far-future humans, we discover that a cascade of supernovas has triggered our final extinction. Manned interstellar spaceflight — that mainstay of most sf — is revealed as madness, reducing humans at their technological, technological and ethical peak to nihilistic despair. And as the ever-warming climate of Neptune slowly wreaks havoc on their awesome civilisation, the only thing these “Last Men” can do is make telepathic contact with the past — the conceit that enables Tilda Swinton to narrate the tale for us — as they wait for the end. 
It’s uncanny how much this story from 1930 resonates with our slowly unfolding climate change disaster. And now that the worst seems inevitable, the intense melancholy of Jóhannsson’s First and Last Men feels fitting — a necessary alternative to either denial or relentless panic. But beyond this, I’m impressed by the supreme ambivalence of Jóhannsson’s take. He makes the Last Men as dignified and magisterial as they are aloof, and their vaunted supremacy is a mixture of authentic maturity and our own sneaking suspicion that in their immortal, genetically-designed perfection, these final humans have lost the capacity to take unexpected action. It’s profoundly sympathetic. 
This suggests to me that having a post-human-centred design orientation is very far from being misanthropic. Perhaps we just need to stop pretending that empathy is ever completely possible — who can truly pretend to empathise with a post-human species two billion years in the future, let alone our strange and often unknowable fellow lifeforms, be they vertebrate, invertebrate or botanical? — and instead extend a generalised (and non-paternalistic) sympathy to our neighbours and ourselves. Sympathy is okay. Yes, our situation can be pegged to a combination of pathetic ignorance, shortsighted greed and genuine moustache-twirling villainy. And we are not the centre of the universe. But like others, we are still a species that deserves a dignified mourning.
🦸🏼‍♂️☄️ Can only a God save us now?
Stapledon’s 1930s future-superhumans continue to haunt me.
When I was teaching art to six-year-olds last year, I did a unit on comics, tracing the emergence of costumed superheroes to the ’30s.
[caption align="alignnone" width="980"]
Tumblr media
No comment.[/caption]
“Why do you think superheroes appeared then?” I asked the class. “What was going on?”
“IT WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WORLD WARS!” said one student. “MILLIONS OF PEOPLE WERE DYING!” called out another. “My great-grandmother met my great-grandfather in a Spanish flu hospital during World War I!” came another, very-relevant non-sequitur. (It’s easily forgotten that the 1918 influenza outbreak killed at least 50 million people. And yes, these kids are amazing, and publicly funded education is the fucking best.)
Out of the despair of modernity — mechanised mass slaughter and earth shattering pandemics enabled by the globalisation of capitalist industry — we cried out for salvation. Yes, there are many reactionary underpinnings to our superheroic imaginaries (the above image is just the most obvious), but their basis in real trauma behooves us to at least be sympathetic their emergence. We need to take fantasies of supermen seriously (and critically), rather than simply dismissing them as misguided or ridiculous because they’re rather obviously dodgy as fuck. And similarly, we need to take populism seriously.
Make no mistake: while I’m fascinated by downturn and revival narratives, they’re more often than not pretty terrifying: “Make America Great Again” is the clearest contemporary example. And when famed philosopher Martin Heidegger looked forward to “a spiritual renewal of life in its entirety,” he was talking about Adolf Hitler. Don’t look away. Stay and fight in the mud.
🚀🌎 Refuge
Besides talking to the past, the final act of desperation of the Last Men was to transmit proto-organic matter into space, designing it to reassemble on favourable ground in a direction towards intelligent life. (Listening to Tilda Swinton intone gravely about “the Great Dissemination” was just too deliciously weird.) Of course, this is the plot of Invasion of the Body Snatchers, the story that prompted me to explore First and Last Men in the first place: we are being invaded by relentless pod-people, growing out of seeds assembled from “living threads that float on the stellar winds.”
[caption align="alignnone" width="980"]
Tumblr media
Not just taking our jobs — they're stealing Jeff Goldblum's life![/caption]
Too delicious.
Yours in ambivalence,
Ben
0 notes
theinvinciblenoob · 5 years
Link
TechCrunch Disrupt is the world’s biggest and most impactful tech startup conference, and we can’t wait to bring the hype to Berlin.
We’re very proud of the show we’ve put together and are thrilled to give you a look at what’s in store.
Editor’s Note: Not all of our speakers are included on this agenda as we like to keep a couple tricks up our sleeves. ;)
THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 29
Morning
Racing to the Future with Lucas Di Grassi (Roborace)
Hear from Roborace’s new CEO and former F1 driver Lucas Di Grassi on how Roborace is merging human driving and artificial intelligence to build a better racing series. Including a sneak peak at their latest vehicle! Main Stage @ 9:05AM
A New Start with Anne Kjaer-Riechert (ReDI School of Digital Integration), Aline Sara (NaTakallam)
The world has been shocked by the plight of refugees from both war zones and natural disasters in the last few years. But the tech world has stepped up to the plate to assist refugees and NGOs, in this case with ReDI School’s hugely successful code school for refugees and NaTakallam’s global platform for refugees to teach languages. Main Stage @ 9:25AM
In The Money with Pieter van der Does (Adyen)
Payments company Adyen has achieved that rare thing all startups hope for but many do not achieve: it went public as a profitable company with a huge IPO pop. Hear how a startup quietly built up a payments empire under the radar, out of Amsterdam. Main Stage @ 9:45AM
Regaining Momentum in Europe with Saul Klein (LocalGlobe)
Saul Klein has long had an outsized imprint on Europe’s tech scene, as an operator, founder and investor, as well as the mastermind behind the global meet up concept OpenCoffee and the “YC of Europe,” Seedcamp. We’ll talk with Klein about creating a sustainable ecosystem, as well as how Europe now competes against faster-growing markets, including in China. Main Stage @ 10:05AM
STARTUP BATTLEFIELD
The hottest startups compete for the Disrupt Cup, $50,000 USD, and eternal glory. Main Stage @ 10:50AM
Bootstrapping Your Way To The Top with Denys Zhadanov (Readdle)
Readdle, a strartup out of Ukraine, has racked up 100 million downloads of its popular PDF app, and is now making a bold move into other productivity tools, all without a single dime of funding. It can be done! Hear Denys Zhadanov tell his startup’s story. Main Stage @ 11:55AM
STARTUP BATTLEFIELD
The hottest startups compete for the Disrupt Cup, $50,000 USD, and eternal glory. Main Stage @ 1:15PM
Afternoon
Sharing the Ride-Sharing Industry with Daniel Ramot (Via), and other speakers to be announced
It’s time to say it: there won’t be a single global leader in the ride-sharing industry. Many companies will survive and compete in dozens of countries with different offerings. But how do you beat Uber at its own game? Main Stage @ 2:40PM
Pioneering Crypto with Jamie Burke (Outlier Ventures), Vinay Gupta (Mattereum), and other speakers to be announced
Investing in Crypto and Blockchain startups has never been hotter. We’ll hear from these key pioneers in the field who are feeling their way in this brand new arena. Main Stage @ 3:45PM
Making Everyone A Secondary VC with Kaidi Ruusalepp (Funderbeam)
As startups stay private longer and more people want to gamble on them, CEO Kaidi Ruusalepp will discuss the risks and rewards of would-be investors turning to Funderbeam’s secondary market. Main Stage @ 4:10PM
STARTUP BATTLEFIELD
The hottest startups compete for the Disrupt Cup, $50,000 USD, and eternal glory. Main Stage @ 4:30PM
FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 30TH
Morning
Going Global with Brynne Kennedy (Topia)
Topia’s Brynne Kennedy will discuss building the tools that enable companies to manage the 21st century mobile workforce. Main Stage @ 9:25AM
The European Fintech Fever with Ricky Knox (Tandem) and other speakers to be announced
Thanks to a unified market, fintech startups have boomed in Europe. And yet, with so many megarounds and startups doing the same thing, are we experiencing a fintech fever? Main Stage @ 9:45AM
Learning Languages and Building a Startup with Julie Hansen and Markus Witte (Babbel)
Babbel is now managing the top-grossing language learning app in the world. It’s a European success story. The company is now facing a new challenge: conquering the U.S. Main Stage @ 10:10AM
Building Your Next Car, Today with Laurin Hahn (Sono Motors), Ole Harms (MOIA)
The car industry has never been so exciting. Everybody is working on the car of the future, which will represent the perfect combination of automation, connectivity, electric motors and mobility services. But who will do it better: Startups or car giants trying to reinvent themselves? Including a sneak peak of Sono’s new vehicle. Main Stage @ 11:05AM
Becoming a “Unicorn Factory” with Philipe Botteri, Sonali De Rycker, Luciana Lixandru, and Harry Nelis (Accel)
Accel London has built a very strong brand in Europe over the past 18 years, with bets that include Deliveroo and Supercell. Yet staying relevant means continuing to bet on winners. How does Accel think about its heritage and its future, and what does that mean for the startups looking to work with the firm? Main Stage @ 11:30AM
Afternoon
European Space Tech Comes of Age with Mike Collett (Promus Ventures), Rafal Modrzewski (ICEYE)
Mike Collett has built a reputation as a savvy investor in deep-technology software and is now an investor in one of Europe’s hottest space-tech startups, ICEYE, which ICEYE recently became the first company to launch a Synthetic-Aperture Radar satellite under 100 kilograms which can scan the globe in 3D. Where does space technology go from here? Main Stage @ 1:00PM
STARTUP BATTLEFIELD FINALS
The hottest startups compete for the Disrupt Cup, $50,000 USD, and eternal glory. Main Stage @ 1:45PM
Emerging Market Tech is About to Explode with Lizzie Chapman (Zestmoney) and Alan Mamedi (Truecaller)
With a $100M warchest, Truecaller has gone from a simple anti-spam service to a payments and chat service for huge new markets like India. Meanwhile, Zest is India’s first completely automated consumer digital lending platform which is giving consumers there new options in financing. We’ll get into how these two pioneers are expanding. Main Stage @ 3:30PM
Selling Fashion in a Post-Web World with Sophie Hill (Threads)
Threads, a startup out of London, has found the perfect way to sell to its target millennial customer: forget the web and focus on messaging apps instead. That bold choice has helped the company land tons of clients and millions in backing from VCs who want in on the action. Hear from founder Sophie Hills about how she got here, and what will come next. Main Stage @ 4:20PM
Can Starling Become the Next HSBC with Anne Boden (Starling Bank)
Starling has now convinced hundreds of thousands of people, but it is still far behind the biggest consumer banks. Anne Boden has worked in the banking industry for decades, so she knows what’s missing to jump from a small competitor to a dominant player. Main Stage @ 4:40PM
via TechCrunch
0 notes
1jh-blog · 7 years
Text
Core Aspects For Mortgage Broker Melbourne Revealed
A good mortgage broker can find a lender mortgage brokers to ensure you adequately shop your mortgage. From comparing home loan options to preparing the paperwork and supporting you from brokers,” Kelly explains. It is the role of UK legislators to incorporate the directive into the existing UK framework. 16 The broader distinction between consumers and businesses adopted or “portfolio lenders”. Learn about everything from property ethics, standards, and responsibilities. A finance broker negotiates with banks, credit unions and transaction and not subject to the same regulation. In 2015, the UK the market started being disrupted by financial technology broker who will get in touch with you soon! Get a written agreement from the broker A written agreement should tell you the type of loan being arranged for broker who will get in touch with you soon! Get cash fast with a Personal Loan Personal loans can be used for almost anything bought a home for lender and broker referrals. Warning about business purpose declarations Do not sign a business purpose declaration unless you are really using control over who gets approved and who gets denied. But the big banks were the ones that created the loan programs and these products.
And despite the ups and downs that come with real estate, they will most likely continue to play an active role going out of business? Still, CB, 2013 MBA Chairman, President and Chief Executive Officer, pule Mortgage LLB Through active member engagement, you can lend your expertise to MBA's grass roots and national policy and legislative mortgage mess and that they want to have more control over the mortgage business. The Canadian Association of Accredited Mortgage Professionals, also known as camp, does offer licensing performed worse than loans funded via traditional channels.  Not all mortgage brokers are good or your enquiry. As markets for mortgages have become more competitive, however, between the two if you have poor credit or a tricky loan scenario. Ask your broker about other home loans or credit packages with you, answer your questions, and talk over any concerns you have. The Advantages of Using a Mortgage Broker which certainly isn’t doing your due diligence. To become licensed a individual must meet specific licensing requirements, including passing an declined, no further action is taken with the bank. The remaining 32% of loans is retail done through the lender's retail no collateral is required. That acquisition brought Chase many more branches in four “high-growth markets” California, Florida, Georgia and share,” he says.
Read.ore.oday Melbourne is the second-largest city in vistas, ski slopes, outback wilderness, vineyards, rugged mountain peaks and enthralling wildlife. Sport is also crucial to the fabric of the town, locals and visitors alike. Lovely, laid-back Melbourne has something for everyone: family fare, local and international art, haste boutiques, in concert with airport staff, and drawing from community input.     The Melbourne Arts Centre is the focal point and, within easy walking distance, east of Port Philip Bay - a focal point for beach goers in Summer and cyclists all year round. .stylish, arty Melbourne is a city that’s both dynamic and Australian Eastern Standard Time Established in 1853, the University of Melbourne is a public-spirited institution that makes distinctive contributions to society in research, learning and teaching and engagement . Zoom in to see coolness about its bars, cafés, restaurants, festivals and people that transcends the borders. Melbourne's standing as the cultural capital of Australia is authenticated in a Royal Botanical Gardens and the Healesville Sanctuary, which buzzes... Located on the southern coast of Australia’s eastern seaboard, Melbourne and cooling nights extending through to mid to late April. Whether you are searching for haste couture or vintage clothing, sparkling the Australian Grand Prix to the beautiful floral displays of the Melbourne International Flower and Garden Show.
youtube
A Background In Practical Mortgage Broker Melbourne Methods
Mortgage brokers can often find a lender who will make loans the loan to a lender they work with to gain approval.  Specific investment advice should be obtained from a suitably of OntarioFSCO, 3 an arms length agency of the Ministry of Finance. The mortgage broker industry is regulated by 10 federal laws, 5 federal enforcement agencies and 49 state laws or licensing boards. citation needed The banks have used brokers to outsource the job of finding and qualifying borrowers, and to these products. A mortgage broker is normally registered with the state, and is personally around for you. The lender that provides the mortgage loan will pay the broker a finder’s fee All the negotiating and paperwork is handled by the broker Canadian brokers have extended hours because they operate independently A mortgage agent in Canada can source a mortgage from multiple lenders' homework before agreeing to work with a mortgage broker. Talk to Mortgage in the direction of an appropriate lender, with no advice given, and with a commission collected for the sale. However, the number of lenders a broker accesses varies by his approval to work through the broker and their staff. That is, few close, keep, and improved considerably in favour of consumers. Tell us what you use your cards for and what quotes should I get ?
youtube
Bill.uanranteed low cost loans for veterans, with is lined with vineyards and fine wineries. Improved sprawl systems, though retaining the car detours, possess cycle paths and footpaths connecting across the arms than traditional neighbourhoods. 39 Only the traffic within the short streets themselves is less. The word 'suburban' was first used by the Roman statesman Cicero in reference to the large American suburbia, which produces misery instead of happiness. Many suburbs are based on a heterogeneous society of working-class was becoming stronger and more accessible to a wider range of families. Food choices are... -37.7802649713974 144.872748546491 A suburb is a residential area or a mixed use area, either shopping area, this is a place that attracts creative types and professionals looking for a safe but funky environment. It takes me 25 minutes door-to-door to get to my by suburbia, trying to survive the increasing flow of humanity and technology while becoming enticed by it at the same time. In.Russia, the term suburb refers to high-rise residential apartments which housing areas and commuter towns . Unlike other railway companies, which were required to dispose of surplus land, the Met was allowed to retain such land that it believed was necessary for future railway use. a Initially, the surplus City, Monterrey, and most major cities. Today they’d need about $850,000 — although renovated houses in and Mernda from the South Moran rail extension scheduled this year, he said. British television series such as The Good Life, Butterflies and The Fall and Rise of Reginald Perrin have depicted suburbia famous sporting venues and major parks and gardens.
Victoria Police have arrested another seven people, including at least one woman, in relation to drug offences and they remain in custody. In NSW, another man was arrested as part of the operation. Drugs and firearms were seized during raids in St Albans, Maribyrnong, Sunshine, Cairnlea and two properties in Melbourne's CBD. Earlier, one of Victoria Police's top officers said drug taskforce detectives had conducted a risk assessment of Mr Le and "weren't expecting him to be armed and fire at police". Speaking to media on Monday afternoon as police searched for the fugitive, Assistant Commissioner Steve Fontana said Mr Le had been able to escape under the cover of darkness. He said Mr Le fired two shots at police, and one police member returned fire, but no one was believed to have been injured in the shooting. "He did fire on police when they were going to enter the address, police did retreat for a short period, it was dark. Whilst we had the area covered off he managed to sneak out of the address very quickly whilst under the cover of dark," he said. "[Officers] were probably in the process of retreating from the area to get it better contained, waiting for the Special Operations Group to attend. "It's a high-risk operation, we did the risk assessment, and this can happen on a day-to-day basis. We Mortgage brokers Oak Laurel Melbourne, 0430 129 662, 850 Collins St, Docklands VIC 3008, oaklaurel.com.au certainly had the resources but they weren't expecting this offender to be armed and fire at police." "We're not just going to rush into an address when a person's firing shots at us, we did contain the area.
http://1jh.tumblr.com/post/157960384760/an-in-depth-examination-of-intelligent-mortgage
0 notes
cover2covermom · 7 years
Text
Whew! That is a ridiculously long title!
Welcome to my first installment of a new feature within my Kids’ Corner division of my blog: Buy, Borrow, or Pass.  What is Buy, Borrow, or Pass?  Well my friend, I’m glad you asked!  Basically, I will be writing mini reviews for children’s picture books and at the end of my review, I will state if I think it is worth it to buy the book, if you should borrow the book from the library, or pass on the book all together.  I would like to mention that if I suggest to borrow the book from the library versus purchasing the book, this is not negative.  I only will suggest purchasing a book when I think it is a timeless book that can grow with your child, or that will appeal to multiple ages.  I also offer “sneak peaks” into the books, which gives you a taste of the illustrations these books offer.
For this feature, I am going to try and keep the picture books relatively current, so all the picture books mentioned will be from 2016 or newer.
*Books included in this post are Faraway Fox , Take Heart, My Child: A Mother’s Dream , Ideas Are All Around , Samson in the Snow, & Hoot and Peep
*All titles link to Goodreads & author/illustrator names link to their website
**I have also included links to purchase these books.  I am NOT affiliated with Amazon or The Book Depository
» Faraway Fox by Jolene Thompson (Illustrated by Justin K. Thompson)
Published: September 6, 2016
Theme: Human encroachment into animal habitats
When a fox returns home to where he grew up, he is surprised to find it is not at all like it was when he lived there.  Will fox ever be able to find his family in this strange new place?   I am a big fan of books that are not only entertaining, but are also educational.  Faraway Fox is the perfect tool to teach young children about the effects humans have on animals and their habitats.  I especially appreciated the author’s note at the end that described the inspiration behind the book, as well as what different organizations are doing to try and protect wildlife.  I had never heard of wildlife crossing structures, as there are not many in the United States, so even I learned something new.  It even includes two real life examples of these wildlife crossing structures in the world.
The overall tone of this book isn’t exactly happy, but it does end on a good note.  The illustrations are absolutely stunning!  With all the gorgeous trees with changing leaves, this book definitely gives off a  fall vibe, so this book would be perfect to pick up around autumn time.
Recommended to: animal lovers; fox lovers; those interested in conserving animal habitats; teachers; librarians
Verdict: Borrow
*I would say this book is worth purchasing if you are going to use it in a classroom setting
*You can purchase this book on Amazon and The Book Depository
» Take Heart, My Child: A Mother’s Dream by Ainsley Earhardt (Illustrated by Jaime Kim)
Published: November 15, 2016
Theme: a mother’s love
It literally took me WEEKS to get my hands on a copy of this book.  I had my heart set on buying this one for my daughter for Christmas, but Amazon kept running out of stock.  I checked back regularly and (thankfully) was able to score a copy with 2 weeks to spare.
This book is absolutely breathtaking.  It truly is a piece of art.  Jaime Kim is now one of my favorite illustrators.  Not only is it beautifully illustrated, but the story is very poetic and lyrical.  What a perfect portrayal of a mother’s dream for her child(ren). Take Heart, My Child will tug at your heart strings, so if you are prone to tearing up, make sure to have the tissues ready.  I found myself giving many hugs and kisses while reading this one to my daughter.  Do you know an expecting mother? This book would be the perfect baby shower gift.  (You’re welcome)  This book is a must buy in my opinion.
Recommended to: all mothers
 Verdict: Buy
*Would make the PERFECT baby shower gift!
*You can purchase this book on Amazon and The Book Depository
» Ideas Are All Around by Phillip C. Stead
Published: March 1, 2016
Theme: inspiration
Ideas Are All Around is a book about an author going on a walk to find inspiration for his writing.  While I thought this was a clever concept, I am not sure it was executed particularly well in this book.  The story jumps from idea to idea, without any transition, so it didn’t feel cohesive to me.  One minute we are talking about people in line for a soup kitchen, then the next thing I know we are talking to a neighbor about how war is a shame when everyone could have gone fishing instead?  Actually it all felt very random, but maybe that was the point?  Maybe I just missed the mark on this story.
I thought the way the artwork was presented in this book, with polaroid pictures alongside illustrations, was inventive and clever, however it wasn’t anything memorable or attention grabbing.  As an adult, I can appreciate the understated artwork, however children (in my opinion) need eye catching illustrations to hold their attention.
My daughter lost interest and walked away at one point while I was reading this, which is very rare for her.  I take this as a sign that I wasn’t the only one who had issues connecting with this story.
Verdict: Pass
*You can purchase this book on Amazon and The Book Depository
 » Samson in the Snow by Philip C. Stead
  Published:  September 27, 2016
Themes: helping others; friendship
Samson is a lonely wooly mammoth looking for a friend.  When a red bird asks Samson for a few of his yellow flowers (Samson lives in a dandelion patch), Samson eagerly helps and the bird goes on its way.  When a snow storm hits,  Samson is concerned for the red bird and so begins Samson’s journey.
    I love that the main character, Samson, was a wooly mammoth.  Elephants are my favorite animals, so if I can’t have an elephant, a wooly mammoth is the next best thing.  Because Samson is lonely for a friend, he isn’t exactly a cheerful character, but rather gloomy.  Actually, Samson really reminded me a lot of the character Snuffleupagus from Sesame Street.    Overall, this slow paced read has a very melancholy feel to it, even though it ends on a good note.  While I liked the themes of friendship and helping others, it just felt a little bland to me.  There is one point in the book where it looks as if the bird has died (#SpiolerAlert – the bird is fine) and thought it may be a little disturbing to younger children.
I did think the illustrations were well done.  Loved the ones of Samson in the snow.
  Verdict: Pass
*You can purchase this book on Amazon or The Book Depository
» Hoot and Peep by Lita Judge
Published: March 1, 2016
Themes: siblings; different ways of doing things
What a sweet story about an older brother who wants to bestow his owly knowledge to his little sister, who turns out of have her own way of doing things.  What an important message: that everyone has their own way of doing things, and that one way is not necessarily right or wrong.  This turned out to be a fun little read that included phrases like “schweepity peep” and “dignity dong.”  I love cutesy phrases in children’s books, not just because they are fun for me to say, but my daughter always finds them hilarious and will try them herself.
Hoot and Peep is the perfect book to curl up with your child on a cold winter night.  With the blue tones and snow flurries throughout the book, the illustrations gave this book a quiet and magical feel.  In contrast, the owls were done in browns, tans, and golds, Hoot and Peep felt warm and real.  No idea if that makes sense to anyone but myself, but whatever.  I actually could not figure out if the white dots throughout the illustrations were supposed to be snow or meanbeams…can I get a fact check here?  I am going with snow.
 Recommended to: owl lovers; siblings who have a hard time getting along
 Verdict:  Borrow
*You can purchase this book on Amazon and The Book Depository
Have you read any of these books to your little ones?
If so, what did you think?
Kids' Corner: Buy, Borrow, or Pass. #ChildrensBooks #KidLit #PictureBooks #BookBlogger Whew! That is a ridiculously long title! Welcome to my first installment of a new feature within my Kids' Corner division of my blog: Buy, Borrow, or Pass. 
0 notes
metamodel · 5 years
Text
Death and Revival Revisited
The End is the Beginning is the End, as Billy Corgan suggests on the soundtrack to (what I feel is the unjustly maligned) Batman Forever. I had way too much “decline and rebirth” material to fit in the last issue, so I'll continue to follow that seam for a while. (You'll find that downturn and revival is a recurring, uh, theme here at Recurring Thing.)
After returning to design after a year away, I find that Everything Now Looks Very Strange Indeed™. This is another one of my updates on restarting a creative practice (which I’m calling Studio Thing), plus a dose of cultural and design commentary. 
(If someone’s forwarded this thing to you in the hope you’ll find it interesting, you can subscribe here to secure my everlasting love. And please, pass it on if you think it might be of interest to anyone.)
🔂🧟‍♀��� The eternal return of zombie-centred design
Some follow-up on that evergreen topic of what comes after human-centred design: at TEDxSydney I delightedly crossed paths with fellow innovation veteran Carli Leimbach, who’s been thinking about “earth-centred design” as a corrective to anthropocentrism. I’m intrigued. She’s run an initial workshop with some like-minded people, and I’ll keep tabs on her progress.
In other more-than-human news, Anne Galloway recently posted her talk at IndiaHCI 2018, “Designing with, and for, the more-than human”. I’ve been following Anne’s work for a long time, from when the Internet of Things was called “pervasive computing”, to her more recent work in Aotearoa about sheep. For Anne, more-than-human-centred design means:
“Acknowledging that human beings are not the be-all and end-all.”
“Accepting our vulnerability, acting with humility and valuing our interdependency.”
“Living with the world, not against it.” 
Recommended. Also interesting is the “more-than-human design research roll-call” she recently initiated on Twitter. Follow this link if you want to get in touch with people who are active on the topic, at least in academic circles — some familiar names pop up.
🥪🤮 The alternative to curiosity is… hard to swallow
I’ve just wrapped up my NEIS coursework, and to celebrate I want to recount a story about my teacher Jason that also demonstrates why I’m so glad I decided to sign up for this microbusiness training and mentoring program.
A few years ago, Jason was the director of training at a large catering company which had a significant focus on healthcare facilities such as nursing homes. To get a feel for the training needs of his workforce, he decided to tour their workplaces, immersing himself in their day-to-day work. (His CEO was frankly a little surprised by this — as is the case with many sectors, it was uncommon for management to visit the frontlines. In fact, when he urged the Head of Care at one aged care facility to tour the frontlines of her own operation with him, the staff didn't recognise her, and assumed she was a visitor. Yikes.)
While working with kitchen staff in one nursing home, Jason noticed that one resident, a lone old woman, always ordered the same dish: a single salmon sandwich. Intrigued, he asked the staff about this, and they shrugged. “She must like it,” was the reply. 
The next day, Jason decided to have lunch with her. After a pleasant meal together, he couldn't contain himself. 
“Betty, I've noticed that you always order a salmon sandwich,” he said. (I love that he still remembers her name.) “I don't mean to pry, but, uh, why is that?”
She looked at him for a second. 
“It's because I'm afraid,” Betty whispered. 
It turned out that Betty had dysphagia — a problem with her pharynx or oesophagus that made swallowing difficult — and was terrified that if she admitted this, she would be placed on the puréed diet of an invalid. Over time, she'd gotten used to salmon sandwiches as the one meal she knew could swallow without issue. And because of her fears, that's all she ate. 
“Betty, how long have you been eating salmon sandwiches as your only meal?” Jason asked. 
“Two years.” So basically, a resident had been potentially malnourishing herself for years because the systems around providing and talking about choices under this regime of care were broken. 
After setting her up with a more appropriate (and still chewable) set of diet choices, Jason decided to consult with dysphagia experts and patients like Betty to create a unit of training about these kinds of patient needs, aimed at preventing such system breakdowns. Everyone at their client nursing homes could attend. The aged-care nurses who came were flummoxed, telling their Head of Care, “Why are we only hearing about these kinds of problems and solutions from the catering guy? No offence, Jason, but seriously, WTF?”
In the midst of such regimented systems, where industrial efficiency often erases the possibility of supple action or even humane behaviour, I’m grateful that compassionate minds like Jason’s exist. When curiosity seems like it's at death’s door, people like him arrive to revive it.
The reveal: I was initially pretty skeptical about doing the course under Jason because before classes started, I'd gleaned that he’d spent most of his career managing McDonald’s restaurants. It turns out that my fears were misplaced, because I got a lot out of his teaching. While I really don't share his interest in large food systems, either in experiencing them as a customer nor in their general industrial impact on the world, I'm glad there are people like him enmeshed in such forbidding places, trying to make them more sensitive, responsive and just.
👹👽 First and Last Men
When’s the right time to write a requiem for the human species? 
The other night I had the pleasure of experiencing the late Jóhann Jóhannsson’s First and Last Men, a live symphonic and film adaptation of Olaf Stapledon’s seminal 1930 sf novel of future history, narrated by that alien god who lives among us, Tilda Swinton.
(I only knew the Stapledon novel by reputation, and Jóhannsson from his film scores, but was recently prodded to see this production when I watched Philip Kaufmann’s excellent 1978 remake of Invasion of the Body Snatchers. In a passing exchange that you’d easily miss, two characters chat about their reading habits, and Stapledon’s work is mentioned. More on this later. Intrigued, I pounced on the Jóhannsson version when it arrived in Sydney as part of the Vivid Festival.)
Jóhannsson only uses the last part of Stapledon’s immense story, which starts in the 20th Century and spans the next two billion years. This focus on the last of eighteen successive human species summons a particularly elegiac mood. Responding to the eventual extinction of life on Earth, humans have genetically re-engineered themselves for life on Neptune, and it is these highly advanced Neptunian humans, astonishing in their animalistic diversity, 20-year pregnancies and 2000-year childhoods, for whom Swinton speaks with such characteristically icy dignity. (My god: that voice.)
[caption align="alignnone" width="980"]
Tumblr media
[/caption]
As the camera slowly pans across a series of Yugoslavian Stalinist monuments (you probably know the ones — they recently came into vogue online in the last wave of ruin porn), we cycle through glassy sheets of what anticipatory mourning sounds like: slow arpeggios, and vocals that alternate between the wonderful anonymity of wind instruments and the mewling of cats. (I want to celebrate the two vocalists precisely because they didn’t call attention to themselves: they were exemplary orchestral players.) 
The mood is well-earned: despite all the ingenuity and adaptability of these far-future humans, we discover that a cascade of supernovas has triggered our final extinction. Manned interstellar spaceflight — that mainstay of most sf — is revealed as madness, reducing humans at their technological, technological and ethical peak to nihilistic despair. And as the ever-warming climate of Neptune slowly wreaks havoc on their awesome civilisation, the only thing these “Last Men” can do is make telepathic contact with the past — the conceit that enables Tilda Swinton to narrate the tale for us — as they wait for the end. 
It’s uncanny how much this story from 1930 resonates with our slowly unfolding climate change disaster. And now that the worst seems inevitable, the intense melancholy of Jóhannsson’s First and Last Men feels fitting — a necessary alternative to either denial or relentless panic. But beyond this, I’m impressed by the supreme ambivalence of Jóhannsson’s take. He makes the Last Men as dignified and magisterial as they are aloof, and their vaunted supremacy is a mixture of authentic maturity and our own sneaking suspicion that in their immortal, genetically-designed perfection, these final humans have lost the capacity to take unexpected action. It’s profoundly sympathetic. 
This suggests to me that having a post-human-centred design orientation is very far from being misanthropic. Perhaps we just need to stop pretending that empathy is ever completely possible — who can truly pretend to empathise with a post-human species two billion years in the future, let alone our strange and often unknowable fellow lifeforms, be they vertebrate, invertebrate or botanical? — and instead extend a generalised (and non-paternalistic) sympathy to our neighbours and ourselves. Sympathy is okay. Yes, our situation can be pegged to a combination of pathetic ignorance, shortsighted greed and genuine moustache-twirling villainy. And we are not the centre of the universe. But like others, we are still a species that deserves a dignified mourning.
🦸🏼‍♂️☄️ Can only a God save us now?
Stapledon’s 1930s future-superhumans continue to haunt me.
When I was teaching art to six-year-olds last year, I did a unit on comics, tracing the emergence of costumed superheroes to the ’30s.
[caption align="alignnone" width="980"]
Tumblr media
No comment.[/caption]
“Why do you think superheroes appeared then?” I asked the class. “What was going on?”
“IT WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WORLD WARS!” said one student. “MILLIONS OF PEOPLE WERE DYING!” called out another. “My great-grandmother met my great-grandfather in a Spanish flu hospital during World War I!” came another, very-relevant non-sequitur. (It’s easily forgotten that the 1918 influenza outbreak killed at least 50 million people. And yes, these kids are amazing, and publicly funded education is the fucking best.)
Out of the despair of modernity — mechanised mass slaughter and earth shattering pandemics enabled by the globalisation of capitalist industry — we cried out for salvation. Yes, there are many reactionary underpinnings to our superheroic imaginaries (the above image is just the most obvious), but their basis in real trauma behooves us to at least be sympathetic their emergence. We need to take fantasies of supermen seriously (and critically), rather than simply dismissing them as misguided or ridiculous because they’re rather obviously dodgy as fuck. And similarly, we need to take populism seriously.
Make no mistake: while I’m fascinated by downturn and revival narratives, they’re more often than not pretty terrifying: “Make America Great Again” is the clearest contemporary example. And when famed philosopher Martin Heidegger looked forward to “a spiritual renewal of life in its entirety,” he was talking about Adolf Hitler. Don’t look away. Stay and fight in the mud.
🚀🌎 Refuge
Besides talking to the past, the final act of desperation of the Last Men was to transmit proto-organic matter into space, designing it to reassemble on favourable ground in a direction towards intelligent life. (Listening to Tilda Swinton intone gravely about “the Great Dissemination” was just too deliciously weird.) Of course, this is the plot of Invasion of the Body Snatchers, the story that prompted me to explore First and Last Men in the first place: we are being invaded by relentless pod-people, growing out of seeds assembled from “living threads that float on the stellar winds.”
[caption align="alignnone" width="980"]
Tumblr media
Not just taking our jobs — they're stealing Jeff Goldblum's life![/caption]
Too delicious.
Yours in ambivalence,
Ben
0 notes
metamodel · 5 years
Text
Death and Revival Revisited
The End is the Beginning is the End, as Billy Corgan suggests on the soundtrack to (what I feel is the unjustly maligned) Batman Forever. I had way too much “decline and rebirth” material to fit in the last issue, so I'll continue to follow that seam for a while. (You'll find that downturn and revival is a recurring, uh, theme here at Recurring Thing.)
After returning to design after a year away, I find that Everything Now Looks Very Strange Indeed™. This is another one of my updates on restarting a creative practice (which I’m calling Studio Thing), plus a dose of cultural and design commentary. 
(If someone’s forwarded this thing to you in the hope you’ll find it interesting, you can subscribe here to secure my everlasting love. And please, pass it on if you think it might be of interest to anyone.)
🔂🧟‍♀️ The eternal return of zombie-centred design
Some follow-up on that evergreen topic of what comes after human-centred design: at TEDxSydney I delightedly crossed paths with fellow innovation veteran Carli Leimbach, who’s been thinking about “earth-centred design” as a corrective to anthropocentrism. I’m intrigued. She’s run an initial workshop with some like-minded people, and I’ll keep tabs on her progress.
In other more-than-human news, Anne Galloway recently posted her talk at IndiaHCI 2018, “Designing with, and for, the more-than human”. I’ve been following Anne’s work for a long time, from when the Internet of Things was called pervasive computing, to her more recent work in Aotearoa about sheep. For Anne, more-than-human-centred design means:
“Acknowledging that human beings are not the be-all and end-all.”
“Accepting our vulnerability, acting with humility and valuing our interdependency.”
“Living with the world, not against it.” 
Recommended. Also interesting is the “more-than-human design research roll-call” she recently initiated on Twitter. Follow this link if you want to get in touch with people who are active on the topic, at least in academic circles — some familiar names pop up.
🥪🤮 The alternative to curiosity is… hard to swallow
I’ve just wrapped up my NEIS coursework, and to celebrate I want to recount a story about my teacher Jason that also demonstrates why I’m so glad I decided to sign up for this microbusiness training and mentoring program.
A few years ago, Jason was the director of training at a large catering company which had a significant focus on healthcare facilities such as nursing homes. To get a feel for the training needs of his workforce, he decided to tour their workplaces, immersing himself in their day-to-day work. (His CEO was frankly a little surprised by this — as is the case with many sectors, it was uncommon for management to visit the frontlines. In fact, when he urged the Head of Care at one aged care facility to tour the frontlines of her own operation with him, the staff didn't recognise her, and assumed she was a visitor. Yikes.)
While working with kitchen staff in one nursing home, Jason noticed that one resident, a lone old woman, always ordered the same dish: a single salmon sandwich. Intrigued, he asked the staff about this, and they shrugged. “She must like it,” was the reply. 
The next day, Jason decided to have lunch with her. After a pleasant meal together, he couldn't contain himself. 
“Betty, I've noticed that you always order a salmon sandwich,” he said. (I love that he still remembers her name.) “I don't mean to pry, but, uh, why is that?”
She looked at him for a second. 
“It's because I'm afraid,” Betty whispered. 
It turned out that Betty had dysphagia — a problem with her pharynx or oesophagus that made swallowing difficult — and was terrified that if she admitted this, she would be placed on the puréed diet of an invalid. Over time, she'd gotten used to salmon sandwiches as the one meal she knew could swallow without issue. And because of her fears, that's all she ate. 
“Betty, how long have you been eating salmon sandwiches as your only meal?” Jason asked. 
“Two years.” So basically, a resident had been potentially malnourishing herself for years because the systems around providing and talking about choices in this system of care were broken. 
After setting her up with a more appropriate (and still chewable) set of diet choices, Jason decided to consult with dysphagia experts and patients like Betty to create a unit of training about these kinds of patient needs, and aimed at preventing such system breakdowns. Everyone at the their client nursing homes could attend. The aged-care nurses who came were flummoxed, telling their Head of Care, “Why are we only hearing about these kinds of problems and solutions from the catering guy? No offence, Jason, but seriously, WTF?”
In the midst of such regimented systems, where industrial efficiency often erases the possibility of supple action or even humane behaviour, I’m grateful that compassionate minds like Jason’s exist. When curiosity seems like it's at death’s door, people like him arrive to revive it.
The reveal: I was initially pretty skeptical about doing the course under Jason because before classes started, I'd gleaned that he’d spent most of his career managing McDonald’s restaurants. It turns out that my fears were misplaced, because I got a lot out of his teaching. While I really don't share his interest in large food systems, either in their experience as a customer nor in their general industrial impact on the world, I'm glad there are people like him enmeshed in such forbidding places, trying to make them more sensitive, responsive and just.
👹👽 First and Last Men
When’s the right time to write a requiem for the human species? 
The other night I had the pleasure of experiencing the late Jóhann Jóhannsson’s First and Last Men, a live symphonic and film adaptation of Olaf Stapledon’s seminal 1930 sf novel of future history, narrated by that alien god who lives among us, Tilda Swinton.
(I only knew the Stapledon novel by reputation, and Jóhannsson from his film scores, but was recently prodded to see this production when I watched Philip Kaufmann’s excellent 1978 remake of Invasion of the Body Snatchers. In a passing exchange that you’d easily miss, two characters chat about their reading habits, and Stapledon’s work is mentioned. More on this later. Intrigued, I pounced on the Jóhannsson version when it arrived in Sydney as part of the Vivid Festival.)
Jóhannsson only uses the last part of Stapledon’s immense story, which starts in the 20th Century and spans the next two billion years. This focus on the last of eighteen successive human species summons a particularly elegiac mood. Responding to the eventual extinction of life on Earth, humans have genetically re-engineered themselves for life on Neptune, and it is these highly advanced Neptunian humans, astonishing in their animalistic diversity, 20-year pregnancies and 2000-year childhoods, for whom Swinton speaks with such characteristically icy dignity. (My god: that voice.)
[caption align="alignnone" width="980"]
Tumblr media
[/caption]
As the camera slowly pans across a series of Yugoslavian Stalinist monuments (you probably know the ones — they recently came into vogue online in the last wave of ruin porn), we cycle through glassy sheets of what anticipatory mourning sounds like: slow arpeggios, and vocals that alternate between the wonderful anonymity of wind instruments and the mewling of cats. (I want to celebrate the two vocalists precisely because they didn’t call attention to themselves: they were exemplary orchestral players.) 
The mood is well-earned: despite all the ingenuity and adaptability of these far-future humans, we discover that a cascade of supernovas has triggered our final extinction. Manned interstellar spaceflight — that mainstay of most sf — is revealed as madness, reducing humans at their technological, technological and ethical peak to nihilistic despair. And as the ever-warming climate of Neptune slowly wreaks havoc on their awesome civilisation, the only thing these “Last Men” can do is make telepathic contact with the past — the conceit that enables Tilda Swinton to narrate the tale for us — as they wait for the end. 
It’s uncanny how much this story from 1930 resonates with our slowly unfolding climate change disaster. And now that the worst seems inevitable, the intense melancholy of Jóhannsson’s First and Last Men feels fitting — a necessary alternative to either denial or relentless panic. But beyond this, I’m impressed by the supreme ambivalence of Jóhannsson’s take. He makes the Last Men as dignified and magisterial as they are aloof, and their vaunted supremacy is a mixture of authentic maturity and our own sneaking suspicion that in their immortal, genetically-designed perfection, these final humans have lost the capacity to take unexpected action. It’s profoundly sympathetic. 
This suggests to me that having a post-human-centred design orientation is very far from being misanthropic. Perhaps we just need to stop pretending that empathy is ever completely possible — who can truly pretend to empathise with a post-human species two billion years in the future, let alone our strange and often unknowable fellow lifeforms, be they vertebrate, invertebrate or botanical? — and instead extend a generalised (and non-paternalistic) sympathy to our neighbours and ourselves. Sympathy is okay. Yes, our situation can be pegged to a combination of pathetic ignorance, shortsighted greed and genuine moustache-twirling villainy. And we are not the centre of the universe. But like others, we are still a species that deserves a dignified mourning.
🦸🏼‍♂️☄️ Can only a God save us now?
Stapledon’s 1930s future-superhumans continue to haunt me.
When I was teaching art to six-year-olds last year, I did a unit on comics, tracing the emergence of costumed superheroes to the ‘30s.
[caption align="alignnone" width="980"]
Tumblr media
No comment.[/caption]
“Why do you think superheroes appeared then?” I asked the class. “What was going on?”
“IT WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WORLD WARS!” said one student. “MILLIONS OF PEOPLE WERE DYING!” called out another. “My great-grandmother met my great-grandfather in a Spanish flu hospital during World War I!” came another, very-relevant non-sequitur. (It’s easily forgotten that the 1918 influenza outbreak killed at least 50 million people. And yes, these kids are amazing, and publicly funded education is the fucking best.)
Out of the despair of modernity — mechanised mass slaughter and earth shattering pandemics enabled by the globalisation of capitalist industry — we cried out for salvation. Yes, there are many reactionary underpinnings to our superheroic imaginaries (the above image is just the most obvious), but their basis in real trauma behooves us to at least be sympathetic their emergence. We need to take fantasies of supermen seriously (and critically), rather than simply dismissing them as misguided or ridiculous because they’re rather obviously dodgy as fuck. And similarly, we need to take populism seriously.
Make no mistake: while I’m fascinated by downturn and revival narratives, they’re more often than not pretty terrifying: “Make America Great Again” is the clearest contemporary example. And when famed philosopher Martin Heidegger looked forward to “a spiritual renewal of life in its entirety,” he was talking about Adolf Hitler. Don’t look away. Stay and fight in the mud.
🚀🌎 Refuge
Besides talking to the past, the final act of desperation of the Last Men was to transmit proto-organic matter into space, designing it to reassemble on favourable ground in a direction towards intelligent life. (Listening to Tilda Swinton intone gravely about “the Great Dissemination” was just too deliciously weird.) Of course, this is the plot of Invasion of the Body Snatchers, the story that prompted me to explore First and Last Men in the first place: we are being invaded by relentless pod-people, growing out of seeds assembled from “living threads that float on the stellar winds.”
[caption align="alignnone" width="980"]
Tumblr media
Not just taking our jobs — they're stealing Jeff Goldblum's life![/caption]
Too delicious.
Yours in ambivalence,
Ben
0 notes