#croupy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ausetkmt · 7 months

Text

Pharmacist Lunsford Richardson made Vicks a household name throughout the nation, but his popular product did not do the same for him.

Even in his native North Carolina, where his most celebrated of chemical concoctions has been right under our stuffy noses and on our congested chests for generations, the mention of Richardson’s name elicits blank stares from all but those who study and cherish history.

Richardson’s salve, Vicks VapoRub, helped the world breathe easier during the devastating influenza pandemic of 1918 and during the countless colds and flus of our childhoods, yet most of us couldn’t pick Lunsford Richardson out of a one-man police lineup, much less a who’s who of medical pioneers.

Why didn’t Richardson — by all accounts a creative inventor and smart businessman — ever become as famous as those vapors packed into the familiar squat blue jar?

Because his name wouldn’t fit on the jar.

That’s one version of the story. According to company and family lore, Richardson initially dubbed his promising new product Richardson’s Croup and Pneumonia Cure Salve. Realizing that this name didn’t exactly roll off the tongue nor fit when printed on a small medicine jar, Richardson changed the name to honor his brother-in-law, Dr. Joshua Vick. Another account suggests the inventive druggist plucked the name from a seed catalog he’d been perusing that listed the Vick Seed Co.

The truth may never be known. What is known, though, is that Lunsford Richardson created a medicinal marvel for the ages, the likes of which may never be equaled.

Croupy beginnings

A Johnston County native born in 1854, Richardson loved chemistry and hoped to study it at Davidson College. The college’s chemistry program at the time wasn’t as strong as he’d hoped it would be, so he studied Latin instead, graduating with honors in three years. He returned to Johnston County and taught school, but it wasn’t long before the young man’s love of chemistry got the best of him. In 1880, he moved to Selma to work with his physician brother-in-law, Dr. Vick. It was not uncommon in those days for doctors to dispense drugs themselves, but Vick was so busy seeing patients that he teamed up with Richardson, allowing him to handle the pharmacy duties for him. Richardson relied on his knowledge of Latin to help him learn the chemical compounds required to become a pharmacist, and that’s when he began to experiment with recipes for the product that would become Vicks VapoRub.

It wasn’t until Richardson moved to his wife’s hometown of Greensboro in 1890 that his magical salve and other products he created began to take off.

“He was a man of great intellect and talent,” says Linda Evans, community historian for the Greensboro Historical Museum, which has an exhibit devoted to Richardson and Vicks.

“Druggists at the time fashioned their own remedies a lot, and he created a number of remedies, in addition to his magic salve, that he sold under the name of Vick’s Family Remedies. He was obviously a man of such creativity.”

In Greensboro, working out of a downtown drugstore he purchased (where he once employed a teenaged William Sydney Porter, the future short story writer O. Henry), Richardson patented some 21 medicines. The wide variety of pills, liquids, ointments, and assorted other medicinal concoctions included the likes of Vick’s Chill Tonic, Vick’s Turtle Oil Liniment, Vick’s Little Liver Pills and Little Laxative Pills, Vick’s Tar Heel Sarsaparilla, Vick’s Yellow Pine Tar Cough Syrup, and Vick’s Grippe Knockers (aimed at knocking out la grippe, an old-timey phrase for the flu).

These products sold with varying degrees of success, but the best seller in the lineup of Richardson’s remedies was Vick’s Magic Croup Salve, which he introduced in 1894. And by all accounts, necessity was the key to its success.

“He had what they referred to as a croupy baby — a baby with a lot of coughing and congestion,” explains Richardson’s great-grandson, Britt Preyer of Greensboro. “So as a pharmacist, he began experimenting with menthols from Japan and some other ingredients, and he came up with this salve that really worked. That’s how it all started.”

Another version of the story suggests that all three of the Richardson children caught bad colds at the same time, and Richardson, dissatisfied with the traditional treatment of the day, which included poultices and a vapor lamp, spent hours at his pharmacy developing his own treatment.

Richardson’s salve — a strong-smelling ointment combining menthol, camphor, oil of eucalyptus, and several other oils, blended in a base of petroleum jelly — was a chest-soothing, cough-suppressing, head-clearing sensation. When the salve was rubbed on the patient’s chest, his or her body heat vaporized the menthol, releasing a wave of soothing, medicated vapors that the patient breathed directly into the lungs.

Vicks in the mailbox

In 1911, Richardson’s son Smith, by now a successful salesman for his father’s company, recommended discontinuing all of the company’s products except for Vick’s Magic Croup Salve. He believed the salve could sell even better if the company stopped investing time and money in the other, less successful remedies. He also suggested renaming the salve Vicks VapoRub, according to the company’s history timeline, to “help dramatize the product’s performance.” Richardson agreed, and a century later, the name’s still the same.

Meanwhile, Richardson intensified his marketing efforts by providing free goods to druggists who placed large orders and publishing coupons for free samples in newspapers. He also advertised on billboards and sent promotional mailings to post office boxes, addressed to Boxholder rather than the individual’s name, thus earning him the distinction of being the father of junk mail.

In 1925, Vicks even published a children’s book to help promote the product. The book told the story of two elves, Blix and Blee, who rescued a frazzled mother whose sick child refused to take nasty-tasting medicines. Their solution, of course, was the salve known as Vicks VapoRub.

Expanding and experimenting

As successful as the marketing campaign was, nothing sold Vicks VapoRub like the deadly Spanish flu outbreak that ravaged the nation in 1918 and 1919, killing hundreds of thousands of Americans. Loyal Vicks customers and new customers stocked up on the medicine to stave off or fight the disease.

According to the company’s history timeline, VapoRub sales skyrocketed from $900,000 to $2.9 million in a single year because of the pandemic. The Vicks plant in Greensboro operated around the clock, and salesmen were pulled off the road to help at the manufacturing facility in an effort to keep up with demand.

As the flu spread across the nation, Richardson grew ill with pneumonia in 1919 and died. Smith took over the company. Vicks continued to grow, buying other companies until Procter & Gamble bought it in the 1980s. Through the years, Vicks continued adding new products to its arsenal of cold remedies: cough drops, nose drops, inhalers, cough syrup, nasal spray, Formula 44, NyQuil. And whatever success those products attained, they got there standing on the broad shoulders of Richardson.

Richardson will never be a household name, but his salve has held that status for more than a century — and may do so for the next hundred years. And for Richardson, were he still around, that ought to be enough to clear his head.

A cure-all salve

Vicks users have claimed the salve can cure and heal many maladies. Even though Vicks doesn’t say the salve works for these problems, people still believe.

Toenail fungus: Rub the salve on your toenails, cover with socks, and sleep your fungus problems away. Cough: For a similar fix to a nagging cough, some believe rubbing Vicks on the soles of your feet can fix the problem. Dandruff: Rub Vicks directly on the scalp, and your flakes may just disappear. Chapped lips: Petroleum jelly is one of the ingredients in Vicks, and some say the ointment can help heal cracked lips. Mosquito bites: If you smooth Vicks on the red bumps on your legs and arms, it can supposedly take the itch right out. Warts: Dab Vicks on the wart, cover with duct tape, and it may fall off in a few days.

Greensboro Historical Museum 130 Summit Avenue Greensboro, N.C. 27401 (336) 373-2043 greensborohistory.org

See historical Vicks VapoRub bottles and learn about Lunsford Richardson.

#VICKS #Vicks vapo rub #Lunsford Richardson #Vicks VapoRub #spanish american flu #Spanish flu outbreak #1918 #1919 #pneumonia #Black Inventors

516 notes · View notes

alexar60 · 8 months

Text

Marécage

Des marais à perte de vue !

Moins connu que Gauvain, Tugdual venait aussi du pays de Galles. Il avait traversé les mers pour trouver ce que les chevaliers de la table ronde cherchent depuis toujours, le Saint Graal. Dans le nord, il avait combattu des hommes des glaces. A l’ouest, il s’est opposé au terrible serpent de mer, A l’est, c’était la fameuse horde sauvage qu’il défia pour sauver un petit village sans richesse. Quant au sud, il affronta le géant des sables. Mais de tous ses défis, il ne pensait pas que celui-ci serait le plus compliqué.

Des marais à perte de vue !

Voilà comment les paysans de la région décrivirent l’endroit. La piste donnée par un marchant local obligeait de s’enfoncer dans les terres de Nimué. Mais, à l’approche, il comprit qu’il ne serait pas facile d’entrer dans ces terres. C’était une immense étendue d’eau et de bois où personne n’allait par peur des superstitions. On disait qu’il était hanté, qu’un monstre habitait la zone et dévorait tout être vivant pénétrant dans le marécage. D’ailleurs, Tugdual n’entendit aucun chant d’oiseau, preuve que même ceux qui sont censés être à l’abri, ne se sentent pas protégés.

Le chevalier suivit son instinct. « Si le Graal est au centre de cet enfer », j’irai le chercher, pensa-t-il. Personne ne voulut l’aider. Ainsi, il acheta une barque et s’enfonça sous le regard médusé et désolé des villageois. Au début, tout se passait bien. Mais après avoir traversé le lac, ou plutôt la grande étendue d’eau, sa barque pénétra le sanctuaire interdit.

Puis, il fut confronté à différents problèmes. La chaleur étouffante du jour laissait sa place à au froid glacial de la nuit. L’humidité fut si importante et l’air si vicié qu’il vit, de ses propres yeux, son épée commencer à rouiller. Son bateau n’avançait que rarement dans l’eau croupie, l’obligeant à ramer et à se jeter dans le marais pour couper les racines des arbres ou des plantes qui, l’empêchaient de continuer sa route. Et le brouillard toujours présent, devenait de plus en plus dense quand il s’enfonçait dans ce marais infect. Dès lors, il réalisait que sa quête devenait absurde.

Des marais à perte de vue !

Après quelques jours, Tugdual pensait avoir fait le plus dur. Mais quelque-chose ne lui convenait pas. En effet, plus il avançait, plus il avait la sensation de déjà-vu. « Cet arbre, je l’ai aperçu. Et cette broussaille qui ressemble à un cheval, je le reconnais.» se disait le chevalier. De même, les arbres ressemblaient énormément à des formes humaines. Il crut même qu’ils gesticulaient des bras en voyant le vent bouger les branches.

Des marais à perte de vue !

Il avait fini ses provisions. Dès lors, il se mit à pêcher et récupérer quelques poissons. Tous avaient une terrible odeur de vase. Il vomit, sentant la maladie l’envahir. Et les moustiques qui s’amusaient à sucer son sang. Sa tête était chaude, il regrettait cette quête.

Des marais à perte de vue !

Dans son rêve, Tugdual vit une jeune femme aux cheveux d’or et à la peau blanche. Elle sortait de l’eau et l’invitait à le rejoindre. Il tendit le bras pour attraper sa main et se laissa glisser hors du bateau. Lorsqu’il se réveilla en avalant une gorgée d’eau putride, il se rendit compte qu’il était au milieu de rien. Sa barque avançait lentement. Lui qui ne savait pas nager, dut faire un effort surhumain pour la rejoindre, Enfin sur les planches, il souffla et s’endormit de nouveau. Le brouillard se faisait de plus en plus épais.

Il regrettait l’absence de son écuyer ou d’un compagnon. Son homme de main tomba malade quelques jours avant d’arriver dans ce village maudit. Il aurait pu attendre qu’il se rétablisse mais son esprit contenait trop d’impatience. Alors, il laissa son fidèle serviteur pensant le revoir dans quelques jours au plus. Et les autres chevaliers suivaient une autre piste à l’autre bout du pays ou en Calédonie. Dieu qu’il se sentait seul dans ce monde perdu. Même les oiseaux ne chantaient pas pour lui.

Soudain un craquement puis un cri. C’était le hurlement d’un animal. Devant son embarcation, l’eau se mit à bouillir. Il serra son épée à moitié tachée de rouille et observa cette eau remuer dans tous les sens. Le bateau continua d’avancer avec une lenteur insupportable. Il se mit à prier n’importe quel dieu. Malgré son baptême, il demeurait encore païen et louait toujours quelques dieux celtes. La rivière se calma brusquement. Tugdual observa les semblants de rives touffues et inaccessibles. Il jeta un œil sur un morceau de bois flottant. C’était les restes d’un cor de cerf. La tête arrachée regardait Tugdual en tirant la langue. L’intrépide semblait lire dans ce regard vide un danger.

Des marais à perte de vue !

A peine remis de cette vision d’horreur, le chevalier sentit quelque-chose frapper son épaule. C’était un tentacule. L’homme se releva immédiatement l’épée à la main. Face à lui, un monstre se dressait, des yeux globuleux le dévisageaient. Un second tentacule sortit de l’eau puis un troisième. Dès lors, le poulpe s’amusa avec la barque en la bousculant. Tugdual tomba, mais réussit à se maintenir dedans. Le monstre jouait, le bateau, collé aux bras de la pieuvre, ne touchait plus l’eau. Un tentacule enroula la barque avant de l’écraser comme un vulgaire insecte. Le jeune héros plongea, malgré lui, dans une eau noire et dangereuse.

Il se débattait aussi bien pour ne pas se noyer que pour se défendre du poulpe. Son poignard frappait l’eau sans toucher le monstre. Il frappait et essayait en même temps de rejoindre la rive. Enfin il arriva à avoir pieds et put courir jusqu’au bord. Il regarda l’étendue d’eau. Tout était calme. La pieuvre avait disparu. Jamais il n’aurait pensé rencontrer un pareil animal en cet endroit.

Des marais à perte de vue !

Tugdual avait tout perdu. Il ne lui restait qu’un couteau accroché à sa ceinture. Il avançait à travers les ronces et les feuillages denses. Le brouillard n’aidait pas. Il essaya de chercher de la nourriture. Mais c’était le rôle de son écuyer que de chasser les petits animaux. Lui était habitué aux sangliers, aux cerfs et autres gibiers de grande envergure. Il marchait cherchant à longer la rivière.

Des marais à perte de vue !

La traversé devint encore plus longue et périlleuse. Il risqua de s’effondrer d’épuisement dans la boue et les flaques. Ses vêtements se déchirèrent au contact des ronces et autre plantes à aiguilles. Il sentait la verdure blesser sa chair. Il avait mal. Mais il ne voulait pas mourir en cet endroit. Savoir que son corps finirait ici, imaginer ses ossements pourrir dans ce marécage, le révulsait. Alors, il trouva la force de continuer.

Des marais à perte de vue !

A cause de la soif, de la faim et de la fatigue, son imagination joua des tours. Il entendit une étrange mélodie. C’était un chant doux, une voix féminine harmonieuse. Il s’arrêta, chercha à regarder le ciel à travers la brume. Celle-ci parut moins épaisse. Et si ce n’était pas un mirage ? S’il entendait bien une femme chanter ? Aussitôt il s’engouffra au milieu des buissons en direction de ce chant. Il trébucha sur les racines, s’arracha la peau des bras et des jambes. Il faillit se crever un œil avec une branche tendue. Enfin, le brouillard avait disparu ainsi que la forêt et les marécages.

Tugdual avait réussi. Un château de pierre se dressait devant lui. Il marcha difficilement, ses jambes tremblantes avaient de plus en plus de mal à avancer. Il s’agenouilla, se mit à ramper vers ce château fantastique. Puis il s’endormit. Pendant ce temps, une jeune femme chantait à côté d’une fenêtre. A ses côté, un homme sourire aux lèvres, tenait une coupe de vin. Ses habits étaient des plus éclatants. Il était envouté par la beauté de la chanteuse… A moins que ce soit par sa magie, parce qu’il ressemblait trait pour trait à Tugdual.

Alex@r60 – août 2023

#alex@r60 #french #français #texte #30jourspourécrire #fantastique #des dieux et des hommes

17 notes · View notes

christian-dubuis-santini · 4 months

Text

S’imaginer avoir une idée claire de sa situation dans le monde en répétant le lexique et la syntaxe des médias, c'est croire qu’il est possible d’accéder au sourdre de la source à partir de l’eau croupie d’un marécage.

Aimer, c’est changer de discours.

5 notes · View notes

aurevoirmonty · 6 months

Text

« Le monde appartient aux forts, à ceux qui allient la force à la noblesse d'âme, qui ne se vautrent pas dans les mares croupies des compromissions. Le monde appartient à la grande brute racée, à celui qui n'a qu'une parole et qui la tient ».

Jack London

3 notes · View notes

bibliobouc · 8 months

Text

Marécage

Humanité décadente

Sur les réseaux sociaux

Marécage d'opinions croupies

Déversoir de commentaires crasseux

Par des fauteurs de haine

Dans le meilleur des immondes

#30jourspourécrire #haters #marécage

3 notes · View notes

raphaellesblog · 6 months

Text

Aujourd'hui, mon meilleur ami croupis dans un asile psychiatrique car il est atteint du syndrome de korsakoff (carence de la vitamine B1).Cela est dû à son alcoolisme chronique .Le syndrome de korsakoff vous fait tout oublier entre autre .Même moi il m a aujourd'hui je suis infiniment désolée et triste je vous prends sans doute la tête mais pardonnez moi .Vous ais je dis qu il ne me reconnaîtrait plus jamais?

#korsakoff

2 notes · View notes

ajgrey9647 · 7 months

Note

Forehead kisses + Post-Rita/mind control; any dimension; Tommy/Jason & Kim (platonic for Kim~)

I took a little liberty with tweaking the pairing but only slightly as you will see. :)

Sunshine in the Storm, Part 2

Prime Universe

“We tried to warn you, you know. Why didn’t you listen to us, listen to Zordon, and just rest and recover before running back out into Armageddon? Our Ranger healing still has its limits.”

Despite his fever and throbbing headache, Jason managed to narrow his dark eyes at Tommy’s gentle scolding, glaring up from the corner of his parent’s couch.

“I didn’t have that luxury. Rita never lets up,” he answered, voice hoarse and nasally from his stuffed-up nose. “You know that better than anyone.”

The Green Ranger tapped his sneakered foot in frustration, arms crossed as he stared down where his leader huddled under a thick quilt, shivering. A collection of textbooks and folders sat piled haphazardly in front of Jason’s curled legs. One slick red pocket folder glided to the carpet along with a carton of tissue under the force of his shaking.

Tommy had dutifully retrieved the day’s classwork and Jason’s books as he’d went about his school day, feeling strangely disappointed every time he plopped down at a desk and noticed his best friend’s empty. Knowing that he would eventually get to see Jason later made the teen’s stomach knot in anticipation.

That was odd.

“All the more reason you can’t run about with four cracked ribs and ten lacerations. Two of which were infected from the dirty alien reservoir water and one that nearly severed your femoral artery. Oh, and the prolonged exposure to the cold while soaking wet,” the Green Ranger fired back, kneeling to retrieve the dropped items.

Jason wiped his red, dripping nose with a crumpled wad of tissue before rolling his eyes.

“You’re not my mom, Tommy.”

“No, I’m not your mom, Jase. Because your mom wouldn’t tell you to stop being such a stubborn, foolish jackass for once,” the long-haired teen snarked, bracing for his leader’s fiery temper.

Attempting to sit up straighter in his indignation, the Red Ranger wobbled dangerously, tilting precariously over the edge of the couch cushion. His mouth was still opening to ream Tommy soundly when his vision darkened at the periphery and dizziness overwhelmed him.

Swiftly, the Green Ranger’s strong arms were engulfing Jason, catching him before he could topple to the floor.

“Huh?” the Ranger leader grunted, eyes blinking rapidly in confusion.

Righting his best friend back against his sweat-damp pillow, Tommy huffed.

“See? You almost went ass over teacups just now. What if you were in the middle of fighting Goldar or one of Rita’s other monsters? You’d be a sitting duck because you couldn’t fight your way out of a wet paper sack in this condition!”

Jason growled and tugged his quilt tighter over his hunched shoulders.

“You don’t have to rub it in, Green,” he muttered. “I’m well aware how weak I am right now.”

Tommy ran a hand over his face and tried to hold his tongue. He knew the Red Ranger was still miffed he’d deliberately disobeyed a direct order on that alien planet even if he had admitted he was grateful for the warm, dry clothing.

The silence in the house was eerie, the only sound the faint ticking of a clock somewhere up the stairs. Jason’s wet-sounding coughs and wheezes were beginning to worry the green-clad teen.

“Where are your parents, bro?”

The croupy leader waved a hand dismissively.

“Dad had a work conference out of state, Mom tagged along. They’ll be back in a few days,” he croaked before hacking something moist into his tissue. “I’m not a baby. My Ranger healing should have me back at full strength by then.”

Mouth gaped, Tommy shook his head and decided once again he was going to have to risk Jason’s wrath and put his foot, or rather boot, down a second time.

“No way you’re staying here all by yourself like this!”

Dark eyes widened and Jason’s cheeks flushed even more, if that were possible.

“I don’t need you to babysit me, Tommy! Why can’t you listen to me?” he argued vainly.

Sinking onto the couch beside his best friend’s bent knees, the Green Ranger sighed and looked tenderly into his face.

“Bro, I know you’re still mad about what happened on that planet. I’m sorry but I’m not sorry I disobeyed,” he murmured gently, one hand giving Jason’s knee a squeeze.

Crossing his arms in his unconscious ‘leader’ stance, the Red Ranger’s eyes looked wounded despite his stern countenance.

“I don’t know why you decided to start disrespecting me as leader,” he started in a low, raspy tone. “Do you really think that poorly of me and my ability to lead?”

Hazel eyes widened as large as half dollars on Tommy’s face.

“What? That’s what you believe I think about you?” he asked, stunned.

He never would have imagined that his behavior appeared this way to Jason. The Green Ranger had only been looking out for his Red. It was so far from what he really felt for Jason that for a minute he couldn’t find words.

The dark-haired teen shrugged and sniffed, stifling another round of rumbly coughs.

“What else am I supposed to think?”

Tommy’s stunned expression softened to one of sadness. He removed his hand from the Red Ranger’s knee and stared at the carpet, feeling the burning of threatened tears pricking his eyes.

“Jase,” he breathed, “you’re my best friend. My first and only one, to be perfectly honest.”

He tried to smile and chuckled joylessly.

“Don’t tell Kim I said that though.”

Jason’s tense shoulders relaxed somewhat as he listened to the Green Ranger’s hesitant words.

“I have a long history of disrespecting authority figures, yes. Since I was about 8 years old probably. You’re also the first one I genuinely admire and want to serve. You freed me from Rita’s spell, you were the first one to extend your hand to me even though I made your life absolute hell, you welcomed me to the team,” Tommy admitted, still unable to meet Jason’s eyes.

“You’ve never looked at me like a was worthless piece of shit, Jase. I didn’t want to lose you, my leader and my best friend and brother, to something as stupid as hypothermia. That’s why I insisted you take my hoodie. And now, you’re sick and alone, sounding like a drowning cat every time you start coughing.”

Lowering his arms, the Red Ranger’s expression also softened. The Green Ranger’s words were like a balm on his unspoken insecurities as the leader of the Power Rangers.

“Oh, Tommy,” he whispered, then issued another round of jagged coughs.

Risking a look in Jason’s direction, the other teen was alarmed at the obvious thick material the sick Ranger was hacking up. Tearing out a fresh handful of tissues from the container, he pressed them into the boy’s hand. There was no doubt in his mind now that Jason could stay here by himself.

“See, Jase,” he tried again when the teen settled. “Please let me stay with you. You know I’ll end up worrying myself sick if I don’t, thinking of all the bad things that could happen. Like what if Goldar showed up? Or your fever gets too high or you have trouble breathing?”

He held up a hand quickly.

“That’s not me saying you aren’t a skilled fighter or talented leader. Because I don’t think you’re both, I KNOW you’re both, alright. I want to be here because I care about you.”

Jason sighed as he reclined back further on his pillow, headache pounding fiercely behind his eyes and fatigue washing over him.

“Alright, alright, you can stay,” he acquiesced. “I have to admit it would be nice to have some help right now.”

The Green Ranger grinned, feeling a rush of relief. Not that he wouldn’t have just disobeyed again, because what could Jason do? Call the police and explain the whole Ranger-related situation to law enforcement? He certainly couldn’t get up to kick his ass either.

“Thanks, bro. Now, do you have everything we need? Humidifier, Tylenol, cough drops, throat spray? Chicken soup, Gatorade? More tissues?” he started ticking off every imaginable tool and item he could think of illness-related. “I think I would feel better if you had one of those things for your finger too, that little thing that reads your oxygen.”

Jason just stared at the ruminating Green Ranger, feeling some amusement under his discomfort and weakness. He couldn’t help poking gently at the teen’s mother hen routine.

“Hey, you might want to grab an intubation kit and a ventilator from the hospital too. Just to be on the safe side. Maybe some suction equipment.”

Tommy rolled his eyes dramatically.

“I’m hoping your smart-ass mouth is a sign you’re turning the corner,” he scolded, but lost the fight to restrain a grin. “Don’t think I wouldn’t get those things just for you if I could.”

Leaning over, the Green Ranger’s cool fingers grazed Jason’s clammy forehead. They felt like heaven on the teen’s flesh, the temperature difference soothing. Then to his disappointment, they were gone.

“Open up,” Tommy ordered, a thermometer clutched in his hand.

He glanced at the last read out that it registered.

“Goddammit, Jason! 102.5! That’s almost an ER visit! Please say you took something!”

Groaning, the Ranger leader squirmed like a bedraggled kitten.

“Yes, Tommy. I took some Tylenol right after. Maybe an hour ago.”

Surely, the fever would be dropping by now. Jason gamely parted his lips and allowed the Green Ranger to slide the thermometer under his tongue. After a few moments, a high beep alerted that the reading was complete.

The readout showed a new temperature of 100.7.

‘Thank God,’ Tommy breathed, tucking the thermometer back on the side table.

“Jase, is it ok if I take a look around and make sure we don’t need anything else before we settle in?”

Dark eyes fluttered and the teen waved a hand weakly.

“Suit yourself, bro. If you think we need something, grab the envelope on the corkboard in the kitchen. My parents always leave me case when they have to travel. Take whatever, I trust you, Green.”

Then he curled into a tight ball, tucking his quilt snuggly around himself.

Making his way into the kitchen, then the bathroom, Tommy poked around in cabinets and drawers, checking for all the usual illness staples. He found one measly can of chicken noodle soup, a half sleeve of saltine crackers, an almost empty bottle of throat spray, a humidifier with no vapor packs, a small cool compress, and a travel size bottle of ibuprofen.

‘This won’t do at all.’

Spying the white envelope tacked to the corkboard, the Green Ranger pried it loose and opened the flap. He still felt guilty and sneaky despite having his best friend’s approval. Counting out what he hoped would be enough, he folded the bills and slid them into his wallet.

Rounding the corner back into the living room, he approached the couch.

“Hey, Jase?”

No answer.

Peering intently at the Ranger burrowed in the quilt-nest, Tommy watched the easy rise and fall of his breathing, the sounds smooth and reassuring. Jason’s full lips were parted, and his exhalations ruffled the tissue near his cheek. He looked so peaceful and childlike, just like the 17-year-old kid he truly was.

‘I can’t leave him,’ Tommy decided. ‘Even if he’s not gasping, Goldar’s dumb ass could still show up.’

Lifting his communicator to his lips as he walked toward the kitchen, the teen pressed the small button on the side.

“Hey Kim?”

A few moments later, in a flash of pink light, the small brunette appeared in the Scott’s kitchen.

“How’s he doing?” she whispered, hooking a thumb towards the living room.

Tommy shook his head.

“Sleeping like a baby right now. He did have a really high fever, but it came down with medicine. It must be bad if his Ranger healing is taking this long.”

Kimberly noticed the Green Ranger chewing his lip in worry.

“Hey, I know Jason. He’ll be alright,” the tiny girl smiled. “He’s always been a hard ass ever since we were babies. His mom really tried to curb it, but obviously it didn’t work.”

She laughed and patted Tommy’s shoulder.

��Believe it or not, he’s only gotten more bullheaded since we became Rangers. Jase’s attitude is more about protecting us than anything. He thinks he has to be strong and brave all day every day, carry the weight of the world alone. So, don’t take his mouth too seriously.”

Holding out her hand, the Pink Ranger accepted the list of items scrawled on a torn notebook page.

“He’s probably feeling really embarrassed and that can make him grouchy, on top of being sick.”

Tommy sighed.

“I’ll try to keep that in mind. Before you guys, I didn’t really have any friends, so this is all new to me. I appreciate you getting this stuff for me, Kim. The thought of leaving him here alone like this…” he trailed over, gesturing helplessly.

“Hey, don’t even worry about it.”

She smiled again bashfully, tucking a lock of brown hair behind her ear, cheeks blushing under the Green Ranger’s hazel eyes.

When Tommy tried to hand her the money for their supplies, the Pink Ranger shook her head.

“Jase’s money is no good here. He’s my big brother. I’ve got my card, no arguing.”

Lifting to her tiptoes like a sprite, Kim planted a kiss to Tommy’s forehead.

“Give that to that stubborn ox when he wakes up,” she teased, giving the teen a quick wink. “Back soon!”

Another pink flash and Kim was gone, leaving Tommy standing in her wake. Heat crept up the back of his neck, thinking of the beautiful girl’s flirtatious behavior. The Pink Ranger was an awesome girl, gorgeous, smart, caring. And she seemed to be interested in the smoldering dumpster fire that was Tommy Oliver.

‘Go figure,’ he chuckled.

The Green Ranger had never had a serious partner before. He’d had ‘playmates’ when the urges struck him but not recently. Not since he’d righted his wayward course and attempted to stay on the good path. The people who’d shared his bed had been male and female, depending on the individual in question.

Tommy found that he wasn’t particularly attracted to one over the other. It was more about the person themselves, their soul, their aura. What was in their pants was like hair or eye color or whether they were tall or short; a mere characteristic that was just part of the package. He didn’t limit himself in terms of who to pursue.

This was NOT something he was ready to share, however. Especially with the Rangers who struck him as very innocent and sheltered despite their secret battles as superheroes. Tommy wasn’t sure how to explain it so they would understand. Better to just be quiet about it for now.

Quietly walking back into the living room, the Green Ranger crouched near Jason’s head again to listen to his breathing. Thankfully, it was still easy and restful. That was something to be thankful for.

Taking the opportunity, Tommy studied the finer features of the other teen’s face. His long dark lashes, soft cheeks, full lips. Just barely, he could see the Red Ranger’s teeth, beautiful and white, a tiny chip marring the corner of a front tooth.

Had that happened in a battle with a monster? Or during a martial arts tournament? Or maybe football?

What he said earlier was true. Jason was a talented and skillful guy. Gorgeous too. Brave. Brilliant in battle.

But he was also the Red Ranger, Tommy’s leader as well as his best friend. It wasn’t something that could ever be. Jason could have any girl at Angel Grove High. He’d heard plenty of them commenting about his bro and his desirability. His resistance to dating only added to his mystique.

“I still mean what I said, sunshine. That’s a promise. I’ll never let anything happen to you,” he whispered fiercely, a hand smoothing the dark hair.

Before he could stop himself, Tommy leaned forward and dropped a light kiss to Jason’s warm forehead.

“Ummm…bro?”

‘Oh shit!’

Tommy froze, sure his heart was going to drop out of his chest and into a pile of ash on the Scott’s living room carpet.

“Jase?”

Almost in slow motion, the Green Ranger pulled his head back to look into his best friend’s confused face.

“Did you just kiss my forehead? I know my fever’s been fucking with me, but I feel pretty sure that just happened,” the Red Ranger rasped.

‘Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit….’

“Tommy?”

‘Think of something, anything… how can I explain what I just did? GODDAMMIT, why did I fucking DO THAT!’

“Kim stopped by to get my list. I couldn’t leave you. She said to give that to you when you woke up. And she called you a stubborn ox,” he panicked, voice sounding high-pitched and screamy even to his own ears.

Jason huffed and closed his eyes again.

“Rude,” he muttered before drifting back to sleep again.

‘OH THANK FUCK HE BOUGHT THAT!!!!’

#power rangers #mighty morphin power rangers #boom comics! power rangers #jason lee scott #tommy oliver #secret crushes #ao3 author #ao3 fanfic #tumblr prompt

2 notes · View notes

mogkiompmovieguide · 1 year

Text

The Heart is Deceitful above all Things // Le Livre de Jérémie

Asia Argento

U.S / 2004 / 98 min

Dans cette vision magnifiquement cauchemardesque de l'apocalypse américaine, un lien entre une mère détraquée et son fils martyrisé doit survivre malgré tout.

L'adaptation d'Asia Argento du recueil de nouvelles de JT Leroy, "The Heart Is Deceitful Above All Things ", est une mise en scène déchirante d'un conte sur la maltraitance des enfants, peu importe s’il s’agit d’une imposture autobiographique, et quelle que soit l'identité frauduleuse de son auteur JT Leroy ; Jeremiah Terminator LeRoy, un personnage littéraire créé dans les années 1990 par l'écrivaine américaine Laura Albert.

En tissant une intrigue à partir de ses deux livres, "Sarah" et "The Heart Is Deceitful…", Asia Argento relaie l'histoire de l'orphelin Jérémie (Jimmy Bennett/Cole Sprouse), que sa mère, Sarah, (Asia Argento) abandonne alors qu'il venait de naître, pour partir errer sur les routes de Virginie Occidentale, les mêmes que celles de la métamphétamine, pour laquelle elle tapine au hasard des parkings des aires de repos pour camionneurs et autres créatures du bitume. Le ciel n’est jamais bleu, la lumière grise, la seule végétation qui apparait dans le film se restreint à des carrées de gazon jaunies, sur lesquels gisent capotes et lézards morts.

Les années passent, Sarah revient plus défoncée et véreuse que jamais, pour arracher Jérémie à une famille d'accueil pourtant si stable … S’en suit pour l’enfant, une effroyable descente dans le caniveau croupi, sur ce torrent de matière fécale se reflète les visions abominables issues du cerveau lymphatique de Sarah.

Sarah tente pathétiquement de materner Jérémie qui vient d’avoir sept ans ; entre les clubs de strip-tease, les planques de trafiquants, plates-formes et Hot Rods, ces endroits que sa mère et lui appellent "chez eux". Alors qu’il se développe comme il peut, sa psychologie sexuelle de tendance sadomasochiste évolue prématurément elle aussi. Cela à la suite d'une expérience des plus marquantes, transmise par des hommes qui le violent et le battent, et une mère dont le travail de prostituée semble l’obliger à le travestir, pour le faire passer pour sa sœur cadette.

Tout allait pour le pire, et finalement Sarah abandonne Jérémie à nouveau pour partir en Lune de miel l’espace d’un week-end ; en fait une absence totale de 3 ans, durant lesquelles Jérémie reste seul, livré à lui-même. Ceci sans compter l’arrivée d’un grand-père totalement azimuté et psychiquement zélé (incarné par Peter Fonda) qui prend la garde temporaire de Jérémie.

Aussitôt de retour auprès de son fils, aussitôt de retour sur la route ("Tu te rappelles à quel point nous nous amusions?", dit-elle)

Jérémie, a 11 ans, il fait désormais l'expérience directe de la vie de sa mère. La prostitution d’autoroute, sa chaîne de petits amis de basse vie et son abandon à la folie psychotique, l’âme dévastée par la rue et la meth. Étrangement à ce moment du film, le spectateur commence à s'interroger sur la rébellion sévère de Sarah, sentant que la prostituée punk de 23 ans pourrait être un bien meilleur parent qu'il l'imagine pour Jérémie, simplement parce qu'elle l'aime.

NON.

Ceux qui aiment leur cinéma amusant, ou du moins édifiant, n'apprécieront probablement pas The Heart is Deceitful Above All Things - mais quiconque est en contact avec son misérabilisme intérieur trouvera beaucoup à savourer dans cet examen sans compromis et implacablement pessimiste d'un lien entre la mère et le fils qu'aucune quantité de négligence, d'abus ou de folie ne peut effacer. Comme Dorothy dans Le Magicien d'Oz, Jérémie entreprend un voyage étrange et psychédélique à travers le miroir des backwaters pauvres du sud de l'Amérique, et pour correspondre à la perspective de ce petit garçon confus, parfois en état d'ébriété, Asia Argento propose une gamme désorientée mais indéniablement magnifique, de caméras biaisées par des angles inconfortables, et autres sursauts visuels hallucinatoires ( dont cette animation en volume, avec : « Le petit oiseau de proie en argile et le petit morceau de charbon qui pleure du sang" je crois).

Filmé par Eric Alan Edwards (Kids, My Own Private Idaho), et avec une bande originale comprenant Sonic Youth, Subhumans, Billy Corgan et : Hasil Adkins qui fait aussi une apparition décalée presque évidente, dans laquelle il joue de l’Orgue de Barbarie dans la rue, le film a un attrait torride et sudiste similaire à celui des livres de Leroy. Les caméos de Winona Ryder et Marilyn Manson, ou encore de Lydia Lunch incarnant une Assistante sociale, ajoutent une puissance Folk Punk authentiquement Américaine.

Asia Argento reste sexy tant bien que mal, car il s'agit tout de même de l’histoire réelle cette fois-ci d’une jeune actrice, fille d'un célèbre réalisateur européen, qui s'installe à Hollywood, où elle se trouve prise dans une spirale infernale de romances ratées et de toxicomanie renforcée. Autant que celle d’une malformation sociale de l'identité sexuelle d'un garçon. Fictive ou pas … "The Heart is Deceitful Above All Things" est une interprétation sincère et stylisée d'une histoire terriblement réaliste.

MAIS.

POUR CEUX QUI EN VOUDRAIENT UN PEU PLUS :

Asia Argento, elle-même résidente de Los Angeles et fille de l'auteur Italien Dario Argento, avait déjà clairement présenté avec "Scarlet Diva" une carte de visite très personnelle - et sa présence dans le rôle principal ne faisait que renforcer l'impression d'autobiographie. Pour son deuxième long métrage, elle s'en tient à une autre autobiographie (en quelque sorte), bien que cette fois ce ne soit pas la sienne. Le titre peut provenir de Jérémie 17: 9, "The Heart Is Deceitful Above All Things " est adapté d'un tout autre livre de Jérémie - le roman (soi-disant) autobiographique de J. (Jérémie) T. Leroy. Si Argento s'est de nouveau approprié le rôle principal de son film, il est peu probable que les critiques l'accusent cette fois, comme certains l'ont fait avec Scarlet Diva, de narcissisme complaisant, car il serait difficile d'imaginer un rôle aussi peu flatteur et repoussant que celui de Sarah.

Les critiques sont extrêmement partagées, virulentes, voir même hargneuses concernant cet étrange objet d’Art et de provocation.

D’un point de vue haineux et réactionnaire mais objectif : Ce film est dépourvu de valeur morale, et encore moins "rédemptrice". Ce film délétère mérite des points thématiques négatifs.

L'éducation de Jimmy Bennett a dû être sérieusement pernicieuse pour que ses parents lui permettent de participer à cette adaptation digne d’un bouquin de Peter Sotos, puis lui permettent de rester en contact avec la Femme responsable de cette exploitation ultime.

En un mot, l'histoire célèbre la maltraitance des enfants sous une myriade de formes. Sarah fait de Jérémie ainsi que de son public, des captifs. Nous assistons impuissants à la destruction psychique réelle du garçon, et le regardons fumer, boire, se droguer et avoir des relations sexuelles avec des inconnus lorsqu'il n'est pas torturé.

La photographie comprend de nombreux clichés d'Argento à quatre pattes en train de pousser son cul vers l’objectif de la caméra, comme si elle le considérait comme son meilleur atout.

Jimmy Bennett a l'air effrayé, triste et finalement engourdi tout au long de sa partie du film. Heureusement, lorsque sa partition est terminée, il est remplacé par deux jumeaux plus âgés après qu'un homme n'ait viole son personnage.

La scène de viol est peut-être la partie la plus tordue du film, avec Asia Argento intervenant dans le fantasme de Jérémie se substituant à Sarah. Quoi ? Vous ne pensiez pas un instant qu'il y aurait une scène de cul dans son film sans qu'elle y participe elle-même ?

Bref ...

Il vous reste maintenant 97 minutes de film montrant à quel point Asia Argento peut être à la fois grossière, cruelle et salope. A la fois sexy, intelligente, et talentueuse.

Bonne séance

Le film ICI

( SOUS-TITRES EN ANGLAIS UNIQUEMENT ; j’ai tout de même ajouté au dossier un fichier .srt Français au time code légèrement décalé, il suffit juste de le synchronisé vous-même )

4 notes · View notes