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chemorygunko · 4 years

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24 Reasons Why a Zombie Apocalypse would be better than the Events of 2020 so far

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2020 has certainly been a year of surprises! There’s no denying that.

To be honest though, I’m pretty sure many of us were secretly holding out for a zombie apocalypse, if the TV shows and movies of the past few years are anything to judge by!

So I asked myself, what would this be like if this was a zombie apocalypse? And why would a zombie apocalypse be better than the events of the world we’re currently facing?

Here are 24 Reasons Why a Zombie Apocalypse would be better than the Events of 2020 so far.

1. You know what the problem is

Look it just doesn’t get clearer than a zombie charging at you. Now we’re just in limbo. We can sense something is wrong, but we can’t entirely put our finger on what it is. And we dare not go looking, in case we’re labelled conspiracy theorists!

2. You know who the enemy is

Again this is clear. It’s the dead, decaying, smelly piece of flesh trying to eat you for breakfast. Now your enemies are everywhere… the black person you’ve always been friends with, cancel culture, clients, your boss, the outrage mob. Hell, a statue could fall on you! As if potentially dying to this novel virus wasn’t bad enough already.

3. You know what to do

Run. That’s what you do. Never mind the photo albums, make-up bag or laptop: you run and get away from the zombies.

4. You understand the urgency

What is that? A zombie. When do we run? NOW! It’s easy… see zombie? RUN!

5. It happens quickly, not a in long drawn-out limbo

Once you have the first zombie, the others follow quickly. And every guy that dies on your side, automatically joins the other team. Within a short while, no more than a few days - maybe weeks - the plague will have spread far and wide already. The bodies will literally be piling up in the streets. Well, shuffling up and down the streets to be more accurate.

6. The challenges are clear

Avoid the zombies. Find safe shelter. Find food. Keep people alive. No one’s going to be worried about their comfort, their appearance, or their stock portfolio. Now there’s only one clear objective: stay alive and keep as many of your people alive as possible.

7. You know when to be scared

When the zombies are coming at you; if you’re in an unsafe space; if there’s nowhere secure to hide yourselves. You also know to be cautious and that perimeter guards aren’t optional. Neither are guns. It’s kill or be killed.

8. You know who to be scared of

It’s them versus us all the way… and it’s clear who the “them” and “us” are. That doesn’t mean that no one on your team will get drafted to the other squad, but the moment they turn, it will be obvious.

9. You know who the enemy is

The enemies are the zombies… not your awesome next door neighbour, or the colleague you consider a friend. Now, cancel culture & outrage mob are threatening people’s survival in a way that doesn’t even give them a fighting chance to survive.

10. It’s obvious when someone is ill

It’s the trying to bite and viciously attack you that gives it away. Nowadays however, someone sneezing from a pollen allergy could be perceived as anything.

11. It’s obvious they can’t be helped

You can’t help the zombie - it’s going to bite you. So you’re not tempted to. Okay yes, there are those crazies in all the zombie lore, who keep their partners or kids after they’ve turned; but in reality, most people would be way too grossed out by the idea of being eaten, or having a dead, decaying, smelly piece of flesh around.

12. Zombies are clearly sick

Nowadays, you never know if the other person is only a little bit sick, but maybe you could die? Maybe you’re in the 0,2% for which this is fatal? All this talk of “asymptomatic” carriers has only raised the fear levels so much more! Also - no more “is the virus real?” debates!

13. You won’t be punished for helping another human being

You will be punished for helping in the current crisis however! If the person is a little bit sick, or even really sick, but can get better, then shouldn’t you help them? It makes sense that you’d say yes, but instead we get quarantined for exposure or contact. Put into a facility for at least 14 days. With zombies you know you can’t help and so you won’t be tempted to try. Once they’ve been bitten, they’re done.

14. You won’t be punished for hanging out with friends

In fact, friends are encouraged as a necessary means of survival. Now, if you’re simply in the vicinity of someone who is suspected to have Coldemort (the-illness-that-shall-not-be-named), you can earn 14 days in quarantine.

15. You can get a machete

When the zombie really annoys you, chop its head off. It’s that easy. Apparently we’ll get into trouble if we do that in the current climate. More’s the pity ;)

16. You get to be badass!

Seriously, who doesn’t want to walk around with two zombies tied to chains, à la Michone? Instead, we’re all just sitting at home, waiting for our governments to steal more of our liberties.

17. Everyone would be on the same page

You don’t have to try and convince anyone of what’s going on. People are clear: zombies bad. See zombie? RUN!

18. You’d be safe on the Internet

If the Internet was still running, you be safe on it. Now simply liking a post can set you in the sights of cancel culture and the outrage mob.

19. Nobody would be trying to vaccinate or chip us

Yes, you’d be fleeing a horde of bloodthirsty zombies, but at least your eternal soul would not be in peril. Also, some people are really scared of injections!

20. No more masks!

Masks don’t protect against bites. And the zombie virus isn’t airborne. We’d finally all be able to breathe freely again! Not sure how good the rotting corpses would smell though.

21. People would social distance voluntarily

You wouldn’t have to ask people twice to stay away from the infected. Social distancing, in this instance, would take care of itself.

22. You wouldn’t still have to work

One of the clear things we thought the end of the world would bring, would be an end to the 9-to-5 grind. But no luck there hey! So in the midst of all the craziness, you still have work stuff to deal with - and now business is even harder to find.

23. You’d have less relatives

Yes, they might all have turned into zombies, but at least your relatives won’t be moving into your house because they’ve all lost their jobs.

24. We’d finally realize money means nothing

We wouldn’t be talking about the worst recession ever, 300-million extra people dying of hunger, and millions of job losses. It would be tough to be on the run yes, but in a way, what we’re facing in the next few months is going to be way tougher.

#zombie #zombies #apocalypse #apocalyptic #2020 #lockdown #quarantine #the walking dead #zombieland 2 #i am legend #coronapocalypse #covidmemes #covid2020

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seriouslyhooked · 7 years

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Wedded Bliss and Asterisks (A Modern CS AU) Part 2/?

Emma Swan is an enemy of love who just happens to be an up and coming wedding dress designer. She’s convinced that a fairytale kind of romance is nowhere in her future but when she meets Killian Jones, whose magazine is covering the opening of her new boutique, things change. Suddenly Emma finds herself drawing up new plans for her life, ones that seem to all be leading towards her own form of wedded bliss. Rated M.

Part One Here. Also on FF Here.

A/N: I just want to start by thanking all of you who reviewed and commented for the lovely response to the start of this story! As promised, this chapter brings us Killian’s POV and as such we can see that this is hardly a one-sided infatuation. Hopefully you all enjoy and let me know what you think!

Killian Jones had a million and one things on his plate. That was the nature of his job, as the editor in chief of Citizen NY. His time was rarely his own, thousands of people depended on him, and the absolute perfect story was always just out of reach. There was always something else coming down the pike that was bigger and better and that needed to be uncovered by his team, so try as he might Killian could never clear the ledger. There would always be more to do and achieve and aspire to.

Despite the hectic pace Killian loved that part of his work, this need to constantly be on the go was familiar to him and brought comfort when to most people it would bring nothing but pain and stress. He was good at this, finding a kind of adrenaline rush in getting the magazine to press each week and pursuing the best stories, the best photographers, and the best artists to be a part of this publication that was by all accounts his living legacy. It was always tasking to get each issue off the ground despite the bevy of support he had from his more than competent staff and often-silent co-owners. This was hardly a low-stress industry and that was just the way Killian liked it.

There was only one slight hiccup in the normal current of his life and it had been present for a few months now, or rather she had been present: the transfixing women on the train who held more life in those wide green eyes of hers then he’d witnessed ever before. It was his job to know people, to see things, to chronicle for the record big moments and important figures, to set tastes and frame the narrative, but there was just something about her that outshone all that.

Case in point here he was, swamped on a day where there were deadlines and meetings a plenty and all he could think of was that enigmatic look she’d sent his way hours ago and the way her voice washed across his skin when she spoke to their fellow passenger about the drawing she was working on. On the one hand Killian had been elated – the siren had spoken and that was a gift indeed, but it wasn’t to him, much as he wanted it to be.

It also wasn’t enough. Killian didn’t know much of anything about her, not where she worked or if she actually utilized whatever kind of drawings the man commented on this morning for said occupation. He didn’t even know her name, but it didn’t matter. He’d been granted a snapshot into who she was by riding the train alongside her and what he saw through that window was fast becoming the highlight of his world. How could a practical stranger feel like the most important thing in his life when he had all this? He didn’t know the answer. All Killian knew was there was this sense of loss in moments like this one when he wasn’t in her presence.

Just get to the end of the day, Jones. She’ll be waiting for you then. The thought brightened Killian’s mood substantially even if he knew he should be embarrassed about the power one perfect stranger held over his emotions.

For a long time now, this mystery woman had been the deciding factor in the worth of any given day. The best successes at work were always heightened by the glimpse of her smile or undone by her absence from the line, and afternoons spent talking budgets or quarterly meetings were vastly improved by the moment their eyes caught across the train car.

It was borderline ridiculous really, how enamored Killian was with the entrancing blonde who happened to ride the same train as him day in and day out, but it couldn’t be helped. There was just something about her that called to him and that made the rest of the world fall away. The all-consuming business of his life, the break-neck pace that he kept to make his magazine and his company a success, it gave way to her. She was the answer to problems he hadn’t even realized he was grappling with.

“Mr. Jones?” Killian’s head snapped towards the speaker on his desk through which his assistant (who everyone fondly referred to as Tink) spoke. He picked up the phone and smiled as he replied.

“Let me guess: there’s someone in the waiting room who would find it suspicious if you called me by any of those mocking nicknames you’ve so kindly bestowed on me with Will?”

“Yes, sir. You’re brother is here, hoping to speak with you before the meeting.”

Killian bit back a groan. He loved Liam, he really did, but in the midst of a day like this when two of his head columnists had called out for personal matters, the printers were citing technical difficulties, and he’d only managed to have three cups of coffee, Killian didn’t want to deal with his brother. Not that he had much of a choice, seeing as his brother was largely in charge of the family fund that made all of this possible. He was a silent investor in Citizen NY (just as Killian was) come to check on his investment. That he’d decided to ambush Killian wasn’t a surprise. Liam was a shrewd businessman and more than a little tough on Killian hoping to see him succeed.

“Send him in then.” Tink agreed and in a moment his doorway was filled with his brother’s frame and appraising look. Liam glanced around their surroundings, not intending to scrutinize, but doing it all the same and then he turned to Killian and continued his silent analysis.

“Liam, it’s good to see you.”

“No it isn’t. It’s a damn tedious headache in the scheme of your day and you know it.”

Killian grinned at that and Liam did the same, pulling Killian in for a brisk hug. Some of the tension was cut away now but Liam’s mission, whatever it was, hadn’t changed. If Killian knew his brother (and he did very well) then whatever it was would remain the forefront of the meeting no matter what.

“Blunt as always, brother. Let me rephrase: What can I do for you on this rather unfortunately crazed day?” Liam took a seat and Killian did the same back around his desk.

“Just coming to check in. I was hoping you’d changed your mind about all this, but with the returns I just got from the quarterly report I doubt that’s likely.” Hardly. Nevertheless Killian was surprised at the semi-direct praise. Liam must really be impressed if he’d even given credence to the profit Citizen turned.

“So if you knew that then why come at all?” Liam cleared his throat and straightened up some from his already immaculate posture in his chair. This meant he was finally ready to get down to business.

“It’s come to my attention that we’re approaching a crossroad.”

“Is that right?” Killian asked, thrown off slightly by his brother’s sudden flustered expression. Usually Liam was the picture of austere control. Right now though he seemed younger and a bit bashful, which Killian was completely astounded by.

“Aye. Oh I’ll just come right out and say it. Neither of us is getting any younger and I think it’s time we both of us settled down.”

A beat past and then another before Killian broke and found himself laughing harder than he had in a very long time. This was an absolutely phenomenally delivered joke and Killian couldn’t help but laugh heartily at it. His brother, the adamantly work-oriented control freak, was thinking of settling down? That was jus too rich. But when Killian collected himself again Liam remained there completely unimpressed. Only then did it begin to dawn on him that Liam might actually mean it.

“You’re serious?” Killian couldn’t believe it.

“I am. I’ve consulted an elite relationship consultant -,” Oh Jesus.

“You mean a matchmaker.” Liam blinked at the interruption. “Just call it what it is, brother.” Liam ignored that request entirely and pressed on.

“I’ve given her our requirements and backgrounds. She’s come back with some suggestions. Five for each of us.”

“Oh it’s us now, is it?” Liam harrumphed at that. “Have you actually gone mad?”

Killian didn’t know why he even bothered to ask the question. If Liam thought it was at all appropriate or necessary for him to look not only for a wife for himself but for Killian too then he was more than daft. And what was all this talk about requirements? Did Liam really expect Killian to consider such a scheme, one where they bulleted out lists of what the ideal woman might consist of? It was sheer nonsense and he wanted absolutely no bloody part of it.

“It’s a smart move, Killian, a wise investment in the future of our company and our family.”

“Can you hear yourself right now, brother? You’re looking at marriage like it’s a business. It’s not some bloody contract negotiation.” Killian realized too soon that he’d allowed Liam an in with that metaphor.

“That’s literally what a marriage is, Killian. The service guarantees companionable compatibility and discreteness -,”

“Let me just stop you right there, Liam. There is no way in hell that I am ever submitting myself to such an arrangement and I know, you fancy yourself a man above emotion, but even you deserve actual love, brother. Not some woman who fits you on paper, but one who means the world for reasons you can’t explain. You won’t find that this way. You’ll be settling for less than what makes marriage worth it.”

Killian expected coldness or maybe anger at his rebuttal but what he didn’t expect was a smile to appear after Liam had a moment to digest Killian’s words. His brother leaned back and grinned like the cat who caught the damn canary. It was unsettling and Killian felt himself go red, which only added to Liam’s delighted response.

“You’ve already found someone and you didn’t tell me!” Busted. Killian was so totally busted.

“I beg your pardon?” The feigned ignorance didn’t work at all and Liam just steamrolled over his questioning tone.

“So either you’re embarrassed of her or you haven’t told her how you feel. I almost hope it’s the former. If it’s the latter we are in rougher shape then I expected.” Killian ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

“I never said anything about finding someone at all.” It was a weak reply and Killian knew it. Liam looked liable to contradict and dig for more when a knock sounded at the door and Tink’s head popped in.

“I’m sorry, sir, but you have that staff meeting starting.”

Killian hoped his relief wasn’t incredible obvious but in many ways his prayers had been answered. He was spared this conversation with his brother, who Killian was convinced was actually a little crazy. Who was this man hell-bent on matrimony and what had he done with his elder brother? Liam meanwhile stood up and buttoned his jacket back up, that shit eating grin still plastered on his smug face.

“When I get back from London you’ll introduce us.” Introduce them? Killian hadn’t even said a word to the woman in question. What was he going to do, walk up to her with a smile and an offer to meet his family day one? Not bloody likely.

“No I won’t.”

“Oh yes you will, or I start making these little visits a daily occurrence.” Killian groaned.

“Don’t you have an empire to oversee?” Liam laughed and slapped a hand on Killian’s shoulder.

“Sometimes work can wait.” Killian scoffed.

“Since when?”

“Since right now.”

With that Liam left and Tink stared after him, clearly surprised at the lingering smile. It was so rare an occurrence that she probably hadn’t witnessed it in all the years she worked for Killian. He understood the feeling. Everything his brother had just said left him relatively shell shocked despite years of thinking himself beyond being surprised. Killian was still staring after Liam and fighting off ideas of introducing him to the woman on the train (which was actually certifiable since she probably wanted nothing to do with him) when Tink spoke out, pulling him to the present.

“You okay?” Killian nodded as he buttoned his suit and readied himself to head to the meeting.

“Aye. Just Liam being Liam.” Tink nodded as if she understood though Killian wasn’t sure anyone could.

“You know there’s a foolproof way to assure him right?” Killian raised a brow at her statement. Did she listen in somehow to the meeting? No, she couldn’t have and even if she could Tink wasn’t that kind of employee.

“Is there now?”

“Well according to Ariel in the marketing office we could sell an extra ten thousand subscriptions easy if you included a photo of yourself on the letter from the editor.”

Killian barked out a laugh appreciating the joke from Tink and glad for the fact that she didn’t actually know what the meeting was really regarding. He played along with her jest, however, not interested in hashing out the true cause for his brother’s bizarre visit.

“If Liam isn’t reassured by our already fantastic earnings then nothing will change his mind, love, not even my smiling face winning hearts across the city.”

“All right, all right, no need to get a big head about it. It was just a thought.” Killian shook his head as he smiled and they departed for the meeting, finding that the conference room was already full of people all waiting for him.

“Right then. Let’s just jump right in. Where are we at with the next issue?”

“What, no hello?” Killian smirked at his second in command, Will Scarlet, who sat across from him at the other head of the table with a smile on his face.

“Hello. Now, status updates?”

Will sighed dramatically as some people around the table laughed, but Killian knew underneath Will’s goofy and comedic exterior was a man just as driven and focused as him. They had been best mates since childhood and though Killian never understood how Will managed to be so good humored all the time, he respected it. It made for a more relaxed chain of command. His friend had found a sweet spot between demanding the best of their employees and still keeping things light enough to not make the work a chore.

“Everything is all set for this issue. No last minute headaches despite the staff changes. We’re in good shape. As for next issue… we’ve got a couple of holes to fill most notably features.”

“What happened to the piece on that guy trying to build a castle on eighteenth?” Killian looked over to Sydney, the man who’d been writing said piece.

“Just got sued for fraud, all assets frozen, so bye-bye castle.”

“Well that’s shit luck. Okay so what else have we got?”

A few of Killian’s writers pitched ideas but none of them felt right. He’d learned to trust his instincts on matters like this and he had a pretty good read on the public and their audience in particular. He wanted something fresh but approachable. This was a feature and it should tell a story that was unique but identifiable.

“I might have something… but it isn’t fully developed. I was thinking of saving it for a while but it actually might be better to do it now.”

Killian looked to one of his newer writers, Belle French, who was seated only a few spots away from him. She had been hired less than a year ago from a bigger publication. She was a definite asset to their team and her best skill was her ability to be discerning. Belle didn’t follow a story for the sake of filling pages. If she had a hunch, he was willing to follow it.

“Hit me.” She smiled and laid it out for them all.

“There’s a new place, not too far from here actually, that’s a one stop shop for weddings: planning, cakes, dresses, media announcements you name it...” Killian found himself interrupting despite his usual tendency to listen fully.

“Matchmakers?” Belle smirked and shook her head.

“No, but I’ll pass along the suggestion. That would be a riot. Anyway, they even have an in-house dress designer. She’s fantastic, a rising star and easily the biggest selling point.”

“Who is it?” One of the women asked across the table and Belle replied but at that moment Killian’s phone buzzed with a text from Liam.

L: Two weeks brother. I mean it!

Killian cursed, and put his phone away, apologizing. He’d missed the name of the designer, but it didn’t matter. Her name was a mere detail, and it was clear from some of the new excitement around the room that there was name recognition there.

“Sounds good. But is it a story?” Belle smiled and leaned forward a bit, eager to tell them all.

“That’s the thing. They’re all friends. They met day one of college orientation and they’re all incredibly different. One’s old money from Newport, another was in the foster system. But they’re confident enough to launch something like this and from everything I read online their first day has been going great.”

“How do you know all this? What’s your in?”

“I met one of the friends through her last job. She might have more industry contacts then I do.” Killian chuckled at the thought. It was very unlikely, after all, given Belle’s resume.

“And it’s never been done? There aren’t any other one-stop-shops for marital bliss?” Belle shook her head, smirking at his phrasing.

“Not like this there aren’t.” Killian nodded.

“Then run with it, but keep me updated.”

“Will do boss.” Killian noticed the clock at that moment across the room and promptly jumped from his seat. It was later than he’d expected and time to get home. If he didn’t hurry he was going to be late for his train.

“Okay then. That’ll be all today. See you all tomorrow.” With that everyone was dismissed but as Killian rushed down the hall, he was stopped by a smiling Will.

“You’re certainly in a hurry mate. Afraid you’ll miss the train? You do realize you have a company car at your disposal, and oh wait, any of the dozen cars your brother has to choose from.” Killian grumbled about his friend being too nosey for his own good.

“I’m watching my carbon footprint.” That was a lie and the truth was he’d gone on the train one week because his car had been in the shop and had stumbled upon his own personal angel. The want to drive never returned and he’d been train bound ever since.

“Bull shit! What’s it really about? You join one of those performance troops or something? Are you a flash-mobber now? Or perhaps mariachi is more your speed.” Killian rolled his eyes as he grabbed his bag and made sure he had everything before walking out of his door again.

“You’re looking for an angle that isn’t there.” Will laughed again, following Killian as he moved through the floor.

“Now you’re lying to me?! You know that’s only going to make it worse, right? I’m a journalist. It’s my nature to investigate when someone doesn’t want me to.” Killian’s prayers for a quick elevator wait were answered when the moment he pressed the button the door opened.

“So I should start digging deeper into the feelings you have for Belle?” Will blanched as Killian stepped into the elevator car and he smirked. “Yeah I know about it, and no it’s not obvious. Just a reminder not to come at me of all people with that kind of threat.”

“Whatever it is, it must be good,” Will said after collecting himself and Killian couldn’t help but think that his stranger was better than good. She was perfect.

“Goodnight, Will.”

The doors closed as his friend waved goodbye and Killian moved quickly from there. He wove through the street down the block to the station and managed to get there just in time to make his usual train. It brought a sense of profound relief and then excitement in its least tamed form. The adrenaline rushed to the surface and as the train car moved to her stop and all he could hope was that she’d be here, than he’d catch a glimpse of the woman who was never far from his thoughts in their days and nights apart.

When her stop arrived Killian was worried that she wouldn’t come, but after an influx of people before her, he spotted her golden hair tied back tight. He was spellbound by her but he had to try and keep his cool. He realized that was likely impossible, and there was a very good chance the lady was simply too kind or too wary of his constant leering to say anything, but he attempted to be discrete as she found a spot across the car.

God she’s gorgeous.

The thought was an obvious one, but it couldn’t be denied. Killian worked with words for a living but they failed them when it came to her. She so far superseded radiant or magnificent. She deserved a language all her own and as her attention turned from the car around them to her drawing pad Killian felt freer to observe her. He must have lost himself in the process though, for a few moments later he felt an arm shoving into him from the seat beside where he was standing.

“Are you just going to stare at her all night, or are you going to man up and introduce yourself?”

Killian stammered a bit in reply at the old woman who had chastised him and he looked to the man beside her who only shrugged and smiled as he held the woman’s hand.

“My wife doesn’t have great manners, but she does have a point.”

Killian was a bit thrown by having someone actually speak to him on the train (he would bet anything that they were tourists) but his eyes naturally moved back to his stranger. This time, however, her eyes were on his and a moment past where the whole world simultaneously clicked into place and fell away entirely. He was tangled up in a host of feelings he was unfamiliar with that always found him when she was near. There was need and desire, wonder and awe, but there was something deeper, a sensation that they knew each other or that they were meant to.

“What are you waiting for?” The old lady whispered and Killian cleared his throat.

Fuck it. I’ll never know if she’s interested unless I ask, right? Besides Liam will use that weird new sixth sense of his to muck up my life somehow if I don’t.

Killian was about to get it together and actually move her way when the shrill ring of a phone cut through the whirring ambient hum of the train. He was remiss to find that it was hers, but there was a slight balm on his feelings when he heard her answer. Despite the bit of bite he could hear in her words, it was still the most surreally beautiful sound he’d ever heard.

“Ruby, I was just there. What could possibly have gone wrong since I left?” Killian stood there paralyzed and he dropped his gaze. It moved back to the older couple and the woman tutted remorsefully.

“Well that’s just bad luck. Perhaps she’ll hang up before your stop.” At that moment the bell sounded and the automated voice sounded out his station.

“Unfortunately not.” Killian was about to move towards the door when the old man spoke once more and left him with some final words.

“Take my advice, son. We only get so many tomorrows. You gotta make the most of them.” Killian nodded and bid the couple goodnight but as he slipped out the door and took one last look at the train, he swore that the woman looked as sorry to see him go as he was to leave her.

That’s it. Tomorrow this ends. Tomorrow I man up and ask her to dinner.

The resolution in his chest was empowering and with this new path decided on, Killian felt better than he had in a long time. There was a not so subtle sense of hope that clung to him from the train to his home and then well into the night. Because maybe, just maybe, being brave would pay off and he’d get the chance not just to admire this woman but to know her too, and Killian could hardly think of a single thing in the world that he wanted more than that.

Post-Note: So this story is coming to me in waves but it’s so nice to be at the start of a plotline again. Anything is possible and nothing is set in stone (except for the fact that CS end up happy and there’s lots of smuff along the way). I know some of you are probably a little impatient and were wishing for more meaningful contact between our two heroes this week, but next week will bring that for us. I wouldn’t call this a slow burn so much as a slow-for-me-burn. Anyway, thank you all so much for reading and let me know what you think! I love the feedback and am so interested in hearing what you all are hoping/imagining for the story.

#captain swan #cs modern au #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan au #cs au #cs fic #cs ff #cs fluff #emma swan #killian jones #will scarlet #belle french #liam jones #ouat au #wedded bliss and asterisks #wedded bliss 2 #cs multichapter #cs mc

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newstfionline · 6 years

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Infinite War: The Gravy Train Rolls On

By Andrew J. Bacevich, TomDispatch, June 8, 2018

“The United States of Amnesia.” That’s what Gore Vidal once called us. We remember what we find it convenient to remember and forget everything else. That forgetfulness especially applies to the history of others. How could their past, way back when, have any meaning for us today? Well, it just might. Take the European conflagration of 1914-1918, for example.

You may not have noticed. There’s no reason why you should have, fixated as we all are on the daily torrent of presidential tweets. But let me note for the record that the centenary of the conflict once known as The Great War is well underway and before the present year ends will have concluded.

Indeed, a hundred years ago this month, the 1918 German Spring Offensive--codenamed Operation Michael--was sputtering to an unsuccessful conclusion. A last desperate German gamble, aimed at shattering Allied defenses and gaining a decisive victory, had fallen short. In early August of that year, with large numbers of our own doughboys now on the front lines, a massive Allied counteroffensive was to commence, continuing until the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month, when an armistice finally took effect and the guns fell silent.

In the years that followed, Americans demoted The Great War. It became World War I, vaguely related to but overshadowed by the debacle next in line, known as World War II. Today, the average citizen knows little about that earlier conflict other than that it preceded and somehow paved the way for an even more brutal bloodletting. Also, on both occasions, the bad guys spoke German.

So, among Americans, the war of 1914-1918 became a neglected stepsister of sorts, perhaps in part because the United States only got around to suiting up for that conflict about halfway through the fourth quarter. With the war of 1939-1945 having been sacralized as the moment when the Greatest Generation saved humankind, the war-formerly-known-as-The-Great-War collects dust in the bottom drawer of American collective consciousness.

From time to time, some politician or newspaper columnist will resurrect the file labeled “August 1914,” the grim opening weeks of that war, and sound off about the dangers of sleepwalking into a devastating conflict that nobody wants or understands.

Yet a different aspect of World War I may possess even greater relevance to the American present. I’m thinking of its duration: the longer it lasted, the less sense it made. But on it went, impervious to human control like the sequence of Biblical plagues that God had inflicted on the ancient Egyptians.

So the relevant question for our present American moment is this: once it becomes apparent that a war is a mistake, why would those in power insist on its perpetuation, regardless of costs and consequences? In short, when getting in turns out to have been a bad idea, why is getting out so difficult, even (or especially) for powerful nations that presumably should be capable of exercising choice on such matters? Or more bluntly, how did the people in charge during The Great War get away with inflicting such extraordinary damage on the nations and peoples for which they were responsible?

For those countries that endured World War I from start to finish--especially Great Britain, France, and Germany--specific circumstances provided their leaders with an excuse for suppressing second thoughts about the cataclysm they had touched off.

Among them were:

* mostly compliant civilian populations deeply loyal to some version of King and Country, further kept in line by unremitting propaganda that minimized dissent;

* draconian discipline--deserters and malingerers faced firing squads--that maintained order in the ranks (most of the time) despite the unprecedented scope of the slaughter;

* the comprehensive industrialization of war, which ensured a seemingly endless supply of the weaponry, munitions, and other equipment necessary for outfitting mass conscript armies and replenishing losses as they occurred.

Economists would no doubt add sunk costs to the mix. With so much treasure already squandered and so many lives already lost, the urge to press on a bit longer in hopes of salvaging at least some meager benefit in return for what (and who) had been done in was difficult to resist.

Even so, none of these, nor any combination of them, can adequately explain why, in the midst of an unspeakable orgy of self-destruction, with staggering losses and nations in ruin, not one monarch or president or premier had the wit or gumption to declare: Enough! Stop this madness!

Instead, the politicians sat on their hands while actual authority devolved onto the likes of British Field Marshal Sir Douglas Haig, French Marshals Ferdinand Foch and Philippe Petain, and German commanders Paul von Hindenburg and Erich Ludendorff. In other words, to solve a conundrum they themselves had created, the politicians of the warring states all deferred to their warrior chieftains. For their part, the opposing warriors jointly subscribed to a perverted inversion of strategy best summarized by Ludendorff as “punch a hole [in the front] and let the rest follow.” And so the conflict dragged on and on.

Put simply, in Europe, a hundred years ago, war had become politically purposeless. Yet the leaders of the world’s principal powers--including, by 1917, U.S. President Woodrow Wilson--could conceive of no alternative but to try harder, even as the seat of Western civilization became a charnel house.

Only one leader bucked the trend: Vladimir Lenin. In March 1918, soon after seizing power in Russia, Lenin took that country out of the war. In doing so, he reasserted the primacy of politics and restored the possibility of strategy. Lenin had his priorities straight. Nothing in his estimation took precedence over ensuring the survival of the Bolshevik Revolution. Liquidating the war against Germany therefore became an imperative.

Allow me to suggest that the United States should consider taking a page out of Lenin’s playbook. Granted, prior to the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991, such a suggestion might have smacked of treason. Today, however, in the midst of our never-ending efforts to expunge terrorism, we might look to Lenin for guidance on how to get our priorities straight.

As was the case with Great Britain, France, and Germany a century ago, the United States now finds itself mired in a senseless war. Back then, political leaders in London, Paris, and Berlin had abrogated control of basic policy to warrior chieftains. Today, ostensibly responsible political leaders in Washington have done likewise. Some of those latter-day American warrior chieftains who gather in the White House or testify on Capitol Hill may wear suits rather than uniforms, but all remain enamored with the twenty-first-century equivalent of Ludendorff’s notorious dictum.

Of course, our post-9/11 military enterprise--the undertaking once known as the Global War on Terrorism--differs from The Great War in myriad ways. The ongoing hostilities in which U.S. forces are involved in various parts of the Islamic world do not qualify, even metaphorically, as “great.” Nor will there be anything great about an armed conflict with Iran, should members of the current administration get their apparent wish to provoke one.

Today, Washington need not even bother to propagandize the public into supporting its war. By and large, members of the public are indifferent to its very existence. And given our reliance on a professional military, shooting citizen-soldiers who want to opt out of the fight is no longer required.

There are also obvious differences in scale, particularly when it comes to the total number of casualties involved. Cumulative deaths from the various U.S. interventions, large and small, undertaken since 9/11, number in the hundreds of thousands. The precise tally of those lost during the European debacle of 1914-1918 will never be known, but the total probably surpassed 13 million.

Even so, similarities between the Great War as it unspooled and our own not-in-the-least-great war(s) deserve consideration. Today, as then, strategy--that is, the principled use of power to achieve the larger interests of the state--has ceased to exist. Indeed, war has become an excuse for ignoring the absence of strategy.

For years now, U.S. military officers and at least some national security aficionados have referred to ongoing military hostilities as “the Long War.” To describe our conglomeration of spreading conflicts as “long” obviates any need to suggest when or under what circumstances (if any) they might actually end. It’s like the meteorologist forecasting a “long winter” or the betrothed telling his or her beloved that theirs will be a “long engagement.” The implicit vagueness is not especially encouraging.

Some high-ranking officers of late have offered a more forthright explanation of what “long” may really mean. In the Washington Post, the journalist Greg Jaffe recently reported that “winning for much of the U.S. military’s top brass has come to be synonymous with staying put.” Winning, according to Air Force General Mike Holmes, is simply “not losing. It’s staying in the game.”

Not so long ago, America’s armed forces adhered to a concept called victory, which implied conclusive, expeditious, and economical mission accomplished. No more. Victory, it turns out, is too tough to achieve, too restrictive, or, in the words of Army Lieutenant General Michael Lundy, “too absolute.” The United States military now grades itself instead on a curve. As Lundy puts it, “winning is more of a continuum,” an approach that allows you to claim mission accomplishment without, you know, actually accomplishing anything.

It’s like soccer for six-year-olds. Everyone tries hard so everyone gets a trophy. Regardless of outcomes, no one goes home feeling bad. In the U.S. military’s case, every general gets a medal (or, more likely, a chest full of them).

“These days,” in the Pentagon, Jaffe writes, “senior officers talk about ‘infinite war.’”

I would like to believe that Jaffe is pulling our leg. But given that he’s a conscientious reporter with excellent sources, I fear he knows what he’s talking about. If he’s right, as far as the top brass are concerned, the Long War has now officially gone beyond long. It has been deemed endless and is accepted as such by those who preside over its conduct.

In truth, infinite war is a strategic abomination, an admission of professional military bankruptcy. Erster General-Quartiermeister Ludendorff might have endorsed the term, but Ludendorff was a military fanatic.

Check that. Infinite war is a strategic abomination except for arms merchants, so-called defense contractors, and the “emergency men” (and women) devoted to climbing the greasy pole of what we choose to call the national security establishment. In other words, candor obliges us to acknowledge that, in some quarters, infinite war is a pure positive, carrying with it a promise of yet more profits, promotions, and opportunities to come. War keeps the gravy train rolling. And, of course, that’s part of the problem.

Who should we hold accountable for this abomination? Not the generals, in my view. If they come across as a dutiful yet unimaginative lot, remember that a lifetime of military service rarely nurtures imagination or creativity. And let us at least credit our generals with this: in their efforts to liberate or democratize or pacify or dominate the Greater Middle East they have tried every military tactic and technique imaginable. Short of nuclear annihilation, they’ve played just about every card in the Pentagon’s deck--without coming up with a winning hand. So they come and go at regular intervals, each new commander promising success and departing after a couple years to make way for someone else to give it a try.

No, it’s not the generals who have let us down, but the politicians to whom they supposedly report and from whom they nominally take their orders. Of course, under the heading of politician, we quickly come to our current commander-in-chief. Yet it would be manifestly unfair to blame President Trump for the mess he inherited, even if he is presently engaged in making matters worse.

The failure is a collective one, to which several presidents and both political parties have contributed over the years. Although the carnage may not be as horrific today as it was on the European battlefields on the Western and Eastern Fronts, members of our political class are failing us as strikingly and repeatedly as the political leaders of Great Britain, France, and Germany failed their peoples back then.

Congressional midterm elections are just months away and another presidential election already looms. Who will be the political leader with the courage and presence of mind to declare: “Enough! Stop this madness!” Man or woman, straight or gay, black, brown, or white, that person will deserve the nation’s gratitude and the support of the electorate.

Until that occurs, however, the American penchant for war will stretch on toward infinity. No doubt Saudi and Israeli leaders will cheer, Europeans who remember their Great War will scratch their heads in wonder, and the Chinese will laugh themselves silly. Meanwhile, issues of genuinely strategic importance--climate change offers one obvious example--will continue to be treated like an afterthought. As for the gravy train, it will roll on.

#war #US wars #infinite war

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100wordanime · 6 years

Text

No matter what we say or what brave face we put on as we go to do battle with the world beyond, the undeniable truth is reality is tough. Some days it is tougher than others and some days you are better equipped than others to deal with it, but we’ve all had that moment where retreating underneath the covers and shutting out the rest of the world seems like a really good idea.

And this is where we meet Rei Kiriyama, the protagonist of March Comes in Like a Lion. While not always literally, Rei begins season one by hiding away from the world and shutting himself away inside. I’ve said from the beginning, that one of the things that draws me into this show, actually the main draw for me, is how incredibly I connect with Rei as a character. The way his emotions are shown and conveyed really speaks to me and as a result it makes the viewing experience something far more than entertainment.

Watching the series is confronting and hard and it tackles major social issues of isolation, depression, mental health and bullying and it takes them head on without holding back. It is a stunning example of what stories can do (though I would point out that I personally believe that entertaining stories that let you sit back, relax and talk and laugh with friends have equal value and should not be dismissed just because they aren’t shattering your heart in two every other week).

I’ve already written quite a bit about this series so this post I want to focus specifically on the idea of stagnation and how this relates to the show, to life and to blogging. This is going to be quite a personal post because this show brings that out in me, so sorry for the ramble but I kind of felt it was needed.

Some other Posts Featuring March Comes in Like a Lion (worth every word):

Tuesday’s Top 5: Visually Interesting Anime in 2017

Reflections on Anime in 2017 – The Best and The Worst of the Year (in my opinion and the reader’s choice)

Friday’s Feature: There Are Many Ways To Appreciate Anime

Friday’s Feature: Do You Like To Look In The Mirror?

Friday’s Feature: Constructing Characters Through Visuals in Anime

March Comes in Like a Lion Series Review

Despite what outward appearances might suggest, Rei starts the series having achieved incredible success. He is one of the youngest to ever become a pro-shogi player and he is financially supporting himself (though probably not actually taking care of himself if his refrigerator is anything to go by). He’s climbed some incredibly high mountains and battled his way past so many obstacles. Losing his family, being socially awkward, his foster family situation and other issues have all given him baggage to haul as he continues to fight his way forward. So it shouldn’t come as any surprise that he is faltering and finding it harder and harder to find a reason to move on.

This is perfectly visualised by the series (through one of its many incredibly apt visual metaphors) as Rei fighting his way through the ocean current and finally reaching the shore. It isn’t where he wants to go and he isn’t overly happy there, but it has got him out of the water. He realises that he won’t have to fight anymore, to keep trying to push through, if he just accepts stagnation. Essentially, never moving any higher in the shogi world, never moving on in his personal relationships, but just pausing right where he is. It isn’t the peak of the mountain and it wasn’t the goal he set out looking for, but after the long and arduous fight that his whole life has become, it seems good enough. A security not worth risking for the chance of something better later on.

For me, this image was incredibly relatable and powerful. It hit me hard because it is more or less where I was before I started blogging nearly two years ago. I’d fought hard to reach certain goals and points in my professional and personal life and I’d reached reasonable stability in both and part of me was starting to think that maybe right there was good enough. The long battle, the huge hours, the exhaustion of dealing with others was all becoming quite overwhelming and there was this nice little plateau just waiting for me to settle in and make myself at home in embracing stagnation.

The thing I came to realise is that stagnation is an illusion. There is no happy resting place. The world and other people continue to move on and what I began to realise is that the fight to hold on to my little piece of comfort was becoming more exhausting than the journey forward might have been. Of course, just knowing what the problem was didn’t mean I had any clue as to how to solve it. I was at that point lost. Any goal I may have had disappeared beyond a horizon I couldn’t see and looking around at what I might head towards was just plain disorientating to the point where I basically wanted to retreat again.

It took a long time for me to find my way again, and I won’t lie, starting the blog was probably one of the best things I did as it gave me something clear to focus on and channel my energy into. It wasn’t the only thing that started to change for me but it was a big thing. But as that started opening me back up to people and to the world, I started to dive back into my work and looked at what I could do there and slowly but surely I found myself going full steam and climbing back up the mountain to a goal I still really can’t see, but that’s okay. The destination isn’t really the point. And I know I’ll fall and stumble and some-days a storm will come and batter me or someone climbing a neighbouring peak might toss a rock at me or maybe I’ll find my road blocked and have to back-track and go around, but I’m moving again and I’m really determined not to go back into power-saver mode. Some days that conviction is stronger than others. It’s a work in progress but that is life.

What is fantastic about this show is it isn’t a show about watching Rei get beaten down. We meet him in that state and certainly we do see him face set-backs. Some more dramatic than others.

This is a show about the journey to find a way forward and the people who help or hinder us on that journey and the way that we can choose to see the world. There are times when Rei’s outlook on life is very bleak. But even in the darkest episodes there are shining moments that keep him from slipping over the edge.

For me this is a show that embodies what it means to live and to face the world. While the actual context (high-school pro-shogi player battling depression) might be far removed from our daily lives, the understanding of how people perceive the world and how our perceptions are changed and coloured by the smallest of things is something that connects the audience to the characters in the show.

While Rei might have considered embracing stagnation at one point, he did continue onward and season 2 has seen that journey progress far beyond what I could have imagined when first meeting Rei back at the start of season 1. The arc where we saw Rei dealing with his emotions as he observed the impact of bullying on Hina is something truly special to watch and something I cannot recommend enough if you haven’t had the chance.

As I said at the beginning of this post, March Comes in Like a Lion is a confronting watch. But it isn’t the subject matter it presents that makes it so confronting. It is the emotions it forces us to confront within ourselves as we watch that really makes the viewing so incredibly unforgettable. While I might watch a lot of anime over the next decade or two, this is a show that I will never forget because it has moved me so many times and so many of the words and images have carved themselves inside of my mind.

I do understand that not every viewer will have that same experience. It is a deeply personal one and it is odd sometimes what connects with one person over another. But for me, this idea of stagnation and moving forward are what will always make this series one I will recommend without reservation, though with the small caution that if you are in the midst of a low point in your life this might be a little too confronting and might be one to put on hold.

Sorry for the overly personal post but I recently read a March Comes in Like a Lion Post from The AniWriter and it made me realise that I wanted to write about this anime again and in the absence of episodes to review during the winter Olympics I started thinking about what I really wanted to talk about with this show. Once I started writing I really had trouble stopping.

Thanks for reading.

Karandi James

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Friday's Feature: Finding the Path Beyond Stagnation No matter what we say or what brave face we put on as we go to do battle with the world beyond, the undeniable truth is reality is tough.

#anime #Feature #Friday&039;s Feature #March comes in like a lion #Mental Health #stagnation

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