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ingek73 · 3 years

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Juneteenth

STORY by Team at Archewell

Jun. 16, 2021

YOUNG POETS OF GET LIT SHARE POWERFUL WORDS TO COMMEMORATE THE DAY

In honor of Juneteenth, we, at Archewell, connected with our friends at Get Lit and asked them to share poetry to honor this important day. We hope their poignant words allow you to reflect on the significance of this newly declared federal holiday in the United States and its impact across this country and around the world.

AND HOLD, AND HOLD

CORTUNAY MINOR AND TAMIA JACKSON

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WHY THEY WROTE THIS POEM:

“When I wrote this poem, just a few weeks before June 15th, Juneteenth wasn’t yet a federal or national holiday. It wasn’t something I’d given much thought to, but when I had recognized that fact, it wasn’t information, it was confirmation. At first, I was upset about it. My immediate thoughts were along the lines of, ‘Where are our fireworks? Where’s our three-day weekend?’ But in reflection, I realized that this was demonstrating continued deference to a supposedly superior entity. Juneteenth isn’t the ‘Black Independence Day,’ it’s the only Independence Day. To have that nationally recognized feels amazing. But whether or not the date is printed in every calendar does not validate this holiday. We do.”

WHY SHE ANIMATED THIS PIECE:

“This poem, especially for Juneteenth, really inspired me. The color palette expresses the somber yet hopeful emotions that happen when black freedom is discussed, and what it means to be a Black individual in America. This poem as well as the visuals really emphasizes the impact that Black people have by simply existing, and the importance of our breath. We know that as long as we’re still breathing there can and will be change, and ultimately full freedom.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Cortunay Minor (she/they) is a performing artist who specializes in Stage Acting and Spoken Word Poetry. They are currently pursuing a bachelor’s degree in Theater from the UCLA School of Theater, Film, and Television. The theme and goal that Minor tries to hold in the heart of their artistry is liberation, be that emotional, intellectual, or otherwise. Expression and education are two of the most fruitful paths Minor has found that achieve that liberation, and she is immensely grateful to be able to participate in a craft that allows their simultaneous occurrence.

ABOUT THE ANIMATOR:

Tamia Jackson (animator) is a rising senior at the Rhode Island School of Design, receiving her BFA in Film/Animation/Video with a minor in Literary Arts and Studies. She has always been passionate in art, animation, and storytelling. She loves bringing stories of lesser voices, such as BIPOC, low income, female, etc., into a visual and cared-for light. Though not all of her stories or animations revolve around such identities, it is important that she shows diversity so that many people can relate and find comfort in the characters or art piece. Not only does Jackson enjoy spreading her own voice, but she also loves bringing others’ stories to life.

AND HOLD, AND HOLD

‘Holiday’ meaning ‘Holy Day’ meaning:

every second is sacred/every hour hibernates

within the spirit, huddled beneath the bosom.

To breathe is to commemorate:

inhale – exhale – cradle the thought – hold – and repeat.

When daybreak demotes breath to subconscious action,

the diaphragm still submits in reverence, still remembers that

This is Divine. This

is where jubilation begins:

in the suspension of

breathe in – breathe out – take maybe – and

forever hold the moment,

where the deferred dream stopped shriveling,

wavered in anticipation, remembered that expansion

can be soft,

recognized that it didn’t want soft

expansion.

Bodies were policied out of possession, but

the Black individual liberated their own being,

hollered themself out of state-sanctioned silence.

Words ignite, but presence sustains; this intake/expel maintains us

here

the dream explodes. The spirit absorbs the remnants and outpours,

‘holiday’ meaning ‘Holy Day’ meaning:

I hold this day as sovereign. Meaning:

I hope this day knows its home is in these lungs,

is in this breath, is in the repetition of:

inspire – expire – immortalize the memory – and hold – and hold – and release

POPLAR TREES

CYRUS ROBERTS

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WHY HE WROTE AND DIRECTED THIS POEM:

“It’s easy to say “slavery was an atrocity and we need to do better” but it’s much more difficult to say “slave masters ripped babies from their mothers and used them as crocodile bait for sport.” In the average American lexicon, phrases like ‘Never Forget’ are commonplace but are rarely attributed to periods of fundamental, ongoing violence of a racial nature for the simple fact that our pain makes the people who benefitted from that pain uncomfortable. For me Juneteenth is a day of mourning; the Confederate holidays still celebrated today seem like a gruesome counterbalance. So this is my eulogy to both the country and my own being that could have been.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Cyrus Roberts (he/him) writes, acts, and directs across poetry, theater, and film. While his work has been commissioned by organizations like Toms Shoes, Adidas, and March For Our Lives, he also enjoys working on cool independent projects, whether he’s self-publishing poetry compilations, creating movies with friends, or acting in his own plays. Roberts is currently a senior in UC Santa Barbara’s BFA Acting program. Look for him in the upcoming film Summertime, directed by Carlos Lopez Estrada. His assistant director on the project was Mattie Kranz.

POPLAR TREES

Before you there was me. But before me there was (Nina Simone audio: “black bodies swinging”). And that was the gentler time period. Everything base within you, reflected in your actions. Please don’t censor me when I mention how you wrangled our teeth from our mouths and used them to seduce your own illnesses into submission. Or how you took an interest in the skin that had a monopoly on sunlight and then took what you wanted underneath the moon. Or how you used our babies as crocodile bait and our skin as shoe leather. Look right into the eyes of our demise and try to say those times are past, that I’m being rash, that I’m being bad and so full of woe and I should be glad I’m writing this on my MacBook Pro. Yeah? Who am I to complain about slavery? Because it ended, right? On June 19, 1865, Union Army general Gordon Granger made his way to Texas and proclaimed slavery’s supposed fall and us colored folk supposed to have a ball? I mean it was two and a half years after Lincoln already announced it, but we needed a white man to tell other white men what another white man already said. I mean that is until that white man found himself dead and Reconstruction found itself at a head and chain gangs, sharecropping, Jim Crow, private prison options, perc popping, bodies dropping, cops still stopping, guns cocking to ensure that (Nina Simone audio: “black bodies swinging”). Every 19th of June we celebrate the end of chattel slavery and every 20th we’re back to fighting its descendants. Private prisons / a cop’s knee is a modern lynching / it ain’t my decision to get busy dyin’ or busy living / I paid attention, to all the digitized depictions / all the people packing up pensions while we’re backed up by the system. Put your back into the system, this is wack how mother’s missing their babies kisses and I’m supposed to be celebrating? I’m sorry. Will you forgive me, I’m jaded. My grandmother looks at me and says confidently that I made it. That she can’t possibly imagine the life that I’m living, I owe a debt to her generation, and I hope that I pay it. I just get so angry, hazy laughter at the thought of thoughts and prayers ending enslavement. So after you hear me, I’ll forgive you if you’re jaded. But you still need to know the history to have an appreciation. It’s no mystery why it’s a mystery present in our education, presently the gatekeepers keep us from it and it’s heinous. On Juneteenth, Americans across the nation eat red foods in honor of the blood spilled before and during emancipation, we celebrate the secondary, pushed-to-the-side independence day, but you don’t have to know our proclamations of jubilation for us to be heard. We will be heard in our voices screaming thanks that we are not treated as herd. We dance and we sing hymns of freedom. Freedom: absence of subjection to foreign domination or despotic government. Are my brothers and sisters in jail cells free? When there’s a glaring loophole in the 13th amendment smiling from cheek to cheek I’d imagine there’d be some incentive to ensure our purity is never free. And how can I be free when I can’t sleep because my dreams keep whispering I can’t breathe. Regardless of that fact, progress is still being made. But I fear progress is just an exchange of chains for other chains. Same way they changed our names for other names, I rest a bouquet on the graves of enslaved, singing regardless this day. In the hopes that I never again have to see (Nina Simone audio: “black bodies swinging”).

UNTITLED

SIERRA LEONE ANDERSON

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WHY SHE WROTE THIS POEM:

“When writing this poem, I really made an effort to think back to my ancestors. What was their impact? Who did they inspire? How did they carve the path for the road I now choose to take? This poem is about legacy. I am calling back to the ancestors before me to give me the strength and courage to be the ancestor I want to be to future generations.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Sierra Leone Anderson (poet) is a youth activist and professional spoken word artist from Los Angeles. Rooted in liberatory joy and armed with ancestral truth, Sierra Leone aims to bring light to the power of language, empowering Los Angeles youth of color to recognize the quantifiable influence of their voice. She has placed both second and first in Get Lit’s annual middle and high school Classic Slam respectively, co-wrote an article for the political column of USA Today, and has shared space with several influential changemakers including Dr. Melina Abdullah (co-founder of BLM-LA) and Cecily Myart-Cruz (president of UTLA). Her other organizing work includes collaborating with Students Deserve LA to make Black Lives Matter in and beyond schools. She is currently a ninth grade student at Girls Academic Leadership Academy and an avid lover of trashy teenage dramedies.

Her director and editor is Lukas Lane, an award-winning filmmaker and founding member of Literary Riot (started in his junior year of high school), and he is currently attending UC Berkeley.

UNTITLED

Every generation, the world gives birth to a new fleet of freedom fighters.

I am one of them.

I stand on the shoulders of tired women.

I dance in the footsteps of Pan-African poets, liberation fighters, and Black writers

who grew fires from a pit hungrier than a stomach. They call my name and I call theirs.

Malcolm X. Phyllis Wheatley. Maya Angelou. Sojourner Truth. Audre Lorde. Ida B. Wells.

Your resilience rivers through me. You are my founding fathers. The blueprint to a world we need to be brave enough to see, to seek.

Let us imagine a world in which we know each other’s palms

and never the fist. Not unless needed. Not unless united together.

Let us be the drum and not the war.

Let us know each other’s names and not the languages we cry in.

Let us be, let all us be more than a slave’s wildest dream

Let us beam past blueprints and what-ifs and start becoming the now we want to see, the now we want to be

Trees growing so far past the Earth, Allah would mistake our bodies for angels.

When I die, I want to ripple through lifetimes. I want my name to graffiti the mouths of the next 10 generations.

I don’t want to be forgotten. Or remembered for the way my feet wouldn’t stop running.

I wanna grow roots in this soil, in this American skin. Join the forest of my ancestors. Let my grandkids climb up my branches and tell stories of school.

And before the first pulse of morning, I want them to drip from their homes and gather at my roots.

I want to tell them my name before I forget it.

I want to tell them that morning is coming. And will always come. And will never wait for when you are ready.

I want to tell them that there is a point far beyond this tree, this forest, this temporary point in time, their bodies, their fears, their fathers, their memories. Where the sun is eternal and smiling. Where freedom rings and is never silent, never out of reach. It is called horizon. And it is right there.

#juneteenth #archewell #sierra leone anderson #cyrus roberts #cortunay minor #tamia jackson #get lit #poetry #poets #Youtube

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yourdailykitsch · 3 years

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Taylor Kitsch, an actor known for his roles in such Hollywood productions as "Battleship: Battle for Earth" and "X-Men Origins: Wolverine", is starring in the new Canal + series "Defeated". In an interview, the actor reveals what he remembers from history lessons, what connects the series' story with the modern world. He also explains why, according to him, every person should visit the former concentration camp of Auschwitz-Birkenau.

Taylor Kitsch started his adventure in Hollywood as a "hottie" - an actor associated with a great body and beautiful face. All because the first role that brought the popularity of the former model Abercrombie and Fitch was the character of naughty lover Tim Riggins in the cult series "Friday Night Lights".

Kitsch did not avoid tough moments in his career - for example, when the $ 250 million John Carter, his first such big role, suffered a disgusting box office failure. But the Canadian knew this taste already - after coming to the USA, he was homeless for some time before finding a job.

For years, he has been successfully playing in big titles and alongside big names. Oliver Stone ("Savages"), Ryan Murphy ("Heart Reflex"), roles alongside Chadwick Boseman ("21 Bridges"), Michael Shannon ("Waco"), Michael Keaton ("American Assassin") and Rihanna ("Battlefield ), the HBO series "Detective," starring Vince Vaughn and Rachel McAdams. Meanwhile, Kitsch finds his way to charity, especially for children.

From 1 January 2021, we will watch him in "Defeated" . There he plays the role of Brooklyn policeman Max McLoughlin, who in the summer of 1946 is sent to Berlin, which is divided into four spheres of influence. Its task is to support the emerging police structures in the rubble. But upholding order in a space of brutality and lawlessness and clashing political forces - French, American, British and Soviet - will not be easy. Especially since Max does not know that he is used as a pawn in the game to open the Cold War, and somewhere in the maze of Berlin rubble lurks his brother Moritz, a self-proclaimed Nazi hunter who will stop at nothing ...

In addition to Kitsch, the main roles will be: Nina Hoss (local policewoman Elsie Garten), Sebastian Koch (criminal known as Engelmacher, Al Capone of post-war Berlin), Logan Marshall-Green (Max's missing brother, Moritz) and Michael C. Hall (consul Tom Franklin ).

The "Defeated" takes place in Berlin, right after the war. When you decided to play Max McLoughlin, did you have any knowledge of what the situation in Germany was like then?

The seres begins six months after the end of the war. I have the impression that this is a moment that is missing in the educational process - we learn a lot about the war itself, but about what happened immediately after it, for example, I had no idea. The plot of "Defeated" is made up, but our director Måns Mårlind (co-creator of the hit series "Bridge over the Sund") constructed it on the basis of many true stories. I have the impression that fact and fiction are perfectly balanced here. In the process of preparation, he gave us many documentaries and articles that helped to build an idea about the climate of the city from 1946. Discovering the next details of the story was fascinating for me.

Your work gives him a chance to get to know the world, its history, extraordinary places and people. Do you appreciate it?

This is the best part of my job! With each new production, I have a chance to immerse myself in its world and get to know it thoroughly. It could be a war movie like "Survivor", a story about a cult leader ("Waco"), the world of a detective ("Detective") or the beginning of the AIDS epidemic, as in "Heart Reflex". When I was an aspiring actor learning to act in New York, I never imagined that I would be able to live and work like this. Train with Navy Seals or meet Larry Kramer [American playwright, writer and activist for LGBT rights - ed.]. I am very lucky!

Prague, where you shot "Defeated", is a cult city for many Polish filmmakers, due to the famous FAMU school, but also a popular, atmospheric excursion destination. How was your time there?

Lovely. He will refer again to the privilege of working like this: six months in such a wonderful place, it is almost immoral! The only downside was the tight schedule so I didn't discover all the nooks and crannies that I had on the agenda. Fortunately, my driver, a guy in his fifties, was a great-grandfather from Prague, very talkative, and from him I learned the most interesting things - stories about the adventures of my ancestors and friends! Besides, in Prague, if you want to take a history lesson, you go out twenty meters in front of the front door - and it's already getting started. We shot in the summer, before Covid. We had an international team - Czechs, Swedes, Russians, Germans, French ... In use - not only behind the scenes, but also on the set - several languages simultaneously. Really, the only problem for me was my diet. Flour, red meat, stews ... I don't really like to eat like that. At least the beer was delicious, really amazing! In general, I really liked the culture of drinking and eating outside, these gardens, the community ... wonderful thing.

Due to the fact that the film was made in Europe, you had the opportunity to see places related to the war with your own eyes. What made the greatest impression on you? I was lucky, although it is not quite an adequate term that during the shooting we managed to visit the site of the former Auschwitz camp. Of course I knew, I had read about concentration camps before, but this direct contact with the site was invaluable, it gave me a clear idea of what happened. It is difficult for a man to believe what he sees around him. He's standing right next to him, yet he doesn't quite believe it. The space made a huge impression on me. I did not realize how huge Birkenau was, how perfectly organized the entire extermination was. This architecture, the surrounding houses, barracks. Someone designed it, thought over the function down to the smallest detail, and during my visit, I had the chance to trace how and where the whole process took place, step by step. I was standing there and it felt like I was choking, my whole body ached. Such experiences helped me a lot to bring my character to life. Max did not survive the camp himself, but he appears in a place marked by this tragedy, the tragedy of World War II, it affects him. I wish everyone could visit this place because it is a life changing experience.

Movies set in the past can be a perfect mirror for what is here and now. What analogies do you see between that reality and today's world? - Division, the dictate of fear, fear of the unknown, of otherness. Different ways to work through your trauma. These are all threads that connect the "Defeated" space with our reality. For my character, especially the experience of trauma resulting from family history, from the relationship with my brother, becomes the key. They both underwent a similar shock, but their reactions were completely different. I found it very interesting. Max is still hoping for a change, Moritz, as the saying goes, "the platform is gone". They have a completely different perception of one and the same event. Again, it is also a very contemporary thread - one event, situation, and extreme different opinions about it.

Your hero comes from Brooklyn, after you came from Canada, you spent a lot of time in New York. What is so special about the atmosphere of this city that gives it such a "mythical" status? For me, it has always been, I fully agree! Scorsese's "Streets of Poverty" has always been such a cinematic quintessence of New York, with its excellent Keitel and DeNiro. This film is set in the 1940s, which is the present day of Max. He was my point of reference in terms of the accent. Those years were difficult, the inhabitants struggled to make ends meet, and that also had to affect my character's character. Besides, New York has a chic character, New Yorkers feel proud of their roots. It's also something that Max defines.

And you had to transfer this New York feeling to Berlin ... ... to the razed Berlin, which for Max becomes, in a way, another space of trauma, personal again, but this time much more intense.

For this role, you had to master not only a Brooklyn accent, but also the German language. It was difficult?

I had an amazing accent teacher from Berlin, Simone. My rock! Fortunately, Max is an American who speaks German poorly and not a German, because if I had to play a German, I would have had a nervous breakdown! German is a damn hard language, especially for someone who wasn't exposed to such sounds when growing up. I learned everything phonetically. Sometimes I was "suspended" during the scene and then I was saved by Nina [Hoss, a great German acting and screen partner of Kitsch - ed.]. In my career, I have had to play with a South African, Texas, New York accent ... I've learned that there is no such thing as an optimal effect, someone is always dissatisfied. I focus on the vision agreed with the creators and I stick to it. Language is an amazing link between the actor and the protagonist, gives a unique insight into his state of mind and view of the world. I definitely prefer to play the character with an accent than to speak as usual. It's a great transformation tool. The arrangement of the lips, the appearance of the face, and the term are changing. In "Waco" my character, the guru of the sect David Koresh, had an unnaturally high, soft voice, which immediately made the viewer feel differently.

We associate you with American hits, but you are, like Ryan Reynolds or Ryan Gosling, Canadian. Do you feel like an American, or is Canada a state of mind after all?

I started my adventure with the USA when I was 20, I came to school. Now I'm forty, so I've spent half my life here. Madness! Over time, I have grown into this space, I have settled down and I feel at home. I'm talking to you from my home in Austin, Texas. But at the same time, I'll always be Canadian. I go there often, visiting my family and familiar places. Maybe I'll go back one day, who knows?

You've had moments in your career that turned from a promise of triumph to failure, such as the high-budget John Carter, who failed at the box office. Do you have something that you already know: "I'm avoiding this"? I don't have things that, as a rule, I don't do or know that I will never do. But there are some that I don't like. These include radical weight changes. My dear friend must have gained twenty-five kilos for a small, independent film. The first week was great because you eat what you want, then depression started, joint problems, sugar jumping ... I never put my back, but I lost weight. I lost a dozen kilos for the role in "Waco", before that for the "Bang Bang Club". It's fucking hard and very exhausting, especially the older I get. My body and head hate it! Also, until Scorsese calls with some great proposal, I say: enough.

#taylor kitsch #Shadowplay #interview

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pleasureactivism · 4 years

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An Annotated Playlist to Accompany Your Reading of Pleasure Activism

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2eoQwDJipqb2BpIZqCIscQ?si=bRg4s4uhSqOXw02Ai2Pc2Q

In Section Three: A Circle of Sex, there is an essay, a compilation of interviews, titled “The Highs, Lows, and Blows of Casual Sex.” Upon reading this title, I immediately thought of one of my favorite songs at the moment, “High Highs to Low Lows” by Lolo Zouaï. I put this song on while I read this essay, and while not directly about sex, the concept of peaks and valleys really resonated with the text. “High Highs and Low Lows” set the mood for me to engage with “The Highs, Lows, and Blows of Casual Sex,” not just because of the lyrics but also the multidimensional sound and authenticity and vulnerability of Zouaï’s voice. Singing in both English and French, she covers so many deeply human feelings, from sexy to vulnerable, cocky to depressed, sensual to silly. Intentionally pairing this song with this reading (instead of just putting a random playlist on shuffle) gave me the idea of creating a playlist- this book needs a soundtrack, which I have attempted to create below.

A compilation of R&B, hip hop, pop, Latinx music and some 1970s Black feminist icons (namely, Nina Simone and Diana Ross), most of these songs are performed by people that identify as women of color, partly because that is in line with Pleasure Acitivism which “center[s] the experiences of Black women” and partly because that is what I often find myself listening to. However, as was true for adrienne maree brown and her book, this soundtrack “includes a few voices that are not Black or women-identified but that I trust in the human experience of finding pleasure beyond oppression” (brown 5). This playlist was inspired by and accompanied much of my reading of much of Pleasure Activism, shifting and growing as I read, enhancing the experience and adding meaning to both the text and the music. The songs in the soundtrack can be listened to while reading any section of the book, but there are some that deal directly with themes of the book, and for those I have identified a “pairing,” or specific essay or section that I recommend pairing with that song. The songs on the soundtrack are in the order of the recommended paired sections. It should be noted that given the time frame of this project and the fact that I am simultaneously finishing up my undergraduate senior thesis, I was only able to annotate a select few of the songs on the playlist, but in no way are the songs that are not described any less important, relevant, or magical.

Oh My God by Sevdaliza

Pairing: “The Legacy of ‘Uses of the Erotic,’ A Conversation with Cara Page” OR the Introduction to Section One, “Who Taught You to Feel Good?”

I originally added this song to the playlist because of its sound, described in one article as “a blend of trip-hop, avant pop, and electronica,” and its lyrics about self-discovery, realization, hope and dreams (Ingvaldsen 2020). Savdalize asks “Who should I be?” and notes that “I view myself from above/Roamin’ in the fields of hope/Will it make or break me/As my dreams are heavy, they outweigh me.” These comments about her exploration of self and the intensity of her dreams initially led to its inclusion on the playlist. However, after finding an interview with Sevdaliza, I realized just how crucial this song is for Pleasure Activism’s soundtrack. She is Iranian Dutch and a refugee who, according to the interview, “acnkowledg[es] the oppressive regimes and institutions of the world in an effort to reflect peace and solidarity through her aural artform” (Ingvaldsen 2020). In the interview, Sevdaliza says she “believe[s] in collective energy,” a concept not only explored in Pleasure Activism but also in our course throughout the semester. Additionally, she says that “heritage stands for a gift of profound insight, wisdom, and love. My heritage to me is like an inner-oracle. The one who knows. It is a mesmerizing voice, that becomes more clear as I am close to my authentic self. My heritage also connects me with deep feminine instincts; the wise woman within” (Ingvaldsen 2020). This connection to her heritage and ancestors reminded me of brown’s exploration of her own “personal pleasure lineage” and encouragement that her readers do the same (brown 21). Sevdaliza says, “our voices are meant to be heard, our stories meant to be shared,” a concept embodid by brown in Pleasure Activism.

Feeling Good by Nina Simone

Pairing: “The Sweetness of Salt, by Alexis Pauline Gumbs”

Video by India.Arie

Pairing: “Pussy Power, by Favianna Rodriguez”

Formation by Beyoncé

Pairing: “Wherein I Write about Sex” OR “The Pleasure of Living at the Same Time as Beyoncé Giselle Knowles-Carter”

“High Highs to Low Lows” by Lolo Zouaï

Pairing: “The Highs, Lows, and Blows of Casual Sex”

How Deep Is Your Love (feat. Yebba) by PJ Morton

Pairing: “Feelmore, A Conversation with Nenna Joiner”

Girls Need Love (with Drake)- Remix by Summer Walker

Pairing: “Liberating Your Fantasies” or “The Highs, Lows, and Blows of Casual Sex”

Girls Need Love is a seductive, passionate, and honest piece in which Walker creates a personal narrative about her desires for sex and love while also grappling with the double standard that “girls” can’t be sexually liberated. She pushes back against the societal norms that “girls can’t never say they want it/girls can’t never say how/girls can’t never say they need it/girls can’t even say now.” She also stresses that her desire for casual sex is okay, a topic which brown analyzes in Highs, Lows, and Blows of Casual Sex” (“I don’t need a reason baby/Please don’t get in your feelings”). Another soulful R&B track, this song has a simple production with a main focus on the vocals.

BROWN SKIN GIRL (feat Blue Ivy Carter) by Beyoncé, Saint Jhn, Wizkid

Pairing: “The Pleasure of Living at the Same Time as Beyoncé Giselle Knowles-Carter” OR “Wherein I Write about Sex” OR “Black Woman Wildness by Junauda Petrus”

Q.U.E.E.N. (feat. Erykah Badu) by Janelle Monáe

Pairing: “Fly as Hell, A Conversation with Sonya Renee Taylor”

Multi-Love by Unknown Mortal Orchestra

Pairing: “On Nonmonogamy”

Multi-Love is a song about polyamory, full of intimacy, vulnerability, and even discomfort and torment. Despite these intense feelings that are on display in Ruban Nielson’s (the lead singer’s) voice and in the lyrics, the instrumental aspect of the song is lighter and catchy, consisting of an upbeat keyboard tune and light, quick drum beats. These components come together to create a non-pretentious, spiritual, futuristic song that touches on many of the same topics as Pleasure Activism. For example, he talks about god, asking, “who is your god? Where is she?” Similarly, adrienne maree brown said that she “think[s] a lot about what god is, how god is, and where we are relating to and running from and surrendering to god” (brown 7). He sings about transitioning between single-love and multi-love (“We were one, then become three”), which reminded me of brown’s comments that “nonmonogamy tends to suit [her] best, even if [she is] occasionally focused on one lover” and her further analysis of multi-love in the subsection “On Nonmonogamy” (brown 8, 409). And finally, he talks about alludes to the non-binaryness of gender: “she doesn't want to be a man or a woman” (though the use of the pronoun “she” is somewhat troubling in this case). All in all, this song that is somehow at once crystal clear and mysteriously muffled belongs on the soundtrack because of its soulful, groovy nature, relevant lyricism and personal discovery about love, spirituality, vulnerability, and meaning. As a side note, I also felt like it fits well because Ruban Nielson’s delivery has been compared to that of Prince’s, who brown dedicates the book to.

The Other Woman by Nina Simone

Pairing: “Being Second”

Golden by Jill Scott

I’m Coming Out by Diana Ross

Universe by Ambar Lucid

La Negra Tiene Tumbao by Celia Cruz

Pairing: “On Fear, Shame, Death, and Humor, A Conversation between the Rocca Family and Zizi” OR “On the Pleasures of Wardrobe, A Conversation with Maori Karmael Holmes”

Beyond being an absolute Afro-Cuban and Latin music icon, and the Queen of Salsa, Celia Cruz is known for her fashion style; she always had on colorful wigs, sequins, crazy high heels, and incredible makeup (for this reason her song is paired with “On the Pleasures of Wardrobe”). This song was chosen because of its multifaceted nature; it spans the genres of jazz, salsa, reggae, and hip hop. She talks about the style, attitude, swag and sexiness of a black woman (in Spanish). Igniting the spark of pride in Latinx and Black identities for many, “La Negra Tiene Tumbao” is a timeless anthem about being proud of who you are, embracing blackness, and never moving out of the way for anybody.

Pelo Suelto by Gloria Trevi

The Pleasure Principle by Janet Jackson

February 3rd by Jorja Smith

Satisfaction Guaranteed by Junglepussy

This song is lush and deep as it envelopes you into its mesmerizing tune. Junglepussy’s slow, intense words of confidence and encouragement to feel fully, both spiritually and physically, wash over the listener like a wave (“Yeah, I’m the brown hottie with the body, looking like Rum Spice… Relax, as the aura ease you/In the flesh, let the physical please you”).

Soul Liberator by Kraak and Smaak feat. Sanguita

Feeling Myself by Nicki Minaj feat. Beyoncé

Cranes in the Sky by Solange

Hurry by Teyana Taylor feat. Kanye

Mujer Latina by Thalía

A Quién Le Importa by Thalía

I’m Every Woman by Whitney Houston

Works Cited

Ingvaldsen, Torsten. “Sevdaliza Returns With New Protest Song ‘Oh My God.’” HYPEBEAST, HYPEBEAST, 30 Jan. 2020, hypebeast.com/2020/1/sevdaliza-oh-my-god-single-stream-premiere.

#pleasureactivism #playlist

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outersthestory · 5 years

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Chapter 1

The lights of the tower were trying to blind me as I stared up at it. They made me feel unworthy, even vulgar for thinking to look in their direction. To be honest the lights were almost right, I was vulgar, but to survive on the Outskirts, you have to be a little vulgar. Well, a bit more than vulgar. You also have to be tough and fast, ready to pounce at whatever meal comes your way because you never know when the next meal will come. Usually, those meals were less than scraps, supplemental to whatever rats and birds you could catch in the streets.

The Outskirts were the worst place to live, you may as well live in a dung heap, and you wouldn't notice a difference if you did. To get out takes more talent than surviving it, and I planned to get out.

Taking a stabilizing breath, I adjusted the pack on my back and went back to my trudge, each step bringing me closer to those judging lights. That was where I could plead my case. Where I could begin my escape from the soul crushing reality of the Outskirts. If I could talk my way through there, I would be free.

Two guns immediately blocked my path. A pair of guards glared down at me, while a mousy man sat behind them, almost hidden in an alcove.

“Um, I gots an appointment with-” I started, only for the mouse to interrupt me.

“Name.” He didn't even look up.

“ Uh, A-Amanda Simon.”

The mouse checked off something and nodded slightly to the guards. “ Please stay in the waiting room until you are called for your interview.” The guns lifted and the guards stepped back to their positions.

Inside the tower was more luxury than I had ever seen, and it probably wasn't even half of what the Elites enjoyed. That was my goal, to join the Elites. To never worry about anything ever again. My life was going to change, and I was going to take every opportunity. First though, I was going to stock up on the clean water that was just sitting there.

After a few moments my pack was bulging even further than it had been. It may have been a bad idea to add more weight to my burden, but I didn’t know what to expect on the next level. I wanted to be ready. If I was going to find away for my father to follow me once I was through, I wouldn’t be able to waste time trying to survive in unfamiliar territory.

A click shook me from my daydreaming, if it could be called that, and a voice came from the ceiling.

“Next.” Silence returned as I stared above my head, shock on my face. That was the power of the Outer Ring. If the had that kind of magic in only the next level, what on earth did they have in The Middle?

“Next.” The voice said again, a little more agitated. I stood immediately, looking around for any indication of where I should go. A light blinked impatiently above a door on the other end of the room and I hurried over.

My hand landed on the doorknob, and I hesitated. This was my way out, one last thing to do and I would be free. I steadied my breathing and opened the door.

The room was incredible. Actual fluorescent bulbs clung to the ceiling, a plywood desk with a typewriter dominated the middle of the room, and metal filing cabinets sat along the walls. My jaw was trying to complete a disappearing act as I took in all the wealth that surrounded me.

At the desk sat a woman, tapping in a nearly soothing rhythm. She hardly acknowledged my presence, and I was about to leave conscious of how much I didn't fit in this place, until she spoke.

“Please sit.” I cautiously made my way to the actual chair that sat across from her and slowly lowered myself into it. She stopped typing and looked up at me. “My name is Caroline, and I will be your interviewer today. Now, before we start, have you gotten all the necessary vaccines?” I nodded, not yet trusting my voice. It had taken me two years to save up enough for those things, and I made sure to go to the best doctor in the Outskirts, not that it meant much.

“Good. I just have a few questions for you, and then we can hopefully get you out of here.” She smiled, her teeth barely showing.

“Alright.” I nodded again, quietly marveling at the fact that her teeth weren't stained yellow.

“Do you have experience with unskilled labour?” Her fingers hovered over the typewriter.

“Yes, I help out with some of the harvests in the upper Outskirt.” Typing filled the silence as she recorded my answer.

“Do you have any addictions to the drugs circulated in the Outskirts?”

“No.” I had kept myself far away from those things. After knowing what they had done to my mother, I regarded them as evil things.

“Are you connected with any criminal organizations?”

“No.”

“Do you have any specialized skills?”

“I hunt them animals that get into the fields,” I paused a moment as she wrote that out, and then, feeling like that wasn’t enough, I added, “ and I sing.” She looked surprised for a moment, but smiled again and continued writing.

Finally she looked at me again and stared hard. “Last question Ms. Simon, and then I can let you know if you're approved.” The interview had gone well, I hoped, and I could taste the end. “How many of your ancestors were Elite?”

Everything stopped, my eyes slowly moved back to the face of my interviewer, and my heart tried to leap from my chest. What she had just asked me, had no answer because it was impossible. No one in the Outskirts had Elite ancestors, because it was illegal for Elites and Outers to marry, and everyone knew that. The interviewer took the answer from my face and nodded.

“Unfortunately Ms. Simon, I cannot grant you entry to the next area. Have a good day.” The doors slammed, and the lights mocked me.

It started to rain, the lights reflected off each raindrop as I wandered away from the tower. I felt, heavy, heavy and empty. Nothing was right, it all spun, I vomited. I had nothing left now, but to go back to my ‘apartment’.

The rain stayed a steady drizzle as I came up to my familiar haunts. My neighbors watched me from their own little spaces, none of them said anything, but I felt their pity and while I usually despised the feeling that night I wallowed in it.

“You’re back.” a gruff voice rose from the back of the room I lived in. My father, his torso resting on pillows, the cook fire casting strange shadows across his face. He didn’t sound surprised. I didn’t say anything, just dumped my pack on the floor and landed on the mat we slept on. A grunt from my father let me know that he had dragged himself across the floor to my pack. He began to go through it, removing the things I had thought would help me on the next level, and carefully hiding the bottles of water I had taken from the tower. Fresh water was rare, if you had it, someone else wanted it.

“They lied to me.” I finally got out. “Them recruiters, they told me it was possible to get out. But it’s not.” My father nodded, he’d probably known, but he would never had told me. He expected my to figure things out on my own, even the fact that hope was, hopeless.

He dragged himself back to the fire and pulled out a bowl, filling it with the thin soup that he had cooked. There was enough soup for two people, he had started cooking after I had left for the tower.

“You should be using your board. The doc’ said dragging yourself like that ain’t good for you.” I took the soup and slurped it, our last spoon had been used in the fire when the wood began to run out.

“I’m in the house,” was his argument, “s’not like i leave it much anyway.” He was right really, no legs meant no hunting, which meant I provided for both of us. I had hoped it would be easier on the next level. I would never find out now. A smell reached me through the stink of the room, a smell I hated.

“You been making beer again.” I pointed out, calmly, but I wanted to throw my bowl at him. If he made beer, then we had less water, and he was less useful when he was drunk. He shrugged.

“Figured I could sell it.” He tried, again.

“To who?” I pointed out, again. The argument always went the same, it felt like a ritual.

“Them soldiers. Them ones that patrol the outer border. Thems got enough money.”

“How are you gonna get out there? You won’t use your board, and thems down hill, and I ain’t helpin’.” He waved me off. I spun to the wall behind me and dug into his hiding space, pulling out a bottle of beer. “There’s only one. Who gonna buy just one bottle of beer?” Now I had him angry, again.

“I need that.” He reached for it, but I stood up and back out of the room. Twisting on my heels I ran, his shouts followed me.

By now the rain had let up, so I went to check up on my traps at the edges of the wheat fields. The repetitive task helped me calm down from the events of the day and I was able to bring myself back to my regular schedule. The traps gave me and my father more food, and a good trading item for the market. I took my haul; all five mice, an unfortunate mole, and the bottle of beer my father had made. While he would never actually sell it, I could probably get some more water or a blanket for it.

The market was just starting up again as I got there. People were pulling tarps off their wares and shook the water off their bodies. I found a small spot to set out my things and stood in the front, to discourage any thieves. Slowly the bartering picked back up, and I soon traded for some rice, firewood, and a small fish. I decided to keep a rat, we could make a stew with it and the fish and rice. It wouldn’t be nice, but it was food. As I packed together my new belongings, I heard the alarm blare.

The market all but disappeared as everyone hurried inside. Outside a new group entered, they were some of the most pristine people any of us ever saw, and they were only servants. They passed by us, not even sparing a glance, as they made their way to the slave market.

I watched them go by, these people who lived lives I could never imagine, and I knew I would die before I could ever get close to their level. My only way left was the very market they were headed to, and who would want a weakling like me as their slave.

#story #original story #constructive criticism please #outers

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Why Chadwick Boseman’s Wife Gave The Golden Globes’ Most Powerful Speech

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

Amidst Sunday night’s half-virtual/half-physical Golden Globes awards ceremony–which was riddled with technical glitches and overshadowed by controversy over the Hollywood Foreign Press Association’s lack of Black representation in its cloistered ranks–one moment stood out as possibly the most powerful and clearly the most moving of the evening.

That was when Taylor Simone Ledward, the widow of late actor Chadwick Boseman, accepted a posthumous award on her husband’s behalf when he won Best Actor in a Motion Picture Drama for his work in Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom.

Boseman was widely favored to win even with formidable competition from Anthony Hopkins (The Father), Gary Oldman (Mank), Tahar Rahim (The Mauritanian), and Riz Ahmed (Sound of Metal). Boseman’s fiery turn as the angry, tormented young trumpeter Levee Green in the Netflix adaptation of August Wilson’s play was his final screen appearance. The actor passed away in August 2020 from colon cancer at the age of 43.

In accepting the award, a tearful, often overcome Ledward–who gave her remarks via Zoom–noted toward the end, “I don’t have his words.” But she nevertheless spoke eloquently on her late spouse’s behalf, saying, “He would thank God. He would thank his parents. He would thank his ancestors for their guidance and their sacrifices.”

She added, “He would say something beautiful, something inspiring, something that would amplify that little voice that tells you, you can, that tells you to keep going… that calls you back to what you are meant to be doing in this moment in history.”

Ledward finished by saying, “We have to take all the moments to celebrate those we love, so thank you HFPA for this opportunity to do exactly that. And, honey, you keep ‘em coming. Thank you.”

Boseman’s career had been distinguished primarily by playing historical figures like Jackie Brown in 42 and James Brown in Get On Up before he became an international star as Wakandan king T’Challa, a.k.a. the Black Panther, in the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

He made his debut as the character in 2016’s Captain America: Civil War–the same year he was first diagnosed with cancer–and next starred in 2018’s groundbreaking Black Panther, which earned over $1 billion at the box office and became the first superhero movie nominated for the Best Picture Oscar. He played T’Challa twice more in Avengers: Infinity War and Avengers: Endgame. The role will not be recast for future MCU movies, including Black Panther 2, which is due out in 2022.

Boseman’s other credits included Marshall, 21 Bridges and Spike Lee’s Da Five Bloods, all of which he made –like three of the Marvel movies–while undergoing continuous treatment for his cancer, which he did not disclose publicly.

It was notable that during a sketch segment on last night’s awards show, in which a group of pre-school children were jokingly questioned on their knowledge (or lack thereof) of actors, films and the Golden Globes themselves, every single child immediately answered the question “Who is Chadwick Boseman?” by responding, “Black Panther.” His was the one name they all recognized instantly.

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The post Why Chadwick Boseman’s Wife Gave The Golden Globes’ Most Powerful Speech appeared first on Den of Geek.

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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roman-catholic-mass-readings · 4 years

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1st May >> Mass Readings (Europe, Africa, New Zealand, Australia & Canada)

Friday, Third Week of Eastertide

Saint Joseph the Worker.

Friday, Third Week of Eastertide

(Liturgical Colour: White)

First Reading

Acts of the Apostles 9:1-20

This man is my chosen instrument to bring my name before the pagans

Saul was still breathing threats to slaughter the Lord’s disciples. He had gone to the high priest and asked for letters addressed to the synagogues in Damascus, that would authorise him to arrest and take to Jerusalem any followers of the Way, men or women, that he could find.

Suddenly, while he was travelling to Damascus and just before he reached the city, there came a light from heaven all round him. He fell to the ground, and then he heard a voice saying, ‘Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?’ ‘Who are you, Lord?’ he asked, and the voice answered, ‘I am Jesus, and you are persecuting me. Get up now and go into the city, and you will be told what you have to do.’ The men travelling with Saul stood there speechless, for though they heard the voice they could see no one. Saul got up from the ground, but even with his eyes wide open he could see nothing at all, and they had to lead him into Damascus by the hand. For three days he was without his sight, and took neither food nor drink.

A disciple called Ananias who lived in Damascus had a vision in which he heard the Lord say to him, ‘Ananias!’ When he replied, ‘Here I am, Lord’, the Lord said, ‘You must go to Straight Street and ask the house of Judas for someone called Saul, who comes from Tarsus. At this moment he is praying, having had a vision of a man called Ananias coming in and laying hands on him to give him back his sight.’

When he heard that, Ananias said, ‘Lord, several people have told me about this man and all the harm he has been doing to your saints in Jerusalem. He has only come here because he holds a warrant from the chief priests to arrest everybody who invokes your name.’ The Lord replied, ‘You must go all the same, because this man is my chosen instrument to bring my name before pagans and pagan kings and before the people of Israel; I myself will show him how much he himself must suffer for my name.’ Then Ananias went. He entered the house, and at once laid his hands on Saul and said, ‘Brother Saul, I have been sent by the Lord Jesus who appeared to you on your way here so that you may recover your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit.’ Immediately it was as though scales fell away from Saul’s eyes and he could see again. So he was baptised there and then, and after taking some food he regained his strength.

He began preaching in the synagogues, ‘Jesus is the Son of God.’

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 116(117)

R/ Go out to the whole world; proclaim the Good News.

R/ Alleluia!

O praise the Lord, all you nations,

acclaim him all you peoples!

R/ Go out to the whole world; proclaim the Good News.

R/ Alleluia!

Strong is his love for us;

he is faithful for ever.

R/ Go out to the whole world; proclaim the Good News.

R/ Alleluia!

Gospel Acclamation

cf. Luke 24:46,26

Alleluia, alleluia!

It was ordained that the Christ should suffer

and rise from the dead,

and so enter into his glory.

Alleluia!

Or:

John 6:56

Alleluia, alleluia!

He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood

lives in me, and I live in him,

says the Lord.

Alleluia!

Gospel

John 6:52-59

My flesh is real food and my blood is real drink

The Jews started arguing with one another: ‘How can this man give us his flesh to eat?’ they said. Jesus replied:

‘I tell you most solemnly,

if you do not eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood,

you will not have life in you.

Anyone who does eat my flesh and drink my blood

has eternal life,

and I shall raise him up on the last day.

For my flesh is real food

and my blood is real drink.

He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood

lives in me

and I live in him.

As I, who am sent by the living Father,

myself draw life from the Father,

so whoever eats me will draw life from me.

This is the bread come down from heaven;

not like the bread our ancestors ate:

they are dead,

but anyone who eats this bread will live for ever.’

He taught this doctrine at Capernaum, in the synagogue.

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

————————————-

Saint Joseph the Worker

(Liturgical Colour: White)

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Friday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading

Genesis 1:26-2:3

Fill the earth and conquer it

God said, ‘Let us make man in our own image, in the likeness of ourselves, and let them be masters of the fish of the sea, the birds of heaven, the cattle, all the wild beasts and all the reptiles that crawl upon the earth.’

God created man in the image of himself,

in the image of God he created him,

male and female he created them.

God blessed them, saying to them, ‘Be fruitful, multiply, fill the earth and conquer it. Be masters of the fish of the sea, the birds of heaven and all living animals on the earth.’ God said, ‘See, I give you all the seed-bearing plants that are upon the whole earth, and all the trees with seed-bearing fruit; this shall be your food. To all wild beasts, all birds of heaven and all living reptiles on the earth I give all the foliage of plants for food.’ And so it was. God saw all he had made, and indeed it was very good. Evening came and morning came: the sixth day.

Thus heaven and earth were completed with all their array. On the seventh day God completed the work he had been doing. He rested on the seventh day after all the work he had been doing. God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on that day he had rested after all his work of creating.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 89(90):2-4,12-14,16

R/ Give success to the work of our hands, O Lord.

R/ Alleluia!

Before the mountains were born

or the earth or the world brought forth,

you are God, without beginning or end.

R/ Give success to the work of our hands, O Lord.

R/ Alleluia!

You turn men back to dust

and say: ‘Go back, sons of men.’

To your eyes a thousand years

are like yesterday, come and gone,

no more than a watch in the night.

R/ Give success to the work of our hands, O Lord.

R/ Alleluia!

Make us know the shortness of our life

that we may gain wisdom of heart.

Lord, relent! Is your anger for ever?

Show pity to your servants.

R/ Give success to the work of our hands, O Lord.

R/ Alleluia!

In the morning, fill us with your love;

we shall exult and rejoice all our days.

Show forth your work to your servants;

let your glory shine on their children.

R/ Give success to the work of our hands, O Lord.

R/ Alleluia!

Second Reading

Colossians 3:14-15,17,23-24

Whatever your work is, put your heart into it as for the Lord

Over all these clothes, to keep them together and complete them, put on love. And may the peace of Christ reign in your hearts, because it is for this that you were called together as parts of one body. Always be thankful. Never say or do anything except in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. Whatever your work is, put your heart into it as if it were for the Lord and not for men, knowing that the Lord will repay you by making you his heirs. It is Christ the Lord that you are serving.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Gospel Acclamation

Psalm 67:20

Alleluia, alleluia!

May the Lord be blessed day after day:

he bears our burdens, God our saviour.

Alleluia!

Gospel

Matthew 13:54-58

A prophet is only despised in his own country

Coming to his home town, Jesus taught the people in their synagogue in such a way that they were astonished and said, ‘Where did the man get this wisdom and these miraculous powers? This is the carpenter’s son, surely? Is not his mother the woman called Mary, and his brothers James and Joseph and Simon and Jude? His sisters, too, are they not all here with us? So where did the man get it all?’ And they would not accept him. But Jesus said to them, ‘A prophet is only despised in his own country and in his own house’, and he did not work many miracles there because of their lack of faith.

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

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ciathyzareposts · 5 years

Text

Game 333: Waxworks (1992)

The box CamelCases the second “W” but the title screen doesn’t. There’s a similar issue with whether the company is called HorrorSoft or Horror Soft.

Waxworks

United Kingdom

HorrorSoft (developer); Accolade (publisher)

Released in 1992 for Amiga and DOS

Date Started: 11 June 2019

Waxworks is the fourth major title from HorrorSoft, after . . . A Personal Nightmare (1989), Elvira: Mistress of the Dark (1990), and Elvira II: The Jaws of Cerberus (1991). (It is also the last; the company would re-brand itself AdventureSoft in 1993 and from then on publish essentially nothing but Simon the Sorcerer entries. That annoys me a little bit. I mean, “AdventureSoft” is too generic a name to be taken up by a company that just publishes one series. They should have called themselves “SimonSoft” and left “AdventureSoft” for a developer with a more diverse catalog.) I think I could make a case for the game not really being an RPG, but part of me is curious to see how the developer does without Elvira as the game’s centerpiece. I never really cared for the character, which I’m sure dragged down my enjoyment of the two previous titles.

Like the Elvira games, Waxworks is fundamentally an adventure game that does offer RPG-style character development, combat, and inventory. The interface is slightly redesigned from Elvira II. (The engine is called AGOS, a graphical version of an open-source engine designed for MUDs called AberMUD.) The system of health to individual body parts has been dropped, as has the useless beating heart. The compass is moved from the lower-right to the left, and character stats are on the bottom rather than between the two main windows. A control panel of icons in the upper-left lets you check inventory, manipulate objects, ready weapon, and attack.

I bought the GOG version and was confused for a while until I looked it up and discovered that the game came with two manuals, one of which GOG doesn’t offer. The second, The Curse of the Twins, explains the backstory in 13 pages of text by Richard Moran, who also wrote the manual to Star Control II.

The backstory casts the unnamed protagonist as a twin whose brother Alex disappeared when they were teenagers. They had been exploring an old mine. The siblings lived in the seaside town of Vista Forge, where their rich, eccentric Uncle Boris built a wax museum in his creepy mansion. Now an adult, the main character has returned to Vista Forge to attend Boris’s funeral. All kinds of mysterious signs, portends, and disasters accompany the trip, including the collapse of Boris’s grave, and disappearance of his coffin when a sinkhole opens beneath the cemetery. During the chaos of this event, the protagonist thinks he briefly sees Alex in the mine tunnels that run under the cemetery.

The hallways of Uncle Boris’s waxworks.

The protagonist remembers a tale that Uncle Boris once told, about a family ancestor who caught a witch named Ixona stealing one of his chickens. In retaliation, he chopped off her hand, for which Ixona cursed the family: “In every generation in which your family bears twins, one shall belong to Beelzebub.” The curse nearly immediately came true, when one twin son of the family became Vlad IV of Walachia, or Vlad the Impaler, who lived up to his name by tracking down and impaling the witch. Generations later, other twins in the family included Torquemada, the Marquis de Sade, and a female witch burned at the stake in Salem. [Having lived in Salem, I am obliged to point out with indignation that no accused witches were burned in Salem; they were all hung, except for one who was crushed under rocks. Also, they were all innocent.] It was these very individuals that Uncle Boris chose to populate his waxworks. Determined to lift the curse, Boris also funded a dig at Vlad’s castle in Walachia and recovered a crystal ball from the impaled corpse of Ixona.

The character enters the tunnels and returns to the location where Alex disappeared, finding evidence that someone has been living in the tunnels, eating bats and fish. The next day, at the reading of the will, the character inherits Boris’s estate. A letter left by Boris indicates that Boris knew Alex was still alive, and possessed by evil, and that the character can save him by using the waxworks to travel back in time and undo the curse.

Uncle Boris’s creepy, disembodied head speaks to me from beyond the grave.

The game begins at the door to the mansion, with Boris’s butler inviting the character in. The butler gives the protagonist (whom I guess I’ll describe in the first person from now on) a crystal ball in which I see Boris’s face. He tells me that I must use the waxworks exhibits to enter the worlds of the previous twins kill them, “destroying the power that feeds the curse.” I then find myself in front of an Egyptian exhibit. The Egyptian siblings technically predate the curse, but one of them was evil, which gave Ixona the idea in the first place.

Death is only the beginning.

I move throughout the mansion. Given the backstory, I expect to find exhibits depicting the Spanish Inquisition, the Salem Witch Trials, Dracula, and perhaps even the persecution and assassination of Jean-Paul Marat as performed by the inmates of the asylum of Charenton under the direction of the Marquis de Sade. But I guess those were just examples. What I see instead are:

A mine being overrun by a mutant plant

Did that happen in this town? If so, the authorities sure hushed it up.

Jack the Ripper approaching one of his victims with a knife

You’re not even stabbed yet, woman! Don’t swoon–run!

A bunch of zombies lumbering through a graveyard

I’m not sure this event was “historical.”

There are other closed curtains throughout the museum. I’m not sure if they’ll later be opened and reveal other exhibits.

I wonder if I’m supposed to take these on in a particular order, but the game has me covered there. I turns out I can talk to Boris by clicking on the crystal ball. He tells me that no, it doesn’t matter what order I choose–all of the scenes need to be “cleansed.” I realize later that talking to him has cost me “psy” points, so I’d better save it for when I’m really stuck.

. . . except that I’ll be Level 1 for the first one and like Level 20 when I go to the last one.

I decide to go in chronological order, although I’m not entirely sure where the graveyard fits into it. My best guess is that the order is Egypt – Graveyard – Jack the Ripper – Mine. Thus, I head back to the Egyptian exhibit and choose “Enter.”

A couple of flashes of light later, and I’m in a pyramid. A nearby room shows someone labeled “pyramid designer” stabbed in the back, his body hunched over a table. A piece of papyrus underneath the corpse has an image of Anubis and a set of nine hieroglyphics.

Some kind of puzzle already.

The room is full of baskets, jugs, pitchers, and other objects, and it turns out that, just as in Elvira II, you can pick up just about everything. Unlike Elvira II, there’s no spell system here that’s going to make use of all these items, so there’s probably no point in loading up my inventory. I do it anyway, mostly because I want to see if the 16 items the window holds are all I get, or whether it scrolls. It turns out that it scrolls. At this point, I realize that I can’t figure out how to drop things. Clicking and dragging them back to the environment doesn’t help. The manual says that “Drop” is supposed to be an object action when I click on an object, but it never appears. I hope there’s no limit to my inventory, then. I walk out of the room with a scarab beetle brooch (found in a chest), a dagger, a lamp, a bowl, a beaker, a stylus and ink block, two pieces of papyrus, three baskets, six jugs, a jar of oil, and a mat.

The scene in the first room. Most of this stuff will end up in my inventory.

Returning to the hallways, I start wondering if I’m going to have to map. I decide to try following the right corridor first, and if I get lost or confused, then I’ll map.

I turn a corner and meet a pyramid guard with a sword. Combat hasn’t really changed since Elvira II, either. You hit the sword icon to activate your readied weapon, then click in the screen itself to indicate what part of the enemy you want to target. The guard defeats me three times in a row.

And here’s where we learn that Horror Soft did not skimp on its customary gruesome death screens.

Finally, on the fourth time, I manage to kill him–with no hit points lost. That suggests that luck is going to play a big role in combat. From this one battle, my level increases to 2. I also get the guard’s sword.

As I walk, I realize I’m getting 1 experience point for every square I’ve never stepped in before. I soon go to Level 3. This is accompanied by an increase in maximum hit points.

Continuing down the hall, I meet another guard, who also slays me two times in a row. I finally kill him on my third try. I hit him about five times for every time he hits me, and I do hundreds of points of damage to him. These guys are tanks. I begin to wonder if I was really supposed to level up in one of the easier scenarios first. At this moment, let’s pause to note that the graphics are quite nice. Many are animated, which isn’t coming through in these static shots. But the only sound effects I’ve experienced in the game are the swishes and thuds of weapons connecting in combat. There’s music, but it’s loud and relentless and I turned it off.

This guy was a little easier. He looks easier.

After picking up some piles of sand, I meet a new enemy: a priest with a dagger. He dies a lot easier than the guards. At the end of a corridor, at a statue, I find a tuning fork in a pot. But it isn’t long before yet another guard kills me. I reload, kill him, step a few paces past him, and find a little pond. There, a crocodile kills me while I’m trying to fill a jug with water. Man, this game is rough.

Reloading, I walk a few paces past the crocodile, then meet an Egyptian guy with a spear:

The problem is that hit points don’t seem to regenerate automatically as you move. It occurs to me that Uncle Boris might be able to help. I contact him and, sure enough, using the bits of papyrus and pen that I picked up, creates three healing scrolls. Each one seems to heal 10 hit points. They don’t really help: the spear guy destroys me in two stabs.

I start paying attention to the statistics, and when I finally kill the bastard, I’m convinced the game is just making things up. When you strike someone, the box in the lower-left corner tells how many hit points of damage you’ve done. There were times that I hit the guy for over 200 points in multiple blows and he didn’t die. When I did finally kill him, it was after maybe 80 points of damage.

I come to a treasure room! Too bad that’s not why I’m here. Five pots, a weight, two cat statues, a golden calf statue, and a tile all join my overflowing inventory.

In a real RPG, there would be lots of cool stuff in a room like this.

I soon come up against a thick glass panel. Nothing will smash it. This sounds like a job for the tuning fork! After 15 minutes of rummaging through my stuff, I find it–somehow I accidentally put it into a basket. I use it and the glass shatters and collapses.

A few paces on, two blades come out of the ceiling and kill me.

Okay, it turns out that the blades are the result of a trap, indicated by the presence of a very thin piece of string stretching across the corridor. I’ll have to watch for those in the future.

I finally make it to a set of stairs upward, where I’m confronted by a puzzle: a pentagram with the number 0 at each point, plus four numbers (1, 3, 4, 6, 7) at each intersection of lines. Clicking on any of the 0s causes them to cycle through numbers 1 through 9, but it also starts an hourglass timer at the bottom. If I run out of time, as I did the first attempt (before I realized the hourglass was even running):

The mechanism by which this happened is unclear to me.

My guess is that it’s like a magic square: each line has to add up to the same number, with no number being used more than once, including the ones in the middle. That means I have to make do with 2, 5, 8, 9, and 0 at the points of the pentagram. It doesn’t take me long, though, to realize that isn’t going to work. The best I can do with no repeating numbers is make the totals come out to 16, 17, 18, 19, and 20.

So I focus on just getting them to add up to the same thing period. I spend some time messing with it in Excel and I finally come up with the answer, but I’m unsatisfied with my method. I know there’s a way to do it algebraically, and I just couldn’t figure it out. Solving math puzzles via trial-and-error never seems right. Anyway, I go up to Level 6.

Caught it just as the door was opening.

A few steps down the corridor and:

How did I end up barefoot, exactly?

I think I’ll leave it there. So far, it seems like a brisk game, but much like Elvira II, the RPG elements are unsatisfying. The deaths are kind of funny, but I wouldn’t be laughing if I prized myself on low reload count.

Time so far: 3 hours

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/game-333-waxworks-1992/

#retro games #dos games #retro #crpg #adventure #amiga #oldcomputers #8bit #16bit #blog #repost

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clariced228-blog · 6 years

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Wrote this. Love some feedback Desperately!

Mortals. Throughout life they grow, they love, they work and they inevitably die. The “circle of life” as it is ironically called, is quite black and white. Even though mundanes, such as whomever is reading this, seem so fascinated with it’s depths. From my observations it’s rather…absurd the way you live. You grow up, you work, maybe if you have time and are lucky enough you’ll find a lover that lasts a few years at most. Then after going into a fragile state of depression, you die. It’s all really fascinating, watching helpless mundanes such as yourself struggle; desperately trying to hold on to the shred of humanity and innocence like a flower in the pits of Edom. You see, the thing is, that I feed on your desperation and anxiety. So by all means, let your wills break like bone, your hopes shatter like glass. Because what you’re giving me is a feast, and I can’t wait for the main course.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Of all the places they had to deploy me it had to be to hell itself: Brooklyn, New York. I suppose as horribly dreary and disgusting as it is, the population is outstanding. I could smell the despair and terror from miles away. It’s going to be a good meal when I’m done here, I think as I feel the corners of my mouth quirk up in a malicious smile. As I waltz into my dusty, bed-bug infested motel room, my nostrils fill with the smell of mold and rotting milk. My face automatically contorts at the stench. I take a moment to adjust, but in no time I’ve flung my exhausted body onto the creaky, old mattress. After six hours of travelling, this piece of cement feels amazing.

I can feel fatigue catching up to me, my eyes drooping. I prop myself up on my elbows, hoping this will keep myself awake, seeing as I’ve got an important task at hand. To no avail, I fall into a restless nights sleep, with dreams so haunting even the dead would scream. Then again, I am the dead.

Tick tock, goes the clock

Ding dong, goes the bell

Time has stopped

The bell is quiet

Your pulse has quickened

Your eyes have shut

The time has come

The moon is nigh

At the witches hour

You’ve come to die

They asked for my help, help to bring down humanity from the roots and tear away all it has put its beliefs in. From the inside I will end the bane of existent, the reason we all had to hide away, the reason demons have been under all of you.

The poem of my kin rings in my head and the chants fill my ears with booming voices, reminding me of my task at hand. Screams begin to over power the chanting. I wiggle my fingers, they feel slick and slightly sticky. Looking down I see what must be blood. Human blood; its sweet scent fills my nose and causes my stomach to growl. I lift my fingers to my tongue when a scream pierces my ears, causing me to flinch slightly. In front of me I see a quaint, simple home. Or, it would be if the flames of hell weren’t surrounding it and engulfing it like a spider wrapping its prey.

I can sense the fear dripping from the cries from inside. I bolt across the deserted street to get to the bonfire before me. Before touching the pavement, a blood curdling scream comes to a quickened halt, as if it was abruptly cut off. The blaze seems to have hastily disappeared so I make the “smart” decision to go inside. The stench of terror and iron fills my senses. Upon walking inside the building seems oddly intact, causing me to shudder. Splash! I glance down slowly to my foot, where my white sneakers are stained with crimson liquid I recognize all too well. To my left a dark tall figure is positioned before me. Somehow I’ve moved to the center of the room, and whatever it is, stands between me and the doorway. I can feel my nails digging into my palms, a reminder I’m ready to fight if needed. They walk closer to me, the smell of blood getting more and more intense. The hairs on the back of my neck go up immediately, as a warning, but with my feet seemingly glued to the floor I await my fate. Long, slim, fingers reach towards me, the veins exploding off the wrist. The figures skin seems almost transparently pale when put into a small ray of sun. I shiver as the cool flesh touches my skin, squeezing tighter and tighter they seem to squeeze. I am gasping for air as my throat is crushed. The voice whispers incoherent words to me from out of the dark void of the cloth. My vision starts to go blurry as my body is deprived from oxygen. The figure seems to be fading as the world around me turns to black and all I can hear are the faint sounds of cries.

A series of honks and the squeal of wheels jars me awake from my nightmares. Glancing outside with a groan, I get out of the bed. My back muscles are sore and tense from my restless nights sleep on the rickety old mattress. I slip on my ripped jeans and loose, black t-shirt, along with my Converse sneakers. The fabric cool against my burning hot skin. I suppress a sigh of relief when I glance at my reflection in the cracked mirror. While my pale skin and defined cheekbones make me look like an anorexic teen, it is my eyes that draw the most attention. My fiery red eyes gleam in the natural light, seeping through the window. No matter how many contacts I’ve tried, they shine through like a flashlight coming through a sheet of paper. Nothing I’ve done has been able to conceal my demon mark.

As with most immortal beings, everyone has a quirk. Some have tails, some horns, some are lucky enough to have wings (they are quite the adventure to hide) and very few have the eyes of the devil himself. Only a descendant of Lucifer are born with the fire colored birthmark. Mind you, it can be a blessing and a curse.

As much as we hate to admit this, demons are not as….intricate as one would think. We have emotions, but since our ancestors were fallen angels, our emotions are of a higher standard. Some daemones or (a more “politically correct” term, as you mortals would put it) demons, feel more passionate when it comes to emotions, than others. Others, such as myself, prefer to keep weaknesses such as “feelings” aside.

On my 116 birthday I decided to have a party. I didn’t have many “friends”, but the one I had was the best ever. His name was Simon, and no we were never together. Never thought of it because to me, he was like family. He knew things that nobody else knew and even through everything he stayed with me. The one thing I never told him, was my true nature. My fear of losing him made me go to extremes to keep my secret safe.

August 7th, 2020 everything changed. He was there one minute and gone the next, like a flash of lightning before a fire. He and I were hanging out one day at his place, he said that he had to go and grab some food, Chinese to be exact. Simon even said he was going to get it from our favorite place down on 9th street. Palace Dragon, was just a block or two away.

I decided to stay at his apartment and play Dungeon Invaders on his PlayStation. He always creamed me, so I wanted to practice up while he was gone. The last thing I said before he left was “don’t get eaten,” I never meant it as a real scenario. That was the last time I ever saw him. Nobody knows what happened, all I know is that he was here one minute and then he was gone as quickly as a flame in a rainstorm.

He had left in his blue and red plaid t-shirt, black skinny jeans and a matching pair of Converse. I waited two hours before going and looking for him. I walked in and out of shops trying to see if any civilians saw him. Nobody had. I was the last one to see him. A demon, the last one to see such an amazing person. This just goes to show how self-involved mundanes are. So full of themselves that nobody would notice a boy go missing, right in front of their egotistical, cold eyes.

Society and their twisted, messed up views on beliefs. Their values that have no true reason other than to try and appeal to those of the other sex. Only when they get what they get what they want, do their REAL values come out. They're all the same, liars and cheats. So it shouldn't surprise me that they’d just so happen to be so oblivious as to miss such an “easy” thing.

#writtinghelp #feedback

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ellakari · 7 years

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Tsitsikamma Hiking memories

So I went on a 6-day hike, well 4 of the day were really hikes, the other 2 were just easy little things… and I met 12 of the most amazing, unique individuals.

I’ll try and record them and my memories of them here before they fade. I’ll start with the girls. Maylis is first, she’s one of the kindest young ladies I’ve met. She’s always the first to help and the last to accept anything, she’ll go last for the showers, food and be the first to offer up her extra shares of oats, even willing to miss her own breakfast so you can eat (if like me you were an idiot and tried a new cereal that proved to be beyond disgusting)!

Jordan is a firecracker, she reminds me of my friend, Leila. Witty and devilishly smart, she’s got a foul mouth but a good heart. She gets on really well with Maylis, she balances Maylis’s sweetness with astringency, but both of them have such good souls. A confessed partier, her and Maylis just about are ready to party whenever, especially if the Peanut butter jelly song comes on.

Then there is Charlotte, intelligent and worldly. Charlotte and I were the closest in age. She’s studying law and naturally we got on fairly well, she’s also from Germany (some of my ancestors came from there) so we fell in sync fairly fast. She’s fast when it comes to hiking and so easy going. She’s just having the adventure and taking it all in.

Then we had the guys, I’ll start with Alex who is head of the mountain society. He was one of those stoic types. I think I could probably trust him with my life. He’s very dependable, a fast hiker, efficient and his attitude to life is very mature/ Almost too mature at times, I wished he would cut loose, I almost felt that there was an innate shyness that he hid with efficiency and sarcasm. But he was a pleasure to have and I did find myself laughing a lot with his subtle brand of humour.

Speaking of humour leads me to Tiffany… I mean Alex (number 2). This guy is a born playwright and would fit into the film industry in heartbeat. Light with his words and on his feet, he was one of the photographers capturing our trip. His insights whilst different and far more masculine than mine had most of us giggling. A person of extremes, he is quiet and reserved at times before being gloriously exuberant the next. But when he entered a room, immediately there is a sense of anticipation as to what he might do next.

Going back to leaders of the group, THE leader of our group was Simon. Intelligent and very aware of world matters, I found him to be incredibly selfless and mature. He really impressed me. I can’t explain it properly. But I feel like he will go far. Very far and I look forward to following his story.

Next, there was our Birdwatcher Callum, pushing some of us on our patience, and providing interesting insights on birds and on some of us. He occasionally bordered on rudeness, eventually, I wondered if he had Aspergers. On our return, I discovered he did, and immediately felt bad for not being more understanding. He is remarkably normal except for missing social cues or confusing them (much to the hilarity of the group) but no one was unkind. I guess that gives you an idea of how special our group was. And it wouldn’t have been the same trip without Callum. I’m glad that he came. I saw my first Nerina Trogon (spelling) because of him!

Our international male was Daniel, or more commonly known as Zac (Efron) for his brilliant smile and winning way with the camera. He hiked with Charlotte and me for most of the time. He was such a good sport and I think between the three of us we covered every topic under the sun. I still will never forget how he started our first conversation, such a classic conversation starter “hey, do you guys have dogs?” Ahhh the way to any nature lovers heart. As students we want dogs and as children, we grew up with dogs. There was no turning back after that, conversational bliss ensued.

Next, there was (in my mind) Bruce. I really liked this guy. Just so open and engaged with the world. To be fair he is also the kind of person who can do anything shown it once, so he was popular with everyone. Whether it was stringing a hammock up over a stream (not for just himself but willingly shared with all- including me who -like a brat- demanded to lie in the hammock not realising there was someone already in it -I still feel embarrassed thinking back on it)! He carried his diving fins the entire MOUNTAINOUS hike just in case an opportunity came up. We did Acro Yoga, I learnt a lot about nutrition and we debated a lot of topics, not always on the same side but with a level of respect for one another opinions that made the conversation all that better.

Ben comes next, I’m losing track and in retrospect should have gone alphabetically but oh well… He’s probably the person I got to know the least, but as we were in the same cooking group, I do feel closer to him. He looked uncannily like my younger brother at times and I may have mistakenly treated him a bit like my younger brother. Hopefully, he didn’t pick up on it. Just a very humble guy, like Maylis, happy to let everyone go first and always there to help whether asked or not. He just is someone who does the right thing instinctively. He chose to walk near the back, rather relaxing and taking in the scenery confident in his own stride and of course at lunch always ready with his dad's powerful harissa paste to spice up life (seriously) for those who chose it.

Finally and not forgotten, there was Roark. Who I’m still trying to puzzle out. Moments of introversion mixed with extraversion and at times seemingly lost in thought? He was the one person who didn’t hug everyone goodbye and I guess this intrigued the psychologist in me. A sense of loss, shyness, narcissism? None of it made sense. But then he was someone who I came to admire. He joined in the massage circles, played and invented one of the most fun games of murder in the dark I have ever played and is genuinely an amazing photographer who absolutely does not brag about it. He also was very patient and humble ( 2 qualities I lack and admire greatly in others). He’s another person whom I’m glad I’ve met and am curious to see where he goes next.

Everyone on this trip was amazing. Every person has such empathy, care and maturity. I can’t think of a better way to have spent 6 days than meeting these souls. I’m really grateful for the experience and if anything, I learnt a lot of being humble myself (I need to calm down my own ego sometimes).

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senakoo-blog · 7 years

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It's Already Yours My maternal grandparents lived in the small fishing village of Pittenweem near Edinburgh in Scotland. They owned a house there. In 1939, at the start of World War II, they let their home to tenants. When the war ended, they wanted to return to their home but they were unable to. The law at the time allowed the tenants to remain in the house for as long as they lived, at approximately the same rent (with no adjustment for inflation!). For fifty years my grandparents were unable to get possession of the house they owned. My uncle inherited the house from my grandparents. By the time he got possession, the condition of the house had deteriorated greatly. He sold it for a very small sum. Although my family owned this house in Pittenweem, they never took possession of it. There is a big difference between ownership and possession. The people of Israel had been given ownership of Canaan, the Promised Land. Now Joshua says to the Israelites, ‘How long will you wait before you begin to take possession of the land…?’ (Joshua 18:3). The New Testament presents the ‘land’ as a picture of the Christian life (Hebrews 4). Realise what is already yours in Christ Jesus and then take possession of it. PROVERBS 10:31-11:8 Gift of righteousness Do you realise that God has already given to you the gift of righteousness? Have you taken possession of this gift? The writer of Proverbs contrasts ‘the wicked’ with ‘the righteous’. Wickedness will lead to destruction – ‘the unfaithful are destroyed by their duplicity… the wicked are brought down by their own wickedness’ (11:3b,5b). Most significantly of all, wickedness is undone by death: ‘When the wicked die, their hope perishes; all they expected from their power comes to nothing’ (v.7). On the other hand, ‘righteousness delivers from death’ (v.4b). This is one of the arguments the apostle Peter uses about Jesus on the Day of Pentecost – righteousness cannot rot: ‘It was impossible for death to keep its hold on him’ (Acts 2:24). No one is totally righteous except Jesus. Righteousness means right relationships, both with God and with other people. You receive this righteousness from God as a gift by faith (Romans 3:22; Philippians 3:9) but you have to take possession of it. You have to live it out. In this passage we see some examples of what this means. Wisdom ‘A good person’s mouth is a clear fountain of wisdom; a foul mouth is a stagnant swamp. The speech of a good person clears the air; the words of the wicked pollute it’ (Proverbs 10:31a,32a, MSG). Humility ‘The stuck-up fall flat on their faces, but down-to-earth people stand firm’ (11:2, MSG). Integrity ‘The integrity of the honest keeps them on track... a principled life can stand up to the worst’ (v.3a,4b, MSG). Character ‘Moral character makes for smooth travelling... Good character is the best insurance’ (v.5a,6a, MSG). Lord, I take possession of your gift of righteousness by faith. Help me to live a life of wisdom, humility, integrity and faithfulness. JOHN 1:29-51 Gift of the Holy Spirit Are you enjoying everything Jesus has made possible for you? Or are you still feeling guilty and powerless? Jesus came to bring forgiveness, new life and the power of the Holy Spirit to you. Make sure you take possession of what is already yours, today. In this passage we see a remarkable sequence of the titles given to Jesus. We have looked at a number of them before. Jesus is the ‘Son of God’ (vv.34,49), ‘Rabbi’ (v.38), ‘Messiah (that is, the Christ)’ (v.41), ‘the one whom Moses... and about whom the prophets also wrote’ (v.45), ‘King of Israel’ (v.49) and ‘Son of Man’ (v.51). I want to focus particularly on two titles in this passage that describe the ministry of Jesus. Sin remover The blood of the lamb saved the Israelites from slavery and allowed them to walk in freedom to the promised land (Exodus 11–15). John says of Jesus, ‘Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!’ (John 1:29). As you come to Jesus, he takes away your sins. Claim, trust, believe in the forgiveness bought for you. Actively reject feelings of guilt, shame or unworthiness. It is a proactive, practical, daily choice to take possession of the forgiveness that Jesus has made possible for you. Spirit baptiser John the Baptist describes Jesus as ‘the one who will baptise with the Holy Spirit’ (v.33). Jesus fills you with his Holy Spirit. This is what Jesus has made possible for you. However, you have to take possession of this wonderful gift that God has made available for you. Jesus invited Philip, ‘follow me’ (v.43). The Greek word for ‘to follow’ means not only ‘to walk in the footsteps’ but also to accompany, to be with. Jesus invites you, too, to a deep, personal friendship with him. Jesus also gives you the opportunity to do what John the Baptist did – to point others to him. Of course, God does not need a human agent. Jesus could continue his ministry without our help. However, we see in this passage how God uses people. Here it is not only Jesus who calls others directly, but his disciples. They bring their friends to Jesus: John the Baptist introduces Andrew (vv.35–36); Andrew introduces Peter (v.41) and Philip introduces Nathanael (v.45). Nathanael was suspicious at first, but then he came and immediately found that Jesus really was the Son of God (v.49). The former Archbishop of Canterbury, William Temple, wrote a commentary on John’s Gospel. When he came to the words ‘and he [Andrew] brought him [Simon Peter] to Jesus’ (v.42a), Temple wrote a short but momentous sentence: ‘The greatest service that one [person] can render another.’ Simon Peter went on to be one of the most significant influences in the history of Christianity. You may not be able to do what Peter did, but you can do what his brother Andrew did – you can bring someone to Jesus. Or, just like Philip, you can say ‘come and see’ (v.46) to your friends, family and work colleagues. You can be a part of God’s plan for people to hear about and respond to Jesus as you invite them to ‘come and see’. I have found that there is nothing more exciting in life than being involved in the ministry of Jesus. It is so gracious of God to involve us, imperfect human beings, in his perfect plan. Lord, help me today to enjoy this gift of forgiveness and the fullness of life in the Holy Spirit. Help me also to introduce others to you – to invite people to ‘come and see’ (v.46). JOSHUA 17:1-18:28 Gift of your inheritance Is there some area of your life where you are still not enjoying your inheritance in Christ? The land was the inheritance of the people of God (17:4,7; 18:7,20,27). ‘Joshua addressed the People of Israel: “How long are you going to sit around on your hands, putting off taking possession of the land that God, the God of your ancestors, has given you?”’ (18:3, MSG). Here, once again, we see the great difference between ownership and possession and enjoyment of the land. Israel was given the ownership of the land before they took possession and enjoyment. When you follow Jesus you become his friend. You receive forgiveness, justification, the righteousness of God and the Holy Spirit. You become a child of God. You have power over sin and access to God. You have victory over demonic powers. You have peace with God. You have authority over evil in your life and the lives of others. All the promises of God belong to you. This is your inheritance in Christ. But you may not always, necessarily, take possession and fully enjoy the blessing of all these things in your life. Here God says, in effect, to his people: ‘Don’t you realise I have given all of this to you? What are you waiting for?’ You may have given your life to Jesus, but have you allowed him to possess every aspect of how you live – your finances, work, prayer life, friends and family. In my experience this is a lifetime task. St Paul writes that you need to take every thought captive to obey Christ (2 Corinthians 10:5). In some areas the victory may be immediate. In others it may be more gradual. You have to drive out even the little pockets of resistance. As Israel received the land as a gift from the Lord (Joshua 18:3), so you and I have received, in Jesus, every spiritual blessing (Ephesians 1:3). The question is, ‘How long will you wait before you begin to take possession’ of these gifts? (Joshua 18:3). Lord, thank you that you have blessed me in Christ with every spiritual blessing. Help me today to take possession of what is already mine by faith through Jesus. Pippa Adds John 1:48 ‘“How do you know me?” Nathanael asked. Jesus answered, “I saw you while you were still under the fig-tree before Philip called you.”’ Jesus sees you wherever you are and whatever you are doing. You are known by him. Verse of the Day ‘Come and see’ (John 1:46b).

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