still trying to learn hair styling. Have to say its something that I've neglected over the years mainly because I've had shorter hair for obvious reasons. I am of course kicking myself now.

 

I am still on this road of discovery and still find it difficult to see the me everyone else sees. sometimes she jumps out of the screen at me like demon from a horror film gives me a slap around the face then buggers off again leaving me to remember I am her now. still don't know where I am going or where road the will lead, Every now and then things leap forward at an uncontrollable pace and I have to hit the anchors of the runaway train before someone gets hurt.

 

Don't get me wrong I an not unhappy its just it can be blinking scary sometimes.

Dratini continually molts and sloughs off its old skin. It does so because the life energy within its body steadily builds to reach uncontrollable levels.

Jennifer Walters is a lawyer who, after an injury, received an emergency blood transfusion from her cousin, Bruce Banner, and acquired a milder version of his Hulk condition. As such, Walters becomes a large, powerful, green-hued version of herself. Unlike Banner she largely retains her personality, in particular the majority of her intelligence and emotional control. Like Hulk, she is still susceptible to outbursts of anger and becomes much stronger when enraged.

 

She-Hulk has been a member of the Avengers, the Fantastic Four, Heroes for Hire, the Defenders, Fantastic Force and S.H.I.E.L.D. As a highly skilled lawyer who became a superhero by accident, she frequently leverages her legal and personal experience to serve as legal counsel to various superheroes and other metahumans. She-Hulk has been described as one of Marvel's most notable and powerful female heroes.

 

Jennifer Walters, the cousin of Bruce Banner (Hulk), is the small and somewhat shy daughter of Los Angeles County Sheriff William Morris Walters and Elaine (née Banner) Walters (who died in a car crash when Jennifer was 17).

 

Operatives of Nicholas Trask, a crime boss who had crossed paths with her father, shot and seriously wounded her on the day that Banner visited her to tell her about his transformation into the Hulk.

 

Since no other donors with her blood type were available, Banner provided his blood for a transfusion; as they already shared the same blood type and DNA, his gamma-irradiated blood, combined with her anger, transformed Jennifer into the green-skinned She-Hulk when the mobsters tried to finish her off at the hospital.

 

She then used her new powers to take down Trask, who was killed when the earth-boring device he rode malfunctioned, taking him to the center of the Earth.

 

As She-Hulk, Jennifer possessed powers similar to those of her cousin, though at a reduced level. She also possessed a less monstrous, more Amazonian appearance. Initially, anger triggered the transformation to her She-Hulk form (as with Bruce Banner's).

 

Like her cousin Bruce, his counterpart, the Leader, Doc Samson and most other persons mutated by exposure to gamma radiation over the years, her mutated form was originally explained as being molded by her subconscious desire to look like the ideal woman.

 

She eventually gains control of her transformations when Michael Morbius cures her of a lethal blood disease. As a criminal defense lawyer, she defended Morbius in his trial for his vampiric killings and managed to reduce the conviction to involuntary manslaughter, considering his medical condition.

 

Eventually, Jennifer decides that she will retain her She-Hulk form permanently—preferring the freedom, confidence, and assertiveness it gave her compared to her more timorous and fragile "normal" form. After her brief solo career, she joined the Avengers.

 

This led to her being transported to Battleworld by the Beyonder and her participation in the Secret Wars is most notable for sparking her long-standing rivalry with the newly empowered Titania.

 

After the heroes returned to Earth, she temporarily replaced the Thing (who, having been repeatedly de-powered during the event, opted to stay in Battleworld for some time as a form of soul-searching) as a member of the Fantastic Four.

 

During her tenure with the Fantastic Four, She-Hulk met and started a romance with Wyatt Wingfoot. One day, she had to prevent a radiation leak in a downed S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier. This radiation exposure drastically affected Jennifer: she could no longer transform back into her original human form. However, this was an agreeable turn of events for her, since she preferred being She-Hulk, and it was revealed much later by Leonard Samson and Reed Richards that the block was purely psychological.

 

Shortly after that, she appeared before the Supreme Court, where she battled Titania again.

 

After her Fantastic Four years, She-Hulk rejoined the Avengers for a while. She became hypnotized by the Ringmaster into becoming a performer in the Circus of Crime, and battled the Headmen.

 

With Spider-Man, she defeated the Headmen and became an assistant District Attorney and began working for New York City district attorney Blake Tower. Here she met Louise "Weezie" Grant Mason, formerly the Golden Age superheroine the Blonde Phantom. She had a long series of unusual encounters, including when she battled Doctor Bong, first contended against Xemnu the Living Titan, encountered "Nick St. Christopher", and encountered "Spragg the Living Hill/Comet".

 

Jennifer underwent another change, transforming into a grey version of She-Hulk that appeared at night only and shared a lot in common with the Hulk, such as having a childlike mind, speaking in the third person and divorcing from her Jennifer Walters identity, referring to Jennifer as "puny Jennifer", She-Hulk quickly returned to "normal", with her green coloration returning.

 

She-Hulk later discovered that Louise Mason had manipulated Tower into hiring her, so that Mason might again perform as a super-heroine (and thus avoid dying of old age). Later, while doing legal work for Heroes for Hire, She-Hulk spent some time dating Luke Cage.

 

After a time, She-Hulk returns to the Avengers. Repeated exposure to the presence of her teammate Jack of Hearts, who has the innate ability to absorb radiation that is around him, leads to She-Hulk being unable to control her changes, which resulted in her tearing the Vision in half.

 

It is then revealed that all of the events were caused by the Scarlet Witch. Now, when she is afraid, she not only turns into She-Hulk but her mind becomes maddened by paranoia and rage. Jennifer flees, fearing that she will endanger her friends and others, leading to the "Search for She-Hulk".

 

The other Avengers track her to the town of Bone, Idaho, where Jennifer is lying low but the anxiety of being found prompts her to change, causing her to damage much of the town. Her cousin shows up but fails to reason with her; he "Hulks out" and the two fight—the devastation to the town subsequently being blamed on the Hulk.

 

Psychological limitations inhibit her transformation between her two forms. For a time, Jennifer works as a relief volunteer helping to repair Bone. She gains confidence after solving a murder mystery, reveals her green alter-ego to the entire town, and then uses her strength to make many more repairs. This, combined with Leonard Samson's new 'gamma-charger', gives her full control over her transformations for, as she said, 'the time being'.

 

She-Hulk registered under the Superhuman Registration Act, and is a supporter of Tony Stark (Iron Man). However, as an attorney, she advised individuals on both sides of the Civil War.

 

She agreed to file suit against Peter Parker for fraud on behalf of her father-in-law, Daily Bugle publisher J. Jonah Jameson. Her intention is to keep the suit tied up in the courts indefinitely. She is also the lawyer for Speedball.

 

Then Clay Quartermain of S.H.I.E.L.D. informs Jennifer that she has been drafted into the organization as a result of her registration. Her mission is to fight various foes of the Hulk while training heroes under the Initiative. She serves with the Hulkbusters: Clay Quartermain, Agent Crimson, Agent Cheesecake and Agent Beefcake.

 

Due to her involvement in S.H.I.E.L.D., She-Hulk derives a bit of information suggesting that the organization knows of her cousin's whereabouts. Anticipating a problem, Tony Stark has She-Hulk secretly injected with S.P.I.N. Tech that transforms her to human form. Enraged, she tells Stark that, although he may have taken She-Hulk out of the equation, he still has to face Jennifer Walters, one of the best lawyers in the country. Jennifer informs Stark that he's miscalculated: She-Hulk would have just pummeled him, but Jennifer Walters has the ability to destroy him.

 

On her way home, Jennifer runs into Amadeus Cho, a young genius out looking for friends of the Hulk. Cho, whom the Hulk once saved, discovered what the Illuminati had done to the Hulk, and he wants help in finding him. Cho temporarily restores Jennifer's powers so that she can take out Doc Samson, who came to apprehend Cho for Reed Richards and Tony Stark. Cho says he can permanently restore Jennifer's powers if she will join him, but she politely refuses, instead directing him to Hercules and Angel.

 

During the "World War Hulk" event, a re-powered She-Hulk assists in the evacuation of Manhattan. She tries to reason with her cousin, who has just destroyed Stark Tower during his battle with Iron Man. The Hulk warns her to leave, but she stands her ground. After she lands a punch squarely to his face, the Hulk smashes her into the ground, creating a crater around her body. As he moves on to his next confrontation, all Jennifer can say is: "God help us all."

 

Jennifer is held captive with the other defeated heroes at Madison Square Garden, which the Hulk has converted into a gladiatorial arena. The heroes have been implanted with the same obedience discs that compelled the Hulk and his allies to fight one another during their time on the planet Sakaar.

 

Jennifer returns to the law firm to work on suing Tony Stark for stealing her powers. She is subpoenaed to give a testimony in a case in which Mallory Book is trying to prove that the Leader's criminal acts are the result of a shift of personality induced by his mutation, and an addiction to his gamma irradiated powers, and that he thus cannot be held accountable for his actions.

 

During her testimony, Jennifer realizes that she herself is "addicted" to being She-Hulk. After the testimony, Pug appears and the two spend an evening together as friends, which cheers her up. She confronts Mallory the next day and tells her that she will put a stop to her Leader case. However, it is revealed that the Leader has been acquitted of his crimes.

 

At some point after World War Hulk, Jennifer was brought before the Living Tribunal, and asked to weigh her universe against a newer, better "cosmic trophy wife" version, described by Walters as "an ultimate universe." Her universe wins, and she resigns from the Magistrati.

 

After the Leader's trial, Artie Zix reveals himself as RT-Z9 and holds the main staff of GLK&H hostage while asking them questions at the behest of a group of aliens from a corner of the galaxy recently discovered by the Watcher Qyre. The aliens, called the Recluses, wish to keep their existence a secret.

 

She-Hulk earlier decreed that Qyre not reveal knowledge of the Recluses' existence at the meetings of the Watchers.

 

This had serious repercussions: it is revealed that an evil being has conquered that portion of the galaxy, and is preparing an assault on all of creation. Qyre, who holds knowledge of the plan, is unable to speak of it to anyone else. At She-Hulk's time trial, it was revealed that her actions made a destructive event called the Reckoning War possible. However, comments made by the future Southpaw, divulge that the war, though a terrible and dark time, will be favorably resolved.

 

A permanently de-powered Jennifer Walters finds that tourists from an alternate universe – designated the Alpha universe – are crossing into her universe – which they call Beta – to gain access to superpowers and comes face to face with her own powered-up doppelganger.

 

Her anger quickly turns to sorrow as she realizes that without her abilities, the Alpha Jennifer Walters – while unfamiliar with superhuman law – is far better suited to life in the Beta universe. Realizing this, she decides that she will go to the Alpha universe and let the other Jennifer Walters take over for her.

 

As she steps through the portal, Reed Richards realizes he can use the previously stored configuration of the Alpha She-Hulk to restore Jennifer's powers by purging the nanites from her body and setting the teleporter to loop her back to this reality.

 

Having regained her abilities, Jennifer remains in her home reality, while the Alpha Jen Walters returns to her own universe and reconciles with her boyfriend, the Alpha Augustus "Pug" Pugliese.

 

At an unspecified time after World War Hulk, She-Hulk assists Tony Stark with Emil Blonsky's murder investigation.

 

While in Stark's Helicarrier, she is attacked and beaten by the Red Hulk who states to her that he's not Bruce. She-Hulk vows to get even for the deliberate humiliation.

 

She later helps to prevent casualties in San Francisco after the Red Hulk caused an earthquake in the area, and assembles Thundra and the Valkyrie together to capture him.

 

Some months after regaining her abilities, Jennifer was tasked to defend an accused killer named Arthur Moore. While she was successful in defending him, immediately after his freedom was secured he claimed to be guilty and showed her images of the crimes he had been accused of.

 

Jennifer's horror at what she was being shown, combined with Moore's gloating, was enough to push her rage so far that she became the savage She-Hulk once again. She attacked him and threatened to kill him if he was not given the death penalty. She also told everybody within earshot that he was guilty and backed up her accusation by revealing privileged information.

 

This resulted in her being disbarred. Jennifer later found out that Moore really was innocent; the images he had shown her had been false. It was also revealed, albeit not to Jennifer, that Moore had hoped to get her to react exactly the way she did since his employers wanted She-Hulk disbarred for purposes as yet unknown.

 

Unable to practice law any more, Jennifer began working for Freeman Bonds Inc. – a subsidiary of GLK&B – as a bounty hunter with her Skrull partner Jazinda.

 

She was later recruited by Stark as a member of an Initiative-sponsored incarnation of the Defenders for a short while until Tony Stark disbanded the team.

Afterwards, she continued to aid team leader Nighthawk for a brief time until she was fully able to join the team on Nighthawk's request and that it would be away from the Initiative.

 

Together they have several adventures, even encountering Hercules, but they soon ended up involved in the midst of the Secret Invasion.

 

During the Skrull takeover of Earth during Secret Invasion, She-Hulk and Jazinda hunt down a member of the Skrulls who functions as their religious leader.

 

X-Factor initially impedes her progress, but they part ways on uncertain terms. She-Hulk and Jazinda capture the Skrull and the two heroines take the Skrull to New York, where they encounter the Super-Skrull, Kl'rt.

 

Kl'rt came to kill his daughter, Jazinda, going so far as to shoot her in the head. Due to her regenerative properties, Jazinda was still not fully dead. The Skrull religious leader wants to completely remove her regenerative ability, but Kl'rt stops him after She-Hulk pleads to his fatherly nature, tapping into his guilt for not being able to save his son who had died in a previous war.

 

Some time after the Skrull invasion is defeated, the country of Marinmer suffers a devastating earthquake.

 

Because the victims of the earthquake are members of a minority religious group, the Marinmer government has confiscated all humanitarian aid packages, and because of Marinmer's strong ties to powerful countries such as Russia and China, other nations refuse to intervene for fear of sparking a war.

 

She-Hulk and several members of the Lady Liberators secretly enter Marinmer, intending to steal the confiscated aid packages and distribute them to the earthquake victims.

 

The Winter Guard attempts to stop them, but gives up after seeing the plight of the earthquake victims.

 

Afterwards, the US government attempts to arrest She-Hulk for her actions in Marinmer, but drops the charges to avoid political embarrassment. With public opinion overwhelmingly in her favor, She-Hulk seems poised to get her legal license back when Jazinda is captured by the Behemoth after he mistakenly attacks her, thinking she is the real She-Hulk.

 

Jazinda is then taken to a government lab and brutally experimented on when her ability to resurrect herself from the dead is discovered. Jazinda contacts She-Hulk telepathically through a secretly implanted mind reading device and warns her that the government will be coming to question her about their relationship.

 

Jazinda tells She-Hulk to say she did not know Jazinda was a Skrull. When she sees Jazinda about to be vivisected, she loses control and breaks Jazinda out.

 

The Behemoth tries to stop her, but She-Hulk defeats him with the help of the Lady Liberators. Later it is revealed that Mallory Book, her former boss, was behind all the bad things happening to She-Hulk along with a group called the "Fourth Wall". Yet when she saw She-Hulk risk herself to save her Skrull friend, Book "cancelled" the plan.

 

Later, Jennifer tasks Ben Urich to discover the identity of Red Hulk. She informs him that she is unable to as she has asked too many questions to the wrong people. She has Urich bring a photographer (Peter Parker), and meets him along with her insider, Doc Samson, and they venture into a S.H.I.E.L.D. base that is actually a front for A.I.M. and General Ross's Gamma Power Super Soldier Program.

 

Leonard Samson then appears to have a breakdown, but in reality he is changing into Samson. Samson claims to be stronger and faster (and is larger in size, has longer hair and a lightning bolt scar) than Jennifer.

 

The clashing duo are subdued by MODOK and the facility explodes in the aftermath of a fight between Red Hulk and Hulk; Jennifer, Samson (who has reverted to Leonard) and Red Hulk are caught in the explosion. Jennifer's status is unknown and Red Hulk does not reveal anything to Urich when the two meet a second time.

 

While She-Hulk is M.I.A., the Red She-Hulk makes her first appearance where she claims Jennifer Walters to be dead.

 

It was later shown in a flashback that Red She-Hulk prevented Jennifer Walters from escaping from A.I.M. custody. During this battle, Red She-Hulk brutally beat Jennifer and snapped her neck with a cable. In the last panel, Jennifer Walters appeared to be dead with the Red She-Hulk standing over her body, though the Red She-Hulk claims she did not know her own strength.

 

She then questions Doc Samson whether it was the real She-Hulk or a Life-Model Decoy, to which Samson answers "You're here to follow orders, not to ask questions". Lyra later infiltrates the Intelligencia, where she finds Jennifer in stasis. Following a brief fight with the Red She-Hulk, the three decide to team up to take down Intelligencia's forces.

 

Following the defeat of the Intelligencia, Jennifer begins traveling with her cousin Bruce, Skaar, Korg, Rick Jones and Betty Ross.

 

Shortly after the events of World War Hulks, Skaar becomes aware that his brother Hiro-Kala is approaching and that he intends to crash the planet K'ai into the Earth. She-Hulk is on the team as they manage to successfully avert disaster. Upon returning to Earth, they find the world in flames as it is in the grasp of the Chaos War. They journey to Hell, where they fight and defeat the Chaos King. Returning to a restored Earth, they are greeted as monsters.

 

At some point before or after these events, Jennifer and Lyra end up in New York, where Lyra begins to attend high school in an attempt to gain an understanding of humanity as it occurs in this timeline. As well as helping to integrate Lyra into society, they are also involved in trying to round up the remaining members of the Intelligencia.

 

They manage to round up the Intelligencia, but the Wizard is able to escape imprisonment and goes after Lyra at her high school prom, almost killing her before She-Hulk intervenes, knocking out Wizard but not before Lyra's secret identity has been compromised.

 

The rest of the pupils turn on Lyra as a result of her prom date being injured and the endangerment of everyone at the dance. She-Hulk explains to her afterwards that they have to leave and that despite being heroes, the life of a Hulk is often lonely.

 

During the Fear Itself evemt, She-Hulk joins with Howard the Duck, Nighthawk and the Frankenstein Monster to form a four-person team called the Fearsome Four to stop the Man-Thing from its destructive path. They later discover a plot by Psycho-Man to use the Man-Thing's volatile empathy to create a weapon.

 

Prior to a time- and multiverse-spanning trip by the Fantastic Four and family, the Thing asks She-Hulk to be a member of the Future Foundation.

 

When the Hulk is elevated into "Doc Green" – a version of the Hulk possessing Bruce Banner's intellect – after he is treated for a shot to the head as Bruce Banner by use of the Extremis virus, he sets out to attack and cure other gamma-based mutations.

 

Steve Rogers attempts to order the Hulk to stop before he goes after She-Hulk, but when Doc Green finally confronts her, he instead admits that he has come to recognize that he is coming dangerously close to the Maestro, as part of him enjoyed eliminating his 'rivals', having decided instead to accept the eventual loss of his intellect as Extremis wore off rather than risk that persona emerging.

 

Informing She-Hulk that she is the only gamma mutation whose life he felt had been legitimately enhanced by her condition, Doc Green provides her with the last injection of his cure, asking her to use it on him if he goes too far in his efforts to stop an A.I. version of himself that he created and unleashed.

 

In Gwenpool's first Christmas event, Howard the Duck invited her to She-Hulk's Christmas party on the provision that she has not killed any good guys recently. She shows up and karaokes with Ms. Marvel.

 

There were dozens of superhumans in attendance, proving that whether she is acting as a hero or not, She-Hulk keeps strong ties to the super-community.

 

During the 2016 Civil War II event, after the Inhuman Ulysses predicts Thanos' arrival on Earth, She-Hulk was mortally wounded by a direct attack from the villain in question.

 

When Iron Man learns that they used Ulysses' precognitive power to ambush Thanos, he vows to make sure that no one uses it again. Before She-Hulk goes into cardiac arrest, she tells Captain Marvel to fight for the future.

 

After Hawkeye was acquitted for shooting Bruce Banner, Captain Marvel visited She-Hulk, who came out of her coma. When She-Hulk angrily demanded to know the verdict of Hawkeye's trial, Captain Marvel remained silent.

 

Following Bruce Banner's funeral, Jennifer Walters left the superhero business and continued to work as a lawyer, where she gained her first client: Maise Brewn, who was an Inhuman descendant.

 

Due to the stress following the fight with Thanos, Jennifer started turning uncontrollably into her version of the Grey Hulk at different intervals. Jennifer helped Maise when she was recovering from the trauma and being evicted by her landlord Mr. Tick.

 

When Maise got impatient with Jennifer and summoned a Fear Golem that killed Mr. Tick and some police officers, Jennifer is nearly killed by it and transforms into the Hulk. She defeated the Fear Golem and prevented Maise from committing suicide when Maise was arrested for reckless endangerment afterwards.

 

Afterwards, Jennifer transformed into the Hulk and met the Hellcat. After changing back, Jennifer told the Hellcat that she was worried over the fact that her grey color could mean that she is like Bruce (since Bruce also had a grey incarnation).

 

Later, Jennifer was watching a live video on the internet when a baker named Oliver turned into a Hulk-like creature on-camera. Jennifer spent several days trying to track him down, eventually confronting him as the Hulk at the Brooklyn Bridge. During the following battle, she lost control of her Hulk persona, almost killing him, though the Hellcat managed to calm her down. However, the incident left Jennifer worried about losing control again.

 

Some time later, the Leader kidnapped Jennifer and forced her to transform into the Hulk in order to force her to kill his new assistant, Robyn, who willingly went through a blood transfusion in order to become a Hulk-like monster herself. The Hulk nearly killed Robyn, but Jennifer managed to regain control, before defeating the Leader by electrocuting him.

 

Jen then went with self-help writer Florida Mayer, who used a special pill to transport Jennifer to her subconscious, leading her to confront her Hulk persona and illusions of Thanos and Banner, finally overcoming her trauma in the process. Upon waking, Jennifer reverted to her standard green She-Hulk persona.

 

During the war against the Cotati, She-Hulk is revealed to have been killed and replaced by a Cotati, attacking the Avengers when they tried to negotiate a truce with their new enemy, the heroes only surviving the attack thanks to the Invisible Woman's forcefield, although the Cotati/She-Hulk then beats down the Thing and retreats.

 

Invisible Woman, Mantis, and Thing are locked in combat with the Cotati-possessed She-Hulk. Back in New York, Jo-Venn and N'kalla release their positive memories which revives She-Hulk enough to break the Cotati off of her and to stop the fighting between the Kree and the Skrull. When the Cotati are defeated, She-Hulk and Thor take Sequoia away.

 

It turns out that She-Hulk was able to return to life thanks to Leader who has mastered the way to control the Green Door.

 

⚡ Happy 🎯 Heroclix 💫 Friday! 👽

_____________________________

A year of the shows and performers of the Bijou Planks Theater.

 

Secret Identity: Jennifer Walters

 

Publisher: Marvel

 

First appearance: The Savage She-Hulk #1 (February 1980)

 

Created by: Stan Lee (Writer)

John Buscema (Artist)

 

See Shulkie in action in Paprihaven! Standing up to fake goddesses:

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/45639543754/

Getting slung around by giants:

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/46780598762/

Driving her She-Hulk mobile:

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/44546396654/

And hanging out A LOT with Ben Grimm:

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/29031998558/

Every year, some time around now, the morning post plops onto the doormat at 123 Somewhereintheblackcountry Street, Walsall, England (not a real address – or an impressive and unintended coincidence if it is). A stovepipe hat wearing septuagenarian hears the sound of the letterbox flap dropping back into place and shuffles along the hall to where among the myriad leaflets for home delivery pizza services that have spread across the floor, he finds and opens an envelope, in which lies a cheque made payable to a Mr N Holder for a very large sum of money. Attached to the cheque is a note which screams “IT’S CHRISTMAS!!!, Love you Noddy, from the people in charge of the dishing out the royalties.” All is well in the world and this famous pensioner will survive the year ahead in comfort and unaffected by the astronomical wholesale price increases in gas and electricity. All because of a song he sung as the front man of a band called Slade nearly fifty years ago that still gets blasted across the airwaves in every supermarket, every workplace and at every party across the land as soon as the bunting goes up in early November. Merry Christmas Everbody!

 

I really hate that song. In fact, that’s pretty much my position on all popular Christmas songs. In fact (and you may need to read the next bit with your eyes covered because it contains a blasphemy), I even hate “Fairytale of New York,” and that’s an undeniably wonderful record – everyone loves that one don’t they? I know that makes no sense, but when you hear these songs played on loop time after time, year after year wherever you go, whether you asked to hear them or not, you start to wonder how much more of it you can take. But most of all, I can’t stand that song by Slade; the one I’ve been forced to listen to for weeks on end every year since I was seven years old. Anyone coming into my office during the festive period (or any other period for that matter) was far more likely to be serenaded with Black Sabbath or Rainbow; or maybe Billie Holliday if I was in a more reflective mood. If they popped their heads through the door to say goodbye at the end of the day, then they might find me sitting at my desk with my head in my hands, lost somewhere amidst Dave Gilmour’s guitar break from “Comfortably Numb.” I always save Pink Floyd for the most important moments.

 

So you’re probably thinking to yourself, “what a miserable old curmudgeon he is, listening to Pink Floyd while we’re all being invited to Step into Christmas by Elton John” and you may be right, but it’s just that I’ve never been comfortable with what someone I once knew rather creatively referred to as “enforced jollity.” I like to enjoy things (including Christmas) in my own quiet way, and I never understand why people feel the need to almost bankrupt themselves in the annual budget race as they seek out the most extravagant crackers and a turkey the size of a small ostrich. Most people don’t even like turkey because no matter what recipe they follow, the resulting Christmas Day roast is a dry as a fortnight in Lanzarote. Answers on a postcard please. In fact, Ali and I were supposed to be in Lanzarote at the moment, but the arrival of Omicron B put the frighteners on us and we postponed that much wanted dose of winter Vitamin D. Although in retrospect it seems we may as well have gone in any case.

 

Lee and I were discussing the pleasures of the Yuletide season on the way to a place where you can’t hear Slade on Monday, and concluded that the best thing ever about Christmas is the break from work. He said his wife couldn’t wait to have thirteen days catching up on sleep and overdosing on cheese, which pretty much echoed my favourite memories of the festive period in the days when work ruled everything. A couple of days earlier, after some lengthy discussions around whether we were really bothered at all about it, Ali and I had finally decided to drag the decorations out of the loft. It was a slow process, interrupted by her insistence on singing the words of non Christmas songs to the wrong tunes; something she does deliberately at regular intervals to make me think I’ve finally lost the plot completely. Either that or she’s in the mood to amuse herself by awakening the uncontrollable pedant that lurks close to the surface, ever waiting to be invited to the table because she knows that the person who hates this trait in me most of all is myself. This time she was warbling happily away with the sparse lyrics of Lieutenant Pigeon’s “Mouldy Old Dough” to the tune of Roger Whittaker’s “Dirty of Town.” Try it for yourself – it works rather neatly in fact. So to correct her and also make sure my own memory was still intact, I located a YouTube video of the eternally bizarre “Mouldy Old Dough” and the next three minutes were lost to a bout of uncoordinated movements that were supposed to pass for dancing in the hallway as we procrastinated on the Christmas decorations. With further similar bouts of irrelevant and deliberate dithering, it took all day to finish assembling the fifteen year old artificial Virginia Pine and covering it in baubles and tinsel.

 

So, it seems appropriate that miserable old souls such as mine are cast into the wilderness, to a place where the strains of Slade’s annual reign can’t reach, and I can enjoy the sound of not very much at all. After all, a brain as full as much useless nonsense as this one contains needs a quiet space in which to recover. On Monday, we found such silent contentment in the misty and rainy wilds of Dartmoor, an early start delivering us to the abandoned Nun’s Cross Farm, where the only other human we saw was a lone trail runner who wasn’t playing Slade on his headphones as far as I could tell. Life seems so much easier in places where nobody is urging you to join in the fun and sing along with everyone else. And no, I’m not going to wear a paper crown either, just because we always do.

 

Today’s post is dedicated to all you similarly minded people whose only crime is to want to escape the madness of enforced jollity. For those of you who love the madness, do have fun, but please leave us out of it – we’re happy being miserable after all. It’s why we come to places like Nun’s Cross Farm in the pouring rain in December.

 

And as for Mariah Carey - let's not even go there..........

 

...are merely hallucinations.

 

Well, that's what I've been told and now believe.

 

While at a conference a while ago, I had an idea. Specifically to have my photo taken while lounging on a polished stone fountain wall in a busy hotel lobby.

 

Why? Really do not know, except I felt it would be regretful to not do it.

 

No, it would not be among life's most common big regrets voiced by people facing the end.

 

But, don't you think little regrets are indicators of, or builders of, larger ones?

 

If I had not made this pose, and have a photo to prove it, I figured it would be an indicator that I was not living life authentically - unnecessarily in fear of what others might think.

 

That's one of the common big regrets!

 

So fortified by this little step, it felt good to make progress towards a larger one.

 

There are many regrets built into life that seem uncontrollable. Why add to them?

 

Nora

 

PS - This maxi is among my favs. Like it?

 

Today would have been our first day out to have coffee in the backyard, which we had planned and prepared for months. I sit alone, wishing you were here. The sorrow is uncontrollable. I miss you so much.

My hair gets really uncontrollable when I'm near an ocean.

My Mom says it is all the salt.

 

I think it's magic.

326 | 365

 

“Life is truly known only to those who suffer, lose, endure adversity and stumble from defeat to defeat.” - Anais Nin

 

Love will tear us apart again.

 

[There are some things in life that jostle you so thoroughly, you're left reeling for an indeterminate amount of time. And *sometimes* when you're already reeling, you reel further due to other occurrences heaping on top of the initial thing that sent you reeling. At which point you might find yourself spinning uncontrollably, in such a way that eating and sleeping become less and less likely options--until you give up on them altogether. It then becomes *exciting* when you feel a small hunger pang or stinging in your eyes that seems to be your body weakly telling you you need to address those once habitual basic needs you used to meet.

 

So. That's where I'm at. I don't know what it is about my life, but things really do come in threes for me. Three deaths, three breakups in three years, three relationships...three cars. Okay maybe that last one doesn't matter. But--it's odd. At this point I don't know if I'm becoming superstitious or just losing my mind. Let's hope for the former, because the latter really sounds like a bother.

 

I really want anyone reading this who might also be going through hard times to know--deeply--that they are not alone. I don't care how cliche it sounds.]

 

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KCS 4688 decided enough was enough that morning and its prime mover decided to "run away". This occurred at the west end of KCS Knoche Yard at the Service Track. You could see the smoke pouring from the ES44AC from up to 10 miles away.

 

A runaway diesel engine is a mechanical ailment that is the result of seals failing, thus allowing the engine to combust its own lube oil as fuel, rather than diesel. This causes the engine to overspeed, and essentially the RPM's increase uncontrollably.

 

The only way to stop an engine from doing this once a runaway begins is to shut off the source of intake air for combustion and starve the process of oxygen. In the case of a diesel prime mover this large, this task is basically impossible. Essentially all you can do is wait until the engine runs out of lube oil and either stops running, seizes up, or suffers a severe mechanical failure, sometimes in the form of an explosion.

 

The 4688 made one awful noise when it seized up and flamed out at the end. KCFD was on scene to put the flame out in the end. Also on scene were KCS and GE Officials from the nearby locomotive shop, as well as KCPD for traffic control on Front Street due to the smokescreen being laid down from the stack.

 

After all of that, KCS used this photo and it scrolled across 60 inch TV screens on a slide show in their headquarters building for at least year.

 

Locomotive: KCS 4688

 

8-20-12

Kansas City, MO

Life has turned upside down with the result that its speed has taken on new dimensions. While some of us cannot remember their last time-out, others feel locked in an infinite expanse of time. And so many are left with boredom, loneliness, existential fears, and endless unanswered questions.

 

In lots of cases, there are no final answers in life. And while this is a general statement, this fact seems to have recently become our most significant threat. Though worrying is a natural reaction to danger, it is questionable until which amount it has a positive impact.

 

There are various things one can do to contribute. Still, individual action has its limits. And although one cannot take over the uncontrollable, one can focus on what can be controlled. While this time-out is a challenge for everyone, we still have the power to gain control over ourselves.

  

www.pietschy.de/time-out/

In this photo the bulls are nearing the finishing post and they must turn left to avoid running into the embankment straight ahead with people standing on top of it. The bulls are not in gallop mode as you can see in Photo 1 of the series and I guess are slowing down.

  

--------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Adoor in Kerala holds its famous Bull Races every year around the time of Onam. It is a celebration of agrarian existence and is carried on without any grants or aid from the Government. This is a spectacular fiesta of rural Kerala. There are 2-3 other such events that are held in Kerala.

 

Two racing bulls are hitched together and three men come into action. Two racers with lead ropes on either side of the bulls who try to control the direction and speed if possible and one often obscured by sprays of mud and water, a jockey who rides on a small flat strip of wood.

 

The bulls race ahead with the men keeping desperately abreast of the thundering hooves. At the end of the racing track there is a 4-6 feet embankment of earth which acts as a protection and a marker for the bulls. The embankment gets totally crowded with onlookers. The bull racers need to turn the bull around and do a 360 degree here but most times that effort fails as the bulls in their racing frenzy would be uncontrollable.

 

I have no idea on the current status of the bull races. There are enough organisations howling to stop such races but the Supreme Court of India in a judgement a few months ago allowed bull/bullock cart races to go on in Punjab. So chances are that the tradition may still live on.

  

Dates

Taken on August 15, 2007 at 1.16pm IST (edit)

Posted to Flickr September 18, 2012 at 11.18AM IST (edit)

Exif data

Camera Nikon D70

Exposure 0.001 sec (1/1000)

Aperture f/4.0

Focal Length 70 mm

ISO Speed 200

Exposure Bias 0 EV

Flash Off, Did not fire

DSC_0379 via ACR

Even heroes will get mad sometimes...

 

This is Laxus' alternate form when he gets serious in battle. He discards his lightning powers for plasma and becomes an even greater force to be reckon with! However, his uncontrollable temper during this form may lead regretful decisions and unthinkable consequences later on when he reverts back to normal.

 

I've found myself some free time and decided to moc a bit. I have this idea of an alt form for Laxus for quite some time and wanted to try it out. Turns out, it's pretty good. I'm grateful that I bought breakout Nex now :P

 

As always, thanks for stopping by and C&C is always appreciated! :D

Or Something....

 

Spent my day off working at Kohls. Ugh.... just not the same place I left.... but I did get to work with my friends, and be ridiculed for wearing camo pants.... by my friend that I ran the Lincoln Tunnel 5K with last year and will run again this year... as I tried to stop her from working and thank her for never returning my text messages. Her answer...

“Torrie, I hear you, but I can’t see you.... but just keep talking....” I’ve been texting her to let her know that I have been “training “ for the 5K and she reminded me that I am in the upper end of my age bracket and have to outrun all of the people that are almost 10 years younger than me and are still driven, serious runners. Thanks buddy!! But today I did get a text from her telling me that she ran 4 miles today and thanked me for the inspiration. And then there were the usual conversations with Sharon that make absolutely no sense to anyone but us and end in uncontrollable laughter.

They are my favorite conversations, when she just starts to laugh, stops everything and says “Have I told you today that I love you?” and hugs me. That makes working in total chaos and “negativity central” worthwhile. (Everyone should be so lucky to work with someone like that!) But yes, the place has some serious issues... You know it’s bad when one of the managers opens the door for you in the morning and says.... “What the heck happened to your shoe department? They are fighting like cats and dogs back there!” Yeah...they are. I guess I really was good at my job there. I never had those problems.

 

After work, it was time for my weekly drive to my window for a photo.... praying that no one else showed up there because I really didn’t want to have to explain THIS! I would have felt very very foolish. And yes, I did wear this costume.... back in the day... on stage.... in front of people.... and it was a blast! Later my son stopped home as I was getting ready to go out and run and he told me I didn’t have to go, and we went out and got something to eat. When he was leaving, I said I was going to go out and run.... and he said “NOW?!! In the dark? That’s not very smart. You’re not really going to do that?!” So after he left, at 8:45 pm, I went out to run.... in the dark... with a flashlight and a head lamp.... and when I was done, I sent him my screen shot from Map My Run... and he texted me back ... “You’re Nuts!” Yes, yes I am. But.... the show must go on! Because I’m not going back to work tomorrow and having to admit that I missed a day... something about goals.... and deals.... oh, and something about raspberry syrup!! ; ) So, yeah, the show MUST go on!

Well, people ask me to write the 16 things in english too,so here it is! (with a lot of mistakes!)

 

Not that all these things are really important, but if you wanna know about Nika, I think she is pretty much like this:

 

1. A complete happy frustrated rockstar.

 

2. Seven crazy talkative consciences, that are never in a agreement, spend the day talking inside her brain.

 

3. She wrote letters for herself on the future, so she will be able to remember all the things she dreamed and that matters for her when she was a child.

 

4. She wrote a book, that makes sense for just two persons in this world.

 

5. She is a compulsory maniac reader of car's plates to discover from which city they are.

 

6. There is a frog inside her, who has uncontrollable hiccups EVERYDAY on the most random moments ever.

 

7. When she gets old, she and some friends will "build" an Old West city and live the rest of their lifes in a "bang bang" style.

 

8. The Inspiration, the muse, the drug, the addiction: Music!

  

9. A fluorescent green martian E.T. lives inside her wardrobe about three years.

 

10. Her dream is to have a penguin named Au.

 

11. If she was a man, her name would be Little Onion and she would wear a hat and sunglasses and play blues on her harmonica. (I think this is not making any sense hahaha)

 

12. She has serious problems wih the number 22.

 

13. There's a HAKUNA MATATA on the wall of her bedroom, for the tense moments.

 

14. She studies biomedical engineering, but she also wants to study cinema and oceanography. The plan is to discover a way to mix the three professions.

 

15. She's a maniac-paranoiac-neorotic girl, who keeps everything inside a box.

 

16. 42

 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Fotógrafa: Lívia Fernandes

Modelo/Edição: Monica Fadul

Produção: Mônica Fadul, Lívia Fernandes, Larissa Cogu, Priscilla Martins

 

One of my favourites at the moment - love this. Gorgeous sunny day - Bank Holiday Sunday new part of town for me.

--------------------

This image has been used on this website on the main page - londonist.com/2013/05/extra-extra-605.php

 

Also on this website - www.lightstalking.com/this-many-great-photography-links-m...

------------------------

Thanks for your Views & Fave & your comments are always welcome.

 

Please don't use this image on websites, blogs or other media without my explicit permission. © All rights reserved

 

Images can be used with permission commercially or non but must have creditation and link back to flickr. Please contact me via email or flickrmail.

 

www.flickr.com/photos/simon__syon/

Profile

Name: Mason Jerrold

Villain's name: Dunewire

Age: 27

 

Bio: Mason was born in Pennsylvania. When he was young he was often unstable, and had been a test subject since 16, taken by the will of his own parents who agreed that he was uncontrollable. However Isaiah Harrington offered to rescue him and control his situation if he would work for him, providing the resources to Mason, who hesitatingly accepted the offer. He works as a occasional bodyguard for Harrington and is the second chief of security at Harrington Powers after Isaiah had rebranded and restructured his company.

 

Powers and abilities: Mason has two powers on both arms. The blue arm allows him to generate wires, and effectively create whips and strings, allowing him to dispatch and choke enemies. The other arm allows him to control sand, manipulate sandstorms, turning into a sand giant, reassemble into sand and generate constructs etc. Carries a gun in his civilian form.

 

Weaknesses: Only able to use one arm's power and the other arm is usually weaker. Not very well in deflecting melee users, so he gets punched by stronger opponents. Sand can be overwhelmed by elemental powers and sometimes energy. Due to his unstable nature and his powers might unintentionally destroy technology, he has to be kept in check.

 

Equipment: Test suit refined by Isaiah Harrington's company. Wears a white headband.

 

Personality: Uncalm, defensive, dauntless, cynical towards enemies. Superficial, brave, willing to take risks.

SHOULD THE ELEVATOR DOORS FAIL TO OPEN

DO NOT BECOME ALARMED.

THERE IS LITTLE DANGER OF RUNNING OUT OF AIR

OR OF THIS ELEVATOR DROPPING UNCONTROLLABLY.

PLEASE USE THE BUTTON MARKED "ALARM" OR

TELEPHONE (IF FURNISHED) TO SUMMON AID.

ELEVATOR COMPANIES ARE ON CALL

24 HOURS A DAY FOR EMERGENCY SERVICE.

Leyenda de San Jorge

San Jorge que en ese momento llegó a la ciudad se encontró con la bella joven a la que le preguntó que ocurría puesto que lloraba desconsolada. La doncella le respondió a sus preguntas como pudo. San Jorge le ofreció su ayuda y su protección. En ese momento, justamente, llegó el dragón enfurecido que salía del lago donde vivía. Rápidamente St. Jorge montó sobre su caballo y sacó su espada y con mucho coraje se le enfrentó.

Legend of St. George

St George at that time came to town he met the beautiful young woman who asked that occurred since sobbed uncontrollably. The maid answered his questions as he could. St George offered his help and protection. At that moment, precisely, the enraged dragon came out of the lake where he lived. St. George quickly mounted his horse and drew his sword and courageously confronted him.

“100% tourist, 0% time space continuum integrity”

 

“After being fused with the Kanohi Olmak, Vezon went on his many (unintentional) interdimensional adventures. On these trips, he has the uncontrollable urge to hoard everything that looks remotely valuable, with all of the consequences of such actions. This is what led to him getting his hands on the story bible, which he now uses to complete his collection of non-cannon masks.”

 

This a bit of a joke build that I did based on some derailed conversations with friends. After reading the serials, I always jokingly imagined Vezon to be a Deadpool like character, a loose cannon with some comedy aspects (preferably voiced by Jack Black).

 

British Columbia is known to get scorched with wildfires every year. This year has bin no exception. 1 of our driest and hottest summers to date has bin tearing through our forests with massive nearly uncontrollable flames.

This years wildfires has also stricken dangerously close to home for me. I live 9 miles up Kootenay Lake from Nelson BC. We witnessed hurricane level thunderstorms tearing through our communities, smashing old growth trees like twigs and destroying our power lines. These wicked storms also started the 7 mile wildfires that were knockin on my back door for weeks, having a lot of us under evacuation alert.

The day this photo was taken the fires had already bin contained, but the smoke build up and smoldering earth kept our areas smoggy for weeks later.

Thanks to the hard work and dedication to our BC fire fighting teams killing the flames so we can breathe easy. Still loads of work ahead of us though, as a lot of the province is still on fire.

Tiger Tiger Fading Bright Part 6

The Hunter in the Red PVC Cap is still giving an impromptu rock and roll guitar rendition on his knee. Don't miss that.

 

the situation on the Tiger front has been grim for quite sometime. The Planet Earth is slowly relinquising its flora and fauna as humankind expands in uncontrollable numbers and fritters away Nature and its resources in a headlong dive to extinction for almost all.

 

Continuing the series

 

Tiger Tiger, Fading Bright !

The tigers in India are facing the toughest odds and are on the brink of being wiped out. There is a big industry based on tiger claws and bones etc that drives up the demand for the killing of this beautiful beast.

 

Men will buy a enlargement (is enhancement the right choice of word ?) of libido anytime anywhere but Chinese men will pay top dollars for tiger remains to increase theirs.

 

If you wonder why all the grand conservation efforts to save the tiger are failing, go no further then the politics of funding tiger conservation. It has been known for years that it is allegedly a big sham with mega bucks and mega publicity but almost nil results.

 

If you have the time it would be interesting to read some interesting thoughts and the current day reality ( The link is now dead as Aditya Singh has closed that blog, However you can see his work at

dickysingh.com/

on the tigers in an exchange between Thatzme and Aditya Singh from Rajasthan. This is not possible now... as the content has since then vanished in the great digital morass.

 

One can only hope that one sees a tiger in the wild in one's life time as the future generation may not have that privilege anytime soon. So if you are young and in India, head out and go see the elusive tiger before it is too late.

 

India has only 1150 - 1600 tigers that are available in the wild as per the Minister of Environment Jairam Ramesh.

 

Pervez 183A in one of his earlier comments on this series had mentioned >>>

 

"why don't the Chinese just try Viagra...???...it might make them dance on one leg...!!!"

Will Viagra be the Saviour of the Indian Tiger ?

 

This is an enactment of the situation at a Kerala street show during Onam in Thrippunithra near Cochin on the Atthachamayam day.

  

DSC_0843 jpeg via ACR

A Curious Vigilance p1

Grammarly another role play story idea

 

A Curious Vigilance

Part One of Two

 

A Watchman Cometh

  

“If you can’t take the heat, don’t be tickling dragons !”

 

Acte 1

 

Ginny and I had, several weeks ago, received invitations to a fellow student's upscale, formal evening wedding.

 

Since we both love to get dressed up, it was a no-brainer to accept. Even though we really weren’t players in her circle.

 

Probably just wanted the gifts. The git.

 

So I borrowed my twin brothers antique roadster, drove up the road a short way, and picked up Ginny.

 

As she walked up to the car I couldn’t help but think how we both were dressed for the kill.

 

I had on my smart purple silk dress with the long pleated slinky knee-length skirt and spaghetti straps. The dress came with a cuffed long-sleeved, waist-length, black satin jacket with rhinestone buttons.

 

I had put in a diamond pin on one side of the jacket. It was in the shape of a bursting star, giving off a pleasing shimmer.

 

My other jewels consisted of my silver v shaped necklace. The v was set with small round rhinestones with 3 kite shaped sapphires set hanging down the center of the V. I also had in the necklaces’s matching semi-long earrings. Also worn was my diamond tennis bracelet on my right wrist, while gracing my left was a wide rhinestone bracelet. One ring, diamonds surrounding a gold rose(my best ring) gracing the ring finger on my left hand, completed the look.

 

Ginny?

Well, our Ginny girl was smashing.

 

She had poured her lithe figure into the sleek satin high shoulder sleeve sheath dress she had bought to wear in a play she acted in last spring. It was midnight black with a brite lime green inner lining and tight lime green Lycra pants. The only decoration on the elegant dress was a glittery silver rhinestone Dragon, with green slanted eyes and a red fiery tongue. It was embroidered crawling up one side of the dress, grasping claws reaching around up towards her bosom.

 

“Naughty Dragon.”

 

Ginny had green mascara above her eyes, around which she drew lines of black mascara to give them a slanted look. The whole effect looked a lot like Shirley Jackson did in the Michael Caine movie Gambit. Right up to the solid gold headpiece in Gunny’s reddish hair.

 

Ginny also had in her emerald drop earrings, along with her wide emerald bracelet loosely dangling along an otherwise bare left wrist, and a fancy emerald cocktail ring flashing from the pinkie on her left hand.

 

But it was her necklace that stole the show.

 

The opulently handsome necklace was the estate auction won, long pendant that had neatly set her back a month's wages. We both had opened bids on it at the same time, with me immediately backing off so she would win it.

 

It was a very shimmery piece of jewellery, with its long rhinestone encrusted chain hanging past her breasts, ending with a dangling pendant which held a birds egg size synthetic oval-shaped emerald, surrounded by long rhinestone fringes that resembled the silver beard of the dragon on her dress.

 

It was a very striking effect, especially when it stopped swaying and hung straight down, appearing just out of reach from the grasping front rhinestone claw of the gem greedy dragon.

 

^^^^^^^^

 

The church and reception hall was only about a 60-minute drive away green m our village.

 

We arrived in the city where it was located early and stopped at a pub for a glass of wine, which we drank outside at a garden table.

 

We then left, arriving at the church with plenty of time to walk around and soak in the surroundings.

 

Acte 2

 

The wedding Proper was pretty normal, with the usual pomp, circumstance, and rigid schedule only the upper class seem to achieve with nothing atoll coming close to being original and new.

 

The reception was more of the same. Ginny, per normal, snagged more time on the dance floor than me. Though I was

by no means being ignored. The bar was free, so we made good use of that.

 

By around 7:30 we were a pair of happily well-fed, well-partied, and well-liquored-up young ladies.

 

The reception for the most part was the usual fun and the usual routine flow that goes on at such affairs.

 

There was only one incident of note, well actually I guess, two, that have a bearing on my story.

 

The first was this:

 

A young girl was wearing what must have been a previously worn, hideously yellow, satin bridesmaid gown. She also was wearing a nice set of real diamonds. Ginny was really impressed with the jewelry she was wearing. As the party went, and the more we drank, the more Ginny prattled on over different ways someone could try lifting some of those diamonds from the lady.

 

Sensing there may be trouble soon brewing, I was getting tired of holding Ginny back from her obsession, that I suggested we should be heading out.

 

Then I was asked to dance, and lost track of her. When I found her, she was chatting up the lady in yellow satin and diamonds. The lady was holding up Ginny’s shimmery pendant, and I saw that Ginny had a hand placed lightly on the lady’s wrist, next to her diamond bracelet

 

Telling myself:

“Enough of that missy!”

I went up and pried Ginny away.

 

“Don’t be tickling that Dragon, even if you were thinking of doing it as a prank.”

I scolded.

 

My twin brother is always saying “If you are not prepared to take the heat, don’t tickle a dragon!” In other words, don’t invite trouble if you are not sure you would welcome the outcome.

 

I started suggesting to her we might be heading home soon.

 

“Stop at our pub(The Poet & Peasant),” I suggested.

 

Ginny said we should do one better…

 

We could stop at the old cemetery where we liked to role-play various games of both pickpockets, and jewel thievery. Sometimes combining the two. There she could nick my jewels to her heart’s content.

 

I admitted that sounded promising.

 

Then came the second incident on the heels of her suggestion.

 

Ginny said pleasantly, if we’re not doing the pub, then we should take something to drink with us. That way we don’t need a pub.

 

Suspiciously, I asked my grinning childhood friend.

“What’s you on about? “

 

“I mean Cade, nick a bottle while I distract the bartender. He’s working over there alone for a few minutes.”

 

I sighed, but it may be fun, so game on….

 

We pulled it off. It was far easier than it should have been.

 

As Ginny flirted with the young man tending the open bar, so I kept moving till his back was to me, and I ended up sitting on the far end.

 

I took a deep breath, scurried around and grabbed a bottle from the supply bin on the floor, and walked straight out the nearest exit.

 

I circled around the building to the lot and found Ginny at the roadster waiting.

 

She had placed her black beaded purse, opened, on the bonnet of the car and was bending over to put lipstick on using the car's outside mirror.

 

“What did you snag luv?”

 

Breathless, I looked at the bottle for the first time. It was a bottle of Penderyn.

 

Slightly disappointed, I would have preferred wine over a single malt. But it would do.

 

Meanwhile, I was standing between Ginny and the roadsters’ bonnet.

 

I handed the bottle to her, and as she looked I reached out behind me and dipping my fingers into her purse pulled out her wallet.

 

Holding it behind, suppressing a desire to laugh, I circled around to the right side and got into the driver's seat.

 

Ginny put her lipstick inside her purse and snapped it close with one hand still holding the bottle. Then picking up the purse and got inside the passenger’s seat.

 

She never noticed her wallet was gone, and by then I had it inside my own purse.

 

Still totally clueless, Ginny asked as we drove away :

 

“Do you think we should include your brother in with us?”

 

I said he was practicing darts with Brian(my boyfriend) and their friend, teammate, and one of our fellow players, Derrick.

 

Ginny giggled, hoisting up the bottle.

“More for us then.”

 

Acte 3

 

We arrived at the cemetery with plenty of light left in the evening. Parking in the open lot, we made our way past the open wrought iron gates.

 

The almost 40 Hectares square-shaped cemetery is no longer in use, its main gates are permanently opened to the public, but besides us, only very few ever visit it. Judging by the dates on the gravestones, the last burial was not too long after the Victorian age officially ended. No way of truly establishing when its first burial was.

 

It lays along a lane called Abbots Chase.

 

Where a highwayman by the name of Craig Abbot used to roam several hundred years ago. It is said he is buried here in this very cemetery. Though most of the old stones are so blackened the names are not legible.

 

My dad is a direct descendant of Craig Abbot, and much to the chagrin of my mum’s Irish catholic family, my twin brother was named after him. Destiny?

 

The other end off Abbots Chase lane, west of the cemetery goes past the large old manor house some 5 kilometers away from the cemetery. The manor is now a private men’s seminary college.

 

^^^^^^^^^^^

 

We hung out at the cemetery and its interior, and surrounding woods, as kids, walking the 2 Kilometers along from the east end of the lane, where the local village was.

 

Both Ginny and I grew up in houses located on the opposite side of the village.

 

We use this private cemetery for our role-playing game adventures. We had the run of the area. Not only because of its solitude, and lack of visitors, but also because there were no roads in it. Only narrow overgrown horse-drawn cart paths. And a few cobblestone footpaths. Both of which are blocked by fallen gravestones.

 

The games have evolved. But they mostly are based on pickpocketing and other forms of thievery. Mainly related to lifting or the nicking of jewels that the one portraying the victim is wearing. We take turns being one or the other.

 

Originally there were just the 3 of us, Ginny, my twin brother, and myself. We would bring various costumes, play jewelry, and other various items. Backpacking them in from our homes.

 

We have since added four more “players” to our group, though only a few times have we all met here in force.

 

There are also times as we grew older that we have stopped to play after being somewhere dressed up. The motivation can be anything from too much to drink, or something that evening triggered the idea.

 

Like tonight, with Ginny taking a fancy to a young lady’s diamonds.

  

Acte 4

 

Ginny and I entered through the main gate and walked the 75 meters up to the marble pagoda sitting on a small hill.

 

In years long past, this pagoda would have served as the last service area for the deceased being buried here.

 

There is a set of steps leading up to the platform which is eye level. On the ground, flanking the steps are a pair of long marble benches. With old wrought iron ones scattered about surrounding the octagonal platform.

 

As per normal, no sign that anyone had been here in a while. Though we did have a bit of a jump when a fox ran out from underneath the pagoda, giving us the evil green eye before slipping off into some tall grass.

 

I had brought a blanket which we laid on the stairs. We put down our purses on one of the marble benches.

 

Sitting on the stairs, Ginny opened the bottle and took a small sip. Followed by a bigger one.

 

“Whew, that burns going down.”

She exclaimed passing it to me.

 

It smelled strong.

“Should have brought some water to cut it.”

I said taking a hit, feeling it burn warmly.

 

We each took several more sips before getting down to business.

 

I place a hand on Ginny’s arm, looking her in the eyes.

 

She starts to giggle. As do I also, both of us falling into each other’s arms, hugging as our figures are being racked by our uncontrollable laughter.

 

Meanwhile, I was busy. My hand running down her arm, I reached her her emerald bracelet and nimbly opened the clasp, easily pulling it off and cuffing it in my fist, moving that hand to her backside, using it to hold her quivering figure close.

 

Finally, we broke away, settling down. As I stroked her sleek backside with my hand, I say:

“Ok lass, are you ready to lift some of my diamonds?”

 

Taking a belt from the bottle ( it was not a sip, nor a gulp, somewhere in between)

Ginny nodded her head, earrings sparkling with intensity, like the look in her eyes just before she said:

 

“Let’s dance.”

  

Acte 5

 

I went over and pulled the cell from my purse, seeing a text from my brother asking if:

“Us girls were having fun?”

 

I sent one back:

“Smashing fun, wish you could be here, now I have to go and see a lady about doing a lift on some jewels she is wearing…”

 

That should make him stop in his tracks and ponder. I would imagine his own game now being off all of a sudden.

 

Giggling mischievously, I laid the cell in front of my purse on the marble seat, I selected “And we danced” by the Hooters.

 

Ginny was already on the platform, strutting her stuff. I went to the stairs, grabbed the bottle, took a swig, and ran up to join her.

 

She bumped into me with her hip, then went behind me, her hands running along my figure, then pulling me against her she ran her hands down along the satin sleeve of my jacket. I only felt it because I knew it was coming. After all, as her hand slipped along my wrist, she expertly whisked off my diamond bracelet.

 

I pushed her away using my hinney, then turned and began dancing close to her, wriggling up against and away from her figure. Her eyes had been opened quite wide, from the thrill of the bracelet lift, but she closed them as I rubbed my figure up along hers.

 

I had been eyeing her dazzling dripping jeweled pendant. My arms went up behind her back. Pulling down the clasp I unhooked it and reaching my hands up, pulled it away from her gown’s rhinestone dragon’s clutches

 

I had it pocketed before she reopened her eyes.

 

The music ended, and arm in arm we went back to the stairs, passing the bottle to each other.

 

We were becoming quite happily intoxicated by now, giggling at everything.

  

Acte 6

 

Ginny sets down the bottle, then stares at her bare wrist.

“I don’t suppose this bracelet fell off on its own?”

 

I chuckled, looking at where her necklace should have been dangling, picking up the bottle.

“No, it had a bit of help, I felt inside my pocket and pulled it out, replacing it as Ginny held up the bottle and asked:

 

“Another round?”

 

We both took several swigs before I decided it was time to have a bit more role play.

 

I place a hand on Ginny’s chest...

“Give me a lead luv…”

 

Ginny thinks a minute, long enough for us to take another swig each from the fast becoming 3/4 full bottle.

 

Looking me over, she tells me.

“Take a walk..”

I stand (maybe a little wobbly), and manage to do so, taking the path around the pagoda.

 

She comes up behind me, putting her hands over my eyes.

 

“Guess who Abigail?”

 

I answered...

I’m not Abigail?”

 

The voice behind me, as the hands are lifted from my eyes and reach down to my chest..”

 

“I’m so sorry, of course, your not, my bad.”

 

I turn around to face Ginny…

 

Placing a hand on my chest( lifting off my broach from the lapel of the jacket) Ginny says:

 

“I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I made a mistake like that. “

 

I feel her placing the broach in my pocket, as I say(thinking that counted as two lifts)

“That’s ok luv, we all make mistakes.’

 

Quite pleased with herself Ginny went back to the steps.

 

She thought I was following as she talked to me.

 

I did not, rather I hid in the bushes and watched her.

 

Ginny picked up the bottle and took a swig, handing it to me…

 

It was then she realized I wasn’t there.

 

“Where are you, you silly ninny?”

She called out, then began to walk back the way she had come.

 

I jump out of the bushes behind her my hand in the satin jacket's pocket( I can feel the cold necklace inside. I point my fingers In the pocket like I am ‘ packing heat’.

 

Prodding my finger in her back I say

“Stick 'em up, pretty lady!”

 

Ginny giggles,

 

“Speaking of sticks. Is that one or are you just happy to see me?

 

“Funny lady, now turn around. “

 

She did and gave a fake gasp, hand to her mouth, ring sparkly.

 

“There you go, now be a good Lass and hand over those jewels around your wrist and finger. ”

 

She lifted her wrist and undid the bracelet, then slips off her ring. As she hands them to me:

 

“My this bracelet is popular with thieves this evening.”

 

She then pulls out her gold hairpiece, shaking down her hair as I take it:

“Here thief. The thing was starting to pull on my hair and bothering me anyways.”

 

I smirk:

“Thanks, lady !”

 

We both have a laugh over this latest sequence of events, while I give her back the bracelet and ring.

 

I lead her, as her laughing satin clad figure leans into me, over to the steps.

 

But as we approach, Ginny stops and grabs my arm, her, heavily mascara’d eyes suddenly bugging out, placing a hand to her mouth, she really Gasped.

 

“Cade,Look, over by the gate!”

 

I did, feeling the hairs on my scalp rise by what I saw!

 

To be Continued…

 

To be Continued…

Baffetta ran out in the garden to play with Bimbo, the white cat , she was uncontrollable...... I had to stay around against all dangers

Involuntary and uncontrollable

 

Did you know you cannot make yourself blush? I wish I could make myself NOT blush.

 

Although I have years of public speaking and performing experience, I still find myself blushing when unexpectedly asked to speak up in a group. I only make it worse by blushing about blushing. There’s no hiding the pink on my pale skin.

 

Blazer, Caslon (thrifted). Tank, Gembera. Skirt, Topshop. Loafers, Doc Marten. Earrings and scarf, gifts. Bag, Pom Pom London.

 

We are a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for us to earn fees by linking to Amazon.com and affiliated sites. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.

 

The word "jungle" carries connotations of untamed and uncontrollable nature and isolation from civilisation, along with the emotions that evokes: threat, confusion, powerlessness, disorientation and immobilisation.

Acte 2

 

The Girls

 

The two giggling girls had just gotten in their car to head off in pursuit of more drinking fun in the city.

 

Micke looked over at her cousin settling in the leather passenger seat. Her plush black velvet dress with its rhinestone trimmings gently flickering along down her figure. The subdued sparkling of her diamond earrings and ring held a rather fetching attractiveness.

 

Micke wished she had real diamonds to wear out like that. It was one of the reasons that made her snatch up the diamond bracelet when she saw the opportunity.

 

Verity pulled a blanket from the back jump seat, then leaned back in the Leather seat closing her eyes as Micke finished settling in.

 

Verity suddenly giggled at a thought.

 

Opening her eyes she turned toward Micke, saying...

 

“You missed your calling luv...”

 

Micke laughed as she started the engine before answering ...

 

“Now just how is that, Verity ?”

 

Verity had already closed her eyes again and did not open them as she explained...

 

Raising her right wrist, the one her erstwhile diamond bracelet had earlier adorned she waved it saying sleepily.

 

“Lovely trick you pulled to steal my bracelet back there, you should consider training to becoming a thief.”

 

Micke smiled wickedly at the compliment.

 

“Find me a thief to train under, and I just may become one Verity, To steal your diamonds my pretty one...

 

Verity turned to look at her cousin, smirking, as Micke pulled into the sports car inro gear and drove out of the parking lot and onto the road.

 

They both waved to their new friend still standing on the sidewalk.

 

As they drive along the Main Street Verity teased...

 

“Maybe I would find a thief for you, if I knew how to find one.”

 

She sighed ...

 

“But probably thieves like that only really exist in the movies and on the Telly luv. Like when they steal a girl’s ring or necklace without her catching on. Doesn’t happen in real life. “

 

“Yep,” answered Micke.

 

“Or l like slipping off a pair diamond earrings by a bloke your dancing with, like that kidnapping thief did on Gilligan’s Island. Pure tosh that. “

 

Verity opened her eyes wide, then Re-enacted from that show by letting her hand dart up to sweep back her long red silky hair, fully exposing the long diamond earring she wore, while quoting from the show ...

 

“You were lovely, ...you wore your hair up, didn’t you!”

 

She let her hair down and gently tugged at her expensive earring as she continued mimicking the scene from the show...

 

“Gorgeous, just gorgeous...”

 

She looked over at the giggling Micke, smiling gleefully at her wit...

 

“Forgot about that one...”

 

Your very right Micke, Thieves that slick simply does not exist or are caught readily enough if they try something that foolish.”

 

“The ones you need to worry about Micke are the professional jewel thieves. And no worries, there are none around here. “

 

Micke nodded her head in a happily secure manner, her earrings dimly glittering reddish and gold fire.

 

They then drove off thoughtfully as they headed towards their next destination.

 

Suddenly Micke was taken from her deep mulling as she felt Verity’s fingers tickling upon her sleeve.

 

“Wotcher up to now Verity?

 

“Just trying to steal my bracelet back.”

She said innocently

 

“Your right. Bloody awful thieves we would be. And Verity, I'm wearing your bracelet on my other wrist. “

 

She wriggled that wrist as both girls began giggling uncontrollably as they drove off into the night.

  

£££££££££

  

The Stranger

 

As the last auto disappeared around the curve leaving the village, I turned and walked across the quiet street to my own Italian-made sports car, where it now sat alone on the now deserted block next to the empty church lot.

 

With the powerful car engine purring, matching my anticipated mood, I headed the car back out into the road leading from town.

 

Taking an unhurried pace, I backtracked a bit till I reached a different turn just before the highway to the city, and went down a new road that soon followed the river.

 

About 30 minutes traveling down this road I spotted a turnaround and pulled off.

 

Pulling out my gold case I selected a long cigarette, clicked the case thoughtfully closed, tapping the cigarette on the lid as I walked over to the river bank.

 

I gave out a small, deliciously relieved sigh as I lit the cigarette with my gold lighter and drew in the smoke looking up at the full moon.

 

I let it out in a long long pleasing puff and watched with yet another relieved sigh as the wisp of smoke moves over the gently flowing currents of the river.

 

Comfortable now that I was safely alone and unobserved, I reached into a hidden pocket and wrapped my fingers around the hard sharp object that lay inside.

 

I then pulled out the long shimmery diamond bracelet that Micke had been proudly, if not recklessly, wearing after snatching the jewelry from unwary Verity, whilst both had been in the loo.

 

I held it up dangling in front of my eyes, losing myself within its richly expensive fiery sparkles as it was caught in the full moon's rays.

 

I chuckled openly over my lucky cleverness at acquiring the girl’s diamond bracelet.

 

€€€€€

 

It had turned out to be a piece of cake, caressing the piece of expensive jewelry of the wriggling drunk Micke’s wrist without notice!

 

To be honest, I had actually been Just past drooling over the alluring, but apparently unobtainable, diamonds Verity was sporting.

 

I had placed them out of my mind as I considered leaving the party and heading back on the road.

 

Then Micke had plopped down next to me and incredibly had flashed the sparkling beauty up under my nose as it slid down her underneath the satin blouse’s cuff.

 

My mouth began again to water over diamonds.

 

It had also allowed me a good opportunity to closely look it over. And what I saw (the twit had left the bloody safety clasp undone) whetted my appetite and I began to light-heartedly scheme in my mind over the delight it would be to acquire it.

 

But time was running out, the pub would be soon be closing. So my thoughts were a mere bit of whimsy, or so I imagined...

 

Then, seeing as the giddy pair were so freely giving hugs to those buying them shots, I saw a spur of the moment opportunity came a knocking as Verity left Micke’s side to give a hug to an admirer who had bought her a shot.

 

I quickly went and added 2 shots onto my tab as I paid it in full.

 

Taking one, I winked mischievously to the bar mistress to tell Micke the other was from one of the dart throwers, a laddie name Merrick...

 

I walked over to Micke as the shot and message were delivered.

 

She had happily downed the shot as I did my own with her, clinking our empty glasses and setting them upside down on the bar. Then she a bit unsteadily rose. I helped her up and she fell against me, laughing.

 

I joined her in laughing, but I saw my chance as the bracelet was exposed and I automatically began to reach down for it.

 

But out of the corner of my eye, I saw the bar mistress directly behind us, collecting the empty shot glasses, and decided the risk was too great.

 

So I let my silken-covered prey(and the diamonds) slip loose from my grasp.

 

Micke began to scurry, almost tripping over the hem of her skirt, over to Merrick, with me in close tow.

 

Reaching the surprised lad she grabbed and enveloped him in a tight warm hug, leaning heavily against him.

 

Seeing no one watching us this time, I came in from around behind and pressed up playfully against them, with Micke’s hands at my stomach. I could feel her fancy rings digging splendidly into my skin, through the thin white silk turtleneck I was wearing, as I grasped her arms just above the elbows and pressed into her.

 

It took only seconds but seemed to me far longer.

 

I slipped my fingers ever so nimbly down to the sleeve of her blouse, and pulling the cuff of her blouse up with my right hand, exposed the shimmering bracelet.

 

I as I held the blouse’s cuff up with two fingers of my right hand, I pressed my thump up into her arm to divert any focus of unusual feelings she may experience there.

 

With the diamond bracelet now exposed, it was a simple matter of locating the clasp, with my left hand, wedging my index finger in between Micke’s wrist and the bracelet.

 

Almost at the same time, I managed to quickly press my left thumb up against the hinge to release the clip and grasp a loose end as it separated ( thanking in my mind pretty Micke for not setting the safety chain).

 

And “Bobs your Uncle”, I had the fancy diamond-encrusted bracelet she was wearing slipped off from around her wrist and secreted in my hidden pocket, easy peasy as you please. And thank you, Micke.

 

As I let go of her arm with my right hand, the white satin blouse’s long cuff slipped back down covering up the evidence of my dirty deed.

 

I was humming a happy tune(Gregg Altman’s ’m no angel) to myself as Micke finished her hugging of the bewildered Merrick.

 

Then, with her leaning tiredly against my shoulder, we went over to her cousin Verity and her boisterous crew.

 

The keep just then hollered over the commotion “Closing”, and we all turned to leave as a group.

 

Neither of the sozzled girls became the wiser over the bracelet being nicked again, this time for real, as we all then parted for the evening….

 

But even if they had. I harbored no doubts they would assume it had fallen off.

 

Verity and Micke were that innocent to the wicked ways of this world.

 

“An innocent abroad.., “ to quote Twain.

 

I suppose everyone has heard the phrase looking like a million. Well, young Verity had been wearing very close to that in diamonds in my estimate, as she had entered the pub this evening.

 

And even after being relieved(twice)of her flashy bracelet, sweet Verity still was wearing well up in six figures of remaining diamonds...

 

My mind came back to the present as I continued to hold the bracelet up catching the rays of the moon, but my eyes no longer were able to focus on it.

 

Out loud I said...

 

“Pity it was, to let her go on wearing those lovely earrings and ring.”

 

Having admitted that to myself, I suddenly felt an odd inkling at the back of my head that I may have just let a golden million £ opportunity drive right by me tonight.

 

I shook my head to clear those annoying thoughts, running my free hand through my hair as I felt an urge to get back on the road.

 

“time was now a wasting ...”

 

So, once again humming my happy tune, I placed the bracelet carefully back inside my pocket.

 

I then threw the cigarette spiraling into the river before, with happy satisfaction, I headed back to my sports car.

 

I started the engine pulled out back on the main road.

 

Not a meter down the road I see headlights suddenly looming up behind me. I watch with some interest, some trepidation.

 

But then it turned down into the very parking area I had just left.

 

My luck was holding I told myself, letting out some breath. Happily, I headed off to the adventures my next stop promised to offer.

 

Embolden by the success of my last.

   

be unruly even if under good emperors

 

music:

youtu.be/TmDkzVvherk?si=eC1eY3LbPaqYqHOZ

Portishead - Only You

 

youtu.be/wyUSfuL9dxY?si=CxSvJx7W6LzY1Z4r

Forest Swords - Panic (Official Video)

 

.

 

youtu.be/YD-yg0bpF7A?si=YQOlgrzeDuKMeN4F

Twilight of American Democracy: Mapping A Democratic Breakdown in the USA, with Bernard E. Harcourt

 

youtu.be/i6TaQD_4pfY?si=rmjTgFU7NoTOlbzA

Hegel and the Heritage Foundation: Family Resemblance and New Beginnings [Full Intro to Hegel 13/13]

  

Hegelian self-consciousness through the master-slave dialectic

 

Hegelian self-consciousness is the state where a being recognizes itself as a distinct, independent entity through its interaction with and acknowledgment by another self-conscious being. It is a dynamic process of self-reflection mediated by the "other" (another person or an object). For Hegel, a purely isolated consciousness cannot achieve true self-consciousness; recognition from another is necessary for one's existence to be affirmed, leading to the development of a unified, self-aware self.

 

Hegel's Master-Slave dialectic describes how self-consciousness develops through a life-or-death struggle for recognition between two individuals, leading to a reversal where the slave, through labor and engagement with the world, achieves a more profound and independent sense of self than the master, who remains dependent and dependent on the servant for sustenance and affirmation.

  

youtu.be/Da6cbuAfnbA?si=cDtz3SFrBZri_s4f

I, CLAUDIUS - 'Lost your stutter, too, I see' ( + ̂ )

 

youtu.be/bKz-HtOPvjE?si=3RoK3jCCflelHB_r

Hegel: the master-servant dialectic

 

youtu.be/9Dqyq-UjoVA?si=shtyiOKOfR3gCcxr

Hegel: Philosophy of world history and spirit

How do freedom, reason, passion, the state, and ethical life fit into the world-historical process?

 

youtu.be/EpFFyQ7rv8Q?si=VjFoh2I-oq5HQgmr

Mary Beard and Why America Isn’t Rome (And Why That Matters) | The David Frum Show

  

youtu.be/5i5mDO6ai_c?si=9He2nMD7lhDsyP_f

Rulers and Power | Mary Beard and David Mitchell

 

self-consciousness

unruly

I hope Americans never get to have a good emperor

forsan et haec olim meminisse iuvabit

perhaps even these things will be good to remember one day

Vincit qui se vincit

Felicior Augusto, melior Traiano

what have the romans ever done for us?

they believed in the republic... that's why they were killed

 

youtu.be/FeCTilEwRmY?si=oAHndul3fLoE3P-8

Claudius gets some valuable advice.

  

.

 

.

 

photo:

Portrait of Trajan

Venice, National Archaeological Museum

Inv. N. 5

Marble, 57 cm

Roman Imperial period

legate of Domenico Grimani, 1523

www.meravigliedivenezia.it/en/virtual-objects/MAN_128.html

National Archaeological Museum of Venice

 

Ritratto di Traiano

Venezia, Museo Archeologico Nazionale

Inv. N. 5

Marmo, h cm 57

Epoca romana imperiale

Legato di Domenico Grimani, 1523

www.meravigliedivenezia.it/it/oggetti-virtuali/MAN_128.html

Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Venezia

  

Do we need a master to self-actualize?

 

No, you do not need a "master" to self-actualize; it is an individual journey to realize one's full potential, and a master can be an unnecessary intermediary. Maslow's theory views self-actualization as an innate desire to become the best version of oneself, a process achievable by anyone through personal growth, self-acceptance, and engaging in fulfilling work that aligns with their aptitudes.

Understanding Self-Actualization

An inherent need: Self-actualization is a fundamental drive to fulfill one's potential.

An individual journey: The path to self-actualization is unique for each person and is not defined by external success, fame, or status.

A process, not an endpoint: It's a continuous journey of personal growth, not a final state of perfection.

What is Required for Self-Actualization?

Instead of a master, the focus should be on personal development:

Self-awareness and acceptance: Understanding and accepting yourself is a crucial first step.

Personal growth: This involves continuous learning, developing skills, and working on relationships.

Fulfillment: Engaging in activities that align with your intrinsic values and aptitudes brings a sense of fulfillment.

Mindfulness and presence: Living in the moment and letting go of self-doubt can foster progress.

Purpose and authenticity: Living a life aligned with your inner truth and purpose is key to self-actualization.

Girl please me

Be my soul bride

Every women

Has a piece of aphrodite

Copulate to create

A state of sexual light

Kissing her virginity

My affinity

Glorious euphoria

Is my must

Erotic shock

Is a function of lust

Temporarily blind

Dimensions to discover

In time

Each into the other

Uncontrollable notes

From her snowwhite throat

Fill a space

In which two bodies float

Operatic by voice

A fanatic by choice

Aromatic is the flower

Nuclear energy remains uncontrollable and a deadly danger

 

Graffito eines guten Freundes

 

Graffito of a good friend of mine.

 

Voerde-Spellen 1988

Mixed Media oilgraph with acrylic, graphite and gunpowder on wooden panel // 12x16

 

Base image photographed with a Mamiya 645 on Tri-x and processed in Agfa Rodinal

 

From the new series ‘The Spirit of Ukraine’ Being over half Ukrainian and Russian I take the war in Ukraine personally. In this continuing series I hope to capture the both the strength and vulnerability of the Ukrainian people.

 

The textures were created by igniting gunpowder on the surface of the panel and burning into the print itself. It’s an uncontrollable process and the explosion chooses its own direction. Just like war itself.

 

Purchase options here:

www.kevissimo.com/so-warcry/kherson

Adoor in Kerala holds its famous Bull Races every year around the time of Onam. It is a celebration of agrarian existence and is carried on without any grants or aid from the Government. This is a spectacular fiesta of rural Kerala. There are 2-3 other such events that are held in Kerala.

 

Two racing bulls are hitched together and three men come into action. Two racers with lead ropes on either side of the bulls who try to control the direction and speed if possible and one often obscured by sprays of mud and water, a jockey who rides on a small flat strip of wood.

 

The bulls race ahead with the men keeping desperately abreast of the thundering hooves. At the end of the racing track there is a 4-6 feet embankment of earth which acts as a protection and a marker for the bulls. The embankment gets totally crowded with onlookers. The bull racers need to turn the bull around and do a 360 degree here but most times that effort fails as the bulls in their racing frenzy would be uncontrollable.

 

I have no idea on the current status of the bull races. There are enough organisations howling to stop such races but the Supreme Court of India in a judgement a few months ago allowed bull/bullock cart races to go on in Punjab. So chances are that the tradition may still live on.

 

Dates

Taken on August 15, 2007 at 1.16pm IST (edit)

Posted to Flickr September 15, 2012 at 4.50PM IST (edit)

Exif data

Camera Nikon D70

Exposure 0.001 sec (1/1000)

Aperture f/4.0

Focal Length 70 mm

ISO Speed 200

Exposure Bias 0 EV

Flash Off, Did not fire

DSC_0375 nef

    

Athens Hellinikon 1982-04-11

 

727-2L5 c/n 21050

 

Note: This aircraft was written off on December 22, 1992

 

159 killed, RIP

 

"Libyan Arab Airlines flight 1103, a Boeing 727, was destroyed when it crashed while on approach to Tripoli International Airport, Libya. All 159 persons on board were killed.

 

The aircraft operated a domestic flight from Benghazi to Tripoli, Libya. As the flight approached Tripoli Airport, it was instructed to hold at the Papa Echo beacon at 3000 feet, 4.1DME from runway 27. At 08:05 the flight was told they would need to hold for another three minutes due to military traffic.

This military traffic was a MiG-23UB that had just taken off. The aircraft climbed in a left hand turn and headed towards Papa Echo. Reaching 3000 feet, the aircraft hit the tail fin of flight 1103. The tail separated and the Boeing 727 entered an uncontrollable descent and impacted the ground. Both crew members of the MiG-23 reportedly ejected safely."

 

asn.flightsafety.org/wikibase/325364

The Society was never officially present on Ra’un. Forces were dispatched from sympathetic imperial remnants, or as ex-imperial mercenaries. Society leaders saw this campaign as an opportunity to get rid of uncontrollable experimental forces.

 

Unofficially however, the Society had sent a handful of elite agents. Rumors of a several force sensitive children in the local population, warranted sending in agents to secure and “evacuate” these individuals. The participation in the battle, and the heaps of expendable forces, was just a cover for the real operation. Operation Harvester.

David M. Densford, Chinook pilot with 4,000 flight hours and 24 years in the CH-47 models A thru F, has compiled the following 14 amazing facts on this legendary helicopter based on his experiences (found on theaviationgeekclub.com/did-you-know-that-ch-47-crew-can-... ):

 

1. Originally the A-model fuel system consisted of 550 gallons of Jet A split between 2 main tanks bolted to the side without a self-sealing internal rubber bladder. When we dropped the tanks for airframe inspections we had to put a LOT of goop around the edges when we reinstalled them and then pressure test them for leaks. As a result, they made a huge mess if any of the mount bolts failed during the pressure test.

2. The A-models also started life with L-7 turbines that only put out 1,300 shp each.

3. Max gross weight was 33,000 lbs

4. It originally had a single center hook and could lift a whopping 10,000 lbs. When conditions were right and we got the load off the ground the airframe shook uncontrollably.

5. With the L7 and later L11 engines and improved self-sealing fuel tanks we had a flight time of about 1.5 hours before needing to look for a landing spot.

6. The old rotor system (including the swashplate) was filled with mil-l-7808 light oil which needed constant servicing. Centrifugal force would sling oil everywhere, which is why old CH-47's look so stained in old photographs.

7. The old asymmetric metal rotor blades were prone to failure and would shake the dental work out of your mouth before you could get on the ground.

8. And we were fast! Take the old girl up, point her nose down, pull back on the RRPM and she could do 190 knots!

9. Engine failures were not to be feared since at 5,000 ft we could glide for 5 miles looking for suitable landing area.

10. The tandem rotors are synchronized by a long aluminum 7-section drive shaft running along the top. The airframe was designed to flex so the shafting had to flex as well. Each section was held in place in brackets and supported by aluminum vibration absorbing “Lord” mounts. We had to go up top and inspect those metal springs after every flight because the metal would fatigue fail which could leave pieces up there that might cut the shaft. Then the forward and aft blades would collide, pretty much ripping one or both pylons off the airframe.

11. We could land on water, shut down, climb up on top for a photo, then get back in, start up and take off.

12. On a B-model we even landed in the Panama Canal and used the hydraulic wheel steering control like a rudder for turning.

13. Rumor is that during the evacuation at the end of Vietnam, one CH-47 took off with 100 souls on board but landed with 101 as a lady gave birth during flight. During the Desert Storm cleanup, I was able to pack 65 standing room only Iraqi POWs in my cabin. Thank God they were docile as we were only issued a .38 and one Barney Fife bullet.

14. The old floors were held down with hundreds of stupid #2 Philip’s head screws. We had to pull the floors every 30 days to inspect “the bilge” for cracks and mildew. This was in the days before cordless drills and many of those stupid shallow headed screws stripped out. In the early 80s, I took it upon myself to switch the screws to bolts and used a socket. Then I went to Sears and bought myself one of those new 6-volt battery powered screwdrivers and a socket adapter. Afterward, the Quality Control department went off on me for making an unauthorized modification to the airframe and using an unauthorized tool to do it. They made me take every bolt out and put the screws back in. A month later, the Army authorized the modifications and I ordered enough bolts for our whole fleet in Panama.

 

This photo was taken in 2013 during my previous Project 365…please visit my album for this “REMASTERED” Project 365 as I revisit each day of 2013 for additional photos to share!!

 

Technical Information (or Nerdy Stuff):

Camera - Nikon D5200 (handheld)

Lens – Nikkor 18-300mm Zoom

ISO – 250

Aperture – f/5.6

Exposure – 1/1000 second

Focal Length – 250mm

 

The original RAW file was processed with Adobe Camera Raw and final adjustments were made with Photoshop CS6.

 

"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." ~Jeremiah 29:11

 

The best way to view my photostream is through Flickriver with the link below: www.flickriver.com/photos/photojourney57/

May 2019

“100% tourist, 0% time space continuum integrity”

 

“After being fused with the Kanohi Olmak, Vezon went on his many (unintentional) interdimensional adventures. On these trips, he has the uncontrollable urge to hoard everything that looks remotely valuable, with all of the consequences of such actions. This is what led to him getting his hands on the story bible, which he now uses to complete his collection of non-cannon masks.”

 

This a bit of a joke build that I did based on some derailed conversations with friends. After reading the serials, I always jokingly imagined Vezon to be a Deadpool like character, a loose cannon with some comedy aspects (preferably voiced by Jack Black).

 

Self-portrait January 2025 ⭐️ This self-portrait was created with a disco ball, illuminated with a spotlight flashlight. A smoke machine was also used. The light spectacle was unbelievable 😊

 

This one was a really tricky self-portrait, because I photographed myself from a slightly lower perspective than I would normally do. And the light that fell on the disco ball was almost uncontrollable (angle the light which falls on the glass plates, etc.). Maybe this is an absolute lucky snapshot 😊

 

When she opens her eyes, there is nothing but darkness, a weightless sensation, as if she were caught somewhere between waking and dreaming. Then — a beam of light. A thin, pale shimmer descending from above, touching her face. With the light comes a whisper. And an echo.

 

The light expands. It fractures, as if something had been trapped within it. New rays burst forth in every direction, like cracks in a mirror as it shatters. With each new glimmer, a voice follows. Fragments of her past, scattered in the darkness—now gathered in the light.

Echoes.

 

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© 2025 Sabine Fischer

find me elsewhere:

instagram: sabinefey

portfolio: www.phoenixstudios.de

Hello again all. This year, aside from a daily photo, I'm going to be working through a Stoicism book in the hope of ingesting some much needed wisdom. It conveniently has 366 meditations, ideal for a leap year such as this. Today's lesson is from Epictetus

 

"The chief task in life is simply this: to identify and separate matters so that I can say clearly to myself which are externals not under my control, and which have to do with the choices I actually control. Where then do I look for good and evil? Not to uncontrollable externals, but within myself to the choices that are my own..."

 

Makes sense...I think it basically means not worrying about things I can't control. Slightly easier said than done. 😂

“I used to believe, although I don't now, that growing and growing up are analogous, that both are inevitable and uncontrollable processes. Now it seems to me that growing up is governed by the will, that one can choose to become an adult, but only at given moments...”

― Nick Hornby, Fever Pitch

Esta es la primera de una serie de fotos tomadas desde el Coffee Costa, en New Oxford St., Londres. Había varias limitaciones que fueron un aliciente. Utilicé el agujero del respaldo de una de las sillas como marco, en el cristal había una estrella navideña, y un cartón entraba y salía de campo movido por el viento. El azar, ese elemento incontrolable y mágico, puso el resto. Tomé 253 imágenes entre sorbo y sorbo de un buen café. A Miriam, gracias por su amor y paciencia.

En esta colección de Los pasos perdidos iré mostrando algunas de esas imágenes.

 

This is the first of a photos serial taken from the Coffee Costa in New Oxford St., London. There were several limitations which became an incentive. I used the hole in of one of the chairs as a framework, the glass had a Christmas star sticked on it, and a cardboard entered and left the frame moved by the wind. Fate, uncontrollable and magical element, put the rest.

I took 253 pictures from sip to sip of coffee.

In this collection called "The lost steps" ("Los pasos perdidos"), I'll be showing some of those images.

To Miriam, thank you for your love and patience.

 

500px / Twitter

Yes, I'm afraid it's another Flight shot...!!!

 

As you know, Pied Stilts are not big birds, and nor is their wing span especially large. So how did this bird manage to remain in the air with its wings in this configuration???

 

And how, seconds after this shot was taken, did she or he manage to land without cartwheeling uncontrollably into the tidal pond it was aiming for???

 

All too often, we tend to look at the birds and creatures around us, and think that we're the smarter ones... But are we???

  

Thanks for visiting Folks, and thanks for taking the time and trouble to leave a Comment. It's always nice to hear from you...!

  

Something green today?

 

During the experimental detonation of a gamma bomb, scientist Robert Bruce Banner saves teenager Rick Jones who has driven onto the testing field; Banner pushes Jones into a trench to save him, but is hit with the blast, absorbing massive amounts of gamma radiation.

 

He awakens later seemingly unscathed, but that night transforms into a lumbering grey form. A pursuing soldier dubs the creature a "hulk". Originally, it was believed that Banner's transformations into the Hulk were caused by sunset and undone at sunrise, but later, after Rick witnessed Banner turn into Hulk at daytime following a failed attempt by Ross' men to shoot the Hulk into space, it was discovered to be caused by anger. Banner was cured, but chose to restore Hulk's powers with Banner's intelligence.

 

The gamma-ray machine needed to affect the transformation-induced side effects that made Banner temporarily sick and weak when returned to his normal state.

 

In September 1963, the Hulk became a founding member of the the Avengers, who would go on to become the premiere superhero team in the Marvel universe.

 

Soon, however, overuse of the gamma-ray machine rendered the Hulk as an uncontrollable, rampaging monster, subject to spontaneous changing.

 

In September 1964 the Hulk appeared as an antagonist for Giant-Man. It was established that stress was the trigger for Banner turning into the Hulk and vice versa.

 

It was during this time that the Hulk developed a more savage and childlike identity, shifting away from his original portrayal as a brutish but not entirely unintelligent figure.

 

Also, his memory, both long-term and short-term, would now become markedly impaired in his Hulk state. Tales to Astonish #64 (February 1965) was the last Hulk story to feature him speaking in complete sentences. In Tales to Astonish #77 (March 1966), Banner's and the Hulk's dual identity became publicly known when Rick Jones, mistakenly convinced that Banner was dead (when he actually had been catapulted into the future), told Major Glenn Talbot, a rival to Banner for the affections of Betsy Ross, the truth.

 

Consequently, Glenn informed his superiors and that turned Banner into a wanted fugitive upon returning to the present.

 

The 1970s saw Banner and Betty nearly marry in The Incredible Hulk #124 (February 1970). Betty ultimately married Talbot in issue #158 (Dec. 1972). The Hulk also traveled to other dimensions, one of which had him meet empress Jarella, who used magic to bring Banner's intelligence to the Hulk, and came to love him. The Hulk helped to form the Defenders.

 

In the 1980s, Banner once again gained control over the Hulk, and gained amnesty for his past rampages; however, due to the manipulations of supernatural character Nightmare, Banner eventually lost control over the Hulk.

 

It was also established that Banner had serious mental problems even before he became the Hulk, having suffered childhood traumas that engendered Bruce's repressed rage.

 

Banner comes to terms with his issues for a time, and the Hulk and Banner were physically separated by Doc Samson.

 

Banner is recruited by the U.S. government to create the Hulkbusters, a government team dedicated to catching the Hulk. Banner finally married Betty in The Incredible Hulk #319 (May 1986) following Talbot's death in 1981.

 

Banner and the Hulk were reunited in The Incredible Hulk #323 (Sep. 1986) and with issue #324, returned the Hulk to his grey coloration, with his transformations once again occurring at night, regardless of Banner's emotional state.

 

In issue #347 the grey Hulk persona "Joe Fixit" was introduced, a morally ambiguous Las Vegas enforcer and tough guy. Banner remained repressed in the Hulk's mind for months, but slowly began to reappear.

 

The 1990s saw the Green Hulk return. In issue #377 (Jan. 1991), the Hulk was revamped in a storyline that saw the various dissociative identities of Banner, Fixit, and Savage confront Banner's past abuse at the hands of his father Brian and a new "Guilt" identity.

 

Overcoming the trauma, the intelligent Banner, cunning Fixit, and powerful Savage identities merge into a new single entity possessing the traits of all three.

 

The Hulk also joined the Pantheon, a secretive organization of superpowered individuals. His tenure with the organization brought the Hulk into conflict with a tyrannical alternate future version of himself called the Maestro in the 1993 Future Imperfect miniseries, who rules over a world where many heroes are dead.

 

In 2000, Banner and the three Hulks (Savage, Fixit, and the "Merged Hulk", now considered a separate identity and referred to as the Professor) become able to mentally interact with one another, each identity taking over the shared body as Banner began to weaken due to his suffering from Lou Gehrig's disease.

 

During this, the four identities (including Banner) confronted yet another submerged identity, a sadistic "Devil" intent on attacking the world and attempting to break out of Banner's fracturing psyche, but the Devil was eventually locked away again when the Leader was able to devise a cure for the disease using genes taken from the corpse of Brian Banner.

 

In 2005, it is revealed that the Nightmare has manipulated the Hulk for years, and it is implied that some or all of the Hulk's adventures written by Bruce Jones may have been just an illusion.

 

In 2006, the Illuminati decide the Hulk is too dangerous to remain on Earth and send him away by rocket ship which crashes on Planet Sakaar ushering in the "Planet Hulk" storyline that saw the Hulk find allies in the Warbound, and marry alien queen Caiera, a relationship that was later revealed to have born him two sons: Skaar and Hiro-Kala.

 

After the Illuminati's ship explodes and kills Caiera, the Hulk returns to Earth with his superhero group Warbound and declares war on the planet in World War Hulk (2007).

 

However, after learning that Miek, one of the Warbound, had actually been responsible for the destruction, the Hulk allows himself to be defeated, with Banner subsequently redeeming himself as a hero as he works with and against the new Red Hulk to defeat the new supervillain team the Intelligencia.

 

In the 2010s, Hiro-Kala traveled to Earth to destroy the OldStrong Power wielded by Skaar, forcing Skaar and the Hulk to defeat and imprison him within his home planet.

 

During the 2011 Fear Itself storyline, the Hulk finds one of the Serpent's magical hammers associated with the Worthy and becomes Nul: Breaker of Worlds. As he starts to transform, the Hulk tells the Red She-Hulk to run far away from him.

 

Rampaging through South and Central America, Nul was eventually transported to New York City where he began battling Thor, with aid of the Thing, who was transformed into Angrir: Breaker of Souls.

 

After defeating the Thing, Thor stated that he never could beat the Hulk, and instead removed him from the battle by launching him into Earth orbit, after which Thor collapsed from exhaustion.

 

Landing in Romania, Nul immediately began heading for the base of the vampire-king Dracula. Opposed by Dracula's forces, including a legion of monsters, Nul was seemingly unstoppable.

 

Only after the intervention of Raizo Kodo's Forgiven was Nul briefly slowed. Ultimately, Nul makes his way to Dracula's castle where the timely arrival of Kodo and Forgiven member Inka, disguised as Betty Ross, is able to throw off the effects of the Nul possession. Throwing aside the hammer, the Hulk regains control, and promptly leaves upon realizing "Betty's" true nature.

 

With the crisis concluded, the Hulk contacted Doctor Doom for help separating him and Banner for good in return for an unspecified favor. Doom proceeded to perform brain surgery on the Hulk, extracting the uniquely Banner elements from the Hulk's brain and cloning a new body for Banner.

 

When Doctor Doom demands to keep Banner for his own purposes, the Hulk reneges on the deal and flees with Banner's body, leaving his alter ego in the desert where he was created to ensure that Doctor Doom cannot use Banner's intellect.

 

When Banner goes insane due to his separation from the Hulk, irradiating an entire tropical island trying to recreate his transformation- something he cannot do as the cloned body lacks the genetic elements of Banner that allowed him to process the gamma radiation- the Hulk is forced to destroy his other side by letting him be disintegrated by a gamma bomb, prompting the Hulk to accuse Doom of tampering with Banner's mind, only for Doom to observe that what was witnessed was simply Banner without the Hulk to use as a scapegoat for his problems.

 

Initially assuming that Banner is dead, the Hulk soon realizes that Banner was somehow "re-combined" with him when the gamma bomb disintegrated Banner's body, resulting in the Hulk finding himself waking up in various strange locations, including helping the Punisher confront a drug cartel run by a mutated dog, hunting sasquatches with Kraven the Hunter, and being forced to face Wolverine and the Thing in an old SHIELD base.

 

Banner eventually leaves a video message for the Hulk in which he apologizes for his actions while they were separate, having come to recognize that he is a better person with the Hulk than without, the two joining forces to thwart the Doombots' attempt to use the animals on Banner's irradiated island as the basis for a new gamma army using a one-of-a-kind gamma cure Banner had created to turn all the animals back to normal.

 

Following this, Bruce willingly joined the spy organization S.H.I.E.L.D., allowing them to use the Hulk as a weapon in exchange for providing him with the means and funding to create a lasting legacy for himself.

 

After the Hulk had suffered brain damage upon being shot in the head by the Order of the Shield- the assassin having been carefully trained to target Bruce at just the right part of the brain to incapacitate him without triggering a transformation- Iron Man used the Extremis to cure the Hulk.

 

This procedure also increased Banner's mental capacity, which gave him the intelligence to tweak the Extremis virus within him and unleash a new persona for the Hulk: the super-intelligent Doc Green.

 

During the 2014 "Original Sin" storyline, Bruce Banner confronted by the eye of the murdered Uatu the Watcher. Bruce temporarily experienced some of Tony Stark's memories of their first meeting before either of them became the Hulk or Iron Man. During this vision, Bruce witnessed Tony modifying the gamma bomb to be more effective prompting Bruce to realize that Tony was essentially responsible for him becoming the Hulk in the first place.

 

Subsequent research reveals that Tony's tampering had actually refined the bomb's explosive potential so that it would not disintegrate everyone within the blast radius, with the result that Tony's actions had actually saved Bruce's life.

 

In the 2014 "AXIS" storyline, when a mistake made by the Scarlet Witch causes various heroes and villains to experience a moral inversion, Bruce Banner attended a meeting between Nick Fury Jr. and Maria Hill of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers who refused to turn over Red Skull.

 

Later when he sided with Edwin Jarvis and tried to prevent his teammates from executing the Red Skull, the Hulk was thrown aside by Luke Cage.

 

The Hulk's sorrow at his friends' betrayal awakened a new persona known as the bloodthirsty Kluh (described as the Hulk's Hulk, being the ruthless part of himself that even the Hulk repressed) with this new version easily defeating the Avengers, sneering that the Hulk they knew was nothing more than a "sad piece of 'Doc Green's' ID." Kluh then leaves to wreak havoc, with Nova attempting to stop him after witnessing his rampage with the remaining good heroes.

 

As with the other inverted Avengers and X-Men, Kluh was restored to Hulk when Brother Voodoo was summoned back to life by Doctor Doom so that Daniel Drumm's ghost can possess the Scarlet Witch and undo the inversion.

 

With his newfound intellect, Doc Green came to the conclusion that the world was in danger by Gamma Mutates and thus needed to be depowered. He developed a serum made from Adamantium nanobites that absorbed gamma energy.

 

He used these to depower Red Leader, Red She-Hulk, Red Hulk, Skaar, Gamma Corps, and A-Bomb, but decided to 'spare' She-Hulk as he concluded that she was the one gamma mutation whose life had been legitimately improved by her mutation. At the close of the storyline, Doc Green discovered that he was beginning to disappear as the result of the Extremis serum wearing off. He ultimately allowed himself to fade away, returning to his normal Hulk form, as he feared that remaining at his current intellectual level would lead to him becoming the Maestro.

 

During the 2015 "Secret Wars" storyline, the Hulk took part in the incursion between Earth-616 and Earth-1610. The Hulk used the "Fastball Special" with Colossus to destroy the Triskelion.

 

As part of the 2015–2018 All-New, All-Different Marvel branding, Amadeus Cho becomes the new Hulk. Flashbacks reveal that the Hulk had absorbed a dangerous new type of radiation while helping Iron Man and the Black Panther deal with a massive accident on Kiber Island. Fearing the Hulk's meltdown would kill countless innocents, Cho was able to use special nanites to absorb the Hulk from Banner and take it into himself to become his own version of the Hulk, leaving Banner normal and free from the Hulk.

 

He is then rescued from a bar fight by Amadeus, who tells him that he is cured. Having confirmed that he can no longer transform or sense the Hulk, Bruce spends some time traveling across America taking various risks such as driving at high speeds, running away from a bear, or gambling in Las Vegas, until he is confronted by Tony Stark out of concern that Bruce has a death wish. Bruce instead acknowledges that he still harbors guilt and rage over how so many of the Hulk's rampages were provoked by various agencies refusing to leave him alone.

 

During the 2016 "Civil War II" storyline, the vision of the Inhuman Ulysses shows a rampaging Hulk standing over the corpses of the superheroes. Meanwhile, Bruce Banner is shown to have set up a laboratory in Alpine, Utah, where he is approached by Captain Marvel, followed by Tony Stark, the rest of the Avengers, the X-Men, and the Inhumans.

 

The confrontation leads to the Beast hacking into Banner's work servers and the revelation that he had been injecting himself with dead gamma-irradiated cells. S.H.I.E.L.D. Director Maria Hill places him under arrest. Banner gets infuriated at all these events, when suddenly, Hawkeye shoots Banner with an arrow to the head and then to the heart, apparently killing him, much to the dismay and horror of the superheroes, especially Tony Stark.

 

At an Avengers-presided tribunal, Hawkeye states that Bruce Banner had approached him and ordered him to kill him if he ever showed signs of turning into the Hulk again. At the funeral, Korg of the Warbound stated how Hulk wanted to be left alone and how his allies that he made along the way have become his family. In his video will, Bruce leaves various items to other heroes and his allies including leaving Doctor Strange his notes on the Hulk's ability to perceive ghosts and an egg-timer for the various former/current other Hulks (based on one of Bruce's more successful attempts to control himself as he would sit down for three minutes doing nothing before making a particularly big decision and then decide if he still wanted to do it).

 

Following the funeral of Bruce Banner, the Hand in allegiance with Daniel Drumm's ghost steal Bruce Banner's body in order to use the dead to bolster their ranks. When the reassembled Uncanny Avengers went to Japan and attempted to enlist Elektra for help in stopping the Hand, the ritual that the Hand performed has been completed as the Uncanny Avengers are attacked by a revived Hulk who is wearing samurai armor.

 

The Uncanny Avengers were able to contain Hulk's rampage and sever his mystical link to the Beast of the Hand. Afterward, Hulk regressed back to Bruce Banner and returned to the dead.[93]

 

During the 2017 "Secret Empire" storyline, Arnim Zola used an unknown method to temporarily revive Bruce Banner, and the Hydra Supreme version of Captain America persuades his Hulk side to attack the Underground's hideout called the Vault. He fought Thing and Giant-Man's A.I.Vengers until the temporary revival started to wear off and caused Hulk to die again.

 

During the "No Surrender" arc, the exiled Elder of the Universe Challenger revives Hulk to be his ace in the hole during a contest between his Black Order and Grandmaster's Lethal Legion.

 

Hulk participated since he knew that Earth will be destroyed either way while his Bruce Banner suspects that Hulk's revivals were a manifestation of Hulk's immortality. While defeating Cannonball and Living Lightning, breaking Vision, and draining the gamma energy out of Robert Maverick's Hulk Plug-In, Wonder Man successfully reasoned with him as Hulk destroyed the Pyarmoid in Voyager's possession. After feeling remorse for what happened, Bruce Banner became Hulk and faced off against Challenger. After Challenger sent Hulk into Earth's orbit, Hulk was pleased that he managed to hurt Challenger.

 

While maintaining a low profile, Bruce Banner was shot by Tommy Hill of the Dogs of Hell biker gang during a robbery that also claimed the lives of Sandy Brockhurst and Josh Alfaro. He came back to life and turned into Hulk where he badly beat up Tommy Hill. The witnesses in the Dogs of Hell told Detective Gloria Mayes of the attacker as she and reporter Jackie McGee have a suspicion that it was Hulk even though Banner is believed to be dead.

 

During the events of "Absolute Carnage," the Venom Symbiote takes Bruce as its host to fight Carnage. Inside of Bruce's mind, Bruce converses with the Venom Symbiote as the other Hulk identities such as Joe Fixit and Savage add their opinions about their current situation.

 

Devil (in his more traditional-looking reptilian form) is against the symbiote's presence in Bruce and says it should be removed immediately, saying they have more important matters to deal with. In the end, Bruce, Fixit, and Savage agree to collaborate with the Venom Symbiote and Devil storms off, saying they are making a mistake. As Bruce states that the vote is three to one with two abstentions, he welcomes the Venom symbiote to the family.

 

Powers and abilities

 

Bruce Banner

 

Considered to be one of the greatest scientific minds on Earth, Banner possesses "a mind so brilliant it cannot be measured on any known intelligence test."

 

Norman Osborn estimates that he is the fourth most-intelligent person on Earth. Banner holds expertise in biology, chemistry, engineering, medicine, physiology, and nuclear physics.

 

Using this knowledge, he creates advanced technology dubbed "Bannertech", which is on par with technological development from Tony Stark or Doctor Doom. Some of these technologies include a force field that can protect him from the attacks of Hulk-level entities, and a teleporter.

 

After becoming a fugitive from the law, Banner is forced to go on the run and over the years learns various skills in order to both survive and remain under radar of those who are hunting him.

 

Banner’s most frequent method of travel includes hitchhiking, train hopping or simply just walking as he is unable to travel legally via planes, passenger ships or buses due to being in several travel watchlists.

 

Banner is generally on the move and rarely ever stays in one place for very long and only does so if there’s a possibility of curing himself. He will only ever stay in one place for an extended period of time if it provides him with complete solitude and privacy where the Hulk can do little to no harm.

 

To avoid being tracked, Banner does not use cell phones, debit or credit cards and will only use payphone’s or cash. He will often use fake identities when staying at motels or working jobs that require identification.

 

Having been on the run for years, Banner can normally tell when he is being followed and will generally make a run for it when he is discovered. Having traveled across the globe, Banner is able to sneak over borders without being detected and can get by, by either knowing or learning the local language. Often traveling light, Banner has little to no possessions that he carries in either a satchel or backpack.

 

Often losing everything he owns after transforming into the Hulk, Banner avoids keeping anything of personal value to him so that he can easily replace the items and clothes that were lost or destroyed.

 

To support himself financially, Banner will work quick part time jobs and will only accept payments in cash. These jobs have varied from simply working in low pay diners to working as local doctor.

 

Banner’s work ethic as well as his vast knowledge and skillset in science, medicine and engineering often help him get hired rather quickly. Unless desperate, Banner will generally avoid jobs that are high stress due to the potential danger of transforming into the Hulk.

 

During his travels, Banner has developed several different techniques to help suppress or control his transformations when he becomes a little angry or upset.

 

Among the techniques he’s learned over the years include meditation and hypnotherapy. While they have helped him to better understand and suppress his transformations, none of techniques Banner has learned have helped him to gain full control over the Hulk.

 

The Hulk possesses the potential for seemingly limitless physical strength that is influenced by his emotional state, particularly his anger.

 

This has been reflected in the repeated comment "The madder Hulk gets, the stronger Hulk gets." The cosmically powerful entity known as the Beyonder once analyzed the Hulk's physiology, and claimed that the Hulk's potential strength had "no finite element inside."

 

Hulk's strength has been depicted as sometimes limited by Banner's subconscious influence; when Jean Grey psionically "shut Banner off", Hulk became strong enough to overpower and destroy the physical form of the villain Onslaught.

 

Writer Greg Pak described the Worldbreaker Hulk shown during World War Hulk as having a level of physical power where "Hulk was stronger than any mortal—and most immortals—who ever walked the Earth" and depicted the character as powerful enough to completely destroy entire planets.

 

His strength allows him to leap into lower Earth orbit or across continents, and he has displayed superhuman speed.

 

Exposure to radiation has also been shown to make the Hulk stronger. It is unknown how he gains biomass during transformation but it may be linked to subatomic black matter.

 

His durability, regeneration, and endurance also increase in proportion to his temper. Hulk is resistant to injury or damage, though the degree to which varies between interpretations, but he has withstood the equivalent of solar temperatures, nuclear explosions, and planet-shattering impacts.

 

Despite his remarkable resiliency, continuous barrages of high-caliber gunfire can hinder his movement to some degree while he can be temporarily subdued by intense attacks with chemical weapons such as anesthetic gases, although any interruption of such dosages will allow him to quickly recover.

 

He has been shown to have both regenerative and adaptive healing abilities, including growing tissues to allow him to breathe underwater, surviving unprotected in space for extended periods, and when injured, healing from most wounds within seconds, including, on one occasion, the complete destruction of most of his body mass.

 

His future self, the "Maestro", was even eventually able to recover from being blown to pieces. As an effect, he has an extremely prolonged lifespan.

 

He also possesses less commonly described powers, including abilities allowing him to "home in" to his place of origin in New Mexico; resist psychic control, or unwilling transformation; grow stronger from radiation or dark magic; punch his way between separate temporal or spatial dimensions; and to see and interact with astral forms.

 

Some of these abilities were in later years explained as being related; his ability to home in on the New Mexico bomb site was due to his latent ability to sense astral forms and spirits, since the bomb site was also the place where the Maestro's skeleton was and the Maestro's spirit was calling out to him in order to absorb his radiation.

 

He is also shown to have a separate memory to Bruce Banner - when Spider-Man has the knowledge of his secret identity erased during Spider-Man: One More Day, the Hulk later asks how Peter is doing, not Spider-Man; upon questioning, he enigmatically states "Banner forgot. But I don't forget."

 

⚡ Happy 🎯 Heroclix 💫 Friday! 👽

_____________________________

A year of the shows and performers of the Bijou Planks Theater.

 

Secret Identity: Robert Bruce Banner

 

Publisher: Marvel

 

First appearance: The Incredible Hulk #1 (May 1962)

 

Created by: Stan Lee (Writer)

Jack Kirby (Artist)

 

it totally goes with this song. really. bwahaha!!!

 

and how funny when a couple comes traipsing by and the man gives me Thee most horrified look when they find out I'm taking a self portrait...

and I was actually in a friendly chatty mood that evening but explanations just seemed to make it worse which cracked me up no end. Pretty sure they were telepathically telling each other to "make sure not to make eye contact with her. Remember what we've heard about Californian's..."

free o' charge folks! I make random appearances all around these parts. muahahaha!!!

 

oh and when it came to editing the light on the rock/cave entrance? Agony! I'm still unsure as to what exactly I did wrong but I suspect I might've (totally a word!) overexposed it. Yeah okay thinking about it a little harder that makes sense. SOB though!!!

 

love y'all

and a very lovely good night :)

xo

This shot has a lot of meaning to me. I took this in the morning of July, 1994, in Yosemite National Park. We had spent the night camped out here, at about 10,000 feet, but it had not been a good night for me. Having hiked nearly 30 miles over the previous couple of days, I was suffering from a combination of altitude sickness and exhaustion.

 

In the middle of the night, I woke up shaking uncontrollably (shivering); I could not stop. I viewed this as a very bad sign, health-wise, and needed to get to a lower elevation.

 

The next morning, feeling awful and unable to drink the iodine-infused water, I got this picture (on 35mm color film) before hiking down to Tanaka Lake.

 

The memory is unforgettable; I had wondered if I would make it out of there at all. Fortunately, I did. My memories of Yosemite will always include this perilous experience, as well as the beautiful scenes.

 

(This image was scanned from the 4x6 photo and then edited to reduce noise. If 1994 qualifies as "vintage", then this is vintage!)

 

The Society was never officially present on Ra’un. Forces were dispatched from sympathetic imperial remnants, or as ex-imperial mercenaries. Society leaders saw this campaign as an opportunity to get rid of uncontrollable experimental forces.

 

Unofficially however, the Society had sent a handful of elite agents. Rumors of a several force sensitive children in the local population, warranted sending in agents to secure and “evacuate” these individuals. The participation in the battle, and the heaps of expendable forces, was just a cover for the real operation. Operation Harvester.

 

///

 

The AT-ST was inspired by the concept art by Shane Molina (www.artstation.com/artwork/bzywv), and the head of the AT-ST is based on GolPlaysWithLego's AT-ST. Not a super stable build, but I'm happy with the result.

 

When I was looking for some new textures today (always looking!!), I came across this postcard on SophieG* www.flickr.com/photos/-smallfish-/ site and I just loved it.

 

I've only included a small part of the text on the photo but what was important to me was the CHERIE AMIE.

 

So this is for all my darling friends who:

 

Bring me Protea's

 

Who make me laugh uncontrollably

 

Who are incredibly generous

 

Who share my pain and sorrow

 

Who let me talk on and on and on !!!!!

 

Who let ME be ME

 

Where would I be without you all!!!!!

 

SNEAKED INTO EXPLORE #490 12TH SEPTEMBER

The Beast of Self Doubt -

In comics, the evil one is often depicted as a cleft hoofed creature with pointy tail holding a pitchfork. A fateful afternoon, the brute I never wish to meet cross my path without invite. Strangely, he was teeny, had deflated horns without air and his countenance was as blackened tar pit yet with sheen. Obviously, this Beelzebub that dwells on trees is cut from a different cloth. The mischievous imp began to twirl around his green broomstick rhythmically, ecstatically. The most terrible obstacles always lie within and I realized too late that I was about to be hit with a heavy dose of uncertainty. With a voice of gravels and nails, I feel a sniggering coming on as he fiddles an unfamiliar tune:

 

“Have you locked the gates before you leave? An open door tempts thieves with ease. Childhood play things are worth a fortune now, you know? What about the whistling kettle sitting on the gas stove, are the flames still stoking? An absent mind and a running tap can cause serious damage at times. Are you really sure, the stopper is unplugged from the kitchen sink? By the time you return, the house could be completely submerged. HEe-hee-hee!”

 

Hmm, the most expensive thing in the house… oops, my favorite Monopoly Game in limited edition! “Well, I’m pretty sure about that… I, um… won’t forget to remember… I, ahem… should be… maybe…,” my voice grew weak and faint. His blood buzz eyes stares me down. Hesitance began to tie my tongue in knots, until I couldn’t speak or even nod my head.

 

Sob! I shouldn’t been listening to his violin call, instead of answers he threw me doubts. To the right and to the left uncontrollably, my wayward feet ambled willingly in his beat. I cried a frustrated tear because I can’t cast out my adversary with malignant capabilities. In the middle of nowhere, I must now abandon my hike and hurry home to check things. In my book, only fools believe the devil does not exist.

I rarely eat ice cream but I had this uncontrollable craving for it today...it was da bomb : )

Dark Souls (2011)

 

Parasitic Headgear. An egg implanted on the head by a type of parasite bearing eggs on its back. The nightmare begins with a slight itch on the head, and soon the parasite will be siphoning the souls of slain enemies.

 

Black Knight Halberd

 

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Don Juan was about to start his explanation of the mastery of awareness, but he changed his mind and stood up. We had been sitting in the big room, observing a moment of quiet.

 

“I want you to try seeing the Eagle’s emanations,” he said. “For that you must first move your assemblage point until you see the cocoon of man.”

 

We walked from the house to the center of town. We sat down on an empty, worn park bench in front of the church, it was early afternoon; a sunny, windy day with lots of people milling around.

 

He repeated, as if he were trying to drill it into me, that alignment is a unique force because it either helps the assemblage point shift, or it keeps it glued to its customary position. The aspect of alignment that keeps the point stationary, he said, is will; and the aspect that makes it shift is intent. He remarked that one of the most haunting mysteries is how will, the impersonal force of alignment, changes into intent, the personalized force, which is at the service of each individual.

 

“The strangest part of this mystery is that the change is so easy to accomplish,” he went on. “But what is not so easy is to convince ourselves that it is possible. There, right there, is our safety catch. We have to be convinced. And none of us wants to be.”

 

He told me then that I was in my keenest state of awareness, and that it was possible for me to intend my assemblage point to shift deeper into my left side, to a dreaming position. He said that warriors should never attempt seeing unless they are aided by dreaming. I argued that to fall asleep in public was not one of my fortés. He clarified his statement, saying that to move the assemblage point away from its natural setting and to keep it fixed at a new location is to be asleep; with practice, seers learn to be asleep and yet behave as if nothing is happening to them.

 

After a moment’s pause he added that for purposes of seeing the cocoon of man, one has to gaze at people from behind, as they walk away. It is useless to gaze at people face to face, because the front of the egglike cocoon of man has a protective shield, which seers call the front plate, it is an almost impregnable, unyielding shield that protects us throughout our lives against the onslaught of a peculiar force that stems from the emanations themselves.

 

He also told me not to be surprised if my body was stiff, as though it were frozen; he said that I was going to feel very much like someone standing in the middle of a room looking at the street through a window, and that speed was of the essence, as people were going to move extremely fast by my seeing window. He told me then to relax my muscles, shut off my internal dialogue, and let my assemblage point drift away under the spell of inner silence. He urged me to smack myself gently but firmly on my right side, between my hipbone and my ribcage.

 

I did that three times and I was sound asleep. It was a most peculiar state of sleep. My body was dormant, but I was perfectly aware of everything that was taking place. I could hear don Juan talking to me and I could follow every one of his statements as if I were awake, yet I could not move my body at all.

 

Don Juan said that a man was going to walk by my seeing window and that I should try to see him. I unsuccessfully attempted to move my head and then a shiny egglike shape appeared, it was resplendent. I was awed by the sight and before I could recover from my surprise, it was gone. It floated away, bobbing up and down.

 

Everything had been so sudden and fast that it made me feel frustrated and impatient. I felt that I was beginning to wake up. Don Juan talked to me again and urged me to relax. He said that I had no right and no time to be impatient. Suddenly, another luminous being appeared and moved away. It seemed to be made of a white fluorescent shag.

 

Don Juan whispered in my ear that if I wanted to, my eyes were capable of slowing down everything they focused on. Then he warned me that another man was coming. I realized at that instant that there were two voices. The one I had just heard was the same one that had admonished me to be patient. That was don Juan’s. The other, the one that told me to use my eyes to slow down movement, was the voice of seeing.

 

That afternoon, I saw ten luminous beings in slow motion. The voice of seeing guided me to witness in them everything don Juan had told me about the glow of awareness. There was a vertical band with a stronger amber glow on the right side of those egglike luminous creatures, perhaps one-tenth of the total volume of the cocoon. The voice said that that was man’s band of awareness. The voice pointed out a dot on man’s band, a dot with an intense shine; it was high on the oblong shapes, almost on the crest of them, on the surface of the cocoon; the voice said that it was the assemblage point.

 

When I saw each luminous creature in profile, from the point of view of its body, its egglike shape was like a gigantic asymmetrical yoyo that was standing edgewise, or like an almost round pot that was resting on its side with its lid on. The part that looked like a lid was the front plate; it was perhaps one-fifth the thickness of the total cocoon.

 

I would have gone on seeing those creatures, but don Juan said that I should now gaze at people face to face and sustain my gaze until I had broken the barrier and I was seeing the emanations.

 

I followed his command. Almost instantaneously, I saw a most brilliant array of live, compelling fibers of light. It was a dazzling sight that immediately shattered my balance. I fell down on the cement walk on my side. From there, I saw the compelling fibers of light multiply themselves. They burst open and myriads of other fibers came out of them. But the fibers, compelling as they were, somehow did not interfere with my ordinary view. There were scores of people going into church. I was no longer seeing them. There were quite a few women and men just around the bench. I wanted to focus my eyes on them, but instead I noticed how one of those fibers of light bulged suddenly. It became like a ball of fire that was perhaps seven feet in diameter, it rolled on me. My first impulse was to roll out of its way. Before I could even move a muscle the ball had hit me. I felt it as clearly as if someone had punched me gently in the stomach. An instant later another ball of fire hit me, this time with considerably more strength, and then don Juan whacked me really hard on the cheek with his open hand. I jumped up involuntarily and lost sight of the fibers of light and the balloons that were hitting me.

 

Don Juan said that I had successfully endured my first brief encounter with the Eagle’s emanations, but that a couple of shoves from the tumbler had dangerously opened up my gap. He added that the balls that had hit me were called the rolling force, or the tumbler.

 

We had returned to his house, although I did not remember how or when. I had spent hours in a sort of semi-sleeping state. Don Juan and the other seers of his group had given me large amounts of water to drink. They had also submerged me in an ice-cold tub of water for short periods of time.

 

“Were those fibers I saw the Eagle’s emanations?” I asked don Juan.

 

“Yes. But you didn’t really see them,” he replied. “No sooner had you begun to see than the tumbler stopped you. If you had remained a moment longer it would have blasted you.”

 

“What exactly is the tumbler?” I asked.

 

“It is a force from the Eagle’s emanations,” he said. “A ceaseless force that strikes us every instant of our lives, it is lethal when seen, but otherwise we are oblivious to it, in our ordinary lives, because we have protective shields. We have consuming interests that engage all our awareness. We are permanently worried about our station, our possessions. These shields, however, do not keep the tumbler away, they simply keep us from seeing it directly, protecting us in this way from getting hurt by the fright of seeing the balls of fire hitting us. Shields are a great help and a great hindrance to us. They pacify us and at the same time fool us. They give us a false sense of security.”

 

He warned me that a moment would come in my life when I would be without any shields, uninterruptedly at the mercy of the tumbler. He said that it is an obligatory stage in the life of a warrior, known as losing the human form.

 

I asked him to explain to me once and for all what the human form is and what it means to lose it.

 

He replied that seers describe the human form as the compelling force of alignment of the emanations lit by the glow of awareness on the precise spot on which normally man’s assemblage point is fixated. It is the force that makes us into persons. Thus, to be a person is to be compelled to affiliate with that force of alignment and consequently to be affiliated with the precise spot where it originates.

 

By reason of their activities, at a given moment the assemblage points of warriors drift toward the left. It is a permanent move, which results in an uncommon sense of aloofness, or control, or even abandon. That drift of the assemblage point entails a new alignment of emanations. It is the beginning of a series of greater shifts. Seers very aptly called this initial shift losing the human form, because it marks an inexorable movement of the assemblage point away from its original setting, resulting in the irreversible loss of our affiliation to the force that makes us persons.

 

He asked me then to describe all the details I could remember about the balls of fire. I told him that I had seen them so briefly I was not sure I could describe them in detail.

 

He pointed out that seeing is an euphemism for moving the assemblage point, and that if I moved mine a fraction more to the left I would have a clear picture of the balls of fire, a picture which I could interpret then as having remembered them.

 

I tried to have a clear picture, but I couldn’t, so I described what I remembered.

 

He listened attentively and then urged me to recall if they were balls or circles of fire. I told him I didn’t remember.

 

He explained that those balls of fire are of crucial importance to human beings because they are the expression of a force that pertains to all details of life and death, something that the new seers call the rolling force.

 

I asked him to clarify what he meant by all the details of life and death.

 

“The rolling force is the means through which the Eagle distributes life and awareness for safekeeping,” he said. “But it also is the force that, let’s say, collects the rent. It makes all living beings die. What you saw today was called by the ancient seers the tumbler.”

 

He said that seers describe it as an eternal line of iridescent rings, or balls of fire, that roll onto living beings ceaselessly. Luminous organic beings meet the rolling force head on, until the day when the force proves to be too much for them and the creatures finally collapse. The old seers were mesmerized by seeing how the tumbler then tumbles them into the beak of the Eagle to be devoured. That was the reason they called it the tumbler.

 

“You said that it is a mesmerizing sight. Have you yourself seen it rolling human beings?” I asked.

 

“Certainly I’ve seen it,” he replied, and after a pause he added, “You and I saw it only a short while ago in Mexico City.”

 

His assertion was so farfetched that I felt obliged to tell him that this time he was wrong. He laughed and reminded me that on that occasion, while both of us were sitting on a bench in the Alameda Park in Mexico City, we had witnessed the death of a man. He said that I had recorded the event in my everyday-life memory as well as in my left-side emanations.

 

As don Juan spoke to me I had the sensation of something inside me becoming lucid by degrees, and I could visualize with uncanny clarity the whole scene in the park. The man was lying on the grass with three policemen standing by him to keep onlookers away. I distinctly remembered don Juan hitting me on my back to make me change levels of awareness. And then I saw. My seeing was imperfect. I was unable to shake off the sight of the world of everyday life.

 

What I ended up with was a composite of filaments of the most gorgeous colors superimposed on the buildings and the traffic. The filaments were actually lines of colored light that came from above. They had inner life; they were bright and bursting with energy.

 

When I looked at the dying man, I saw what don Juan was talking about; something that was at once like circles of fire, or iridescent tumbleweeds, was rolling everywhere I focused my eyes. The circles were rolling on people, on don Juan, on me. I felt them in my stomach and became ill.

 

Don Juan told me to focus my eyes on the dying man. I saw him at one moment curling up, just as a sowbug curls itself up upon being touched. The incandescent circles pushed him away, as if they were casting him aside, out of their majestic, inalterable path.

 

I had not liked the feeling. The circles of fire had not scared me; they were not awesome, or sinister. I did not feel morbid or somber. The circles rather had nauseated me. I’d felt them in the pit of my stomach. It was a revulsion that I’d felt that day.

 

Remembering them conjured up again the total feeling of discomfort I had experienced on that occasion. As I got ill, don Juan laughed until he was out of breath.

 

“You’re such an exaggerated fellow.” he said. “The rolling force is not that bad. It’s lovely, in fact. The new seers recommend that we open ourselves to it. The old seers also opened themselves to it, but for reasons and purposes guided mostly by self-importance and obsession.”

 

“The new seers, on the other hand, make friends with it. They become familiar with that force by handling it without any self-importance. The result is staggering in its consequences.”

 

He said that a shift of the assemblage point is all that is needed to open oneself to the rolling force. He added that if the force is seen in a deliberate manner, there is minimal danger. A situation that is extremely dangerous, however, is an involuntary shift of the assemblage point owing, perhaps, to physical fatigue, emotional exhaustion, disease, or simply a minor emotional or physical crisis, such as being frightened or being drunk.

 

“When the assemblage point shifts involuntarily, the rolling force cracks the cocoon,” he went on. “I’ve talked many times about a gap that man has below his navel. It’s not really below the navel itself, but in the cocoon, at the height of the navel. The gap is more like a dent, a natural flaw in the otherwise smooth cocoon. It is there where the tumbler hits us ceaselessly and where the cocoon cracks.”

 

He went on to explain that if it is a minor shift of the assemblage point, the crack is very small, the cocoon quickly repairs itself, and people experience what everybody has at one time or another: blotches of color and contorted shapes, which remain even if the eyes are closed.

 

If the shift is considerable, the crack also is extensive and it takes time for the cocoon to repair itself, as in the case of warriors who purposely use power plants to elicit that shift or people who take drugs and unwittingly do the same. In these cases men feel numb and cold; they have difficulty talking or even thinking; it is as if they have been frozen from inside.

 

Don Juan said that in cases in which the assemblage point shifts drastically because of the effects of trauma or of a mortal disease, the rolling force produces a crack the length of the cocoon; the cocoon collapses and curls in on itself, and the individual dies.

 

“Can a voluntary shift also produce a gap of that nature?” I asked.

 

“Sometimes,” he replied. “We’re really frail. As the tumbler hits us over and over, death comes to us through the gap. Death is the rolling force. When it finds weakness in the gap of a luminous being it automatically cracks it open and makes it collapse.”

 

“Does every living being have a gap?” I asked.

 

“Of course,” he replied. “If it didn’t have one it wouldn’t die. The gaps are different, however, in size and configuration. Man’s gap is a bowl-like depression the size of a fist, a very frail vulnerable configuration. The gaps of other organic creatures are very much like man’s; some are stronger than ours and others are weaker. But the gap of inorganic beings is really different. It’s more like a long thread, a hair of luminosity; consequently, inorganic beings are infinitely more durable than we are.”

 

“There is something hauntingly appealing about the long life of those creatures, and the old seers could not resist being carried away by that appeal.”

 

He said that the same force can produce two effects that are diametrically opposed. The old seers were imprisoned by the rolling force, and the new seers are rewarded for their toils with the gift of freedom. By becoming familiar with the rolling force through the mastery of intent, the new seers, at a given moment, open their own cocoons and the force floods them rather than rolling them up like a curled-up sowbug. The final result is their total and instantaneous disintegration.

 

I asked him a lot of questions about the survival of awareness after the luminous being is consumed by the fire from within. He did not answer. He simply chuckled, shrugged his shoulders, and went on to say that the old seers’ obsession with the tumbler blinded them to the other side of that force. The new seers, with their usual thoroughness in refusing tradition, went to the other extreme. They were at first totally averse to focusing their seeing on the tumbler; they argued that they needed to understand the force of the emanations at large in its aspect of lifegiver and enhancer of awareness.

 

“They realized that it is infinitely easier to destroy something,” don Juan went on, “than it is to build it and maintain it. To roll life away is nothing compared to giving it and nourishing it. Of course, the new seers were wrong on this count, but in due course they corrected their mistake.”

 

“How were they wrong, don Juan?”

 

“It’s an error to isolate anything for seeing. At the beginning, the new seers did exactly the opposite from what their predecessors did. They focused with equal attention on the other side of the tumbler. What happened to them was as terrible as, if not worse than, what happened to the old seers. They died stupid deaths, just as the average man does. They didn’t have the mystery or the malignancy of the ancient seers, nor had they the quest for freedom of the seers of today.”

 

“Those first new seers served everybody. Because they were focusing their seeing on the lifegiving side of the emanations, they were filled with love and kindness. But that didn’t keep them from being tumbled. They were vulnerable, just as were the old seers who were filled with morbidity.”

 

He said that for the modern-day new seers, to be left stranded after a life of discipline and toil, just like men who have never had a purposeful moment in their lives, was intolerable. Don Juan said that these new seers realized, after they had readopted their tradition, that the old seers’ knowledge of the rolling force had been complete; at one point the old seers had concluded that there were, in effect, two different aspects of the same force. The tumbling aspect relates exclusively to destruction and death. The circular aspect, on the other hand, is what maintains life and awareness, fulfillment and purpose. They had chosen, however, to deal exclusively with the tumbling aspect.

 

“Gazing in teams, the new seers were able to see the separation between the tumbling and the circular aspects,” he explained. “They saw that both forces are fused, but are not the same. The circular force comes to us just before the tumbling force; they are so close to each other that they seem the same.”

 

“The reason it’s called the circular force is that it comes in rings, threadlike hoops of iridescence – a very delicate affair indeed. And just like the tumbling force, it strikes all living beings ceaselessly, but for a different purpose. It strikes them to give them strength, direction, awareness; to give them life.”

 

“What the new seers discovered is that the balance of the two forces in every living being is a very delicate one,” he continued, “if at any given time an individual feels that the tumbling force strikes harder than the circular one, that means the balance is upset; the tumbling force strikes harder and harder from then on, until it cracks the living being’s gap and makes it die.”

 

He added that out of what I had called balls of fire comes an iridescent hoop exactly the size of living beings, whether men, trees, microbes, or allies.

 

“Are there different-size circles?” I asked.

 

“Don’t take me so literally,” he protested. “There are no circles to speak of, just a circular force that gives seers, who are dreaming it, the feeling of rings. And there are no different sizes either. It’s one indivisible force that fits all living beings, organic and inorganic.”

 

“Why did the old seers focus on the tumbling aspect?” I asked.

 

“Because they believed that their lives depended on seeing it,” he replied. “They were sure that their seeing was going to give them answers to age-old questions. You see, they figured that if they unraveled the secrets of the rolling force they would be invulnerable and immortal. The sad part is that in one way or another, they did unravel the secrets and yet they were neither invulnerable nor immortal.”

 

“The new seers changed it all by realizing that there is no way to aspire to immortality as long as man has a cocoon.”

 

Don Juan explained that the old seers apparently never realized that the human cocoon is a receptacle and cannot sustain the onslaught of the rolling force forever. In spite of all the knowledge that they had accumulated, they were in the end certainly no better, and perhaps much worse, off than the average man.

 

“In what way were they left worse off than the average man?” I asked.

 

“Their tremendous knowledge forced them to take it for granted that their choices were infallible,” he said. “So they chose to live at any cost.”

 

Don Juan looked at me and smiled. With his theatrical pause he was telling me something I could not fathom.

 

“They chose to live,” he repeated. “Just as they chose to become trees in order to assemble worlds with those nearly unreachable great bands.”

 

“What do you mean by that, don Juan?”

 

“I mean that they used the rolling force to shift their assemblage points to unimaginable dreaming positions, instead of letting it roll them to the beak of the Eagle to be devoured.”

 

The Death Defiers

 

I arrived at Genaro’s house around 2:00 p. m. Don Juan and I became involved in conversation, and then don Juan made me shift into heightened awareness.

 

“Here we are again, the three of us, just as we were the day we went to that flat rock,” don Juan said. “And tonight we’re going to make another trip to that area.”

 

“You have enough knowledge now to draw very serious conclusions about that place and its effects on awareness.”

 

“What is it with that place, don Juan?”

 

“Tonight you’re going to find out some gruesome facts that the old seers collected about the rolling force; and you’re going to see what I meant when I told you that the old seers chose to live at any cost.”

 

Don Juan turned to Genaro, who was about to fall asleep. He nudged him.

 

“Wouldn’t you say, Genaro, that the old seers-were dreadful men?” don Juan asked.

 

“Absolutely,” Genaro said in a crisp tone and then seemed to succumb to fatigue.

 

He began to nod noticeably. In an instant he was sound asleep, his head resting on his chest with his chin tucked in. He snored.

 

I wanted to laugh out loud. But then I noticed that Genaro was staring at me, as if he were sleeping with his eyes open.

 

“They were such dreadful men that they even defied death,” Genaro added between snores.

 

“Aren’t you curious to know how those gruesome men defied death?” don Juan asked me.

 

He seemed to be urging me to ask for an example of their gruesomeness. He paused and looked at me with what I thought was a glint of expectation in his eyes.

 

“You’re waiting for me to ask for an example, aren’t you?” I said.

 

“This is a great moment,” he said, patting me on the back and laughing. “My benefactor had me on the edge of my seat at this point. I asked him to give me an example, and he did; now I’m going to give you one whether you ask for it or not.”

 

“What are you going to do?” I asked, so frightened that my stomach was tied in knots and my voice cracked.

 

It took quite a while for don Juan to stop laughing. Every time he started to speak, he’d get an attack of coughing laughter.

 

“As Genaro told you, the old seers were dreadful men,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “There was something they tried to avoid at all costs: they didn’t want to die. You may say that the average man doesn’t want to die either, but the advantage that the old seers had over the average man was that they had the concentration and the discipline to intend things away; and they actually intended death away.”

 

He paused and looked at me with raised eyebrows. He said that I was falling behind, that I was not asking my usual questions. I remarked that it was plain to me that he was leading me to ask if the old seers had succeeded in intending death away, but he himself had already told me that their knowledge about the tumbler had not saved them from dying.

 

“They succeeded in intending death away,” he said, pronouncing his words with extra care. “But they still had to die.”

 

“How did they intend death away?” I asked.

 

“They observed their allies,” he said, “and seeing that they were living beings with a much greater resilience to the rolling force, the seers patterned themselves on their allies.”

 

“The old seers realized,” don Juan explained, “that only organic beings have a gap that resembles a bowl. Its size and shape and its brittleness make it the ideal configuration to hasten the cracking and collapsing of the luminous shell under the onslaughts of the tumbling force. The allies, on the other hand, who have only a line for a gap, present such a small surface to the rolling force as to be practically immortal. Their cocoons can sustain the onslaughts of the tumbler indefinitely, because hairline gaps offer no ideal configuration to it.”

 

“The old seers developed the most bizarre techniques for closing their gaps,” don Juan continued. “They were essentially correct in assuming that a hairline gap is more durable than a bowl-like one.”

 

“Are those techniques still in existence?” I asked.

 

“No, they are not,” he said. “But some of the seers who practiced them are.”

 

For reasons unknown to me, his statement caused a reaction of sheer terror in me. My breathing was altered instantly, and I couldn’t control its rapid pace.

 

“They’re still alive to this day, isn’t that so, Genaro?” don Juan asked.

 

“Absolutely,” Genaro muttered from an apparent state of deep sleep.

 

I asked don Juan if he knew the reason for my being so frightened. He reminded me about a previous occasion in that very room when they had asked me if I had noticed the weird creatures that had come in the moment Genaro opened the door.

 

“That day your assemblage point went very deep into the left side and assembled a frightening world,” he went on. “But I have already said that to you; what you don’t remember is that you went directly to a very remote world and scared yourself pissless there.”

 

Don Juan turned to Genaro, who was snoring peacefully with his legs stretched out in front of him.

 

“Wasn’t he scared pissless, Genaro?” he asked.

 

“Absolutely pissless,” Genaro muttered, and don Juan laughed.

 

“I want you to know that we don’t blame you for being scared,” don Juan continued. “We, ourselves, are revolted by some of the actions of the old seers. I’m sure that you have realized by now that what you can’t remember about that night is that you saw the old seers who are still alive.”

 

I wanted to protest that I had realized nothing, but I could not voice my words. I had to clear my throat over and over before I could articulate a word. Genaro had stood up and was gently patting my upper back, by my neck, as if I were choking.

 

“You have a frog in your throat,” he said.

 

I thanked him in a high squeaky voice.

 

“No, I think you have a chicken there,” he added and sat down to sleep.

 

Don Juan said that the new seers had rebelled against all the bizarre practices of the old seers and declared them not only useless but injurious to our total being. They even went so far as to ban those techniques from whatever was taught to new warriors; and for generations there was no mention of those practices at all.

 

It was in the early part of the eighteenth century that the nagual Sebastian, a member of don Juan’s direct line of naguals, rediscovered the existence of those techniques.

 

“How did he rediscover them?” I asked.

 

“He was a superb stalker, and because of his impeccability he got a chance to learn marvels,” don Juan replied.

 

He said that one day as the nagual Sebastian was about to start his daily routines – he was the sexton at the cathedral in the city where he lived – he found a middle-aged Indian man who seemed to be in a quandary at the door of the church.

 

The nagual Sebastian went to the man’s side and asked him if he needed help.

 

“I need a bit of energy to close my gap,” the man said to him in a loud clear voice. “Would you give me some of your energy?”

 

Don Juan said that according to the story, the nagual Sebastian was dumbfounded. He did not know what the man was talking about. He offered to take the Indian to see the parish priest. The man lost his patience and angrily accused the nagual Sebastian of stalling.

 

“I need your energy because you’re a nagual,” he said. “Let’s go quietly.”

 

The nagual Sebastian succumbed to the magnetic power of the stranger and meekly went with him into the mountains. He was gone for many days. When he came back he not only had a new outlook about the ancient seers, but detailed knowledge of their techniques. The stranger was an ancient Toltec. One of the last survivors.

 

“The nagual Sebastian found out marvels about the old seers,” don Juan went on. “He was the one who first knew how grotesque and aberrant they really were. Before him, that knowledge was only hearsay.”

 

“One night my benefactor and the nagual Elias gave me a sample of those aberrations. They really showed it to Genaro and me together, so it’s only proper that we both show you the same sample.”

 

I wanted to talk in order to stall; I needed time to calm down, to think things out. But before I could say anything, don Juan and Genaro were practically dragging me out of the house. They headed for the same eroded hills we had visited before.

 

We stopped at the bottom of a large barren hill. Don Juan pointed toward some distant mountains to the south, and said that between the place where we stood and a natural cut in one of those mountains, a cut that looked like an open mouth, there were at least seven sites where the ancient seers had focused all the power of their awareness.

 

Don Juan said that those seers had not only been knowledgeable and daring but downright successful. He added that his benefactor had showed him and Genaro a site where the old seers, driven by their love for life, had buried themselves alive and actually intended the rolling force away.

 

“There is nothing that would catch the eye in those places,” he went on. “The old seers were careful not to leave marks. It is just a landscape. One has to see to know where those places are.”

 

He said that he did not want to walk to the faraway sites, but would take me to the one that was nearest. I insisted on knowing what we were after. He said that we were going to see the buried seers, and that for that we had to stay until it got dark under the cover of some green bushes. He pointed them out; they were perhaps half a mile away, up a steep slope.

 

We reached the patch of bushes and sat down as comfortably as we could. He began then to explain in a very low voice that in order to get energy from the earth, ancient seers used to bury themselves for periods of time, depending on what they wanted to accomplish. The more difficult their task, the longer their burial period.

 

Don Juan stood up and in a melodramatic way showed me a spot a few yards from where we were.

 

“Two old seers are buried there,” he said. “They buried themselves about two thousand years ago to escape death, not in the spirit of running away from it but in the spirit of defying it.”

 

Don Juan asked Genaro to show me the exact spot where the old seers were buried. I turned to look at Genaro and realized that he was sitting by my side sound asleep again. But to my utter amazement, he jumped up and barked like a dog and ran on all fours to the spot don Juan was pointing out. There he ran around the place in a perfect mime of a small dog.

 

I found his performance hilarious. Don Juan was nearly on the ground laughing.

 

“Genaro has shown you something extraordinary,” don Juan said, after Genaro had returned to where we were and had gone back to sleep. “He has shown you something about the assemblage point and dreaming. He’s dreaming now, but he can act as if he were fully awake and he can hear everything you say. From that position he can do more than if he were awake.”

 

He was silent for a moment as if assessing what to say next. Genaro snored rhythmically. Don Juan remarked how easy it was for him to find flaws with what the old seers had done, yet, in all fairness, he never tired of repeating how wonderful their accomplishments were. He said that they understood the earth to perfection. Not only did they discover and use the boost from the earth, but they also discovered that if they remained buried, their assemblage points aligned emanations that were ordinarily inaccessible, and that such an alignment engaged the earth’s strange, inexplicable capacity to deflect the ceaseless strikes of the rolling force.

 

Consequently, they developed the most astounding and complex techniques for burying themselves for extremely long periods of time without any detriment to themselves. In their fight against death, they learned how to elongate those periods to cover millennia.

 

It was a cloudy day, and night fell quickly. In no time at all, everything was in darkness. Don Juan stood up and guided me and the sleepwalker Genaro to an enormous flat oval rock that had caught my eye the moment we got to that place. It was similar to the flat rock we had visited before, but bigger. It occurred to me that the rock, enormous as it was, had deliberately been placed there.

 

“This is another site,” don Juan said. “This huge rock was placed here as a trap, to attract people. Soon you’ll know why.”

 

I felt a shiver run through my body. I thought I was going to faint. I knew that I was definitely overreacting and wanted to say something about it, but don Juan kept on talking in a hoarse whisper. He said that Genaro, since he was dreaming, had enough control over his assemblage point to move it until he could reach the specific emanations that would wake up whatever was around that rock. He recommended that I try to move my assemblage point, and follow Genaro’s.

 

He said that I could do it, first by setting up my unbending intent to move it, and second by letting the context of the situation dictate where it should move.

 

After a moment’s thought he whispered in my ear not to worry about procedures, because most of the really unusual things that happen to seers, or to the average man for that matter, happen by themselves, with only the intervention of intent.

 

He was silent for a moment and then added that the danger for me was going to be the buried seers’ inevitable attempt to scare me to death. He exhorted me to keep myself calm and not to succumb to fear, but follow Genaro’s movements.

 

I fought desperately not to be sick. Don Juan patted me on the back and said that I was an old pro at playing an innocent bystander. He assured me that I was not consciously refusing to let my assemblage point move, but that every human being does it automatically.

 

“Something is going to scare the living daylights out of you,” he whispered. “Don’t give up, because if you do, you’ll die and the old vultures around here are going to feast on your energy.”

 

“Let’s get out of here,” I pleaded. “I really don’t give a damn about getting an example of the old seers’ grotesqueness.”

 

“It’s too late,” Genaro said, fully awake now, standing by my side. “Even if we try to get away, the two seers and their allies on the other spot will cut you down. They have already made a circle around us. There are as many as sixteen awarenesses focused on you right now.”

 

“Who are they?” I whispered in Genaro’s ear.

 

“The four seers and their court,” he replied. “They’ve been aware of us since we got here.”

 

I wanted to turn tail and run for dear life, but don Juan held my arm and pointed to the sky. I noticed that a remarkable change in visibility had taken place. Instead of the pitch-black darkness that had prevailed, there was a pleasant dawn twilight. I made a quick assessment of the cardinal points. The sky was definitely lighter toward the east.

 

I felt a strange pressure around my head. My ears were buzzing. I felt cold and feverish at the same time. I was scared as I had never been before, but what bothered me was a nagging sensation of defeat, of being a coward. I felt nauseated and miserable.

 

Don Juan whispered in my ear. He said that I had to be on the alert, that the onslaught of the old seers would be felt by all three of us at any moment.

 

“You can grab on to me if you want to,” Genaro said in a fast whisper as if something were prodding him.

 

I hesitated for an instant. I did not want don Juan to believe that I was so scared I needed to hold on to Genaro.

 

“Here they come!” Genaro said in a loud whisper.

 

The world turned upside down instantaneously for me when something gripped me by my left ankle. I felt the coldness of death on my entire body. I knew I had stepped on an iron clamp, maybe a bear trap. That all flashed through my mind before I let out a piercing scream, as intense as my fright.

 

Don Juan and Genaro laughed out loud. They were flanking me no more than three feet away, but I was so terrified I did not even notice them.

 

“Sing! Sing for dear life!” I heard don Juan ordering me under his breath.

 

I tried to pull my foot loose. I felt then a sting, as if needles were piercing my skin. Don Juan insisted over and over that I sing. He and Genaro started to sing a popular song. Genaro spoke the lyrics as he looked at me from hardly two inches away. They sang off-key in raspy voices, getting so completely out of breath and so high out of the range of their voices that I ended up laughing.

 

“Sing, or you’re going to perish,” don Juan said to me.

 

“Let’s make a trio,” Genaro said, “We’ll sing a bolero.”

 

I joined them in an off-key trio. We sang for quite a while at the top of our voices, like drunkards. I felt that the iron grip on my leg was gradually letting go of me. I had not dared to look down at my ankle. At one moment I did and I realized then that there was no trap clutching me. A dark, headlike shape was biting me!

 

Only a supreme effort kept me from fainting. I felt I was getting sick and automatically tried to bend over, but somebody with superhuman strength grabbed me painlessly by the elbows and the nape of my neck and did not let me move. I got sick all over my clothes.

 

My revulsion was so complete that I began to fall in a faint. Don Juan sprinkled my face with some water from the small gourd he always carried when we went into the mountains. The water slid under my collar. The coldness restored my physical balance, but it did not affect the force that was holding me by my elbows and neck.

 

“I think you are going too far with your fright,” don Juan said loudly and in such a matter-of fact tone that he created an immediate feeling of order.

 

“Let’s sing again,” he added. “Let’s sing a song with substance – I don’t want any more boleros.”

 

I silently thanked him for his sobriety and for his grand style. I was so moved as I heard them singing “La Valentina” that I began to weep.

 

Because of my passion, they say

 

that ill fortune is on my way.

 

It doesn’t matter

 

that it might be the devil himself.

 

I do know how to die

 

Valentina, Valentina.

 

I throw myself in your way.

 

If I am going to die tomorrow,

 

why not, once and for all, today?

 

All of my being staggered under the impact of that inconceivable juxtaposition of values. Never had a song meant so much to me. As I heard them sing those lyrics, which I ordinarily considered reeking with cheap sentimentalism, I thought I understood the ethos of the warrior.

 

Don Juan had drilled into me that warriors live with death at their side, and from the knowledge that death is with them they draw the courage to face anything. Don Juan had said that the worst that could happen to us is that we have to die, and since that is already our unalterable fate, we are free; those who have lost everything no longer have anything to fear.

 

I walked to don Juan and Genaro and embraced them to express my boundless gratitude and admiration for them.

 

Then I realized that nothing was holding me any longer. Without a word don Juan took my arm and guided me to sit on the flat rock.

 

“The show is just about to begin now,” Genaro said in a jovial tone as he tried to find a comfortable position to sit. “You’ve just paid your admission ticket. It’s all over your chest.”

 

He looked at me, and both of them began to laugh.

 

“Don’t sit too close to me,” Genaro said. “I don’t appreciate pukers. But don’t go too far, either. The old seers are not yet through with their tricks.”

 

I moved as close to them as politeness permitted. I was concerned about my fate for an instant, and then all my qualms became nonsense, for I noticed that some people were coming toward us. I could not make out their shapes clearly but I distinguished a mass of human figures moving in the semidarkness. They did not carry lanterns or flashlights with them, which at that hour they would still have needed. Somehow that detail worried me. I did not want to focus on it and I deliberately began to think rationally. I figured that we must have attracted attention with our loud singing and they were coming to investigate. Don Juan tapped me on the shoulder. He pointed with a movement of his chin to the men in front of the group of others.

 

“Those four are the old seers,” he said. “The rest are their allies.”

 

Before I could remark that they were just local peasants, I heard a swishing sound right behind me. I quickly turned around in a state of total alarm. My movement was so sudden that don Juan’s warning came too late.

 

“Don’t turn around!” I heard him yell.

 

His words were only background; they did not mean anything to me. On turning around, I saw that three grotesquely deformed men had climbed up on the rock right behind me; they were crawling toward me, with their mouths open in a nightmarish grimace and their arms outstretched to grab me.

 

I intended to scream at the top of my lungs, but what came out was an agonizing croak, as if something were obstructing my windpipe. I automatically rolled out of their reach and onto the ground.

 

As I stood up, don Juan jumped to my side, at the very same moment that a horde of men, led by those don Juan had pointed out, descended on me like vultures. They were actually squeaking like bats or rats. I yelled in terror. This time I was able to let out a piercing cry.

 

Don Juan, as nimbly as an athlete in top form, pulled me out of their clutches onto the rock. He told me in a stern voice not to turn around to look, no matter how scared I was. He said that the allies cannot push at all, but that they certainly could scare me and make me fall to the ground. On the ground, however, the allies could hold anybody down. If I were to fall on the ground by the place where the seers were buried, I would be at their mercy. They would rip me apart while their allies held me. He added that he had not told me all that before because he had hoped I would be forced to see and understand it by myself. His decision had nearly cost me my life. The sensation that the grotesque men were just behind me was nearly unbearable. Don Juan forcefully ordered me to keep calm and focus my attention on four men at the head of a crowd of perhaps ten or twelve. The instant I focused my eyes on them, as if on cue, they all advanced to the edge of the flat rock. They stopped there and began hissing like serpents. They walked back and forth. Their movement seemed to be synchronized. It was so consistent and orderly that it seemed to be mechanical. It was as if they were following a repetitive pattern, aimed at mesmerizing me.

 

“Don’t gaze at them, dear,” Genaro said to me as if he were talking to a child.

 

The laughter that followed was as hysterical as my fear. I laughed so hard that the sound reverberated on the surrounding hills.

 

The men stopped at once and seemed to be perplexed. I could distinguish the shapes of their heads bobbing up and down as if they were talking, deliberating among themselves. Then one of them jumped onto the rock.

 

“Watch out! That one is a seer!” Genaro exclaimed.

 

“What are we going to do?” I shouted.

 

“We could start singing again,” don Juan replied matter-of-factly.

 

My fear reached its apex then. I began to jump up and down and to roar like an animal. The man jumped down to the ground.

 

“Don’t pay any more attention to those clowns,” don Juan said. “Let’s talk as usual.”

 

He said that we had gone there for my enlightenment, and that I was failing miserably. I had to reorganize myself. The first thing to do was to realize that my assemblage point had moved and was now making obscure emanations glow. To carry the feelings from my usual state of awareness into the world I had assembled was indeed a travesty, for fear is only prevalent among the emanations of daily life.

 

I told him that if my assemblage point had shifted as he was saying it had, I had news for him. My fear was infinitely greater and more devastating than anything I had ever experienced in my daily life.

 

“You’re wrong,” he said. “Your first attention is confused and doesn’t want to give up control, that’s all. I have the feeling that you could walk right up to those creatures and face them and they wouldn’t do a thing to you.”

 

I insisted that I was definitely in no condition to test such a preposterous thing as that.

 

He laughed at me. He said that sooner or later I had to cure myself of my madness, and that to take the initiative and face up to those four seers was infinitely less preposterous than the idea that I was seeing them at all. He said that to him madness was to be confronted by men who had been buried for two thousand years and were still alive, and not to think that that was the epitome of preposterousness.

 

I heard everything he said with clarity, but I was not really paying attention to him. I was terrified of the men around the rock. They seemed to be preparing to jump us, to jump me really. They were fixed on me. My right arm began to shake as if I were stricken by some muscular disorder. Then I became aware that the light in the sky had changed. I had not noticed before that it was already dawn. The strange thing was that an uncontrollable urge made me stand up and run to the group of men.

 

I had at that moment two completely different feelings about the same event. The minor one was of sheer terror. The other, the major one, was of total indifference. I could not have cared less. When I reached the group I realized that don Juan was right; they were not really men. Only four of them had any resemblance to men, but they were not men either; they were strange creatures with huge yellow eyes. The others were just shapes that were propelled by the four that resembled men.

 

I felt extraordinarily sad for those creatures with yellow eyes. I tried to touch them, but I could not find them. Some sort of wind scooped them away.

 

I looked for don Juan and Genaro. They were not there. It was pitch-black again. I called out their names over and over again. I thrashed around in darkness for a few minutes. Don Juan came to my side and startled me. I did not see Genaro.

 

“Let’s go home,” he said. “We have a long walk.”

 

Don Juan commented on how well I had performed at the site of the buried seers, especially during the last part of our encounter with them. He said that a shift of the assemblage point is marked by a change in light. In the daytime, light becomes very dark; at night, darkness becomes twilight. He added that I had performed two shifts by myself, aided only by animal fright. The only thing he found objectionable was my indulging in fear, especially after I had realized that warriors have nothing to fear.

 

“How do you know I had realized that?” I asked.

 

“Because you were free. When fear disappears all the ties that bind us dissolve,” he said. “An ally was gripping your foot because it was attracted by your animal terror.”

 

I told him how sorry I was for not being able to uphold my realizations.

 

“Don’t concern yourself with that.” He laughed. “You know that such realizations are a dime a dozen; they don’t amount to anything in the life of warriors, because they are canceled out as the assemblage point shifts.”

 

“What Genaro and I wanted to do was to make you shift very deeply. This time Genaro was there simply to entice the old seers. He did it once already, and you went so far into the left side that it will take quite a while for you to remember it. Your fright tonight was just as intense as it was that first time when the seers and their allies followed you to this very room, but your sturdy first attention wouldn’t let you be aware of them.”

 

“Explain to me what happened at the site of the seers,” I asked.

 

“The allies came out to see you,” he replied. “Since they have very low energy, they always need the help of men. The four seers have collected twelve allies.

 

“The countryside in Mexico and also certain cities are dangerous. What happened to you can happen to any man or woman. If they bump into that tomb, they may even see the seers and their allies, if they are pliable enough to let their fear make their assemblage points shift; but one thing is for sure: they can die of fright.”

 

“But do you honestly believe that those Toltec seers are still alive?” I asked.

 

He laughed and shook his head in disbelief.

 

“It’s time for you to shift that assemblage point of yours just a bit,” he said. “I can’t talk to you when you are in your idiot’s stage.”

 

He smacked me with the palm of his hand on three spots: right on the crest of my right hipbone, on the center of my back below my shoulder blades, and on the upper part of my right pectoral muscle.

 

My ears immediately began to buzz. A trickle of blood ran out of my right nostril, and something inside me became unplugged. It was as if some flow of energy had been blocked and suddenly began to move again.

 

“What were those seers and their allies after?” I asked.

 

“Nothing,” he replied. “We were the ones who were after them. The seers, of course, had already noticed your field of energy the first time you saw them; when you came back, they were set to feast on you.”

 

“You claim that they are alive, don Juan,” I said. “You must mean that they are alive as allies are alive, is that so?”

 

“That’s exactly right,” he said. “They cannot possibly be alive as you and I are. That would be preposterous.”

 

He went on to explain that the ancient seers’ concern with death made them look into the most bizarre possibilities. The ones who opted for the allies’ pattern had in mind, doubtless, a desire for a haven. And they found it, at a fixed position in one of the seven bands of inorganic awareness.

 

The seers felt that they were relatively safe there. After all, they were separated from the daily world by a nearly insurmountable barrier, the barrier of perception set by the assemblage point.

 

“When the four seers saw that you could shift your assemblage point they took off like bats out of hell,” he said and laughed.

 

“Do you mean that I assembled one of the seven worlds?” I asked.

 

“No, you didn’t,” he replied. “But you have done it before, when the seers and their allies chased you. That day you went all the way to their world. The problem is that you love to act stupid, so you can’t remember it at all.

 

“I’m sure that it is the nagual’s presence,” he continued, “that sometimes makes people act dumb. When the nagual Julian was still around, I was dumber than I am now. I am convinced that when I’m no longer here, you’ll be capable of remembering everything.”

 

Don Juan explained that since he needed to show me the death defiers, he and Genaro had lured them to the outskirts of our world. What I had done at first was a deep lateral shift, which allowed me to see them as people, but at the end I had correctly made the shift that allowed me to see the death defiers and their allies as they are.

 

Very early the next morning, at Silvio Manuel’s house, don Juan called me to the big room to discuss the events of the previous night. I felt exhausted and wanted to rest, to sleep, but don Juan was pressed for time. He immediately started his explanation. He said that the old seers had found out a way to utilize the rolling force and be propelled by it. Instead of succumbing to the onslaughts of the tumbler they rode with it and let it move their assemblage points to the confines of human possibilities.

 

Don Juan expressed unbiased admiration for such an accomplishment. He admitted that nothing else could give the assemblage point the boost that the tumbler gives.

 

I asked him about the difference between the earth’s boost and the tumbler’s boost. He explained that the earth’s boost is the force of alignment of only the amber emanations, it is a boost that heightens awareness to unthinkable degrees. To the new seers it is a blast of unlimited consciousness, which they call total freedom.

 

He said that the tumbler’s boost, on the other hand, is the force of death. Under the impact of the tumbler, the assemblage point moves to new, unpredictable positions. Thus, the old seers were always alone in their journeys, although the enterprise they were involved in was always communal. The company of other seers on their journeys was fortuitous and usually meant struggle for supremacy.

 

I confessed to don Juan that the concerns of the old seers, whatever they may have been, were worse than morbid horror tales to me. He laughed uproariously. He seemed to be enjoying himself.

 

“You have to admit, no matter how disgusted you feel, that those devils were very daring,” he went on. “I never liked them myself, as you know, but I can’t help admiring them. Their love for life is truly beyond me.”

 

“How can that be love for life, don Juan? It’s something nauseating,” I said.

 

“What else could push a man to those extremes if it is not love for life?” he asked. “They loved life so intensely that they were not willing to give it up. That’s the way I have seen it. My benefactor saw something else. He believed that they were afraid to die, which is not the same as loving life. I say that they were afraid to die because they loved life and because they had seen marvels, and not because they were greedy little monsters. No. They were aberrant because nobody ever challenged them and they were spoiled like rotten children, but their daring was impeccable and so was their courage.”

 

“Would you venture into the unknown out of greed? No way. Greed works only in the world of ordinary affairs. To venture into that terrifying loneliness one must have something greater than greed. Love, one needs love for life, for intrigue, for mystery. One needs unquenching curiosity and guts galore. So don’t give me this nonsense about your being revolted. It’s embarrassing!”

 

Don Juan’s eyes were shining with contained laughter. He was putting me in my place, but he was laughing at it.

 

Don Juan left me alone in the room for perhaps an hour. I wanted to organize my thoughts and feelings. I had no way to do that. I knew without any doubt that my assemblage point was at a position where reasoning does not prevail, yet I was moved by reasonable concerns. Don Juan had said that technically, as soon as the assemblage point shifts, we are asleep. I wondered, for instance, if I was sound asleep from the stand of an onlooker, just as Genaro had been asleep to me.

 

I asked don Juan about it as soon as he returned.

 

“You are absolutely asleep without having to be stretched out,” he replied. “If people in a normal state of awareness saw you now, you would appear to them to be a bit dizzy, even drunk.”

 

He explained that during normal sleep, the shift of the assemblage point runs along either edge of man’s band. Such shifts are always coupled with slumber. Shifts that are induced by practice occur along the midsection of man’s band and are not coupled with slumber, yet a dreamer is asleep.

 

“Right at this juncture is where the new and the old seers made their separate bids for power,” he went on. “The old seers wanted a replica of the body, but with more physical strength, so they made their assemblage points slide along the right edge of man’s band. The deeper they moved along the right edge the more bizarre their dreaming body became. You, yourself, witnessed last night the monstrous result of a deep shift along the right edge.”

 

He said that the new seers were completely different, that they maintain their assemblage points along the midsection of man’s band. If the shift is a shallow one, like the shift into heightened awareness, the dreamer is almost like anyone else in the street, except for a slight vulnerability to emotions, such as fear and doubt. But at a certain degree of depth, the dreamer who is shifting along the midsection becomes a blob of light. A blob of light is the dreaming body of the new seers.

 

He also said that such an impersonal dreaming body is more conducive to understanding and examination, which are the basis of all the new seers do. The intensely humanized dreaming body of the old seers drove them to look for answers that were equally personal, humanized.

 

Don Juan suddenly seemed to be groping for words.

 

“There is another death defier,” he said curtly, “so unlike the four you’ve seen that he’s indistinguishable from the average man in the street. He’s accomplished this unique feat by being able to open and close his gap whenever he wants.”

 

He played with his fingers almost nervously.

 

“The ancient seer that the nagual Sebastian found in 1723 is that death defier,” he went on. “We count that day as the beginning of our line, the second beginning. That death defier, who’s been on the earth for hundreds of years, has changed the lives of every nagual he met, some more profoundly than others. And he has met every single nagual of our line since that day in 1723.”

 

Don Juan looked fixedly at me. I got strangely embarrassed. I thought my embarrassment was the result of a dilemma. I had very serious doubts about the content of the story, and at the same time I had the most disconcerting trust that everything he had said was true. I expressed my quandary to him.

 

“The problem of rational disbelief is not yours alone,” don Juan said. “My benefactor was at first plagued by the same question. Of course, later on he remembered everything. But it took him a long time to do so. When I met him he had already recollected everything, so I never witnessed his doubts. I only heard about them.”

 

“The weird part is that people who have never set eyes on the man have less difficulty accepting that he’s one of the original seers. My benefactor said that his quandaries stemmed from the fact that the shock of meeting such a creature had lumped together a number of emanations. It takes time for those emanations to separate themselves.”

 

Don Juan went on to explain that as my assemblage point kept on shifting, a moment would come when it would hit the proper combination of emanations; at that moment the proof of the existence of that man would become overwhelmingly evident to me.

 

I felt compelled to talk again about my ambivalence.

 

“We’re deviating from our subject,” he said. “It may seem that I’m trying to convince you of the existence of that man; and what I meant to talk about is the fact that the old seer knows how to handle the rolling force. Whether or not you believe that he exists is not important. Someday you’ll know for a fact that he certainly succeeded in closing his gap. The energy that he borrows from the nagual every generation he uses exclusively to close his gap.”

 

“How did he succeed in closing it?” I asked.

 

“There is no way of knowing that,” he replied. “I’ve talked to two other naguals who saw that man face to face, the nagual Julian and the nagual Elias. Neither of them knew how. The man never revealed how he closes that opening, which I suppose begins to expand after a time. The nagual Sebastian said that when he first saw the old seer, the man was very weak, actually dying. But my benefactor found him prancing vigorously, like a young man.”

 

Don Juan said that the nagual Sebastian nicknamed that nameless man “the tenant,” for they struck an arrangement by which the man was given energy, lodging so to speak, and he paid rent in the form of favors and knowledge.

 

“Did anybody ever get hurt in the exchange?” I asked.

 

“None of the naguals who exchanged energy with him was injured,” he replied. “The man’s commitment was that he’d only take a bit of superfluous energy from the nagual in exchange for gifts, for extraordinary abilities. For instance, the nagual Julian got the gait of power. With it, he could activate or make dormant the emanations inside his cocoon in order to look young or old at will.”

 

Don Juan explained that the death defiers in general went as far as rendering dormant all the emanations inside their cocoons, except those that matched the emanations of the allies. In this fashion they were able to imitate the allies in some form.

 

Each of the death defiers we had encountered at the rock, don Juan said, had been able to move his assemblage point to a precise spot on his cocoon in order to emphasize the emanations shared with the allies and to interact with them. But they were all unable to move it back to its usual position and interact with people. The tenant, on the other hand, is capable of shifting his assemblage point to assemble the everyday world as if nothing had ever happened.

 

Don Juan also said that his benefactor was convinced – and he fully agreed with him – that what takes place during the borrowing of energy is that the old sorcerer moves the nagual’s assemblage point to emphasize the ally’s emanations inside the nagual’s cocoon. He then uses the great jolt of energy produced by those emanations that suddenly become aligned after being so deeply dormant.

 

He said that the energy locked within us, in the dormant emanations, has a tremendous force and an incalculable scope. We can only vaguely assess the scope of that tremendous force, if we consider that the energy involved in perceiving and acting in the world of everyday life is a product of the alignment of hardly one-tenth of the emanations encased in man’s cocoon.

 

“What happens at the moment of death is that all that energy is released at once,” he continued. “Living beings at that moment become flooded by the most inconceivable force. It is not the rolling force that has cracked their gaps, because that force never enters inside the cocoon; it only makes it collapse. What floods them is the force of all the emanations that are suddenly aligned after being dormant for a lifetime. There is no outlet for such a giant force except to escape through the gap.”

 

He added that the old sorcerer