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We rescued Bradley from the Downey shelter and took him to a neurologist.
The doctor had only sad news for Bradley...
We agreed he should go to sleep and not suffer this severe hydrocephalus. (as you can see, his head is weirdly shaped due to a lot of fluids in his head / brain).
I didn't want to let him go yet, so from the vet I took Bradley to the beach, I sat with him, played with him, and I fed him many cheeseburgers and fried chicken.
We sat there for two hours, and after that I took him to the vet's office right on the beach, and he went to sleep forever :-(
It was such a sad day... I couldn't stop crying... this little guy was just a baby.
Please visit our website and help us save more animals. All I am asking is for people to buy the book about our rescue work... this will help us pay the medical bills and all the expenses involved in animal rescuing.
You can buy the book here:
http://www.hopeforpaws.org/store/show_product/?product_id=41369834
Please don't put it off for later, and buy the book now so we can save more animals.
Thanks,
Eldad
p.s. people keep asking me: "how come you didn't have the vet put a shunt in his brain like they do for kids?"
The answer is that it was too late... I took Bradley to the neurologist, and she said there is nothing we can do at this point. He was already blind from the pressure in his brain, he was in severe pain... she was talking about having a miserable existence, and it's just not worth it... death is NOT the worst option. Life with pain is.
I love this boy
we took him to the vet today and if you dont know Niko has really soft stool and horrible gas and he has been pooping in the house lately so now they took some tests to see what it could be. Hopefully nothing major but we will find out tomorrow and he is eating a bland diet and he has medicine for his digestive track.
Other than that aint he cute :D
The Cody Local heads through the short Himes Canyon along the Bighorn River. No roads here, hike in only. I first discovered this canyon while on a hi-rail trip shortly after hiring on with the BN at Billings as a dispatcher in 1988. Met my wife there. Don't take much for me to go back to visit my in-laws!
Gilbert Scott-Heron (April 1, 1949 – May 27, 2011) was an American soul and jazz poet, musician, and author, known primarily for his work as a spoken-word performer in the 1970s and 1980s. His collaborative efforts with musician Brian Jackson featured a musical fusion of jazz, blues, and soul, as well as lyrical content concerning social and political issues of the time, delivered in both rapping and melismatic vocal styles by Scott-Heron. His own term for himself was "bluesologist", which he defined as "a scientist who is concerned with the origin of the blues". His poem "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised", delivered over a jazz-soul beat, is considered a major influence on hip hop music.
His music, most notably on the albums Pieces of a Man and Winter in America in the early 1970s, influenced and foreshadowed later African-American music genres such as hip hop and neo soul. His recording work received much critical acclaim, especially for The Revolution Will Not Be Televised. AllMusic's John Bush called him "one of the most important progenitors of rap music", stating that "his aggressive, no-nonsense street poetry inspired a legion of intelligent rappers while his engaging songwriting skills placed him square in the R&B charts later in his career."
Scott-Heron remained active until his death, and in 2010 released his first new album in 16 years, entitled I'm New Here. A memoir he had been working on for years up to the time of his death, The Last Holiday, was published posthumously in January 2012. Scott-Heron received a posthumous Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award in 2012. He also is included in the exhibits at the National Museum of African American History and Culture (NMAAHC) that officially opened on September 24, 2016, on the National Mall, and in an NMAAHC publication, Dream a World Anew. In 2021, Scott-Heron was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, as a recipient of the Early Influence Award.
Gil Scott-Heron was born in Chicago, Illinois. His mother, Bobbie Scott, was an opera singer who performed with the Oratorio Society of New York. His father, Gil Heron, nicknamed "The Black Arrow," was a Jamaican footballer who in the 1950s became the first black man to play for Celtic Football Club in Glasgow, Scotland. Gil's parents separated in his early childhood and he was sent to live with his maternal grandmother, Lillie Scott, in Jackson, Tennessee. When Scott-Heron was 12 years old, his grandmother died and he returned to live with his mother in The Bronx in New York City. He enrolled at DeWitt Clinton High School, but later transferred to The Fieldston School, after impressing the head of the English department with some of his writings and earning a full scholarship. As one of five Black students at the prestigious school, Scott-Heron was faced with alienation and a significant socioeconomic gap. During his admissions interview at Fieldston, an administrator asked him: "'How would you feel if you see one of your classmates go by in a limousine while you're walking up the hill from the subway?' And [he] said, 'Same way as you. Y'all can't afford no limousine. How do you feel?'" This type of intractable boldness would become a hallmark of Scott-Heron's later recordings.
After completing his secondary education, Scott-Heron decided to attend Lincoln University in Pennsylvania because Langston Hughes (his most important literary influence) was an alumnus. It was here that Scott-Heron met Brian Jackson, with whom he formed the band Black & Blues. After about two years at Lincoln, Scott-Heron took a year off to write the novels The Vulture and The Nigger Factory. Scott-Heron was very heavily influenced by the Black Arts Movement (BAM). The Last Poets, a group associated with the Black Arts Movement, performed at Lincoln in 1969 and Abiodun Oyewole of that Harlem group said Scott-Heron asked him after the performance, "Listen, can I start a group like you guys?"[18] Scott-Heron returned to New York City, settling in Chelsea, Manhattan. The Vulture was published by the World Publishing Company in 1970 to positive reviews.
Although Scott-Heron never completed his undergraduate degree, he was admitted to the Writing Seminars at Johns Hopkins University, where he received an M.A. in creative writing in 1972. His master's thesis was titled Circle of Stone. Beginning in 1972, Scott-Heron taught literature and creative writing for several years as a full-time lecturer at University of the District of Columbia (then known as Federal City College) in Washington, D.C. while maintaining his music career.
Scott-Heron began his recording career with the LP Small Talk at 125th and Lenox in 1970. Bob Thiele of Flying Dutchman Records produced the album, and Scott-Heron was accompanied by Eddie Knowles and Charlie Saunders on conga and David Barnes on percussion and vocals. The album's 14 tracks dealt with themes such as the superficiality of television and mass consumerism, the hypocrisy of some would-be black revolutionaries, and white middle-class ignorance of the difficulties faced by inner-city residents. In the liner notes, Scott-Heron acknowledged as influences Richie Havens, John Coltrane, Otis Redding, Jose Feliciano, Billie Holiday, Langston Hughes, Malcolm X, Huey Newton, Nina Simone, and long-time collaborator Brian Jackson.
Scott-Heron's 1971 album Pieces of a Man used more conventional song structures than the loose, spoken-word feel of Small Talk. He was joined by Jackson, Johnny Pate as conductor, Ron Carter on bass and bass guitar, drummer Bernard "Pretty" Purdie, Burt Jones playing electric guitar, and Hubert Laws on flute and saxophone, with Thiele producing again. Scott-Heron's third album, Free Will, was released in 1972. Jackson, Purdie, Laws, Knowles, and Saunders all returned to play on Free Will and were joined by Jerry Jemmott playing bass, David Spinozza on guitar, and Horace Ott (arranger and conductor). Carter later said about Scott-Heron's voice: "He wasn't a great singer, but, with that voice, if he had whispered it would have been dynamic. It was a voice like you would have for Shakespeare."
In 1974, he recorded another collaboration with Brian Jackson, Winter in America, with Bob Adams on drums and Danny Bowens on bass. Winter in America has been regarded by many critics as the two musicians' most artistic effort. The following year, Scott-Heron and Jackson released Midnight Band: The First Minute of a New Day. In 1975, he released the single "Johannesburg", a rallying cry for the end of apartheid in South Africa. The song would be re-issued, in 12"-single form, together with "Waiting for the Axe to Fall" and "B-movie" in 1983.
A live album, It's Your World, followed in 1976 and a recording of spoken poetry, The Mind of Gil Scott-Heron, was released in 1978. Another success followed with the hit single "Angel Dust", which he recorded as a single with producer Malcolm Cecil. "Angel Dust" peaked at No. 15 on the R&B charts in 1978.
In 1979, Scott-Heron played at the No Nukes concerts at Madison Square Garden. The concerts were organized by Musicians United for Safe Energy to protest the use of nuclear energy following the Three Mile Island accident. Scott-Heron's song "We Almost Lost Detroit" was included in the No Nukes album of concert highlights. It alluded to a previous nuclear power plant accident and was also the title of a book by John G. Fuller. Scott-Heron was a frequent critic of President Ronald Reagan and his conservative policies.
Scott-Heron recorded and released four albums during the 1980s: 1980 and Real Eyes (1980), Reflections (1981) and Moving Target (1982). In February 1982, Ron Holloway joined the ensemble to play tenor saxophone. He toured extensively with Scott-Heron and contributed to his next album, Moving Target the same year. His tenor accompaniment is a prominent feature of the songs "Fast Lane" and "Black History/The World". Holloway continued with Scott-Heron until the summer of 1989, when he left to join Dizzy Gillespie. Several years later, Scott-Heron would make cameo appearances on two of Ron Holloway's CDs: Scorcher (1996) and Groove Update (1998), both on the Fantasy/Milestone label.
Scott-Heron was dropped by Arista Records in 1985 and quit recording, though he continued to tour. The same year he helped compose and sang "Let Me See Your I.D." on the Artists United Against Apartheid album Sun City, containing the famous line: "The first time I heard there was trouble in the Middle East, I thought they were talking about Pittsburgh." The song compares racial tensions in the U.S. with those in apartheid-era South Africa, implying that the U.S. was not too far ahead in race relations. In 1993, he signed to TVT Records and released Spirits, an album that included the seminal track "'Message to the Messengers". The first track on the album criticized the rap artists of the day. Scott-Heron is known in many circles as "the Godfather of rap" and is widely considered to be one of the genre's founding fathers. Given the political consciousness that lies at the foundation of his work, he can also be called a founder of political rap. "Message to the Messengers" was a plea for the new generation of rappers to speak for change rather than perpetuate the current social situation, and to be more articulate and artistic. Regarding hip hop music in the 1990s, he said in an interview:
They need to study music. I played in several bands before I began my career as a poet. There's a big difference between putting words over some music, and blending those same words into the music. There's not a lot of humor. They use a lot of slang and colloquialisms, and you don't really see inside the person. Instead, you just get a lot of posturing.
— Gil Scott-Heron
In 2001, Scott-Heron was sentenced to one to three years imprisonment in a New York State prison for possession of cocaine. While out of jail in 2002, he appeared on the Blazing Arrow album by Blackalicious. He was released on parole in 2003, the year BBC TV broadcast the documentary Gil Scott-Heron: The Revolution Will Not Be Televised—Scott-Heron was arrested for possession of a crack pipe during the editing of the film in October 2003 and received a six-month prison sentence.
On July 5, 2006, Scott-Heron was sentenced to two to four years in a New York State prison for violating a plea deal on a drug-possession charge by leaving a drug rehabilitation center. He claimed that he left because the clinic refused to supply him with HIV medication. This story led to the presumption that the artist was HIV positive, subsequently confirmed in a 2008 interview. Originally sentenced to serve until July 13, 2009, he was paroled on May 23, 2007.
After his release, Scott-Heron began performing live again, starting with a show at SOB's restaurant and nightclub in New York on September 13, 2007. On stage, he stated that he and his musicians were working on a new album and that he had resumed writing a book titled The Last Holiday, previously on long-term hiatus, about Stevie Wonder and his successful attempt to have the birthday of Martin Luther King Jr. declared a federally recognized holiday in the United States.
Malik Al Nasir dedicated a collection of poetry to Scott-Heron titled Ordinary Guy that contained a foreword by Jalal Mansur Nuriddin of The Last Poets. Scott-Heron recorded one of the poems in Nasir's book entitled Black & Blue in 2006.
In April 2009, on BBC Radio 4, poet Lemn Sissay presented a half-hour documentary on Gil Scott-Heron entitled Pieces of a Man, having interviewed Gil Scott-Heron in New York a month earlier. Pieces of a Man was the first UK announcement from Scott-Heron of his forthcoming album and return to form. In November 2009, the BBC's Newsnight interviewed Scott-Heron for a feature titled The Legendary Godfather of Rap Returns. In 2009, a new Gil Scott-Heron website, gilscottheron.net, was launched with a new track "Where Did the Night Go" made available as a free download from the site.
In 2010, Scott-Heron was booked to perform in Tel Aviv, Israel, but this attracted criticism from pro-Palestinian activists, who stated: "Your performance in Israel would be the equivalent to having performed in Sun City during South Africa's apartheid era... We hope that you will not play apartheid Israel". Scott-Heron responded by canceling the performance.
Scott-Heron released his album I'm New Here on independent label XL Recordings on February 9, 2010. Produced by XL label owner Richard Russell, I'm New Here was Scott-Heron's first studio album in 16 years. The pair started recording the album in 2007, with the majority of the record being recorded over the 12 months leading up to the release date with engineer Lawson White at Clinton Studios in New York. I'm New Here is 28 minutes long with 15 tracks; however, casual asides and observations collected during recording sessions are included as interludes.
The album attracted critical acclaim, with The Guardian's Jude Rogers declaring it one of the "best of the next decade", while some have called the record "reverent" and "intimate", due to Scott-Heron's half-sung, half-spoken delivery of his poetry. In a music review for public radio network NPR, Will Hermes stated: "Comeback records always worry me, especially when they're made by one of my heroes ... But I was haunted by this record ... He's made a record not without hope but which doesn't come with any easy or comforting answers. In that way, the man is clearly still committed to speaking the truth". Writing for music website Music OMH, Darren Lee provided a more mixed assessment of the album, describing it as rewarding and stunning, but he also states that the album's brevity prevents it "from being an unassailable masterpiece".
Scott-Heron described himself as a mere participant, in a 2010 interview with The New Yorker:
This is Richard's CD. My only knowledge when I got to the studio was how he seemed to have wanted this for a long time. You're in a position to have somebody do something that they really want to do, and it was not something that would hurt me or damage me—why not? All the dreams you show up in are not your own.
The remix version of the album, We're New Here, was released in 2011, featuring production by English musician Jamie xx, who reworked material from the original album. Like the original album, We're New Here received critical acclaim.
In April 2014, XL Recordings announced a third album from the I'm New Here sessions, titled Nothing New. The album consists of stripped-down piano and vocal recordings and was released in conjunction with Record Store Day on April 19, 2014.
Scott-Heron died on the afternoon of May 27, 2011, at St. Luke's Hospital, New York City, after becoming ill upon returning from a trip to Europe. Scott-Heron had confirmed previous press speculation about his health, when he disclosed in a 2008 New York Magazine interview that he had been HIV-positive for several years, and that he had been previously hospitalized for pneumonia.
He was survived by his firstborn daughter, Raquiyah "Nia" Kelly Heron, from his relationship with Pat Kelly; his son Rumal Rackley, from his relationship with Lurma Rackley; daughter Gia Scott-Heron, from his marriage to Brenda Sykes; and daughter Chegianna Newton, who was 13 years old at the time of her father's death. He is also survived by his sister Gayle; brother Denis Heron, who once managed Scott-Heron; his uncle, Roy Heron; and nephew Terrance Kelly, an actor and rapper who performs as Mr. Cheeks, and is a member of Lost Boyz.
Before his death, Scott-Heron had been in talks with Portuguese director Pedro Costa to participate in his film Horse Money as a screenwriter, composer and actor.
In response to Scott-Heron's death, Public Enemy's Chuck D stated "RIP GSH...and we do what we do and how we do because of you" on his Twitter account. His UK publisher, Jamie Byng, called him "one of the most inspiring people I've ever met". On hearing of the death, R&B singer Usher stated: "I just learned of the loss of a very important poet...R.I.P., Gil Scott-Heron. The revolution will be live!!". Richard Russell, who produced Scott-Heron's final studio album, called him a "father figure of sorts to me", while Eminem stated: "He influenced all of hip-hop". Lupe Fiasco wrote a poem about Scott-Heron that was published on his website.
Scott-Heron's memorial service was held at Riverside Church in New York City on June 2, 2011, where Kanye West performed "Lost in the World" and "Who Will Survive in America", two songs from West's album My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. The studio album version of West's "Who Will Survive in America" features a spoken-word excerpt by Scott-Heron. Scott-Heron is buried at Kensico Cemetery in Westchester County in New York.
Scott-Heron was honored posthumously in 2012 by the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences with a Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award. Charlotte Fox, member of the Washington, DC NARAS and president of Genesis Poets Music, nominated Scott-Heron for the award, while the letter of support came from Grammy award winner and Grammy Hall of Fame inductee Bill Withers.
Scott-Heron's memoir, The Last Holiday, was published in January 2012. In her review for the Los Angeles Times, professor of English and journalism Lynell George wrote:
The Last Holiday is as much about his life as it is about context, the theater of late 20th century America — from Jim Crow to the Reagan '80s and from Beale Street to 57th Street. The narrative is not, however, a rise-and-fall retelling of Scott-Heron's life and career. It doesn't connect all the dots. It moves off-the-beat, at its own speed ... This approach to revelation lends the book an episodic quality, like oral storytelling does. It winds around, it repeats itself.
At the time of Scott-Heron's death, a will could not be found to determine the future of his estate. Additionally, Raquiyah Kelly-Heron filed papers in Manhattan, New York's Surrogate's Court in August 2013, claiming that Rumal Rackley was not Scott-Heron's son and should therefore be omitted from matters concerning the musician's estate. According to the Daily News website, Rackley, Kelly-Heron and two other sisters have been seeking a resolution to the issue of the management of Scott-Heron's estate, as Rackley stated in court papers that Scott-Heron prepared him to be the eventual administrator of the estate. Scott-Heron's 1994 album Spirits was dedicated to "my son Rumal and my daughters Nia and Gia", and in court papers Rackley added that Scott-Heron "introduced me [Rackley] from the stage as his son".
In 2011, Rackley filed a suit against sister Gia Scott-Heron and her mother, Scott-Heron's first wife, Brenda Sykes, as he believed they had unfairly attained US$250,000 of Scott-Heron's money. The case was later settled for an undisclosed sum in early 2013; but the relationship between Rackley and Scott-Heron's two adult daughters already had become strained in the months after Gil's death. In her submission to the Surrogate's Court, Kelly-Heron states that a DNA test completed by Rackley in 2011—using DNA from Scott-Heron's brother—revealed that they "do not share a common male lineage", while Rackley has refused to undertake another DNA test since that time. A hearing to address Kelly-Heron's filing was scheduled for late August 2013, but by March 2016 further information on the matter was not publicly available.[69] Rackley still serves as court-appointed administrator for the estate, and donated material to the Smithsonian's new National Museum of African American History and Culture for Scott-Heron to be included among the exhibits and displays when the museum opened in September 2016. In December 2018, the Surrogate Court ruled that Rumal Rackley and his half sisters are all legal heirs.
According to the Daily News website, Kelly-Heron and two other sisters have been seeking a resolution to the issue of the management of Scott-Heron's estate. The case was decided in December 2018 with a ruling issued in May 2019.
Scott-Heron's work has influenced writers, academics and musicians, from indie rockers to rappers. His work during the 1970s influenced and helped engender subsequent African-American music genres, such as hip hop and neo soul. He has been described by music writers as "the godfather of rap" and "the black Bob Dylan".
Chicago Tribune writer Greg Kot comments on Scott-Heron's collaborative work with Jackson:
Together they crafted jazz-influenced soul and funk that brought new depth and political consciousness to '70s music alongside Marvin Gaye and Stevie Wonder. In classic albums such as 'Winter in America' and 'From South Africa to South Carolina,' Scott-Heron took the news of the day and transformed it into social commentary, wicked satire, and proto-rap anthems. He updated his dispatches from the front lines of the inner city on tour, improvising lyrics with an improvisational daring that matched the jazz-soul swirl of the music".
Of Scott-Heron's influence on hip hop, Kot writes that he "presag[ed] hip-hop and infus[ed] soul and jazz with poetry, humor and pointed political commentary". Ben Sisario of The New York Times writes that "He [Scott-Heron] preferred to call himself a "bluesologist", drawing on the traditions of blues, jazz and Harlem renaissance poetics". Tris McCall of The Star-Ledger writes that "The arrangements on Gil Scott-Heron's early recordings were consistent with the conventions of jazz poetry – the movement that sought to bring the spontaneity of live performance to the reading of verse". A music writer later noted that "Scott-Heron's unique proto-rap style influenced a generation of hip-hop artists", while The Washington Post wrote that "Scott-Heron's work presaged not only conscious rap and poetry slams, but also acid jazz, particularly during his rewarding collaboration with composer-keyboardist-flutist Brian Jackson in the mid- and late '70s". The Observer's Sean O'Hagan discussed the significance of Scott-Heron's music with Brian Jackson, stating:
Together throughout the 1970s, Scott-Heron and Jackson made music that reflected the turbulence, uncertainty and increasing pessimism of the times, merging the soul and jazz traditions and drawing on an oral poetry tradition that reached back to the blues and forward to hip-hop. The music sounded by turns angry, defiant and regretful while Scott-Heron's lyrics possessed a satirical edge that set them apart from the militant soul of contemporaries such as Marvin Gaye and Curtis Mayfield.
Will Layman of PopMatters wrote about the significance of Scott-Heron's early musical work:
In the early 1970s, Gil Scott-Heron popped onto the scene as a soul poet with jazz leanings; not just another Bill Withers, but a political voice with a poet's skill. His spoken-voice work had punch and topicality. "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised" and "Johannesburg" were calls to action: Stokely Carmichael if he'd had the groove of Ray Charles. 'The Bottle' was a poignant story of the streets: Richard Wright as sung by a husky-voiced Marvin Gaye. To paraphrase Chuck D, Gil Scott-Heron's music was a kind of CNN for black neighborhoods, prefiguring hip-hop by several years. It grew from the Last Poets, but it also had the funky swing of Horace Silver or Herbie Hancock—or Otis Redding. Pieces of a Man and Winter in America (collaborations with Brian Jackson) were classics beyond category".
Scott-Heron's influence over hip hop is primarily exemplified by his definitive single "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised", sentiments from which have been explored by various rappers, including Aesop Rock, Talib Kweli and Common. In addition to his vocal style, Scott-Heron's indirect contributions to rap music extend to his and co-producer Jackson's compositions, which have been sampled by various hip-hop artists. "We Almost Lost Detroit" was sampled by Brand Nubian member Grand Puba ("Keep On"), Native Tongues duo Black Star ("Brown Skin Lady"), and MF Doom ("Camphor"). Additionally, Scott-Heron's 1980 song "A Legend in His Own Mind" was sampled on Mos Def's "Mr. Nigga", the opening lyrics from his 1978 recording "Angel Dust" were appropriated by rapper RBX on the 1996 song "Blunt Time" by Dr. Dre, and CeCe Peniston's 2000 song "My Boo" samples Scott-Heron's 1974 recording "The Bottle".
In addition to the Scott-Heron excerpt used in "Who Will Survive in America", Kanye West sampled Scott-Heron and Jackson's "Home is Where the Hatred Is" and "We Almost Lost Detroit" for the songs "My Way Home" and "The People", respectively, both of which are collaborative efforts with Common. Scott-Heron, in turn, acknowledged West's contributions, sampling the latter's 2007 single "Flashing Lights" on his final album, 2010's I'm New Here.
Scott-Heron admitted ambivalence regarding his association with rap, remarking in 2010 in an interview for the Daily Swarm: "I don't know if I can take the blame for [rap music]".[81] As New York Times writer Sisario explained, he preferred the moniker of "bluesologist". Referring to reviews of his last album and references to him as the "godfather of rap", Scott-Heron said: "It's something that's aimed at the kids ... I have kids, so I listen to it. But I would not say it's aimed at me. I listen to the jazz station." In 2013, Chattanooga rapper Isaiah Rashad recorded an unofficial mixtape called Pieces of a Kid, which was greatly influenced by Heron's debut album Pieces of a Man.
Following Scott-Heron's funeral in 2011, a tribute from publisher, record company owner, poet, and music producer Malik Al Nasir was published on The Guardian's website, titled "Gil Scott-Heron saved my life".
In the 2018 film First Man, Scott-Heron is a minor character and is played by soul singer Leon Bridges.
He is one of eight significant people shown in mosaic at the 167th Street renovated subway station on the Grand Concourse in the Bronx that reopened in 2019.
12-16-23
"I hɑve ɑ cɾush on γouɾ mind. I fell foɾ γouɾ peɾsonɑlitγ. Youɾ looks ɑɾe just ɑ bonus."
—The Notebook
34. In the Bible it says, “this same Jesus … shall so come in like manner as you have seen him go into heaven.” When the Lord returns, it shall be with Him riding on a white cloud, why would He become flesh? (Gospel Music Videos)
www.holyspiritspeaks.org/how-can-he-be-incarnated-again/
The Answer from God’s Word:
Since Jesus departed, the disciples who followed Him, and all of the saints who were saved thanks to His name, have been desperately pining for Him and awaiting Him. All those who were saved by the grace of Jesus Christ during the Age of Grace have been longing for that joyful day during the last days, when Jesus the Savior arrives on a white cloud and appears among man. Of course, this is also the collective wish of all those who accept the name of Jesus the Savior today. Throughout the universe, all those who know of the salvation of Jesus the Savior have been desperately yearning for the sudden arrival of Jesus Christ, to fulfill the words of Jesus when on earth: “I shall arrive just as I departed.” Man believes that, following the crucifixion and resurrection, Jesus went back to heaven upon a white cloud, and took His place at the Most High’s right hand. Similarly, man conceives that Jesus shall descend, again upon a white cloud (this cloud refers to the cloud that Jesus rode upon when He returned to heaven), among those who have desperately yearned for Him for thousands of years, and that He shall bear the image and clothes of the Jews. After appearing to man, He shall bestow food upon them, and cause living water to gush forth for them, and shall live among man, full of grace and love, living and real. And so on. Yet Jesus the Savior did not do this; He did the opposite of what man conceived. He did not arrive among those who had yearned for His return, and did not appear to all men while riding upon the white cloud. He has already arrived, but man does not know Him, and remains ignorant of His arrival. Man is only aimlessly awaiting Him, unaware that He has already descended upon a white cloud (the cloud which is His Spirit, His words, and His entire disposition and all that He is), and is now among a group of overcomers that He will make during the last days.
from “The Savior Has Already Returned Upon a ‘White Cloud’” in The Word Appears in the Flesh
(....)
… Many people may not care what I say, but I still want to tell every so-called saint who follows Jesus that, when you see Jesus descend from the heaven upon a white cloud with your own eyes, this will be the public appearance of the Sun of righteousness. Perhaps that will be a time of great excitement for you, yet you should know that the time when you witness Jesus descend from the heaven is also the time when you go down to hell to be punished. It will herald the end of God’s management plan, and will be when God rewards the good and punishes the wicked. For the judgment of God will have ended before man sees signs, when there is only the expression of truth. Those who accept the truth and do not seek signs, and thus have been purified, shall have returned before the throne of God and entered the Creator’s embrace. Only those who persist in the belief that “The Jesus who does not ride upon a white cloud is a false Christ” shall be subjected to everlasting punishment, for they only believe in the Jesus who exhibits signs, but do not acknowledge the Jesus who proclaims severe judgment and releases the true way of life. And so it can only be that Jesus deals with them when He openly returns upon a white cloud.
from “When You Behold the Spiritual Body of Jesus Will Be When God Has Made Anew Heaven and Earth” in The Word Appears in the Flesh
(Signs of the End Times | Christian Short Film "The Days of Noah Have Come") (Eastern Lightning)
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A hundred years into the future, Lord Satanus sits upon a twisted metal throne in the ruins of metropolis. His sister rules by his side. The world is fire, pain and blood. The world is theirs. Ten years in the future, Lord Satanus leads a legion of demons through hell; their hissing and screaming and chanting carves a bloody swath through the inferno to behead the Demon lord known as Neron.
Twenty years in the future, Lady Blaze will usurp Lord Satanus’s then-immense power, and leave him for dead, a withered, aching husk. Stripped entirely of his former glory, and cast into the abyssal wastes to fend for himself among the lesser demons.
Today, she is his only hope.
Lord Satanus sits, powerless in his cell. The vibrations on the dampeners boring into his head. He attempts to meditate, to find some kind of inner calm, but fails. A figure sulks towards his glass enclosure.
Blaze: Brotherrrrr . . . I have come.
Satanus: Wicked Sister! You are my salvation! Release me from this bondage, and we shall engulf this prison in flames.
Blaze: Yes, brother. We shall feast, and this pit will become our own!
Blaze conjures a ball of fire and attempts to destroy Satanus’s cell and power dampeners. They refuse to budge, or even char. Somewhere, Niles Caulder smiles.
Blaze: Satan’s breath. Rest easy, brother, I shall free you, yet.
Blaze merges with the barely-tangible shadows of the hallway and floats down the corridors, past all manner of incarcerated, monstrous people. Psycho Pirate sneers as she goes by. Prometheus cowers in the corner of his cell. Other villains, long forgotten by the public, watch with silent eyes as Blaze shifts around the corner.
Christopher Hackett, twenty three, is newly married. His wife Ellen and he expect a baby within the month. Thanks to Blaze, Ellen will be a single mother.
Blaze tears open the shaft of the service elevator at the end of the hall and floats down it, gentle as a leaf despite her armor, gnarled and heavy, and tears the doors open to the basement. She can feel a great surge of power emanating from this room. Her brother has been stripped of this power, she deduces, releasing it will release him.
Ted Manalo is a single father. After tonight, his daughter will go into the custody of his ageing parents. She will learn to grow up far too quickly. Billy Logan is the only sibling left of three, and the only one who cares for the elderly Mrs. Logan. After tonight, she will have no one.
Blaze approaches the box of power. She can smell the fumes of it, feel energy radiating off it. She drinks a little, makes a sound not unlike a purr, then in one swift movement slashes it to ribbon. It explodes in a fireball of sparks, then dies like Christopher, Ted, Billy and Jerald.
Jerald Parker works the nightshift. He’s here filling in for another man. He wasn’t even supposed to be here today. He won’t survive the afternoon. There is no one to mourn him.
On the floors above, An alarm begins to sound. Blaze courses swiftly back to Satanus’s cell, the doors behind her swinging open as she goes.
“Grodd’s Balls, you filthy chain-smoking Layabouts! Get down to detention block S immediately!” shouts Michael Patten to Digger Harkness and Floyd Lawton. He sends a distress signal to Amanda Waller. Waller is in Washington, there’s nothing she can do.
Digger, withdrawing Boomerangs: Another day in paradise eh?
Floyd, still not looking at him: Another day.
Answer: I’m sure it’s not in your vocabulary, but I advise you to be as non-lethal as possible. You both know how the boss likes her toys broken.
Systematically, the doors start swinging open. The guards begin grapping weaponry. Some suit up in light armor, though generally, they know it wont help. They all grab tranquilizers, Emps, sonic rifles and other non-lethal neutralizers. They’ve been through the training, they know the drill.
Dave Rebor, married father of two, will die despite the training.
If the guards had it their way, they would kill their prisoners on-sight in this situation, but that’s not what they’re being paid for. Floyd Lawton is no guard, and Floyd Lawton is not having a good day, mentally. Even before he pulled his mask on, the world was red around him, the walls coated in blood, and a bullet hole placed neatly between the eyes of everyone around him. One freak, smiling toothily, breaks free of his cell and begins to sprint down the hall. Deadshot shoots him through the neck. They’re all dead to him anyways, today, what’s a few more. Captain Boomerang runs ahead, dodging and weaving through the chaos, scoring hits where he can. Deadshot just walks casually, firing through the riot. Wading through the dead.
Prometheus seizes the opportunity and sprints to the monitor room. In a time like this, who’s to stop him from lifting all of Belle Reve’s secrets and making a nice profit off of them.
Ben Smith and Jerry Cawse do not see tomorrow thanks to him.
Prometheus slams open the door to the monitor room, and basks briefly in it’s low, glaring light. Only one man stands in his way.
Answer: Not now, man! Can’t you see there’s a god damn riot on! It’s like the 1960’s all over again and you’re up here, gnashing at me like a wildebeest!
Prometheus, preparing a fight stance: I hope you have your house in order. *He lunges forward.*
Answer, in one swift motion, spins his chair, grasps his cane and ignites a flashbulb within it, blinding Prometheus for a moment. He swings the cane and jabs Prometheus in the stomach, then grabs the back of his helmet and smashes it on the monitor. Prometheus crumples to the floor.
Answer: This is my house, bitch.
Black Orchid, sitting on the far end of the monitor, smiles widely.
Answer: Flower, baby, you should probably get out there and crack some skulls. Maybe bring me back one to gnaw on.
Orchid nods, kisses his forehead, brushes his chin a second, then flies out of the room and into the fray. Randy Miller, John Beckel, and Lance Henry see tomorrow because of her. Another man, Mike Derry, will be saved at the last minute by Bito Wladon, not wanting to seem dishonorable. No one will live or die because of Angelo Bend, sitting patiently in his cell until Wladon comes to speak with him.
Satanus exits his cell, his power grows. He breathes in the screams and carnage.
Satanus: Sister, you have done well. This structure shall soon be ours.
Blaze: Brother, it alrea-
Her sentence is cut short by Orchid’s fist, plowing squarely into her face. Blaze hits the ground hard, and Black Orchid continues to pummel her. Satanus grabs Orchid by the throat, lifts her bodily, and stares.
Satanus: Child. . . I smell . . . The Green on you. *he pulls her closer to his face* Curious.
Black Orchid goes limp, and Satanus tosses her aside bodily.
Satanus: Rise, sister. This is no place to fall.
Blaze smiles, rises, and arm-in-arm, the two begin to stroll casually through the violence.
---------------------
She's fine. She's okay. She's fine . . .
Volume 1 - Origin of Powerhouse: Issue #1
Flicker Fighters
It had been six months since Ben and his Mum had moved to Advent City. It was a big transition in both their lives moving from the Scottish countryside and into the big city. However, with his Mum being CEO of ‘Imagine’ he wasn’t surprised to hear she wanted to manage the company in person. Six months later, and Ben had only made one friend who he really liked, Connie. She was in the same college class as him studying Biomedical Sciences and she was also new to the city. They didn’t really have much in common other than that but, they both had the same personality and enjoyed one another’s company. They could talk about anything and always had a good laugh. Ben contemplated asking her out but he didn’t want to ruin such a good friendship and break the bond that they had, should anything happen. She was a total nerd for mech suits and it just so happened that the new branch opening in ‘Imagine’ was developing some. It was supposed to be kept a secret until their grand unveiling later in the year, but Ben knew Connie wasn’t exactly going to go around telling everyone. Therefore, he arranged to surprise her and set her up for a tour of his Mum’s company. She was more than excited for the day, and Ben struggled not to reveal the surprise. He planned to keep it for the end of the tour and then lead her through the storage facility, where the armoured suits are kept. Ben saw the suits and their designs, half of them were all ready to be showcased. However, his Mum planned to reveal them as a complete set on display once the others had been built. Ben was far too excited to show her the suits, so much so he was going to make her suspect something if he kept smiling like a lunatic.
Ben makes his way through the bustling crowd and is about to check his phone and ask where she is. She was supposed to be outside the main entrance. Although with the way he’s getting bumped about by the city crowd, he figures she got overwhelmed and went inside. She was probably chilling on her phone in a corner, the same thing he’d be doing to avoid the large crowds. He enters the building and there she is, exactly where he thought she’d be. As if she knows he’s watching, she looks up from her phone and smiles waving. They walk towards one another as she slips her phone back into her pocket.
Ben: “You ready for the best tour of your life?”
Connie: “Yeah, I got my camera ready like Peter Parker.”
Ben: “Well I can assure you there’s no radioactive spiders here. I asked my Mum to get some, but apparently it’s a ‘safety hazard’.”
The two shares a laugh and Ben begins to lead her through the tourist exhibits based on all of the new technology. Ben had heard about most of it when talking business with his Mum. Some of the projects were just frivolous crazy things for rich people with far too much money to purchase. Such as nanotechnology paint that allows you to decorate your room with micro robots. They can be remotely controlled to change colour, pattern, and even display images from the internet. Which meant you could paint a wall with these devices and have something different everyday. Then there were more useful pieces of technology for medicinal purposes. The kind of technology which would allow the replication of synthetic tissue and allow it to be ‘filled’ with a false but functional nervous system. It sounded like something from a Sci-Fi show. But that’s why the company was called, Imagine, they create technology that could only have been plucked from wildest of imaginations. Connie was overjoyed as Ben showed her some of the exhibits and the more excited she got the more he felt himself hurrying to show her the grand finale - the mech suits in storage.
Ben: “Come on, I got something cool to show you in the back. My Mum said as long as you keep it a secret and don’t take any pictures it’s okay.”
Connie: “Ooh, something top secret?”
Ben: “For the next year or so, yeah. Now come on, you’re going to love it.”
Ben leads her away from a bustling exhibit, he had to stop himself from pulling her to hurry. He knew she was going to love seeing these suits, she loved that sort of thing. She was a nerd just like him when it came to this stuff. As they are making their way through the crowd Ben turns, beaming a smile. However, someone in the building screams from just down the corridor. The overlapping conversation of the crowds around them fall silent. The scream echoes up the corridor, soon followed by other terrified shrieks. A large crashing sound causes a tremor to quake throughout the exhibit. People begin to murmur amongst themselves and others start to make their way to the exits.
Connie: “What the hell was that?”
Ben: “Um, I’m not sure. We should probably-“
An automated female voice blares from the speakers in the roof, “Emergency! Emergency! Everyone please evacuate the building in a calm and orderly fashion.”
Everyone begins pushing and shoving as they stampede towards the exits. Connie gets shoved to the ground by a larger man who doesn’t bother to look her way as she cries out. Ben yells in protest and struggles to make his way through the sea of panicked people to get to her. He loses sight of her as she’s engulfed by the mob. He knew she was on the floor, probably getting trampled on by all these people. They were scared but so was she, she was probably hurt as well. It was like the videos he had witnessed on Youtube of people going nuts over deals on Black Friday. Doing anything they can to be the first ones in the door - or in this case, out of the door. Eventually, the numbers of the crowd thin out and he sees Connie curled up in a ball on the floor, in a foetal position. Ben rushes towards her as the automated voice continues to repeat the order to evacuate. He kneels beside her and places his hand on her shoulder, she is trembling.
Ben: “Connie, we gotta get out of here.”
She doesn’t say anything and uncurls herself hesitantly. Ben’s heart sinks as he sees boot imprints on her hands and broken finger nails from being trampled on. Her cheek is red and swollen and her lip is busted in the centre. He forces a reassuring smile and lifts her to her feet pulling her towards the exit. Only to feel the building shudder with another tremor. Debris leaks from the ceiling and Ben looks up seeing a crack tear it’s way through the ceiling. His eyes widen and he continues to haul Connie to the exit. The building shakes one last time and the fracture in the ceiling pries apart. Chunks of rubble and debris rain down in front of him crashing against the ground, just inches away from them and blocking the exit. Ben begins to panic but remembers the emergency exit down the corridor. He turns and holds up Connie as she stumbles alongside him. As they make their way down to the corridor he hears something. At first he thinks it’s another tremor but no, it’s more structured with its sound - coordinated. They were footsteps. Loud, thundering footsteps from just one set of feet. Whoever it was, they were big or wearing steel boots and they were heading right for them.
Ben: “Something tells me that isn’t someone coming to help.”
November 21st, 2042
A couple of hours after getting taken away by the Court of Owls, Batman awakens in a cell at an unknown location. Before he’s able to recover from the effects of the sedatives he got hit with and regain his strength two people dressed in black clothes, wielding sharp and gold-colored weapons, enter his cell and order him to follow them. As he struggles to stand up he notices that the exoskeleton from his suit has powered down, making it much more difficult to move around at all and leaving him in no shape to stand up against them. He complies and follows the one figure as the other one takes position behind him. After walking for a short while they end up in a long hallway, with a red carpet on the floor, expensive furniture on either side of the hall and large paintings hanging from the walls. Batman takes a look at the wall decorations and notices that every single painting features a person holding a strange owl-shaped mask in front of their face. There’s a door at the end of the hallway, guarded by two people wearing the same outfit as the ones escorting him. They open the door for them, giving way to a spacious and empty courtroom. Behind the judge’s desk stands a giant wooden statue of an owl, decorated with gold accents and lit with candles around it. On the sides of the room are several giant windows, all covered with dark red curtains which prevents any natural light from entering the place. Only Helena is sitting in the room, tied to a chair at the defendant’s table.
Batman gets escorted into the room and forced to sit on the chair next to Helena as he gets restrained as well. Before he can ask his daughter if she’s okay, the gates of the courtroom swing open as a group of masked individuals march into the room. They all silently take a seat on the public benches behind the two right as the jury enters the room as well, conveniently all wearing the same owl-shaped mask too. As they all sit down at the exact same time Helena begins nervously looking around her, intimidated by the situation she is now in. A door inside the giant owl statue opens, out of which a judge appears. Batman notices the judge seems to be the same person who appeared in the Wayne Tower and ordered them to come to the Court in the first place. He takes a seat, breaks the silence by slamming his hammer on the table and demands order in the courtroom, starting their trial against Batman and Robin.
The judge starts by telling about the Court of Owls, explaining how they have been around since Gotham was established decades ago. For years they managed to rule the city from the shadows, killing anyone who found out about their existence or opposed them using a group of specifically trained assassins called the Talons. When a certain masked vigilante began running around Gotham they didn’t see him as a threat at first. Finding that having him assassinated by the Talons would be a bit excessive they instead opted to orchestrate a series of events which would lead to a deranged serial killer by the name of Zsaz escaping from Arkham. Knowing that the Batman would take it upon himself to go after him, they hoped that he wouldn’t stand a chance against the killer and get killed while fighting him. However, they found themselves astonished as Batman managed to defeat Zsaz with ease, something they had not taken into consideration. Realizing the danger of him running around Gotham they considered ordering the Talons to murder him, but changed their mind after he coincidentally started targeting several of their opponents. The Court then decided to willingly let Batman fight the criminal world of Gotham without interfering, only stepping in if he accidentally stumbled upon them or started targeting them. All the while, the Court continued to influence the city from the shadows.
Roughly 5 years later, a long series of unfortunate events led to the Dark Knight retiring. With the Batman no longer being a possible threat to the Court, they decided to start spreading out their influence more while making certain their existence was kept a secret. Over the decades, dozens of wannabe vigilantes hoping to step into the footsteps of the Dark Knight started to make their way onto the streets. As rumors of a secret underground society who are secretly controlling Gotham started leaking, many of them started to seek them out and found their way right on the doorstep of the Court. In order to preserve their secret they were forced to murder everyone who stood in their way, having to cover up the assassinations to not arouse any suspicions. After decades of doing this the Court of Owls decided they could not continue covering up the disappearances of teen vigilantes, deciding to take action by making a statement by taking down the Dark Knight. Upon discovering his identity and tracking him down using the help of a deranged Edward Nigma and a frail Hugo Strange, they began orchestrating a long plot in order to get him to put on the suit again. One of the Talons assassinated Selina and left behind evidence to make him suspect the Joker, knowing this would motivate him to return to Gotham to investigate. By using a tiny improvised explosive device hidden within the playing card they hoped to detonate it while he was holding it within Arkham. However, they did not account for Batman giving the card to Joker himself, which allowed him to survive the blast and only killed the Clown Prince of Crime along with the other Arkman inmates. After so many years, they decided enough was enough; it was time to put him on trial in front of the Court of Owls for standing in their way too much.
Batman barely has any time to process what he just heard as the crowd and jury start shouting how they think they are guilty. There’s no way they would win a case against a kangaroo court like this; their decision was already made way before the trial started. The judge slams his hammer down again, silencing the chaos as he prepares to read his verdict. Due to being found guilty of interfering with the plans of the Court of Owls, Batman and Robin get sentenced to death at the hands of the Talons right now. The judge asks if he has anything to say about his verdict, but cuts him off right as he is about to speak up. The spectators and jury start cheering and clapping as two of the Talons walk into the courtroom, each entering on opposite sides of the room. They take their positions in front and behind the two, unsheathing their golden weapons to prepare for battle. One member of the Court gets ordered to untie the Dynamic Duo in order to make the odds more fair as the rest of the crowd prepares to watch as the Batman finally gets taken down by the Court of Owls after so many years.
The Talon behind Batman strikes first and stabs him in the back, but his armor prevents the blade from piercing through his skin. He manages to reactivate his exosuit and turns around, ready to fight again as he pulls out a Batarang from his belt. His enemy strikes again, aiming for the exposed skin around his mouth instead, but Batman manages to deflect it with his own weapon. He uses the opportunity to slice the Talon in the arm, although this doesn’t phase him. Batman holds his hand in front of his face and casts a glance at the spectators, seeing they are all silently toasting for their demise with expensive drinks in their hands. His short distraction gives the Talon an opportunity to successfully hit him, but Helena deflects the attack at the last moment with her own weapon stick. He compliments her for being able to stand her ground against their opponents before continuing the battle. The Talon starts attacking more and more fiercely, slowly managing to weaken Batman’s defenses while coming closer to getting a successful strike on him. He tries his best to keep up with him, but Batman slowly starts to become weaker and weaker with every attack. Right as he is about to slash the Dark Knight in the face, the leader of the Court suddenly commands the assassins to stop attacking. Unsure of what to do, the Talons lay down their weapons for a moment as they watch what their leader’s intentions are right now. He mutters something about hearing a weird noise outside as he walks towards the window and lifts up the curtains. Batman tries to get a glimpse of the outside world to locate their hideout if they manage to get out, but he soon picks up the sound outside too; he hears the loud revving of an engine in the distance slowly coming towards them, accompanied by the sound of a car horn. The crowd gathers around the window to see what the commotion is about, but quickly runs away in terror as the Batmobile crashes through the wall at full speed.
Pieces of debris rain down everywhere as the vehicle comes to a screeching halt right in front of Batman and Robin. Chaos ensues in the room as each member of the Court desperately tries to make their escape, terrified of the imposing black vehicle which just crashed through the wall of their hideout. The door opens as the person driving the Batmobile beeps the horn, prompting them to jump inside. Batman kicks the Talon in front of him to the ground and hits the other one in the chest with several batarangs to give them a window to escape. He and Helena jump inside the Batmobile as he takes control of the steering wheel, closing the door right before the Talons can make their way inside. He puts his boot on the gas pedal and activates the rocket booster in order to make their escape from the Court. As they are driving through the streets of Gotham early in the morning, Barbara appears on one of the screens of the console, asking if they are alright. She explains that she left the Wayne Enterprises building for a short moment to check up on her case at the GCPD, but when she returned she saw the camera footage of them getting abducted. Although it was impossible for her to track them down at first since the Court of Owls covered up almost all of their tracks, Batman reactivating his high-tech suit set off a GPS signal which allowed her to pinpoint their location. With the help of a new modification to the Batmobile she was able to remotely control the armored vehicle for a while to reach the place and to help them escape.
Helena sighs of relief, tired of the confrontation they just went through when she says that they must’ve escaped the Court by now. However, right after she says this the two feel something landing on the roof of the Batmobile. Before they can react, one of the Talon’s golden weapons cuts through the armored material like butter, making an opening for himself to enter the vehicle. Batman stands up from his seat and orders Helena to drive despite her not having any driving experience yet as he deals with the Talon standing in the cramped open space in the back of the Batmobile. He makes his way towards him, feeling the cold morning air cut through his skin while he begins punching his enemy. After hitting him a couple of times the Talon catches his fist inside his hand, landing a couple of strikes on his face and damaging his cowl before Batman kicks him right in the stomach. The impact of the kick makes him land hard on the cold floor of the Batmobile, but before he can recover Batman leaps on top of him and starts pounding him in the head. He stops for a short moment to charge up his exosuit for a bigger punch, but the vehicle suddenly making a sharp turn to get outside of Gotham, makes him miss the Talon and denting the floor instead. While he recovers and tries to get another punch in, the other Talon lands on the front of the car and begins damaging the engine. Helena makes a couple more sharp turns in an effort to get him off the car but all it does is make Batman lose his balance, giving him a disadvantage in the fight. As smoke begins coming from the engine Helena loses control of the vehicle, prompting Batman to abandon the fight to prevent them from going off the road. However, he is too late; before he can do anything, the Batmobile crashes through the guardrail on the ride of the road, sending them all tumbling down a hill.
When Helena regains consciousness, she feels herself getting dragged out of the wreckage which was once the Batmobile. Pieces of wreckage are scattered everywhere as the smell of smoke fills her nose. Once she is at a safe distance away from the wreck, she is able to properly see the damage; the Batmobile is laying upside down with a fire having erupted in the engine as several important components of the car have been damaged or broken off. Suddenly, she notices one of the Talons crawling away from the wreck. His outfit has been torn and burned, with him being unable to walk because of the crash. Batman sees him too, and begins slowly walking towards him. The Talon notices this and for the first time he hears one of them speak as he begins pleading for him to put him out of his misery. Batman stays silent for a while before telling him to go back to the Court. He wants him to relay a message to them, warning that it will take much more than this to take down Batman. They tried their best to get rid of him, and they failed. If they try this again, he won't be taken by surprise like this time and warns that he will do whatever it takes to take down the entire Court by himself. The Talon begins crying out that the Court of Owls will just murder him for this fiasco, but Batman ignores him and turns around leaving him on his own. He calls Barbara to pick them up as he puts an arm around Helena, complimenting her for what she did today as the Batmobile continues to burn down behind them.
Roughly a week has passed since the incident with the Court. Despite Bruce and Barbara’s best efforts, they haven't managed to track down the Court again; upon returning to the place where he was taken to to be put on trial, he only found an empty and abandoned building with all of the furniture and decorations taken away. Barbara has taken the wreckage of the Batmobile back to the Wayne Enterprises building, developing plans to rework the vehicle into something else instead of simply rebuilding it.
During a boring evening at the Wayne Building, the regularly scheduled tv programme gets interrupted by a newsflash; A terrorist going by the name of Bane, suspected to be the person responsible for getting a majority of Gotham addicted to Venom, has attacked the Gotham Stock Exchang. In a publicly broadcasted video he revealed to have gotten his hands on a decaying neutron bomb which is set to detonate this Christmas Eve. In his video he directly challenged the Dark Knight, saying that he is only willing to stop the bomb from exploding if he manages to defeat him. Confident that he can save Gotham once more, Bruce suits up and sets out to bring down Bane. Helena offers to join to help take him down, but Batman declines as he fears not going to him alone could have severe consequences. Without being able to use the Batmobile to get around for the time being, he climbs to the top of the building and decides to make use out of his new experimental cape glider. He leaps off the structure as he spreads out his cape, which folds out in the shape of the wings of a bat allowing him to glide to the financial district.
After gliding for a while, Batman lands on top of the glass roof of the Stock Exchange building giving him a good look at the situation. Right below him he can make out the figure of Bane, surrounded by several of his goons, all guarding the neutron bomb. He uses a Batarang to cut a hole into the glass to grant him access into the building. After jumping down the hole he lands right in front of Bane, quickly alerting him of his presence. This is the first time he has gotten a good look at the terrorist; before him stands a very big and muscular man, wearing a black luchador-esque mask which conceals his face. Batman catches a glimpse of a big tank filled with Venom on his back with tubes attached to it, all injected straight into his skin and mask. His goons, all having taken some of the strength-enhancing drugs as well, point their guns at the Dark Knight but Bane tells them to lower their weapons. After telling them to step back he stretches out his arms, challenging the Dark Knight to a one-on-one fight. Batman agrees, taking off his utility belt and preparing for the fight. He laughs, his voice muffled by the mask, asking himself if he will be a match to him or if he will go down as easily as his other opponents as Batman charges towards him.
Batman strikes first, getting in several powerful blows, but it doesn’t even seem to phase his opponent. He pauses for a short moment and tries to continue the fight, but Bane catches his hand before it can hit him. Batman hears something crack when he clenches his fist, feeling that his glove has been damaged. Before he can recover, Bane grabs him with both arms and headbutts him with a lot of force. The blow almost makes him lose his balance, but his opponent grabs him by the throat before he falls to the ground and punches him right in the face several times. Batman starts to taste blood in his mouth but is unwilling to give up so easily. He releases himself from Bane’s grip and tackles him to the ground, using all his strength to kick him in the face several times. Again, his opponent is unperturbed by his attempts to fight back, simply taking the blows without flinching. As Bane doesn't fight back Batman becomes overconfident for a moment, not noticing as his arm reaches out for his leg. He grabs a hold of it and janks it towards him, making him fall to the ground again.
‘’You know, I used to admire you. Hearing all about your heroics back when I was growing up motivated me to be better than I already was. But now that I am not a bright-eyed and naive child anymore, I’m finally able to see you for what you really are; A pathetic elderly man, having to rely on some high-tech suit to even attempt to compete with me!’’
Bane raises his fists in the air, bringing them down with full force on the chest of the Dark Knight. Although his suit absorbs most of the strike to prevent his ribs from breaking upon impact, Batman still feels the pain from his attack and notices the armor on his chest having shattered.
‘’Over the years, I've dreamt of being the one who would kill the legendary Batman. However, I have recently come to the conclusion that killing you would only end your agony and silence your shame.’’
He attempts to fight back again and gathers his strength to reply to his opponent’s comments, but Bane silences him with a nasty kick in the gut before he can do so.
‘’I don't think you quite know who I am. I’m not some scarecrow or a riddler. I’m not a jester or a clown! I’m not a flightless bird nor a cryogenic scientist! And most importantly, i am not some rich guy playing dress-up!’’
Bane begins continuously stomping Batman in the face, slowly cracking open his mask more and more with each kick. By the time his cowl has been completely destroyed Batman has been knocked unconscious, having collapsed after all of the attacks.
‘’ I AM BANE! AND I WILL BREAK YOU!’’
As his goons cheer him on, Bane picks up the defeated body of the Dark Knight and raises it over his head. He slowly spins around like he’s showing a trophy to his friends, reveling as the realization that he has become the one to truly break the Bat begins to set in. Batman regains consciousness, but only just in time to feel himself getting driven down towards the ground as he collides with Bane’s knee.
With one nasty snap, he quickly finds his body in anguish as his spine has completely shattered. Bane drops him to the ground and commands his henchmen to take the bombs and go away, taking the broken mask of the Dark Knight with him as a trophy before leaving himself as well. Batman tries to move, but becomes terrified when he notices that he is unable to even move. With this one attack, Bane has paralyzed the Bat.
Quite some time passes before someone arrives to pick up the wounded Bruce. He gets taken to the Wayne Building instead of a hospital in order to preserve his secret identity, where he gets hooked up to some medical equipment to keep him alive. As the days pass by, Gotham begins to decay more and more into chaos as the threat of a neutron bomb decimating the city gets closer. Each attempt made by the police force to disarm the explosive has led to nothing, leading to many of the city’s residents deciding to get out while they still can. Despite Bruce being in no state at all to fight back against Bane, he stubbornly refuses to leave the city as he believes his back will he recovered enough before the bomb is set to go off. Along with this he also feels personally responsible for letting this happen and does not want Gotham to fall under his watch.
Less than a week is now left before the bomb is set to go off. Bane had taken his bomb to the city centre, where his henchmen are guarding him all day to prevent anyone from interfering with his plan. With no sign of his spine recovering in the slightest, Helena and Barbara are urging Bruce to leave the city with them, as they know nobody else is left to stop him. Barbara is close to converting the damaged Batmobile to an airborne vehicle and tells him it could be fit to get them out of there. However, he does not want to hear any of it and keeps insisting that he can find a solution. In an old scientific report about the Venom drug he read some time ago, he noticed it stating that taking the drug can completely heal severe wounds within moments. With his mind set on this new opportunity to save Gotham he asks Barbara to get him a sample of the substance, hoping this will put him in a position to fight back again. Despite her hesitation she agrees to do so, although she warns him that this is only a short-term solution for a permanent problem for him.
When she returns, Bruce has removed the armor from his arms and prepared a new suit to help him control himself while under the effects of the drug. Barbara reluctantly hands him a syringe filled with Venom, but before she does so she tells him that the scientific reports he read left out some important details. It's true that taking Venom can heal severe and permanent injuries in a matter of moments, but the catch is that once the drug’s effects have worn off the injuries will just return, sometimes getting even worse as a result. Bruce tells her he is more than willing to sacrifice himself if it means that he is gonna be able to save Gotham once more as he grabs the syringe out of her hand. Before any of them can react, he slams the needle into his skin and presses the plunger down allowing the substance to enter into his bloodstream. Bruce feels the effects hitting him almost instantly, and before he knows it he finds himself able to stand on his own again. While he struggles to keep himself from succumbing to the drug’s effects he puts on a new suit; an outfit plated with a gold-colored metal and with a reinforced cowl and cape. Ready for battle, he makes his way to the newly designed Batwing to take himself to the city center to face off against Bane.
----------------------
I need you more than words can say
You save me in ways that I can't explain
Always been there for me, now I'll do the same
I need you more than words can say
Hugger Mugger
Apologies in advance to anyone who peruses this and comes away with thinking that it reads like the plot of yet another badly directed flick. Real life can appear to be played out that way in the sometimes!
That bit being said...
Unescapable Boredom has always been a trigger for some of my most peevish muses, and sometimes that has landed me in quite hot water !
And whilst dwelling in my Unescapable boredom on this particular evening….
I had noticed the youth, a typical 13 year old male, with typical, shall we say yearnings, scampering happily about at the reception hall which was our lot to be in on that late night.
And this particular lad’s activities were quite interesting from my admittedly cynical standing point of observation...
But first, please allow me to explain one’s self and reason for being in that posh venu .
I was one of several fellow professors at the university whom had been invited to the son of a female colleague’s nuptials ( in other wards, no close relationship to the groom, whom I only had bloody met, once... can anyone say free gift for the gits?!).
He was marrying a rather affluent young Lass he had hitched up with from Wrexham way, and it was in that city, several hours away, that the couple decided to tie the knot, dragging his family, and us I might add, all along with him to travel there.
Now Wrexham is a nice enough place to visit, but preferring not to waste the whole weekend away from the stone cottage ,its quiet gardens, me pipe, and a snifter of fine old brandy, I had only booked in for an overnighter...
So it twas, that on an early, misting Saturday Morn, our entourage left for the long trog to make it in time for the noon wedding.
We arrived in the city of Wrexham with twenty minutes to spare, and began our pleasant wind along the old Girl’s nostalgic neighborhoods.
There are quite a few fine old churches in Wrexham, and the one where the nuptual ceremonies was to be held was, in my personal opinion, the finest.
The wedding was upscale smashing, starting with the rather gothic Blackstone church decorated like it was a set up for some fancy magazine photo shoot for an even more posh magazine.
The bride, once she made her appearance, continued on with the opulence, wearing a high priced designers rhinestone decked, white satin number, while the girls in her bridal wore matching rhinestoned inlayed gowns by the same designer, all formed fit in flowy blood red satin, ‘cept the maid of honour, a stunning red head whose matching gown was of a bewitching midnight black! The groomsmen wore jet black tuxes, the groom wore a white tux and tails, looking like Fred Astaire complete with top hat and cane( but sans rhinestones ) … and indeed there was a bit of a movie like ambiance hanging over the whole affaire!
The reception venue was held at a fancy hall that had been repurposed from an old eel tinning factory. A most interesting venue, with no taint of its former occupant. And with all its most opulent trappings, looked like a stark continuation of the posh photo shoot from the church , set up in an alleyway like ambiance!
So I guess the affair overall was a nice enough bit of eye candy for those of us “privileged” enough to be invited. I must add, I personally did not feel privileged, but judging by the openly blurted remarks of a gaggling trio of someone’s elderly maiden aunties( not mine thank Lord) we all were supposed to feel that way for being there!
Privileged was not a verb I was going to choose!
Especially seeing that only 4 of us from the group invited from the university made the trip ( the others successfully coming up with valid excuses, the lucky prigs!) I was feeling more of being on an isolated island in the stream of gaily dressed guests!
So outside us four, and the bride’s parents, we were complete strangers to everyone else. Including the son of my colleague, the groom, whom I had only met once on a golf outing some few years back. And pretty much the four of us found ourselves alone and ignored… !!
Then as the evening wore on, there was no pretty much about it,being stranded alone I dare say!
For I found myself completely alone! Due to two of our group taking early leave ( The devils decided not to spend the night) and the fourth had taken up with a young man she had met ( I would say cougar if I was not a proper gentleman and actually rather fond of the lass meself!) ….
So I was sitting there, at an empty table, and soon the boredom began it’s subtle creeping..
I had not been guiling enough to plan a quick excuse to exit, nor so lucky to find someone dance with , so I made my way off the island and waded over to the bar and took up a solitary vigil on a padded stool. The watered down drinks were free, so after about 5 old fashions I was feeling pretty good actually, but even though I was enjoying meself in that aspect, I was still a wee bit bored, and therefore started peevishly musing…
And it was during my boredom tinged thoughts when I again caught sight of the lad…
I of course had seen him earlier when we first arrived and was busy getting drinks for my group from the bar. His mother was the satin gowned maid of honour to her bride sister, and he had been latched onto her at the waist of her midnight black bridesmaid’s attire , hanging on joyfully as she was in conversation with the best man.
I soon found out that the lad’s Maid of Honour mother was single. But though very pretty, she was no older than some of my students !
But at that time my attention was pulled away anyways’ by a plate of Hors d'oeuvre’s being passed around and as I ate and mingled with my colleagues, I continued to watch the lad and his antics from the corner of my eye.
Then dinner was announced, and as We made way to our seating, the lad totally escaped my mind… till now..
And now, here I was, observing the lad’s promiscuous antics again
Taking sips of my current old fashion, I had been watching with mesmerized interest, the Bride’s Mother. She was a rather attractive lady, young for her age, who was wearing a rather fetching gown of sleek blue ruffling satin that flowed jauntily along her figure, swishing and swaying in a most delightful manner.
She was wearing a rather pricey ensemble of fine jewelery, including a short gold herringbone necklace set with a large fiery diamond at its’ centre, flanked by four glittery smaller stones. I found the whole package enticing enough that I was pondering over the dos or don’ts of asking for a dance...for she appeared not to be attached to any male courtesan.
It was as I was watching that I again saw the thirteen year old lad, sneaking up from behind a table and hug his grandmother, who leaned down to reciprocate...( the lady was petitely short, so she didn’t have far to bend) the diamonds in her swaying necklace rippling with pinpricks of expensive fire!
So he was still at it I thought…
Now, when I had seen him darting about earlier, while hor d'oeuvres were being served after finally being shaken loose by his mother, he had preformed this hugging antic on his and his grandmother several times, and once each on his Bride Aunt and Maid of Honour Mother!
Now this lad was also obviously across the threshold of young puberty: as was witnessed by his actions, in the way he was sneaking up and giving those graspy hugs of his, the fingers digging into the shiny satiny gown of his targeted female.
They all though it cute enough, especially the gullible Grandmother, who thought it was “precious” and just laughed, and squealed happily, “look another drive by hugging”, or “thanks for the hug honey, it was needed”, encouraging to no end the youth to keep his voyeuristic advances up, for he attempted this several more times as I stood watching from the sidelines … Though his Grandmother was the only female not to fend off repeated attempts!
But, and damn me own eyes, I had noticed that far more was going on than just a bit of runaway hugging !! The little miscreant was also Copping a feel!
The Lads arms, as he hugged his grandmother’s warm figure before running off, were noticeably brushing just under her perk breasts, molded nicely by the tight fitted ‘mother of the bride” gown she was attired in.
I also knew that , along with copping a feel, he was had also enjoying the tingling sensation from the slick satin material of the long, swishing gown the rather youngish ,stylish grandmother was wearing…
Perhaps I was jealous ?
It was as I watched him repeat this performance again and again , that my mind was taken off asking anyone to dance, and my attention started to follow the lad to see what he was all on about, to confirm my hypothesis if you will.
I soon saw that he was now turning his attentions upon a different source for his promiscuous behavior.
The youngest of the bridesmaids by far was the 15 year old sister of the bride. A rather immature teenager at that. Looking like some Disney princess in her red satin gown and rhinestone necklace and earrings that matched that of the rest of her fellow, though much older, lady bridesmaids. But she certainly was not acting like a proper princess as she now whisked about playing at cops and robbers with my 13 year old mischievous lad.
Said Lad, whose fingers were doing more touching than just tagging the fancy dress of his fetchingly attired playmate.
So, ordering yet a another old fashion( my seventh for those keeping tabs), I watched the pair, Not really being a voyeur in my defense, for my professional interest does lay in the realm of the study of human nature, though as a criminologist this was a thin argument at best for applying it to the situation today..
Soon the girl was pulled away to join the bridal party whom had started swishing about on the dance floor, and the lad, looking glumly on, and with all his “victims” out of reach on said dance floor, eventually headed off, and the direction he took was going to lead him straight past me I perkily noticed
I looked up over the top of his head to the dance floor, rather envious that I was not able to participate!
I spied the young 15 year old bridesmaid dancing, she seemed to be enjoying herself. I also caught site of her necklace as it was caught up in the lights, it glittered , sparkling madly in the dim lights, as were the rhinestones on her dress. I looked around, all the bridesmaids opulent rhinestones were sparkling. The Grandmother was also sparkling about on the floor, dancing with some spiff in a tailored suit!
Despite of my misery at being there, I felt something stirring up inside of me.
Not surprisingly ( to me) a rather mischievous thought came into my head propelled by a combination of the resplendent bridesmaids dancing on the floor, the attractive glittering of rhinestones, the approaching lad, and the fact that I was really quite blasé about the whole affair ,being stuck there and all! Of course, I was probably a wee bit more drunk than sober by that period in time...
My thought was in the direction of doing a quick, possibly amusing study, on channeling this approaching Lads spirited passions by broadening his horizons! In simple terms, Tune the lad in on expanding his conquests through an adults apparent permission, then turn him loose to give “drive by hugging’s” amongst the flock of dressed up bridesmaids may be most amusing... Like an amorous puppy scurrying in amongst a group of shiny feathered clucking chickens!
So while I eyed the approaching lad, I nonchalantly put my hand into a jacket pocket fumbling for a selection of ever present coins.
Now my Grandfather had been a magician of sorts, and I had been weaned on watching his slight of hand tricks with coins. As a young man I had leaned a few of them meself, ( as a way to meet the fairer sex of course) as well as a slew of card tricks, and always had a few props with me.
So as the lad sauntered by me, I caught his attention by dropping a penny. He obligingly retrieved it for me, and as he handed it back, I turned down my wrist, then took my hand to his ear appearing to change the penny into a twenty pee piece… Which I handed the coin to the amazed lad for keeps. Thereby also gaining his full and undivided attention.
“Want to see another?” I asked, and he shook his head eagerly. I pulled out a deck of cards, and had him ruffle them up a bit. Talking it up him as I did.
The simple card trick would allow me to banter and stoke the id of his sexually driven impulses whilst the ego thoughts in the lad’s head where following the cards. With my intents to stocking up the super.
The first trick was an easy one that had him picking his own card from a group laid out on the bar. It was as I went through the motions, and watching his focus on the cards, I mentioned his Grandmother asking if he thought she looked pretty. I knew I was firing up the lad, and after I set him loose, planned on watching him take off like an exploding rocket to give her another hug before he started branching out.
I than showed him a second trick. Talking about hugging and how all girls liked to received them...like his grandmother,……. like the girls in the red gowns I added after a dramatic pause for effect. I saw his eyes quickly dart over to the dance floor, than quickly back at the cards as I finished up my trick
By then the bridal party , blissfully unawares that they were being primed for a series of hugs, was leaving the floor and I saw that the young brides maid was standing off to the side watching the departing dancers…..
And that gave my inspiration a new course totally...
I knew I lit a fire in the back of his mind about dancing, hugging, and such! So I went a step further, mentioning how wonderful it was dancing, almost like a long continuous hug. I could tell by the way he stiffened that my words were quite well received by this promiscuous lad.
He quite obviously was “rising” to the bait, and appeared more than eager to listen to me. I turned him around and pointed out the young brides maid, suggesting he should dance with the lass…
Like a puppet on my string , he obediently went off and I watched as he approached the lass, and talking to her, she took control and led him off to the dance floor.
The pair did make a cute couple and it was rather entertaining to watch the two of them acting like young adults. She was by far more graceful at it, but in her partners boyish fumbling’s, I noticed a rather strategic placing of his hands and chest that could not have been mere accidental. At one point she reached around and moved his latched hand from around her waist to a less compressing spot on her upper back.
All in all it was a quite satisfying observation of young hormones in action, and I was quite satisfied thus far with the results of my “experiment” when the dance ended. I fully expected him to toddle off to find his Grandmother, or Mother to do a bit of “Drive by Hugging” and having quite enough of that to fill my day, rose to bid my adieu and congratulations to the happy couple before heading out into the wilderness outside to find a friendly pub.
So I was both rather shocked, and a little bemused, when as the dance ended the lad came back towards me, dragging along his pretty partner like some panting puppy with a bone. ( and yes, there was a very good reason for thinking up that analogy, but please get your mind from that gutter)!
He wanted me to show her a trick…. And how could I resist, as they both looked up at me all wide eyed and expecting me to work some miracles !
I smiled at her, her eyes large with excitement, glittery like her long earrings swaying freely from her ears, bouncing off her cherubs cheeks.
I reached again into my pockets, and pulled out a penny. I took up the lass’s gloved hand and appeared to place the penny onto her palm, curling her fingers over it before she could have a proper look. I told her to hold it tight now. And as she did, she looked down upon it, her free hand plying with the shimmering rhinestones of her necklace. As all sets of eyes were glued on the clenched hand,except my own, I was idly looking the necklace over, and noticed that chain of her necklace was clasped around her throat by a simple hook in eye, but at the time did not think it of any significance to it.
I said something about needing a wand, and reaching back, pulled the straw from my drink. They both giggled at my impromptu choice, as I took the straw and tapped it on the back of her hand holding the “Penny” I told her to open her hand and she did, both gasping that the “penny” had turned into a shiny fifty pence piece. I told her to keep it, her face beaming .
“Here miss,” I said, “let me see that hand again?” She gave it to me and as I pulled two more pennies from my pocket.
I Laid the penny on the backside of her hand and had the lad hold open his palm under neath, after apparently placing a penny into it also. I than brushed my hand along the young Miss’s making the penny vanish.
I told them to look in the boys hand ,had him open his fingers and there was not a penny, but another fifty pence coin, which I let the lad keep as they both gasped over the magical transformation!
The pair were quite keen for more after that, so I began to show them some tricks with playing cards, keeping them both spellbound. It was passing the dreary time by I will admit, having a chance to amaze the young urchin and the princess with my simple tricks!
But the opportunity to be excited by my tricks led to other things, and the girl took her leave shyly and headed off hurriedly to the loo in a swishing of her long gown.
As I watched her scamper off, I again eyed the lad, who also seemed keen on also scampering off after her.
The little hugger mugger I thought as he made to dart away. But in that second , with those words in me head, I had a most epiphany like flash of brilliance( at least to me) inspired by that thought as it travelled down an avenue of my mind that had caused me to take note of how loosely a rhinestone necklace was being held up around the departing young lass’s neck and at the same instant I saw the girls prying the lad’s hand from her waist and placing it just under….. said necklace’s clasp !
It all put me in mind of a trick I had once heard of performed by magician Harry Kellar....!
I quickly grasped the lad by the shoulder before he took flight.
“Ere now, how would you like to play a magic trick on the lass yonder?” I asked as I directed his attention to the girl who was just at that second disappearing down the hallway leading to the girls’ loo?
He nodded exuberantly!
I than conspiratorially explained a slight of hand trick he could help me pull off on his very own.
He had rather caught onto the idea as I explained to him in simple terms, making is sound far easier than it would/should be.
I gave him a gentle push ..” Go get em tiger!” I said with unbridled encouragement.
And so, with a rather lustfully smouldering fuse lit, making any additional need of persuasion moot, off he scurried!
I watched with growing anticipation as the lad approached the hall way, waiting and eagerly watching.
The young bridesmaid ,reappeared, and upon her approach, the laddie moved in behind her, placing a hand on the young bridesmaid’s sleek back, grabbing at her attention, and started talking with a pointed affably.
In a few minutes the pair of them were on the wooden dance floor, once again looking exceptionally cute as a couple, as they danced to a rather preferable romantic slow tune whose name has slipped my mind, so focused was I on my mischievous endeavor being carried out !
The young darlings mimicked the adults around them, and embraced closely against one another.
I looked around, Nor were any of the said adults paying the pair any heed..
I had directed him to try and slip off the girl’s necklace as the first part of a trick to play on her. But I was really figuring that he would bumble it and get caught out, which would be an amusing thing to witness...
He pulled her in closer, an she fell all in for it… maybe she was experiencing the same female feelings as his partner, for her eyes were also tightly closed. With his partner so engrossed, my lad easily reached over a satin clad shoulder, then moved his fingers to the back of her neck, where he gently pulled at her rhinestone necklaces silver chain and it’s quite easy opening clasp.
He fumbled a bit with said clasp, but I saw him peeking over her shoulder for a better look, and he managed to studiously slip out the hook on his second attempt.
He then carefully began to pull it up along the front of his dance partners blood red satin gown, then over her shoulders’ sleeve and down her back where it dangled for a few precious seconds
As they sparkled away down her back I began to feel a prickling myself as I perked up, this may actually bloody work!!
I watch as he then, quite unnoticed, secreted the necklace into a side pocket of his suits’ jacket pocket as I had instructed him to do.
I released my breath not realizing I had been holding it.. He had gotten away with it, and his prettily dressed partner hadn’t a bloody clue as to what had just transpired with her departing necklace, and no one else had either.
They finished the dance, it seemed like an eternity, but it was thrilling to try and catch glimpses of the cousins’ now bare neckline He had pulled off the first part of the trick without being caught out.
I had figured he would get his hands caught in the till, which is the show I had been expecting to watch play out on the hapless lad.
It would have been amusing in and of itself if he had been caught red handed, but this new game would be almost as fun.
Finally they broke apart and he walked off with her. I held my breath again, but he seemed to inherently realize that as part of the “trick”, he didn’t want her suspicions raised by being quick to leave. God bless his natural budding adult male like deviousness!
He had done it, but I wasn’t through with him yet. The game, and watching it being played out, had been all far too exciting for me also, and there was the encore to pull off !
He brought his innocent victim over , grinning ear to ear.
Well done I said to him, as the girl looked at me, a bit confused as to what well done was on about.
“Another Trick my lass?”, I asked, and she shook her head happily.
I lifted up the girls gloved hand, palm up, and placed a penny onto it, keeping my hand on her palm..
I then told the lass to close her eyes, and winked at the lad, who smiled back knowingly, as she obediently did so.
I motioned him to hand me the necklace, and he did so. With the quickness of a dip, I lifted the penny and replaced it with her necklace.
I took the straw and tapped it along her throat , she giggled at that, than tapped it on her palm, telling her to open her eyes.
She did so and the went wide with astonishment as she saw a rhinestone necklace dangling there. Her hand went to her throat, discovering the “cupboard was now bare!”, she gasped as she realized the necklace was her own!
I had her hold up the necklace and had the lad reclasp it for her, her eyes wide with the belief of an innocent who thought she was witnessing real magic. She gave me a hug, and I shook the lads hand with a wink before sending them off…a pub somewhere was still calling, and I wanted to go and follow its enticing voice.
I thoughtfully watched the young couple whisk of weaving amongst the crowd till they were lost from my sight, my mind half taking in once again the swishing of a most delightful gown as I mulled it all over while watching.
That had been easy enough trick, quite well played I thought, like in a movie.
My mind drifted onto various movies I had seen, and one in particular jumped out. ( read on and see if at the end you can guess which movie?)
As the movie flashed across my mind I looked in the direction the lass had gone, lucky for the young lady her necklace had not been real, for if I was a rogue of that thieving nature like the actor from that movie, well I could have easily rearranged the sequence of things and have walked off pretty as you please with diamonds in me pocket.
I chuckled at the thought as it popped itself in me mind , for I had not been thinking anything of the sort as I had orchestrated the trick, and would not have if I hadn’t thought about the movie! Besides, ladies that young never wear the real thing anyways, not unlike actress’s, and .....stylish grandmother’s !
For said Grandmother was once again in my line of vision, her back to me, as she merrily was chatting away with one of the prune face spinster Aunties! I tipped my head in her direction, for it was time to finally, happily , vacate the premises.
Then as I rose to leave, my last remaining ( cougar) chum from the original group, joined up with me. her “friend” had deserted her for his school mates. I regained my seat as she took the vacant one next to me, ordered her a drink, and a refill for me..
I decided to stay and hold the fort with the lass for a bit before shoving off.
We sat and drank for about 15 minutes, and as my chum was chatting away merrily about her conquest that evening. I found my eyes lazily drifting over the dancers out on the floor. It was still quite a show,, a mixture of flowing, colourful evening gowns and flickering jewels contrasted by formal suits and severe black tuxes.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw the Brides mother, the young Grandmother, who had managed to squirm her way from the severe Auntie. Her blue gown shimmery under the lights, rings on her fingers dancing with glittery flickers. Amusingly enough she was now dancing with her grandson, the same huggy lad who I had done a bit of magic for, and who had been my most willing accomplice for a trick played out upon the young bride’s maid.
I had been watching the pair with causal awareness when “Blimey!” suddenly something I observed forced me to snap out of my reverie and sat straight up in my seat..
“What’s up? “my friend asked me with curiosity.
“Nothing really” I said, as my eyes confirmed what I had seen was real.
Better “eeflay ethay emisespray” was what I was in fact thinking, and the sooner the better my mind added...
I turned towards my mate, “you know, I really feel like a proper drink and not this watered down tosh. Lets say we take a stroll towards our hotel and try to find a nice friendly pub on the way?”
“Capital “ she said jumping at the chance to leave squeezing my arm,” Ive had it with this scene too lad!”, and as I looked in her eyes I saw her look towards a table off to the side where the young man who had caught and discarded her fancy, was perched with another, younger, lady- one of the bridesmaids.
We went to the exit, and as I helped her on with her faux mink wrap I looked over her shoulder for the grandmother and my touchy lad. They were still dancing. And the thorny issue that had me fleeing into the night, was still , well, an issue !! It looked like I was going to just make it out before....
My mind was a mass of whirling thoughts as we walked out of the venue an onto the smoggy street. I suggested we continue to walk, I needed the time to clear my head for a proper think...
We strolled off, arm in arm ( her idea). I was vaguely aware of my friends fancy party dress whipping along my leg as it fell swaying in the light breeze from beneath her Faux mink. But my churning mind was not properly appreciating the experience, for it twas entirely back at the reception.........
And here we have reached the end of Part one ( of two)
For the 15th time, the PBR Unleash the Beast took place on January 10 and 11, 2025 at the All-State Arena outside Chicago.
Joao Ricardo Vieira made his 1,000th career premier series out, making him the fifth cowboy in PBR history to reach that milestone. He took sixth place in the event, earning $3,400.00. Brady Fielder won the event, earning $52,590.
UPDATE 050409 - He's staying and I've named him Louie!
02-28-09: This is Cat (real name Chuey)- he literally walked in my back door a couple of weeks ago. After a few days, I did find his owner, Miss Carrie. She's going through a tough stretch right now, so I'm fostering Cat until she's back on her feet.
He's a beautiful blue gray kitty with a bad right eye, sweet as can be and loves my blanket!
My BBC (Big Black Cat) Bear passed away in July 2007, and my Yorkie Maxie (the dog in my icon photo) passed away in April 2008. Lately I've been dreaming of my first Yorkie baby Cricket, who died in Sept 1999 (I don't have any digital photos of her but will scan some old ones). I think she's been telling me something...
Anyway, Cat has a safe place to stay for a while, and I think he's smiling a bit in this picture. His mom needs a break right now, and I'm giving it to her. Hope she holds up her end of the bargain...
I hope to get more pictures of Cat but as most kitties, he doesn't pose well.
Unknown to him, I took this shot of an elderly friend and ex-neighbour who we often see walking his dog. As he is not too steady on his feet and we have a lot of hills in our neighbourhood, he is using his walker to steady himself. He loves walking with his dog Molly.
NB: Since 2018 or 2019, his one companion for life, his wonderful dog Molly has died. I see this man often and he seems very sad. He does have a daughter who visits him, but losing one's beloved pet is a very sad thing; I know that also.
Photo from the Albert Kuhbandner collection, scan kindly provided by him for inclusion on this page.
München-Riem
1985
G-BRJS
British Aerospace BAe-146-100
E1004
Dan-Air London (basic RAF colours)
Information from airhistory.net - thanks to Richard Vandervord:
The fourth 146 built started life as BAF demonstrator G-OBAF then served for eighteen months with the RAF as ZD695, hence the inherited livery adopted by Dan-Air. Later G-OJET with Manx, PK-MTA with Merpati (lease), G-DEBJ with Debonair and lastly VH-NJA with National Jet; b/u ADL 5.09
Registration details for this airframe:
www.planelogger.com/Aircraft/Registration/G-BRJS/422999
Detailed history of this airframe:
aussieairliners.org/bae146/vh-nja/vhnja.html
This airframe as G-OBAF with BAF at DUS in 1982:
www.flickr.com/photos/coptercrazy/31048457400
This airframe as ZD695 with RAF at Brize Norton in June 1984:
www.flickr.com/photos/105925977@N03/31838598207
This airframe as G-OJET with Manx Airlines at LHR in September 1991:
www.flickr.com/photos/66737297@N06/52075172173
This airframe as PK-MTA with Merpati Nusantara at ADL ca. 1996:
www.flickr.com/photos/singapore269/15375898038
This airframe as VH-NJA with QantasLink at BNE in June 2001:
www.airhistory.net/photo/335412/VH-NJA
This airframe as G-DEBJ with Debonair at BCN in March 1999:
www.flickr.com/photos/jordi757/16016740918
This airframe as G-DEBJ with Debonair at LTN in May 1999 (later colours):
www.flickr.com/photos/pslg05896/40596588521
This airframe as VH-NJA with National Jet Systems (NJS) at ADL in April 2007:
cdn.jetphotos.com/full/1/82460_1193094556.jpg
Scan from slide (unknown brand):
Stitched Panorama
The Annapurna Himal from the northeast. Left to right: Annapurna II and IV (close together), Annapurna III, Gangapurna, Annapurna I, far right Tilicho Peak. Marsyangdi Valley with Manang village at bottom.
Blake and Sharpe's Apartment, Earlier this week.
"Sit down, sit down!" Sharpe said quickly. Chuck entered the room, and tried very hard not to throw up, as Mayo, Rigger and Reardon entered after him. On the floor, were several opened porn magazines, dirty tissues and what looked to be a body pillow. Mayo picked up a Playboy issue from off the floor, and flicked through it casually, eyebrow raised.
"I see you've made yourself at home," Chuck said uncertainly, as he took a hand wipe out of his pocket, and mopped down his plastic chair.
"No, no, that's all Blake's stuff. Kept it exactly as he left it. Aside from the ladies that is." Sharpe gestured to the plush cushion Reardon was currently perched upon; a particularly plump pillow, identifiable as Power Girl.
Chuck and Rigger exchanged worried glances, before turning to face the laptop. "Why'd you bring us out here Chancer?"
"Yeah, if you were going to murder us, surely you've had ample time to do so," Reardon nodded.
"This!" Chancer grinned, as he opened up a new window on his laptop. "A while ago, Blake and Zodiac propositioned me-"
Chuck and Rigger both tried their best to look surprised.
"Not like- For a music video. Suppose they wanted my youthful know-how, because I'm under 40."
"I'm under 40," Rigger muttered, defeated.
"Yesterday," Sharpe continued, "I finished it," he said proudly, now typing something into YouTube. "He didn't leave me with much, and I had to work with what I had, but... What do you think?"
"I think, we should be searching for Blake," Chuck mumbled under his breath, as he noticed the thumbnail, and recognition dawned on him. "Oh god."
"Yeah, but, I mean- Shut up and watch," Chancer shrugged, as he pressed play, and the rest of the Misfits looked on aghast as an image of looked to be Blake, Zodiac Master and Planet Master in even tighter leotards filled the screen.
"Like I said, I was working with really old footage," Sharpe sighed.
Zodiac was first up, as he mugged the camera, and grinned feverishly:
"You can call me Zodiac Master
I'm something of a finger blaster
Look at my penis, it's an odd shade of blue,
It's a medical condition, but I'm here to woo!"
"Woo!" Blake chimed in.
"Human Magnet is kinda a prick, (Woo!)
From what I hear, he's a tiny dick (Woo!)
You can ditch him, if you like, (Woo!)
And if you don't, well, you might be a-"
"Charming," Reardon muttered.
On the screen, all three were now singing, and making uncomfortable gestures with the instruments.
"(Woo!) God bless the pussy patrol.
(Woo!) God bless the pussy patrol
(Woo!) God bless the pussy patrol
God bless me, and the pussy patrol."
"Well, at least they've got a chorus?" Rigger said, somewhat optimistically, which faded as soon as Planet Master took his shirt off, and placed it atop his helmet like a hat.
"Woo! You can call me Norbet- Irving
How about another serving?
I love planets, my favourite's famous.
Let me just say it, I love Uranus."
"Innuendo, innuendo f-word
Innuendo innuendo f-word
Innuendo innuendo f-word"
"Call up the pussy patrol"
"Innuendo, innuendo f-word
Innuendo innuendo f-word
Innuendo innuendo f-word"
"That's why we're the pussy patrol!"
"Call me TB, cause I'm diseased
But that's just a metaphor, I aim to please
I'd drop the N-word, if I had the pass
But Rigga said no, and I've far too much class."
Chuck sighed. "That's enough."
Mayo looked up. "That was it?"
Chuck rubbed his eyes. "Well, he repeats "God bless the pussy patrol" about ten more times, and does a six minute air guitar solo, but yeah. Pretty much"
Chancer paused the video and turns to the group expectantly. "Pretty cool right?"
Reardon bows his head shamefully. "I wish I were deaf too," he muttered, defeated. "This was before the cat demon, right?"
"Yeah?"
...
"Then, remind me. Why do we want to save him?"
~
Slabside Penitentiary. Now.
As Bruce entered the prison, he passed a pair of guards being carried away on gurneys. On the ground, two paramedics were performing CPR on another officer. As he wandered down the hallway, he came to a stop at Dent's cell, and nodded, before continuing on his way.
"Batman," a deep voice snarled. In the adjacent cell, a man, nearly seven foot tall, was pacing around his room. Resting on his bed, a small, stuffed bear. Osito.
"I hear Kuttler made an appeal. Claiming that he was "strongarmed," into joining our crusade. Threatened, by us. Said that he was... instrumental in defusing our weapon. Coward... You will find I am no such fool. I am proud of what we accomplished."
Bruce turned to face him, and scowled. "Bane."
"You know, Batman, imprisoning me was the worst thing you could've done. I was forged in Peña Duro. These inmates will bend to my will just as they did, and when I'm free, I will break you," Bane smiled.
"I'm not here to see you," Bruce remarked, as he continued walking.
~
Butchinsky's
As Chuck, Reardon and Rigger enter the bar, a short, red and black suited man walks past them, his head held down. As he turns around, his eyes flash in recognition for a second, before shaking his head, and walking off into the toilets.
"Ant Man?" Chuck calls out after him, but he gets no reply. He shrugs, and continues into the main bar.
"Corner booth," Fiasco nods, as he gestures to the hooded figure now slurping from a wine glass. "He's been waiting for you."
"Hellhound, I presume?" Chuck asks, as he slides into the booth beside him. The man nods.
"There are few things the colour of red wine. This, is not red wine," he whispers hoarsely, as he took another sip.
"Creepy..." Rigger mused.
"It's Ribena," the man smiles, as he rests the glass to one side.
"Oh."
"Yeah," Hellhound nodded, clearly amused. "I emptied a carton in there before you arrived. Brought it from home."
"Yes, thank you for the income," Fiasco spat.
"Electro's shrinking furniture again," Rigger noted, as he pointed at a blue skinned man in the far corner, currently firing a ray gun at a barstool. Fiasco nodded, then cocked his shotgun.
"It's for my Dollhou- I mean, my plans of world domination!" Electro cackled mischievously, as he took the wooden stool, and ran out the door.
"Oh wow, you don't hear many good evil laughs these days," Hellhound mused, as he took another swig of Ribena.
"Honestly, I felt it was a little tacked on," Rigger shrugged. "Where's Sharpe anyway?" he asked the assembly. "Thought he was looking forward to this."
"He was." Reardon paused. "He said he had a... meeting with his grandfather. Which suits me fine- I don't want to spend another second around those rubber dolls."
"Body Pillows," Rigger corrected him.
...
"I just think we should make a distinction."
~
Gotham Waterworks. Headquarters of the Injustice Society
"This, gentlemen, is my nephew," their leader, a short, round man drawled, a gloved hand placed on Sharpe's shoulder
"Grandson-" Chancer began, as he looked at the assembly awkwardly. One of them, a hooded, reptilian figure hadn't taken it's eyes off of him since he'd arrived. Nor, by Sharpe's estimation, had it blinked.
"Let's not say the G-word, Montgomery, you'll make me look old," Gambler chuckled, as his grip tightened.
Chancer frowned. "You are old. You named me Montgomery," before turning back to the hooded creature, as though he were worried that it might strike at any moment.
Beneath it's hood, red reptilian eyes gleamed. And then it spoke, it's voice a calm, raspy and yet somewhat elegant sound.
"Tell me Montgomery, do you like muffins?" it asked, arms crossed.
Chancer paused. "I- Yeah, sure."
With the snap of his finger, a red robed figure appeared, and lay a still hot tray down in front of them. "Happy homecoming," the Dragon King rasped. "They're chocolate chip."
~
The Batcave
"Welcome home, Master Bruce, I trust last night's investigation proved fruitful?" Alfred asked, as Bruce stepped out of the Batwing, and marched over to the Batcomputer.
"In a sense. Prep the batcycle, I'm going out on patrol," he muttered.
"Shall I fetch Master Damian?" Alfred queried, as he rested a platter of sandwiches by his side.
Bruce shook his head. "No. No, I can do this alone."
"As you keep insisting. But, I must at least ask you to consider an early night in. After a long journey-"
"After a long journey, who knows what trouble's sprung up in my absence," Bruce replied, as he filed a report onto the computer.
"You know, it's not your fault. What happened to Mr Walker, while tragic, is-"
Bruce raised a tired hand. "Alfred... Please. Just give me an update on Gotham's most wanted."
"At once sir," Alfred replied, as he brought up a series of police reports onto the screen. "Here's something new, Reuben Pharmaceuticals was just robbed. Witnesses say that the door was ripped off it's hinges; guards were incapacitated by a flash of white light, and when the air cleared, the thief, and the chemicals were gone."
"What did they steal?" Bruce grimaced, as he lowered his cowl.
"One moment... Ten drums of... That can't be right. Rohypnol."
Bruce rose to his feet suddenly, and scowled. "Alfred, warn Selina. Karl Kyle's back in Gotham."
~
Butchinsky's
Chuck turned back to Hellhound. "We were told by a... friend of ours, that you're something of an expert in the occult."
"You could say that," Hellhound nodded.
"Well, recently, another friend of ours, was infected. By a sex demon."
Hellhound raised an eyebrow. "The Incubus..."
"It calls itself the King of Cats, we've had a few run-ins with it before, but..."
"But it's an immortal sex demon," Rigger interjected.
Chuck nodded. "Can you help us?"
Hellhound scratched his forehead, licked his lips and rose to his feet. "Of course I can," he said, as he placed his hand on the doorknob. "Oh," he paused. "Who did you say recommended me?"
Reardon frowned; Rigger looked at Chuck hesitantly.
"Paul Dekker."
Hellhound chuckled. "Paul Dekker... Good man, great kisser. Come on, gents, let's get this sexorcism started."