Podcasts about amazonia

Brasil, sede de la cumbre COP30 en la Amazonia en noviembre, se enfrenta a un preocupante aumento del nivel del mar debido al calentamiento global. El nivel del mar en la aldea de Atafona, al norte del estado de Río de Janeiro, podría subir unos 21 cm para 2050, según previsiones de la ONU. La aldea está sufriendo uno de los desastres ambientales más graves del mundo debido a la erosión costera. 

ozmowa z Elżbietą Dziedzic na temat jej najnowszej książki "Marika i Bazylii Tajemnice Amazonii". Odkryjcie razem z nami niezwykłe przygody rodzeństwa, które tym razem przenosi się z arktycznych krajobrazów do bujnej dżungli amazońskiej. Elżbieta opowiada o tym, jak ważna jest ekologia i ochrona przyrody w tej opowieści, a także o edukacyjnych aspektach książki, które zachwycą nie tylko dzieci, ale i dorosłych. Dowiedzcie się, jak pisarka wplata elementy kultury i języka portugalskiego, oraz jakie tajemnice kryje Amazonia. To nie tylko historia przygodowa, ale także refleksja nad relacjami między ludźmi a naturą. Zapraszamy do wysłuchania tej fascynującej rozmowy!Strona autorki:www.polskalitera.commedia społecznościowe:https://www.facebook.com/polskaliterahttps://www.youtube.com/@polskalitera3032https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100093496456813

L'actu culture-médias de ce vendredi 4 avril : C'est aujourd'hui que s'ouvre l'exposition Amazonia du photographe franco-brésilien Sebastião Salgado. Le réalisateur italien Nanni Moretti dans un état stable après une crise cardiaque. 7 albums inédits de Bruce Springsteen vont sortir le 27 juin prochain. L'affiche du festival Jazz Middelheim est désormais complète. Le compositeur de la bande originale de la série White Lotus ne reviendra pas en saison 4. Et puis, enfin Hugo de Waha est le lauréat de la Bourse Payot 2025. Merci pour votre écoute N'hésistez pas à vous abonner également aux podcasts des séquences phares de Matin Première: L'Invité Politique : https://audmns.com/LNCogwPL'édito politique « Les Coulisses du Pouvoir » : https://audmns.com/vXWPcqxL'humour de Matin Première : https://audmns.com/tbdbwoQRetrouvez tous les contenus de la RTBF sur notre plateforme Auvio.be Retrouvez également notre offre info ci-dessous : Le Monde en Direct : https://audmns.com/TkxEWMELes Clés : https://audmns.com/DvbCVrHLe Tournant : https://audmns.com/moqIRoC5 Minutes pour Comprendre : https://audmns.com/dHiHssrEt si vous avez apprécié ce podcast, n'hésitez pas à nous donner des étoiles ou des commentaires, cela nous aide à le faire connaître plus largement. Distribué par Audiomeans. Visitez audiomeans.fr/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

Guardian Goddess in Manhattan.Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels."Our Princess grew up around a woman whose keen intellect we rely on to protect us from unseen enemies," Saint Marie's voice became deeper and more threatening. "At the age of ten, she," Saint Marie looked my way as my hand shot up mimicking Aya's identical plea for attention."Yes Ishara?" Saint Marie chose to acknowledge me."She's nine.""Fine. At the age of nine, she earned an honorific, Mamētu me eda, which I didn't accomplish until my 19th year." 'Yes Ladies, I'm an epic bad-ass and I've been out-performed by a child'."She was kidnapped along with the Head of House Ishara. They tortured her by clipping off two of her digits, one at a time, then seared the damage with a blowtorch. She gave them nothing. At the end of the encounter, the two of them managed to defeat thirty Seven Pillar's commandos, over fifteen she disabled personally.""After killing nearly half as many enemies as the 35 I have personally dispatched in my entire career, she crossed a mile and a half of barren rock in the midst of a Category 4 Typhoon. Cáel Ishara only helped her half of the way because he was engaged with the last two members of the Seven Pillar's team.""I have utter confidence the madness here today, while assisted by House Epona and Ishara, was the brainchild of Krasimira. I say 'assisted' because Cáel Ishara spared Kwenhamai's life on the battlefield. Katrina Epona removed Kwenhamai from Romanian custody to keep her out of the hands of those who wished us harm. I was aware Kwenhamai was in New York, but not her precise location.""My read on the situation is this:"Aya of Kururiyahhssi was aware of Kwenhamai and Krasimira's plot to adopt her into the bloodline of the first Amazon.""She was not aware of Kwenhamai's plan to exit the Host in the manner she chose. I read the shock and pain in, Aya's face.""Our Princess has not given me a single order and I am the only voice here today that matters, I am the Golden Mare and the Council has consistently failed to agree on a Regency.""Krasimira, why have you done this?" Saint Marie abruptly asked for either a denial, or acquiescence of her perception of events."As directed by the Ancestors, the statute of a goddess of a First House was recast then returned to her perpetual spot. It brought new light to a dark, sacred and painful place. In that moment I realized that for the first time in nearly 3,200 years, the descendants of every Amazon gathered before the walls of Wilusa (Troy) had been reunited.""I was troubled. Was this a portent the augurs couldn't divine? In their council (the augurs) then came up with the words 'speak to our eldest'."Oh shit, the rest of the Council was racking their minds trying to figure who was the oldest surviving Amazon. I knew for a fact they were overlooking the two top candidates."I sought out the eldest Amazon alive. They claimed to not have the answer for my worries. She had far more numerous things weighing on her mind such as her intimate demise. Though I hated sharing the same air with her, I asked her to tell me her greatest regret.""I had given up on the Amazon Race until an Amazon reminded me, through martial effort, valiant spirit and a kind heart, I was wrong to abandon my faith with my people. Now I will die, unable to pass on my renewed hope because the one Amazon I would trust with my legacy is equally childless.""I asked her the name of this Amazon she felt was worthy of her legacy. Then I informed her she was wrong and the Amazon in question did indeed have a daughter. She asked to meet the daughter,""Last night I requested the presence of a female child residing with members of House Epona," the Keeper of Records looked up at the Golden Mare. "I provided neither the resident female (Caitlyn, Aya's Mother), or the House Head with an explanation."Female childSince my revival, Amazons were using 'female' child a lot more often. This meant, the motheer had never told her daughter farewell. The true fate of Aya of Epona would never officially be recorded. She has been born, but never recorded as an Amazon of her true House."The three of us met alone. The two embraced; birth mother and daughter. The eldest of us proclaimed she saw the light of Kururiyahhssi in her daughter's eyes. Words were exchanged. The child agreed to be adopted then departed. Further arrangements were made without the child's knowledge as we have recently observed.""I testify that there is only one Amazon alive today who knows what transpired and I will take those conversations to my grave. Does that suffice?" Krasimira finished. I was already regurgitating my mental quandary with my Isharans. Was Aya really a daughter of Kururiyahhssi?"I will leave it to the others to contemplate your, bizarre actions, Krasimira," Saint Marie frowned. "As for the rest of you, Aya has impressed me. If she has not impressed you, I do not care. I think she is definitely influenced by those two," Saint Marie motioned to Katrina and me. "It is a given since Katrina was of her blood and she has risked much in the presence of a man she calls 'Atta' and he calls 'Duma'.""Katrina is a cold, heartless snake and I am convinced she is one of the best 'First Bearer of the Sun Spear through the Halls of Night and Death' the Host been served by in a long, long time.” Saint Marie paused then looked at me while she said; “ Cáel is a fool who leads with his heart when he should let better women take charge. Fortunately for the rest of us, he is reliably successful despite his multitude of handicaps."Was I upset about being insulted? No. The truth hurts and a Man needs to learn to roll with the punches. Buffy I could deal with. Katrina most likely appreciated being associated with a dangerous reptile. Saint Marie hadn't forgotten Katrina threating Saint Marie's daughter that was for sure."I am considering much of what our Princess would like me/us to do, because it is based in keen insight and well-reasoned thought. She wishes to spare our sons so we will have more warriors in the fight. We have already added men to Havenstone and one to the Council, as was the Will of the Ancestors.""Let me see, she wishes a bodyguard of fourteen (2 First House and 1 from Africa, Asia, Europe and North & South America, the Amazon presence in Australia was minimal and I doubted they would bring someone up from Antarctica, plus the seven matching Runners) without removing permanent members of any House and allowing all Houses to have access to our future Queen. I approve. It is a fine idea and I wish I had thought of it.""Should we add Runners directly into the Royal House? She doesn't think so and I feel this decision shows a remarkably insightful into the long history of our People and protects the Council's sensitivity on such matters. I approve.""Placing our sons into the care of the Royal House? We need to free up as many sisters as possible. Men under the care of the Royal House will be tradesmen and help-mates. Not a single weapon will be in their hands. If none of you have realized herlike will take two decades to implement, it only increases my eagerness to see her become 'casted'."Aya's hand shot up again.Yes?""I would hope the Council, or the Regents, will consider a 'like' which is not mine. It is a man's and it should be of no surprise the idea is Cáel's.""If you feel it holds merit, Aya, tell us," Saint Marie deferred."The 9 Clans have shown some interest in a children exchange programs among our youth as it would provide new techniques we can add to our arsenal an a new avenue to experiment with new ideas. I find the idea to be promising as the Host takes part in affairs beyond our own immediate needs. It would also supply partners between families to be shared for a season or two."Translation: Amazon women could breed with men of allied Secret Societies to reduce our dependence on our own, much smaller, male population. In the short term, it would go a long way to rectifying the Host's child-bearing problems.The Council's quarrelsome behavior was biting them in the ass big time. Saint Marie was right, the only opinion that mattered was hers until the Council elected a Regency. Had we not been at war, the Council would have ruled, but we were, so we took orders from the Golden Mare. Even if the High Priestess had been alive, she would have deferred to our designated War Leader on most things."Cáel Ish, Cáel Wakko Ishara is a very dangerous and devious male, Aya. Be careful of any council he gives," Saint Marie's caution was more playful than menacing."I'll be okay," Aya peeped. "He doesn't have sex with any woman until she is eighteen." That wasn't what the Golden Mare was cautioning her about. We all knew it. Aya was working to defuse a sticky bit of mental juggling, listening to a man's advice."On that we can agree," Saint Marie conceded. "Back to what I would 'like' to say. The New Directive is being implemented. I feel it goes beyond the purview of my mandate. I will leave it for the Regency to deal with. Katrina and Tessa have already invested in the groundwork in this endeavor, so I will endorse it if that is the decision of the Regency.""I have zero desire to add a single Runner to the Security Detail. I will open up slots in the training program if that is what the Regency demands. Each House's policy for dealing with the First Directive is their business, not mine. If any of you wish to consider something the Princess considers to be important, so be it. The idea of 1,000 Isharans does not appeal to me. Look how much trouble their tiny numbers have already caused us and take heed."Buffy began growling, which amused/worried the Houses on either side of us. Unlike me, Buffy didn't 'roll with the blows' and considered all manner of insults to me, House Ishara and her Isharan sisters to be answerable with violence. I loved her so. There was also no way I'd let her go after Saint Marie. The Golden Mare would crush her; I had no doubt."The unwelcome blood feud: are both House Heads ignorant of my forbiddance of such things? Apparently so. Both defied me by tossing insults back and forth. Considering we are at war with two of the most powerful Secret factions, I am angered by both for their idiocy.""The solution the Princess likes is rather novel," Saint Marie was punishing both Messina and me with her low voice and fiery gaze. Krasimira coughed."Yes?" Saint Marie suspended her anger."The suggested resolution is not without precedence," Krasimira spoke with a scholarly detachment. "In our early days, the Host settled such disputes in Spring and Fall gatherings by contests of foot speed, hunting, horsewomanship, archery and wrestling. If we revive the tradition, the competing Houses could nominate one woman for each contest to settle the matter. Only the hand-to-hand match would risk either contestant's health.""I will consider it and render judgement before the Sun sets today," Saint Marie nodded. "The final like pleases me greatly. Dealing with the 52 of you is, Cáel?"I was on the spot. I couldn't let down my fan base of one, Aya. Perhaps it was five, Buffy (who would never admit it), Daphne (who liked me), Katrina (because she liked fucking with my head) and Desiree (who was less likely to admit she found me funny than Buffy).I felt I gave a decent effort."'A ginormous pain in my hemorrhoids?' the basic one.""'More painful than having my cornea scrapped with a spoon?' more gruesome.""'Enough to make me want to give Sakuniyas a surprise French kiss?' most likely to be fatal.""'Worse than waking up to discover I'm related to Cáel Wakko Ishara?' most horrifying, for both of us.""'Inspiring me to toss it all away and take up Professional Bikini Mud Wrestling?' a personal fantasy of mine.""Why do we put up with him again?" one House Head remarked."Because I am worried that one," motioning to Buffy, "will stab me in the elevator after a meeting.""My First, are you acting psychotic around the Council members?" I looked over my shoulder at Buffy."Wakko Ishara, it is not an act. I am psychotic," she responded deadpan."Are you still packing that thermite grenade?""No Wakko Ishara. Daphne stole it from me and hid it," was her quick delivery."I love working with you two," Daphne whispered."What is it with you, your unsubtle sexual innuendo and me in a bikini?" Saint Marie stared at me."I find the combination of brilliance and lethality sexy. Just ask Elsa," I grinned. Then I grimaced as Buffy stomped on my toes. The House Heads and Apprentices on either side of me noticed and clearly expected me to do something, like to show outrage (because she was my underling), or start crying (because I was a guy)."Prestige," Daphne hissed quietly. "Prestige." She was reminding Buffy that beating me up in public made the other Amazons think even less of me than they already did."I will go with (B), the cornea scrapping," Saint Marie gave me a nod."Damn it," I muttered. I also got my foot out of the way before someone did any more damage to my phalanges.'Best Daddy Ever,' Aya mouthed to me. Back to the main action."It is not my place to order the rest of you to elect Shawnee, Rhada and Buffy to be the Regency. I do admit I admire the mixture of candidates," Saint Marie declared. I shot Rhada a quick look. She seemed really, really enamored of the idea of being part of the Regency, thus staying in New York for the next decade, or so."Before the idea is rejected out of hand, I suggest we ask the three people our Princess would like to be part of the Regency if they would accept the nomination," the Golden Mare continued. "Shawnee Arinniti?""I bow to the logic and reason of the proposal," Shawnee replied."Rhada Meenakshi?""I wish to join my sisters in battle, yet I accept the reasoning behind the proposal," Rhada nodded. "If my Head of House agrees, I will stay and do my part for our People." What was she saying to me? 'You are going to whip me, beat me, torture me, humiliate me and push me to beyond the limits of any pain I have experienced until I pass out ~ repeatedly'."I despair of finding any other compromise," Mahdi frowned. "If my Apprentice understands the greater difficulty she will face gaining prestige among her House-mates, I will consent to this proposal." Essentially a 'yes'."Buffy Ishara?""I was really looking forward to ripping the spines out of still living foes, but I would be a fool to go against Aya of Kururiyahhssi's smarts. If Wakko Ishara wants to walk out of this room unassisted, he will see the wisdom of this decision as well," she gave me a shark's smile. Daphne had surpassed her limit and punched Buffy."Hell ya, I agree," I exclaimed. "Now I know there will be certain times of the day when she isn't stalking me.""I'll work more pain into our limited schedule," Buffy grumbled."Are we sure he is the House Head and she is the Apprentice?" Yet another House Head joined the 'shit on me' train.It was telling of our group dynamic how we accepted the Pyramid of Pain. The underlings dispensed advice and violence as they felt necessary without their 'superior' getting pissy about it. Buffy felt totally justified hitting me and accepted being hit by Daphne, who continued to act unimpeded as Buffy's rapid-fire translator."If I was House Head, I'd handcuff him to me," Buffy clarified for her."What she said," I pointed a thumb Buffy's way. I'd have used a finger, but she might have grabbed, twisted and made me scream in pain."Perhaps the Council can vote on this as their second order of business," Saint Marie cloaked her command as a suggestion."Cáel Wakko Ishara, can I ask you a personal question?" Kohar of Marda caught my attention."Shoot, wait, probably not the best terminology in this crowd. Ask away," I replied."Have you faced a House challenge yet?""Yes. Just last night in fact. We free-climbed the north-face of Havenstone. I beat the next closest contender by three floors. I also had Princess Aya on the roof dropping bricks on anyone who attempted to get past me.""That means he isn't going to answer you," Beyoncé  interpreted for my audience."Can't you ever take these meetings seriously?" Febe Mielikki glowered."La, Febe, in the past few minutes I have watched the person I love most in the world get her life shat on," I shook my head."The only thing worse than seeing this happen to Aya is knowing this is her sole opportunity to not lose her soul, so I'm sucking up my heart's pain and putting forward a jester's persona so I don't put any more pressure on her than she's already been subjected to. Like me, she doesn't want the distinction of being a Person of Note.""Like me, she knows she must sacrifice her dreams for the sake of our People, the Amazon Host. Trust me, you would rather have 'me, the jester' than 'me, the Amazon' furious with the destiny that has foisted this pain on her'. Do any of you take responsibility for forcing the events of this morning?" I growled. If they wanted to see the other side of the Janus, so be it."Had you chosen a Regency in the fucking weeks you've been bickering, Kwenhamai could have been dealt with privately. The fate of the Royal House could have been put off a few years. Had you not all been so dead-set on being heroines of the Host, three of you would have sacrificed your bloodlust, your birthright and the future accolades you could recite on your final night (before taking themselves to the cliff), but none of you did.""Instead, you set the stage for dumping all of your indecisiveness on the slender shoulders of a nine year old girl most of you had written off as too fractured and frail to survive her 12th year only three months ago. So Febe how do you like the honest 'me'?" I finished off furiously.It was not lost on anyone in the chamber I was an Amazon raging against the cruelty of fate. Every other bitch in the room knew they had discarded my daughter's life as trivial and I was prepared to unleash violence on the next one to show an ounce of disrespect over Aya's surrendering of her destiny and my grief at failing to find a way to stop this from coming to pass. St Marie had just reminded them that I was 'reliably" successful despite my handicaps. Not an enemy anyone in the room wanted any part of. Saku would have been proud.A Note:I have been remiss in informing my readers of the names of the 53 Houses, even though I created it some time ago. I have made a few alterations to the original version as I've had to rethink certain parts of this tale, but here is the list I now use.List of Goddesses:The First Twenty Houses in no particular order :1) Ishara, Oaths, Medicine and War (to North America) (died out 450 CE; Reborn in 2014)2)   (Deceased) Anat, Goddess of War, Fury and Blood Sacrifice (died out 6th cent. BCE) ~ possibly resurrected by Sakunyias3) Anahit, water, wisdom and war (to North America)4) Arinniti, Sun Goddess (to North America)5) Hanwasuit, Sovereign Goddess6) Illuyankamunus, Dragon God (to North America) (Special Case)7) Inara, the Hunter Goddess8)  au ka, fertility, War, healing9) Kamrusepa, Healing medicine magic (to Africa)10) Lelwani, Goddess of the Underworld (to Africa)11) Hapantali, Pastoral Goddess.12) Hatepuna, Sea Goddess (to India)13) Hannahannah, Mother Goddess14) Moirai, Fate15) Selardi, Lunar Goddess (to Africa)16) Nammu, Primordial Sea, sailing, sailors (to India) (to Indonesia)17) Uttu, Goddess of plants (to Africa)18) Lahar, Cattle Goddess (to Africa)19) Ereshkigal, Queen of the underworld (to India)20) Istustaya and Papaya, Twin Goddesses of Destiny (to North America)Additional Houses, founded in Europe:(Code: Sc = Scythian; T = Thracian, P, Phrygian, C = Celtic, R = Roman, Sl = Slavic)21) (Sc) Marda, the One-Eyed Goddess/Vengeance {fantasy creation}22) (Sc) Farānak, A Scythian Goddess also known as the Lynx Goddess and the Silent Huntress (Dora)23) (Sc) Stolgos, Monstrous Slayer of Greeks (known to the Greeks as the Gorgon Stheno) {semi-historical}24) (T) Cotyttia, Thracian Goddess of Sex, War and Slaughter (to North America)25) (T) Bendis, Thracian Goddess of the Moon and Hunting.26) (T) Semele/Rajah, Thracian Goddess of the Earth and Birth (to India)27) (T) Hylonome, Centaur Goddess28) (P) Cybele, Phrygians Earth Goddess on Lion's throne (to the Amazon)29) (C) Andraste, War Goddess; also Goddess of the Moon and Divination; 'the Rabbit Goddess'30) (C) Epona, Horses (to North America)31) (C) Cyhiraeth, Goddess of springs whose war cry precedes death (to Africa)32) (C) Maeve, War Goddess, the Enslaver of Men33)   (Deceased) (C) Nantosuelta, Earth, Fire and Fertility (died out 1st cent. BCE)34) (C) Artio, the Bear Goddess (to North America)35) (C) Nemain, Goddess of War and Panic36) (R) Minerva, Roman Goddess of War & Strategy37)   (Deceased) (R) Diana, Hunting and Archery (died out in India 16th cent. CE)38) (Sl)  iva, Love and Fertility49) (Sl) Morė, Goddess of harvest, witchcraft, winter and death (to North America)40) (Sl) Zorja, The twin Guardians (Evening/Morning Stars)41)   (Sl) Oźwiena, fame and glory (died out in 1944)42)   (Sl) Koliada, Sky Goddess and deity of sunrises/dawn (died out 17th cent CE)43) (F) Mielikki, Goddess of the Hunt44) (N) Ska i, giantess, Goddess of bow-hunting, skiing, winter, and mountainsAdditional Houses, founded in In dia:45) (I) Mookambika, Demon Slayers46) (I) Bhadra, Goddess of the Hunt (to Indonesia)47) (I) Meenakshi, The Liberator (Rhada and Madi's House)48) (I) Durga (Dark Mother) (to Indonesia)49) (I) Chandala Bhikshuki, Queen of Night, Death, Destruction and Rebirth50) (I) Jaya (Goddess of Victory)51)   (I) Chelamma, the Scorpion Queen (died out 16th cent.)Additional Houses, founded in Africa:52) (A) Oshun, (Yoruba Goddess of Love, Sexuality, Beauty and Diplomacy; Lady of the Orisha ~ life spirits)53) (A) Yemonja, Mother of Rivers (to the Amazon)54) (A) Oba, Goddess of Betrayal and Exile55) (A) Ox ssi, Goddess of Hunting, Forests, Animals and Wealth56) (A) Jengu, Goddess of Jungles and Water SpiritsAdditional Houses: founded in North America(NT = Native Tribal)57) (NT) Uusheenhiton (noo'uusooo' heeninouhuusei hitoniho') (Arapaho), Storm Horse Sister {fantasy creation}58) (NT) Gahe, Apache (supernatural spirits who live in the mountains)Prospective House:59) New, (Hittite) SzelAnya, the Dragon's DaughterCurrent Number of Central Houses:12 in North America (9+Ishara from Europe and 2 native)10 in Africa (6 from Europe and 5 native)3 in Amazonia (1 from Africa and 2 from Europe)8 in India (3 from Europe and 7 native)3 in Indonesia (2 from India and 1 from Europe)17 in Europe6 Deceased{7:35 am Sunday, September 7th ~ Last day}Right where we left offMy rage over Aya wasn't called into question or challenged. Practicality had trumped tradition in the inevitable Amazon fashion. The only one elevated in anyone's eyes was Aya. Krasimira's apparent political adventurism was probably hard for the others to deal with. But in context, only Mahdi, Katrina and Saint Marie had seen her denounce Hayden, so this seemed a new side of Krasimira to most people in the room.Krasimira wasn't the spiritual authority, that was Hayden. She wasn't the Generalissimo, that was Saint Marie. Katrina and I were both appointed officials, we retained our House status. Saint Marie would die a member of House Inara and join her ancestors with pride. Her litany of accomplishments were well known to the Host.But Krasimira? She would die a member of House Cybele unheralded. The Keeper of Records recorded the feats of others, not their own. Nearly two generations ago, a young Krasimira had joined the Keeper's House as a guardian to an un-remembered (save by her) augur. The augur passed and she took up other duties within the house.When the old Keeper faced her final months, she elevated Krasimira to her spot. High Priestess Hayden had approved the choice without really knowing who Krasimira was. (No one outside the House of the Keeper had personal bonds with her anymore.) Seamlessly, she had sat in the old Keeper's seat and the Council kept chugging along.For the past eight years, she had sat quietly at Hayden's side and only speaking when addressed. Mostly, she did nothing overt. The actual note-taking was done by an underling. The Keeper took her own private notes squirreled away in her mind, to be written when she was by herself. Those notes would be handed over to her successor, for the Keepers' eyes and theirs alone.I don't think Krasimira knew me in particular when she dutifully followed Hayden into these chambers the day my death, or life in a cage, was bantered about. It was the day we first crossed paths. She would have known of Shawnee's request for the tooth of an Isharan, though she lacked the authority to ask why. (She wasn't a voting member of the Council.)But when Shawnee made her claim, Krasimira hadn't balked in her support, despite the oddity of Shawnee's declarations, I was indeed Ishara and my sisters could not dispose of me. The outrage of the others meant nothing to her. She pursued her obligations with true Amazon fearlessness both inside and outside of the Council.On the night of the 2nd Betrayal, a Keeper had sat there in silence as her fellow Amazons, the Ash Men, were sentenced to an unjust death. She'd had neither the numbers nor the authority to alter events, what else could she have done?So the Keepers kept track of the names of nineteen 'unaccounted for' Ash Men. For what purpose? An episode of Amazon history no one would ever want to revisit? Yet in my hour of need, coming back 2,600 years was the name 'Vranus of Ishara', sitting only a few keystrokes away. No one, save a few Arinniti diehards, wanted to know the truth of the Amazon Ash Men; and even they didn't want to remember us as individuals. To them, Vranus existed as a notation on the secret Charter of the Arinniti Sons.To Krasimira, Vranus had been a living, breathing warrior of the Host, not even dead, still mythically fighting the enemies of our race because his death had never been officially recorded. With my appearance, I stood in mute testimony to his death, and that of his sons and their sons for a damn long time.Still, I hated playing catch-up.With the Amazon custom of adoption, had no one asked if another possible Isharan heritage still persisted?I would bet they had. And I'd bet they had sought for that knowledge in the Rolls of the Host, always finding that pathway devoid of hope. But if the Keeper had known, why had she kept quiet?Pride, shame, Krasimira's words: we show anger when we should show humility. We are proud of our shame. We are arrogant of our weaknesses. We have heaped insult upon insult on our ancestors, yet are now aghast that they turn away from us, I had confused her soliloquy with that of an accusation, not the long held understanding of her office.Even staring extinction in face, the modern Host hadn't truly accepted the answer, the line of Vranus. Faced with the truth, the Amazons would have 'forgotten' the descendants of Vranus all those centuries ago in the same way they 'forgot' all the other Ash Men on the day I was brought into the Host.But the Keepers did something more than maintain the rolls and records of the Amazons, more than watch over the augurs and make sure their messages made it to the proper ears. They safeguarded the truth. No matter what the Council decided and the High Priestess commanded, the Keepers remained honest stewards of the real history of the Amazons.Why?The Amazons were terribly practical and the truth could run contrary to the needs of political reality. Honesty wasn't a highly stressed Amazon virtue, loyalty was. So was bravery. And thus generation after generation of Keepers had lied to the Council and the High Priestesses. Every time those august personages had committed something to 'the nothingness', the Keepers had defied them and not forgotten.The first heads of the first twenty houses had surrendered their names for the unity of their people, but the Keepers remembered. All twenty of those women had been of the Amazon tribe of the Pala people living on the southern coast of the Black Sea when the Trojan Wars began. Over time, their true blood descendants had founded new houses and been adopted into others.Aya was truly a daughter of Kururiyahhssi; I had no doubt of that anymore. Had she not shared the same blood as the first Amazon, Krasimira wouldn't have brought Aya and Kwen together. Resurrecting an ancient tradition in a complicated fallacious coup attempt wasn't in her; nor was such a maneuver even a necessity. The Host would elect a Regency eventually and Saint Marie was handling the war in a highly competent fashion.So Krasimira hadn't sought out the heirs of Vranus, yet when one appeared, she welcomed 'him'. And when she stepped into the President's office with Hayden while waiting for me to be brought upstairs to face judgement that night, I imagined sending Hayden to the cliffs was the farthest thing from her mind.The rest were playing politics, gender politics, and couldn't see the truth staring Krasimira in the face. The truth was a bitch and didn't play favorites, or worry about the sensibilities of others. Krasimira had seen her sisters refusing to acknowledge the ugly reality they had created for themselves.Krasimira wasn't an advocate for Ishara, that was my job, and my crappy performance was something between Dot and me. She wasn't an advocate for the males and the New Directive. That was what Katrina was for. No, like a hundred Keepers before her, Krasimira was the silent sentinel for the Truth and, the Truth didn't care about anything but the Truth."The assassin is indeed in this room. Its name is Amazon was a rather grand pronouncement from the Chief Librarian, wasn't it? Krasimira didn't chastise Hayden. That wasn't her place. Technically, neither was she disputing Hayden's ability to rule.This wasn't the climax of a dinner-theater 'Who Done It'. The crime before the High Priestess was High Treason and I was the pre-ordained guilty party. My 'ally', Katrina Epona, had not been an advocate for my defense. No. Again in my Hour of Need it was Krasimira.Lacking any true authority, she had defied her sisters and made her definitive statement. What truly transpired was Krasimira staring Hayden straight in the eyes and saying 'you cannot lie your way out of this one, High Priestess. We (as in all the Keepers past and present) will not let you'.Had she used those words, Saint Marie would have gotten around to asking what Krasimira meant. Krasimira would have rather died, because once those bitches discovered their nerdy sisters hadn't erased a damn thing in 3,000 years, they would insist they do so immediately. Krasimira wasn't about to do that. Thanks to the chaos surrounding Hayden's departure, no one had confronted her over her crucial action.To put it more precisely, the Golden Mare had been too busy and Mahdi had been wrapped up in Hayden's Decree and the resulting pressure on the Heads of House to pick the Regency. Katrina was probably a case of I'm not going to ask you so you don't have to lie to me. The only other living person in the room when Hayden's fate was sealed was me, and I'd had my hands full as well.I had to think about what I should and could do. I couldn't beat her up over Aya anymore than I could punish my Isharans for their misplaced arrogance. I decided to extend a 'thank you'; and not only for myself, but for every conceited bitch who had ever sat at this table, or all the other physical mediums the Council had used before this one.We held three votes: The Council couldn't collectively decide on how to implement Aya's other likes (1), so they agreed on her suggestion for a Regency instead (2). The final vote was to set a date for the next Council meeting (3). A date within 9 days of the Winter Solstice with the Regency to decide the precise date and give the House Heads two weeks warning.The last calamity at the meeting was initiated by a question of etiquette."How do we address the Princess at Council meetings?" the Head of House Hanwasuit inquired of Krasimira."There is no precedent for addressing the Iwaruwa alone. By our laws, she is not truly Dumalugal Aya either. She is Nasusara," Krasimira responded. Queen."She is a child," a third House Head declared, "not an Amazon.""No," Mahdi shook her head. "A, Aya is 'un-casted'. She bears an honorific presented to her by the leader of an established stronghold (Summer Camp) and confirmed by the Golden Mare minutes ago.""Congratulations my mamētu me eda," I winked to my past and present Princess, "you've just become a single-digit aged teenager.""Go Aya," Daphne and Buffy whispered behind me. Aya raised her hand, waiting for Saint Marie's recognition.However, Saint Marie moved steadily forward, declaring: "Until the Regency alters my decision, I decline assigning anyone to the Iwaruwa (heiress) whose sole purpose would be to stop her from sneaking off to endure her 12th Year Test. I judge it to be better we know where we placed her as opposed to failing to outsmart her as she needlessly proves to the Host she is, in fact, already an Amazon of the Host." Aya lowered her hand.Thus,'Yes, Aya is an Amazon of the Host' and 'Aya will take her 12th Year Test because she wants to take it, won't let us talk her out of taking it and the rest of us had better accept it'."So, she is our Queen then?"No one appeared to have an answer. Aya raised her hand once more."Yes?" the Golden Mare smiled down at her."Am I in charge?" Aya's other hand squeezed Saint Marie's as she spoke in a barely audible voice."Perhaps.""If I was in charge, I would like it if there was a law that declared the Queen of the Amazons would be officially represented by a Regency until she becomes casted, and antedate the law by one hour so this never, ever comes up again," Aya kept looking up at Saint Marie."Aya," Katrina exhaled.The council chamber was a mixture of awe, resentment and amusement. If Aya was Queen, she could make such a law. The Queen-ship was a Bronze Age autocratic institution designed to provide leadership to a 'state' in near-constant warfare with is neighbors.It was guided by oral traditions and military necessity, not written laws. As long as the queens provided successes on the battlefield and through diplomacy, she was deemed fit to rule. The traditional way of choosing a House Head was the same for the Royal House, the ruling Queen chose an heir.In the long list of Queens, less than half had been the 'eldest' child. No, those ancient War Leaders picked the bravest, smartest and most successful daughters to succeed them. Their wisdom in those selections showed in the fact the Amazons had held off a male-dominated world for over 600 years before fatally marching off to answer an ally's call to fight in the Trojan War."I advise against it," Saint Marie shook her head. "You are young. You are also the only Royal we have. Duty demands and sisters must always answer their sister's call."Translation: Aya was an adult now. It was similar to the first lesson Pamela gave me upon learning I was Ishara. We lived with bitches, it doesn't pay to play nice with bitches."Thank you," Aya nodded. She was 'thanking' Saint Marie for the lesson, no matter how hard it was to accept. Krasimira coughed."Now that the matter is settled," she spoke. The matter wasn't settled. Krasimira was steamrollering the discussion. "What do we call you?", to Aya."I, oh," in a very small voice. Aya's brow furrowed and her tiny nose wiggled. "I wish to be known by the legacy of my Anna (mother) and Atta (me, Cáel). I will be Assiyai hamai.""Love song?" Daphne murmured to Buffy."Assiyai hamai?" Krasimira asked for clarification. 'Love-song' was hardly the name of a 'fierce' Amazon Queen."The only other name I could come up with was Markappidusmene, which seemed less auspicious," she meeped. Markappidusmene meant 'Tiny Smile'."Perhaps Talliyahulla would be more auspicious?" Saint Marie nudged Aya. 'War Cry'."Oh no!" Aya balked. "That's your job.""What do you think your job is?" the Golden Mare questioned, suddenly realizing she'd made the mistake of making assumptions where Aya was concerned."To go to the cliffs with twice as many Amazon daughters, each equal to the likes of Saint Marie, Katrina, Oneida, Buffy, Elsa, Kohar and Tad fi as exist today. We must not 'survive', or simply replenish our numbers."We must become stronger because the World is a terribly messed up place," she raised her wounded hand and splayed her digits for the others to see the two she was missing, "and has become too small for us to seek safety in hidden freeholds any longer. If we cannot hide, we must rule openly. We are Amazons. Having no equals, we must rule alone. The only people we can trust, really trust, are the sisters at our sides."My job is to advance my People's cause with both compassion and cruelty and I will do so alone, because the Amazon Queen has no equals, only daughters."Not a sound. I could count out the individual fan blades recycling the air."Let our enemies tremble," Saint Marie nodded, repeating an earlier declaration."Assiyai hamai," Krasimira intoned, making Aya's royal name official before adding, "Assiyai hamai, you are mistaken about one thing. You are not alone. You have a mamētu me eda.""Oh," she perked up, shedding the gloom which surrounded her. She looked at me, our eyes met and we both grinned, then she giggled...and yet again, up her hand went."Yes?" Saint Marie looked upon Aya respectfully and then at me with much suspicion."Is the mamētu me eda of my mamētu me eda also my mamētu me eda?" Aya asked.Just like old times, only Katrina was ahead of the game. "Oh, by Epona," the Spy-mistress snorted."Cáel Wakko Ishara, who is your mamētu me eda, oh no," Saint Marie bristled."Ah, indeed," Krasimira nodded. "An unlooked for bonus.""Does someone care to enlighten the rest of us?" the head of House Nemain prodded."Oh!" That was Elsa."That's right!" Oneida, she was definitely a fan of me and my spasmodic lifestyle."Wakko Ishara's mamētu me eda, other mamētu me eda, is Temujin, Great Khan of the Reborn Mongol-Turkish Khanate and ally of the Host," Saint Marie let them know. "They are bonded by Cáel risking his own life to save Temujin's. It is actually a privately understood and publically declared fact.""In Temujin's words to the international press when our Cáel and our new Queen were kidnapped : I believe Cáel is still alive. If he wasn't, we would be seeing piles upon piles of dead enemy around him and his 'boon companion', clearly visible from orbit. Until they discover this carnal pit from Hell, I am sure they are both still alive," Oneida added. Rhada flashed ill-distilled hate her way."Shawnee, is your Apprentice's mind addled with the birthing hormones of their child?" Mahdi snipped. That was merely a cultural zing, not an attempt to expose my sinister erotic misdoings. Unfortunately, she was somewhat correct. Okay, she was totally correct."That was uncalled for," Shawnee graciously chided Mahdi, thus demonstrating her ignorance of the facts soon to be in evidence."Yes, I am carrying a child of Arinniti and Ishara," Oneida proclaimed loud and proud. "We share a Warrior's Love."I wasn't really sure how anyone else reacted to the news because House Ishara exploded into violence. That is the politic way of saying Daphne and Juanita were trying to stop Buffy from beating me to death. Here was yet another Ishara-baby and it wasn't gestating inside her. I was too stunned to defend myself.And the old refrain: 'and then it got worse'."Ta  ah kattanda!" (IN HITTITE for 'you pig's ass'), Rhada howled. I missed her drawing her blade, vaulting to the top of the table and lunging at Oneida. Most of the Amazons in the room stood, yet held their ground.They weren't shocked into indecisiveness, only trying to understand the nature of the conflict before intervening. This was not the first 'your Amazon did something my Amazon found infuriating' public threat they had to have dealt with. Rhada was more volatile than the average woman of her breed and station, true, but a violent in-chamber assault?That wasn't the 'worse' though. Oneida drawing her blade in an open challenge to Rhada wasn't the worse either, nor was her shouting."He loves me! He merely saved you!"Saint Marie yelling 'Ishara! Ishara!' over and over again, demanding I put my house back in order wasn't the end of my woes, nope.Me being yanked free of my House fur-ball into the volcanic gaze of Elsa as she seethed, "Rhada?" Oh yeah, Elsa's people and Rhada's people had a bit of a blood feud going on, how could I have forgotten that?But wait!"Not Fabiola!" gasped Messina, bizarrely assuming I slept with, okay, not such a huge assumption."Gael?" voiced by the Head of House Bendis, followed by Gael's "I'm late.""Damn it!" I pulled away from Elsa (slightly)."No. She only lets me ejaculate on 'safe days'," to Messina, Fabiola's Mom."Oh, come on! We had sex one time!" to Gael of Bendis, and finally,"Stop it!" to Rhada and Oneida, (deep breathe). "Really?" with my most believable happy face plastered on. "This is great news!"No. No it wasn't, and I could read the ugly emotional undercurrents on the faces of everyone present, except Aya, who kept the faith."Ishara," Saint Marie rumbled. I held up one finger to forestall her wrath."Oneida, Rhada and I have already decided to name our daughter Parvati. My daughter by Tad fi, ordained by the Goddess to be the first born, will be named Shala while my first son will be called Harki heni (White Hair, I'd call him Raider when we were in the 'outside' world).""My daughter by Miyako Yuri will be named Suwais-urāni, Fushichou in her Mother's tongue, in honor of Sakuniyas. My, other relationships," I would have liked to say 'none of your business', except Amazon mothers, or not, those children would be of Ishara's blood and potentially their kin.

En esta edición de Chequia en 30' (18/03/2025): El Clementinum, fuente invaluable de datos climáticos | Veronika Valterová, una checa que se siente en casa viviendo con indígenas en Amazonia.

En esta edición de Chequia en 30' (18/03/2025): El Clementinum, fuente invaluable de datos climáticos | Veronika Valterová, una checa que se siente en casa viviendo con indígenas en Amazonia.

El río Chiriquí Viejo, es un río conocido de los habitantes de la provincia de Chiriquí y desde siempre ha sido significativo para el desarrollo de los diferentes asentamientos que se originaron a lo largo de la historia. Con la llegada del Plan Puebla Panamá (PPP) se da origen a una interconexión eléctrica (SIAPAC) que inicia en Veladero, distrito de Tolé, provincia de Chiriquí. En ese mismo periodos el gobierno de Panamá dispone la mayoría de los ríos para la generación eléctrica . A inicios del siglo XXI se originaron decenas de movimiento de base y comités ambientales por la defensa de los ríos en toda la provincia, pero a pesar de ello se Instalaron 8 hidroeléctricas en el Río Chiriquí Viejo. En este programa puedes escuchar algunos fragmentos grabados con un hidrófono en el que se escuchar la voz del Río Chiriquí Viejo y de cómo la va perdiendo, producto de la presencia de los proyectos hidroeléctricos. Música de introducción: - Burn Your Village to the Ground” de The Halluci Nation. Derechos de autor, propiedad de The Halluci Nation. Usada bajo su permiso. Música de fondo: - Ambientes sonoros grabados en Panamá y la Amazonia en Bolivia por el equipo de Cultural Survival. - Pieza musical del grupo Sotz'il. Guatemala. Usado con autorización. - Cantos grabado en Sumpango Sacatepuéquez con arreglos de Rosario Sul González. Usado con Autorización. Voz, producción, guión y edición: - Rosario Sul González, maya kaqchiquel, Cultural Survival, Guatemala. Grabación de ambientes sonoros: - Rosario Sul González, Maya Kaqchiquel, Guatemala. - Nati García, Maya Mam, Guatemala. - Jonathan González Quiel, Panamá. Imagen: - Jonathan González Quien, Panamá. Esta es una producción de Radio de Derechos Indígenas. Nuestros programas son gratuitos para escuchar, descargar y difundir.

With a line of amazing comics being released this year the ACP crew sat down with Sean Michael Robinson of Living the Line Books to talk about all their amazing work. From overlooked manga creators to up and coming illustrators making brain melting comics, this publisher is doing it all, the ACP are loving it and you will too! Its a fascinating, inspiring and joyous discussion about publishing comics you need to hear. All that and tons more comics to discover and check out, so check it out now! Great stuff to check out: Living the Line, Sean Michael Robinson, Plaza, Translator with No Talent, Mansect, EPHK, Mega City Book Club, Ragtime Soldier, Tribute Press, The Dry Cleaner, TBH Comics, Kieron Squires, Silence, Afterlight Comics, Lawless Comic Con, High Viz Comic Con, Shaolin Grandmaster Killer, Steroid Productions, Thomas Sluzalek, Amazonia, Cinebook, Grommets, Bone Parish, Boom Studios, Cullen Bunn, Gonad the Ballbarian

Damian Blasi is a professor at the Pompeu Fabra University in Barcelona. We talk about his article 'Over-reliance on English hinders cognitive science', linguistic diversity, how to study across the world's languages, his career path, and much more.BJKS Podcast is a podcast about neuroscience, psychology, and anything vaguely related, hosted by Benjamin James Kuper-Smith.Support the show: https://geni.us/bjks-patreonTimestamps0:00:00: Why Damian studied physics0:06:31: How to deal with small, sparse, incomplete, imbalanced, noisy, and non-independent observational data0:09:38: Evolutionary advantages of different languages0:14:01: How Damian started doing research on linguistics0:20:09: How to study a language you don't speak0:28:58: Start discussing Damian's paper 'Over-reliance on English hinders cognitive science'0:48:25: What can experimental scientists do about the vast differences between cultures, especially of difficult to reach peoples? And how different are languages and cultures really?1:10:15: Why is New Guinea so (linguistically) diverse?1:17:34: Should I learn a common or a rare language? And where?1:29:09: A book or paper more people should read1:32:31: Something Damian wishes he'd learnt sooner1:33:56: Advice for PhD students/postdocsPodcast linksWebsite: https://geni.us/bjks-podBlueSky: https://geni.us/pod-bskyDamian's linksWebsite: https://geni.us/blasi-webGoogle Scholar: https://geni.us/blasi-scholarBlueSky: https://geni.us/blasi-bskyBen's linksWebsite: https://geni.us/bjks-webGoogle Scholar: https://geni.us/bjks-scholarBlueSky: https://geni.us/bjks-bskyReferencesWorld Atlas of Languages: https://en.wal.unesco.org/world-atlas-languagesThe Andamanese group that's hostile to strangers: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sentinelese"the war situation has developed not necessarily to Japan's advantage" https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hirohito_surrender_broadcastBakker (2022). The sounds of life.Blasi ... Neubig (2021). Systematic inequalities in language technology performance across the world's languages. arXiv.Blasi ... Bickel (2019). Human sound systems are shaped by post-Neolithic changes in bite configuration. Science.Blasi ... Majid (2022). Over-reliance on English hinders cognitive science. Trends in cognitive sciences.Everett (2023). A myriad of tongues.Floyd ... Enfield (2018). Universals and cultural diversity in the expression of gratitude. Royal Society Open Science.Gordon (2004). Numerical cognition without words: Evidence from Amazonia. Science.Hossenfelder (2018). Lost in math.Koyama & Rubin (2022). How the world became rich.Nettle (1998). Explaining global patterns of language diversity. Journal of anthropological archaeology.Pica ... Dehaene (2004). Exact and approximate arithmetic in an Amazonian indigene group. Science.Skirgård ... Gray (2023). Grambank reveals the importance of genealogical constraints on linguistic diversity and highlights the impact of language loss. Science Advances.

On the Road to Aya.Cael becomes the Amazon's Unorthodox Global DiplomatBy FinalStand. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.For me, the diplomacy revolved around Delilah and Virginia, I had already fallen on my knees and begged Odette to let me go see Aya 'alone'. A few sexual-charged hours later, she agreed. That left four choices for the role of my two agents. They wanted to go 'as is'. Rachel informed them they would be murdered in-flight and their bodies tossed out over a convenient body of water.Rachel felt that the only reasonable course of action was for them to not come. That way the two could live a few more weeks. However, she would settle for stripping them down, doing a full body scan and then sealing them naked in airtight coffins (with a suitable amount of oxygen) for the journey. I suspected they might still slip out the baggage compartment somewhere between takeoff and landing.I cut through the clash of egos and made the final decision. Delilah and Virginia would be stripped and thoroughly examined. Initially I had the chore. Rachel was deeply suspicious of my true intentions. Freed of any electronic devices and with their weaponry in my keeping during the trip, they would be blindfolded as we made it to Aya without bloodshed.They applauded my wisdom by roundly refusing my decision. Pamela was of no help. Ten minutes into it, I informed them I was going alone, completely alone. They laughed, snorted and chuckled. Rachel reminded me that I didn't know where to go. I lied and told her that Katrina had given me the coordinates for the super-secret juvenile, all-feline [yes, I meant cats], survival training school.Fine, they would just keep me under constant surveillance. I responded by assuring them that despite my lack of spy-like abilities, I would escape and get to relive my Summer Camp experience with the only woman who respected my Demigod-like combat status. Their laughter hurt my feelings. Pamela stepped up and told the room they could either respect my compromise, or she would help me evade them.It was even more depressing to see the room full of women who had previously been mocking me suddenly 'snap to' and quickly agree to my earlier suggestions."It is okay," Pamela told me softly as the actual mechanics of my vacation were figured out by others. "I didn't want to play Bill Munny to your Ben Logan."Pamela's eyes flared brighter than any phoenix's rebirth. She'd stumped me."The Unforgiven, my Son," she patted my cheek. "It is a western made in 1992 starring Clint Eastwood, recast masterfully by 'Yours Truly' and, we need to work on you making a convincing Morgan Freeman.""Doesn't Freeman end up in a pinewood box in the first third of the movie?" Virginia mused."I didn't want to dishearten him," Pamela grinned. To me. "He ran off alone and got himself killed.""I was what, not even a year old when that movie came out," I responded with indignation."You've never heard of Block Busters, Netflix, Redbox, Dish, Hulu, or late night, Spanish language television?" Pamela snickered."I only watch Univision for their sports coverage," I countered."You mean for those sexy female sports announcers," Delilah chuckled. That earned her a 'well duh' look from all the other women."Before I consent to the strip search and inevitable follow-up anal probe, are we really going to be in a situation that requires us to fight this time?" Virginia asked."We should be perfectly safe," Rachel responded."Check, bring extra ammo," Virginia nodded."Good for you, Ms. Maddox," Pamela winked. "One day there is hope your life will have some meaning to me.""Great," Special Agent Maddox muttered, "now I have to think of what to get her for Christmas." We all laughed. Christmas was such a long way away.We packed up, rode to a private airfield near Doebridge, learned that SD was smarter than the rest of us, boarded our flight, and then finally entered US airspace from there. Around Ohio, a thought occurred to Maddox."If we were somehow forced to land and have the plane searched, how bad would it be?" she requested of Rachel."Bad enough that we have a better chance of fighting our way free than seeing freedom before dying in prison," Rachel answered calmly."Hmm, Rachel, if something like that happened, how many parachutes do we have?" Delilah joined in."Enough. Mona rides down with Cael because he's a virgin," Rachel stated."Oh! Come on Rachel," I fell down on my knees. "Can't I bungee jump it?""Luv," Delilah snorted. "If the drop didn't kill ya, the bounce back would snap you in two.""Cáel, we are at thirty thousand feet," Tiger Lily giggled. "You are more likely to end as a streamer than a pancake." An Amazon giggle, a most joyous noise."Rachel, I have been unkind," Virginia confessed. "Cáel is so personable and so dead set on getting himself killed. I had no idea your assignment was so herculean.""Acknowledged," Rachel said, "and we don't use 'that' word." Hercules was Greek too."We have it worse," Delilah patted Maddox on her shoulder. "We must obey some sort of legal code that doesn't allow us to preemptively save him.""We must too," Rachel gave a depressive sigh. "Her," she pointed at Pamela."Hey," Pamela pouted. "I'm more a force for vigilante justice than a team player. I ride alone.""Alone?" I took a quick headcount and added our Amazon pilot. "I count ten, Lone Phaser.""Am I included in that count?" Miyako yawned from under her blanket. "This jet lag is killing me.""Where did she come from?" Virginia hopped up."She was here when we boarded," I told her. "I searched her, I swear.""Yes he did," Miyako gave a sleepy, Hello Kitty smile. She'd 'searched' me too."I bet you did," Rachel glared at me, then Pamela, then me again since I was the titular boss.Thankfully we all 'bought a vowel', played a card in Clue, and shared an Inspector Clouseau moment. The gang settled down for a nap. Sleeping was not complicated. Rachel, as my bodyguard, slept beside me. The airplane's touchdown was so flawless I had to be shaken to alertness. Did I fall asleep? More on that later.It would have been better if Virginia hadn't figured out our pilot had violated numerous FAA regulations, like dropping below radar at one remote airport then sailing along for an unknown number of kilometers at nape of the Earth until we reached our final destination (This is great in date flicks, btw. It convinces the girl that we should 'live in the moment'/screw as much as possible.)We weren't there yet, of course. That level of un-convoluted thinking would have been an Amazon indicator of senility. Being a male Amazon, I was immune to such considerations, that meant I was always nuts in their regard, but they chose to humor me. Our plane had to park in a camouflaged hangar before we were allowed to disembark.I concluded we must be getting close to our desert gulag/re-education center as the sharp glare of sunlight was accompanied by an equally heartless glare of hostility rolling forth from our waiting all-terrain vehicle caravan. Thank goodness Rachel had the foresight to bring sunscreen for the passel of us. I swallowed the bitter realization I'd lost a $1000 bet concerning our landing zone with Virginia (a Temperate Rainforest) and Delilah (the American Southwest). In retrospect, betting on the site of 'Camp Rock' wasn't my smartest wager.The Brit made off with $2000 of our money and she wanted to be paid in Euros. That's €778 from me, you offspring of those who didn't have the courage to cross the Atlantic 100 years ago. Neither Virginia nor I really cared. With the level of violence about to escalate, it was all looking like 'funny' money to us. I didn't share my misery. Our Welcome Wagon ladies hardly looked sympathetic, or all that opposed to utilizing scalping as a valid debating tool.They didn't view this moment as just a bad thing, me showing up. My arrival was apocalyptic: #1, a man. #2, with a member of another secret society. #3, #2 was a professional assassin. #4 and #5, two more outsider women. #6, an unscheduled visit, as in 'the camp guardians hadn't been given six months to plan out all contingencies'. And you think your daycare takes its security seriously?"Cáel Ishara," the curt, mega-harsh bitch addressed me in English. As the other seven women dismounted from the four Jeep Wranglers (Delilah enlightened us), it was obvious they were well armed and armored, right and ready to provide some extra-curricular para-military fun. "Welcome," and 'oh please tear out one or two of my fingernails you Ginormous Pain in my ass' she greeted the exalted me. We spoke in Hittite;"I am”, then I used a phrase which I hoped meant 'I had shed blood in battle with sister Aya'. "No other name means more to me right now." Ah, the lovely jerk that full-blooded Amazons gave the first time they heard a male speak their tongue. The slot machine of her intellect kicked into high gear. No arm grasp was coming my way. I almost forgot."The outsiders are to remain armed as guests of House Ishara." That command was crucial. When/if I got my way with my first request, I was going to be rendered 'one of the girls'."If that is your wish. (Evil grin) Grab your bags and make it snappy," the woman ordered. "I don't like any extended activity at this airfield.""Ladies, let's hurry up and get our bags," Pamela barked in English. "You too, you hairless ape." That would be me, if there was any question. The Super-friendly camp counselors, with their slung FN P90's, didn't lift a finger to help us. Miyako flounced around without a care in the world. Pamela, eh, there were only eight of them. Three of my SD group were cautious while the pilot was already effecting her refueling and departure.Rachel shot one of the guardians a look I perceived to be friendly. A double-take elucidated things. She was Rachel's younger sister and had already been updated on my bona fides. Then in Hittite;"Male, you are agreeable to the eye," Rachel's sister fired off. Three whole seconds."Why thank you. I run faster than you would think, thankfully heal even faster and have the venerated outdoor skills of Bigfoot," I smiled.The seven other ladies weren't sure what to make of that jocularity."A very, very young Bigfoot," Rachel corrected."There is nothing wrong with the size of his feet," Tiger Lily added to the fun. And then all the homicidal fanatics chuckled.Pamela's whispered translation brought a subdued, yet similar reaction from the non-Amazon contingent. Sure, the new group knew about the New Directive, my fun encounters which I equated to my life and death struggle in those earlier days, my rise to house leadership, Constanza's blinding, the grenade launcher episode and the totality of my last confrontation with Hayden. Amazons are some hard-ass bitches.As we were loading up the jeeps, the leader tapped me on the shoulder with some force, in the same way a teacher catches an unruly student's attention."What was sex with an augur like? My name is Caprica Mielikki.""Out of respect for your authority, I will answer this personal question that is really none of your business," I looked down a good ten centimeters at her. No fear."It was beautiful, like every other woman I have had the treasured pleasure to have sex with," I continued. My reply's undercurrent was simple: I am not a House Head while I'm here. I am an Amazon, not a slave, or outsider male."Did you suffer stigmata?""Yes. To be fair, I was also having intercourse with her personal guardian at the same time. I'm not sure where to lay the blame, or importance," I inhaled her rugged fragrance."Both?" a different camp counselor questioned."As I told you, he has a really big and craftily-wielded foot," Tiger Lily teased, then Pamela said in Hittite;"And he is banned from having sex with any Amazon women for fifty more days," Pamela reminded them. Miyako, Delilah and Maddox weren't involved so were left uninformed of that detail. That bludgeoning innuendo dealt with, off to camp we went. Our journey was a pleasant diversion, punctuated by our trail, or lack thereof.The jeeps split up once we hit the aerial cover of the desert pines. At that point, every rock, shrub, tree and loose bit of debris revealed its God-given mission in life was to kill us. I kept telling myself that surely our Amazon driver abhorred suicide as much as I frowned on vehicular manslaughter as a means of me dying.Failing to believe that left me with tuck, duck and roll and that death-defying move would leave me lost and waterless, somewhere. I would have thought 'somewhere without cell reception', but none of our mobile devices had made the trip, despite a valiant effort at skullduggery by Special Agent Maddox and some highly creative types back at the Hoover Building.See, after we dutifully packed all our gear, the troupe got to watch Rachel's team toss everything into a cargo bin set to be loaded onto a flight to, the ticket said Banjul, Gambia. Woot! My ten ton armored long coat was going to Africa without me. It would have undoubtedly have tried to kill me in this heat. I was lured into acceptance by hoping this was going to be a 'birthday suit' flight.Yay! (Sarcasm) We got all new undies, shirts, shoes, pants, shorts, jackets, ponchos (I was beginning to suspect duplicity on that one), and a variety of other gear, including guns. They were nice enough to replace our weapons with the exact same production models. The sole exceptions were my trusty axes and I trembled at the scrutiny they must have endured.Meanwhile, back to my archaic, misogynistic inspiration that women shouldn't be allowed to drive: after the third skirting of what must have been a ten meter drop, I realized I was looking at this journey in the wrong light. I raised my hands over my head and began screaming like a fool. I was on the best rollercoaster ride ever!!The hobnail boot was on the other foot. My driver really wanted to know what the fuck I was up to, but couldn't take her concentration off the terrain. One massive lurch planted us in an arroyo (that's a dry riverbed for those of us who aren't freaked out every time it rains). Rachel and I were sitting in the back. Turning around in the front seat, Pamela grinned at me."I dare you to surf the hood," she laughed. Sweet Mother Ishara, that was the best mixing of 'you must be a redneck'/'immortal high schooler madness' I'd ever heard. I unbuckled milliseconds before Rachel could stop me. Her look said it all. 'Please, you Moron, don't do this to me. I've been a good little guardian and really don't deserve this, now do I?'I gave her a deep French kiss. She moaned, just not in a sexual manner. One of these days Rachel was going to start running around with a needle and fast acting sedative to keep me safe from myself. Understand, my driver was racing down this dirt, well, "pathway" was being generous. Her first warning that something wasn't right was me hand-standing on the roll bar and flipping onto the dashboard.Considering I was up against a 70 kilometer headwind, I felt I pulled off that maneuver rather well. She grabbed my closest ankle with one hand while keeping the other on the wheel. Our eyes were masked with goggles, but my smile said it all. No, I hadn't been thrown forward, and no, I wasn't running away from something in the back seat.I shook free, stepped over the windshield, braced my right heel against its base and leaned into the torrent of air. I was surfing a jeep. Then I was flying above the jeep, but only for a second. We'd hit a rock the size of an armadillo, or maybe it was an actual armadillo. I wasn't looking back to check. Why was I doing this? It was a tad complex. I gave Psych 101 a shot.My life was not where I had envisioned it would be when I kissed Dr. Kimberly Geisler, and my last two Bolingbrook girlfriends, who had been unaware of each other until that moment, good-bye before leaving college forever. I proudly considered myself amoral. No social contract would keep me from some good cunt, and since I found all cunt to be good if you worked at it, I slept with every girl I could, married, committed, bored, desperate, I didn't care.I held no relationship sacred. I had already proved I could do any girl's mother, daughter, aunt, roommate, childhood friend and total stranger. I hadn't cared. I knew I was going to cause multiple women emotional pain and I did it anyway. Sure, I regretted the agony I left in my wake.I never considered myself a sadist, but I had been a pretty horrible person by ignoring the inevitable consequences of my actions. Then Havenstone. Suddenly people were doing bad stuff to people I didn't know and it mattered to me. I was talking to women without the end goal being a sexual encounter.Hell, I had been honest to women without them using pain, or the threat of pain, on me. I didn't stop being me. I nailed four women at Loraine's, Europa's and Aya's school. I nailed Nicole while waiting for Trent to toss me his social table scraps, Libra. A whole army of women engaged in murder, slavery and infanticide on a regular basis, and I cared for them.I cared for them in a way that confronted damnation, not sexual adventurism. I had graduated from 'Dude, don't do that to the lady' at some bar to 'do this and I'll have you killed' and meaning it, and making it happen. I hadn't learned my lesson. I'd gone on to kill Hayden and Goddess-knows how many other women who Hayden had placed on that list.Yep, dead, dead, dead and it was all on me. Worse, I would do it all over again because deep down, tearing up my insides, was morality. To me that boiled down to caring about someone else without reward. And all that led me to surfing the hood of a jeep on my way to meet my lodestone of this transformation, Aya.My laughter was drowned out by the noises of the engine, tires, rocks, wind and sand. It resonated all the more. The driver didn't slow down. I sincerely doubted she understood my lunacy. That was okay. Pamela did and Aya would. She'd want to go jeep surfing too. Man, for a jackass and dastardly betrayer, I was accumulating a sizable heart-load of people I could honestly say I loved.Kimberly had once told me that the pain of knowledge is never being able to forget it. Good, or bad, it is an affliction for which there is no cure. That was where I was, pained by the creeping advancement of my soul and unable to turn back now that the door to familial affection had been opened.My thoughts of Dad dying and of a thunderstorm burst in my noggin weren't being terribly helpful to my mental state either. The horn blew and I snuck a quick peek back. The driver was making a sharp, forward jabbing motion with her right hand, then thrusting to the left. We were getting ready to exit the arroyo and that probably required some hellish footwork far beyond my ability.I made a hasty, less dignified, yet safer return to my seat. Rachel quickly buckled me in before a rapid turn up and over the bank of the river bed had us heading for another forested area."What was that all about?" Rachel asked once we were back into the tree cover. She'd have asked earlier but she was too busy clenching and unclenching her jaw in frustration.

*) Entre os vários recados dados por Donald Trump na posse e no inicio de mandato, está com certeza a ideia de uma politica de, digamos, expansão de território dos Estados Unidos. Trump já deixou clara as pretensões (pelo menos no discurso) de tomar o Canal do Panamá e até a Groenlândia, ilha que pertence hoje à Dinamarca. É claro que não apareceram nas falas de Trump quaisquer menções à uma área que, em outras oportunidades, já esteve no foco de discursos: a Amazônia. Reportagem publicada recentemente pela Gazeta do Povo mostra que as razões de Trump para retomar o Canal do Panamá, anexar o Canadá e a Groenlândia não se estendem à floresta brasileira, embora líderes americanos e europeus já tenham manifestado, há tempos, o desejo de dominarem recursos naturais da região sob o pretexto da preservação ambiental.Esse episódio do podcast 15 Minutos fala sobre os planos de expansão de Donald Trump e o olhar internacional para a Amazônia. O convidado para falar do assunto é o Renan Ramalho, da equipe de República, que assina a reportagem sobre o tema. 

  What a great way to start off the new year! Jumping right in with this excellent mix from friend of the show, Andy McNeill. Andy records as Maple Mountain Sunburst and he released a wonderful album last year - https://maplemountainsunburst.bandcamp.com/album/ecstatic  He also did a guest mix for us last year which you can find here - Mixcloud  &  Low Light Mixes Blog. My favorite discovery in this mix is the third track, "My Dog's Eyes" by Zammuto. I am blown away each time I hear it. One of my favorite track of 2024 is also included in the mix - Andy's own "Pop-a-matic." So good! The rest of the mix a great as well.  Here's what Andy says about his latest creation: "Cycles, patterns and joy in repetition. I'll paraphrase redditer Waves_of_awesome who said strongly repetitive music has the ability to transport the listener to a meditative state. “… repeating passages echo like a mantra, almost hypnotizing you”. It's a fundamental yet unpremeditated element in my musical endeavours. A lot of different genres represented here — not really intentionally, I just wanted to include some favourites and influential tracks. But wait where's O Superman? It's Gonna Rain? I guess we'll have to do a part two. I hope you all enjoy the journey."  -  Andy >>>Links to all the music used in this mix

Envíame un mensajeTenemos exclusivo video y fotos de recientes reuniones (ceremonias) en Iglesias Católicas de Puerto Rico donde una laica misionera de la Amazonia ha estando llevando a la Pachamama ( madre tierra). Luis Román nos explica junto a Dr. César Félix Sánchez.Support the show YouTube Facebook Telegram Instagram Tik Tok Twitter

Sebastian Copeland is a polar explorer, climate analyst, photographer and author. In 2017, he was named one of the world's top 25 adventurers of the last 25 years.  Noted as a photographer “who has produced works that are of outstanding artistic merit and communicates messages of urgent global significance,” Sebastian has led numerous record-setting expeditions, documenting the endangered Polar regions while covering more than 10,000 km on skis over the ice. Since 2000, he has warned of systemic transformations taking place in the polar regions and their geo- economic consequences. Sebastian has addressed audiences at the United Nations, institutions and governments globally, as well as Fortune 500 companies, about the urgent need for a market transformation towards a sustainable economy. He is a fellow of The Explorers Club, and member of the International Glaciology Society, the American Polar Society, and a founding member of Artists for Amazonia. Sebastian's books have sold in over 70 countries. He was named four times Photographer of the Year, including twice in 2020 (IPA and TIFA) for Antarctica: The Waking Giant (Rizzoli 2020). In 2024, he released his sixth monogram titled: The Arctic: A Darker Shade of White (Rizzoli) with a foreword by Dr. Jane Goodall. In 2018, Sebastian received a Bambi award in Germany, in the “Our Earth” category. He was named a Knight twice by the French government: in the National Order of Merit, and in the Order of Arts and Letters. Our guest on episode 228, Sebastian returns to the program to quickly revisit his one way ticket destination before talking about his sensational new book, The Arctic: A Darker Shade of White (Rizzoli). In the course of the conversation, we cover: The changes in the Arctic and its impact on our lives outside the region Svalbard Global Seed Vault The Arctic as home to some of the oldest known life-forms (FYI: In 2011, scientists discovered 750-million-year-old bacteria trapped in ice)  His approach to taking award-winning photos (and the importance of patience in the process) How icebergs are like people The wildlife found in the Arctic The connection between the peoples of the Arctic and the landscape, and the strains placed on their maintaining their traditional way of life Dr. Jane Goodall writing the forward to the book and her influence on his work Tourism's impact on the polar regions What we all can do to help the environment.  The Arctic: A Darker Shade of White made the NYT & the New York Post Best Holiday Gift Guide lists! 

Según el último censo, en la Amazonia brasileña viven 868.000 indígenas. Los yanomami son más de 30.000. Hasta 1940 no se produjo su primer contacto con foraneos pero las políticas de los diferentes gobiernos y la impunidad con la que los buscadores de oro y las empresas madereras trabajan en la Amazonia deja sin un lugar para vivir a casi un millón de personas solo en Brasil. Hablamos con Fiona Watson, directora de investigacion y campañas de Survival; Ehuana Yaira Yanomami, artista, activista e investigadora yanomami y Virgílio Afonso da Silva, profesor de Derecho Constitucional en la universidad de Sao Paulo.Escuchar audio

La escritora peruana Andrea Ortiz de Zevallos publicó en 2024 con editorial Tusquets Madre de Dios título que se inspira en un departamento de la República de Perú. La historia que cuenta nos lleva a la explotación ilegal de esa zona y las repercusiones que esto tiene en sus pobladores, los guardianes de una de las zonas naturales con más biodiversidad en el mundo. Su pasión por su país y su gente la ha llevado a otros proyectos como Despensa Amazónica que recupera las costumbres culinarias e ingredientes de la Amazonia para difundirlas y a la vez protegerlas. Otro de sus libros es La mudanza imposible, una colección de cuentos en donde la figura de la madre está muy presente. Es documentarista por lo que ha ganado varios premios y escribió el guion de cine Muerte en el Festival.

(Conversation recorded on September 25th, 2024)     The Amazon Rainforest is one of the Earth's most vital systems, playing a key role in maintaining the balance and stability of our climate. Yet this extraordinary ecosystem, which influences global rainfall patterns and regulates temperatures, is increasingly threatened by human activity. What is the current status of the ancient Amazon Rainforest, and how could its trajectory shape the entire planet for thousands of years to come?  In today's episode, Nate speaks with Earth scientist Carlos Nobre to explore the critical challenges facing the Amazon. They delve into the rainforest's unique ecological dynamics, the devastating impact of deforestation and wildfires on its ability to function, and how the health of the Amazon directly influences the climate of the entire world. In what ways does the astounding biodiversity of the Amazon play critical roles in its resilience, and how is that biodiversity being put at risk? How could a system that has sustained its own water cycles for millions of years suddenly tip into a self-drying savanna? Finally, what actions should countries – beyond the Amazonia region itself – take to support the conservation and restoration of the world's largest rainforest and the people that call it home?    About Carlos Nobre: Carlos A. Nobre is an Earth Scientist from Brazil, currently associated with the University of São Paulo. He is also the co-chair of the Science Panel for the Amazon-SPA. He obtained his PhD in Meteorology at MIT. Nobre's work mostly focuses on the Amazon and its impact on the Earth System. He chaired the Large-Scale Biosphere-Atmosphere Experiment in Amazonia (LBA). He is a foreign member of the US National Academy of Sciences and the Royal Society, and member of the Brazilian Academy of Sciences and the World Academy of Sciences. He was awarded several prizes including the Volvo Environmental Prize, the AAAS Science Diplomacy Award and AAAS Fellow Award. He also developed the Amazonia 4.0 initiative, an innovative project to demonstrate the feasibility of a new socio-bioeconomy of standing forests and flowing rivers in the Amazon.   Show Notes and More Watch this video episode on Youtube   ---   Support The Institute for the Study of Energy and Our Future Join our Substack newsletter Join our Discord channel and connect with other listeners  

Women making bad decisions. Cáel to the rescue? What? In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. “There is nothing wrong being a Lucky Bastard. It is wrong to rely on it.” They were all psychopaths and murderers after all, so death was becoming a vocational hazard. Me refraining from having as many sexual liaisons as possible wasn't realistic. I wasn't going to be willingly castrated and that was the only way out. The one benefit I could see was me working in a target-rich environment. "Now that I have had my turn stymieing Cáel's chaotic yet well-meaning attempts to educate us in the dangers and rewards of free-ranging masculinity," Tessa regarded the assembly, "I am getting out with my victory intact. Good luck, Sisters. You'll need it." Tessa exited, order was restored and; oh yeah, Elsa had brought me here for a sadistic love-fest, sans the sex. "I don't know what to make of you," Elsa smiled warmly, "I don't understand you and I find you to be very interesting." Let me make this clear; all three of those statements can be very bad, or very good. 'I don't know what to make of you' means I want to make it with you. 'I don't understand you' is 30% bad and 70% good. When bad, it is a prelude to a break-up. What she means is 'you aren't trying to understand me', thus the end of the relationship. On the beneficial side it means 'I've totally bought into your seduction and I'm ready to screw'. Ah, 'interesting'. Two types of women find a man 'interesting'; women who have to have you, and stalkers. Somewhat redundant. The main difference is how they respond to the Restraining Order and how much fun the erotic side of the relationship will be. The first kind of woman has a public screaming fit if you take out a RO on her. Let them build up to an incinerating level, then fuck them; it's so worth it. Stalkers ignore ROs. That's okay. Now you can legally trap them. They'll do whatever you want. Not because they are afraid of you. It is an RO for God's sake; one night in jail, maybe. No, they'll do whatever sex act you request because that's why they are stalking you in the first place; the sensual/emotional connection. When she starts making bizarre requests of you, subtly direct her to another 'more interesting' guy. Try not to use a friend. That's kind of cold. For the next few weeks, make sure the latest victim doesn't end up as a Missing Person. After that, you've done your civic duty so you can move on guilt-free. "Elsa, I need ten minutes to stretch first," I requested. She nodded. Off came the shirt. I retreated to a gymnastics mat and began stretching out my kinks. Five minutes in, I did one of my favorite maneuvers; the backwards human bridge completed when your wrists touch the Achilles tendons. Not only does this extended your abdominal muscles, it exhibits your hard-on and suggest all kinds of pages from the Kama Sutra are, in fact, possible. My performance highlighted my musculature, flexibility and numerous scars. My left thigh still had a light bandage wrapped around it. Whatever the Amazon medics were using was working gangbusters on me. Elsa had retreated to her end of the mat so I glided to my axes then promptly got off the mat. I didn't trust any Amazon, not even Aya and I'd let my heart be cut out if it would save her life. I got the feel for these axes, spun them around a few times then made to get back on the mat. "Put the loops around your wrist," Elsa directed. "Why?" I retorted. We were back to 'why are we letting a male question our orders.' "You are not allowed to throw them," Elsa allowed. I nodded. I didn't loop them. No, I walked onto the mat, weapons held axe-head down. I walked in five steps, knelt and placed the axes on the mat by my side. "Cáel, defend yourself," Elsa stated firmly. "Which is it? Do I defend myself and I act in a manner allowed by axe-work, or do I accede to your demands and be automatically defeated?" I responded. "Do you believe my spear technique is that superior to your own, made-up style?" Elsa smirked. "I think you are cheating. Worse, I think you are being a bully. If you want this to be the 'Elsa is a Bad-Ass' show, congratulations, you've won. I'm not going to fight you. I kneel before you, weapons on the mat, acknowledging that your cheating ways have defeated me," I mocked. "Savor this magnificent victory." "Your opinion of my martial prowess is not what is at question here today," Elsa spoke. I stood up, turned away and walked off the map, interrupting the rest of her speech. She was coming for me this time. I opened my towel, took out my phone and began texting away. "What are you doing?" Ngozi rumbled. *Buffy; job complete. Need to shower before next mission in queue* I hadn't hit 'send' yet. "Please correct me if I'm wrong. This was supposed to be a weapon's exhibition. That implies a study of your opponents training and capabilities. Elsa's prowess, along with my own, are the question here to today," I insisted. "Otherwise it is a waste of time for every non-sadist here." "Is it absolutely crucial that you throw an axe at Elsa?" Traska questioned. "No. It is absolutely crucial that Elsa fight under the handicap that I might throw an axe," I instructed her. "It changes the range dynamic. If I can hit her from; oh, five meters out, she has to keep close. If she has to keep close, my axes can engage her hand-to-hand." "Since Elsa chose a long spear, throwing it is clumsy, thus reducing her options," I stated. "Any range over six meters and she can probably dodge, or deflect, my throw. So we are both range limited, as it should be for a good exhibition." "I bow you reasoning," Elsa gave me a respectful nod of the head. Fucker; she liked me more, not less, despite my verbal reticence. We went to our corners. I charged first. Oh God; Elsa was super-great at spear. Less anyone forget, the spear has not only a sharp point; it also has a 20 cm bladed surface on each side plus a sold, oak shaft for blocking, poking and smacking. Elsa swung the spear around her body in lightning quick arcs. She could fight long shaft, or short shaft, as the range dictated. Long shaft was like fighting a dagger on a stick; cut and thrust. Short shaft was mainly thrusting, but was good for holding me back if I got inside her 'long' guard. Elsa's advantages were life-long experience, tons of natural talent, and being quicker than me. Our staminas were evenly matched. The drain of Elsa's fluid style equaled my two-weapon use. I had her in bulk and brawn. Elsa and I were at the top of the spectrum for our respective genders; physically and mentally better off than the majority. This meant I had her on brute strength and reach. That was genetics talking. My only other advantage was the uniqueness of my style. Elsa hadn't faced it before, though I'm sure she'd watched Constanza and Crewe's fight with me on video. Elsa figured out quickly that a left-handed battle axe made a poor shield. It covered far less area and took more energy and concentration for the assaulted to defend themselves. As soon as she put that bit of knowledge into her arsenal of tricks, I showed her another one. An axe is an axe, and when she slapped that spear against my guard one too many times, my right-handed axe chopped into the shaft, severing the spear blade from the rest of the spear. This was the point where an Amazon would have pressed the attack. I was deciding to take as little of a beating as possible. I fell back, knelt and put my axes down. There was a hush. "Elsa, do you wish to retrieve another spear?" I inquired. This was an exhibition after all. Actually, this was Elsa proving she was better than me, but she a script to stick to. "To your starting place," Elsa commanded. "Get some water." I picked up my axes and withdrew; backwards. Oneida had crept around to my side. "I know what you did this morning," Oneida gave me some water to drink. "It was very clever of you to send me away for my safety. It makes me adore you even more." I reached out with one finger and poked her nose. "You're silly," I sighed. "No," she giggled like a school girl. I was going to Hell for this one. "You are an 'Ash Man' reborn. I read about it." I had no clue that was and Elsa was waiting. The rest was pre-ordained. I got a few light cuts while not leaving a mark on Elsa. I scored major points by disposing of Elsa's second spear though I lost both axes in the endeavor. She swept my feet out from under me, I rolled away from her follow up kick and quickly went to my knees, palms flat on the mat and head lowered. Only the mentally handicapped would have thought I'd won any part of the martial contest. I'd drawn the first time. My ability to defeat Elsa with the equivalent of a staff was undecided. I had been disarmed and disarmed Elsa the second time; technically a draw, but it wasn't. Why? Because Elsa had been trying NOT to kill me, or even injury me (too much). I had been doing the same. If by some calamity I'd killed Elsa, I would have been lucky to fall on my own axes before the crowd butchered me. No, mine had been an amateur effort. I had missed Elsa mostly because I never got close. Elsa had to hold back from slicing me up and running me through. Elsa walked right up to me; I mean Right up to me. She tapped my head, indicating I should look up. There was her cunt maybe 2 inches away with only her skintight shorts between us. "As this demonstrates, we need to continue to work and update our styles," Elsa addressed the throngs. "Cáel put forth his usual exceptional effort; for the gifted amateur that he is." "Thank you for your attention today, my sisters," Elsa concluded. End of lesson. Traska picked up her medical kit and came my way. Oneida and a half dozen other Amazons closed in as well. Elsa didn't move a millimeter. Her fragrance wafted in my face. When Traska tried to shift me around so she could better access my wounds, Elsa stopped me with her hand on my head. Traska found it odd for a second then they all clued in. Elsa was making a statement. This wasn't Amazonian mannerisms coming to the fore. This was throwing down a gauntlet; Elsa's intention to win this competition; me. Amazons were inherently competitive, being tested and testing themselves against previous achievements and each other. Before Buffy opened her big mouth an hour ago, any contest for me had been a joke; the whole 'hunt me down in X-number of days'. Buffy had beaten Elsa to me. You don't get to be a 3000 year old secret society by letting one setback force you to admit defeat. No; Elsa was stepping up her game. The amazing transformation that had confused the women around us was that, according to Elsa, my opinion suddenly mattered. Buffy had made a point of me finding a way to be with her. My choice. Better yet, I'd made my choice to be with her while my life was on the line. Once again, 'I laugh at death' is an incredible turn on. Elsa hadn't changed her stance about men being armed. She was letting me train so she could summon me whenever she wanted me; unless Katrina put her foot down. Katrina wasn't going to do that often. Elsa was a useful subordinate and Katrina finally had her test dummy; me; on the firing range, which she had wanted all along. Katrina is scary-smart. You don't think so? Who kept throwing me and Buffy together knowing of the Buffy/Elsa rivalry? Who approved my sex weekend with Buffy? Who approved my firearms training once she had Elsa's endorsement? As you might recall, that was something Elsa swore she'd never do, yet here we were; a male being trained with firearms at Havenstone. Katrina didn't know when I'd figure out a way to sleep with Buffy, but she had faith in me that once I got to know Buffy, I'd figure something out. I'm far easier to read than the US Tax Code, or the Affordable Care Act. I liked sex with women, I liked being seen as a good guy, I liked trying to be a good guy; roughly in that order. Katrina knew that. I didn't particularly mind being used by her either. That was her job; to protect the security and integrity of Havenstone. Now Buffy was happy, Elsa was letting me train and by dint of my outrageous behavior, I was assisting Katrina in her plot to restore stability to the traditional Amazon bloodlines. Traska slathered this synthetic goo over my lacerations. It stung, but it aided in the healing process and was flexible enough to barely restrict movement. I winced and 'stumbled' forward face-first into Elsa's crotch. My nose ridge pressed deep into her camel toe, certainly pushing down on her clit. "I apologize," I said softly. I didn't move. Elsa didn't see fit to move me, even with her hand still in the hair on the top of my head. "Finished," Traska sighed. "Let me help you up," Oneida jumped to my aid. She helped me stand, but Elsa didn't seem to mind. Getting out of the gym alive was easy. My heartfelt pledge to myself to never return was futile. Sweaty chicks hang out at gyms. As a kid, I played D and D. If I was a Ranger, gyms would be my favored terrain. Okay, maybe bars then gyms. Fine, rock concerts, bars then gyms. I almost made it to the locker room. Coming from the other direction; the non-blooded gym; was Felix. "Hey Felix," I greeted him. Here I was with several fresh wounds and ten steamy ladies who all appeared to have a definite interest in my physique, if not my well-being. Felix was alone. That would not do, not for a man like Felix. "What happened to you?" he asked. "Figure-skating accident," I lied. "It seems I'm clumsy on ice." He didn't buy if for a second. "Oh; maybe Brooke can help patch you up tonight," he grinned. Asshole. The only flaw in his game plan was that the chicks around me didn't give a rat's ass about outsider women. They certainly weren't going to be jealous of them. "Good idea," I nodded. "Where are my manners? This is Oneida, Elsa, Traska and; well, I can't say I've been able to catch everyone's names yet." The unknown women didn't bother introducing themselves. Why? Felix was only a male. They had no immediate need of him, so they didn't bother being civil. Felix was an Alpha's Alpha. He didn't give up that easily. We made it to the showers. Buffy, having not worked out, waited by my locker. Mystically, Elsa appeared in the showers at the exact same time as me. Felix was right behind her. "Felix Melena," he offered his hand to Elsa. She shook it then went back to showering. "I'm better than Cáel." Elsa gave him a quick sneer. "What gives you that idea?" she murmured. "Why don't you let me prove it," he turned to face her, giving Elsa the complete Felix Melena aesthetic. He was a centimeter, or two taller, I was maybe three kilograms heavier and we both lavished attention on our bodies. He was perhaps a bit longer, but narrower down there. As long as it wasn't aimed at my mouth, or ass, I didn't care. By the lack of reaction in Elsa's body tempo, she didn't care either. "If you were a team bodyguard and an assassin appeared to be trying to kill myself and Hayden, who would you protect with your life?" Elsa posed. "I'd kill the assassin," Felix came back immediately. Felix was a winner. "Cáel?" Elsa said. "Hayden," I responded. "I'm a bodyguard. From the top down; protect, secure, return fire." "Cáel, you are trained as a bodyguard?" Felix smirked. "Nah. That was the common sense answer to the question she asked," I shrugged. Shampoo time. Felix was going to make me pay for that comeback. "Felix, would you ever work at Havenstone; off the clock?" Elsa continued. "Yeah," he grinned. I know what he wanted to work on; off the clock. Good luck, you bastard. "Cáel?" "I'm never off the clock, damn it," I snorted. "This job is a 24/7 crimp in my sex life." "Bro," Felix coughed. "Be careful. That's close to sexual harassment." Btw, Felix was serious. He was actually cautioning me. See, me being deported meant he couldn't crush me. "Elsa, would you please shoot me in the head?" I replied. "No," she smiled warmly at me. "I love you too," I said, dripping with sarcasm. Felix's eyes bugged out for a second. "That, Felix Melena, is why Cáel is a better man than you," Elsa looked like an angel sitting in judgment of Felix, finding him flawed and substandard. "Cáel joking around makes him better than me?" Felix mocked. The mistake here had to be Elsa's. "Your lack of understanding is not my problem," Elsa dismissed him. "Cáel, wash my back." "Fine, I'll do it, but I'm massaging your ass too," I groused. "Get it over with," she sighed with exasperation. "Damn. Felix; day in, day out. Always washing naked women. This job is killing me," I muttered. Felix wasn't one to give up easily. By the time I had totally soaped up her back, ass and upper thighs; back and front, he had exited the field. He caught me exiting the locker room. "Cáel, why don't we go out for some drinks after work?" he offered. Ah, he was going to beat me up with Brooke. "Sure," I agreed. I'm a dog. Felix was going to sleep with Brooke to show me he was the superior male. He was going to rub it in my face. I hadn't told anyone about knocking boots with Brooke. It wasn't their business. Felix would crow it to the Heavens, because pissing me off was what mattered, not how Brooke felt. I couldn't even save Brooke because Felix was in her socio-economic group and she'd make the same mistake with him she'd made with Trent; thinking they cared about her.  (Monday later) Buffy had finally dismissed me when Katrina summoned me to her office. Ignoring me getting into an altercation; in the Full-Blood gym; yet again, I had a good day. No property damage, lost items, or physically damaged employees. Ragged by most people's standards, but a good day for me at Havenstone. I still had a chance to walk out under my own power. Katrina motioned me to come to her desk. Upon my arrival, she slid a tablet over to me with a single icon on the screen. I tapped it. Aya's face appeared as the vid-mail began. She was glowing. There was tent fabric in the background so I had no idea of her geographic location. I didn't care. "Hey!" she squeaked. "I'm doing great at camp. I met three girls who are as small as me and we've formed our own squad; the Fatal Squirts." I chuckled. I had encouraged her to steal strength from her perceived weaknesses. She had to believe in herself then take that as she built up her skills. I had faith in her when no one else did. "I showed some of my councilors a picture of you. I think you would get into trouble if you came here. I want you to come, but I thought it was only fair to warn my favorite bed-buddy," she giggled. "Send me a message when you can. I understand there will be a delay as the messages have to be physically delivered. I know you are doing okay. If not, hold off your vengeance until I can return and guard your back. I love you, Cáel. Be well," she smiled as her picture faded into darkness. "Ah damn," I whispered. Aya looked good; confident, upbeat and spirited. "Katrina, can I make a message for her right now?" I begged. "Of course," she gave me an approving tilt of the head. "I think the courier is still in the building." "Cool. What do I do?" I urged. "Use the webcam; make a message and forward it to my computer," Katrina told me. "I'll take it from there." I made the message, pretty much updating her on my latest exploits with limited editing. Aya was a surprisingly innocent yet worldly 9 year old. Much of that came from being Katrina's and Desiree's niece; mainly Katrina's. It gave her access to tidbits of sensitive data from time to time. Not so much she was a real security threat. Enough so that she got some things confused; like what sex was truly about. I felt in my soul she'd be a great Amazon one day. I didn't remind her of that much. She had enough pressure for a kid her age. "You are seeing Oneida now?" a frosty voice unnerved me. It was Buffy. "Fuck," I jumped up. "Damn Buffy, stop sneaking up on me like that, or I'm going to start thinking you are a stalker." "I am stalking you, Einstein," Buffy menaced. "I'm glad we got that out of the way," I rolled my eyes. "Oh look! It's Daphne coming to my rescue. I am so out of here," I exulted. I edged passed Buffy, slipped her attempt to grab my arm and raced for the 'new hires' at the elevator. "Get back here, you Cock-sucker!" Buffy howled as she chased me down. May miracles never cease. Daphne, Violet and Tigger formed an Amazon (I wasn't sure if I could consider them 'human' yet) shield between my frail form and the hulking brute that was Buffy. "Calm down, Buffy," Daphne pleaded. "He fought Elsa today; again." "Get out of my way," Buffy snarled. "Thank God you stopped her," I huffed to Dora. "I hope to she never finds out that I soaped up Elsa's entire body while we were sharing a shower together." Daphne turned and gave me an incredulous look. "Cáel, you are a Dumb-ass," Daphne sighed. Looking to Buffy as she stood aside. "Have at." "Are you mental?" Fabiola chimed in. The elevator doors finally opened, Buffy shoved me in and the rest of the posse followed. Helena joined us at the last second. "He's taunting me," Buffy responded to Fabiola while using her middle finger to poke my chest. "At this rate I am going to have to devastate a dozen male escorts so I can make it the remaining the 69 more days until he's mine again." "Is he really that good?" Paula wondered. Buffy twisted around to confront her. "He hammered me so hard, I thought he'd dislocate my hips. Later, we spent an entire hour, naked, wrapped up in each other's bodies with no actual penetration; touching, tasting and whispered affections," Buffy curled her lip. "He's better than you could possibly imagine." "You realize we have 27 seconds left, right?" I reminded Buffy. "Really?" Buffy's head snapped back to me. I nodded and she jumped my bones. She had her hand down my pants, pulling on my rod, and the other grabbing the back of my head to deepen our kiss. For my part, I had my left hand on her breast and the right down the back of her pants, fondling a panty-covered ass cheek. In a culture where you summoned a male, ordered him to perform and he did so the same exact way he'd done a dozen times before, what Buffy and I were doing didn't make sense. The two of us didn't give up an ounce of control yet meshed perfectly. Our pleasure was obvious, vocal and we didn't give a damn about the crowd around us. Buffy and I had created our own little lust-bubble. The chimer went off. We settled down and straightened up our clothes. "Fuck it all; that's some good dicking," Buffy mumbled. That was an inside joke between me, Timothy, my big, gay, buff tattoo-artist roommate, and the few women he chose to share that descriptive with; 'a good dicking'. We tumbled out of the elevator. "Is he always like that?" Fabiola mumbled. "He's a whole lot better with his clothes off," Buffy sneered at Fabiola. Sometimes I'm a super-selfish bastard; I want life to cut me some slack. Waiting for us was Oneida; in biker clothing. That would have merely been bad, dangerous and creepy except I was dressed in work clothes. I was planning to meet some of the guys (all two of them) for some after-work drinks. The encounter went from not-good to horribly awkward. Oneida had checked up on me, been told how I got to and from work as well as when I left. Unfortunately, she hadn't checked my social calendar; mainly because I didn't keep one; sophomore year mistake. If a girl is in your apartment, she will find the thing you don't want her to find; every single time. I burned my diary and unfriended everybody after that final, hospital-resulting episode. "Hi," I greeted Oneida. She'd figured out she'd screwed up something fierce. "What bike do you use? I have a Specialized STSE hybrid. Maybe we can use some paths one weekend." I was trying to diffuse her embarrassment. We were two bikers talking about bikes. Nothing wrong with that. "I have a Specialized Source;” she got out then realized how BAD that sounded. She had the exact same bike as me; how bizarre? Unless you had somebody come down and take a look at what I bicycle I used. Time to save the day. "Do you want to make a date for 6:30 am on Saturday?" I suggested. "Provided this wacky place hasn't offed, or misplaced me by then." "Ah; that would be nice," Oneida rebounded happily. "The date, that is." "Whoa Oneida, what are you doing with this guy?" Brian derided me as he walked up. I wanted to say, 'Brian, you've insulted a princess of the Amazon people. Please continue making an ass of yourself and give Trent and Khalid my regards'. I didn't. "This is Cáel Nyilas. He's a real player," Brian smirked. "You can do better than him." Oh yeah, Oneida and Brian were co-workers; 'new hires' in Acquisitions. "Brian, it took you three days to even use my name," Oneida gave Brian a neutral stare. "I love Cáel. He saved my life and he sees the real me." For the love of all that's holy, someone shoot me in the head right now. I could hear the nearly subsonic growls emanating from Buffy. Brian looked at me, laughed and went to put an arm around Oneida's shoulder. After all, if I could pick her up, it should be effortless for him to take her away, right? Dumb-shit. Laughing at me was okay. Laughing at; then I noticed the two chicks in black leather standing about doing their best (until a second ago) to go unnoticed. Cáel had gotten away with such familiarity because Cáel had risked his life to save their Princess. Brian Fung? He barely knew her name and they worked together. These weren't even SD chicks; they were something else. My guess was Arinniti House Guard. Did Katrina's House Epona have a house guard? Sure, I imagine they did. They were probably with the rest of House Epona where ever they lived. It wasn't like the whole kit and caboodle was here in NYC. That would have been foolish. If Caitlyn, Aya's mom, had a security issue, she called us at Havenstone HQ, less than four kilometers away. Without a doubt, Elsa would stop by and kick ass for her. I gave Brian this much; he had a working set of eyes. The second those two harbingers of death began closing in, Brian back-pedaled. "Hey Brian, let's go grab some drinks," I offered him a graceful exit. "Sounds good," Brian tried to sound cool. "Oneida, take care," I nodded to my new romantic stalker. "Ladies," to my 'new hire' crew. "Buffy," to my sometimes boss, "remember you are still hot for a; mature chick." "You are going die a long, torturous and extremely painful death," Buffy sizzled. "What? Are you going to make me eat your cooking?" I laughed. Buffy didn't articulate a counter before Brian and I slipped outside. "Cáel, who was that woman?" Brian whispered. "Which one? You need to be more specific. My erotic malfeasances are terribly confusing." "The one you insulted," Brian said. "The last one you insulted," he clarified. "Buffy. She's one of my bosses," I grinned. "She loves me. She's even promised to play the bagpipes at my funeral. Personally I think that's because she doesn't want to risk anyone hearing me pounding on the coffin lid, trying to get out." "You are not going to make it the full 84 days with that attitude," Brian lectured me. "Trent has already been promoted," Brian continued. "I am regularly referred to as indispensable in my work reviews. Felix works closely with Ms. Pharos at all times. You seem to be the only one of us having; issues with Havenstone. Hell, they even shot you and you sat back and took it. I doubt your complacent attitude impressed anyone much." No mention of poor Khalid. How quickly they forget. Trent had been 'promoted' to Southeast Asia alright. I looked it up; there are around 10,000 islands between Indonesia and the Philippines. Sure some were small spits of land with a few trees. I had little doubt one of the good-sized one was a jungle of a different sort. Certainly Executive Services sent Trent's belongings somewhere. I'd never tried to find out. What would I have done with the knowledge? Brooke didn't care and I didn't know his family. Brian and I went to the same yuppie bar as last time. I was with Brian this time, so I abandoned him as quick as I could. Why? At the far end of the bar, talking the bar-back was my Delivery Girl; aka the person who did the home liquor delivery to Libra's place. Half way down the bar, she sensed me looking at her. The bar-back followed her gaze. He wasn't happy with me. DG simply didn't recognize me so I held up my valise over my groin. Confusion; surprise; acknowledgment that despite our surroundings, I wasn't worried about being seen with her. She had her hand truck; she had to make a front door delivery this time. "Remember me?" I smiled. "Cáel Nyilas; the Pillow Guy," she snickered. "How did that work out for you?" The bar-back was broadcasting his displeasure at some upper class shmuck cutting in on his action. DG caught that. "Jason, this is Cáel," she introduced me. "We last met under unusual circumstances." "What kind of name is Cáel?" Jason remarked. "An unfortunate one," I snorted. "You try explaining to your kindergarten teacher that it is 'c-a-e-l'. Of course, I wasn't 'Bomophoto' either. She had it worse than I did." Jason searched me out to see if I was pulling one over on him. I wasn't. Bomo and I bonded over our linguistic misfortune. She moved to Santa Fe in the third grade. I wonder if she grew up to be hot looking. Oink. "I'll give you that," he chuckled. "Why did you get branded?" "Mom was Irish, my Dad was in love with her so I got the cultural emersion, minus the Guinness," I shrugged. "By the way;” I looked back to the lady. "Katy Lee Baker," she batted her eyelashes. We shook hands. "How did it go?" I picked up her question. "Sex, chopped fruit, your drinks, more sex and back to the clinic before eleven." "Have you talked to them since?" Katy inquired somewhat seductively. "Perhaps. I don't like to kiss and tell," I evaded. "I'm curious because two of the three arrived five minutes before you did and they appear somewhat unhappy with you right now," she smirked. "You can look over your shoulder if you don't believe me." Sure enough, there was Felix, Brian, Brooke, Libra and; I think her name was Gina. I waved then turned back to my current two conversationalists. "So Jason, what do you like to do?" I asked the guy. "Huh; what? I work," he replied. "I mean bike, try ethnic food, go to the gym; stuff like that," I teased him. "I work six days a week; but usually one or two are afternoon shifts. Me and some buddies play some pick-up basketball," Jason told me. "Great. You'd pick a sport I suck at," I set the bait. If Jason thought I sucked, he'd invite me to play. That's how it worked. I was pretty good at basketball considering I'd spent the last four years playing with girls; on the court. Girls play some mean ball. They also didn't shy away from putting an elbow into my nuts if they felt like it. "I'm not sure I live in a neighborhood you'd be comfortable visiting," Jason threw up a roadblock. I had him on this one. I showed him my ID. It had the right address; wrong apartment number. "Shit dude, that place is about as rough as my home turf." "I get paid a quarter million a year to taste test for hexafluoride in Chinese imports," I joked. "Really?" Katy chuckled. "It's a growth industry; if you consider tumors to be growth," I was faux-serious. "Mr.; Cáel," Jason looked over my shoulder. "I think one of those chicks is about to come over here and kill you. You best hop to it." "Which one? The brunette, or the russet-colored (Libra)?" I inquired. "The brunette wants attention and the russet wants to push a red hot poker up your ass," Jason gave me his experienced opinion. Heading over there was going to be 'fun'. "Give me a call some time, Jason. Nice to see you again, Katy Lee," I waved good-bye. "You know the staff here?" Libra spat. "That was the girl who delivered the liquor to your place, Libra," I sighed. "I said 'hi'." "It takes you an awful lot of words to say 'hello'," Brian gave a false smile. Libra was positioned next to Brian. Her anger with me plus his 'sexy' put her there. Brooke shifted as I joined their chair-less center table. She was putting enough distance between us to show everyone she was independent yet close enough to give warning signs to other woman that I was in her sights, if not her outright possession. I was better looking than Brooke had counted on. More 'fun' was coming down the pipeline. Gina was here on another date with Felix, or so she thought. Poor Gina. Felix was most likely an excellent fuck. What she didn't appreciate was that Felix was not only a competitor, he was the kind of athlete who had to win. Second place was what you called the first loser. Gina was about to be educated in this personal idiocentricity. Now that I was on stage, Felix made his move on Brooke. Gina? He'd let her in on a three-way if he was feeling personally Hernán Cortés-like. Felix had to have Brooke. I hadn't dumped Brooke, according to Gina, so he wasn't getting my castoffs; he was stealing my prize. The flaw in this plan was my whole viewpoint on monogamy. I didn't much care for it. Brooke was a grown woman and could make her own choices. Felix made his move. Damn, he was smooth. He had Brooke wrapped up and pulled tight without Gina even being aware she'd been dumped. Enter the train wreck named Nicole. She was the criminal defense attorney who I'd fucked in a stall in the women's bathroom of this place. She hadn't tried to contact me and I hadn't worried about her. Hook-ups were like that. She'd been close by, respecting Brooke's signs and not stopping by to say hello. Then Felix launched his master plan and I was suddenly freed up. Nicole had gotten a rough fucking and liked it, I could tell. "Cáel Nyilas," Nicole swooped in. "How have you been?" "The normal. Menace to society, disrespectful of authority and being annoying to random strangers," I teased. "You?" "I'm a lawyer fighting the irresistible lure of evil. The usual," she joked back. "What have you been doing wrong? As I recall, last time you were doing everything right?" Yes, a good dicking indeed. I was going to relate this encounter to Timothy just so he could shoot me with his Nerf gun. He'd shoot me anyway, but it was nice of me to give him an excuse from time to time. "I've been sending sexually suggestive letters to ADA Feinstein," I offered. "Does that count?" "Oh really?" she seemed surprised. "Why don't you come by my table real quick and let me introduce you to some of my colleagues." I wasn't going to be rude. "Gang, this is Nicole," I introduced her to my table. "She's an attorney at a prestigious law firm that probably has more dead partners than living ones and offices in Papua New Guinea and a few dozen other places you've never heard of. I'll be right back." "You are a nut," Nicole bumped me as we weaved our way to her buddies. "Ladies, this is Cáel Nyilas. I think I mentioned him once." By the looks on their faces, once had been enough. "This is Zelda, Marsha, Phyllis, and Rivka; Rivka Feinstein, ADA for New York County," (that's Manhattan for us hicks). "Ah crap," I exclaimed. That wasn't what they expected. "I confess," I looked at Nicole, "I saw the name in an article on the back of the Village Voice. Sadly, they had R. Feinstein and I stupidly assumed it was a guy." "Oh my God! You're gay?" Zelda and Phyllis despaired. "While my life would a whole lot easier if I was, I'm straight; not even bi-curious. My roommate, Timothy; never Tim; is and he was reading it while I was working out. It sort of stuck in my mind," I admitted. "How did my name come up in conversation?" Rivka inquired. "Cáel is a pathological liar," Nicole teased me. "Not true," I protested. "I'm allergic to excessive honesty. That's totally different." "I'd like to put you on the witness stand," Zelda gave me those bedroom eyes. "You and about a 150 other women," I groaned. "150?" Rivka choked. "Yep. The rest already know I'm guilty," I muttered. "Are you of weak moral fiber?" Phyllis joined the game. We were all having a blast. "Sorry, but no. I'm saving up for some. Currently I'm without morals; or scruples. Any suggestion which one I should purchase first?" "You are a great guy," Rivka snickered. "Why aren't you dating somebody?" "Shall we revisit my lack of morals and scruples?" I answered. "So you are a player?" Nicole nudged me. She wanted to play alright. "How to put this; I'm a wonderful lover and a lousy boyfriend," I told them. "I was an eighteen year old virgin. In the past four years, I have betrayed every woman I've ever dated, save one; my first love," I explained. "Why didn't you betray her?" Phyllis prodded. "Don't tell me she's dead." "No, she's fine," I replied. "She was the one who told me to date other women." "That's harsh," Zelda commiserated. She thought Kimberly had dumped me. "Oh no," I corrected her. "We stayed together until I graduated last month. Four of the best years of my life. When she told me to date other women it was because I was killing her. I have a voracious sexual appetite and she was desperate for a full night's sleep." "Do you ever go home alone?" Marsha joined in. "Does leaving a woman's house at 1 a.m. count?" I requested. "Did she throw you out?" Rivka interrogated. "No. She and her sister were exhausted so I picked up my roommate and left," I exaggerated. "Wait!" Nicole held up her hand. "Sisters; and you told us your roommate was gay?" "Morals and scruples," I repeated. "See, I was dating one sister and the other sister wanted a date so I talked my gay roommate into being my wingman so I wouldn't end up sleeping with them both. It didn't work out so well. The second, older sister was horny, so my guy pretended to pass out." "Have you ever considered you are a horrible person?" Marsha studied me. "Yes. Not only have I thought about, I've been told that a few dozen times. It usually is accompanied by 'I'm going to kill you', or 'you had better make it up to me'." "Have you ever been hurt?" Phyllis appeared concerned. "My body is a roadmap of poor decision making," I responded. "What was the worst thing to ever happen to you?" Rivka grinned. Her ability to be deceptively pretty had to have made her a frightening lawyer. "When they were happening, I was a bit more concerned with what might happen to me as opposed to rating them," I informed her. "Except for being shot with an arrow, being chased around naked with a hot poker and having my bed dowsed with lighter fluid while I was still in it were probably the worst," I nodded. "I've been stabbed a few times, tasered, occasionally thrown out of a window not on the first floor and had bookcase dropped on me once, so I consider myself a connoisseur of ex-girlfriend vengeance." "Have you ever been involved with a police proceeding?" Rivka became a tad bit more intense. "Nah," shook my head. "I had it coming. As you said, I'm kind of a horrible guy." "Domestic violence is no joking matter," Nicole also became serious. "That's unfair," I countered. "I'm not so slavishly devoted to the law that I'd ruin some girl's life because I was a total bastard." "Domestic Violence laws are supposed to protect the innocent from the abusive," I added. "I haven't lied to you about my misadventures, but you should understand I chose to handle most of my problems myself. By the looks on your faces, you are about as disappointed in me as the policewoman I am currently seeing. This is who I am and I'm not going to apologize for it." "Mind you, I'm not some gun-toting, roughneck Libertarian," I clarified. "I believe in law, order and the justice system. If someone pulls out an AK-47 on me at a corner bodega, I'm making 9-1-1 my bitch on speed-dial. I don't want to be a hero, or fulfill my organ donor card. I just don't equate that to a girl kneeing me in the nuts because I slept with her best friend in her lingerie." There was a pause as the ladies looked around. They were making an assessment of how much trouble I'd cause versus how much fun I would be. They all smiled at me. They always do. "Who was wearing the lingerie?" Zelda smirked. "I've worn women's lingerie before, but it really wasn't my thing," I mused. "I'll go through a lot for good sex," I winked. "It was my girlfriend's lingerie on her best friend." "Wait," Rivka noted. "Didn't the best friend know you were dating the first girl?" "Yeah. I'm not sure why that never stops them," I shrugged. "Around the fifth time I stopped worrying about it." "Wow, do you have any idea how many women you've been with?" Rivka asked. "Do you always use protection?" Phyllis piled on. "Yes; 223 as of Friday. I'm hoping to break 300 before work replaces me with those guys from 'Hamster Dance'," I told them. "And yes, I always use protection." "I may not know where my partner has been, but I know where I've been and it scares me," I snickered. "That's why I always carry ten." "Ten?" Nicole snorted. "Do you regularly check the expiration date, or are you that ambitious?" "Ambitious? I'd carry more except it's hard to hide more than ten in a wallet; I've tried," I sighed. "Have you ever run out?" Marsha snickered. Our snickering, chuckling and laughter were drawing stares. "Run out? Hell, I've gone door to door in a women's dormitory at 2 a.m. trying to find some," I related. "Ran into an old girlfriend doing that." I slipped into a dreamy smile. "Why do I think that despite it being 2 a.m. in her dorm with you seeking a condom for use with a different woman, she wasn't pissed?" Rivka giggled. "Oh God no," I waved off. "She was freaking furious. That was some of the most intense 'I'm lonely and it's all your fault' sex I have ever been through." "You have names for different kinds of sex?" Nicole was almost crying from laughing so hard. "Oh yeah. The first time I run across a different sexual experience, I slap a name on it so when it happens again, I know what to do," I explained. "Isn't every woman unique?" Zelda sniffled. "That sounds nice in a love song, but 'no'," I smiled. "Women, and men, have a finite number things; needs and responses. Women can have different erogenous zones, but there all on the human body. Admittedly, it can be a bit like predicting the weather at times. It is not a perfect system by any means." "What's my 'thing' then?" Nicole taunted. She didn't think I could do it. "Sex has to be an accomplishment with you, Nicole," I informed her. "You need to be engaged mentally as much as anything else. You need a poet who runs marathons. Otherwise you end up staring at the ceiling after sex wondering what better use you could have made of your time." Silence. That was the norm for that kind of revelation. Women hated to be laid bare. They hated being misunderstood even more. "Nicole?" Rivka prodded her friend. Nicole remained silent. I knew that look. "Nicole, I'm bad news. Wouldn't you prefer to keeps thing simple?" I hoped. I was wrong to hope. I kept praying they would go 'hey, great, mindless sex; let's not blow it', but they never did. I hated giving lame erotic encounters, despite the guarantee of anguish that always followed. "We could go out on a date and see how that works?" Nicole offered. Doom. "Cáel Nyilas; I'm in the book and I work for Havenstone Commercial Investments," I stupidly replied. "You probably have a killer workload were as I spot-check children's toys for WMDs. Give me a call when you have a night free." How was it going to turn out? Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex; let's make a commitment; you cheating fuck-nut! I hate you. Girls weren't predictable; I was. "Cáel, we are going out to dinner, if you remember who you are supposed to be with," Libra seethed as she and the others passed Nicole's table. "Yup, gotta go where I'm not wanted. Nice seeing you again, Nicole," I grinned. "Ladies, I hope it was a pleasure. It was for me. Good night." Dinner; was; bad. Felix, hemorrhoid that he was, squashed Gina's feeble attempts to draw him back to her as he made crystal clear that he was taking Brooke home; to fuck her into Paradise; instead of letting her go home with me. Problem being; Brooke wasn't mine to take; never had been. For the first time in his life, I thought Brian was about to be screwed. Libra was past uber-bitchy by the fifth glass of wine. Brian held a pair of Jokers and thought he was the boss, like always. Libra had four Queens and would be screaming my name when she orgasmed; Brian was sexually proficient. He was also a misogynist, I was now sure, and Libra was going to make him squeal. Then she was going to grab up her clothes, storm out of Brian's place and never want to talk with him again. It wasn't that I was that unforgettable. I was that I knew what she wanted and had given it to her and not getting it Saturday afternoon while Brooke did was frosting her ass. What did that mean for me? For the first time in a long, long time, I was pissed with another guy. Trent really wasn't worth my time, but Felix was about to cross my here-until-now unforeseen line of what guys did to girls. It was dawning on me that this was the result of me. Someone was doing something wrong to a girl because of me. It wasn't my fault. Felix was being a jerk. That would be of cold comfort for Brooke. We split up after dinner. I didn't have the heart to pick up Gina, who was easy prey right then. It was too much like what Felix thought he was doing to me. I took a cab to Havenstone, changed clothing and biked home. I barely had dinner ready for Timothy when he came through the door. "That's not a look I'm used to seeing," he remarked. "I should have beaten someone up," I frowned, "but I didn't and now some girl; Brooke; is going to have her heart kicked because of it." "Was it something you did?" Timothy asked. "No. There is this guy at work who is using her to alpha-dog me," I muttered. "Brooke?" Timothy was confused. "You hardly like her. What a sleaze (Felix). If it was Odette, first I'd slap you around for still being here. Then we'd go get him." "I'm not even sure why I feel bad about this," I grunted. "As you said, I hardly like her." "It is called a conscience, Dimwit," Timothy snorted. That didn't help much. Conscience? Man, I'd stop my bike to run across a highway to move a tortoise off the road. I used to feed some of the Bolingbrook wild hares during the winter. I did humiliating crap for charity. I was never mean to a girl; only dishonest and unfaithful. Introspection got me nowhere. I was a cad. I'd been happy to be a cad for four years. I was going to be damned if my post-college life was going to be any different; all 68 remaining days of it. In my bedroom I discovered Odette had moved in during my absence. I doubted Timothy had been ignorant of all the stuff she deposited. What was going on with my life? I woke up when I heard keys in the door. It was a bit past eleven. I got up to check and sure enough, it was Odette. Timothy had given her a key. Odette had lived through a harrowing night, her boss was a dick and some of the customers were pure hell. I cuddled with her on the sofa while she unwound then we went to bed together. We didn't have sex; (Tuesday) Around 1 a.m. I miraculously found myself awake and alert in bed. Odette was happily dreaming away. Something was gnawing at the back of my mind. I put a name to the emotion and a face to the fear. I called Brooke. "Hey Brooke," I greeted her eight tries later. She was tired of sending me to voice mail. "What do you want?" she answered in a voice devoid of soul. "Fuck if I know," I replied. "I suddenly woke up from a sound sleep thinking of you." "I'm not interested," she sighed. "I'm going to go out on a limb here. You don't want to talk to anyone yet you want someone to help you understand what you are going through," I gambled. That created a tiny tear in her shroud of depression. After five minutes, I got her to give me her address. She told me she wouldn't answer the door. I told her I at least had to try. That got me to her place, 90 seconds of knocking got me inside and four minutes later, we were lying in bed with her sobbing on my chest. Half an hour later, she offered me sex. I told her to stop tempting me and if she only wanted me for sex, I wanted to be paid in chocolate. She giggled, took a few deep breaths and fell to sleep. Wow, I was in two different women's beds in one night and not having sex in either. My watch alarm went off at 4:50 a.m. That meant no 'Marilyn' call tonight. "Mmm;” Brooke moved toward wakefulness. "Work?" "Afraid so," I yawned. "We haven't had sex," he reminded me. I couldn't stop being me. "That's not why I came over here, Brooke," I rolled onto my side so that our bodies were very close. "Never think I don't want to have sex with you, but that's not why I showed up last night," I continued. "Why did you show up then?" she worried. "I have no clue. I'm like Felix; a player. Listen Brooke, I don't consider you my woman," I stated. "We had sex; we are lovers, but we've been thrown together by dire misfortune, not out of any common thread," I reminded her. "I don't expect you to have any sense of loyalty to me." That phrase freed her up philosophically. That meant she could fuck me and not feel obliged to consider and discard any future for us because there was no realistic future that socially glued us into any acceptable form. "So I needed a shoulder to cry on and you showed up," she mused. "Brooke, you are independent and strong-willed. The next guy you chose will be your choice," I led her along. "Felix though; Felix is a serious player and he felt the need to add you to his list of conquests. I saw it happening and did nothing. Now I feel like crap for sitting back and ignoring the consequences." "You knew Felix would turn me into a hash mark?" Brooke seemed depressed, not angry. "I knew he was trying to get at me," I confessed. "He didn't accept that you and I aren't an item. A blonde co-worker; a high ranking supervisor actually; treated him like a bug in the communal showers yesterday while keeping close contact with me. Felix had to win. He had to show me he is the top dog." "And I was the prize?" Brooke moped. "Not to me," I whispered. Brooke looked hurt. "You are a woman. While you would look delectable in a big red ribbon, that's not who you are. I don't keep hash marks. I have a thing called a heart cord and it is solely for my use. Each binding represents a liaison; like a Quipus; an Incan memory knot." Brooke really didn't care. It sounded neat, it was romantic and the act was not demeaning to her. I could savor the memory of our encounter as long as I didn't share it with my buddies. She wasn't one of 'those' girls. "You are very intelligent," she murmured seductively. She didn't care if I was the reincarnation of Benjamin Franklin, or some schmo in Afghanistan who made his living digging up (hopefully) spent ordinance of battlefields. Smoking hot, sexy, well-educated debutantes like Brooke could fuck finely-sculpted, 'smart' guys like me. She could delude herself that I was rapidly upwardly mobile. My turn. "Brooke, I don't want to get mixed up about us," I evaded. 'Us'? There was no 'us' and we both knew it. "If I caved in right now, I'm not sure I could forgive myself." Yes I could. "I just want to feel like someone gives a damn about me," Brooke whimpered. Good acting. We wrestled around; me trying to leave, but clearly not wanting to, while she physically enticed me. We ended up, me on top, pinning her wrists to either side of her head. Her legs were trapped between mine. "Make it up to me; please," she pouted. She humped her pelvic bone playfully against my cock. "I know you want to help me out." Good word usage on her part. "Brooke, this isn't going to happen," I gritted my teeth in frustration. Yes, it was going to happen. Her right leg began exerting steady pressure against my 'weak' left leg. It slowly 'surrendered' to her advance. Now she had on leg on the outside. My right leg held out a little longer yet Brooke was persistent. Now she could ground her finely groomed landing strip against my pulsating rod. I really, really wanted to fuck her now. I took my hands off her wrists, turned them into fists and placed the beneath each of her underarms. "Damn you," I cursed her. Brooke was gyrating her crotch all over mine. With her hands released, Brooke could leverage her body up and trap my cockhead between her labia. They were thoroughly soaked with her honey so after my 'capture' she drew more and more of my length in until I was completely incased. Brooke had won! She knew she'd won. Fuck Felix and his hash marks. I didn't care so why should she? I made on last energetic yet futile effort to get away. Oddly, Brooke somehow end on top at the end of my exertion. I must be an awful wrestler; "No you don't," Brooke purred only millimeters from my lips. "You are not getting away." That was Brooke tossing good ole Felix under the emotional bus. Felix the Player? She'd chalk it up to too much to drink and the hype being more than the man. How was this possible? Look at her. She'd thrown a known sexual dynamo down on her bed and was working his shaft over every G-spot in her vagina. Brooke still preferred a long, rough fucking to get her off. At the moment, she need reassurance more. Felix most assuredly made Brooke ride him. He kept her perpendicular to his hips and came up to suckle her teats when he wanted to, or watch them bounce as he lay back. He was great at sex, no doubt. The girl had to scream and howl; forgetting every other male she was ever with and making every other guy she'd be with later an automatic failure. To him, that was how he rated success. This resulted in me keeping Brooke close so I could make quick kisses to her very close lips. She'd playfully pull away; to put me in my place and remind me she was in charge; then she'd initiate the kiss. Our love-making was more rhythmic; less frantic. She was getting close. "Next; next time you fuck Felix," I gasped. "Tell him; " "What makes; makes you think I'd; every sleep with him; again?" Brooke got feisty. "I bet he was good in bed and now that you have his measure," I assured her. "You can take what pleasure you want and leave." Brooke liked that. It was the whole independent woman thing. "Won't you be jealous?" she panted. "I cannot constantly keep up with your sexual desires, Brooke," I grunted. "I've been neglecting Libra." Oh yeah, Libra. The girl she, Brooke, initially set me up with. Her Vassar classmate. "What about Felix," she huffed and huffed. She was real close. "Off-handedly comment that he's developing male pattern baldness," I grinned. "Just to fuck with his head." Felix was gorgeous. Better yet, Felix knew he was gorgeous. Hit him where it hurts. Brooke tried to giggle, but the surge of triumph overcame her and off she went. The problem was I was getting close and I didn't have a condom on. "Brooke," I inhaled deeply. She'd come to rest on my chest. "I'm about to; " "Oh," she sighed happily. She reversed to the side as she slithered down my body. My cock went down her throat and I started petting her flank. Brooke wasn't the very best, but, man o man, she was going to town on my dick. There was no doubt in my mind that her vaginal secretions didn't bother her. I had to rush the experience because if I was late to work, Constanza make me stand beside the targets while she shot at them. If she was really pissed, she'd have me hold up targets in front me instead. I shot off, Brooke caught it all in her mouth then spit it into two tissues before tossing them in the trash. I caught her look. Trent and now Felix made her swallow. I didn't care; which was yet another choice Brooke was free to make when making love to me. I jumped her. We had a little, tickle-nibble fight that ended in some kisses. I had to leave and Brooke made sure she was poised extra-sexy the last time I turned around to say goodnight and cut off the lights. "Ah damn," I moaned before I left. I didn't really like Brooke yet, by choosing to engage her in sex, I had accepted the task of making her happy. That was the reason Felix and I were going to fight. He'd use another human being to strike at me instead striking at me directly. To me, this was more than low character, it was an insult to my lifestyle. Felix should have checked his baggage at the door. Competing for the same lady was fine; even fun. Picking one to punish another; not cool. I had to think about my response as I barely made it in for my Constanza time. Wisely, I left my baggage at the door. These were firearms we were dealing with; a danger to me and the people around me. I was in my biking outfit today. More looks. The decision was that I'd go for my Glock-22, a 38 Ruger LCR back-up, a South Korean-made shotgun that looked like an M-16 and a very unhealthy looking device called a Heckler  and  Koch UMP 40 (which I had never even heard of). Wait; it got worse. I was scheduled for knife fighting training at 3 p.m.; every day for the foreseeable future. Constanza didn't w

The Amazon is often described as an ecosystem under dire threat due to climate change and deliberate deforestation. Yet there is still considerable hope that these threats can be mitigated. In the face of these threats, indigenous conservationists are attempting to strike a balance between tradition and preserving Amazonia. Meanwhile, two river journeys more than 100 years apart – one by a contemporary National Geographic reporter and another by “The Lewis and Clark of Brazil”— draw attention to the beauty and diversity of one of the world's most important ecosystems. Guests: Cynthia Gorney – Contributing writer at the National Geographic Society, former bureau chief for South America at The Washington Post Larry Rohter – Reporter and correspondent in Rio de Janeiro for fourteen years for Newsweek and as The New York Times bureau chief. Author of Into the Amazon: The Life of Cândido Rondon, Trailblazing Explorer, Scientist, Statesman, and Conservationist João Campos-Silva – Brazilian researcher and conservationist, and cofounder of Instituto Jura, a conservation organization. His work, along with that of other conservationists, is featured in the National Geographic issue devoted to the Amazon. Featuring music by Dewey Dellay and Jun Miyake Big Picture Science is part of the Airwave Media podcast network. Please contact advertising@airwavemedia.com to inquire about advertising on Big Picture Science. You can get early access to ad-free versions of every episode by joining us on Patreon. Thanks for your support!   Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The Amazon is often described as an ecosystem under dire threat due to climate change and deliberate deforestation. Yet there is still considerable hope that these threats can be mitigated. In the face of these threats, indigenous conservationists are attempting to strike a balance between tradition and preserving Amazonia. Meanwhile, two river journeys more than 100 years apart – one by a contemporary National Geographic reporter and another by “The Lewis and Clark of Brazil”— draw attention to the beauty and diversity of one of the world's most important ecosystems. Guests: Cynthia Gorney – Contributing writer at the National Geographic Society, former bureau chief for South America at The Washington Post Larry Rohter – Reporter and correspondent in Rio de Janeiro for fourteen years for Newsweek and as The New York Times bureau chief. Author of Into the Amazon: The Life of Cândido Rondon, Trailblazing Explorer, Scientist, Statesman, and Conservationist João Campos-Silva – Brazilian researcher and conservationist, and cofounder of Instituto Jura, a conservation organization. His work, along with that of other conservationists, is featured in the National Geographic issue devoted to the Amazon. Featuring music by Dewey Dellay and Jun Miyake Big Picture Science is part of the Airwave Media podcast network. Please contact advertising@airwavemedia.com to inquire about advertising on Big Picture Science. You can get early access to ad-free versions of every episode by joining us on Patreon. Thanks for your support!   Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Resumen informativo con las noticias más destacadas de Colombia del viernes 08 de noviembre de 2024 a las dos de la tarde.

Cáel's tombstone: For the love of women, women put him here.In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand.Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected..