Podcasts about belatedly

The UK's company formation process is fast, easy and cheap. The net result of being open to almost any business is that up to half the companies on the UK's Companies House register may have no legitimate purpose. Instead, those companies are used by fraudsters as a vital tool in scams and money laundering schemes. Many are set up using fake identities and addresses. Often, they break the reporting rules and never file accounts. And Companies House has become a honeypot for organised crime groups from around the world.In the latest episode of the Unseen Money podcast, Timur Yunusov and I are joined by dark money expert Graham Barrow, who has exposed some of the worst failings of the UK's company formation regime.Belatedly, the UK government is acting to address those failings. But will new legislation go far and fast enough? Listen to the podcast to find out.

No Longer An Enemy.Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels."My Sister wished to know if you speak Mandarin," the brother translated for me."Hi, I'm Cáel," I greeted him. "Who are you guys?" He looked to one of the two goons holding on to me. I received a painful kidney punch. I discovered a whole new super-power. It hurt for about two seconds then nothing."I asked you a question," he repeated."No, I don't speak Mandarin," I lied so well it came across as a dour confession."Yet you know the secretive language of the Earth & Sky," he stated."Yes, I do. I have a thing for dead languages. Maybe in a few more years, I'll pick up your Mother Tongue as well," I bantered.No punishment was immediately meted out, so I suspected no one close to me, besides him, spoke much if any English. Jian Bob (my new name for him) didn't relay my insult. I wasn't worth it. He went straight for the reason for our get-together."You are going to die, Mr. Nyilas. That is a given," J B began."We both know you have done enough damage to our cause to be worthy of elimination a hundred times over. I'm going to show you respect by not lying to you about your possible fate. What you can do is save your young companion. We understand you two are close," he appealed in a very polite manner. Aya snickered."Cáel, these people are mentally challenged," she giggled to me, "or hideously misinformed.""I know, I know," I smiled down at Aya. "Still, they have gone through a great deal of effort to insult our intellect today, so let's humor them a little longer." Jian Bob issued several casual orders.In short order, a third man had hold of me by the jaw with one hand while trying to hold my eyelids open with the other. One guard held her by the shoulders. A second held her right hand, extending her ring finger. A third man held a knife to her top knuckle. A forth stood close with a small blowtorch."She may be a small person, Mr. Nyilas, but she can still die by the Death of a Thousand cuts," he explained."I love you, Aya," I told her softly."I love you too, Fehér mén," she succeeding in keeping most of the fear from her voice.Neither one of us could stop this. Aya certainly didn't expect me to compromise the Host for her benefit. She was as much an Amazon as the first Epona."First, I wish to know what alerted you to the attack at the Summer Camp," Bob began the interrogation."We know you were responsible. We want to know what happened." I looked into his eyes and waited patiently. He nodded to the guard, who shoved my face toward Aya's extended finger until I was less than a foot away."Do it." The Order came in Mandarin.The guard cut the top part of the digit off, one knuckle. I looked at the flesh and bone being cut away. In a clinical manner, I noted how sharp the blade was. I saw the blood shoot forth and heard Aya's little voice cry out in pain. I was pulled back and pointed at Jian Bob again."Do I need to repeat the question for you?" he said."No, I caught it the first time," I grimaced. "It tells me that you haven't the slightest idea who you are fucking with." Bob made a slight hand gesture and the blowtorch cauterized Aya's stump. Her little lungs belted out a terrible screech that wound down as her feet gave out and she hung limply in the guard's grip."Revive her." The blowtorch guy, clearly not his first day on the job, snapped some smelling salts under her noise. Aya revived, sobbing and in a great deal of pain."Cáel," she whimpered. "I have found my stillness. I'll be okay now." Her sobs subsided."Shall we try this again?" J B remained coolly polite, almost urbane."Nah," I joked, "we are both pretty good over here.""Again." The Mandarin order came. Off went another digit of her ring finger. This time her scream was much more exuberant and forceful. We all know it hurt like Hell, but the world had turned."He's going to kill all of you," Aya snickered while she sobbed. "You are all going to die.""Mu, what is the little girl saying?" she asked Jian Bob, real name Mu."She is stating her belief that Cáel will somehow kill us all," he and his sister shared the joke. "Let us see what her tune is when they start in on her left hand," the woman smiled at her sibling.That implied they'd cut off her right thumb and fingers, digit by digit, until one, or both of us cracked. The man nodded and Aya's nub was burned again. Her scream was more of a cleansing shout."Cáel, do you think I will have a nice horse to ride when I join Epona's herds, or will I get a pony?" Aya whimpered."Not a clue," I began before Mu had the face-hugging guard apply a finger strike to my solar plexus. Alal's gift had allowed me to partially organize my brain functions. Coping with pain was a whole lot easier now, but I had to be careful to monitor it because pain was Nature's way of letting you know that there was something wrong with your body."What color would you like me to pick up and have waiting for you," punch, "when you finally take yourself to the cliffs?""Again.""This is accomplishing nothing," the senior bald Mo Fo grumbled. "He clearly cares nothing for the child and has been trained in counter-interrogation techniques.""There is nothing to indicate that," Mu bristled."Xiàsh, burn the tip of his left forefinger," senior necromancer commanded. The guy holding my face coordinated with the men holding my arms to free me of my bonds and wrestle my left arm forward. I didn't bother resisting.It didn't take the commandoes long to figure I had stopped caring. On came the flame and the pain. Oh, I screamed. The pain was real. What had changed was my ability to shuffle it off to an isolated memory file to be tackled later. The bald creep stepped into my field of vision. His eyes were windows to the abyss. My "spirit" sight opened my eyes to the truly inhuman sections of his mind and soul."See, normal techniques will not be affective. We will do it, " and they realized the enormity of their mistake by assuming I was paralyzed by the pain. I broke free of the guy on my left and began twisting around the guy on my right. I wasn't getting away, I was going for his QCW O5. I knew their favorite martial arts styles and their weaponry now.The guy I was rolling behind realized what I was doing (going for his gun), but mistook my intentions. I wasn't trying to get away, or steal the gun (still strapped to his body). That cockhead even helped me out by lurching ground-ward. I swung the gun up, hit the selector and fired two quick bursts.The first three rounds hit Mr. Blowtorch in his right thigh, shredding it. The second burst caught Mr. Knife guy in the crotch, a triple 21mm castration. Had Blowtorch Guy not been busy trying to keep the strands of his right hip connected to his right leg, he could have stopped the blood fountaining from his buddies shattered groin. That was the end of my joy.I was born to the ground and the guy whose gun I'd borrowed pulled away. I hit the concrete surface hard. That was only the beginning of my issues. Radiating from the floor was cold beyond cold. I had the sensation of falling into the heart of a cold, dead star. How I even knew what the felt like was an impossibility."He feels very cold," protested one of the two guards, in Mandarin; pulling me back to my feet groused."If your incompetence has led to his terminal condition," the male twin threatened. I felt the approach of the female twin, her reaching for me. A new intense pain seared me to the cores of my bones. Before she yanked my hair up, my body reignited.I found myself stared into her pitiless eyes that regarded me with the casual callousness of a veterinarian preparing to put down some rabid stray dog. She ran three fingers over my cheek."What are you babbling about?" she snapped at the two commandoes. "If anything, he is feverish.""Zhen, have him sedated," Chief Necromancer demanded. "Mu, now we will do this my way." Once more I was bound. Someone stabbed a needle into my right triceps. That was a mere discomfort. If I had any consolation, it was hearing Mu ordering the execution of the two men I'd shot.They didn't have the time and facilities to tend to their immediate emergency needs and taking them to a trauma center wasn't going to happen. Those two went into body bags. I had to assume they would be joining us on the plane, though they'd be in the cargo compartment."What are you smiling at?" I heard Zhen snapping before my world collapsed down to a pinhole of light."Lady, I don't know what you said," Aya declared happily. "You are probably angry that Cáel has already killed two of you and we haven't even got off the ground yet." I heard a sound I couldn't make out followed by another and finally a third. That resulted in an Aya-squeak. Ah, she'd tried to hit Aya and Aya had dodged the first two blows. Good girl."Cáel isn't going to like you doing that," Aya chirped."Aya's a winner," I mumbled. I wasn't in control of my senses when they dragged me onto a waiting jet. I wasn't worried. With Aya at my side, I was invincible.DreamingI looked at her face, so youthful, beautiful in her own way, yet far from innocent. She bore a terrible weight. The armor she was wearing, that of a heavy horseman of the steppe, was a leather coat, chain links over her vulnerable regions (throat, underarms and skirt), with the rest being covered by darkened bronze plates.Her iron helmet was open-faced with mobile plates covering her cheeks as well as the sides and the back of her neck; it bore a white horse-hair plume, it was the only feature of her panoply that would draw any special attention her way. She carried no shield. Instead, she wielded a powerful horn & sinew composite recurve bow. She used her knees to rise up on her mount and fire over the mare's head.Similarly attired women rode close to either side of this young woman. Both were older; one in her early forties and the other ~ late thirties. The one to the left bore a lance, not in the couched fashion most people today are familiar with, but used in a double-handed over-head fighting style.The woman to the right fought with a strange blade. It wasn't saber ~ an ancestor of that blade perhaps. It was about a meter long, no hand guard, single-edged except for the top 4 cm on the back side which was equally sharp. Her left hand remained free. I think I saw her purpose. If the young woman got into difficulty, her guardian on the right could pull her horse away and lead the woman to safety.Behind and beside those three rode perhaps three hundred of their sisters. Those in the center were as heavily armored as those three. On each flank were the lighter, faster bow-women, on smaller steeds. The women in the center rode larger mounts that were good for carrying weight and pushing home a charge, while the flanking steppe ponies were virtually tireless.In the center, identified only by her long golden-mane helm, was the Golden Mare ~ War Leader of the Host. The Amazons didn't fly pennants or carry banners. They judged the course of battle by that woman's head movements (the mane was quite long) and the shrill horn blasts unique to the Amazons.Let the barbarians have the all too common deep booming horns calls and their totems raised high for the world to see. Let the Romans keep their trumpets and Legion standards. Amazons had been putting those fools in their graves from time immemorial. Right now, those horns had summoned the Host to a trot.The Hun, Attila, had tasked the Sarmatian Chieftain, under whose banner they rode, to deal with another crisis, the third this short day. Once more, they directed their horses over Catalaunian Fields. The Ostrogoth had gotten themselves into a world of trouble, those filthy, stinking Germans (why was I even thinking that way?)First the Amazons had ridden forth on Attila's right, reinforcing the allied Germanic tribes on the Right Wing in their attempt to force a wedge between Aetius' Romans and King Sangiban's Alans. They'd shown the fools the way, but the supporting Gepids cavalry was too timid and by the time they began to approach, the Golden Mare had been forced to sound 'retire'.The Roman auxiliary cavalry, though of poor quality, had plugged the gap. The Host were too few and too valuable (in their estimation) to die holding a position that their 'allies' might not rescue them from. Next, they had been directed to attack the center of the Alan cavalry line in support of the Huns.Despite the cowardice of their king, the Alans were hardy fighters and too accustomed to the style of steppe warfare that the Host practiced to be lured away from their position. Arrows were exchanged and brief, brutal skirmishes developed, but no advantage was gained. With their mounts exhausted, the Golden Mare had ordered the Host to retired to their camp to water their horses and refill their quivers.That bit of common sense and tactical wisdom placed them in their present crisis. Their Ostrogoth allies had been beating themselves against their Visigoth cousins all afternoon, charging up the same cursed slope that any sane commander would have found a way to flank. No, the Germans had failed seven times using the same plan, so they tried an eighth.Miraculously, they had gained a toehold on the ridgeline and killed the Visigothic King. Like a mob of mindless farmers, the Ostrogoths stopped to celebrate their 'victory' and taunt the Visigoths with the mutilated body of their fallen leader. The Visigoths had been properly incensed and counter-attacked. That's what Princes were for, to avenge their fallen Sires.As the Host exited the Hunnic laager, they'd seen the calamity unfold. The wavering Visigoth infantry had stiffened their line. Believing the Ostrogoths would press forward, the Horse-tail banner of Attila himself broke away from the central Hunnic body, pivoted to his left and thundered into the Visigoth's exposed flank.In the din of battle, it may have looked to the Great Warlord that he had a vanishing opportunity for victory. From the valley below, it was much clearer to the Amazons that the moment to break the Visigothic infantry had passed. The Huns were too tired; their mounts frothing from a long, hot afternoon of battle. Without a swift follow-through, the attack was doomed.At that point, headlong flight for the Amazons wasn't possible. Their long term survival hung on the Hunnic King keeping his Germanic 'allies' in line. They were still somewhere in eastern Roman Gaul, with the Rhine to ford and a land thick with perpetually vicious, blood-thirsty, crotch-scratching, flea-bitten Germanic barbarians to cross before they saw the green rolling hills of home again.No, the Golden Mare, and that young lady knew they had to do something to stem the tide of this disaster for another hour, then darkness would force the combatants to separate so they could try their hand at battle the next day. As the Golden Mare rode to the Sarmatian Chieftain, a rider came through the dust from Attila. The Visigothic cavalry had returned with a vengeance and the Ostrogoths were folding up.The Sarmatians (with their attached Amazons) were to 'somehow' repair the situation. As the Chieftain, the Golden Mare and three Sarmatian tribal leaders hastily discussed the actions. They saw the Hunnic Right, under hard pressure from the Roman attack, beginning to disintegrate. Of immediate concern was the rift opening up between the retreating Hunnic Gepids and the Hunnic horsemen holding the center.King Sangiban had finally discovered his manhood. The Alans attacked through that gap in the Hunnic lines and a rout was in the offing. The Sarmatian Leader decided he had to answer Attila's call. The Golden Mare offered to take her Amazons and whichever tribal leader volunteered first to ride with her against the Alans.She drew her sword and held it aloft then motioned the Sarmatians to look at her shadow."We will hold them off until the length of our swords double (the shadow). Then we are all on our own," she offered. There was no further discussion necessary. There was nothing else to say. The Host and their allies had the fresher horses and full quivers.The Alans had numbers but no heavy horse present, yet. The Host had answered Attila's call to war and now, nearly a year away from their homes in the forested steppe lands of modern-day Bukovina. At that moment they were wondering how few of them would ever see their horse herds roaming free this side of life.That was where my vision came in ~ that woman was 'Ishara', the last of my major bloodline of the first Ishara and this was the last hour of her life. The other two women were the only other two members of that vanishing bloodline. One was her aunt and the other a cousin. Despite the dire peril to their lineage, they joined their sisters in battle.Even though they were outnumber 2 to 1, the Amazons swept aside the first burst of Alans, scattering their bands and hunting the slowest of them down. Rushing alone to fill the gaping hole in the main battle lines was to abandon all tactical sense. Eighty Amazon heavy horse and perhaps twenty more Sarmatians ~ they were integrated now ~ alone simply weren't enough.For the roughly 300 lightly armored horse-archers, it would be a pointless suicide and that was not the Amazon way. Instead, they scattered the initial Alan rush then gently trotted back down the slope. Of course, the Alans regrouped and followed. It was the battle pulse of steppe skirmishing.By simply existing, they turned the rushing wave of that first Alan charge into a slowly strengthening tide. The Alans' mounts were tired and in need of water. Their quivers were nearly empty and some were seen at the top of the slope looting the quivers of the fallen. Whenever they could, the Amazons killed those clever souls.Killing an archer closer to you who only had two arrows left wasn't as economical as killing the one who was both dismounted, thus an easier shot, and about to have fifteen bolts to use against you. Without the constant harassment, the Gepids were able to keep their retreat orderly. In turn, the other Germanics farther to the right kept their mobs relatively intact as well.Their success earned them the inevitable enemy reaction. From his vantage point, the Roman Aetius saw the vulnerable and unsupported position the Amazons held. If he could push past the Amazon screen, he could still achieve a route instead of accepting a mere victory for his side. The solution was a force of

Today Colin & Justin belatedly talk about stories and headlines to come out of the outdoor adventure community. Belatedly because the flu recently landed right on Justin's handsome face!On the docket:Last weekend there were protests held at National Parks across the country. Are we feeling encouraged about the state of things? (06:03)A non profit in Kentucky purchased 700 acres and 14 miles of cliffline to establish new climbing areas. Is this a road map for when our public lands are sold off? (10:10)We debut a new segment presented by Obōz: Q&A Corner! Where we ask the questions and listeners send in their responses. This week: Do branded athletes really matter anymore? Send your responses to myrockfight@gmail.com. (20:43)A man who spent the past five months attempting to row from San Diego to Brisbane had to be rescued after getting caught in a cyclone. This may be the scariest outdoor thing ever. (31:18)It's time for The Parting Shot! This week Justin has stern words for his favorite author and Colin celebrates a study that celebrates swearing! (36:30)Check out hundreds of wildly cool products by visiting and shopping at Garage Grown Gear!Click here to take The Rock Fight Podcast Listener Survey! Thanks for listening! The Rock Fight is a production of Rock Fight, LLC. Sign up for NEWS FROM THE FRONT, Rock Fight's weekly newsletter by heading to www.rockfight.co and clicking Join The Mailing List.Please follow and subscribe to The Rock Fight and give us a 5 star rating and a written review wherever you get your podcasts.Want to pick a fight with The Rock Fight? Send your feedback, questions, and comments to myrockfight@gmail.com.

Not the welcome we expectedWhen your tour guide is an assassin, what can go wrong?By FinalStand. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.You can do wrong while trying to do right.FlashbackAlal's 'milk of human kindness' had finally run dry as the Visigoths sacked his Roman villa. While looters ran off with his latest trappings of wealth, and deserted by his servants and his slaves, Grandpa decided that he was tired of fucking around with the Human Race. He felt they were simply too stupid, venal and weak to make any positive, lasting changes in the world.Alal decided that he was going to make the key choices for them. Fuck free will. Fuck letting the vermin that floated to the top of the cesspool destroy everything good in the world, as he had witnessed them doing time and time again. He had lost count of the monuments destroyed, histories of peoples forgotten and benefits to mankind burned away by barbarism and ignorance.By the fading light of August the 26th, 410 CE, Alal found himself sitting back in the pergola (a sort of mini-gazebo) in his rear gardens, drinking through several amphora of wine all the while having a deep philosophical debate with the several dozen very dead Goths decorating his environs.As three or four looters would enter the garden, he would kill them. And then three or four more would show up looking for the earlier group,, on and on. This reinforced Alal's belief that something drastic had to be done. He seriously considered going to the coast, getting a ship and five solid stone anchors. He'd sail out two days, maybe three, wrap himself in the anchors and jump overboard.The problem, as he saw it, was that given a few decades, the ropes would rot and he'd bob to the surface to see again that none of the fundamentals had changed. Further complicating his current thinking was that every time he came close to throwing in the cosmic towel, some more GOD DAMN GOTHS would come around, calling for their buddies, the dead ones. Somewhere around noon on August the 27th, Alal vowed that he was tired of this shit.Right on cue, around twenty Goths came strolling through the rear of his villa and soaked up the carnage out back. Fifty-two of their brethren were in various states of dismemberment and defilement (Alal had been, as usual, angry). They saw this dark-skinned Roman and rightly asked 'where's the army that killed these fellows?' He walked up to them in his wine-splashed toga."Are you the one in charge?" he asked the meanest looking Visigoth in passible Goth."I am," the leader responded. With lightning speed, he killed the man with his own sword. The Germans weren't sure what to make of that, it had happened so fast."You can join me," Alal indicated himself, "or you can join him," he indicated the corpse of their former leader. He had his new band of followers and the rest was Illuminati history.End FlashbackFor me, this meant more to me than living with the memories of a very bitter, driven and pitiless man. Alal was essentially the anti-me. It gave me chills to realize that all of Alal's gifts were bestowed on me with a purpose. I knew it was part of his greater plan. Normally, to end-run an evil genius, you just find him and kill him. Not only would Alal not stay dead, I now knew how well he could fight.I knew only four people who might be in his league, and I wasn't one of them. Of the four, Sakuniyas wasn't likely to help Pamela, Saint Marie and Elsa get the job done. That meant I had to rev up the deception engine to comfort my Aunts with hope, while dispelling the knowledge of how little they mattered to their sire. Almost as bad, I had to ignore what horribly people they were while extending that portion of my soul.It was with some relief that I hugged, kissed, and forcefully separated myself from the Aunts in Dublin. We were going on to Budapest's Ferenc Liszt International Airport. My next action was to make my request to Selena for a contract with the Ghost Tigers to defend Hana when she arrived in Russia. (Of the three 9 Clan Assassin-Babes, Selena was the least impressed with me.) She informed me that the Ghost Tigers didn't do bodyguard work. I still wanted her to relay my request, so she relented. After that, I passed out.We left Dublin around 9:30 am Friday morning and landed in Budapest at 1:45 pm., still Friday. As Rachel rousted me so I could grab a quick shower before touchdown, I was gifted with the misconceptions of my fellow travelers:To put it nicely, Riki thought I was somewhat revolting, Virginia was disturbed and Chaz had lowered his opinion of my moral character. It was the incest thing. Vincent being polite was a pleasant surprise, Delilah's camaraderie less so and Odette was peaches with my most recent sexcapades. She was far too good to me. The Amazons uniformly didn't give a crap."So, is there going to be any other bizarre behavior we should be prepared for?" Riki sat down next to me as I was drying my hair. I was back to my 'jeans, t-shirt and wind-breaker' style."Fine, " I said loudly. "It is really none of your business what I did with and to my mother's clones. Yes, they are all clones of my mother, who died when I was seven." A lie."They are also the genetic creations of my grandfather, also known by many as Cáel O'Shea. They are sterile, they are wickedly evil, and two weeks ago I didn't know they existed. I do have a real aunt in Maryland. She's my Father's sister and is not part of the menagerie. Oh yeah, my grandpa is currently a disembodied spirit, back from the Netherworld and looking for a body to take over, if he hasn't found one already," I added."He was born roughly five thousand years ago, was cursed by an ancient Sumerian Goddess such that he can never just die and stay dead. I have his memories running around my head, which, along with denying me a good night's sleep, allows me to speak an assortment of languages, use virtually every weapon built before 1970 and know that he is a vicious criminal mastermind the likes of which you've never imagined outside of fiction.How does that sound, Riki? Shall I get more bizarre? Trust me, I can," I regarded her evenly. She was speechless, but not out of awe. No, she was certain that I was completely unhinged."Everyone who believes Cáel, raise their hand," Odette demanded. Her hand went up. Odette and the Amazons agreeing was expected by the outsiders. Delilah and Virginia joining in was not."Captain Fairchild?" Colour Sgt. Chaz Tomorrow requested clarification."You've all seen those five O'Shea's that left the plane in Ireland. Barring some cosmetic changes, they were the exact same woman. You can either go with Sean Connery's Tak-ne creating a female clone army, or you can believe there is an otherworldly plastic surgeon altering a cadre of super-rich bitches to all look alike," Delilah, who was a captain of something, put out there."Who in the Hell is Tak-ne?" Riki mumbled."Duh," I poked the State Department lassie. "Connor MacLeod's Egyptian mentor in Highlander, the original movie and in the less than stellar sequel, Highlander: The Quickening"."You are mistaken. Connery was that Spanish guy," Riki poked me back."Actually, the relevant quote is: 'I am Juan Sánchez Villalobos Ramírez, Chief metallurgist to King Charles V of Spain. And I'm at your service'," Vincent regaled us with his movie trivia. "He later reveals that he was born Tak-ne in Egypt in the 9th century BCE. Also, his Spanish name makes no sense, he has one too many surnames.""Agent Loire, I am beginning to find intelligent men to be attractive," Charlotte said."Umm, thank you," Vincent responded warily."This might be a good point to get something clear," Chaz inquired. "Mr. Nyilas, whose side are you on? It appears to be rather complicated.""Okay, Chaz, call me Cáel. Calling me Mr. Nyilas makes me miss my dad. I can also be addressed as Cáel 'Wakko' Ishara, Head of House Ishara of the First Twenty Houses of the Amazon Host. Or, you can call me what the Great Khan does, Magyarorszag es Erdely Hercege. Finally, those who love me, or find me amusing, may call me Fehér mén."Selena's snort indicated she'd failed to hide her amusement at my presumptiveness, both titular and physically."Do you want to explain what's so amusing?" Riki looked over to the Black Hand assassin."Your job should be exceptionally easy now," Selena mocked me, "Prince of Hungry and Transylvania, or do you prefer 'White Stud'?""Laugh while you can, Monkey-Girl," I sneered. "The guy currently making a run at erasing seven hundred years of Asian history gave me that title. As for Fehér mén, that means 'White Stallion' and is symbolic of my ties to House Epona, not a phallic reference." Riki's look had gone from disgust, to anger (because she thought she was being played) and lastly, to shock."No," I interpreted her fear. "I am not here as some vanguard to unite the Magyar people to their cultural kinfolk in Central Asia. If you know your Central European history, you might recall that the Mongols devastated my homeland. For the next 450 years, the Turks were unwelcome visitors, conquerors and overlords. My princely status is a pat on the head for a job well done and nothing more.""What job did you do?" Riki prodded."I saved a man's life," I looked pained to admit. She didn't get it."It must have been a major VIPs life," Chaz suggested."You can say that," Pamela nodded. "End of discussion time too."At Ferenc Liszt International, we were diverted to a private hangar once more, courtesy of the Republic of Ireland's diplomatic umbrella. Three grey Ford Focuses and a white panel truck advertising a furniture repair store awaited us. Security issues were immediately obvious. They wanted to separate us (in the Fords) from most of our luggage (in the truck).The five guy welcoming party hid under the cloak of 'don't speak any language you claim to speak' and Selena was of zip help. So, I spoke to them in Hungarian. They glanced my way, but didn't respond. Serbian? Nope. Romanian? Nope."Bows and doves," I commanded.That translated rather logically as 'guns/bows' and 'phones/doves'. Out came our pistols. The only Black Hand to react fast enough was Selena and Pamela had her covered. The Amazons were aiming at the locals while Delilah and Chaz had their weapons out and scanning. Vincent and Virginia hadn't been fast enough, this time. They also didn't have guns pointed at them.The lead BH flunky began talking calmly in German, heavily Slavic accented German."What do you think you are doing?" he inquired of me, in German."Disarming you, ya Moron," I grumbled. Then added in Hittite; "Go", and in my Amazons went to very roughly search, disarm and de-phone our not so friendly friends."Alright, gather up your luggage," I called out to my group. "We are walking to town." That wasn't truly accurate. There was a metro associated with the airport, a kilometer away max. Our guides didn't speak English so they were rather surprised when the bags came out of the truck and were distributed to their owners. Riki Martin and Odette were in some trouble.Girls and 'only packing the necessities', Well, we had some diplomatic lumber to toss at the security services, Vincent had web-searched our location and the route we needed to take to the metro, and Delilah had purchased week-long public transport passes for the group. Only when we started marching out of the hangar did the BH comprehend the totality of their error.The five guys in the hangar were chattering away, in Hungarian, and Selena was peeved."You are upsetting my superiors by blatantly disrespecting their courtesy," she reminded me. "They have guaranteed your safety.""Less than a day has passed since the shootout in London, Selena," I countered."This is the Black Hand's backyard," Selena persisted, "not London.""So, you are only going to help us if we do stupid shit we wouldn't do, even on our own home ground, is that it?" I chuckled. "Sweet," then, to my people, "I guess we are on our own."The airport security guards didn't know what to make of our group of over-worked Sherpa, but the US State department and the RoI (Republic of Ireland) vouched for us, so they let us pass.We hadn't taken the cars and the truck because that would have been theft. The confiscated guns and phones had been disassembled and tossed into a large iron drum of used aviation lubricant. Odette began shopping around for hotel reservations (I was carrying most of her gear). She was the logical choice because she sounded the most human of the bunch.Selena called her people back, explained the fuck up and engaged in a mutual ass-chewing that spilled over a half-dozen languages and ended up with Dick-head, the local BH chieftain providing us with quarters that would turn a blind eye to our arsenal. With that address in mind, we made for the bowels of modern Budapest.Dutifully, Riki contacted the US Embassy to Hungary's CIA mission head and Chargé D' Affaires, a.i., updating them on our arrival and movements. At the last moment, I had Riki relay the wrong address, on a paranoid hunch. I was right to be paranoid except I was looking in the wrong direction.We had just disembarked at the Kőbánya-Kispest M3 station when we walked into the rolling ambush. A 'rolling ambush' is like a meeting engagement, the difference being that one side (ours) is on the move, not knowing it is being hunted while the other side (our attackers) was rushing to catch up with us, not knowing where along the path they would find us.As we preparing to transition from the station to the attached terminal, looking for the bus line that would connect us to the BH safe house in the Kőbánya (X) District, our attackers were dismounting their vehicles from across the street as well as to our left and right. They were dressed like cops. Had they been armed like cops,"Oh look," I snickered to Pamela, "I see a whole bunch of heavily armed people coming our way.""Good for you," Pamela muttered. "Your eyes are still working.""Do you think they are here to raise me up on their shields and proclaim me 'Prince'?" I joked."I think they are here to kill us," Pamela grinned."I prefer to think positively," I grinned back."I am positive they are here to kill us," Pamela laughed. It had to be our relaxed demeanor that confused them.Had we been the droids they were looking for, we wouldn't have been chatting in the open with our bags in our hands. That would have made us crazy, and they would have been right. We were crazy alright and there was a method to our madness. It was mid-afternoon, yet there were plenty of average Hungarians wandering about.Sure, they saw the 'special cops' closing in. They didn't see the upcoming shoot-out because that was plain nuts. A gun battle in a modern metropolis in broad daylight? London yesterday was an aberration, not the new normal. Our impromptu plan was to let the killers get as close as possible to limit the collateral damage.This wasn't classic Amazon training. It was a concession to allies who did care about civilians killed in the cross-fire. The oncoming hit squad was finally putting faces to targets when Odette broke the calm before the storm. All she did was squeak when Vincent pushed her behind a kiosk. Riki took Virginia shifting her to cover in silence.Delilah took off at a dead-run to the south-east. They were raising their shotguns and assault rifles. We were drawing our pistols. Normally this would have been an unequal match, except that in the time period where, in their eyes, we had gone from bystanders to targets, they'd also covered a good deal of ground, to the point that they were out in the open while my fighting band was in close proximity to all kinds of cover.It started out as eighteen to twelve. Pamela, Chaz and Selena quickly cut down those odd by five. Me? I didn't try to shoot and run at the same time, so I made it to cover and was stuck there by our opponents use of fully-automatic fire.My lack of martial prowess could be forgiven by the reality I was the one they were trying to off. My greatest contribution to this skirmish was tossing my SPAS-12 to Chaz so he could use something more than his standard military issue Glock-17. I had barely gotten Chaz's appreciative nod when two grenades went off in close proximity to me.At first, I heard and felt nothing. My eyes were having trouble focusing. When my limbs began to orient themselves, I had to fight down the instinct to move. I was lying down, which was far safer than staggering around in the middle of this hail of lead. The twin grenades turned out to be their second and very fatal mistake on this mission.The first had been their delay in identifying my group. The second, using the stun grenades, did put me, Pamela and Selena out of commission temporarily. But their mistake was having misplaced my six Amazons in this mess they had created. They did have thirteen shooters versus Chaz, Virginia and Vincent. They rushed our position using the classic advance while firing rote.Two meters from me, the six Amazons revealed themselves with five P-90's and one big-ass bow. Four escaped the kill zone only to find themselves flanked by Delilah. Her .480, combined with their confusion, finished off the survivors. That wasn't the end of it. We still had to effect our get-away.I was still getting my head on straight as the ladies decided to hotwire some of the deceased men's rides and get us the heck out of Dodge. Recovery brought with it the knowledge that Virginia and Chaz had been shot. Pamela, Selena and me, we had some scrapes and bruises. Everyone else checked out. Mona let us know that she could handle the wounded. They wouldn't be doing jumping jacks for a week or two, but a hospital was not required. On the downside, no one believed that eighteen killers dressed as cops randomly rolled up on our transit point by accident. The only people who knew about our change in travel plans had been the Black Hand. We'd lied to the US.We broke into an abandoned factory to stash the vehicles and make our next plan. Selena was coldly furious. Not only did she come to the same conclusion we had, the Black Hand had set us up to be murdered, we weren't letting her call in. Wiesława and Charlotte kept their guns pointed at her, so low was our level of trust.Chaz was pretty much of the opinion that Selena should be coerced to provide us with the names and locations of the Black Hand involved so that we could do our own 'fact finding tour'. Oddly, none of the Americans asked to be pulled out. Vincent and Riki wanted to let the US Embassy know what had happened, yet were willing to wait until we were secure somewhere first.Rachel was on board with Chaz's idea, with the addendum that they kill every Black Hand they could get their hands on before fleeing the city. They had tried to kill ME after all. I was touched. It was Pamela who put things in perspective.1) The attackers were not Black Hand, they were mercenaries and that pointed a bloody finger at the Condottieri.2) Selena wasn't a fanatic and her life had been in as much danger as anyone else's. She wasn't part of our ambush. Her buddies had tossed her under the bus.3) It would have been far easier to catch us in that convoy they'd tried to stick us with. Caught in pre-planned crossfires and without our heavier weapons, we would have all died.4) Having failed to deliver us to the pre-planned ambush site, the Condottieri had to rush to our metro stop because, the safe house they had prepared for us wouldn't have worked. We had the numbers to allow us take total charge of our security once we were in place. No, gauging our numbers, this traitor had sent the mercs into a straight-up fight they'd just lost.

In honor of Gabriel Donnelly recently finishing his first-time reading of Marx's “Capital,” Volume I, from cover to cover, Andrew Kliman interviews him about the experience. Gabriel is asked why it took him so long, and what the experience was like. Andrew gets in on the fun, telling the story of his own first-time reading. The co-hosts also discuss several aspects of “Capital,” including the concept of labor-power and the distinction between absolute and relative surplus-value, and why it is important—and possible—to read “Capital” without a reading guide, despite the supposed difficulty of the text. The co-hosts hope that this episode will inspire any listener who hasn't yet cracked the spine to dive into this text.

Simon's weekly chronicle of events in the United States for Tom Swarbrick's Friday night drivetime programme on LBC.  Listen live every Friday at 5:50pm, or find it on demand here afterwards. 

Taliyah.Based on a post by FinalStand, in 13 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. By lunchtime, she was beginning to feel somewhat selfish. Mikhail had been attentive with a totally unexpected devotion all morning long. While Taliyah was emotionally conflicted about her parent's most recent feuding, it was systematic of a much deeper rift she'd always felt among them. She'd always sensed it; as if something was missing in their lives.To be honest with herself, at first she'd been secretly pleased when Brandy's home life had imploded last summer. Not only had she found herself lusting for Darius over Rashaan, she'd long been envious of the seeming closeness between Big Bob and Jodi May. She'd felt furtive elation when Brandy's mom eloped with Senior Deputy Jenks, shattering the illusion of their happy household.Only later, as she saw the daily sadness in Big Bob, had she begun to regret her envy-driven vindictiveness. Unlike her own, rather distant Father, Big Bob Carson had always made Taliyah welcome in his home and with his daughter. His treatment of her had never jibed with the claims about the White man's supposed racism. In her home, they joked about him, yet she'd never heard Big Bob make a single racist slur in her presence.No, Brandy's Dad had treated her like his second daughter; even going so far to call out Brandy when she was being a bitch to her. As far back as elementary school, he'd made her feel as if Taliyah had a second house to call home; and then Taliyah had repaid his repeated kindness by taking perverse pleasure as his home fell apart. She'd watched Brandy fall into depravity under Darius' spell and said nothing.Taliyah wondered about the vagaries of karma. Brandy's family had been ripped apart and now so was hers. Brandy had found Vlad and now she had Mikhail. This morning, Brandy's mom had come back; and her Mom was here as well. But her Father was nowhere in evidence. Her Mother, Madam Mayor, hadn't mentioned him once.‘Taliyah,' Kaelyne disturbed her ruminations, ‘we're picking sides for volleyball.'Kaelyne was another transformative presence who had snuck into her life as of late. Her knee-jerk reaction when learning the little White girl had a lesbian crush on her was to lash out and mock her. That had infuriated Mrs. Samsonov, pain had rapidly followed. That old White bitch had forced Taliyah to apologize the next day.Over the rest of the following week Taliyah had found herself studying the way Kaelyne looked at her; and hadn't been repulsed. Still, until today she hadn't taken the lesbian's affections seriously. Kaelyne was sensitive to Taliyah's pain and~ compassionate without being obtrusive. Taliyah had responded with a lessening of her often acidic wit.With Brandy taking on solo duties as hostess, Taliyah had been able to recoup in the company of her boyfriend; and 'girlfriend'; thus the source of her guilt. According to Mrs. Samsonov's plan, Brandy and Taliyah had to share their guys with the rest of the Cheer Squad over the course of the day.From what they'd been told, it would keep the cheerleaders firmly out of the hands of the Football Team and other member of the 'Cult of the BBC'; as that racist, psychotic bitch, Gayle Samsonov, called it. And, from what Taliyah and Brandy could see, it made all the ones who had been with their fellas so far want them and only them; it was spooky and somewhat frustrating to watch because Mikhail was her man, damn it!Not in the way Rashaan had been her man because Rashaan hadn't even been his own man, just another pawn of Darius Pope's little high school empire; like her and Brandy. Maybe that was why she was so drawn to the youngest triplet's fierce independence. He was harder to influence than Rashaan had been; which wasn't quite so.She could, in private, convince Rashaan to do things, plan things and stand up for himself, but all the results of her efforts evaporated when he was around Darius; and now she realized that would always be the case for someone like Rashaan. He was good looking and could project leadership, but there was never anything behind it. No drive. No great willpower to overcome any real opposition; and most likely, there never would be.With Mikhail; God! He was so different. Sure he was infuriating, but Taliyah found herself able to cut loose around him; to pop him one when she felt he was doing something stupid; and it wasn't as if he even minded. Oh no, that didn't mean he'd acquiesce, far from it. Normally he'd laugh and evade, taunting her. Yet, that was the way he'd grown up around his brothers and Taliyah was beginning to figure out he was allowing her to treat him the same way; that was was something special.He and his brothers were rough-n-tumble. They had a code for their fighting. While their Code didn't make the inevitable conflicts any less brutal, it at the same time expressed ample fair play, honesty and integrity. And afterwards; there was never any ill will between them. They fought and shit got settled; and Taliyah liked that. That Mikhail allowed her to lay into him was, according to his Mamma, very intimate and personal; and Taliyah was coming to appreciate this fact.‘Mikhail, why don't you and Kaelyne teach my 'Sisters' on the Cheer Squad some manners,' she touched his hand. They were side by side at the counter in the kitchen, him finishing off a few carrot slices while she drank some Gatorade. ‘I need to talk to my Mamma; alone.' Mikhail gave her a brief eye contact, nodded once, and then turned to leave.‘Kaelyne,' she found herself reaching out, stroking the girl's cheek and rubbing her earlobe, ‘Thank you.' The way the smaller woman positively glowed gave Taliyah a spike of pride. She still didn't think she was into girls, but she'd been showering with Brandy since before they were teenagers. A few times Brandy had ran her hands curiously over her darker friend's skin, wishing she tanned so well.In turn, Taliyah had run her hands through Brandy's long, blonde hair, feeling the difference between its silky texture and her own, coarser locks and wishing her hair was so easy to manage. The two girls, lifelong friends, had never considered their behavior anything which 'made them gay'. They were curious and comfortable in each other's presence was all.Taliyah pushed herself away from the counter, turned and dismounted her stool. She'd put up a wall against the World all morning long and she knew she was better than that. She'd wanted her Mother to come and talk to her; to talk to her about her Father; her Mother's husband; and what she was going to do about fixing things. Her Mamma was always the responsible one in the family and had taught her daughter to be the same way. Somehow; her Mamma had to make this right.Le ‘Pearl' Yates.For Le it had been a wild, chaotic week. Things had started out so bad, but not in a way the other girls in the Cheer Squad would have understood. Monday morning, like most of the others; except Brandy and Taliyah; she had been seriously jonesing for some BBC. Hell, unlike every other member of the squad, getting the best cock was why she'd fought so hard to be selected as one of the school's elite bitches in the first place.She hadn't always been that way.Le had been a late bloomer. Worse, she'd never been part of any crowd while growing up. Her Vietnamese-American Mother had come to Kingston from the Texas Gulf Coast to be a nurse. Her Father, the White guy her Mother married, was an oilman working in the Gulf of Mexico months at the time.He was really happy when his wife told him she was pregnant. His company even flew him to Arkansas when she went into delivery early. Let's just say his reaction when he held 'his' daughter wasn't all that joyous. He divorced her a year later and Le had only seen him a few times since. Things had been; tense.It took her a few years to figure out she wasn't like anyone else. Her Mother's extended family, fisher-folk back in Texas, always treated her badly and the younger ones called her names, which was why her Mom had returned to Kingston after a few years. When she was six, she finally figured out she was a 'half-breed' and not in a 'good way'. No White blood had 'watered' down her complexion.Her eyes were product of her Mother's Vietnamese heritage while her nose was from West Africa. He skin was darker than her Mother's, not lighter, and she was much taller, at 5'9', and a compact 112 lbs. Her ass was 'black enough', but her chest was 'too Asian' as in she clearly had the smallest bra size on the team.At the age of eight she'd finally asked her rather traditional Mother who her 'real' Daddy was. On her twelfth birthday, her Mother, after years of badgering, finally broke down and told Le the story. She'd been 'seduced' by a groundsman on the A S U Kingston campus while her 'White' Daddy had been away for months and months at sea. He'd been a smooth operator, her Mother told her.'But why isn't that man my Father now?' she'd pressed her Mother. She'd graduated to referring to the nebulous sperm donor as Father when she was ten. Her Mother hung her head in shame then confessed the Black bastard hadn't wanted her. When she'd told him she was pregnant with what was most likely his child, he'd seemed happy at first.Only as she got 'bigger', things had changed. One day she stumbled upon him cheating with another nursing student. She'd exploded in tears. After the 'new' girl had fled, he 'confessed' he had yet another girl pregnant and two other kids by two other women; and it was over between them. He dumped her.So, her Mother had prayed somehow Le would be born without her White Father figuring out her betrayal; but that hadn't worked out either. She even gave Le the sperm donor's name, Claude Sexton. It turned out Le had sixteen half-brothers and –sisters (by five different women) and he was currently serving time in prison for pharmaceutical theft. Claude's Mamma, her Granny, claimed he was 'not guilty' and some jealous bitch (usually White in her rantings) had set him up;What had fascinated Le though was the 'why' of her Mother's betrayal of her White 'Father'. The few times she'd met him he'd seemed nice. He had remarried, still made good money and had two other, White, children these days. He had never been cruel to her Mother as far as her Mother had ever revealed; so why had she jumped on some Black cock and risked such a profitable union?At the age of twelve, Le was still gangly and under-developed. Puberty was late to the party. Shortly after her Mom's revelation, she began looking at the Black boys at school differently. They were still going from the phase of teasing and bullying girls (and being teased and bullied by some of the bigger girls) to sending the ladies looks of hungry confusion.No guys ever looked at Le that way back then; but suddenly she wanted them to. When she entered High School, she was 'introduced' to the Cheer Squad / Football Team dynamic. All the hottest Black guys and most beautiful girls (Black and White) belonged to that top social tier; and she had no hope of getting in the way she was.She also had another niggling problem. She was smart and unfortunately, smart girls were Not what those two groups were looking for.But, Le had a Plan. First off, she took up a paper route to make enough money to join the Dance School; because the Cheerleaders always seemed to pick the Hot girls with dance experience; and her Mother couldn't afford to send her with what she made.Secondly, she began purposely getting 25 to 35% of all her homework and test answers wrong. Le had to lower her academic profile starting her freshman year so hopefully no one would remember how smart she had been in Middle School. She added to this deception by telling everyone her name was 'Pearl', even the teachers, and always wearing long pig tails because she thought it fed into the ‘Cutesy' Asian stereotype; and they bought it.Lastly, she began working on her physique and fashion sense to make herself more noticeable to the people who really mattered. Her body's natural development helped. Belatedly her hormones kicked in and her breast began to get bigger. Of equal importance, with all her exercise and dedication her 'lower chasse' began getting the boy's notice. When their eyes finally got to her face, they also noticed how exotically different she was.She enjoyed the first touching; and kissing. She also knew the unspoken rules: Don't be a skank and put out for just anybody. The Football Team only selected the most choice ladies and that included the ones they didn't consider 'total whores'; thus their exclusive property.She lucked out by having Randi Leigh Upshaw befriend her. Randi Leigh's mother had been a cheerleader back in the day and was currently a school booster and member of the PTA. Sure, Randi Leigh was a condescending, manipulative bitch, but she opened doors into social circles which would have been far harder to breach as an outsider.And all that degradation and hard work had paid off when the old Cheer Squad Team Captain handed her a cheer uniform, welcomed her to the team and then introduced her to her first gang-bang. Five long hours afterwards, the smiling Captain gave her a 'Morning After' pill and told her were to go to get her I U D. She'd been taking BBC five / six times a week ever since and loving it; her Mother's infidelity finally understood.Until, for some bizarre reason, Brandy and Taliyah, this year's Co-Captains, had decided to launch an utterly unlooked for and unwanted rebellion against Darius Pope; Football God and one of the best cocks on the team. Le had been blind-sided, as had all of the other cheerleaders. The only two questions were how much hell was Darius going to put those two through for their impertinence and who would end up in the top spot once he was done.But then Darius and six other footballers (including two of the other best cocks in Le's estimation) were destroyed in the school parking lot after a game. Her whole world appeared to crumble and changed. Randi Leigh; idiotically; threw herself at Rashaan as if he could somehow assume Darius' mantle. Le initially supported her because at least Randi Leigh promised a return to the glorious days of orgies and bukkake cum baths.Wednesday morning, it hadn't taken a telepath, or that guy from Psych, to figure out something serious had happened to both Randi Leigh and Sultana (the other challenger). Randi Leigh couldn't even keep Betty Jo Sterling (her other supporter) in line and poor Betty Jo was easily amused by a laser pointer and kitten emojis for God's sake!All that led to her being highly suspicious of Taliyah luring her, Vantrice Kirby and Mia Ryker to the Music Room during Lunch Thursday. Taliyah had told them the whole team was meeting yet when Le surreptitiously checked her iPhone App, only Brandy's phone was close by. She was actually kind of terrified some sort of beat-down was in the offing when they stumbled in and found;; Mikhail and Vlad Samsonov reclining on the piano cover with a sexual sated; no, devastated, Brandy Crystal Carson curled up between them. Le knew what 'fucked stupid' looked like and Brandy definitely qualified. Vantrice and Mia began protesting (these 'boys' weren't on the Football Team). Le was busy putting 'A' together with 'B' then 'C'.In this case: (A) Brandy and Taliyah's sudden defiance, (B) Randi Leigh and Sultana's sudden cessation of (serious) resistance and now (C) Brandy's obvious physical pleasure radiating out for all to see. Le's ever-present blow-pop nearly fell out of her mouth in shock. Whatever her other two teammates (Vantrice and Mia) were thinking, Le knew she had to have 'some of that'.‘Which one is for me?' she had turned to Taliyah, her carefully crafted 'silly little Asian girl' façade momentarily slipping. Taliyah grinned like the sly fox she thought she was.‘Mikhail is mine, but I can share,' she purred as she began to strip. Even as she joined Taliyah in removing her clothing, Le did her own eyeball math. Mikhail was definitely more intrigued with Vantrice than either her, or Mia.How did she know the difference between the two triplets? Well, anyone who thought it was Mikhail beaten up by Darius' people, not Alexander, was a fool. Darius wouldn't have made that error. Otherwise, Mikhail was looking at them like a starving wolf staring at pieces of meat; or sheep. Vlad's eyes kept flickering down to Brandy in something a less romantic person could confuse with love. She headed toward Vlad.‘Can you make me happy like Brandy?' Le sashayed toward the middle triplet, socially shedding 60 IQ points along the way. Boys liked them dumb, right?‘Le,' he smiled; not leered, ‘I think I can make you your own kind of happy,' he volleyed back. Okay, that second part was kind of sappy, but he actually recalled her real first name which hadn't happened in over a year.‘Pearl, stop that,' Vantrice got indignant. ‘These White boys; ‘‘I want to look like Brandy,' Le looked over her shoulder. ‘Don't you?'Vantrice stuttered, Mia was indecisive, Taliyah clearly wasn't going to let them bolt without a struggle and Mikhail was closing in to help.‘Sorry Mia, but I have a hunger for Black chicks,' he moved the blonde aside.‘What?' from Mia.‘Huh?' from Vantrice and;‘Best watch yourself, Mister,' from Taliyah, all aimed at Mikhail. Le opted to focus on Vlad who was certainly fixated on her.‘I want to taste,' she settled down beside him, reaching for his delicious looking piece of man-meat.‘How about we '69'?' he offered.‘I like the way you think,' she glowed. Normally they didn't give her the option. Le put her blow-pop on a desk then went to work.‘Eep!' she squeaked as he effortlessly picked her up and laid her out beside Brandy. He took a few licks of her vulva then;‘Mia, come over here,' he beckoned the blonde girl who seemed to be at loose ends. Le was too busy exploring the texture and taste of his glans and shaft. It was her first White cock; she'd had thicker; yet she felt it would be more than enough to satisfy if Vlad's stamina equaled his dimensions;‘Lay down beside her,' Vlad had directed Mia. She still seemed uncertain and Le wanted to keep Vlad happy for the nonce, so she reached up, took Mia by the hand and gently pulled her to her side.‘Ah; ‘ Mia began purring. Vlad must have been physically stimulating her with his right hand even as his mouth and left hand pleasured her. Damn; Vlad knew his stuff.The real magic began when, after she let him know she was ready; which had always been the reason for guys going down on her, to get her engine running; Vlad had gone to town on her cunt. He licked, tongue-twirled and nibbled her clit, put three fingers into her snatch and, after some teasing, another in her ass. She'd never had a guy pet her G-spot before, but Vlad did.Her inarticulate utterances weren't new, but more protracted than she was used to. She recovered quickly, yet not quickly enough to stop her new lover from moving on to Mia who gladly let him go down on her as well. Le had propped herself up and begun to look around when she noticed a reclining Brandy studying the three of them.‘That felt nice, really nice,' she communicated after a few seconds.‘Don't I know it,' Brandy sighed. She didn't seem to be unhappy with her, or Vlad. There was a pregnant pause as Vlad continued to devote himself to Mia's gratification. ‘All three triplets are wonderful, but I think I've got the best one.'‘Are we ever going to be with the Football Team again?' Le'd wondered.‘Hmmm; ‘ Brandy frowned then, ‘Vlad, Pearl isn't convinced.'And then he'd gone and 'convinced' her, which had been odd. For a moment, when he returned to her, he'd seemed distracted, or put out. Once he made eye contact, Le felt as if their whole world contracted down to just the two of them.Or that was how it had been recalled by Le later as she tried to remember every erotic murmur, sensuous movement, whispered word and tantalizing slap of flesh against flesh. They hadn't fucked. They had made love and until Vlad, she hadn't know the difference. It was sex; but with the difference being she felt he really gave a damn, and not only about how she felt right then, but how she felt, period. It had been so different; and exciting; and so worth repeating.Which brought her back to today, at Brandy's house, playing around the pool and trying not to pull Vlad aside for another round of whatever he had done to her. Le had been trying to figure out this new pecking order and how to best profit from it. She wasn't so egotistical she thought she could steal Vlad away from Brandy; she accepted Brandy had more of the feminine traits which drew Vlad's eyes.Then there was the ravenous way Randi Leigh regarded the young man when she thought Brandy wasn't keeping an eye on her. The way Betty Jo and Alondra teased him was even;‘You spend a whole bunch of time watching what other people are doing,' was whispered into her ear. Le nearly tumbled off the recliner she'd been using.She was able to catch her blow-pop before it fell out of her mouth with judicious use of her lips thus buying her a little more time and stopping her from gasping in fear. Mrs. Samsonov had snuck up on her.‘Ma; Ma; Mrs. Samsonov? Huh?' she was a bit too slow on the comeback.‘You can call me Gayle,' the crouched, mature lady regarded her; much like a feral cat gazing at a frightened field mouse.‘Ah; okay, Gayle,' she hammed it up with a cute tilt of the head. The older woman's eyes narrowed.‘I am beginning to think you aren't quite as dumb as you pretend to be,' Gayle murmured. ‘Now why would that be?'‘What be?' Le played along. Mrs. Samsonov's look became downright menacing.‘I don't like being played for the fool,' she whispered. ‘I'm real sure Vlad and his brothers will be even less amused.'Then, in a flash, the triplet's mother stood and smiled down at her, though Le could sense the humor didn't touch her eyes, or her words. ‘Have fun this weekend, Pearl. Act dumb around school if you like, but my children and I don't have time for such games.'‘I; Mrs.; Gayle, why; how did you figure it out?' Le's protests went from lame to a whisper. When denial was clearly no longer an option, she wanted to know what she'd done to give herself away.Gayle studied her for a few; very long; seconds.‘Smart people can act stupid, but stupid people can't act smart. That being said, really dumb people have bad body posture, often have their mouths open when they don't know what to say; not your candy; and don't react when they themselves say stupid shit,' Gayle enlightened her.‘You make simple statements, but not stupid ones; like Alondra and Betty Jo do. They stay stupid things while you don't. True, they are dumber than most, but they are the ones you are trying to model yourself after, failing, and failing in a manner a suitably observant person can pick up on. After all, for the past two years, how many guys, or girls, have wanted to test your conversational skills?'Le was taken aback at how helpful the older lady was and began taking mental notes.‘Are you; how angry are you with me?' Le worried.‘We accept you've had to deal with different social factors at Davis Consolidated (High School) before we came here. Choices you made last year and before now are in the past. If you don't want to learn from your mistakes, that's on you.'‘If we change?'‘You are no longer cum dumps for the Football Teams. You are the Supreme Female Social Organization with the Samsonov boys making sure you won't be abused, or used as sexual trophies.‘But there still will be sex?' Le gulped. Gayle Samsonov's countenance was downright savage.‘Would you do every member of the Football Team, or just my Vlad?' she posed the question (trap). Le really liked the Football gangbangs, blowjobs and bukkake sessions. Her hunger to embrace the madness which had turned her Mother away from her (White) Father and brought her (Le) into existence came into conflict with her desire to recapture the personal experience she'd shared with Vlad.‘Isn't he mostly interested in Brandy?'‘He's devoted to Brandy, but Brandy will let him spend time with you as long as you support Brandy and Taliyah; plus you keep Vlad's interest because it is the right thing to do,' Mrs. Samsonov explained. Le wasn't used to thinking of either Brandy, or Taliyah, as magnanimous, except;‘Do Brandy and Taliyah confide in you?' Le made an educated leap. Of course, Taliyah's mother was opposed to all things Fonteneau; but here she was, chaperoning the same party, and Brandy had been utterly under Darius' spell at the start of the year; yet clearly was now madly devoted to Gayle's middle son.Gayle's grin lost some of its hostile quality.‘Clever indeed.'Le gave a shy smile in response.‘Enjoy the weekend, Pearl. Open up to Vlad if you get the chance. He's not intimidated by smart women, he likes reading; not as much as sex, but he's still happy to learn; and teach,' Gayle imparted. As she walked away, Le had to wonder how her whole world had transformed; no; evolved. She hoped it was evolving into something much more intriguing than what they were all surrendering. She jumped up and ran to catch up with the older woman. There was so much more she could learn.Victoria ‘Mad Vicky' Orem.‘Come on, Alexander, join us beating up these cheerleader-bitches,' Vicky pleaded with the oldest Samsonov triplet. She'd scampered over to him because her team needed the help and she wasn't sure Kaelyne would be able to return with Mikhail (and Taliyah) from inside.Currently it was her, Kaelyne, Vlad, Sgt. Louisa Petrakis (the State Cop) and Ms. Blanchard versus Missy Brandy, Sultana, Noémie Lucie, Amber Lee and Misty Dawn. With the size, or lack thereof, of herself and Kaelyne, the plan was to replace Ms. Blanchard and the Sarge with Mikhail and/or Alexander.‘I'm still busted up,' he grinned up at her.‘Oh, come on. Don't be a wimp,' she teased him, her fists on her thin, boney hips and thrust out her small chest. Her brand new white, string bikini shown on her tan-less body with the top being so conservative with the fabric it consisted of little more than two tringles kept together by their tie strings. If only she'd had more than 'A' cup sized boobs to fill them;‘Well, if you can pull me up, I'll do my best,' he conceded. Sure, she was 90 lbs. soaking wet while he was 220 lbs., but Vicky was fearless and determined to avenge the earlier pool massacre. She yanked, yanked, made some progress then went for a two hand grip on his left hand. Alexander reversing things, lightning-quick and pulled her down across his body, catching her by surprise.‘Hey!' she protested quite vocally.‘I'd like to kiss you,' Alexander requested passionately.Shock, pleasure, leaning down into Alexander; and nipping his nose.‘Ow,' he complained.‘Took you long enough,' Vicky teased him.Alexander's sudden, expressive and very public sign of affection had been the last thing she'd expected. Yes, they had exchanged sexually charged barbs and erotic innuendo for the past few days; but honestly, Vicky had felt the Samsonov she craved was beyond her. She Knew all the cheerleaders were better looking and even Kaelyne had bigger boobs. Even the 'old ladies' were disappointingly curvaceous, busty and intriguing; at least to the guys.‘Am I going to get that kiss?' Alexander brightened up.‘I don't know,' she vaulted onto his recliner so she ended up straddling his stomach just above the top of his trunks. ‘I kinda like the idea of sexually torturing you,' she added as she sat down; on him.‘Vicky!' Kaelyne reappeared out of the house with Mikhail. ‘Are you two coming?'‘Ocupado!' Vicky triumphantly pronounced. Only then, with her palms placed on Alexander's muscular pectorals, did she lean in for that kiss.‘Yippee!' Kaelyne whooped back. She truly was Vicky's best friend.‘Hey Vicky, don't break him,' Mikhail added in his own teasing.‘I make no promises,' Vicky shot back loudly and proudly. In reality, she had zero sexual experience. She had just had her first kiss; which was warm, wet and wonderful; and she was totally virgin.Vicky had never fit in, battled with ADHD most of her life and had never felt the desire to conform to any of the norms of Kingston, or Davis County. Her hair was always off-color, her only true friend was a shy, introverted, gun-loving lesbian nearly as physically under-developed as she was and, despite the oft-promise of pain, she'd never knuckled under to the bullies.Her musical tastes were unknown bands from other continents and she despised the Sports Religion, so she had expected to serve out her High School years in social exile; but the arrival of the Samsonov's had changed all that. Now she was at a Pool Party with the Cheer Squad; even though as an addendum to Kaelyne; and sexually taunting one hunk of a guy.They kissed twice more before Vicky began serpentining down his body. Lips caressed Alexander's chin, Adam's apple and sternum. Awkwardly, she reached a hand between them and between her spread legs, patting her partner's swimsuit. It took him a few seconds to figure out what Vicky was searching for.‘Umm,' he coughed, somewhat embarrassed. Vicky was turning out to be far more physically aggressive than he'd assumed. ‘It has; ah; expanded down my left leg.'‘Oh!' Vicky popped up, giving Alexander a wicked grin like some demented pixie. ‘Thanks.'She was doubly pleased. He was both not so offended as to be put off plus he was aroused. Check that; triply pleased! Alexander's Baloney Pony Was Huge! (In her inexperienced estimation). She grabbed that manly earthworm and began maneuvering it 'due north'. Soon it was rubbing beneath her covered vulva. Wiggling on it felt wonderful.Alexander's moan was almost as pleasing.‘Oh; ‘ she taunted him, ‘does someone like that?'Alexander gave two, pained nods.What 'Mad Vicky' lacked in real world expertise she compensated for with a rich, diverse and ignored 'For 18+' warning labels, internet history.She pushed herself up slowly, adding an extra twist to her wicked grin when Alexander's eyes flickered to her bikini-top covered assets. Her own quick assessment revealed that while her breasts remained small, her puffy areolas and thick, stubby nipples were flushed with blood and making indentations against her scanty covering. As she kept pushing up, Vicky couldn't help but feel victorious.She had Alexander's cock angling toward his belly button (with the tip no longer contained by his trunks) which had the added benefit of the muscle separating her labia (though equally under wraps). Damn, it felt fine! Vicky was now perpendicular to Alexander's reclining form. Her guy / victim was totally focused on her. The only thing which could make things better was to; He he he he; rub it in.Vicky raised her arms over her head, fingers interlocked then began gyrating and rocking back and forth on his aroused rod.‘Oh Yeah!' she exulted. Things only got better.After a few cycles, Alexander propped himself up with his right elbow and reached out with his left hand, placing it just below her right breast.Vicky figured he was testing her reactions. She was positively luminescent. The oldest Samsonov triplet took that as permission to move three fingers up so he could began playing with her erect nipple through her top. That felt so fine, too. The better, kept getting better.‘Hey!' Misty Dawn Sizemore protested. ‘What's that little freak doing with our guy?'Yep! Vicky's soul soared. She'd stolen a guy the cheerleaders wanted. She was doing her rendition of a barrel-riding/pole-dancing girl routine on top of him for all of those bitches to see. And the better just kept on coming.‘You like?' she resumed her taunting. Alexander nodded again. His words were unexpected.‘I really like your body, Vicky,' he expressed with such genuine openness and innocent trust it caused the tiny temptress to pause.‘You do, don't you?' she barely annunciated.‘Yeah. These nipples look absolutely delicious, you have this pert, tight little ass that wiggles every time you take a bouncing step and your smile is luminous, Vicky. Has no one has ever told you that before?'She digested his compliments and more before deciding he both was not playing her and was really, really sweet.‘No,' she added a little extra wiggle, ‘You would be the first.' Pause. ‘So, you like watching my ass?'‘Behave,' Gayle Samsonov shouted from across the pool. She and Pearl Yates were walking together down to the lawn set aside for the volleyball match.So many replies;‘But I don't want to,' Vicky faux-whined. ‘He's so yummy.'‘I wasn't talking to you, Vicky. I was warning my eldest,' Gayle laughed.‘I don't want to, Ma,' Alexander joined the protest. ‘She's so yummy!'‘Don't make me come over there,' Gayle stopped and shook her finger in their direction. Alexander flopped down and groaned. He even draped his left elbow over his eyes.‘Does this mean we stop?' Vicky get gyrating on his cock.‘I'm afraid so. Going against my Ma is dangerous. Her mean-streak is legendary among those lucky enough to be left alive,' he moaned. ‘Trust me, Vicky' he moved his arm so they were making long, in depth eye contact once more, ‘I'll get you later.'‘What about all the other girls?' she play-pouted. She was really loving this banter.‘Can I leave it at 'Mom's evil plan requires me and my Brothers to romance the Cheer Squad'; please?' Alexander frowned. Vicky wanted to know more. Accepting anything with blind obedience wasn't in her. ‘You are the one who engages me. I confess I didn't see you right away. I had some other crap on my mind, but I see you now and I'm honest about really liking what you're showing.'Pause.‘You are still going to fuck me, right?' she ground her crotch down on his cock.‘Hell yeah,' he coughed. ‘Can't you feel how hard you are making me?'‘Teehee,' Vicky giggled. ‘Just don't go all around school bragging about it,' she reiterated an earlier exchange they'd shared. ‘I'm not that kind of girl.' Total Lie.‘As I recall you are a 'write her name on the bathroom stalls' kind of girl,' he laughed.Vicky snickered.‘Don't make me have to tattoo my name on your dick,' she faux-threatened.‘Ouch,' Alexander winched. ‘Have I told you how much I adore your ass?'‘And my eyes,' she preened. She gave his cock one more vigorous circuit of stimulation then dismounted. ‘Let's go play volleyball before your Mamma has to come back up here and kick my adorable little ass.'‘How about we go down and you sit in my lap as we watch?' he offered instead. ‘I'm kind of still in a great deal of pain. Cracked ribs and all.'‘Fine,' Vicky began pulling the large man-boy up, ‘Kaelyne and I will tag in and out because, while I like that dick, I still want to kick some cheerleader ass.'‘Are you any good at volleyball,' he asked as they hobbled down to the gathering, his left arm draped over her shoulders.‘Never played before in my life. I rocked at tetherball in Kindergarten. How much harder can this be?' Vicky joked.Alexander snorted. Vicky was soaking up the jealous, angry looks being sent her way as she helped him approach. Would she pay for her usurpation later? Most likely, but the promise of retribution from those who thought they were better than her had never stopped her before; and they certainly weren't going to stop her now. This was turning out to be one of the best days of her life.Taliyah and Dominique.Taliyah found her Mother in the Carson's den running her finger over various books on the shelf while drinking a tall glass of 'something'.‘Mamma, how are you going to fix this?' she started off. Dominique looked over her shoulder then slowly turned around, a rather unhappy look on her face.‘Baby, there is no fixing what's wrong with your Daddy and I.'‘Mamma!' Taliyah shouted.

Approved Affection.Based on a post by FinalStand, in 13 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. Brandy was unlocking the door when I put a hand on her elbow and strongly turned her around. Frustration morphed into confusion and blossomed into happiness as I exacted my promised minute make-out session. Even a colossal distraction as big as the Mayor's family implosion wouldn't keep me from my Brandy-time.Big Bob 'caught' us at it. The door had been opened and the AC was exiting the front door.‘Hands above the belt-line, Mr. Samsonov,' he grumbled in a friendly manner.‘Daddy,' Brandy pouted to her Papa. ‘He's behaving himself.'‘Are you behaving yourself around my daughter?' the Sheriff quizzed me.‘Sir, I'd rather go directly to the 500 hours of community service than answer that question; Sir,' I replied. Big Bob snorted. Brandy rolled her eyes, gave me one last peck then glided past her patriarch.‘I haven't see her that happy in a long time,' Big Bob spoke softly. ‘Whatever you are doing, be a gentleman about it.'‘Ugh; I'll do my best Sheriff Carson, but it's difficult,' I groaned. Bob laughed at me and my 'agony'.‘Take care, Vlad,' he gave one final nod before closing the door. I made a quick call to Mom to update her to our change in plans. Mikhail had beaten me to the punch. She understood I had to hand-off Brandy first, no harm / no foul. She asked me to hang out at Dominque's place for a while because she knew Mr. Malik was a devious, lying rat-bastard and believed he would sweet talk his daughter into letting him back into his wife's proximity.I mulled over handing her the Malik family secret. I trusted Mom. More to the point, I trusted her to respect my decision to want that tidbit handled with care. No cops harassed me on the return trip. I had taken a circuitous route to be on the safe side. The Police Chief might be the Mayor's ally, or he might be a BBC devotee and have a Brutha solidarity moment with Chinedu too.According to their methodology, once he gave her that cock, she'd forgive every other indiscretion. True or not, I was going to try and cock-block that maneuver. I didn't have a plan when I arrived. Something immediately presented itself to me in the form of a Candy Apple Red 2014 Jaguar F Type V8 S convertible.Daddy, or Sugar-Daddy was way generous to the tune of one hundred grand; that was for damn sure. The billow red mane topping that curvaceous frame was a clear indicator the shit was going to hit the fan at the Malik household. Chine was her BBC addiction, but the Mayor was her boss and political mentor.The look she sent me was fearful over her general situation and one of only passing interest, a look I was becoming familiar with. She was yet another hot, sexy piece of filet mignon that didn't fuck White guys. Groan.‘Who are you?' she was polite enough, possibly seeking to delay the upcoming confrontation.‘I'm Vladimir Samsonov, junior Prince of Evil and I'm here to talk with your boss; she's expecting me,' dispelled her protest that the Mayor was too busy for me.‘Riley Pasternak,' she smiled. ‘I don't recognize the accent,' she added as I passed her. She let me ring the doorbell too.Statuesque and voluptuous; that is what I would call Riley. Burnished coppery hair, thick and glossy flowed in waves down to the middle of her back. Well defined brows of a slightly lighter but no less fiery color framed her oval face and enhanced her verdant eyes, pale freckled skin and flushed cheeks.The makeup she chose didn't really enhance her features which said she didn't wear it that often and the scar above her brow confirmed that she was a tomboy.She dressed to be seen, but also to move in whatever capacity needed. The push up black halter was a strong contrast to her pale skin and plumped up her already impressive cleavage.Below it she wore almost too tight hip huggers that had her lush belly just barely spilling over the waistband. Right above said waistband on the back of her hip was a tattoo that red ‘Red Wolf Bitch' for the Arkansas State Mascot. A second one was teasingly just out of sight on the front of the other hip.Drawing away just a bit from the sexy outfit were all the hippie doodles on her pants. It looked as if she'd let a five year old color on them before she put them on, the neon colors seeming to jump off the denim. She completed the ensemble with cork wedges and a tiny red purse hanging by an equally tiny red string from her shoulder.‘I'm from Alaska,' I let her know. The door flew open in seconds, revealing a tumultuous Dominque who slipped on a semi-civil mask when she saw me.‘Vlad, I thought you were going to stop by your place before coming back for your brother,' she addressed me. ‘Ms. Pasternak, get in here,' she was more abrupt with her 'underling'.I stepped aside to let Riley pass. I hadn't been invited in. Dominque took my actions into account.‘Come in Vlad. Go find your brother. I'll talk to you later,' she said.‘Well,' I began once I stepped in, ‘I think I'd be of more use sticking with you.'Dominque slammed the door behind me.‘I won't need you with me,' she corrected me.‘I'm not staying to help you,' I corrected her. ‘I'm staying to make sure Ms. Pasternak doesn't come to some misfortune.' The Mayor didn't seem pleased.‘What does he mean?' Riley looked from her Boss to me.‘Go, Vlad,' she commanded. I was a guest in her home. Barring extenuating circumstances, I was taught to behave.‘Well, nice to see you again, Ms. Pasternak,' I regarded my fellow guest. Off I went, listening for sounds of my brother and Taliyah. I was almost out of sight;‘Where have we met before?' Riley worried.‘Go, Vlad,' my hostess repeated. I kept going.‘The Cineplex two weeks ago,' I said over my shoulder. ‘The Purge: Anarchy.'‘Oh God,' she moaned. ‘V; Vlad is it; please don't leave.'I reversed course. Dominique could tell that ordering me about at this point was useless. The same instinct which had placed me between Chine and her was placing me between her and Riley.‘You fucked him,' Madame Mayor fumed. ‘Worse, you let him fuck you in a public place you; simple-minded bimbo.'‘Listen Mrs. Malik; it; I; he was insistent,' Riley back-pedaled into a wall.‘And you happened to forget he was my husband?' Dominque seethed. I had to admit she looked rather volcanic, her ass, hips and boobs trembling with repressed energy as she got ready to erupt. I maneuvered so I flanked them both, ready to interpose myself if necessary.‘How many times, Riley?' I posed the question. ‘How many times did the two of you hook up?'‘Four, five,' she reconsidered her response. Dominique looked ready to explode. She mastered herself with a great effort of will.‘What is going to happen when your Grandfather, that racist Jew Bastard, finds out you are back to banging big black bucks, Again?' she threatened. Riley blanched. ‘He threatened to disown you last time. This time, he'll do it, Princess. Then you will be nothing more than another in a long line of chunky Cocoa Puff's. No car, no apartment and damn, I'll make sure you don't have a job anymore.'‘Reggie won't; ‘ she protested desperately.‘Whore, you are only fun to be around because your fat ass is forbidden fruit. Senator Murdoch can get a dozen fresher Betties to haul his coal.' I'd go to Mom to explain the jargon flying around. ‘I know for a fact he likes them young.''Betty's' were White chicks. 'Hauling coal' meant taking black dick. Why couldn't people just say that instead of confusing everything with racial slurs? Riley's reaction showed she was playing into that fear; no fortune and no more choice selections of BBC's.‘Umm; ‘ Riley flickered her eyes my way.‘Chinedu already spilled all this secrets,' Dominique lied. She'd spilled them in her rage, but these two women lying and cheating wasn't my primary concern; taking advantage of their wickedness was. ‘He has his own reasons for keeping quiet.' Riley glanced speculatively from me to Dominique.‘Ha,' Madame Mayor snorted in derision. ‘I don't do White boys.' Oh, that deserved some hard fucking; screw the bitch. I was considering what derogatory idiocy was going to vomit forth from my mouth when Riley's phone rang. Absently she pulled it out of her purse. She paled when she saw the caller ID. Dom snatched it away then trembled.I took it out of her hands before she could make Riley eat the device.‘Both of you keep quiet,' I demanded. I answered the phone.‘Baby-cakes, let's hook up tonight,' Mr. Malik oozed his masculine charisma. ‘I feel like stepping out and I want to see you on your knees worshipping my award-winning Arkansas Black Snake, you cock-hungry slut.'He was loud enough so that both women could hear. I pointed a warning finger in Riley's face.‘Sorry, Mr. Baker, but Riley can't come to the phone right now. She's choking down my Slavic salami, but; after I finish with her and your wife, I'll send the tramp back your way; if she can still walk.'‘Wa, huh, wha, Who? Samsonov?, what did you just say?' he blathered.‘I'm kind of busy right now, Sir,' I taunted him. ‘Hold on.' I spanked Riley's flank. She gasped. ‘That was the sound of me smacking your wife's luscious, sweet and highly neglected ass. I gotta go. Your women look famished for some fucking respect and attention. I'm sure you can find a glory hole to entertain yourself at. I'll talk to you in the morning. Bye,' I signed off before he could reply.I cut off Riley's phone then pocketed it. They were both staring at me in utter shock. Dominique's full, plump lips first closed then she opened them to start laughing.‘Boy, Vlad, that was hilarious,' she chortled.‘That was a freebie, Dominique,' I grinned.‘There are two kinds of cheaters; the ones who convince themselves it will never happen to them, and the ones who believe everyone cheats. That allows them to both allow themselves to violate the essence of their relationships,' I glibly stated, ‘It also makes them want to utterly control their partners so they don't end up becoming cuckolds themselves.'‘Mr. Samsonov; ‘ Dominique studied me, ‘you continue to show me you are much more dangerous than you appear.' Taking into account my size, excellent physical shape, exhibited self-control and clear elucidation, I could only imagine I was 'dangerous' for a White guy; what a tight-ass shrew.‘Flattery will get you nowhere, Mrs. Malik,' I politely responded. ‘I don't do older Black chicks; or date used-up girls who only fuck Black guys. One of the three of us has to have some standards.' They blinked; it was the whole 'da White boy thinks he can talk back to us?' bullshit.‘I'll go looking for Mikhail now. You two have fun sharing in your communal 'I've been dicked-over, bent over and forced to suck another woman's vaginal fluids off his cock' Chine-experiences. I pray neither one of you've done Ass-to-Mouth with him; that would turn my stomach. Bye,' I waved as I departed. Dominique grabbed my arm, her fingernails digging in.‘What makes you think you can insult me that way, in my own house?' she lambasted me.‘It is the truth and we both know it,' I shrugged. ‘Somebody needs to start telling the truth around here, don't you think?'‘Get your brother and get out,' she snapped.‘Done deal,' I answered. ‘Riley; ‘ The doorbell rang. From the look on everyone's faces, none of us were expecting a caller.‘Don't you move,' Dom glared at me, ‘and don't you do a damn thing,' she balefully instructed Riley. Off she stormed.‘Gayle, what are you doing here?' Dom greeted my Mom.‘I brought dinner for my boys, Dominique,' she responded snidely. ‘I expect them to be gentlemen and you to not give a damn about anyone but yourself.'‘You've got some nerve showing up on my doorstep,' Dom grumbled.‘Not really,' Mom shouldered her way inside. ‘I've gotten on with my life. I see you've done the same.'‘Bitch,' Dom sizzled yet didn't stop her.‘Kitchen?' my maternal unit asked me. She was holding a wicker picnic basket and a large paper bag in one hand and a covered pot with a pail in the other. I pointed the way. She winked.Belatedly, Dominique slammed the door and stalked after Mom.‘What would ever possess you that I'd welcome you into my house,' she spat. ‘After what you did to Leon; ‘‘Had; do you really want to rehash that right now considering neither one of us has forgotten, or forgiven a damn thing?' Mom countered.‘Leon is still sucking his puree through a straw and pissing in a colostomy bag,' Dominique simmered.‘Mom?' I questioned.‘Oh, you haven't told your boys about what you and Theo did?' Dominque taunted her. Mom wasn't perturbed in the least.‘Vlad, do you trust me?' my Mother asked me.‘Sure. You can be unfathomable and crazy, but I don't think you've ever hurtfully deceive me.'‘Boy, you had better check that naiveté,' Mayor Malik warned me.‘Vlad, the last time Theo and I spent any time under the same roof was here, in Fonteneau,' she used Kingston's old name. ‘Leon Fox, Dominique's brother, and six other Black bulls decided to brutalize me, I was barely alive when I crawled my way back to the road where Mr. Cobb found me,' she relayed in a pleasant tone.‘So you say,' Dom interrupted. ‘It was your word against them and those seven had iron-clad alibis. To you, all Black men looked alike.'‘Think what you want. I identified all seven of them. You dad and the police chief wouldn't prosecute even though I know they were heard around town bragging about it; how they'd 'taught me a lesson'.'‘Mom, what the hell is going on?' I worried.‘Your Great-Aunt wouldn't accept that the police's investigation acquitted my brother and his friends; Because it was Black officers accepting the words of seven Black men, one of them the newly-minted Mayor's son, over a scared, battered child's,' Mom gave a feral grin.‘Yeah, you racist bitch,' Dominique seethed.‘Theo believed me. Aunt Matilda and Theo both believed me and not your chick-shit police force cover-up,' Mom kept smiling though there was not mirth behind it. ‘Theo made damn sure the guilty paid.'‘He damn near beat four grown men to death,' Dom grumbled. ‘One of them was my brother.'‘Vlad, Theo took a fileting knife and a crowbar with him when he rode his bicycle out and hunted those scumbags down,' Mom explained while staring at my host. ‘He found four of them together. He put all four in the hospital.'‘He ended up in the hospital as well,' Mom added, ‘if that makes you feel better.'‘Is that why Uncle Theo ended up in military school?' I inquired.‘He got off lucky,' Dom bristled. ‘Leon; and Roscoe Sumner never left the damn hospital, Bitch.' She turned on me. ‘Rufus never did see out of his left eye again and Martin Cutler still has to walk with leg braces and a cane.'Uncle Theo and Mom; that explained a great deal about her and her twin's relationship. I knew Mom had once broken into his military school/prison to see him. I also knew now that Mom hadn't lied to me; this vendetta was with this entire sick town, not blanket racism on her part.Black individuals in this town had raped her and other Blacks had covered it up. Theo had avenged her and paid for that with five years of his freedom. Had the Kingston's Black police force simply pursued a proper course of justice, then those seven men would have gotten what the law allowed; and be out of jail by now.Maybe that would have helped Gayle Fonteneau's emotional wounds heal. That didn't happen though. That injustice explained why Mom had initially run away from Dad. She'd suffered at the hands of law enforcement and she carried that distrust and disgust with her into her first meeting with Dad.That had to be some awkward emotional gymnastics on her part.‘Oh, come on now,' Mom chortled. ‘Leon is in a nice assisted-care living facility and Roscoe is in a coma just down the hall from him.'‘What happened to Le; your brother, Mrs. Malik?' I asked.‘According to the reconstructive specialist in Austin he was hit 27 times with a crowbar, that's what happened,' she spat at my Mother. ‘Even now his face doesn't look right and he's one step above a vegetable.'‘You took Aunt Matilda's hush money,' Mom gloated. ‘You all did.'‘That doesn't mean your brother wasn't a psycho, racist bastard,' Dom shot back.‘Bullshit, Dominique. Your Daddy made the town accept Aunt Mattie's deal because she was bringing in the Arkansas State Police (ASP) to investigate Theo's defense claims and that would have fried the whole lot of you,' Mom ignored Dom's snit. Seeing my disbelief, she told me, ‘Back in 1986, the ASP had its fair share of White racists.'‘Had those seven not been guilty as sin; ‘ she glared at the Mayor, ‘maybe Theo wouldn't have gone Rambo on this burgh.'‘Enough!' I intervened. ‘This is not helping us with the problem at hand. Right now, all Mikhail and I are worried about is whether Mr. Malik is going to come home tonight pissed off, drunk off his ass, or both.'‘Why should you care?' Madame Mayor turned my way. Mom started laughing which only made the woman angrier.‘Because unlike you, me and most of this town, my boys are decent individuals who actually give a crap about strangers, regardless of their melatonin levels,' she snorted. She made eye contact with Mrs. Malik.‘Don't blame me,' Mom chuckled. ‘I would be much happier of your shiftless shit of a husband came back and beat the fuck out of you and your daughter. To me, that would be poetic justice for what your father let him get away with.'‘No happening, Mom,' I declared. ‘Mikhail and I are eighteen now so you can't make us go home. If he's really a threat; ‘‘And you can't trust the police,' Mom sneered at Dom. ‘Your police force, Dominique.'‘You are one twisted cock-whore,' Dom riposted.‘Seven young men assaulted me,' Mom snarled. ‘Three weren't around when Theo caught up with the other four. ‘Charles Baker was one of them. The other was Demetrius Quinterre. These days he is the Chief of Police.'‘Charles Baker is Chinedu Malik now?' I requested.‘Yeah,' Mom beamed hostility Mamma Malik's way. ‘The fall after 'it' happened, Charles went to Arkansas State on a football scholarship and changed his name to something more 'African'. If he thinks it made it so that Theo couldn't find him, he's sorely mistaken.'‘Where is your crazy brother anyway?'‘Which one?' Mom snorted. ‘I've got a few.'‘Theo, you crazy cunt.'‘He joined the US Army straight out of the academy. He ended up in Ranger School then the Green Beret,' Mom updated her. ‘Now he's a contract killer for God-knows who. You, the FBI and the US military all are curious about his whereabouts.'‘That's; ‘ Dominique looked at me. What can I say? I have an honest face. ‘Do you believe that?' she asked me.‘Madame Mayor, I've talked to the men from Fort Bragg who have come calling. How to put this; Uncle Theo is exceedingly eccentric; beyond what Mom is.'In a normal situation, this would be when the concerned wife asked if her husband was in danger from my lunatic uncle. Not Mrs. Malik. Hell, a martyred husband killed by a violent racist would be a big boost to her career. It would also remove any chance of her hubby blowing up the situation with Riley, thus Riley's Sugar-Daddy. I could almost see the cold, calculating wheels turning behind her eyes.‘That's hardly encouraging. Fine; Gayle, you can get out. Vlad, I'm going to make some phone calls. Why don't you see what your brother has gotten up to,' the Mayor commanded. Mom shot me a wink when Mrs. Malik pulled out her phone.‘Bring home the pot and basket when you leave,' she advised me. She took my arm and pulled me to the door.‘You have your toiletries and fresh clothes in the bag (the big, brown paper one she'd arrived with). Then, as she hugged me, she shoved something into my front, left pocket. That weekend with the Vegas hookers paid off, I recalled the crinkly sound condom wrappers make. ‘For Mikhail,' she whispered. He was being given her 'okay' to any sexual missteps that might happen if we weren't sent straight home.I imagined most teenage boys would be thrilled to have their mothers handing them some condoms and silently wishing them luck. Not me. This was some fucked-up shit Mikhail, Alexander and I had stepped into. Mom turned without further advice and went to Dad's black '2012 F-150' pick-up truck. I closed the door, then went looking for the ladies.Dominique had taken Riley into the living room. The younger woman was sitting contritely on the sofa while the Mayor quietly brow-beat whomever was on the other end of that phone conversation. I spared them a look, knew I wasn't needed, or wanted, so I went for the stairs.‘Taliyah, Mikhail, Dinner's here,' I called up. I remained at the bottom of the stairs until Mikhail showed himself.‘Was that Mom?' he calmly inquired.‘Yeah. She's gone now,' I gave a wry grin. ‘It is safe you two to come down.' A few seconds later, Taliyah appeared.‘What is it?' she was referring to dinner.‘Whatever Kamika cooked for us,' I replied. She shrugged, clearly upset with the past few minutes of her life. She still came down. She'd missed lunch unless you counted cum swallowed, then had cheerleader workouts, horse-riding and a sex-session with my brother. Mikhail was perpetually hungry as was the norm for growing boys our age and metabolisms.The remarkable thing was her reaction to Mikhail and his blasé attitude. He wasn't walking on eggshells, as Alexander would have, or being sympathetic, like me. Mikhail was being Mikhail; Taliyah's problems weren't his concern so he wasn't intruding. If she wanted some emotional input from him, she'd have to do the 'reaching out'.We doled out portions. Taliyah started with three bowls (for the host of baby-back pork ribs) and plates for the potatoes, carrots and string beans. I motioned for two more. She mentally debated my request before complying. Kamika must have packed a family of eight. There was plenty to spare.After the meal was apportioned, I took two plates and a glass of Pomegranate Juice (Taliyah poured for her Mom) and a glass of lemonade for Riley. I juggled the lot as I traipsed into the living room. The conversation stopped when I appeared. I didn't engage either with eye contact, though I could tell Dominique resented me serving dinner to her guest. I retreated with the same grace I'd exhibited entering.The two high-schoolers had attacked the ribs with gusto.‘Hmm; these are some damn fine ribs,' Taliyah waved a freshly-cleaned bone my way. ‘No wonder the men in your family are so damn huge.' Right as the words tumbled out of her mouth, she shot Mikhail a dirty look, daring him to make a snide aside about the size of his cock. Mikhail didn't take the bait.‘Give Kamika a call around noon-time. She'll add a place-setting for you at the dinner table,' he replied after vigorously sucking the meat off his fourth victim. That was the opposite of what she expected a man, a Black man, to say. She'd never had a possibly sexually suggestive chat with a White guy.‘The food's not so good I'd want to spend time with you,' she poked him.‘I'm not hot to re-experience your she-devil bitchiness either, Taliyah,' he teased her. ‘I've got to accept that Brandy's going to keep putting a sappy smile on Vlad's face and that suggests they'll crawl out of bed long enough to get some food.'‘We are never going to have sex again,' she wacked his hand with a fresh rib, leaving a saucy mark.Mikhail licked the sweet substance off while keeping eye contact with the girl. She refused to back down from his provocation. My brother responded by tenderly poking her lips with a fresh rib. She kept her mouth closed yet couldn't keep the smile from her face. She countered by presented piece of meat in front of him. Mikhail caught the offering in his teeth and shook it hungrily.Now I felt like the one who should tell them to get a room. The two began making messes of each other's faces with sloppy feedings of one another before including me in the game. It was so engrossing, we three missed Mrs. Malik coming into the kitchen and catching us at play.‘Taliyah, what, are, you, doing?' her mother clipped off each world.‘I'm keeping the White boys quiet,' the daughter thought quickly on her feet.‘Oh, that's what you call it,' Dominique's eyebrow arched. ‘It looks more like your flirting with them both.'‘What!' Taliyah squalled. ‘I hate Mikhail; Vlad's okay. He treats Brandy like she matters, not the way Darius does. He treats her like a cum dumpster.'‘I thought you wanted to be with Darius?' Dom studied her daughter intently.‘Well; I've changed my mind. His whole attitude; the 'I'm a football stud' is getting too pricey for my tastes,' she clarified. ‘Rashaan has his head so far up Darius' ass that's stopped being funny too.'‘Taliyah, if you stop dating Rashaan, you won't be popular,' mom protested.‘Listen to your mother,' Mikhail agreed. ‘Look how well hooking up with a football star worked out for her.' Waves of furious emotions radiated from mom. Taliyah's reaction was far more direct.‘You bastard!' Taliyah swore before she punched him in the upper arm. She was starting to cry.Chine may have been a raging prick to Samsonov eyes, but he was Taliyah's Daddy.‘Fuck,' he exaggerated. ‘What makes you think; ow,' he recoiled as she began to rain blows down on his upper arm and chest. Tears started to stream down her face as she pummeled my brother who took his beating like a champ.‘You are such a; a; ‘ she stammered.‘Neanderthal?' he volunteered. Two more blows were her response then her attacks lost strength and direction. Mikhail wrapped her up in his arms as she sobbed into the crux of his arm and chest.‘Feel free to hate me as much as you need to,' he held her tight. ‘I'm not that fond of you either.' He kept her close for another minute.‘I'll take her upstairs,' Mikhail told Dominique. He kept an arm around her shoulders to aid her direction and off they went. The Mayor looked my way.‘I don't know what's up with that,' I shrugged. ‘Mikhail really is a jerk most of the time. Heck, he's the biggest bastard of the three of us; the most like Mom's dark side, so I'm not sure what he's doing being nice to your daughter.'‘If he does something to her,' she threatened me. Her eyes went past me to Riley who had come to the open doorway. ‘Don't you start thinking you can be leaving,' she aimed her prodigies' way. ‘I'm not done with you.'‘Besides, he's still out there,' I meant Mr. Malik. ‘He's likely to do something irrational that both of you will regret.'‘Why should you care? You are a Fonteneau,' the Mayor grumbled in an accusatory voice.‘I'm not sure,' I shrugged. ‘I trust my Mom a lot more than I believe your version of events. From what I know of Uncle Theo, if he wasn't sure justice had been done, he'd have come back here already.'‘The fact you are choosing to revisit this tragedy now makes me wonder when I'll see him again,' I tacked on.‘Ah, could I have some more of those ribs?' Riley extended her plate. She needed to finish her veggies.‘All that pork is going straight to those fat hips and big ass, Girl,' the Mayor cruelly teased her.Riley was embarrassed. I stood up from the kitchen table, took Riley's plate, and filled it with the portions of meat Taliyah and Mikhail had left behind. That seemed to mollify her to the point she felt good enough to walk, with her plate, back to the living room.‘You shouldn't be nice to her,' the Mayor cautioned me. ‘She's just another whore for Black Cock. Another White girl freak beneath the sheets.'That the Mayor was likely one as well wasn't something I felt I should bring up at the moment. Instead of arguing, I began to clean up the kitchen, putting the leftovers in Tupperware containers, washing the plates and then the pot and food containers. All the while, Dominique watched me work.‘I thought you had domestic help,' she said condescending tone.‘A) any kind of help is something new to us boys and Dad. B) Mom insists we all pitch in and help out. That means washing cookware and plates after meals, haul fertilizer and taking away yard debris and cleaning our rooms. We have chores.'‘That defeats the purpose of having servants,' she insisted.‘That house is huge, the 'help' could use the help, chores remind us we all need to work together and it teaches us not to take people for granted,' I repeated my Mom's words from our first day in the house.‘Your clan used to be such snobs, looking down on all us Black folks.'‘However the Fonteneau acted was before our time, Madam Mayor; ‘‘Call me Dominique, or Mrs. Malik in my home, Vladimir. You are Vladimir, right?' she said.‘Yes Dominique, I'm Vlad, the middle one. Alexander is oldest, so he's the most mature, I'm the middle triplet, so I'm the best mix of Mom and Dad, and Mikhail is the youngest so he's always out to prove himself.'‘Fascinating,' she responded drolly. ‘Stay out of the way while I deal with Riley. I'll get her squared away then deal with you and your brother.' With that, she walked off to give Riley another huge piece of her mind, rage and frustration. As I was putting up the pot to dry, the doorbell rang. I heard Mamma Malik's heels click on the marble floors as she stormed over to the door.‘Demetrius, what are you doing here?' I heard he say from the door.‘I heard you were having some problem with those Samsonov boys,' he announced. ‘I'm here to make sure everything is okay.'‘You mean my worthless, cheating husband sent you over to make them leave,' she groused.‘He might have indicated they were causing you problems,' the Police Chief allowed. ‘Let me pour those Cornfeds into their car and send them home.'‘No,' Dominique's voice cracked the whip of authority. ‘He is out whoring and drinking and that means he ain't coming home tonight; end of story.'‘I'll leave Oliver with a patrol car watching your place if that is the case,' he tried to mollify her.‘On really,' she mocked him. ‘You, Chinedu and Oliver are all drinking buddies. You and your cronies aren't going to keep my husband's drunk ass from darkening my doorway. You let Chine know he's not welcome here tonight.'‘Dom, you are being unreasonable,' the cop leader cooed. I didn't have to imagine him touching her. The Kingston cops were far too touchy-feely with women.‘Don't you touch me, you poltroon,' she blasted him. I wondered if he even knew what a poltroon was. He knew it was an insult though.‘Listen up, Dominique,' his voice grew low and threatening. That was my cue.‘Madam Mayor, is everything okay?' I stepped into the hallway. Demetrius' eyes latched onto me before turning his sneer the Mayor's way.‘Why, don't he look cozy,' he accused Dominique.‘Buddy,' I wasn't going to call him an 'officer', or 'Chief', ‘Mom just enlightened me to what you and Chine did to her all those years ago. Statute of Limitations may have passed, but don't you think the Samsonov's consider justice to be done.'‘I also know that any crime involving you and a Deputy's son automatically brings in the Arkansas State Police. Cross that portal and you cease being a concerned police officer and become a home invader,' I channeled my father and all his kin going back a dozen generations.‘How about I arrest you for trespassing?' he want for his 'bracelets' while his right hand rested on the ass of his piece.‘My house, Demetrius and I've invited him and his brother in. Believe me, Dem, if you don't hot-foot it off my property then my next call Will be to the State Police reporting You for criminal trespass,' she growled at the cop.‘So, you've become an Oreo?' he mocked her. ‘I can't wait to hear what the town council has to say about that.'‘Consider they are the same crowd who invited Dr. Pierre O'Rourke Jean-Georges to be our Principle for the next ten months; ‘ I began my counter-mock.‘Five years,' the Mayor glowered at the Chief. ‘The school board; which you are on, Demetrius; gave that freakazoid a five year contract.'

Belatedly venturing into a new decade for our summer flashback series, the SportsAlcohol.com crew looks back at the top 10 highest-grossing movies released in the summer of 1984! Recorded way back in the vintage summer of 2024, lost to time, and then recovered just in time for the tail-end of the year, this episode goes deep on mid-80s blockbusters featuring gremlins, ghosts, sports, spaceships, cops, breakdancers, and nerds (of course, there are always nerds on SportsAlcohol.com podcasts). So grab your proton packs, hold off on your electric boogaloos, and get ready to remember the summer movies of 1984!

AKA Missed Classics #13   Belatedly following up on our 2020 review of During Barty's Party, here we look at another 1970s TV play by director Don Taylor, 1972's socially-conscious Christmas ghost story, The Exorcism.  Ian, Kirsty, Stella and Dan talk the talk.   Works Cited The Exorcism is part of the series Dead of Night (BBC Television, UK 1972, producer: Innes Lloyd) is available on BFI DVD The Stone Tape (same credits) has just been re-released on Blu-Ray and DVD by 101 Films Beasts (ATV Television, UK 1976, producer: Nicholas Palmer) features the episode During Barty's Party and was released on DVD by the now-defunct Network, though you might still be able to find a copy - here's our 2020 episode about it Box of Delights: The Exorcism (2018 podcast in which John Dryden Taylor is interviewed about The Exorcism) can be found here Ghost Stories for Christmas: Woman of Stone (BBC Television, UK 2024, director: Mark Gatiss) is currently streaming on BBC iPlayer   Artwork by Kirsty Worrow (Instagram: OneCrowLeft).  Music by Greg Hulme.   To hear our next episode early please go to our Patreon page and become a supporter Socials: BlueSky Mastodon Twitter Instagram (also on Threads) Facebook All clips are used in the spirit of Fair Dealing (Commonwealth law) and Fair Use (US law) for the purposes of criticism and education.  No copyright infringement intended. Visit our website, andnowpodcast.com  

It's Friday, May 24th, A.D. 2024. This is The Worldview in 5 Minutes heard at www.TheWorldview.com. I'm Adam McManus. (Adam@TheWorldview.com) By Adam McManus 135 women and 206 children freed in Nigeria from Boko Haram Breaking news from northeastern Nigeria. Authorities just freed 135 women and 206 children from a Boko Haram Muslim terrorist stronghold, reports The Associated Press.   We praise the Lord for this incredible news! Yet we know an uncertain future awaits these precious sisters in Christ.   Many of the women—who were widowed, kidnapped and held hostage for years by the Muslims—now have no homes or livelihoods to return to. And some have several young mouths to feed after being subjected to sexual assaults and forced marriages in the Boko Haram compound.  That's where Global Christian Relief and their partners come in. They're on the ground in multiple Nigerian refugee camps, meeting the needs of courageous women and innocent children who have been impacted by Boko Haram.  You could help someone like Deborah. She escaped Boko Haram after nearly two years in captivity, arriving sick and exhausted at a refugee camp. Deborah says, "Global Christian Relief's partners assisted me and provided for all my needs. Everything -- food, water, my children's health care, shelter, a bed to lie on. May God repay you for your generosity!” Your $36 gift through Global Christian Relief can supply displaced children and orphans with comforting toys. You can donate through a special link in our transcript today at www.TheWorldview.com. Nikki Haley belatedly endorses Trump After former South Carolina Governor Nikki Haley withheld her endorsement for a few months since suspending her campaign for the Republican presidential nomination, she revealed she would vote for Trump during an event on Wednesday at the Hudson Institute, reports Real Clear Politics. Listen. MODERATOR: “Who do you think would do a better job in the White House? Joe Biden or Donald Trump?” HALEY: “As a voter, I put my priorities on a president who is going to have the backs of our allies and hold our enemies to account, who would secure the border -- no more excuses. A president who would support capitalism and freedom, a president who understands we need less debt, not more debt. “Trump has not been perfect on these policies.  I have made that clear many, many times. But Biden has been a catastrophe. So, I will be voting for Trump. “Having said that, I stand by what I said in my suspension speech. Trump would be smart to reach out to the millions of people who voted for me, and continue to support me, and not assume that they're just going to be with him. And I genuinely hope he does that.” Supreme Court upholds new South Carolina redistricting Yesterday, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in favor of South Carolina's redrawn congressional map, reversing a lower court decision, reports The Epoch Times. While the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People challenged the map, arguing that legislators were motivated by race when drawing district lines, Justice Samuel Alito, speaking for the majority, wrote, “[The challengers] provided no direct evidence of a racial gerrymander, and their circumstantial evidence is very weak.” Aborting babies up to birth on South Dakota ballot Pro-lifers in South Dakota have work to do now that a pro-abortion group has placed a proposal on the state's November 5 ballot that seeks to ensure women can kill their unborn children up to birth, reports LifeSiteNews.com. South Dakota's Republican Secretary of State Monae Johnson has announced that her office has validated just over 46,000 of the 55,000 signatures supportive of a constitutional amendment, submitted by a pro-abortion group, that would codify a so-called “right” to abortion. The group surpassed the necessary 35,000 signatures.  Proverbs 1:16 says, "For their feet run to evil, and make haste to shed blood." Pro-life protestor and mother of 15 sentenced to 2 years in prison Pro-life advocate and mother of 15 Heather Idoni was sentenced by Judge Colleen Kotelly to 2 years in prison for blocking access to a late-term abortion mill in the nation's capital, reports LifeSiteNews.com. Idoni, who recently suffered a stroke while incarcerated, was also denied home confinement despite ongoing health issues. Last fall, Idoni, age 59, was placed in prolonged solitary confinement for 22 days and deprived of sleep with the lights in her cell kept on continually. While awaiting sentencing, she suffered a stroke three weeks ago and had to be rushed to a hospital. Please keep Heather Idoni in your prayers. Christian couple refused to misgender foster kids or take to “gay” pride events And finally, a Christian couple is suing the state of Washington for denying their foster care license due to requirements that conflict with their religious beliefs, reports International Christian Concern. Shane and Jennifer Degross are a devoted Christian couple who served as foster parents for Washington's Department of Children, Youth, and Families from 2013 to 2022. During their service, the Degrosses provided care for four children, meeting a critical need amid Washington's shortage of placement families. In 2022, while reapplying for their foster care license, the Degrosses learned of new regulations requiring foster parents to use a foster child's biologically inaccurate pronouns based on their gender confusion. The new regulations also required foster families to take children to “cultural events” such as homosexual pride parades and perverted drag queen shows. In October 2022, the Washington state foster group did not renew the Degrosses' foster care license for reasons because of the couple's Christian beliefs, which teach that each person is created in the image of God, either male or female, and that sex cannot be changed. In Mark 10:6, Jesus Himself said, “But at the beginning of creation God ‘made them male and female.” Close And that's The Worldview on this Friday, May 24th in the year of our Lord 2024. Subscribe by iTunes or email to our unique Christian newscast at www.TheWorldview.com. Or get the Generations app through Google Play or The App Store. I'm Adam McManus (Adam@TheWorldview.com). Seize the day for Jesus Christ.

A new MP3 sermon from The World View in 5 Minutes is now available on SermonAudio with the following details: Title: Nikki Haley belatedly endorses Trump Subtitle: The World View in Five Minutes Speaker: Adam McManus Broadcaster: The World View in 5 Minutes Event: Current Events Date: 5/24/2024 Length: 7 min.

For the first time, we're coming to you from Miami Gardens, Florida! Before recapping Indian Wells, we share our first impressions of the Miami Open site and some of the tennis we got to see early on: Halep's first match back from her suspension, Azarenka-Stearns (with an appearance by early Berry Gordy's son RedFoo), Ostapenko lighting up Court 1, and more. Alcaraz defends his Indian Wells title -- snapping a title-less stretch going back to Wimbledon -- and Iga regains her title while losing a mere handful of games. Later on, we talk about the competing proposals that aim to overhaul mostly everything about tennis (Premier vs. PIF). 0:35 Miami Open: Penko-Siegemund, Vika-Peyton (and why RedFoo is here) 9:35 Simona's return and Woz's take heard round the world: “It wasn't a clearance” 18:48 Minding Our Own Business  22:20 Belatedly wrapping Indian Wells 27:07  Non-problematic beef 29:41 Unnecessary beef 32:28 Miss Beswick strikes again 35:28:Tennis headed for fundamental change: Premier Tour vs. Saudi PIF bid  

This is a free preview of a paid episode. To hear more, visit www.serioustrouble.showDonald Trump's criminal trial in Manhattan was slated to start next week, but it will be delayed due to the late production of a large volume of documents from the US Attorney's office. And Trump has said he can't find a bond for the New York Attorney General's civil judgment against him, so you can expect to see Attorney General Letitia James starting to collect on that judgment by other means quite soon. In Georgia, Judge Scott McAfee has decided not to disqualify Fani Willis or her office from the RICO prosecution of Trump and his associates. But McAfee's decision is otherwise scathing. Nathan Wade wins our Senate Twink Memorial Award for Belatedly Good Judgment for changing his mind about an interview on “Meet the Press." Good call, Nathan! In Florida, Judge Aileen Cannon has issued some more bizarre orders in the documents case. What she's doing is not exactly what you would do if you were trying to tank the case, but “incompetent” and “malevolent” are not mutually exclusive theories of what Judge Cannon is up to. And finally, we answer an excellent listener question sent in by Ben Dreyfuss about what lawyers in movies sometimes do when their clients to lie to them.Free subscribers get the conversations about New York and a bit of the goings on in Georgia. Paid subscribers get the whole shebang, including a conversation about why some of the charges in the Georgia case have been dismissed, and Ken's explanation of why he's less like those movie lawyers and more like Alan Dershowitz. Visit serioustrouble.show to upgrade and you'll hear the whole thing.

TURKANA FARMS, LLC Green E-Market Bulletin September 17, 2023 Leader of the Flock: Back from the Far Pasture Photo by Mark Scherzer A Partial ReflectionHi All, Mark here.Saturday morning didn't start so well. The expensive self-propelled lawnmower I bought last May, just back from repairs two weeks ago because some parts in the engine were missing, making it idle too fast, had to go back again. Now the electric starter, one of its most attractive features, was completely dead.As I loaded the mower into the car, I heard several turkeys uttering distress calls up near the barn. Such calls often happen when a turkey flies over the eight-foot fence and can't figure out the way back to its mates because it is right up against that fence. But they generally lack urgency; the tone conveys frustration. The calls this morning were louder, more constant and had a desperate quality, demanding immediate attention.Approaching the barn, I saw just four turkeys. They were fine. So why the distress? It took just seconds to figure it out that they weren't looking through a fence wanting to join the rest of the flock. Rather, all the others had disappeared. Their deep distress was fear that they had become flockless.I feared the same. I saw no turkeys in their yard or the nearby pasture. None were in the barn. Other than these four, there was turkey silence. Had they decamped into the woods or onto the road? What would I do with only four turkeys left when I had customer orders already in hand? “Am I being punished,” I wondered fleetingly, “for working on Rosh Hashanah instead of praying in synagogue?”Just days before I had seen the turkeys cross the fence line to the far northern section of pasture beyond the shale road and graze there, requiring me to trek out, open the gate and, in my role as flock leader, to march them back in (see pic above). I speculated that they might have gone there again, only further, invisible behind the ridge. But when I marched out they weren't there!Increasingly nervous, I turned back and went southwest toward the former pig pasture. Still silence. But as I descended the hill, finally two white forms appeared running out of the brush, one's beak locked on the other's neck, a battle for supremacy in motion. A few seconds later, dozens more materialized, like humans, gathering to watch the brawl. I heaved a sigh of relief. I had not been deserted. Really, it was a little silly for me to worry about divine punishment. Rosh Hashanah is just the start of ten days of repentance in the Jewish calendar. Not until Yom Kippur would the balance of my good and evil deeds get toted up, and my punishment, if any dictated.Nota bene: If the turkeys are to stick around, they need to feel wanted. It's not too early to start focusing on your Thanksgiving plans. If you have not yet reserved your bird, now would be a good time.From the time of the turkeys' reappearance, my very idiosyncratic Rosh Hashanah improved. I perhaps should explain that my parents taught me to be an atheist. Yet they sent me to orthodox Hebrew school and I was bar mitzvahed in an orthodox shul, which my parents explained to me as a mark of respect for my grandparents. That education left me with the residual disposition, even as a nonbeliever, to engage in a period of reflection at this time of year, contemplating my good deeds and my bad ones, and resolving how to improve. More than sitting in a crowded room struggling to read Hebrew words I don't understand, it is in the repetitive, intellectually undemanding farm work of weeding, shoveling, hauling and planting that my mind manages to enter a meditative, reflective state.What came to mind when I entered this zone? To begin with, context. It's easier to be good when things are good, and I had to recognize the good fortune I've enjoyed. The farm sustains me both as a process and with its products. I was struck yesterday, as I cleared vines off the raspberry patch and uncovered a bounty of raspberries, and again as I harvested corn from a stalk that just volunteered to grow next to the garden, how much it gives even when I don't do the work it really demands.I am joined on that farm by a very loose kind of intermittent family, some inherited but mostly assembled without my having had much intentionality about it. The cast of characters you've met in this bulletin is a contemporary approximation of the fantasies of living on a hippie collective I entertained but never had the nerve to pursue in my youth. As my brother-in-law said as he departed his last visit, “It's always nice to visit the commune.”Beyond that, I've had the enormous luck to love a man who loves me back and with whom I am building a life. I've enjoyed good health and my age has not yet significantly diminished my function.Have I done enough good acts to merit that good fortune? Honestly, probably not. Pressed to come up with some novel good acts of the preceding year, only one stood out: Belatedly, I've started to frankly express my appreciation to those who have made my current life possible. My default expression as a younger man was self-indulgently “woe is me.” Now, it is more often “thank you.”The thanks go not only to my friends and loved ones. In May, I visited my now 91-year-old, still very vital college mentor, an anthropology professor whom I thanked for teaching me the analytic skills I have used to navigate ever since. More recently, I tracked down my high school French teacher, now 78 and living in New Mexico, who in her first teaching job some 56 years ago taught us the pop songs of artists like Gilbert Bécaud. I thanked her for a little piece of stored knowledge that helped me endear myself to Eric by being able to sing along. We've struck up a correspondence, and she's once again improving my French.An afternoon focused on my good acts was necessarily short. It left plenty of opportunity over the next nine days to ruminate on the bad ones, which I may or may not share in a subsequent bulletin. Corn volunteers among the mugwort Photo by Mark Scherzer WHAT'S AVAILABLE THIS WEEKIn the red meat department, recently back from the processor, frozen lamb:Butterflied legs of lamb $16/lb Rib or Loin chops (packs of 2) $14/lb Small racks of lamb $14/lb Riblets (breast of lamb) $8/lb Lamb shanks (packs of 2) $12/lbIn the greens department:Swiss chard: $3/baggreen zucchini, $1 each Petite Green bell peppers $1.00 each Cucumbers: Suhyo long or regular slicing $1 each Green bell peppers: $1 each Frying peppers: 2 for $1 Jalapeno peppers: 3 for $1 Horseradish root: $2/lb. Sorrel: $3/bag Spearmint and regular mint $.75 a bunch Garlic chives $.75 a bunch Green Shiso leaves 10 for $1 (10 cents each)In the yellow and white palette: Eggs: $6/dozen WHAT ELSE IS AVAILABLE THIS WEEK - AN 1878 SQUARE GRAND PIANO FREEThat's right folks, I have finally as of July 27 received a Department of Environmental Conservation permit to transfer this antique piano, with its ivory keys. It has a venerable history and I want to find it a good home. You'd just need to come get it. Please email me at markscherzer@gmail.com or call at 917-544-6464 if you'd like to make it yours. RESERVING YOUR THANKSGIVING TURKEYTURKEY RESERVATION FORM 2023 TURKANA FARMS, LLC 110 Lasher Ave Germantown, NY 12526 farm@turkanafarms.com 917-544-6464 Name__________________________ e-mail__________________________________ Address________________________________________ Phone__________________ Please check here if you would like to receive email offerings in season:______________HERITAGE BREED TURKEYS: This year we are raising Holland Whites, Chocolates and Blue Slates, which will range from 7 to 18 lbs. Fed on organic feed, pastured all day once they get big enough to go out, protected on perching bars all night. Slaughtered the Sunday or Monday before Thanksgiving, delivered fresh, not frozen, in Lower Manhattan, at points along the Taconic Parkway, or at the farm. $12 lb plus $5 off premises pick up fee. Note: These sell out early.Number desired: ___________ Approx. weight ________ Pick up place: ___at the farm; ___Lower Manhattan___a point along the Taconic Parkway Please send a deposit of $40 per bird to hold your reservation to Turkana Farms, 110 Lasher Ave., Germantown, NY, 12526. Make check out to Turkana Farms, LLC.(Yes this luddite farm still uses checks). The balance due will be paid at the time of the pick up. FARM PICKUPS:Email us your order at farm@turkanafarms.com, and let us know when you'd like to pick up your order. It will be put out for you on the side screened porch of the farmhouse (110 Lasher Ave., Germantown) in a bag. You can leave cash or a check in the now famous pineapple on the porch table. Because I'm now here full time, we're abandoning regular pick-up times. Let us know when you want your order any day between 10 and 5, and unless there are unusual circumstances we'll be able to ready it to your convenience. If you have questions, don't hesitate to call or text at 917-544-6464 or email. HEAR OUR SHOWIf you'd enjoy hearing these bulletins out loud instead of reading them, we broadcast them on Robin Hood Radio, the nation's smallest NPR station. You can find it on FM 91.9, AM 1020, WBSL-FM 91.7 "The Voice of Berkshire School" or streaming on the web at www.robinhoodradio.com, where podcasts of past broadcasts are also available under the title AgriCulture in the "On Demand" section. FM 91.7 "The Voice of Berkshire School"can be heard from just south of Pittsfield to the CT border. You can hear the station on WHDD FM 91.9 from Ashley Falls, MA down through the Cornwalls and in NY from just south of Hillsdale down to Dover Plains. You can hear the station on AM1020 from Stockbridge, MA to Kent and from Poughkeepsie to Pawling to Kent, Goshen, Torrington, Norfolk, and Ashley. Recently added for those in the Route 22 corridor from Ancram down to Pawling is FM frequency 97.5 And of course you can listen in our own neighborhood of Southwestern Columbia and Northwestern Dutchess County, where it is being broadcast from Annandale on Hudson, 88.1 FM. FOLLOW USThe bulletins may also now be found in written form on line as well, at the Germantown, NY, portal ofhttp://imby.com/germantown/userblogs/agriculture-turkana-farms/

#Timmyboy #HappyWalrus #BellyRubs #DianaTaurasi #KatieLedecky #HenriettaLacks #Metamucil #HumbleDog #kittens

Belatedly, the boys are back. Because their were bodies in bits. A bit of rugby...ish. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Belatedly realizing that God is the most trustworthy person in my life Hebrews 4:15; John 14:16-18; Hebrews 13:5-6; 1 Corinthians 10:13

Anne-Marie Oomen is an essayist, memoirist, poet, playwright, and educator who is the author of seven books. Not only is she a late bloomer whose first book was published when she was 53 years old, her most recent book titled As Long as I Know You: The Mom Book, has won the Association of Writers & Writing Programs Sue William Silverman Award for Creative Nonfiction. The book focuses on the troubled relationship Anne-Marie held with her mom as her mom entered dementia, and how, as Anne-Marie began to lose her mother, they somehow, in awkward and comic ways, found each other. It is a compelling read for any adult grappling with a living elder who is challenging and difficult to begin with, then add the lethal combination of dementia and defiance to the painful mix.IN THIS EPISODE, YOU'LL HEAR ABOUT THINGS LIKE: · What it has been like for Anne-Marie to be a “late bloomer” who wrote her first book at 53 years old. · The ways Anne-Marie came to understand her mother better over time. · The important insight Anne-Marie gained from a trauma-broken teenaged girl with an anxiety disorder. · The story behind the title “As Long as I Know You.” SOME QUESTIONS IRENE ASKS ANNE-MARIE: · Did your mother eventually grow to accept you, including your non-compliance regarding her desires for your religious life? · What was the affirmation you received from your mother that you had not hoped for or expected in any way? · What have you learned about the underlying issue of elder care in the USA that you would like to share with our Grief and Rebirth Podcast audience?

Anne-Marie Oomen is an essayist, memoirist, poet, playwright, and educator who is the author of seven books. Not only is she a late bloomer whose first book was published when she was 53 years old, her most recent book titled As Long as I Know You: The Mom Book, has won the Association of Writers & Writing Programs Sue William Silverman Award for Creative Nonfiction. The book focuses on the troubled relationship Anne-Marie held with her mom as her mom entered dementia, and how, as Anne-Marie began to lose her mother, they somehow, in awkward and comic ways, found each other. It is a compelling read for any adult grappling with a living elder who is challenging and difficult to begin with, then add the lethal combination of dementia and defiance to the painful mix. IN THIS EPISODE, YOU'LL HEAR ABOUT THINGS LIKE: · What it has been like for Anne-Marie to be a “late bloomer” who wrote her first book at 53 years old. · The ways Anne-Marie came to understand her mother better over time. · The important insight Anne-Marie gained from a trauma-broken teenage girl with an anxiety disorder. · The story behind the title “As Long as I Know You.” SOME QUESTIONS IRENE ASKS ANNE-MARIE: · Did your mother eventually grow to accept you, including your non-compliance regarding her desires for your religious life? · What was the affirmation you received from your mother that you had not hoped for or expected in any way? · What have you learned about the underlying issue of elder care in the USA that you would like to share with our Grief and Rebirth Podcast audience? --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/griefandrebirth/support

Twigs and Stumpy are joined by Karun Sagar! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

This week we have a look at the 1974 film Captain Kronos – Vampire Hunter . This is Episode #397! Captain Kronos – Vampire Hunter is a 1974 British swashbuckling action horror film, written and directed by Brian Clemens, produced by Clemens and Albert Fennell for Hammer Film Productions, and starring Horst Janson, John Carson, Shane Briant, and Caroline Munro. The music score was composed by Laurie Johnson, supervised by Philip Martell. Belatedly released on 7 April 1974, the film was intended as the first in a series focused on the title character and his companions. Due to the film's violence and sexual subtext, Captain Kronos was rated R in North America. This was Clemens' only film as a director.

Howie Kurtz on President Biden speaking publicly on downing the UFOs, Nikki Haley's Indian heritage getting attacked and Senator John Fetterman checking into a hospital for depression treatment. Follow Howie on Twitter: @HowardKurtz For more #MediaBuzz click here Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

It's Monday, February 6th, A.D. 2023. This is The Worldview in 5 Minutes heard at www.TheWorldview.com. I'm Adam McManus. By Adam McManus (Adam@TheWorldview.com) Young Muslim woman in Indonesia comes to Christ Ruth, a 26-year-old Indonesian woman, was born into a Muslim family where 86% of the people follow the false god known as Allah. Since 2009, she has had a vivid, recurring dream.  She would walk up a hill, over and over again, feeling very tired. Later, in junior high school, the dream came again for two weeks. Except this time, she said, “I was not alone—I walked with a man. But when I woke up, I did not feel tired.” When she told the dream to a new Christian friend at school, the Christian girl said, “I think I know that man.”  After showing her a picture of what some painters believe Jesus looked like, Ruth said, “Yes! Who is He?” That prompted the curious Muslim girl to secretly buy and read a Bible, reports International Christian Concern. After graduating from high school, she worked in a beauty clinic in Jakarta where she took off her hijab, or Muslim head covering, because she felt uncomfortable theologically with it. In October 2019, while Ruth was scrolling on TikTok, she saw a quote from a church. It said, “You did not choose Me, but I chose you (John 15:16).” Intrigued, she started attending that church “without anyone knowing that I was a Muslim.” After learning more, she trusted Christ and was baptized in December 2019. After finding her Bible though, her mother discovered that Ruth had converted to Christianity, and kicked her out of the home. Today, living with a friend, she quoted Matthew 19:29 in which Jesus says, “Everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or wife or children or fields for My sake will receive a hundred times as much and will inherit eternal life.” According to Open Doors, Indonesia is the 33rd most difficult country to be a Christian. Please pray for other Muslims to accept Jesus Christ as their Savior as Ruth did. French Senate ready to enshrine abortion in the Constitution On February 3rd, the French Senate passed a draft law to include abortion in the Constitution, by a close vote of 166 votes in favor and 152 against, reports Evangelical Focus. Although the Senate Law Commission had rejected the text of the draft law last week, this time the new wording of the text convinced a majority. Philippe Bas, senator of the Republicans, presented the new text, which changes the term “right” for “freedom.” Here is the text. “The law determines the conditions under which a woman's freedom to terminate her pregnancy is exercised.” Biden belatedly shoots down Chinese spy balloon On Saturday, President Joe Biden belatedly authorized a military fighter jet, off the coast of South Carolina, to shoot down a Chinese spy balloon with a missile, reports Reuters.  It fell into the Atlantic Ocean. The balloon entered U.S. airspace in Alaska on January 28 before moving into Canadian airspace on Jan 30. It then re-entered U.S. airspace over northern Idaho on January 31. U.S. officials did not publicly disclose the spy balloon's presence over the United States until February 2nd. The Chinese spy balloon traveled over sensitive military sites including the Malmstrom Air Force Base in Cascade County, Montana where there are some 150 silos for intercontinental ballistic missiles, including the nuclear-capable Minuteman III. China condemned the military strike, saying the balloon was used for meteorological purposes, and that it had strayed into U.S. airspace "completely accidentally.” Those claims were flatly dismissed by U.S. officials. Appearing on Fox News Sunday, Republican Senator Tom Cotton of  Arkansas, a member of the Intelligence Committee, blasted President Biden for his belated response. SEN. TOM COTTON: “What began as a spy balloon has become a trial balloon, testing President Biden's strength and resolve. And unfortunately, the president failed that test. And that's dangerous for the American people. The president was paralyzed for an entire week by a balloon. “We should have shot this balloon down over the Aleutian Islands. We should have never allowed it to transit the entire continental United States. And I think there's a lot of open questions that the administration needs to answer to Congress on behalf of the American people about why they didn't. “I think part is the president's reluctance to take any action that will be viewed as provocative or confrontational towards the Chinese Communists. I would say what's provocative and confrontation is sending a spy balloon all across America.” As a result of the brouhaha, Secretary of State Antony Blinken postponed his visit to China last week that had been expected to start on Friday. Bill Maher: Similarities between "Woke Revolution" & Mao's Cultural Revolution On Friday's broadcast of the HBO show called “Real Time,” host Bill Maher, a liberal who has increasingly told the truth, likened America's "woke revolution" to the Chinese Cultural Revolution, reports RealClearPolitics.com. In his monologue, he said we've embraced the "re-education" policies under Chairman Mao Zedong. MAHER: “Yesterday, I asked ChatGPT, 'Are there any similarities between today's woke revolution and Chairman Mao's Cultural Revolution of the 1960s?' And it wrote back, 'How long do you have?'” (laughter) "Because, in China, we saw how a revolutionary thought he could do a page-one rewrite -- of humans. Mao ordered his citizens to throw off the four “olds” -- old thinking, old culture, old customs, and old habits. So, your whole life went in the garbage overnight. No biggie. And those who resisted were attacked by an army of purifiers called the Red Guard who went around the country putting dunce caps on people who didn't take to being a new kind of mortal being. A lot of pointing and shaming went on. Oh, and about a million dead. And the only way to survive was to plead insanity for the crime of being insufficiently radical and then apologize and thank the State and of course, submit to re-education, or as we call it here in America, freshman orientation." (laughter) Proverbs 12:17 says, “He who speaks truth tells what is right.” South Dakota House passes ban on ‘gender transitions' for minors And finally, South Dakota is one step closer to eliminating dangerous transgender drugs and mutilating surgeries for youth, reports LifeSiteNews.com. Last Friday, the South Dakota House passed a ban on chemical castration and cosmetic reproductive surgeries for minors in an overwhelming 60-10 vote. Close And that's The Worldview on this Monday, February 6th, in the year of our Lord 2023. Subscribe by iTunes or email to our unique Christian newscast at www.TheWorldview.com. Or get the Generations app through Google Play or The App Store. I'm Adam McManus (Adam@TheWorldview.com). Seize the day for Jesus Christ.

After Jeff takes an unnecessary vacation, the lads are finally ready to discuss the results of United's trip to Arsenal, the transfer window, and other assorted nonsense. Oh and Jeff has another game for Schuyler!

Making a new friend; Stage fright is universal; A raucous party. Goblet (Willy), Gobplerk (Roy) and Kaurnflek (Juanne) continue exploring the underground dungeon underneath Solsco. They make a shocking discovery (and find pizza). Beatdown City -- Darren Curtis; Dungeon-Cave -- YouFulca; Myth from Collapse -- Presence of Music;  Shady Town; Whimsical Town; Happy Long -- Daddy s Music;  City of Duisburg -- One Man Symphony,  CCBY4.0

A trip to Solsco; Shopping can be dangerous; A hidden dungeon. It's the holiday special that no one asked for. Goblet (Willy), Gobplerk (Roy) and Kaurnflek (Juanne) go on an adventure to the Solsco wholesaler to celebrate the holidays. Beatdown City -- Darren Curtis; Winter Snow -- YouFulca; Shady Town; Chasing Victory Main; City of Duisburg -- One Man Symphony,  CCBY4.0

In the flurry of big news stories at new year -- Ukraine, of course, the deaths of Pope Benedict and Barbara Walters, and more -- this was an easy story to miss in the New York Times on New Year's Day: How Central Ohio Got People to Eat Their Leftovers. It was an important piece of reporting, though, once again reminding us that each of our individual actions contribute to carbon emissions and global warming. The story focused on how the Solid Waste Authority of Central Ohio (SWACO) was trying to change behaviors in its region to reduce food waste coming to its landfills. Why? It turns out that one third of the food Americans buy is thrown away. Households throw more food away than restaurants, grocery stores or farms. All of the rotting food in landfills emits about double the carbon that commercial aviation emits. Cutting this waste stream could not only save precious space in landfills but also contribute significantly to minimizing climate change. SWACO is effectively swaying behavior through various means of public education, including teaching people how to shop more efficiently and to use leftovers deliciously. It has been particularly successful in using an army of influencers to change household behavior. Who are they? Kids, who learn in school about both the pernicious effects of food waste and how yummy leftovers can be, and who then wage highly insistent food conservation campaigns at home. The story made me smile. I have long been a devoted antagonist of food waste. In early adulthood, I fought food waste chiefly through voracious eating. If I couldn't finish a particularly delicious dish, I would put it in the fridge and begin grazing on it a few hours later, and periodically every couple of hours, until it was consumed. Alas, you can't eat that way forever. I was fortunate, therefore, to meet my late partner, Peter, who liked to put leftovers away and transform them the next day. When Peter's kids would visit him for the summer they went into revolt when the rice left over from dinner became the basis of rice salad for the next lunch, and the leftovers of that went into something else the following day. But for him it was a matter of both principle and economic necessity. And I loved the rice salads, which I continue to make, middle Eastern style, to this day. I love that in this respect Eric bears a strong resemblance to Peter. It pains him not to use leftovers, and I am at times astonished at his skill in doing so. Last week he somehow cleaned out 5 or 6 different tupperware containers of leftovers in the fridge, combined them into a lunch melange that he heated in the microwave, and produced a lunch that I would gladly eat again, if only that combination of ingredients could ever be reproduced. There are, of course, inevitably going to be food scraps that we find unpalatable or leftovers that, through negligence or bad placement in the fridge, get left behind. For some of these I have specific uses, such as coffee grinds that I spread around the rose bushes. For other items I had planned, when contemplating this bulletin, to recommend employing pigs. Pigs are omnivores. They like virtually everything we like, and then some. They will eat, with gusto, apple cores, meat bones, wilted lettuce, corn cobs and the glop at the center of a pumpkin. In my years of raising pigs I learned what they won't eat (e.g. citrus, leeks), or what makes them sick (avocado pits and peels, uncooked potatoes) but it's a pretty short list. Some of you may recall that in 2009, the Egyptian government culled all Egypt's pig herds, ostensibly to forestall an outbreak of swine flu but, some suspected, motivated in part by a desire to rid the country of pork, which to Muslims, like Jews, is a forbidden food. The cull affected not only the Christian minority who ate pork, but also a caste of people, the Zebbaleen, that collected trash in order to extract the food waste and feed it to pigs they kept. Trash began to pile up in the streets; the government could not afford to take up the trash collection. Belatedly, Egypt Spots Flaws in Wiping Out Pigs (New York Times, Sept. 9, 2009). Soon enough, even if not officially approved, the pigs were back. I have relied to a huge extent on Possum, my old remaining sow, to take care of my food scraps. And knowing how she appreciated variety in her diet, I expanded by reaching beyond my own household. I took piggy bags home from restaurants or from dinner at friends'. My friend, Tom, brought bags of frozen Possum goodies he saved in the freezer. Though it's undoubtedly no solution for you urbanites or suburbanites, for country-dwellers a domestic pig could serve as another means of making food waste disappear. I had planned to make this recommendation, but events got in the way. Possum died two days ago, quite suddenly. We buried her this morning. And I'm pretty sure I'm not going to replace her. When your consumer of food waste is also a sentient being and the relationship has other dimensions, you can't consider her food consumption role in isolation. I may myself now turn to composting my food waste. But I still believe wholeheartedly in not letting edibles go uneaten. In that spirit, I make my annual plea to those of you who have unsprayed Christmas trees you are about to dispose of. Consider bringing them over to the farm, where my sheep will find the tree needles to be a delightful plate of leftovers. WHAT'S AVAILABLE THIS WEEK: Just a few things. Eggs are in hiatus until these new girls get a bit bigger. The old girls are producing just a couple a day. Lamb is sold out but I'm preparing to send 5 or 6 more off to market. If you want to order a whole or half lamb cut to your specifications at $7/lb hanging weight, please let me know. Last produce: Salad turnips, $2/bunch FARM PICKUPS: Email us your order at farm@turkanafarms.com, and let us know when you'd like to pick up your order. It will be put out for you on the side screened porch of the farmhouse (110 Lasher Ave., Germantown) in a bag. You can leave cash or a check in the now famous pineapple on the porch table. Because I'm now here full time, we're abandoning regular pick-up times. Let us know when you want your order any day between 10 and 5, and unless there are unusual circumstances we'll be able to ready it to your convenience. If you have questions, don't hesitate to call or text at 917-544-6464 or email.

Max Rushden, Barry Glendenning, Lars Sivertsen and Archie Rhind-Tutt round up the final Champions League action in groups A to D. Help support our independent journalism at theguardian.com/footballweeklypod

Where the pod has an anti-movie agenda with topics as diverse and broad-ranging as the India Pakistan match, the tensions between Rohit and Virat fans, RaGa's yatra, Stalin and PTR and DNA tests in Gujarat. Oh and happy deepavali, folks. Belatedly, anyway.

Holmberg's Morning Sickness - Tuesday August 9, 2022

Holmberg's Morning Sickness - Tuesday August 9, 2022 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Ep. 303 - That's right we get caught up with the NBA Finals, the Stanley Cups Finals, and qualifying for the World Cup. Then we talk about Zach's crazy week that concluded with him bombing in the pulpit (24:00). Of course, we'll get you ready to preach (31:20), then the music! The Playlist “Jurassic Park” theme, John Williams “Follow you, follow me,” Genesis “Don't Look back in anger,” Oasis "Drinking in LA" - Bran Van 3000 "Summertime" - DJ Jazzy Jeff & the Fresh Prince "Fox on the Run" - Sweet Listen to the full playlist over on the Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4dTReQd8Bh4HZC5KprxXDg?si=9eca4a8ad9ce4c4b Become a Vinyl Preacher Patreon Supporter! https://www.patreon.com/thevinylpreacher Matt Keadle is the pastor of St Mark's Lutheran Church and Campus Ministry in Los Angeles. Zach Parris is the pastor of Lutheran Campus Ministry at the University of Colorado. The Vinyl Preacher was the recipient of the 2019 Joseph Sittler Award given by the Lutheran Campus Ministry Network.

Hello and Happy new year! (Belatedly!)We are starting this year off with a bang hearing from the beautiful and determined Kellie Wilton. Kellie is currently the principal midwifery officer at the ACM and has a rich midwifery background. Kellie is an experienced midwife with a demonstrated history working across professional practice, clinical and education domains. Skilled in midwifery, advocacy, policy, legislation, regulation, professional practice, education, health promotion, research, birth, and pregnancy.This episode discusses Kellie's challenges in studying with kids and then trying to make employment sustainable after graduating, she talks us through the highs and lows of her career including workplace bullying and securing job roles she never thought possible. And chats through her advice for advocacy when trying to improve maternity care.We hope you love hearing from Kellie and noticing her distinct strength in owning her achievements and not brushing them aside which i think we often do!We are hoping to get episodes out monthly at the moment and Thankyou for being so patient!Bonnie and Megan

A bruising but slightly more encouraging third day for England in the 4th Test but who will still be standing by the fifth?! Simon Hughes and Simon Mann report Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

This episode briefly touches upon some of the meanings of Capricorn Season before joining three, umm, friends, on a park bench to ramble about how Capricorn Season relates to current events, listening to a reading of an upcoming blog post of mine titled "The Two Questions I'd Ask Bill Gates," and taking in a reading about the lack of integrity of the mainstream media coverage about Ivermectin from Robert F. Kennedy Jr.'s book and then we'll end it with a classic rock song by one of the legendary artists of the genre, a band which has two members who are Capricorns. Enjoy! If you want to connect with me, find me at: Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/bryan.winchell2/ https://www.facebook.com/TheBandPRealmPodcast Twitter: https://twitter.com/BandPRealmPod Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/bryanwinchell?fan_landing=true Media Links "The Two Questions I'd Ask Bill Gates" (my blog post which I read on this episode) Eric Francis' Coppolino's excellent work: Planet Waves FM and Planet Waves Net Chiron Return's Working Draft of Coronavirus Timeline (through April 2020) One of My Favorite Disco Biscuit Shows (especially the “Digital Buddha” at 38:45) Led Zeppelin, “The Rover” My favorite band, Phish, covering “The Rover” "The Real Anthony Fauci: Bill Gates, Big Pharma, and the Global War on Democracy" by Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. (for the low price of $2.99!)

* Proposed FCC rule will ignore private property, zoning laws, homeowners associations and health issues to put 5G antennas wherever corporate/govt wishes* Trump discovers 1st Amendment 6 months after leaving office.  Now he's saying ALL the right things — and RAISING MONEY, which is likely the only point in his lawsuit. *  Prophetic Parody — The Onion, 10 years ago, predicted EXACTLY what just happened in Afghanistan.  If only it was just comedy* CDC assumed god-like power under Trump and is continuing it under Biden (with the permission of SCOTUS' Kavanaugh).  Here's what will happen...* God vs Aliens — about the same number of people believe in both and as WaPo attacks Christians as insurrectionists, they hit on an uncomfortable truthTOPICS by TIMECODE2:00 Prophetic Parody — “The Onion” predicted 10 years ago EXACTLY how US would exit Afghanistan. The tragic farce of reality18:22 Profits are not a consideration when the goal is monopoly  at Sun Valley, the new Bilderberg, tech, media and political leaders conspire to enact the GreatReset agenda29:36 Local ranches and farms are the solution to “carbon” — not centralized, monopoly control of food35:10 FCC New Rule Will Trample Private Property & Individual Health to Push 5G.   Proposed FCC rule will ignore private property, zoning laws, homeowners associations and health issues to put 5G antennas wherever corporate/govt wishes49:30 Cuomo Declares “Disaster Emergency” to Come After 2nd Amendment.   Sound familiar? PRECEDENT Trump laid the groundwork for it and many other attacks on the Constitution and individual liberty with his Executive Orders1:05:13 UK Twitter Bot Campaign to Counter Massive London Demonstration.   We saw the same thing last year to pressure Italy into lockdown.  Now as BoJo fears massive, authentic, human resistance with over 500,000 people in one campaign, a fake counter-protest by Twitter bots arises1:07:23 CDC power grab over evictions & foreclosures will wreak havoc with all real estate. But who will be made whole?  The upside world of lockdown & a command/control economy has $100/person surcharges added by restaurants and used car prices of the same model higher than new prices.1:19:58 Trump finally discovers the First Amendment (kind of).  He's saying the right things but will his lawsuit do anything other than raise money for his “America First Policy Institute”?1:32:41 Escalating FBI & TSA surveillance & harassment of lawful Jan 6 protestors exposed 1:39:35 Beware the next generation of lawyers — who despise Free Speech1:43:25  God vs Aliens.  About the same number of people believe in both God and in Aliens. As Washington Post attacks Christians as insurrectionists, they accidentally hit on an uncomfortable truthFind out more about the show and where you can watch it at TheDavidKnightShow.comIf you would like to support the show and our family please consider subscribing monthly here: SubscribeStar https://www.subscribestar.com/the-david-knight-showOr you can send a donation throughZelle: @DavidKnightShow@protonmail.comCash App at:  $davidknightshowBTC to:  bc1qkuec29hkuye4xse9unh7nptvu3y9qmv24vanh7Mail:     David Knight     POB 1323     Elgin, TX 78621

* Proposed FCC rule will ignore private property, zoning laws, homeowners associations and health issues to put 5G antennas wherever corporate/govt wishes * Trump discovers 1st Amendment 6 months after leaving office.  Now he's saying ALL the right things — and RAISING MONEY, which is likely the only point in his lawsuit.  *  Prophetic Parody — The Onion, 10 years ago, predicted EXACTLY what just happened in Afghanistan.  If only it was just comedy * CDC assumed god-like power under Trump and is continuing it under Biden (with the permission of SCOTUS' Kavanaugh).  Here's what will happen... * God vs Aliens — about the same number of people believe in both and as WaPo attacks Christians as insurrectionists, they hit on an uncomfortable truth TOPICS by TIMECODE 2:00 Prophetic Parody — “The Onion” predicted 10 years ago EXACTLY how US would exit Afghanistan. The tragic farce of reality 18:22 Profits are not a consideration when the goal is monopoly  at Sun Valley, the new Bilderberg, tech, media and political leaders conspire to enact the GreatReset agenda 29:36 Local ranches and farms are the solution to “carbon” — not centralized, monopoly control of food 35:10 FCC New Rule Will Trample Private Property & Individual Health to Push 5G.   Proposed FCC rule will ignore private property, zoning laws, homeowners associations and health issues to put 5G antennas wherever corporate/govt wishes 49:30 Cuomo Declares “Disaster Emergency” to Come After 2nd Amendment.   Sound familiar? PRECEDENT Trump laid the groundwork for it and many other attacks on the Constitution and individual liberty with his Executive Orders 1:05:13 UK Twitter Bot Campaign to Counter Massive London Demonstration.   We saw the same thing last year to pressure Italy into lockdown.  Now as BoJo fears massive, authentic, human resistance with over 500,000 people in one campaign, a fake counter-protest by Twitter bots arises 1:07:23 CDC power grab over evictions & foreclosures will wreak havoc with all real estate. But who will be made whole?  The upside world of lockdown & a command/control economy has $100/person surcharges added by restaurants and used car prices of the same model higher than new prices. 1:19:58 Trump finally discovers the First Amendment (kind of).  He's saying the right things but will his lawsuit do anything other than raise money for his “America First Policy Institute”? 1:32:41 Escalating FBI & TSA surveillance & harassment of lawful Jan 6 protestors exposed  1:39:35 Beware the next generation of lawyers — who despise Free Speech 1:43:25  God vs Aliens.  About the same number of people believe in both God and in Aliens. As Washington Post attacks Christians as insurrectionists, they accidentally hit on an uncomfortable truth Find out more about the show and where you can watch it at TheDavidKnightShow.com If you would like to support the show and our family please consider subscribing monthly here: SubscribeStar https://www.subscribestar.com/the-david-knight-show Or you can send a donation through Zelle: @DavidKnightShow@protonmail.com Cash App at:  $davidknightshow BTC to:  bc1qkuec29hkuye4xse9unh7nptvu3y9qmv24vanh7 Mail:      David Knight      POB 1323      Elgin, TX 78621

A version of this article has been published by rediff.com at https://www.rediff.com/news/column/india-blundered-along-like-others-did/20210623.htmThere is a loud chorus of voices blaming India for somehow messing up its response to the massive wave of Wuhan virus (Covid-19) infections that have devastated the country. Many articles and editorials have come out in both the Indian media and western media suggesting that the Government of India was negligent, indifferent, or both; in effect that it criminally abdicated its responsibility to the people of India. It is normal to expect these cavils from political parties and from the mainstream media. In India the MSM is highly compromised and infiltrated by vested interests, both from local political parties and from foreign powers set on propagating a narrative that leads, inevitably, to regime change, and, preferably, balkanization. One of these outbursts was an editorial in the Lancet, a British medical journal, that puts the blame squarely on the GoI (with no blame attributed to the State governments, despite the fact that health is a State responsibility). I used to be impressed by the Lancet as essentially the paper of record in medicine, but a massive screw-up last year in regards to HCQ made me change my mind, and realize that politics takes precedence over science.I wrote a long essay, Pious Frauds, https://openthemagazine.com/essay/pious-frauds/ about how credentialism rather than scientific truth is the hallmark of some of these storied institutions. The Lancet has been in the middle of several serious frauds, and it is astonishing that they still have a sterling reputation. So I would take their opinions with a large grain of salt, unless supported by impeccable data/evidence, which it is not in this case. Even purportedly neutral scientists and labs labor under agendas.Here’s more on bad faith from the Lancet. Much the same happened with another cheap, off-patent drug, Ivermectin. In both these cases, it was not at all convenient for Big Pharma that cheap, generic drugs made mostly in India would eat into their windfall profits. Let us note that Pfizer made a profit of $15 billion in 2020. Moderna made a profit for the first time in its history in Q1 2021. Also, Gilead Pharma’s Remdesivir, that was pushed as some sort of panacea, but in the event it proved mostly useless.Another case in point is the increasingly vocal allegation that the US government in effect colluded with the Wuhan Institute of Virology to do gain-of-function research in bat coronaviruses, which made them far more potent as well as transmissible to humans. Anthony Fauci, Peter Daszak, and others look like they concealed conflicts of interest and deliberately propagated the narrative that the Wuhanvirus must have evolved naturally. Nicholas Wade’s seminal essay, republished by the Bulletin of Atomic Scientists, is a scathing indictment of the media and its omerta in burying an important story that somehow didn’t fit their narrative: the lab-origin hypothesis, and in particular the conflicts of interests. See https://nicholaswade.medium.com/origin-of-covid-following-the-clues-6f03564c038 and a video version at https://unherd.com/thepost/nicholas-wade-the-case-for-the-covid-lab-leak-theory/It looks increasingly likely that the Wuhanvirus was developed in a lab and was either leaked because of poor security in BSL-2 and BSL-3 labs, or, more alarmingly, that it was deliberately released as a bio-weapon. That is significant, for a variety of reasons: of most concern, the possibility of bio-warfare, which would be considered a crime against humanity, considering almost every country has signed treaties against it.On a more mundane level, it means that the Wuhanvirus outbreaks are in effect, force majeure, by definition things that cannot be defended against or predicted, as they are unpredictable and out of the expected set of possible scenarios. All of us, individuals and societies alike, make plans based on events with a non-trivial probability. When an extremely improbable event hits -- Nassim Taleb famously called these Black Swan events -- it is beyond the scope of our normal strategic planning. This goes hand-in-hand with the sensible engineering principle of built-in safety factors. For instance, an engineer designing anything, a bridge, an aircraft, or a circuit, will assume a certain level of uncertainty, and build in some slack say 30-50% over the designed load. This enables the system to be resilient in the face of a sudden surge or stress on the system. But there are practical limits to how much safety you can build in, because there is a cost to it. You can design in 100% or 200% margins of error, or more, but these start to get expensive. There is a tradeoff: so you take an informed decision about the expected value of the maximum stress. That is what you engineer the system for.A good example is the Fukushima reactor in Japan. It was (I may be a little bit off on the numbers, but bear with me for the principle) built to withstand an 8.5 earthquake on the Richter scale. There have been no quakes greater than 8.2 for 500 years, or since accurate records started being maintained. So that seems like a fair tradeoff on cost and risk. In fact, no project manager will approve the budget for reinforcing it to withstand an 8.8 quake.But what happens if you get hit with a 9.0 earthquake? The system is overloaded, and all bets are off. There is catastrophic failure.This is more of less what happened to every health system in the world when the Wuhavirus struck. India is no exception. Neither was the US when it was going through its peak: a year later, there are still hundreds of unclaimed bodies stored in refrigerated trucks; and there were mass graves with tens of bodies buried on an island near New York City. Nor was Italy, when people were dying in droves on ventilators. Nor was Osaka, more recently.There is more: Thailand, Vietnam and several other countries, which had escaped the calamity earlier, are now showing signs of new outbreaks. The virus continues to ravage the world. So the first point is that it was not humanly possible to fend off the lethal virus, in particular the 617 or Delta variant, which was far more infectious in the second wave: its R0 was greater than 3 or even touching 4 in many places, which implies a combinatorial explosion in terms of infections. The second point is that India was complacent about how it had escaped catastrophe, and ‘boasted’ about how it was “vaccine supplier to the world”. There is some quote from PM Modi at the World Economic Forum that India had defeated the virus; this is trotted out by all and sundry to show hubris on the part of the Indian government. This reminds me of the ritual in Silicon Valley companies called “the massacre of the innocent”. After every failed project, there is a meeting to apportion blame. Some suitable bystander is anointed as the scapegoat, and the entire thing is blamed on him (it’s usually a man). The actual culprits who messed up are given a pass, and are sometimes promoted. The point is that if somebody made a reasonable decision, one that was appropriate given the information on hand at the time, cannot be blamed for the circumstances changing later. Hindsight does not count. Yes, one should anticipate, even war-game, for various scenarios, but you cannot be expected to be omniscient. By finding a scapegoat (which, historically, comes from a Middle Eastern custom of actually blaming a goat for all the ills that befall the village, and forcing it to wander off into the desert) you allow the real culprits to escape. This is what happens all the time in business, and surely elsewhere too.Given the circumstances after the first wave subsided around the end of the year, it really did look like the strict lockdown had taken the wind out of the sails of the virus, and India was expecting to produce large volumes of Covishield and Covaxin over the first few months of 2021. So much so that India would give away some doses to small developing countries, and sell a lot more to the Covax alliance that would in turn distribute to the developing world.Production levels at least for Covishield were seriously affected by a February 2021 (yes, Biden era) ban on exports of critical components under the US Defense Production Act. Belatedly, on June 4th, these restrictions were lifted. Here’s the New Indian Express’ coverage:India was being a good global citizen in providing free vaccine to small countries; the contrast with big developed nations could not be more dramatic -- the latter were ordering 3 or 4 times the total doses they needed. In addition, the US was hoarding 45 million doses of the AstraZeneca vaccine which isn’t approved for use in that country. Classic dog in the manger syndrome. There are loud commitments from the G7 to provide a billion doses of vaccine free of cost to poor countries. This is good, but as Ronald Reagan once said, “Trust but verify”. I’d like to read the fine print. Does this mean a billion doses of mRNA vaccines from Pfizer and Moderna? What about the sovereign guarantees required by Pfizer as well as indemnity against any claims of side-effects? Who is going to provide that?To sum it up, I have to fall back upon something from the Christian Bible: “let he who hath not sinned cast the first stone”. Not to say that India couldn’t have handled the situation better, but on average, it didn’t do anywhere near as badly as the naysayers make it out. It blundered along, exactly as every other country did. 1592 words, June 12th, 2021 This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit rajeevsrinivasan.substack.com

Howie Kurtz on Donald Trump attacking President Biden at CPAC, Gov. Cuomo being accused of sexual harassment by a second former aide and Tina Fey and Amy Poehler calling out the Hollywood Foreign Press for lack of diversity.

Howie Kurtz on Donald Trump attacking President Biden at CPAC, Gov. Cuomo being accused of sexual harassment by a second former aide and Tina Fey and Amy Poehler calling out the Hollywood Foreign Press for lack of diversity.

Merry Christmas and Seasons Greetings! We celebrate this time of year by watching some cheesy Christmas movies and we have our special guests helping us to poke a bit of fun at them.Twitter: @Our2CPodcastInstagram: our_two_cents_podcastMusic from https://filmmusic.io'Cold Funk' by Kevin MacLeod (https://incompetech.com)License: CC BY (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/)

Heyyyy y'all! Did you miss me? I know I missed all of you. This week's appetizer is an update of what's going on with work and grad school. For my main course, I list 10 things I am thankful for. Yes, I know Thanksgiving has already passed but I felt it necessary to acknowledge the people and things that I am grateful for. And finally, the dessert I have finally found the perfect undergarments and I am so excited. Please don't forget to Rate, Comment, and Subscribe! Invisible Black Girl

Simon's live report for James O'Brien's programme on the UK's LBC.

After a few unplanned weeks off, the boys are back, talking Apple (of course), Twitter’s newest features, as well as video game consoles, and social media shenanigans!

Simon's weekly round-up for Eddie Mair's programme on the UK's LBC.  Live every Friday at 4:50pm.

Simon's live report for CNA with presenter Jill Neubronner.

A podcast could never even begin to do justice to all the justice done by Ruth Bader Ginsburg in her 87 years of life. But perhaps it can help send a few more good humans to law school. In this listener mailbag episode, Branden & Jelena answer questions from the Legal Level audience—now dubbed by Branden “Levelheads.” In this episode, questions from listeners Robert, Rachel, Kendall, and Madison. You'll learn: How much a low GPA will hold you back in law school admissions Who to ask for letters of recommendation when you haven't been in school for a decade or more What to do if you're struggling with Reading Comprehension because of your reading speed How much students should worry about competing with 2020 admission-deferrers for seats in law school classes starting Fall 2021 Baruch dayan emet. Tzedek, tzedek, tirdof. Links and further resources from from this week's episode: ‘We have lost a giant': Ruth Bader Ginsburg (1933-2020): https://today.law.harvard.edu/in-memoriam-ruth-bader-ginsburg/ 83-Year-Old RBG Reads Her Husband's Final Love Letter Aloud in 2016 WBUR Interview: https://wbur.fm/3comztc Free Scholarly Journal Articles: https://app.dimensions.ai/discover/publication?and_facet_open_access=True "33 Common LSAT Flaws", Available Now in Paperback & Kindle Formats: https://amzn.to/3efTuzY Start Your LSATMax Free Trial: - https://go.onelink.me/z1Zu/689fb4b4 Start Your 1L Free Trial Now: - https://go.onelink.me/iOM8/68e2c335 Start Your BarMax Free Trial Now: - https://go.onelink.me/3011142272/d02ba2de

Just me --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/Danger_Close_USA/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/Danger_Close_USA/support

We're BACK and we CAN'T WAIT to tell you about some spooky stuff! (Belatedly) celebrate Easter with some ghost rabbits; then learn about the horrible, disgusting forms that the various hierarchies of angels take! What's that unspeakable monstrosity? Just your guardian angel, don't worry about it!

The NCAA men’s basketball championship game would have been played on Monday night. College basketball was still on our minds Tuesday. Kansas State beat writer Kellis Robinett speaks to the revolving door that is the Wildcats’ roster and what it means for Coach Bruce Weber and a program that finished last place in the Big 12 last season. Also, Oklahoman columnist Berry Tramel provides his thoughts on Eddie Sutton’s induction into the Naismith Basketball Hall of Fame. Everyone agrees Sutton, who amassed more than 800 career victories mostly at Creighton, Arkansas, Kentucky and Oklahoma and took three teams to the Final Four, deserved the honor. But Tramel explains how the timing was unfortunate for the Cowboys coaching great. Story links: Kansas State point guard David Sloan will transfer after one season with the WIldcats Why junior college point guard Rudi Williams took a leap of faith and committed to K-State Berry Tramel: Basketball Hall of Fame finally shows some grace to Eddie Sutton Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Belatedly we catch up with the critical furore around Birds of Prey: And the Fantabulous Emancipation of one Harley Quinn (...now rebranded as Harley Quinn: Birds of Prey).  After wading through all of ...that... we cover Queen & Slim, out in Australia this week. Written by Lena Waithe and directed by Melina Matsoukas, this film takes head on the themes of 'black lives matter' and police violence head on. Emmet argues Waithe's screenply juxtaposes the figures of Slim (Daniel Kaluuya) and Queen (Jodie Turner-Smith), with the idea of the outlaw so precious to American folklore. Full of sudden bursts of violence and artfully staged sequences that point to Matsoukas' history as a music video director, Queen & Slim is a provocative and rich picture for our times.  Also mentioned: Soda and Telecast's Anthony Pollack interviews Emmet  Emmet interviews Dr Brian Cremins on Shazam! And the What's in my Bag Flea ep.

The Ringer's Bill Simmons, Sean Fennessey, and Chris Ryan reexamine Steven Soderbergh's 2011 thriller ‘Contagion,' starring Gwyneth Paltrow, Matt Damon, Laurence Fishburne, and Jude Law.

John and Shane take a look back at the main events in the ecclesial year in 2019 looking at what happened for things papal, international stories as well as things which happened nationally and locally in Ireland. We also do a small bit of crystal ball gazing what is coming up in 2020 for things ecclesial. Belatedly we also have a short segment to mark the 75th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz for Holocaust Memorial Day which is a short excerpt from the address of the German President in Israel on 23rd January 2020.

On this weeks programme (a little later than we normal do it) John and Shane take a look back at the main events in the ecclesial year in 2019 looking at what happened for things papal, international stories as well as things which happened nationally and locally in Ireland. We have our regular saints of the week including the selection of this years radio programme patron (St John Bosco) and a short reflection on this weeks Sunday gospel which is that of the Feast of the Presentation. Belatedly we also have a short segment to mark the 75th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz for Holocaust Memorial Day which is a short excerpt from the address of the German President in Israel on 23rd January 2020.

The boys talk about experts. No, that's insincere. The boys rant about how prolific supposed experts are on the internet. Remember, Carl and Catfish are NOT EXPERTS and make no claims of expertise in anything. This allows them to rant without being hypocritical. Also, some discussion of people talking about people they knew who killed themselves. Sorry about that. Stop Hating Yourself will be recording LIVE at the Tucson Fringe Festival on January 11, 2020 at 3 PM at the Temple of Music and Arts Cabaret Theater. Details at tucsonfringe.org Like! Subscribe! Rate! Comment! Tell your friends! @stophatingcast on Instagram and Twitter and of course Facebook. Don't forget to visit www.stophatredofcasting.com while you are at it. Send your most beloved/reviled affirmations or some other BS to stophatingcast@gmail.com

Belatedly we discuss Ireland's performance against Wales, and how a good old fashioned show of aggression dismissed some of our lingering 2019 anxieties. We also take a fairly freewheeling look at the rest of the Rugby World Cup which bloody well starts this week!

James Robinson, a black Revolutionary War hero, was denied his liberty and military honors. He was finally given a military funeral on Saturday in his adopted hometown of Detroit.

Native women’s group loses discrimination case. In 1991, when the federal government was trying to change the constitution, it gave $10 million to four aboriginal groups to secure their input throughout an extensive consultative process. Unfortunately, the government overlooked the Native Women’s Association of Canada (NWAC), whose members felt they should have been at what they considered a male-dominated table. Belatedly trying to correct matters, the government gave NWAC $560,000, but it didn’t stop the women from taking the federal government to court for violating their charter rights – by denying them freedom of expression and discriminating against them based on gender. On March 30, 1992, Judge Walsh of the federal Court of Canada dismissed the case, saying that while more money would have given the NWAC more voice in the process, it is not up to the courts to ensure that every organization has money during a consultative process. The judge also found that the other four aboriginal groups represented both men and women, and therefore the court should not be interfering with the government’s choices. This decision was appealed all the way to the Supreme Court of Canada, which agreed with Judge Walsh in dismissing the case. See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

“aren’t you afraid?” Belatedly following on from issue 3 of the podcast(!) – in which we spoke to producer James Mielke about Child of Eden – we finally get around to taking a deep dive […] The post Rez – Cane and Rinse No.303 appeared first on Cane and Rinse.

After an extended rest period, Chris and Gary Talk Sport return with a new format in which we focus on just one sporting subject... and what a subject we've picked for Episode 9.Belatedly, we look back at the 2018 World Cup Finals Draw and give you our assessment of the teams involved along with a lengthy prediction of how the competition will play out.What fate awaits England after what could be another misguidingly competent qualification campaign? Will Portugal follow up their win in Euro 2016 with their first World Cup? And which teams do Gary think will qualify from The Group of Mild Peril?Warm those balls, plug in your earphones and listen in to find out. Chris and Gary are Russian to tell you more...** (ouch)Listen in to episode 9 by downloading the MP3 file here, or download our podcast via iTunes or AudioBoom.

Matt Dunn guest host for Dan Caplis. John McCain's Boot Scootin' Boogie. Switching feet on his orthopedic prosthetic? Studies in the "Letting Lies Linger" technique of Modern Propaganda. Establishment Smear Machine fighting for survival, clinging to power, and lying to do so. Belatedly, FBI & DOJ officials admit they've been unable to "verify or corroborate" the dirty trick Trump Dossier. The WSJ's Kimberly Strassel weighs in. Plus, New Bombshell Revelation: According to its own bank records, the weasels at Fusion GPS "paid journalists" to write stories. But now we need the names. Meanwhile, as Newt Gingrich calls for a congressional Uranium One investigation, Hillary Clinton hits the panic button. Also, our notes from Jacques Barzun's treatise on the decline of Western Civilization, From Dawn to Decadence. With Listener Calls & Music via Sheryl Crow and Portugal The Man.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Belatedly after Tim's Balkan jaunt and after Phil and JB's heads have finally recovered from a long weekend bashing, the bus cover off The Rugby Championship - can anyone touch the All Blacks? Can Cheika turn it around? More domestic rugby preview, Ben Ryan, Head injury issues, gouging, an awful statue and even worse jokes, and you have a pod! Enjoy. Subscribe Acast and iTunes @RugbyPodcast on twitter See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

Belatedly for the Dec 2014 VFF. AEAE

Haaaaaapy New Yeeeaaaaarrrr! Belatedly, anyway. The BRB UK boys are back after their Chrimbo hollybobs and are moderately raring to go. This week, Dan and Tim are joined by Coleman to talk up some gaming goodness. This week's burblings feature: Jon still can't work out how Thursdays work Xbox One sells over 3 million... ...But the PlayStation 4 sells more We work out the real reason Nintendo released the 2DS PES 2015 announced for the PS4, but not the XbOne Titanfall multiplayer will be 6v6 (kinda) Michael Bay melts down at CES PlayStation Now Steam Boxes ahoy! Razer's Project Christine Don't Starve Halo: Spartan Assault Max: The Curse of Brotherhood

(Belatedly - sorry! We were out of town.)Ever been curious about how we go about our business behind the scenes at /report, or considered starting your own podcast? This is the (very) short episode for you! We talk about how we got our start, what tools we use, and tips and tricks for people who about to take the plunge.You can follow us on twitter for even more inanity during the week.

Lisa T. Bergren "Glamorous Illusions" Cook, 2012, 978-1-4347-6430-0, $14.99 The Grand Tour Series details the life of Cora Diehl Kensington, a woman of the Montana plains, swept up into a life of riches and privilege. Belatedly finding out a terrible secret about her parentage, Cora struggles to find out who she really is–as a child of God–in the midst of an enlightening, as well as dangerous, trip across Europe. www.lisatawnbergren.com