#OTD in 1968 – Champion racehorse, Arkle, is retired to see out the rest of his days in Bryanstown, Kildare.

It was a famous Irish Thoroughbred racehorse; a bay gelding by Archive out of Bright Cherry, his grandsire was the unbeaten (in 14 races) flat racehorse and prepotent sire Nearco. Arkle was bred at Ballymacoll Stud, Co Meath by Mrs. Mary Alison Baker of Malahow House, near Naul, Co Dublin. Owned by Anne Grosvenor, Duchess of Westminster, Arkle was trained by Tom Dreaper at Greenogue, Kilsallaghan…

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039: You Are What Eats You

Neopronouns: sie/sir/siris which follow the same rules as it/its/itself

Replace it with sie

Replace its with sir

Replace itself with siris

EX:

"It is going to adopt a new puppy soon, as soon as it gets a fence set up around its yard so the puppy can go outside without it having to walk it. Its uncle is going to help set up the fence, since he has a set of power tools he's letting it use, since it lost its. It's going to buy toys and train the puppy itself. "

Becomes:

"Sie is going to adopt a new puppy soon, as soon as sie gets a fence set up around sir yard so the puppy can go outside without sie having to walk it. Sir uncle is going to help set up the fence, since he has a set of power tools he's letting sie use, since sie lost sir. Sie's going to buy toys and train the puppy siris."

= = =

They say you are what eats you.

Comet could remember the last time sie'd seen sir wolf family. It had been a warm spring day, and sir light parent, Squirrel, had just returned home from a successful hunt, but moving painfully from a mysterious injury to its side.

Comet had been tumbling through the grass, chasing a cricket. Raindrop and Aurora were on the other side of the den with their dark parent, Lightning, when Squirrel appeared in the distance, trotting down the hill into their little valley.

Sie had been excited to see it, and even more excited by the food it brought, and had been about to run up to greet it.

Then a shadow had passed by overhead. Squirrel, panic clear in its voice, had barked frantically, “Get in the den!”

Comet had seen Lightning grab Raindrop, who was too weak to move on their own, with Aurora huddling under zeir legs.

Squirrel was running towards Comet, but Comet was stricken by the first real terror sie had ever felt. This was the first threat sie had ever had to face, and all sir instincts were on fire. Sie hadn't been able to think clearly - - if sie had, sie would have run for Squirrel, to shelter under its legs like sir siblings were with Lightning, or sie would have run for the den, with its dark, warm embrace offering shelter from any harm.

But panic didn't listen to reason, and instead of running towards safety, Comet had found siris heading in the exact opposite direction - - right into the middle of the clearing, where there were no trees or parents or dens to offer protection.

Comet had heard sir parents shouting sir name, then...

Sie didn't remember anything else after that, until sie found siris enclosed in a warm, dark space. It was comforting, and sie didn't know how long sie just stayed there, almost asleep, but eventually, the urge to move began to make itself known, and the next thing sie could remember clearly, there was light, the sky overhead, and sir eagle parents were cooing over sie and welcoming sie to the world.

This time, sie had no siblings. Sie was the only chick in the nest, and, high up on the mountain side, there were no predators to watch for. The only eagles that approached were sir parents, Syssorie and Kiyavali. Sir name was not Comet anymore, it was Kiyarorie.

Kiyarorie was always safe in the nest. Sie was a golden eagle now, and nothing would be brave enough to hunt sir, not when one of sir parents was close by at all times while the other left to hunt. Not even other eagles dared to encroach upon sir parent's territory, and Kiyarorie, as the only chick, was well fed and well cared for. Sie never knew a moment of hunger or want.

Eventually it was sir turn to spread sir new wings and learn to fly, and a sudden gust of wind helped speed things along more abruptly than sie would have chosen otherwise.

It was a harrowing tumble out of the nest and into the open air, but it was a long way to fall, and Kiyarorie managed to get sir wings under control quickly, turning the out of control fall into a shaky glide with only a little trouble, though sir heart was racing in sir chest.

Syssorie took to the air and flew next to sie, offering encouragement and praise, and guiding sie down to a lower point on the rocky cliff where sie landed without falling off again.

After that, it felt like everything sped by quickly, with sir mastery over sir wings and the wind growing every time sie went out into the open air.

Once sir wings were steady enough, Kiyarorie's parents took sie out on a circuit around their whole territory, showing sie what sie would need to look for when establishing sir own, showing sie how to hunt, when to know to give up.

They brought sie to an open area, with a pile of rocks emerging from the ground in the middle, and a small line of trees on one side. There was a pack of wolves dozing around the rocks.

Kiyavali tilted one of awu wings down at the pack to draw Kiyarorie's attention to it, and said, “This is where my father caught a wolf cub for me when I was almost ready for my first flight. He brought it to me as a gift. I tried to bring you one, to continue the tradition, but they're clever, and I can never get close enough now. There, you see? They've spotted us.”

Kiyarorie looked, and saw that most of the bigger wolves had gotten to their feet, and, almost hidden beneath the bigger ones, Kiyarorie could just make out the smaller bodies of wolf pups being herded back towards the rocks. To the entrance of the den.

It was a sudden shock to recognize where sie was, looking at it from so far above rather than at the ground level, but no, this was where sie had been born in sir last life. These were the rocks that hid the den, those were the trees sie had spent so often playing under, and this - -

The sound rose up, clear and physical, like a new type of wind under sir wings.

This was the howl of Squirrel, one of sir wolf parents, rising up into the sky from below, strong and bold and filled with warning.

Kiyarorie looked down, and saw the familiar shape of what had once been sir parent, standing now on top of the rocks, looking up to meet sir gaze, tail held high, confidant and angry. It thought they were here to hunt the pups that were now safely ensconced inside the den, the other bigger wolves standing at the entrance to make sure none of them came out until it was safe.

And - -

Kiyarorie had to circle back around to get another look at two of those almost-adults.

Both of them had black fur, and sie didn't recognize the coat patterns. Neither of them were Lightning, sir other wolf parent, but something about them...

And then sie realized, these were sir siblings, grown up more than sie'd ever gotten to be as a wolf. This was Raindrop and Aurora, sir siblings, standing guard over the newest members of their pack, the pack sie had been born into, but never gotten the chance to grow up in.

Squirrel howled again, and this time Raindrop and Aurora joined in. Kiyarorie couldn't hear anything sie recognized in their howls, they were nothing like the squeaky, faltering puppy-howls sie'd heard from them in sir last life.

And, behind them all in the distance, came a faint answering howl, and this one was as familiar to sie as Squirrel's. It was Lightning, sir other wolf parent, probably returning from a hunting trip.

What could Kiyarorie do to communicate who sie was? Even if sie tried to speak to them, they wouldn't understand. Golden eagles couldn't make the same sounds as a wolf, and nothing about body language would match. If sie landed to try and tell them, sie would probably be ripped to pieces, thinking sie was trying to kill the newest puppies. Sir younger siblings.

No, sie couldn't land. Couldn't call down, they wouldn't understand.

But maybe sie could bring them a gift, just as a farewell. A thank you, for everything they'd done for sie while sie was a wolf.

Kiyarorie told sir parents sie wanted to fly on sir own for a while, and, sharing a glance, they told sir to be careful, and turned to head back to the nest. The sun would be starting to set soon, and the lighting would be too dim to see by.

This would be Kiyarorie's first hunt on sir own, and sie was going to dedicate it to sir past life.

The hare sie found an hour later stood out strongly against the grass, still holding onto its white winter coat long past when it should have shed it. Kiyarorie hit it dead-on, and killed it before sie was even in the air again, carrying it in sir talons. It probably hadn't even known it was in danger.

Sie carried sir kill back to the last home sie'd had, and made sure to call out before sie got too close, so they'd have warning. Squirrel, as before, was the first to spot sie, and it whuffed a sharp warning. Again, the cubs ran for the den, with bigger wolves running to fetch those further away, and standing over the entrance to protect them. Lightning was here this time, and Kiyarorie could feel zeir eyes burning into sir feathers as sie spiraled slowly overhead, still clutching the hare.

Knowing they didn't understand the words, but wanting to say them anyways, Kiyarorie waited until all the the pups were safely in the den, then called down, “I know you don't understand me, but I wanted to thank you. I wanted to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was taken from you, but I'm so glad Raindrop and Aurora survived. I hope my new siblings grow up to be just as strong and brave as you are, my first parents.”

Sie circled lower, still making sure to keep a safe distance above Lightning, who had taken the spot on the top of the rock pile this time. Kiyarorie hadn't had time to learn how high wolves could jump, but sie was not going to find out the hard way.

Once sie was low enough that sir next move would be unmistakable in its purposefulness, sie turned to fly over the area in front of the den, and dropped the dead hare.

It landed with a thud a wingspan in front of Squirrel, who only took its eyes off of Kiyarorie long enough to track the hare's fall. When it looked back up at sie, its expression had lost some of its fierceness, and gained some puzzlement in its place.

Squirrel tilted its head to one side, and its tail, before held straight up, was allowed to wave from side to side, almost questioningly.

Kiyarorie didn't know how to respond in any way sir old parent would understand, so sie simply called out again, “I hope it helps.” and made sure that when sie angled sir wings again, it was with the clear purpose of flying straight away in a direction sir old family would be able to see in, so they would know it wasn't a trap.

By the time sie got back to the nest, the sun had almost completely set, burning the sky orange above the horizon. Sie had caught another hare to share with sir parents, and after eating it, Kiyarorie fell asleep in the nest next to sir parents, knowing that soon enough, it would be sir turn to fly off on sir own to establish sir own territory and find sir own mate.

But for now, sleep called, and all sie had to do was dream of running on all fours as a wolf, then spreading sir golden wings and jumping up to play in the wind as seamlessly as breathing.

039, a dressing room after a big performance. / annie + ricky

scene of the crime !    ╱    CURRENTLY ACCEPTING

annie could still hear the roar of the crowd as she ventured through the backstage area to the dressing room. this venue was bigger than preservation hall and they’d completely sold it out! not bad for the final show of this leg of the tour. though, they’d surely be back on the road again soon, ricky had told her in a recent letter. for annie, it all felt very... important. her name was put on a list, she had to wear a pass granting her access backstage. she even got to watch their encore from the wings! this was the first time she had been able to hear ricky and the somernites live and just not on her record player or on her car radio. they were amazing, of course! butricky had a voice you couldn't quite put into words. each song made her heart race and her face hot. it was similar to the giddy feeling she'd get when a letter addressed to her from him would show up in the little red mailbox at home. speaking of letters, it had been just about nine months since the two agreed to keep in touch after the band’s unexpected stop at a mechanic’s home in gainsville. their letters (which were essentially weekly by this point) had gotten more personal, more… intimate. months and months of things she had never told anyone else. (and vice versa, it seems) with each letter, her feelings for him had grown and were much harder to ignore. well, the feeling seemed to be mutual for her and every other teen girl in america. the somernites were on their way to becoming the next big thing! their songs were on the radio more frequently, their faces were in magazines! not that any of that stuff mattered to annie. after all, she was just excited to see her new friend after so long. and she would be more than content if that was all they were destined to be… friends.

annie waits patiently outside the dressing room door holding tight to the bouquet of flowers she’d gone back and forth about bringing in the first place. once the door finally opens and ricky’s standing on the other side of it, all the girl could do was beam at him. “ hi ! ” her voice shooting up an octave from excitement. " i — i know girls don't usually give boys flowers. " annie’s cheeks glow red as the bouquet is presented to him, " but, i wasn't really sure what else to get ‘ya to say congratulations. " 

Ingraham: Biden's race to the bottom

Ingraham: Biden's race to the bottom

Ingraham: Biden's race to the bottom Category News & Politics Description: Laura Ingraham takes an indepth look at President Biden’s most ‘radical’ executive orders. #FoxNews #Ingraham Subscribe to Fox News! https://bit.ly/2vBUvAS … TopTrengingTV Hunting the most trend video of the moment, every hour every day 24/7. Youtube Video Data Published At: 2021-01-27T05:45:00Z   Tags: …

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Kristen Bell will no longer voice a mixed-race character on 'Central Park'

Kristen Bell will no longer voice a mixed-race character on ‘Central Park’

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Bell, a White actress beloved for playing Anna in the “Frozen” film franchise, voices Molly on the animated musical comedy about the Tillermans, a family that lives in Central Park. Her departure is one of the latest examples of the racial reckoning happening in Hollywood and around the world following the death in Minneapolis police custody of George Floyd.

“This is a time to…

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Kristen Bell will no longer voice a mixed-race character on 'Central Park' Bell, a White actress beloved for playing Anna in the "Frozen" film franchise, voices Molly on the animated musical comedy about the Tillermans, a family that lives in Central Park.

Frontman x Reader | Squid Game

***

Warnings: Mentions of blood, death, violence, guns

Writers note: Hope yall enjoy! I'm not sure if I'll continue this but will see! English isn't my main language.

***

You were in the bathroom when another contestant attacked you.

You didn't have time to react, as she attacked right when you came out of the stall. She had smuggled a pocket knife in and stabbed your side with it. You let out surprised scream, but she quickly covered your mouth so guards wouldn't hear and interfere.

She giggled on your ear maniacally. You were frozen in fear, but something in you told you to fight, you couldn't end here, not when you had came so far.

So you did the only thing you could imagine in the moment, you stompt your leg on her leg and pushed her in the stomach with your elbow. She wasn't prepared for that so she let go of the knife and fell backwards.

You backed away from her trying to hold yourself together. Your attacker was furious about your resistance. She propably thought you'd fall easily.

Until now you had stayed in the back, out of everyones sight so you wouldn't get targeted. But seems like that was the thing that got you targeted. People thought you were weak. And in some way you were, but you never gave up. You may die here, but you wont go easily.

You turned around to run from the room, but got tackled by her.

You landed on your stomach and let pained voice out when the knife moved inside you.

Her hand was on your leg and she crawled on top of you, breathing heavily. Her copper colored, curled hair was in your face, so you could barely see.

She started strangling you from behind. Your mind raced, what to do, how to survive. You felt your conscious slipping as you couldn't breathe.

The pain on your side, where the knife was, was only thing keeping you awake. The knife!

You reached out to it and bite your teeth together. This would hurt.

With fast swing you pulled out the knife from you and stabbed her back with it. She screamed in pain as you pushed her to the side.

With pure adrenaline you scrambled up and to the exit door. Opening the door with force you could hear loud thump. Oh shit.

You didn't have time to stay and look what happened, but you guessed the door hit the pink soldier.

You started heading to the left side, following the hallway.

You were limping and leaning to the wall for support. Bloody handprints were left on it.

You heard another thump and looked behind you. First you saw pink suited soldier laying on the floor unconscious, then your eyes went up and you saw your attacker.

She was holding her bleeding side as her body was shaking in rage, she looked like she wanted to kill you. Which she did want.

You barely noticed the number on her chest, which was buried in blood, 039. She was known for being aggressive and enjoying killing, she would do anything to secure her kill.

Your eyes widened when she started running towards you the knife in hand again.

You turned around and fastened your pace. You had to find another soldier or you would be done for. Where the heck were they when needed?!

You were out of breath, but you had to continue limping forward. Step by step, she got closer to you. Sweat was running down on your forehead, this was it, huh?

You turned around the corner and bumped into someone. That someone wrapped his hands around you protectively so you wouldn't fall. Your face was on their chest, seeing only black.

You were shaken. You didn't have the courage to look up, since you didn't know if you just walked into safety or even worse situation.

You didn't get to think for long when you heard a gasp behind you. 

You breathed heavily and tried to step out from the embrace, ready to apologise and try to run again. But you felt resistance when trying to pull away. The person holding you wasn't letting you go. Why?

Curiousity killed the cat, you slowly looked up, only to meet mask as black as the chest was.

The eyes of the mask was glued on you and even if you couldn't see his eyes, you couldn't look away.

Your mouth was slightly open, you couldn't get a word out.

Then you heard the attacker scream again and her charging towards you, she was determined to kill you.

You instinctively closed your eyes, there was no running now. If you died now, atleast you tried.

BANG!

You were so used to gun sounds by now, you didn't even flinch, just stood still.

You didn't feel like shot, so you assumed the attacker was shot instead. But hell no, you weren't going to open your eyes to verify it.

You let out surprised breath when you felt leather hand softly stroke your cheek.

His another hand was supporting your back so you wouldn't collapse. Which you would had unless the masked man didn't hold you.

Slowly you opened your eyes again to meet the black gaze. You looked each other for what felt like hours, but was propably only for a few seconds.

Breaking the eye contact you turned around to look at your attacker.

Your eyes widened sligthly when you saw her dead on the floor. She had been shot on the head.

And then you saw silver pistol laying on the floor next to you. You regocnised it to be Colt, as you had some knowledge about weapons from your father, who loved to collect them. Sadly his love for guns was what killed him.

The mysterious man had shot your attacker. But why didn't he shoot you too, but dropped the gun to caress your cheek?

Million questions were in your head, but they got cut when the sharp pain on your side returned.

You let out pained voice and your body gave up.

You would had been on floor now if it wasnt for the masked man. He was now holding you with both hands.

He took you in his arms in bridal style. You didn't have the strength to complain, so instead you let him carry you.

You had no idea where he would take you, but it didn't matter now. The black mask slowly melt in the darkness as you lost your consciousness.

***

Everything welt groggy as you regained your consciousness. You weren't sure if you were alive or not.

The grogginess started to fade away as you were more awaken. You felt something soft around you.

You didn't want to open your eyes, you really wanted to sleep some more and the darkness felt comforting.

Until you heard something move. Your body went still. Suddenly all that happened earlier rushed to your mind.

You were too afraid to open your eyes. So you pretended to be asleep when you heard slow steps come closer.

You desperately hoped they didn't notice you're awake. You forced your body to relax with slow breathing.

You felt someones eyes on you, was it the black masked man that had saved you?

You were sure they would sent you back to the sick games, if you let them know you were awake.

You knew you had to eventually go back, but you just needed a moment to rest.

Gladly you heard the steps go away from you and a sound of opening door were heard.

It took a moment before it was closed again, the person looking at you for a moment before leaving.

You had been holding your breath for the last 20 seconds, you hadn't even noticed it until you had to take a breath.

You waited for few minutes before opening your right eye just enough to see if you were truly alone. You couldn't see anyone so you felt safe enough to open your eyes fully.

Great, now you could see where you were.

It was surprising, the room wasn't anything like you had seen before in the games or the room all players were left in.

No, this room was dark and cozy.

The walls were covered in black, in the matter of fact, almost everything in the room was black. The bed and a cabinet in front of it were very dark brown wood.

The room didn't have any windows. Only light source was yellowish lamp, which gave the room warm feeling.

This was definitely black masked mans room, there was no doubt.

You tried to get up, but felt sharp pain on your side. Oh right you were stabbed by that maniac lady, number 039.

You tried to keep your voice down in case someone was outside of the room and could hear you.

You moved the soft blankets enough to see your injury. Then you realised you were in clean clothes. It was same as your game clothes, but without blood or number tag. You checked the stab found, it was covered in bandages.

You welt relieved, but also bit disturbed. Why would they treat your injury when you would die anyway in the upcoming games?

You were honestly surprised you had even made it this far.

It was mostly luck and your strongheaded nature. But your strongheadedness was the reason what led you in to agreeing to these sick games for large sum of money and your freedom.

You covered your eyes with your arm and let out a sight. It didn't help to think about why you were here when you had to think how to get out of here alive.

Then an image of the black mask flashed before your closed eyes.

Hurriedly you moved your arm and opened your eyes.

Your heart was racing of the thought of him looking at you intensively, his other hand caressing your face and other firmly on your back. Shit.

Now you couldn't think anything else than that mask and those protecting hands that kept you safe.

Something in that man made you feel so safe, you didn't know why. You had this weird feeling that he wouldn't hurt you, which was ridiculous of you to even think about.

He clearly was someone to be feared, someone with power. But maybe that was what made you feel safe with him.

With that thought you continued to look at the room.

On your right side you saw a table with nothing else than a glass of water in it. Or you hoped it was water, because your throath felt dry and you really needed to drink.

With lot of effort you got up enough to get the glass. You brought it to your lips and drank it in seconds. You started feeling better and smiled.

Setting the glass back you started to feel sleepy again. You didn't know if it was the water containing something in it, or you not getting to sleep well the last week.

You felt safe enough to go back down and close your eyes, going back to the much needed sleep.

SPARTAN - 039

1347 HOURS, FEBRUARY 11, 2567 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \  DELTA CORVI SYSTEM, UNCHARTED SURFACE POSITION, CORVUS III

The thudded crackling echo of the BR55 Heavy Barrel Service Rifle’s three round burst tore through the densely populated forest. SPARTAN - 039 readjusted his aim and fired again. Three high-powered rounds, on target, bore violently into the towering alien’s right eye. A hulking beast of tight leathery muscle, resembling the pterosaurs of the ancient Jurassic, had ambushed the SPARTAN in the middle of a reconnaissance mission. Now they were locked in a battle for survival. 039’s heavy boots crushed the thick shrubbery below as he ran diagonally right from the alien’s position - cutting off the enemy’s move to reposition. He fired two more consecutive bursts from the battle rifle, but the rounds did little in the way of damaging the surprisingly tough hide of the creature.

: “Achelois, got anything on this guy?” : The SPARTAN asked with a measured voice. :: “If I knew anything, don’t you think I would have mentioned it by now?” :: The AI’s usual stale tone filtered through on the SPARTAN’s inner comm system.

He grit his teeth, stopped and planted his feet firmly. Instinctively the battle rifle had already been drawn up and ready to fire, but before he could squeeze the trigger the Neo Dino drew its tattered wings forward with tremendous force and speed. The weapon fired only for the bullets to be embedded in the thick webbing of the right wing. Broken branches and debris - ripped free by the torrential gust - came hurtling toward 039 and bounced cleanly off of his own sturdy build. He had failed, however, to notice that the beast hadn’t done this to protect itself but instead to distract him. 

From around the tree nearest to his left came the massive spear-pointed end of its monstrous tail. Even with his super enhanced reaction speed - it was too late. Almost immediately the dull point crashed into his left side, just above the hip. Comparable almost to the force of a bundle of frags going off all at once - the blow tossed the half ton of Isaac’s, modified MJOLNIR Mk VI Armor encased, body like a play thing and through a handful of heavy trees.

Approximately eleven meters from where he had been standing the SPARTAN - II supersoldier found himself splayed out and sunken into the fertile ground of Corvus III. Without a moment’s rest his foe was already falling upon him. The Neo Dino hung in the air, head drawn back and a fiery light soon escaped from the gaps in its terrifying mouth. No doubt charging the same nova-like bomb which had begun their encounter. That first blast had momentarily drained his suit’s energy shields and left his armor charred entirely black.

:: “Now would be a good time to move, dammit.” :: Achelois’ words still came in that stale tone, but he could tell they were filled with a venomous spite.

He hadn’t needed Achelois’ words of ‘encouragement’ though; already he scrambled to his feet knowing another big hit like that and he was done, and SPARTAN’s were never done. The battle rifle was no longer in his hands and nowhere to be seen, but he couldn’t think about that, and at this point it didn’t even matter. Racing out in a full on sprint he closed the distance between them in a second. Directly below the giant now he kept his body moving dead on, aiming for the large boulder cluster just ahead.

039 jumped, propelling himself with all the power the Mk VI armor could output. The Neo Dino was quick and it was smart; calculating for the SPARTAN’s break for safety it launched the nova directly below itself an instant before he took to the air. As the fiery sphere of explosive energy touched down it easily ate through the heavy green vegetation. It erupted leaving only destruction in its wake, felling even the oldest trees in a five meter radius, but this fight was still far from over.

:: “You’ll have to get in close if you want to kill that thing.” :: The AI offered resentfully. :: “Fighting from range didn’t do us any good.” ::

: “Yeah…” :

Crouched down against the other side of the boulders, he had managed to reach safety - only the armored plates on the back of his legs had received minimal damage. However, he had over-strained his body after subjecting it to the full power of the MJOLNIR so unexpectedly, and in turn he had suffered two minor fractures to the femur of his right leg. The injuries came up on the Heads-Up-Display, on his helmet’s visor, for him to inspect. With a simple thought he pushed the medical reports aside and the layer of hydrostatic gel, in his suit, tightened around the injured area forming a temporary brace.

A gauge at the top right of the HUD blinked and quickly filled, indicating his shields had replenished after being depleted by the hit which had sent him flying. Reaching for the secondary weapon mounted firmly to his back the SPARTAN moved to reposition around the rocks before his enemy came looking. Gripping the M90 Close Assault Weapon System (CAWS), a UNSC issue shotgun with immense stopping power, he knew what he’d have to do to take down the overgrown bird. He came around into the newly made clearing of smoldering ash and dirt; already facing him the alien stood as if it had been waiting. It seemed to challenge him as it belted out a shrill but guttural roar.

:: “I’ll watch for the tail, so go and take care of this thing, Isaac.” ::

He appreciated hearing the first helpful thing out of the AI, today, but the way she had used his name - it felt almost like he was being reprimanded. His muscles tensed, and before the other could make a move he charged into the fray. In an instant he was well within the M90’s most effective range and fired a three shot barrage of .35 caliber pellets. This time his assault proved effective. The pellets tore through the flesh of the enemy’s chest inflicting large gaping wounds.

The Neo Dino was obviously surprised by the SPARTAN’s upgrade in firepower. Its gushing wounds caused it to let out a feral shriek as it briefly withdrew from the pain. Trying to keep the SPARTAN from closing in he lashed out, clawing wildly with his large muscular forearms, but the armored soldier maintained its push forward - able to dodge most of the attacks and deflect the rest. 039 had come within a meter of his target that were the exposed wounds, inside of the alien’s defenses, and was about to loose another three shot volley, but as the barrel of the M90 became level the giant leapt into the air - its wings flapping carrying it further up.

Isaac took four shots at the creature as it ascended leaving him below. The first nearly exploded the monster’s abdomen, the grouping of the pellets being almost solid at close range. Blood, flesh and intestine splashed out and onto the ashen ground and his blackened armor. The pellets of the following shots fanned out leaving minor wounds across its legs and the base of the tail. The creature continued upward, further and further until he had to use his visor’s magnification view to see it.

This wasn’t the end though; he was sure of it, and so was Achelois as she urged him to stay on guard. He retreated into the forest, headed toward the gorge where this had all began. The density of the trees and the canopy of vines and branches would make being tracked by that thing difficult while he was left with no such disadvantage; the sensory technology and equipment housed in MJOLNIR kept track of the Neo Dino at all times - showing it as tiny red silhouette on a sonar type display on the bottom left corner of the HUD.

:: “I’ve pinged the ‘mongoose’. We’re one hundred thirty-eight meters out. :: Achelois paused then started again. :: “Tell me you’ve got a plan.” ::

: “Laser.” : Isaac said simply.

:: “You’ll only have one shot, you know.” :: She condescended.

There was no reply from 039; he only increased his pace moving as fast as he could through the dense woods. If he could get his hands on the M6 Grindell/Galilean Nonlinear Rifle, affectionately called the Spartan Laser, he could end that thing with one shot. All he needed was one shot, but that was also all he had. If he butchered it there would be no time to recycle the battery, and chances were things would get ugly all over again. 1349 Hours showed on the HUD. He had been in a firefight with that beast for seventeen long minutes. They both had suffered a number of injuries, but the worst of it was that Isaac wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up such an intensive fight - something he could never admit to himself.

Harsh light filtered in onto the forest undergrowth from the edge of the woods that was fast approaching. The M274 Ultra-Light All-Terrain Vehicle (Mongoose) was stationed out at the cliff edge of the gorge - about thirty-three meters from the treeline. The beast had definitely followed him all the way here, guided by sound perhaps, but he was betting on it not having a fix on his exact position. Isaac had learned from the start of this that the monster was too dangerous to take on in open spaces where it could fly freely.

039 crossed the threshold into the open, not stopping for a second. He kept moving forward; the mongoose was in sight and the Spartan Laser mounted to the rear seat was almost in reach. He noticed then the red silhouette, marking his enemy, had slipped away and disappeared. There was no chance the beast had run away, but it had flown well beyond the range of his equipment. This didn’t change the plan.

Mounted on his shoulder the Spartan Laser let out a whining drone which only grew louder, increasing in pitch as the weapon built up its charge. Not a second later the creature’s silhouette appeared from the opposite direction as it had disappeared. 039 spun instantly to face it. It came in low, tracing the cliff edge, moving faster than ever before. It reached supersonic speeds and would be on him in a handful of seconds, but that wouldn’t matter - the Spartan Laser was ready to fire now.

:: “ABOVE!” :: The AI exclaimed with what seemed like genuine fear. Isaac had no time to think; he reacted solely on instinct - the instinct which had kept him alive all these years. At the sound of Achelois’ sudden warning he forced every fiber in his body to move, throwing himself up and over the mongoose and into the gorge. The immediate jolt threw the Spartan Laser off center; the red hot plasma-like beam erupted from the barrel. Instead of striking the monster directly the beam cleanly eliminated its left wing.

: “Damn it.” : He said under his breath, but as he fell the threat from above was revealed to him. Another of those explosive spheres, only this time several times larger, came shooting down toward where he had been. Releasing the Spartan Laser, he crossed his arms in front of him bracing for the impact.

Massive chunks of stone exploded into the air breaking into hundreds of smaller pieces. Dirt, sand and pulverized stone burst out into a solid cloud. The following shock wave slammed into the falling SPARTAN hurtling him down faster. Countless bits of debris showered 039 draining his energy shields in seconds.

:: “Incoming!” :: Achelois alerted him.

Before the SPARTAN could respond, the Neo Dino’s gnashing beak broke through the thick suffocating cloud. Its one remaining wing pulled back it dove rapidly, and in an instant the talons of its right hand were wrapped around him. The grip was incredibly tight and Isaac struggled to free his arms from the hold. Together they glided down the length of the gorge.

A massive opening was built into the cliff-face, an entrance to an ancient Forerunner installation and the objective of 039’s reconnaissance mission. It seemed this thing had also come for the installation. As they got near the beast flung out its hand as to throw the SPARTAN into the recesses of the opening, but Isaac had succeeded in forcing one arm free. Taking the combat knife attached to his left breastplate he drove the twenty-four centimeter blade into the monster’s wrist.

Free from the overpowering grasp 039 climbed quickly up onto the shoulders of the alien beast which flailed in hopes of bucking him off. It was time for this bird to die. Isaac took the combat knife and savagely drove it into the creature’s remaining eye. Unable to see, the beast lost control of itself and crashed into the metallic slabs which made up the entrance of the Forerunner installation.

Shrieking cries of frustration, fear, rage and pain echoed horrifically in the cavernous space. Isaac, who had ended up on top after they hit the ground, carefully walked over to the giant’s head. Its beak fully opened as the never ending wailing continued. An armored boot came crashing down on the left side hinge of the lower jaw. Muscle shredded as bone snapped and splintered under the stomping force of the SPARTAN.

Keeping the head pinned with his boot Isaac took hold of the lower beak - gripping tightly with both hands. He jerked quickly, once, up and away. The sinew of tendons audibly popped as the SPARTAN ripped the lower beak away. The only sound coming from the beast now was a frantic gurgling as blood pooled in its throat. With the beak thrown aside Isaac took the M6G pistol magnetically mounted to his right thigh and brought it up to the back of the monster’s throat aimed up into the brain case - he pulled the trigger firing the weapon ten times ensuring the brain would be obliterated.

The clang of the last spent casing dropping to the metallic floor, and scattering along, hung in the air as it was met with an uneasy silence. 039 slumped backwards and dropped to his left knee. Exhaustion cascaded over him in waves; the reading of his own vitals were all flashing ‘DANGER’ in his HUD, but they went unattended. A sharp piercing pain radiated through his right leg. Both of the fractures had developed into full breaks after he had stomped through the alien’s jaw. He was in poor condition, but he would live. : “Not today…” : He let out, with a deeply drawn sigh, in celebration of another victory.

#OTD in 1968 – Champion racehorse, Arkle, is retired to see out the rest of his days in Bryanstown, Kildare.

#OTD in 1968 – Champion racehorse, Arkle, is retired to see out the rest of his days in Bryanstown, Kildare.

It was a famous Irish Thoroughbred racehorse; a bay gelding by Archive out of Bright Cherry, his grandsire was the unbeaten (in 14 races) flat racehorse and prepotent sire Nearco. Arkle was bred at Ballymacoll Stud, Co Meath by Mrs. Mary Alison Baker of Malahow House, near Naul, Co Dublin. Owned by Anne Grosvenor, Duchess of Westminster, Arkle was trained by Tom Dreaper at Greenogue, Kilsallaghan…

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[B]’s Age: An Analysis ♰

Though B's age is never stated in canon material, the prevailing belief is that he is an adult in 2002. This is based Naomi’s first encounter with him [038-039 EN] under his Rue persona, describing him as a young man that is fairly tall. 

But, is it possible to make an guesstimate B’s age?

This considers his [1] physical attributes as described in DNAN, the potential for his age to be predicted by  [2] patterns within the LABB case itself, and predictors for when L became L to generate  [3] the first generation…

♰    — — Rue’s Attributes: — —    ♰

It is possible for B to have been younger or older than the age Naomi (then 26) perceived him as? -- It would be easy to assume, based on Naomi’s assessment, he must be older than an early teenager - probably in the later or final stages of puberty (16+)... However, B is under disguise and the extent of that disguise is not truly known.

♰  His Appearance:  The reader is lead from the point of introduction to draw parallels between B's appearance and L's.  Naomi herself has nothing to make the comparison with given that she has never met L. Despite meeting L in the final chapter of DN:AN, it states she thought she never met L [051]. With L being secretive and reclusive, he is the only one in the story (besides perhaps our narrator) that can appreciate the similarities and perhaps he does -- Upon their 2nd call, Naomi having just met the mysterious Rue, L make a rather odd inquiry, "Was he cool?" [055] This scene is most likely intended to inject some humor and not actually provide useful information. But to have him ask something like this leads one to assume that L indeed saw these similarities (the potential cameras at the crime scenes, is a subject for another post but statements made at scene 4 make it very likely). Though the fact that L could recognize their similaries is good evidence that he probably looked like a strange 20-something year old man... To whatever extend B resembles L, when Naomi encounters L in the subway, she does feel a sense of familiarity but does not seem to see them as remarkably identical. [172]  Her assessment of L can be summed up as a realization of how phony Rue looked in comparison.

♰  His Height: Naomi seems to see this person is fairly tall, though about 2 heads shorter due to his slouch. But, it is not stated if he is wearing shoes --even his height is not completely beyond question

♰  His voice: Naomi made no comment on his voice when he is caught off guard ( abruptly stepped on [119] and screaming in pain [152] ) this may be reliable indicator that he is at least not faking his voice and perhaps beyond puberty -- but that's based on what isn't rather than what is.

♰  Age restricted activities: Some also look to his ability to drive as an indication of age - specifically, license eligibility. Traveling from Winchester to LA, to acquire his multiple 'lairs' [095], and ultimately his placement in prison. But with Wammy's not knowing his name [117] he doesn't have an identity that exists on record -- essentially, if he does have identifying documents, the information wasn't necessarily accurate.

But, we can draw on other information.

♰    — — Patterns in the LABB Case — —    ♰

Within the case B constructed and even within the date of this death, there are 13’s everywhere.

The days that the victims are to die make a single B, the months make a single L (July) or BB (August). Notice that DNAN ends on ch.7 with an L as the cover and that volume 7 is L upside down… 7, an upside down L.

The day upon which Beyond dies, both the day and month together make a single B.

The pattern of days – 9 days, 4 days, 9 days , 9 days – make a 13 and then total to make a 31.

Even the ages of the victims first begin with 44 (1+3 1+3) then 13, then 28 which is in the middle of the previous 2.

… The only factor that does not go cleanly into a 13 is that middle age 28,     28 could be read as 2  4 + 4 —>  2   1+3 1+3

If we speculate that the ages have a pattern that would lead to 13 then 28 needs something to complete it. 

Could 28 add up to another 13, if we used the next age (B’s age) ?

Since Beyond is not going to be laying face down at death, and does not have the initials QQ, we can assume he is an adult (based on the patterned of the other victims).    That means we have these possibilities:  20, 29, 33

Which best fits?

Each has potential though it is 20 and 33 that fit best,

20 allows us to get to 4 – B is the 4th victim and 4 is very special because it not only is 1+3 but it sounds like death (死). It also allows for us to continue the pattern that this age will be between the previous two victims ages.

33 allows us to get two 13s which completes the pattern of the adults having two 13s and the one child having only one.

The ages added up – 105, 114, 108 could be read as dates: 

1/5 || 10/5 ,  1/14 || 11/14 , 1/8  || 10/8   --- These dates could be factored into something significant though that could be too much speculation…

[20] 1/5 || 10/5 – The day L looks over the FBI agents deaths in videos – 1 month before L’s death, 2 months before Mello leaves Wammy’s – If flipped you get May 1, the month B runs away – If flipped to get May 10th and assume B runs away on this day, then we get 620 days until his death (62 = 31 + 31).

[29] 1/14 || 11/14 – 0 nothing – A day before Light takes over as 'L’ – four days after Mello’s name is revealed and he blows up his base

[33] 1/8  || 10/8 – The Yagamis are put under L’s surveillance – Matsuda fakes his death – NPA director is abducted by Mello’s Mafia members

♰    — — The First Generation — —    ♰

B was brought into Wammy's at an unknown age but, given that Wammy's did not know his name [117], his identity was probably discarded because he was an experimental successor for L. --- he was brought with that purpose in mind.

---- This is important because it means he probably wasn't brought in until L became L, the detective.

It is worth noting that in L: Change the World (Novel), mentions DNAN and is credited to “M”.  It states, “...Only one serving a purpose above all others, gathering particularly intelligent children regardless of nationality, race, or gender -- The Wammys House. Not serving as a formal academic institution, Wammy's House invites professors, researchers, and specialists from around the world to give the chilkdren instruction befitting their abilities and potentials. The ultimate purpose of these child is to serve as safe gaurds of the world."  [013]  From this, we can gather that these children must not arrive with identities, because obviously their peers and instructors would remember these true names, if they were later selected to become a letter (K in this novel only learns she has earned her letter years after running away at 16 and her name is not the factor that clues L into who she is and her history, coming from Wammys House. This means they probably did not have a record of her name, or L during his confrontation with her would have already known who she is. Additionally, this might explain why Matt also doesn’t seem to have a name on official files. Volume 8 also states the same that DNAN does, that Wammy’s does not know the names of these children.

One thing worth mentioning in regards to true-names that can be  written in the death note, is that it does NOT need to be legal or official or name designated at birth. In "Death Note: New Generation" Episode 3, a new Kira is trying and fails to kill the murderer of a 7 year old child. This person's legal, documented, birth-name is not their true name. This is because this person is trying to leave that part of their past behind and has taken on a new name, this is a name that they identity with, not the name that is legally documented for them.  This former killer, has changed their surname and it is only by using this undocumented surname that Kira is able to kill them.

This means that when B entered Wammy’s, he not only had no documented name but also if he did rename himself, it could become his true name -- regardless of any formal documentation, legal identity, or given birth name that had existed.

DN:AN & L: FILE № 15 offer a general idea of when that occurred.

Mello was originally going to talk about 3 stories: (1) LABB, (2) Watari meeting L, and (3) the bioterror case in which L obtained the code names of Eraldo Coil and Deneuve. (X, Y, and Z making a guest appearance). [170] 

►   “...そして世界一の発明家キルシュ・ワイミーことワタリと、 当時推定八歳のLとの出会いー世紀の名探偵L誕生の きっかけとなった、第三次世界大戦をすんでのところで ��い止めたウィンチェスター爆弾魔事件についての、詳 細記述を続けようと思っていたのだが、それだけの容量 は、どう楽観的に見積もっても、残っていないようだ...”

There is a line following Mello describing Watari and L meeting, suggesting that L becoming the greatest detective and the Winchester case would be part of the story but not the story [ Roughly: “... meeting the estimated 8 year old L --- I was thinking of going into detail...”  -on L becoming the greatest detective and the Winchester bomb case that stopped WWIII.]  It is a matter of how you want to read it, it could be read ‘they meet -- these are a few events that happened in the recent time of their knowing each other’ or ‘they meet -- these are the events of that meeting’.  However, despite 8 being an estimation and the uncertainty of where L’s birth as the greatest detective lands, is where we begin the timeline.

★ Note: It is worth pointing out this might be contradiction with the 2-chapter manga in "L: FILE № 15" [JNP&EN Ch.2] seems to imply that L discovered his investigative passions a while after his discovery by Watari.

Between age 8 (1987) and death (2004), 4 generations of successors begin. One evenly divide up the generations temporarily but there is nothing suggesting they were separated by equal measures of time. It also wouldn't help place B, since he is in the first generation -- by default will be towards the beginning (1987+)

B's true age is indeterminable but we can assume:

-- He is a child in 1987 (referred to as the 2nd child)

-- He is a young man in 2002 ( based on Naomi's description)

-- He is at least 5+ in 1987

★  Why at least 5 years old?

He is aware of when his parents death's are to occur. Assuming B has access to an ordinary education before his induction into Wammy's, the numerical symbols had meaning and were not just a set of lines and curves. He also knew how to apply them mathematically. Children begin to learn these things around this age so 5+, so it would be reasonable.

In addition, Wammy's could have been his first introduction to Roman (Latin) symbols (A, B, C) -- this he may have been the time he connected the similarity between 13 and B. And that L being the 12th symbol is < 13.

Plans for successorship probably did not begin immediately after L’s first case at around age 8 - not until L became L, the detective -- having become so important that they needed backups. So, assuming it began a few years after:

L is 22 going on 23 in DN:AN. Mello states he solved over 3,500 cases [010] , considerable given that there was only 25 years between the first case and death. Assuming he was solving them at such a fast rate (~140/yr), he could have been only 9 or 10 at the time they began experimenting with successors.

Potential Age Ranges:

★ Note: This also allows B to have obtained the akazukin chacha manga as it was serialized (~1991-2000) as he boasts that he had. It may make more sense why he started reading them – he was a young child. (7-12)

[Additional point brought up by @extrxmegxnius ]:

B also claims to have watched the anime which was broadcast in Japan from 1994-1995 then in other countries in 1998 (Philippines, China, and some other countries in Southeast Asia). So, either B would have had to request copies of these episodes or he would have been in one of these areas where it was broadcast. 

One could estimate him to be older. Though successors (with appearances) that could have been part of the first generation have no known ages.. A few appear to be around the same age as L -- one being stated as the first of their letter and could be part of the 1st gen (K).

In conclusion: Though B's age is indeterminable, evidence supports that B was a young adult in 2002,  a child in 1989, and was at least 5 when he arrived at Wammy's house sometime after 1989.

Blogging: Saya mengikut rentak saya

Blogging: Saya mengikut rentak saya

Blogging: Saya mengikut rentak saya (Terjemahan Google untuk Blogging: I run my race) Blogging seperti berjalan tetapi menjalankan perlumbaan? Saya berhenti seketika, saya berpeluh, kaki terbuka, mengeluh, dan menonton orang lain ... melangkau ke hadapan. Jane Trombley menanya tentang kekurangan blogger 'baby-boomer' dan 'suara' generasinya. A counselor berpendapat bahawa blog memberi manfaat…

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SOUND EXPERIMENTS – SESSION 5:  U-HE | DIVA

This time I'd like to show you "Diva" by U-He, which emulates modules from the synthesizer classics Minimoog, Jupiter, Juno and MS20. U-He added some additional features to their soft synth such as internal effects, an arpeggiator, extended control over the voicing and much more.

CHAPTERS LIST:

00:00:00  Intro 

1 – THE LUNA PARK [001]   00:00:20   Into the crowd [002]   00:03:16   Hall of mirrors [003]   00:05:48   Carousel [004]   00:07:49   Haunted House [005]   00:10:45   Standing in the line [006]   00:11:32   The Water Ride / amusement arcade [007]   00:12:52   Exploring / the narrow-gauge railway [008]   00:15:32   passing many attractions / stop at the roller coaster [009]   00:19:16   loop-the-loop / ups and downs [010]   00:22:13   Delighted / the centrifuge [011]   00:25:57   The kart race [012]   00:28:05   Hotdogs and candyfloss [013]   00:29:40   Space Shuttle [014]   00:31:17   An uplifting attraction / dangeling at a dizzying height [015]   00:32:52   An oriental tent / the fortune teller 

2 – THE DESERT [016]   00:34:34   Torches in a dimmed ambience / Master Deyasle appears [017]   00:35:38   The master's special herbs / smoke fills the room [018]   00:38:18   Taking off with a carpet / a speedy ride [019]   00:39:22   Above yellow sand and under hot sun [020]   00:40:58   Landing in an ancient egyptian town / the pharaoh's palace [021]   00:43:06   Patrolling guards [022]   00:44:42   Dusk over sand dunes / a night under a starry sky [023]   00:46:50   A sandstorm accompanies the sunrise / Seth goes wild [024]   00:51:38   Shelter in a pyramid / dark corridors [025]   00:54:18   Treasury / intoxicated by greed [026]   00:58:02   Let go / leaving the pyramid [027]   01:00:42   A far way through the desert / no more water [028]   01:03:22   A dried citadel / moving on [029]   01:06:02   Burning heat / getting unconscious [030]   01:08:10   Waking up in the oriental tent / dizzy 

3 – DR. MEINHOLD'S FREAK SHOW [031]   01:08:49   Moving along / a weird attraction [032]   01:11:29   Entering / the two-headed dog and its puppies [033]   01:13:37   The malformed music band with moderate talent [034]   01:19:29   Entering the second floor via old wooden stairs [035]   01:21:05   The 400 pound lady during her workout / dripping sweat [036]   01:23:45   The duck-feeted bear [037]   01:26:25   Quirky Dr. Driller-finger at work [038]   01:30:41   Rock eating bats / spinning heads [039]   01:32:49   Entering a big dark room [040]   01:34:25   Oversized gorilla / torturing its pet tiger [041]   01:36:01   Skinless predators in a cage [042]   01:37:05   Leaving the horrofying area [043]   01:38:09   Colorful underwater birds in an aquarium [044]   01:40:49   Two humanoid isopod-boys rolling on the floor [045]   01:41:53   The end of the show / leaving confused 

4 – BEAUTIFUL END OF AN AMAZING DAY [046]   01:43:05   Sunset over the luna park [047]   01:44:42   The last ride [048]   01:46:50   Attractions closing [049]   01:48:58   A warm breeze [050]   01:50:34   People leaving [051]   01:52:42   Passing young people / darkness falls [052]   01:54:50   Walking through the empty park [053]   01:56:58   Reviewing today's experiences [054]   01:59:38   Leaving the park / meeting with friends [055]   02:03:22   A lively conversation [056]   02:04:26   Into a crowded pub [057]   02:08:10   Distracted by real beauty / back to reality [058]   02:10:50   Getting to know her / a nice talk [059]   02:12:58   Leaving together / kissing and hugging [060]   02:15:54   The moon and the stars

Celebrating Juneteenth & More Friends, Today is Juneteenth, thought to be the longest running celebration of the end of slavery in the United States. On June 19, 1865, notice of the Emancipation Proclamation freeing enslaved people finally reached Texas through an order read aloud by Union General Gordon Grange in Galveston. The word arrived a whopping two and a half years late. Abraham Lincoln’s initial draft of the Emancipation Proclamation is among the treasures contained in the Manuscript Division at the Library of Congress, and is viewable online here. https://ift.tt/3dd1WPr In fact, the Library plays host to a wealth of resources and materials related to the emancipation holiday and its celebration throughout American history, as well to the practice of slavery itself and to the voices of formerly enslaved people. Below you will find a list of new blog posts from throughout the Library highlighting a few such resources, including audio recordings from our poignant collection, “Voices Remembering Slavery: Freed People Tell Their Stories.” Other materials are being shared on our social media accounts throughout the day. This year’s Juneteenth celebrations have special significance and poignancy in today’s climate where issues of racial injustice are again at the forefront. Today at 4 p.m. ET, I am hosting a virtual conversation with current National Ambassador for Young People’s Literature Jason Reynolds and former National Ambassador Jacqueline Woodson about ways to hear and support kids during a period of nationwide protest against injustice. This event is part of our new online series "Hear You, Hear Me: Conversations on Race in America," which you can also learn more about below. You can watch it on our Facebook page, our YouTube channel or on our main website at loc.gov. I hope to “see” you there. Sincerely, Carla Hayden, Librarian of Congress Juneteenth-Related Posts from Across the Library's Blogs The Birth of Juneteenth; Voices of the Enslaved blogs.loc.gov/loc/2020/06/the-birth-of-juneteenth-voices-of-the-enslaved/​ Ralph Ellison’s “Juneteenth" blogs.loc.gov/catbird/2020/06/ralph-ellisons-juneteenth/​ Born in Slavery: Portraits and Narratives of Formerly Enslaved People blogs.loc.gov/picturethis/2020/06/born-in-slavery-portraits-and-narratives-of-formerly-enslaved-people/ Becky Elzy and Alberta Bradford: Spiritual Folklorists blogs.loc.gov/folklife/2018/02/becky-elzy-and-alberta-bradford-spiritual-folklorists/ When a Former Enslaved Person Debated a Former Confederate in the House of Representatives blogs.loc.gov/law/2020/06/when-a-former-slave-debated-a-former-confederate-in-the-house-of-representatives/ “Hear You, Hear Me”: Conversations on Race in America This new online series features Librarian of Congress Carla Hayden in conversation with some of the nation’s great literary figures, and will highlight what poetry and literature can offer the nation as it contends with foundational issues of social justice. Jason Reynolds and Jacqueline Woodson: TODAY, June 19, 4-5 p.m. ET Joy Harjo and Tracy K. Smith: Thursday, July 9, 7-8 p.m. ET Colson Whitehead: Thursday, July 16, 7-8 p.m. ET All of the conversations will be available for viewing after the launch. Event details: blogs.loc.gov/national-book-festival/2020/06/hear-you-hear-me-virtual-programs-feature-conversations-on-race-in-america/ Videos: loc.gov/programs/national-book-festival/national-book-festival-presents/ The Boccaccio Project: Concerts in Response to the COVID-19 Pandemic Watch as the Library premieres as series of 10 commissions of new music from composers across America in The Boccaccio Project, inspired by a similar literary effort in the mid-14th century by Giovanni Boccaccio. Watch as each concert premieres nightly at 8 p.m.June 15-26, or watch the full series: loc.gov/concerts/boccaccio-project/ Latest LCM Commemorates the End of World War II In the new issue of the Library of Congress Magazine, we commemorate the 75th anniversary of end of World War II and the service of the men and women who fought in that conflict. Features include: a one-of-a-kind map, made by Japanese pilots that detailed the damage inflicted at Pearl Harbor Manuscript Division collections that preserve photos taken in the field by Gen. George S. Patton commentary by Pulitzer Prize-winner Rick Atkinson on a war whose consequences continue to unspool more than seven decades later ... and more. Download your copy today: loc.gov/lcm/ Save the Date! The 2020 National Book Festival is Going Virtual The 20th Library of Congress National Book Festival will celebrate “American Ingenuity” in 2020, featuring the creativity and inspiration of some of the nation’s most gifted authors in a reimagined virtual festival the weekend of Sept. 25-27. The festival is part of the Library’s 220th anniversary year, and more details will be announced at a later date. loc.gov/item/prn-20-039/ June Is LGBTQ Pride Month June is Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender and Queer (LGBTQ) Pride Month and June 2020 marks the 50th anniversary of annual LGBTQ+ Pride traditions. The first Pride march in New York City was held on June 28, 1970 on the one-year anniversary of the Stonewall Uprising. Primary sources available at the Library of Congress provide detailed information about how this first Pride march was planned, and the reasons why activists felt so strongly that it should exist. loc.gov/lgbt-pride-month/ Support the Library We are more grateful than ever for all that you do to keep us strong. Whether you support the Library with a gift or simply by spreading the word about what we do, you help us in our mission to connect millions of people around the world with the stories of our collective past, present, and future. If you haven't yet had a chance to give and you're in a position to donate, please consider making a gift at loc.gov/donate/.

Kanekalon hair story

When I walked into the quiet atmosphere of Jenny's Beauty Supply in Dallas, it was far from the crowded shops I visited as a kid. I saw people between the hairstyles and others who had clearly finished a shift. Very few wandered aimlessly. It seemed that the majority of guests had clear intentions. A new wig, a pack of hair. My intention was clear. Prior to this year, I had never installed my own Kanekalon hair, a synthetic fiber that's messed up and worn everywhere, from the red carpet to catwalks for fashion weeks to my own neighborhood.

Instead, I sat between the legs of someone else who would weave it with my natural hair to make thick, golden cornrows and micro-lichens. However, a recent move has resulted in a change that matches my new environment. After watching old photos of TLC member T-Boz, I knew I wanted to pay homage.

In the midst of my impulse transformation, I realized how secondary a trip to the Kanekalon hair shop had become, not just for me, but for the black community in general. Although it's not exclusive to our culture, most people think it's a black innovation because we invest the most in it. Even if we are not responsible for its creation, its heritage began with our demand for it. And, as with most of the trends initiated by PoC, kanekalon hair is involved in both celebrated pop culture moments and often repeated controversies, the latter of which are still compounded by the fashion and cosmetics industries today.

Its origins are, to say the least, confused. Although it is most closely associated with and bought by black women, its original purpose may not have anything to do with structured hair. Some say that Kanekalon was intended as a wool alternative when it was founded in the 1950s. However, a more well-known story of origin is associated with the rebellion of Korean beauty companies, which in the 1960s overshadowed the industry and satisfied the demand of their mostly black consumers. According to InJin Yoon's book, "On My Own: Korean Business and Race Relations in America, 1967 is a more accurate date of birth. And once again, the cosmetics supply chains profited from it, Hollywood wanted a piece of the cake.

Black women, what are your favorite hairstyles you've done using braiding / kanekalon hair?

QT / Reply with photos.

I'll start: pic.twitter.com/sZPAYc7txq

– IG & YT: DE LA FRO (@delafro_) July 11, 2019

In the mid-1970s, the fashion and cosmetics industries used synthetic fibers not just for magazine shots and the runway. They also started to create their own brands. It became normal to see Kanekalon wigs sold by ebony ad placements and worn by white consumers. For example, most people forget that Lauren Hutton was the face of a Kanekalon brand in 1972.

The irony of his quick and lucrative trajectory is that the most popular Kanekalon options have been poor replicas of what black hair looks and feels like; the hair tied to women who have helped make it a hot commodity. As black supermodel Naomi Sims retired from the runway in 1973, she took her status to found Kanekalon Presselle, one of the few brands to curate products tailored to the consumer's hair.

Naomi Sims: Some consider her the first black supermodel. She was ahead of her time with her own makeup & wig lines. Sims cosmetics grossed over five million. pic.twitter.com/Rxqy9t4Nbc

– Brianna (@veraslang) February 3, 2018

According to Sims in an interview with The Washington Post in 1980, 40% of women who bought wigs were black women, which almost confirmed that the quality of supply was definitely out of demand. There was also the influence of Sims' own modeling career, which helped influence her move after retirement. Often, she was assigned to make her own hair or wigs that did not look like her own. Instead of settling down, she mastered a recipe that would become a model for her business years later.

"I bought several Caucasian, silky haired wigs, moistened them with a fixative cream, rolled them with steel rollers and put them in the oven …. I baked them at 175 degrees for about 15 minutes, and when they came out, they looked like black, straightened hair, "she said. According to The Entrepreneurial Spirit of African American Inventors, Sims' products have become bestsellers and helped secure Kanekalon's place as a permanent hair care product. In other words, a black woman's investment once again helped bring the staple foods to new heights.

Janet Jackson braids>

she still did not em & # 039; BEST !!

pic.twitter.com/UM7RDIEFcO

– karismaaa

(@Kayrenaex) December 9, 2014

In the 90s it had settled in its heritage and became synonymous with moments of pop culture that we still admire today. For example, Janet Jackson's Box Braids in Poetic Justice (1993) are just as popular as the movie itself. The hair Jackson's' do was made from was probably Tiara II, a series within the Kaneka Hair Care line developed almost 15 years earlier ,

Unfortunately, with a legacy clearly highlighted by black women, it is not surprising to acknowledge those who are only influenced by something they did not contribute to, especially in the age of social media. For example, when Kim Kardashian's wavy Kanekalon pony tail and smooth baby hair were introduced to the Vogue website in March 2019, it was labeled "modern" on Instagram. In other words, total extinction of the people who were innovative decades ago and who carried the style. Fortunately, social media has made it easier to challenge the people and spaces that make such assumptions.

Kim Kardashian West is bringing crimped hair back in a big way. https://t.co/iV1vWoCP0J pic.twitter.com/x23VEK78wr

– Vogue Runway (@ VogueRunway) March 15, 2019

she did what ????

she did what ???? pic.twitter.com/ltps6ieJAE

– micah (@kuwonustesoro) March 15, 2019

In response to Vogue's relative tweet, Twitter user Micah Nicole shared four photos of Nicki Minaj, Rihanna, Beyoncé, and Janet Jackson, who had a similar look months or years before and others took the opportunity to voice their displeasure to sign the misinformed beauties of the media. Likewise, Ariana Grande was accused of wearing Kanekalon braid hair, although she claimed her hair was simply wavy.

This is what Ariana thinks she looks like pic.twitter.com/ZvydLZG2dJ

– idalis (@KILOGNASH) August 26, 2019

But unlike celebrity hair moments, the runway was more definite in lending looks that are rooted in the black community. For example, for the NYFW Show Spring 2015, the Blonds white models were made with jumbo, blond kanekalon braids and baby hair. The hairdresser called the hairstyle "madness", which many rightly considered offensive.

Of course, for every Snafu, a feast that feels like a healing balm. The adventurous but joyous DMX Challenge was one of the youngest and most unexpected tributes to the basic beauty care package. Using the rapper classic "What These B-tches Want", which recites over 40 names, social media users (most of them black women) made mashup videos that featured different hairstyles that resonated with each name were.

might as well

#DMXchallenge pic.twitter.com/KxEBZh2iIm

– ari (@tthingtwo) September 6, 2019

"I'm 16 years old and hair is one of the expressions I express myself with. Especially with braids. You have … Passion, Havana and Marley[Twists].[and] Twists stuck in a bob, "Twitter user Abygail Metellus told me in the midst of the challenge. "Then you have the real hair …. My favorite color is purple, so you'll always see me in purple. But not the same color – dark purple, plum, lavender and ombré. I keep changing my style and never look the same again, even though I always have the same color in my hair … "

Oh! Virgin Hair owner Jasmine W. also shared the way she wears Kanekalon and wrote, "I use it for a ten-minute ponytail, a long rapunzel braid, a twin bun or a braided bun! If I do not have time to play and I still have to kill, I'll just put out a ponytail and put on the bad boy. "

Fleeting viral moments like these make it clear how intertwined – literally and figuratively in this case – that products or looks have been integrated into our culture. Kanekalon hair is undoubtedly one of those things. Although its genesis and its ultimate advancement may well be multicultural, no one has accepted and invested in it more than the black community. And regardless of the hair innovations that will emerge in the future, it will be impossible to part with our rich history.

Kanekalon hair story

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