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robininthelabyrinth · 7 years

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Fic: Trouble on the Way - Chapter 1/4 (Ao3 link) Fandom: The Flash, DC's Legends of Tomorrow (total AU) Pairing: Mick Rory/Leonard Snart, very very mild hints of possible Barry Allen/Leonard Snart/Mick Rory if you want to read them in there Series: Sequel to Bad Moon Rising Warning: explicit adult content

Summary: It occurs to Len that maybe he's been willfully ignoring reality when it came to Mick's new condition. Oh, sure, he'd done the basic research, the public stuff, but he'd been so determined not to make Mick feel like any more of a freak than he already did that he'd perhaps skimped a little on some of the details that were turning out to be more relevant than he'd originally thought.

Time to fix that.

A/N: Will only make sense if you've read the first one in the series, as it follows straight on it, but I think the first one is one of my best standalones, so I'm making this a sequel instead

An executive decision was made that (in the spirit of the first one) this series is going to be like a minimum of 70% kinky smut, because we can always use more of that in this fandom, so, uh, mind the full set of warnings on Ao3.

Specially shout-out to @prouvairablehulk, who wanted very much to see this as a birthday gift - consider this a very belated one!

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Mick ends up making the chocolate chip pancakes, too, and insisting that Len eat some of those as well.

Len tries to sulk while he eats, because Mick is, as usual, cheerfully obstinate about explaining any details about, well, anything, but...it's very hard to convincingly sulk while eating chocolate chip pancakes piled high with whipped cream and maple syrup.

Not eating them when they're hot from the pan is, of course, unthinkable.

When Len is all full up on breakfast, to the point where he is seriously considering rolling himself back to bed for a nice follow-up nap, Mick finally stretches and pads out of the kitchen to start putting on his boots.

"Where are you going?" Len asks, twisting and frowning at him.

"Need to check out the various safehouses we’ve got," Mick says. "Full moon's coming up tomorrow."

"Is that going to be a problem?" Len asks. "You haven't needed the, uh..." He nods in the general direction of the old bank safe that they'd reserved for Mick's monthly complaint the first month or two. "...in a while, and you said you’d be better…?"

"Nah, nothing like that," Mick says. "Just some instinctual stuff. Don't worry about it. I'll be back in an hour or two."

"Okay," Len says, and waits for Mick to leave before going to get dressed himself. He gets the feeling that Mick intended for Len to stick around the house, lazing around the way he usually does after a night filled with adrenaline, but it occurs to him that he might have been willfully ignoring reality when it came to Mick's condition. Oh, sure, he'd done the basic research, the public stuff, but he'd been so determined not to make Mick feel like any more of a freak than he already did that he'd perhaps skimped a little on some of the details that were turning out to be more relevant than he'd originally thought.

Time to fix that.

He finds a WiFi hotspot with a public phone line he loop his burner phone into - three cheers for modern convenience - and dials the City Hall hotline.

"Welcome to Central City's supernatural service hotline," a perky recorded voice tells him. "We are happy to assist you with any supernatural issues you may be dealing with. If you're a homeowner concerned about the supernatural, press one." Len rolls his eyes. Of course they go first. "If you're a business owner looking for additional information about Central City's newly passed Supernatural Being Anti-Discrimination Act, or SBADA, please press two. If you've been recently transformed into -"

Len presses three. He didn't want the city's standard relax-its-fine patter; he wanted whatever the hell sort of intel it was that Mick got.

He ends up having to select werewolf out an increasingly bizarre list (vampire, sure, he gets, but he didn't even know you could be transformed into a dryad or a selkie - though maybe that's just more anti-discrimination measures?) and then waiting to be transferred to another line.

As he waits, he notices that some guy walking by is giving Len the eye. Like, he’s full on stopped walking and is staring, which, rude. Len knows he’s probably got a hell of a hickey (...hickies, plural, let's not lie to yourself, Leonard) from last night, which is probably what’s caught the guy’s attention, but still. Staring at Len like a yokel gawping at a tourist attraction is just not on. Len flips the guy off, making the man flush, cough a little, and skitter away.

"Thank you for calling the Central City Supernatural Hotline, werewolf division," a pleasant tenor chirps in Len's ear, drawing his attention back. "My name is Dan. How recently did you suffer the bite and are you in need of immediate medical assistance?"

"I feel like that question’d work better if I hadn't had to navigate a message tree to get here," Len says automatically, then shakes his head. He's here for answers, not for snark.

"We're aware of that difficulty," the man - Dan? Dan the werewolf? Really? Talk about family-friendly packaging - says apologetically. "While there is a supernatural division of 911 designated for immediate calls, sometimes people call this number instead. Is everything presently all right on your end?"

"Uh, yeah," Len says. "It's been - a few months already. Four or five or so." Very nearly seven, actually, if you counted by moons. "I just had a couple of questions about, uh, social aspects?"

"Oh, absolutely!" Dan trills, sounding legitimately delighted. They've got some heavy-duty telemarketer training over there, that's all Len's saying. "If you've been turned for a few months, then you should definitely be feeling the werewolf's innate need to join a pack. We have several excellent options right here in Central City -"

"Let's say I'd rather not," Len cuts in hastily before the guy can do his whole spiel.

“I would recommend against trying to stay on your own,” Dan says, in that irritating sympathetic voice people get when they think they know better than you but also that you’re only disagreeing with them because you’re poor, stupid and misguided. “As I’m sure you’ve realized, werewolves have extremely strong social instinct, much stronger even than regular humans. We’re not a species meant to live on our own. The pack instinct is one of the most dominating inclinations a werewolf can have outside of the moon, much stronger than either human or natural wolf instincts, and –”

"What if I wanted to start my own pack?" Len interrupts. “How’d I go about doing that?”

"Well, I wouldn't recommend that," Dan says, his voice notably less peppy. "It's a difficult and uncertain process, and -"

"Let's say I want to do it anyway. What happens?"

"Well, traditionally, self-started packs reflect natural wolf social standards, that of the family unit, which means you need to find a mate - and you must understand, it can't just be someone you're fond of, but someone strong and admirable that you can put first above all others -"

Well, so far, so good.

"- because the strength of a pack, you see, is judged a mix of two things: the power of the wolf and the strength of will of the mate, and that judgment can mean a lot of things for future social interactions with other packs, so it's really not a decision that ought to be entered into lightly. You have to think about the issues involved in taking a mate: commitment, for one thing; you don't want to commit to someone who isn't just as committed to you, especially in light of the changes that -"

"Yes, yes," Len says dismissively. He didn't really care what other changes Mick would undergo; Mick is his partner, damnit. Len is as committed as you get. Besides, Mick had said he would be calmer and more controlled now, which was all to the good. "What happens next, after you pick one?"

"Well," and now Dan sounded quite dubious, "the next step involves setting up a territory, usually a house or apartment, and engaging in acts of territorial display of both the location and the mate in question - especially in the beginning when the mate will be particularly appealing to other competitors in the period before the final claim, the degree of attractiveness depending on the desirable qualities of the mate you’ve chosen – demonstrations of willpower and independence in particular being the most attractive – but that's less important, really, I feel we should go back to discussing the issue of selecting a mate in the first place, which absolutely should not be done independently by a brand new wolf, without first bringing the intended mate in to talk with an established pack about the adjustments they will face -"

Len is not going to drag his relationship with his partner, now thirty years running, to goddamn City Hall for approval. Certainly not now that it’s apparently developed a sexual aspect, which they both seem to be pretty into and interested in continuing even now that the sorceress’ malediction has worn off.

Well, Len’s at least interested in continuing it, and judging from what Mick had promised over breakfast – plenty of pretty words about fucking Len till he couldn’t walk anymore, if Len recalls correctly – well, it sounded like he’s pretty interested in keeping it going, too.

"Got it," he says shortly. "Now, about mates, um - are there any sort of -" He hesitates a little, because he's not a shy man but he's in public and this is his and Mick's private business, but he's got to ask. "Are there any sort of unexpected sexual elements -"

"This hotline is not available to appease prurient interests," Dan cuts in, his voice suddenly steely. "If you want additional details, I suggest that you come down to City Hall and ask for them from a wolf in person - though you may not survive the encounter, so I'd recommend against it. It is absolutely none of your business; you're clearly not even a werewolf."

"But -"

"Thank you very much for calling, and have a nice day."

Then there's dial tone. Len stares at the phone. "Are you fucking kidding me?" he says, disbelievingly. Fucking Dan just hung up on him. He got hung up on by a hotline.

Well, that was a waste of time.

He didn’t even get to ask if lycanthropy could be sexually transmitted.

Len shakes his head and turns around and standing right behind Len, creepy as anything, is that fucking guy who was staring earlier, staring again. His nostrils flare like he's trying to smell Len or something, which is even creepier, and Len is taking a second to wonder how this guy snuck up on him, which is why the guy manages to stutter out, "Um, hi - I just -" and then he reaches out and cups Len's cheek with his hand.

What the fuck no.

Len snaps his hand up and catches a finger of the hand on his face, bending it backwards to the point of near snapping, sliding his leg forward and using his bulk and the man's own momentum to spin the guy around and slam him face-first against the nearest wall, arm jerked around behind his back until it's straining painfully out of its joint and Len still twisting the man's hand. He does it in one smooth move, so the guy barely has time to yelp before his face meets concrete wall.

"Now you listen here," Len says, very calmly. "I don't know what you think are proper manners when coming up to a stranger on the street, but I'm going to say that you're a very lucky man. You see, I gotta get back home, or else I'd show you, in detail, how inappropriate you were just being." He pulls the man's arm, forcing the man onto his tiptoes in an effort to reduce the strain, whimpering pitifully. "That being said, if I ever catch you just walking up to another person, any other person, that you don’t know and don’t know you and touching them like that again, you will lose the hand you did it with. We clear?"

"Clear!" the man squeaks.

"Good," Len says, voice still calm. Grabby assholes like this aren’t worth getting angry about, though he must admit that he hasn’t had to deal with them that much personally since his height first cracked six feet. "Then we're done here. No, wait -" He spins the man back around and slams his fist into the tender part of the man’s stomach, making the man retch and clutch at his midsection and fall back on his ass, back against the wall. Weakling. "- now we're done. Keep the bruises as a reminder."

With that, he turns on his heel and stalks off in the direction of home, uncomfortably aware that the guy behind him on the ground - and a small handful of other people in the milling crowd - are staring after him. Not creepy-staring, at least; more "put in their proper place" staring or "unaccustomed to public violence" staring, but whatever. Still staring. Fuck all of them.

Dan on the phone was basically useless, but he did say something about Mick being extra territorial for a bit, which means Len's got to get back to the safehouse before Mick realizes he's gone and starts burning things to relieve his anxiety.

Len was gone maybe thirty, forty minutes, tops, but Mick still beats him back home and is looking through the rooms of their safehouse with an anxious expression that eases when he sees Len. "Where'd you go?" his partner asks, stepping forward and pulling Len effortlessly into his arms, which is - unexpected, but rather nice, actually, the way Mick does it, all telegraphed motions and slow enough that Len can break away if he wants. Len can feel the tension from his earlier encounter seeping away into Mick's warmth. Mm, maybe he can ask for another massage. That is definitely a relationship perk that Len is going to insist on keeping.

"Nowhere important," Len says. "Wanted to jack the WiFi from somewhere that won't lead back to our safehouse, s’all."

Mick puts a hand on his cheek, right where the other guy had it, and pulls Len into a kiss. A hell of a kiss, too; it's messy and hard, just right, less a greeting than the promise of a real good fuck later, Mick's hands sliding down to cup Len's ass and bend him backward a bit as Len puts his hands on Mick's arm and back and kisses back as hard as he can.

Screw a good fuck later, that’s a promise of a good fuck now.

Yeah, Len's definitely okay with this whole mate thing. Pancakes, massages, and Mick's total devotion - what's not to like? He can handle Mick being territorial for a while; honestly, he can't see it being that different from usual. Even before the transformation, Mick was a possessive bastard, looming at Len's shoulder like a warning; back when they were in prison, especially in the beginning before Len had developed his reputation for viciousness and all people had to judge him on was his pretty face, Mick'd started fights over Len like that was his job.

Len chuckles a little at the memory and Mick breaks away.

"What's so funny?" Mick says gruffly, his voice deep like it had been yesterday, sexual and hungry, and it sent a shiver of lust through Len's spine like he’d already developed Pavlov's dog reaction to it. Fuck Mick's voice; how does he get it to just the right timbre to bypass Len’s conscious mind and go straight to his cock?

"Just thinking about being in the can, back in the early days," Len says. "You getting into that fight with the entire bleachers gang -"

"Yeah," Mick says, his voice getting deeper, somehow, his eyes glazing over with memory. He presses up against Len and Len can feel how hard he is; looks like bringing up that memory is like touching a live wire for Mick's libido right now. "Yeah, I remember that - they wanted your ass and I put them all down, every one of them, for even thinking of touching you -"

Territoriality, check. Len hides a smile; thank you, hotline Dan.

Mick's pressing his mouth against Len's jawline and kissing along his cheek, like he's determined to cover every square inch of where his hand had been earlier. "Yeah," he says again. "Len - Lenny -"

"Yeah?" Len says, rocking his hips back against Mick's, teasing them both with the glancing contact. It's been hours and hours since yesterday, and Len's sex drive has always been pretty high octane; he's ready to go again, definitely. All this talk of territory is revving him up as well - no one ever said Len wasn't a possessive bastard, too. No fucking City Hall pack taking away Mick, no sir, not while Len's around. He can handle this even without full information, so fuck you, hotline Dan.

"I want you," Mick says like it's not obvious.

"Sure," Len says agreeably, reaching down and cupping Mick's ass with both hands. "And how, exactly, do you want me?"

Okay, so the dirty talk yesterday really worked for Len. So sue him.

"I'm gonna fuck your face," Mick says, eyes gleaming. "I'm gonna take you up to bed, gonna push you down and climb on top of you; you'll be lying back, head on the pillows, no leverage at all, hands trapped under my legs - you won't be able to do anything but take it, how and when I feel like giving it to you -"

Len groans and kisses Mick, filthy and wet and open-mouthed. "What're you waiting for, then?" he says goadingly. "Let's do that."

Mick slides his hands down and Len knows he's going to try to lift Len before he does it, so Len helps, sliding both legs up around Mick's waist, trusting Mick's enhanced strength to carry him, and fuck, he loves it, he loves how easily Mick hoists him up; he liked being pinned, being manhandled, back when he was a teenager and waiting for that final growth spurt, and no one'd ever managed it properly since. No one until Mick, and that was even better - the hands that supported him on every mission, in every endeavor, pulling him up and moving him however Mick pleased; the guy that had his back, the guy who always listened and was the very first person to ever call Len 'boss', now taking charge and taking control, taking anything he wanted and Len letting him because he trusts him -

Len groans and starts working on a hickey on Mick's neck as well. Stupid werewolf healing probably meant it'd be gone within hours, but everyone on the street got to see that Mick had marked Len, so everyone should also see that Mick had been marked by Len as well. A sign to everyone: this one is taken, this one is mine. Yeah, Len likes the sound of that.

And if it fades, well, Len will just have to do it again. It's a sacrifice he's willing to make...

Mick carries Len to his bedroom - Mick's, not Len's, which Len doesn’t mind in the slightest - and they can't get their hands off of each other the entire time. Len's managed to get Mick's suspenders off, hanging down low by his hips, and his hands under Mick's shirt, and then Mick dumps him on the edge of the bed, pulling away to strip off. Len pulls the stuff out of his pockets and dumps it on the bedside table, peeling off his pants and stripping off his shirt and sweater - why did he bother putting on so many layers again? - and he's just gotten naked when Mick is on him again, pulling him in for a kiss before pushing him back on the bed.

Len wiggles back until he's comfortable, his shoulders and neck supported by pillows, Mick watching him hungrily the entire time and then throwing a leg over him, settling down on Len's chest. Len's arms are pinned down by Mick's legs, just as Mick had said; he can run his hands along Mick's calves or the back of his thighs, but he can't get the leverage to escape, and he can't get free enough to touch himself at all.

Pinned down at Mick's mercy.

"You want my mouth?" Len says, looking up at Mick, who was so goddamn beautiful naked; his arms and chest and legs well-defined, muscles straining - real muscle, the sort you get from hard work and exercise, from lifting safes during heists and picking fights, and the slight plush curve of his stomach that Len had the sudden urge to run his cheek against, feeling the softness in contrast to the rest of Mick, warm and giving. And Mick's cock was big and heavy and hard and right there, making Len's mouth water. "You gonna give it to me, Mick? Shut me up?"

"I like it when you talk," Mick says unexpectedly. "I like how fucking smart you are, even when sometimes you go on about it too long." He smirks. "It's great background filler."

"You dick," Len says fondly.

"Yeah," Mick says. "Glad you noticed it; otherwise I might have to question your eyesight."

Len snickers. "Well, when the evidence is right in front of me -"

"You know what, I think you’re right, it’s definitely time to shut up, Lenny," Mick says with a chuckle of his own. He reaches for Len's head, wrapping one hand around the side and using his other hand to thumb Len's mouth open. "Time to use that smartass mouth of yours for something more useful."

Len would retort, but Mick's fingers are sliding into his mouth, heavy on his tongue, and he opts to suck on them instead, laving them with his tongue as he does, his eyes looking up at Mick's face. Mick starts moving his fingers in and out a little, mimicking the act of fucking, and his face is rapt with attention. Like he can't get enough of watching Len.

Len tries all the tricks he knows, using his tongue to show off what he'd do to Mick's cock if only he got a chance, but Mick keeps his fingers there instead, moving gently and infuriatingly slowly, until Len pulls back his head just the littlest amount the pillows allow him and Mick immediately removes his fingers in response. "Well?" Len pants, looking up at Mick. "You want my mouth or not? You just gonna play all day, or you gonna fuck me?"

Mick smirks and Len abruptly realizes that this is what Mick's been waiting for, that they've been playing a game of chicken and he hadn't even noticed. "You want my cock, huh?" Mick asks. "Is that what you want? My fingers not enough for you, huh? You need more? Gotta have more?"

"Yeah," Len says, because shame is useless to him when Mick is there instead, because Mick of all people will never use anything Len says against him. "Yeah, I want your cock, Mick, I want it in my mouth. I wanna taste you, I wanna suck you - I want my jaw to hurt 'cause I've been sucking you so long, 'cause I can't get enough of you; want to be on my knees or back for you all day, please, Mick, give it to me - let me blow you, let me suck you off - please -"

"Fuck," Mick breathes, eyes wide and cock twitching. So beautiful, Mick is, at the mercy of Len's voice even in a position where he has all the power. "Fuck, Lenny, you're so goddamn pretty when you beg for my cock -"

Len runs his hands over Mick where he can reach, looking up at Mick through his eyelashes. "C'mon, Mick," he coaxes. "Don't keep me waiting, don't keep me hanging - I want you to give it to me, I want you, I want your cock in my mouth -"

Mick groans and finally, finally, slides forward, pushing Len's mouth open with his fingers - Len's happy to comply - and using his other hand to guide his cock in. Len hums happily and takes it, sucking as best as he can in this angle, but this position gives Mick all the power, all the control; he can move as slow or as fast as he likes. And he's chosen slow, torturously slow, fucking Len's face with gentle, rocking motions of his hips, giving Len just a taste of him.

Len whines a little, wanting more, and Mick snarls with pleasure, thrusts changing until he's deeper, still moving slow but letting himself pull almost all the way out and the sliding in, big and relentless until Len's almost choking on him, would be choking on him if he hadn't gotten rid of his gag reflex years ago, practicing on other, lesser people. There's nothing Len can do, his own cock twitching untouched, his hips jerking futilely; he just lies there and takes it, takes whatever Mick wants to give him, and what Mick wants to give him is slow and intense and fuck, Len's going to go crazy -

Len's phone rings.

What the fuck.

Both Mick and Len stop where they are; Len can't even turn and stare incredulously at the phone like he wants to, his mouth still wrapped around Mick, but - seriously? Who the fuck is even calling?

Mick reaches over - the temporary change in angle making him slide in just that little bit deeper - and picks up the cell phone to look at the caller ID.

Len would ask who it was, but, again, his mouth is stuffed full of cock. He expects Mick to hit ignore and get back to what they're doing, but unexpectedly Mick chuckles.

And then he answers the phone, what the hell.

"Hi, Flash," Mick says, and then Len does actually choke a bit, mostly in surprise; shit, the Flash must be calling to arrange their post-fight download - normally Len calls him, not vice versa, but Len had totally forgotten about it today in light of pancakes and werewolf issues -

Len tries to wiggle a little, trying to indicate to Mick with his eyebrows that Mick should pull out and give Len the phone, but Mick ignores him, reaching down with his free hand to wrap his fingers back around Len's head, and he starts moving his hips again, thrusting into Len's mouth in long, rolling thrusts just like Len likes.

"No, Len can't come to the phone right now," Mick says into the cell. "He's a bit pinned down at the moment - "

Len can't believe Mick sometimes. He isn't seriously -

Yes, yes he is.

The worst part of it, too, is that Len can feel his cock twitching at it, because he likes this, too; he likes the idea that Mick's talking to the Flash, casual as anything, while Len gags on his cock, sucking him off as best as he can. Fuck, and the Flash would have no idea, of course, just talking on the phone like normal, no idea that Len's pinned there and Mick's taking his mouth like it's his right, not unless he hears the slick sound of Mick's cock moving in and out of Len's mouth -

Len moans around Mick's cock, his voice muffled, and starts sucking again in earnest.

"Yeah, he's all filled up with other stuff today," Mick says into the phone, hips moving faster now. "Schedule's totally -" he thrusts in again "- full, I'm afraid. And tomorrow's the moon, so I wouldn't recommend it - maybe the day after?"

Len whines a little, knowing there's a risk the Flash could hear him - goddamn supernatural senses - and finding himself unable to care, the thought of it spurring him on, making him moan and whimper under Mick, suddenly vocal, and that just makes Mick go faster, too.

"Yeah, that'll work," Mick says, voice straining a little to keep his calm. "I'll tell him. He'll call you. Yeah, sounds good. Bye."

He pulls the phone away from his ear and clicks the end call button with a vicious jab of his finger, throwing Len's phone carelessly across the room a second later.

"You liked that, didn't you?" he growls, voice making Len's hips jerk up helplessly in automatic response. "You liked moaning and whimpering like that, liked the idea of him hearing you, hearing how much you want me, how much you're mine - you don't care, you're shameless, you'd be on your knees for me in a heartbeat, no matter who's around, you'd let me push you over the bar at Saints, let me have you right there where everyone can see, show them all that you belong to me, that you want me - me and nobody else -"

Len keens a little. Yes, yes, Len's Mick's, whatever Mick wants, yes -

" - yeah, you can't keep off of me, can you?" Mick says, and his voice is ragged, breath coming hard. "You can't stay away, you need me, my Len, my Lenny - you're all mine, body and soul, my mate, and no one else gets to touch you - just me, whenever I want, however I want, and you'll let me do anything I want because you want me that fucking much -"

He pulls out of Len's mouth abruptly, wrapping his hand around himself and starting to jerk himself off. "Gonna come on your face," he pants. "Gonna mark you up, gonna show everyone you're mine -"

"Yeah," Len says, voice raspy. "Yeah, Mick, all yours, always yours, anything you want, because you're mine, too -"

He closes his eyes and opens his mouth, and with a grunt Mick comes, spurting on Len's lips, Len's cheeks, and Len lets his tongue flick out to catch some because it makes Mick groan, makes him pump out a bit more until Len's dripping with it. Definitely more than a human would produce, Len thinks to himself, and then Mick's thumb is there, rubbing it into Len's cheek.

"Show them," Mick mutters to himself, sounding almost dazed. "I'm gonna show them you're mine - they shouldn't touch you, how dare they touch you -"

The man from earlier, Len suddenly realizes; Mick must've smelled his hand or something. He can't help but smirk - if this is what it gets him, then maybe Len shouldn't have been so mean to the man.

Nah. Creepster deserved it.

Mick leans down and kisses Len, hard, possessive. Len's breathing hard when Mick pulls back.

"You know," Len pants, "I think we're forgetting something important here."

Mick draws back a little, letting Len prop himself up on his elbows. "How's that?" he asks, starting to smirk a little.

"Yeah, me," Len says tartly. "Only one of us got off just now, if you remember."

"Oh, I remember," Mick says, his smirk growing wide and wolfish. He rolls off of Len onto his side on the bed, running a lazy hand down Len’s torso teasingly.

"Well?” Len prods, pointedly arching his hips up a little. “You going to do something about it?"

Mick’s hand goes lower and lower and right as he gets an inch away – "Nope."

"Nope?!” Len yelps. “What do you mean, nope?"

"I mean, nope," Mick says, and stretches lazily. Len's protest catches in his throat as he watches Mick, glorious in his nudity.

Well, if Mick won't offer a hand for some reason known only to him, at least he provides a hell of a visual. Len's been jerking it to Mick on the down low for years anyway; Mick sated and post-coital is even hotter than he imagined it being.

But as Len reaches for himself, Mick catches his wrist.

"Mick," Len says warningly.

"Nope," Mick says, smirking.

"I wanna get off, Mick," Len says, aware that he's perilously close to whining.

"But you're not going to," Mick says confidently. "My werewolf metabolism means I'm gonna be ready to go again in a couple of hours, but if you get off now, you'll be too tired for more than one other round today. So you're going to keep your hands to yourself like a good boy, and I'll let you ride my cock later on."

Len swallows. "You make it sound like something we wouldn't do anyway," he says haughtily, but unfortunately he's naked and Mick can see the way his cock jumped a little at his words, which Len is choosing to ascribe to his stupid Pavlov's dog reaction to Mick's voice.

"Oh, I'm going to fuck you later," Mick says agreeably. "That's not in question. Full moon's tomorrow, and I'm going to spend all night and day fucking you till you forget your own name. But I want it to be good for you, so if you just be good for a few more hours, till the sun sets, I'll let you set the speed for the first round, let you crawl up into my lap like the needy thing you are and make me give it to you as long and as hard as you like. Or you can jerk off now. The choice is all yours."

He leans in close, his eyes fixed on Len's, face close enough that Len can feel his breath. "How's it gonna be, Lenny? You gonna be a good boy for me?"

"Yeah," Len breathes, and Mick kisses him like a reward.

Then he pulls away and gets up out of bed. "I'm going to pack our stuff," he says. "I've decided - as much as I like this place, lots of nice memories already - that the house on Sullivan will be most appropriate for the full moon this month."

The house on Sullivan is in the rich man's district, empty for the summer as they flee to cooler climes. It's a long abandoned house, ugly as sin on the outside but sweet as hell on the inside. It's got a king sized bed, soft as a cloud.

"Okay," Len says. "Sullivan is fine."

Mick pads towards the door.

"Hey, Mick," Len says. Mick looks back, raising his eyebrows. "How will you know if I've listened to you or not?"

Mick smirks. "I'll smell it on you. Like I said, Lenny; choice is all yours."

Len watches him go, then looks down. He's hard enough for it to start to ache with the need for release, between the events of yesterday and today, and he's never gone without unless circumstances meant he had to. Besides, it's not like Mick won't fuck him either way, and it's not like he needs a particular position or -

Fuck.

Fucking Mick and his way of finding kinks Len didn't even know he had. Len wouldn't put up with this shit if it wasn't Mick, but Mick has a way of making it seem like it would be worth it and damnit, Len actually does trust him that it will be worth it.

Len rolls out of bed, and pulls on his pants grumpily.

Len’d never tell anyone, but the smile Mick gives him when he joins him in the packing is worth it already.

#my fic #dccoldwave #mick rory #leonard snart #bad moon rising

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bountyofbeads · 4 years

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Newly revealed emails show why Trump should fear a real Senate trial

By Paul Waldman | Published December 23 at 9:58 AM ET | Washington Post | Posted December 23, 2019 |

Though articles of impeachment against President Trump have been approved by the House, the investigation — both official and journalistic — is by no means over. And newly revealed emails demonstrate not just why Democrats are so eager for Trump’s trial in the Senate to include testimony from witnesses we have yet to hear from, but also why Republicans are so frightened of the prospect:

An official from the White House budget office directed the Defense Department to “hold off” on sending military aid to Ukraine less than two hours after President Trump’s controversial phone call with Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky, according to internal emails.

Michael Duffey, a senior budget official, told Pentagon officials that Trump had become personally interested in the Ukraine aid and had ordered the hold, according to the heavily redacted emails, obtained by the Center for Public Integrity on Friday in response to a Freedom of Information Act request. He also asked the Pentagon not to discuss the hold widely.

Now we know why House Democrats subpoenaed Duffey as part of the impeachment inquiry — and why he and other officials refused to comply as part of the White House’s stonewalling of the inquiry.

You might say that while these emails give us some more detail about how this policy was implemented, it doesn’t change the basic story. But let me emphasize this in particular:

“Given the sensitive nature of the request, I appreciate your keeping that information closely held to those who need to know to execute the direction,” Duffey wrote in a July 25 email to Pentagon Comptroller Elaine McCusker and others.

This directly undermines the justification Trump’s defenders have so often offered for holding up the aid: that it was not to coerce Ukraine into helping Trump’s reelection campaign but was merely a product of Trump’s passionate commitment to fighting corruption (please stop laughing).

If that were true, the White House would have wanted to make sure that every relevant official in the government was informed about the suspension of aid and why it was being undertaken. The White House might even have wanted to talk about it publicly. Instead, the White House treated the suspension of aid as a secret so dangerous that if if were discovered it would be a disaster.

So officials in the Pentagon couldn’t figure out what was going on, and many of them feared that since the aid had been appropriated by Congress, withholding it was against the law. Why were they kept in the dark? Because of the way those close to Trump treated what he was doing on Ukraine. They acted as though the president was up to something so problematic that it had to be kept secret even from other officials in the government, let alone Congress or the public.

That’s what Duffey surely meant when he talked about how “sensitive” the withholding of aid was. That’s how National Security Council lawyers reacted when they saw that Trump had strong-armed Zelensky on that infamous phone call; in a panic, they hid the transcript in a special server so it could be accessed by as few officials as possible to keep people from knowing what Trump had done. The common reaction when those around Trump learned of his moves on Ukraine seems to have been: Oh, my God. We have to keep this from getting out.

And they were right. When it finally did become public, the result was the impeachment of the president.

These new emails will make it even more difficult for Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-Ky.) to justify staging the kind of Senate trial he and the White House would obviously prefer: one as brief as possible, with no witnesses. And while the president himself might like to create an absurdist spectacle by forcing Joe Biden or his son to testify, Trump doesn’t have a single witness he could call whose testimony would support the idea of his innocence.

That’s Trump’s problem, which is now McConnell’s problem, in a nutshell. If there are going to be any witnesses at all, they would have to include at a minimum Duffey, acting White House chief of staff Mick Mulvaney and former national security adviser John Bolton, all of whom have refused to testify before the House. And who would the witnesses for Trump’s defense be? They’ve got nothing.

So revelations such as these new emails — and they won’t be the last — will actually make McConnell even more determined to hold a perfunctory trial without witnesses. The more obvious it becomes that there is more to learn about Trump’s attempt to coerce Ukraine to help his reelection, the less willing he’ll be to open that can of worms. And the less likely it will be that the public gets to see the whole sordid story laid out in Trump’s trial.

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New emails help peel back the layers of pressure surrounding Trump’s July 25 call with Zelensky

By Philip Bump | Published December 23 at 11:37 AM ET | Washington Post | Posted December 23, 2019 |

Twenty-nine times in the past three months, President Trump has used Twitter to implore the country to read the rough transcript of his July 25 call with Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky.

To hear Trump tell it, the rough transcript itself proves that there was no effort to pressure Zelensky to launch investigations that would benefit Trump politically. Instead, it was just two guys talking, with one, the president of the United States, suggesting that Ukraine should launch the investigations and the other readily agreeing. It was, in Trump’s abbreviated assessment, “perfect.”

Even when the rough transcript was first released, that assertion was dubious. Since then, we’ve learned a lot about the context in which the conversation took place, context that makes clear that Ukraine was well aware of what Trump sought and what it was expected to do. That context became more obvious over the weekend with the release of emails showing discussion of the hold on aid to Ukraine immediately after Trump and Zelensky hung up the phone.

WHAT THE ROUGH TRANSCRIPT SAYS

Even within the transcript, there are hints that Zelensky understands both what’s expected of him and that he’s agreeing to the terms.

The most obvious indication of that came toward the end of the call.

“I also wanted to thank you for your invitation to visit the United States, specifically Washington D.C.,” Zelensky said. “On the other hand, I also wanted (to) ensure you that we will be very serious about the case and will work on the investigation.”

On the one hand, Zelensky is thanking Trump for prior invitations to come to the White House. On the other, he assures Trump that the investigations he seeks will move forward. There’s a link between the two that’s implied in that phrasing, and, as we’ll see, it mirrors a link that had been presented to Zelensky as essential.

Trump, of course, makes his own connections between what Zelensky wants and what he himself hopes to obtain.

“I would also like to thank you for your great support in the area of defense,” Zelensky said to Trump. “We are ready to continue to cooperate for the next steps specifically we are almost ready to buy more Javelins from the United States for defense purposes.”

Javelins are antitank weapons that were provided to Ukraine earlier in Trump’s administration to support the country in its struggle against Russia. They are the most direct example of how U.S. military aid has been deployed to Ukraine.

Instead of acquiescing to Zelensky’s request — or even acknowledging it — Trump segues.

“I would like you to do us a favor though because our country has been through a lot and Ukraine knows a lot about it,” Trump said. The favor? Launch an investigation into his bizarre conspiracy theory about the hacking of the Democratic National Committee during the 2016 election.

Trump has recently tried to argue that the “us” in that phrasing is a reference to the United States broadly and, therefore, that he wasn’t asking for something of benefit to himself. The nature of the request and his tendency to refer to himself in the first-person plural, though, make that claim hard to accept.

In short, there are two apparent points of leverage buried in the transcript: the meeting in Washington and Ukraine’s desire for additional military aid.

WHAT WAS HAPPENING JULY 25: THE AID

Ukraine would have had every reason to believe that more aid was coming. On June 18, the Department of Defense announced publicly that it was sending $250 million appropriated by Congress to Ukraine.

When Trump saw news coverage of that announcement, though, he balked. The next day, he asked Mike Duffey, a political appointee in the Office of Management and Budget, to learn more about why the aid was being disbursed. On July 3, a notification to Congress from OMB that the aid was being released was put on hold. On July 12, the aid was frozen, a decision that was announced within the administration broadly July 18.

We’ve known for some time that the formal order to hold the aid came late in the day July 25, sometime around 6:45 p.m. Emails released to the Center for Public Integrity published over the weekend show additional conversations that same day centered on the hold in aid.

About 11 a.m. — some 90 minutes after Trump and Zelensky got off the phone — Duffey emailed staffers at the Department of Defense.

“Based on guidance I have received and in light of the Administration’s plan to review assistance to Ukraine,” Duffey wrote, “including the Ukraine Security Assistance Initiative, please hold off on any additional DoD obligations of these funds, pending direction from that process.” Later, he added, that “[g]iven the sensitive nature of the request, I appreciate your keeping that information closely held to those who need to know to execute the direction.”

On July 2, the day before the congressional notification was due to go out, Duffey had been informed that $7 million in aid had already been sent to Ukraine according to another email obtained by CPI. Here, he’s instructing Defense not to obligate any further money, given the hold.

Mark Sandy, an OMB official who testified as part of the impeachment inquiry, was carbon-copied on the email. Sandy testified that he had been informed of the halt to aid via email from the office of acting White House Chief of Staff Mick Mulvaney on July 12 — but hadn’t received it until after he returned from vacation. On July 19, after he was back, Duffey informed him about the hold.

Sandy was concerned about legal obligations OMB had to get the money out the door by the end of the fiscal year Sept. 30, so he scheduled a meeting with counsel on July 22 — three days before the Trump-Zelensky call. To ensure that Defense could meet that obligation, it was determined that the department should be able to move forward with its work preparing the disbursement of the money, as Duffey noted later in the 11:04 a.m. email.

That allowance was memorialized in a footnote to the document released at 6 p.m. that same day. Emails obtained by CPI show that Sandy sent a draft of the footnote to the Defense Department at 1:13 p.m., about two hours after Duffey’s email.

It’s a tantalizing timeline but, ultimately, not necessarily one that relates directly to the call. Sandy testified that his conversations with counsel and Defense stretched from July 22 to July 25. That the footnote was finalized that day, though, is a reminder that the hold was already in the works as Zelensky was mentioning aid to Trump in their call.

Evidence emerged that same day that at least some members of the Ukrainian government were aware of the hold. In public testimony as part of the impeachment inquiry, Deputy Assistant Secretary of Defense for Russia, Ukraine and Eurasia Laura Cooper revealed that her staff had received two emails that same afternoon hinting that Ukraine was already aware of the hold.

At 2:31 p.m., Cooper testified, someone on her staff received an email saying that “the Ukrainian embassy and House Foreign Affairs Committee are asking about security assistance.” At 4:25, another message, indicating that “the Hill knows about the FMF situation to an extent and so does the Ukrainian embassy.”

“FMF” stands for “foreign military financing,” security aid disbursed through the State Department.

Ukraine wouldn’t want the aid halt to be known publicly, as Catherine Croft, a Ukraine specialist at the State Department, testified.

“I think that if this were public in Ukraine it would be seen as a reversal of our policy,” she said, “and would — just to say sort of candidly and colloquially, this would be a really big deal, it would be a really big deal in Ukraine, and an expression of declining U.S. support for Ukraine.”

No evidence has emerged to suggest that Zelensky was aware of the halt in aid during his call with Trump. The earliest indicator that Kyiv knew (as opposed to the Embassy in Washington) was several days later.

Trump knew, of course. And when Zelensky raised the prospect of aid, Trump replied with the request for a favor.

WHAT WAS HAPPENING JULY 25: THE MEETING

As we’ve documented previously, Zelensky was almost certainly aware both that his meeting with the White House was dependent on his launching the investigations Trump sought and what he had to do to get them.

In late June, Zelensky was told that a meeting depended on the investigations during a phone call with then-Ukraine special envoy Kurt Volker, according to impeachment testimony offered by David Holmes. On July 10, Ambassador to the European Union Gordon Sondland twice told Ukrainian officials that the meeting and the probes were linked.

The morning of the call, Trump and Sondland spoke again. In that same hour, Sondland tried calling Kurt Volker, the former special envoy to Ukraine, and, not connecting with him, asked that he call as soon as possible. Shortly thereafter, Volker texted a senior Zelensky aide named Andriy Yermak, again making clear the connection between the probes and the meeting.

“Heard from White House — assuming President Z convinces trump he will investigate / ‘get to the bottom of what happened’ in 2016, we will nail down date for visit to Washington,” Volker wrote.

Volker later texted Sondland.

“Hi Gordon, got your message,” he wrote, “had a great lunch with Yermak and then passed your message to him."

After the call, Yermak texted Volker.

“Phone call went well,” he wrote. “President Trump proposed to choose any convenient dates. President Zelenskiy chose 20, 21, 22 September for the White House Visit. Thank you again for your help!”

True to Volker’s texts, Trump didn’t extend that invitation for a visit in his call with Zelensky until the Ukrainian president had agreed to launch the investigations. It was only after both had been agreed to that Trump said,: “Whenever you would like to come to the White House feel free to call. Give us a date, and we’ll work that out. I look forward to seeing you.”

That also came only after Zelensky was explicit in linking the visit with his promise to conduct the probes.

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What we know and don’t know about Trump’s intentions on Ukraine aid

By Amber Phillips | Published December 23 at 11:33 AM ET | Washington Post | Posted December 23, 2019 |

As House Democrats investigated and then impeached President Trump, one thing they were unable to pin down beyond a shadow of a doubt is that he directly ordered Ukraine’s military aid held up specifically to pressure Ukraine’s president to announce investigations into Democrats.

We know Trump ordered the aid paused this summer, and we know that in a July 25 phone call, he asked Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky to investigate the Biden family and a conspiracy theory about Ukraine interfering in the 2016 election to help Democrats.

The latest and perhaps most damaging evidence that the aid hold and investigations might be linked: A new email that shows that a White House aide told the Defense Department that Trump wanted them to stop the process of giving the money to Ukraine less than two hours after Trump’s call with Zelensky. The Trump administration was forced to release the email this weekend by a documents’ request by the nonprofit news organization Center for Public Integrity.

Here’s what we know and don’t know about whether and how Ukraine’s aid was directly tied to Trump.

WE KNOW TRUMP HELD UP THE AID

He has said as much, confirming Washington Post reporting.

“I’d withhold again, and I’ll continue to hold until such time as other countries contribute,” Trump told reporters in September. The aid was released a few weeks earlier, after Trump was briefed on the whistleblower complaint about his work on Ukraine.

WE DON’T KNOW WHY

Trump’s explanation came after this whole thing became public: He said he wanted to force other countries to do more to help out Ukraine. Before that, officials said they were given no reason for the hold. We do know that his acting chief of staff, Mick Mulvaney, publicly said it was for investigations into Democrats.

Did “he also mention to me, in the past, that the corruption related to the DNC server?” Mulvaney said to reporters in October. “Absolutely, no question about that. But that’s it. And that’s why we held up the money.” Mulvaney later tried to walk back his comments by saying it wasn’t a quid pro quo.

WE KNOW THE AID FREEZE WAS MYSTERIOUS — AND SOME THOUGHT POTENTIALLY ILLEGAL

Congress approved nearly $400 million to help Ukraine fight Russian-backed separatists in a war in their own country. The Defense Department had certified that the money would be put to good use. But then Trump ordered it held up without explanation.

Republicans and Democrats in Congress were perplexed. Sen. Ron Johnson (R-Wis.) even called Trump and asked why it was held and whether it was tied to political investigations.

White House budget official Mark Sandy testified that two of his colleagues resigned in part over concerns about the aid being held up. He was worried it would violate a law that requires congressionally appropriated funds to be spent in a timely manner.

WE DON’T KNOW EXACTLY WHEN IT GOT HELD UP

The timeline of when it got held up is fuzzy. The process for giving the money to Ukraine was going smoothly until June 19. That’s when Trump started inquiring about the aid, after a Washington Examiner article reported on it.

Top officials, including U.S. diplomats in Ukraine, were notified in a July 18 meeting that aid wasn’t immediately coming. The Post’s Philip Bump has put together a detailed timeline of when certain people knew the aid was held up, and the earliest someone had said something was amiss was early July.

But there are unanswered questions about the timing. If some officials said they knew the aid was held up then, why did a senior White House official order the Defense Department to stop it after the July 25 call?

And did Ukraine know about it? A Defense Department official testified that the Ukrainians inquired with her office about the aid on the day Trump talked to Zelensky.

A senior administration official told the New York Times that the timing of the email was coincidental to Trump’s call.

We know people had suspicions about the aid freeze, which they said the Trump-Zelensky call confirmed

When diplomats and national security aides said they heard or saw the contents of the call, either in real time or after reading the rough transcript the White House released, many of them said it clicked that Trump was holding up the military aid for his own personal political benefit.

“President Zelensky had received a letter — congratulatory letter from the president saying he’d be pleased to meet him following his inauguration in May and we hadn’t been able to get that meeting and then the security hold came up with no explanation,” diplomat David Holmes said.

Holmes also said he thought Ukrainians could put two and two together as well, calling them “sophisticated people.”

That’s why this new email is so important. It further ties the phone call, where Trump made his political intentions known, to the aid being held up. The budget official in the email, Michael Duffey, told the Pentagon that Trump himself was focused on the aid and had ordered the hold, and he told the Pentagon to keep it on the down low. “Given the sensitive nature of the request, I appreciate your keeping that information closely held to those who need to know to execute the direction,” he said.

We still don’t know for sure that the aid freeze was tied to Trump’s desire for political investigations

That is why Senate Democrats are calling on Duffey to testify in a Senate impeachment trial, and Sen. Chris Van Hollen (D-Md.) is asking a government agency that helps Congress investigate things to weigh in on whether the aid being held up was illegal.

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McConnell has less power to shape the impeachment trial than Democrats think

By David Super | Published December 23 at 6:00 AM ET | Washington Post | Posted December 23, 2019 |

A vigorous debate has broken out among senators, and House leaders, about how President Trump’s impeachment trial ought to be conducted. In an opening salvo, Senate Minority Leader Charles E. Schumer (N.Y.) sent Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell (Ky.) a letter outlining the procedures he believes the Senate should employ — asserting that subpoenas should be issued to four senior administration officials whom Trump prohibited from testifying in the House’s impeachment inquiry (notably, former national security adviser John Bolton and acting White House chief of staff Mick Mulvaney).

McConnell replied on the Senate floor that Schumer “misunderstand[s] constitutional roles” and flatly rejected his proposals. Then, in an opinion article in the New York Times, Sen. Kamala D. Harris (D-Calif.) accused McConnell of laying the groundwork for “a Senate coverup.” Now, House Speaker Nancy Pelosi (D-Calif.) says she may hold off on sending the articles of impeachment until she’s confident the Senate will hold a fair trial.

This debate is remarkable because McConnell is unlikely to be making the key decisions about the shape of a Senate trial. The contours of the trial will be set by rules dating to the impeachment of President Andrew Johnson, in 1868. Those rules leave answers to such questions as whether witnesses will appear, and when the trial may be adjourned, to the chief justice of the United States, John G. Roberts Jr., who — as set forward in the Constitution — presides over the proceedings. By comparison, Schumer and McConnell are bit players.

To be sure, senators can pass a special resolution setting rules for Trump’s trial, as they did for President Bill Clinton’s; such a resolution is the subject of last week’s skirmishing. But doing so would require more comity than is evident, as it needs a supermajority of 60 votes and there are just 53 Republican senators. Absent a special resolution, on the questions now causing debate, senators must defer to Roberts — or overrule him, if they dare.

McConnell could propose, in advance, a partisan resolution setting rules Democrats dislike, but then Democrats could filibuster. McConnell could try to do away with the filibuster, but that would require the support of almost his entire caucus, including vulnerable senators he needs to protect, who represent states that are increasingly voting Democratic — such as Susan Collins (Maine), Cory Gardner (Colo.), Thom Tillis (N.C.) and Martha McSally (Ariz.). It also would probably doom the filibuster for ordinary legislation, which McConnell wants to keep.

Assuming there’s no special resolution, once the House presents articles of impeachment to the Senate, the Senate’s standing rules make the chief justice responsible for both trial preparations and the trial itself; all motions would be directed to him. The motions could come either from the representatives the House appoints to manage its impeachment case or from the president’s defense lawyers.

To make clear their disdain for the entire process, the president’s lawyers could move for dismissal of the articles before the managers for the House even begin presenting evidence. Early motions to dismiss are allowed in criminal trials where the indictment or information fails to allege an actual crime. But unless Roberts believes the conduct described in the articles of impeachment would not constitute lawful grounds for removal of a president even if proven, he probably would deny such a motion. Whether or not one thinks Trump actually abused his office or obstructed Congress, surely the chief justice would not be prepared to say that no president could ever be impeached and removed for such acts.

The House’s impeachment managers, in turn, could move for the issuance of subpoenas to the current and former administration officials who refused to testify in the House on the president’s orders. Again, it’s difficult to see what basis Roberts would have for refusing to issue such subpoenas. The power to compel unwilling witnesses’ testimony is fundamental to the prosecutorial function, which the House assumes in an impeachment proceeding. (If witnesses still defied the subpoenas, the issue would go to court, probably in an expedited process.)

On either a motion to dismiss from the president’s lawyers or a motion to subpoena witnesses from the House, the chief justice could, it is true, decline to rule and put the question to the full Senate. But declining to rule on such simple questions in favor of McConnell — who has declared his intent to shield the president — would widely be perceived as a hyperpartisan move and would call the integrity of all his decisions into question. Given Roberts’s repeated efforts to preserve the public’s esteem for the Supreme Court as a body above politics, he seems unlikely to take such a step.

Once Roberts ruled on a given matter, any senator could seek a vote of the Senate to overrule him. This would require only a simple majority. Republicans have such a majority — so long as they lose no more than two of their senators. However, voting to overrule Roberts — a staunch conservative appointed by a Republican president and confirmed by a Republican Senate — to short-circuit a full airing of the charges against the president might well make some senators uncomfortable. Between those senators who have announced their retirement — Lamar Alexander (Tenn.), Mike Enzi (Wyo.) and Pat Roberts (Kan.) — and those facing difficult reelection battles (again, Collins, Gardner, Tillis and McSally), McConnell probably could not count on limiting defections to two.

Once the House rests its case, Trump’s lawyers would have to decide whether to mount a defense or to move for dismissal. Again, the decision about dismissal would not belong to McConnell. Granting a motion to dismiss at the conclusion of the House’s presentation of the evidence would be the equivalent of the Senate voting to decide the case in Trump’s favor, and the chief justice probably would allow it to go to the full Senate. Unless more than two Republican senators wanted to prolong the proceedings, the case presumably would end there.

In short, Democrats who complain that McConnell has not committed in advance to acceptable trial procedures fundamentally misconstrue his limited authority. And Pelosi’s withholding of the articles is nonsensical: It’s a bit like the electric company threatening not to send you a bill until you get rid of your television. As McConnell has pointed out, the House gains no leverage by “refraining from sending us something we do not want.” He would welcome the chance to avoid making vulnerable Republicans choose between alienating Trump’s supporters and offending moderates troubled by the president’s actions. The threat of not triggering such a trial — which makes the process look even more tactically political — is more likely to make him dance a jig than to offer any concessions.

McConnell has no reason to agree to special rules giving Democrats more than the Senate’s standing rules already provide. But those standing rules probably would provide for a reasonable airing of the charges against the president. They would force senators to vote in response to a full, public record. McConnell will no doubt be a determined and effective advocate for the president, but he simply lacks the power to turn the proceedings into the farce Democrats fear.

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Biden-Graham friendship, forged in war zones, fractures under the pressures of impeachment and Trump(May Lindsay Graham BURN IN HELL)

By Greg Jaffe and Matt Viser | Published December 21 at 4:44 PM ET |

Washington Post | Posted Dec 23, 2019

Joe Biden and Lindsey O. Graham were hurtling over the Hindu Kush mountains, bound for Kabul and a war that both men knew was veering badly off track.

Biden was two weeks away from being sworn in as vice president and had chosen Graham, who he said had the “best instincts in the Senate,” to accompany him on the trip. Graham, eager to carve out a new role in a changing Washington, jumped at the invitation.

Both men wanted to send a message to then-Afghan President Hamid Karzai — and to their fellow Americans — that the 2008 election was behind them, and that Republicans and Democrats were now united in their resolve to arrest the long-neglected Afghanistan war’s decline.

“The campaign is over,” Graham said, “but the war is not.”

Nearly 11 years, two presidential elections and a historic presidential impeachment hearing have passed since Biden and the Republican senator from South Carolina flew off together to Kabul. Today their friendship, their war zone trip and its bitter aftermath offers a view into how two of the most prominent politicians of their era have tried to adapt to a changing Washington, a norm-breaking presidency and the country’s rancorous politics. The pressures have tested their ideals, their friendship and, at times, their faith in their country.

As impeachment shifts to the Senate, the two men seem to be on a collision course.

Graham’s attacks threaten not only their friendship but also the very rationale of Biden’s Democratic presidential campaign, one that promises to return the country to a less partisan time — an era when Biden could work with Republicans as partners and friends. It’s a vision that even some in his own party dismiss as naive. If Biden can’t break through with Graham, critics wondered, what chance does he have with other Republicans?

Last month, in an attempt to shift attention away from President Trump’s alleged misdeeds in Ukraine, Graham asked the State Department for materials related to Hunter Biden’s work for a Ukrainian energy company. He also demanded the declassification of transcripts of calls between the elder Biden and Ukrainian officials.

Only a few weeks earlier, Graham said he had no intention of investigating the Bidens. “I’m not going to turn the Senate into a circus,” he vowed.

Then, under pressure from the White House, Graham insisted that his relationship with Biden shouldn’t preclude a proper Senate investigation.

The line of inquiry infuriated Biden. “Lindsey is about to go down in a way that I think he’s going to regret his whole life,” the former vice president said, shaking his head.

A few days later, Biden’s frustration spilled out in an exchange with an 83-year-old Iowa farmer who suggested that Biden and his son had acted improperly in Ukraine. “You’re a damn liar!” said Biden, striding toward the man, who held his ground. “That’s not true. No one has ever said that.”

It was, in fact, similar to what Graham had suggested.

In January 2009, such rancor between the two men seemed inconceivable. As Biden and Graham huddled on their plane, the senators pored over CIA reports that showed al-Qaeda was reestablishing training camps in Pakistan’s tribal areas, just outside the reach of U.S. forces. In Afghanistan, the U.S. military and CIA reports spoke to staggering levels of government corruption, mounting Afghan casualties and a resurgent Taliban that was rapidly advancing toward the capital.

Their military plane approached Kabul International Airport, ringed by snow-covered mountains. Down on the tarmac, a clutch of generals and Foreign Service officers waited in the cold. Soon their traveling party would board a Blackhawk helicopter that would whisk them to the presidential palace, where Karzai was waiting.

They agreed that they were going to push the Afghan leader to crack down on longtime political allies and family members who had been looting the country, according to contemporaneous interviews done for Bob Woodward’s 2010 book, “Obama’s Wars.” Neither had much faith that their pressure on Karzai would work.

“I dread this meeting,” Graham said.

“Me, too,” Biden replied.

POWER OF THE SENATE TO HEAL

Five days after their joint meeting with Karzai, Biden and Graham were back in Washington, where Biden took to the Senate floor to bid farewell to the place that shaped his view of the nation and its politics.

There were no female senators when Biden was elected. No computers. No fax machines. By the time he was leaving, there had been 1,900 senators in American history, and Biden had served with 320 of them. “The United States Senate has been my life, and that is not a hyperbole,” he said. “It literally has been my life.”

His speech that day focused on the power of the Senate — and friendships like the one he was building with Graham — to alter the course of American politics and heal the wounds of slavery and segregation.

Biden recalled his bonds in the Senate with three former segregationists: Robert C. Byrd (D-W.Va.), Jesse Helms (R-N.C.) and Strom Thurmond (R-S.C.). From his deathbed, Thurmond asked Biden to speak at his funeral. To many Democrats, Thurmond was an unrepentant racist. To Biden he was a man saved by his service in the Senate.

“Every good thing I have seen happen here, every bold step taken in the 36 years I have been here, came not from the application of pressure by interest groups, but through the maturation of personal relationships,” Biden said.

It was Thurmond’s retirement at age 100 that opened a pathway for Graham’s ascendance to the Senate. In the years that followed, Graham and Biden crisscrossed the globe together with their mutual friend Sen. John McCain (R-Ariz.).

When the Iraq War looked lost in 2005, Biden and Graham traveled to Baghdad, returning home to warn President George W. Bush that the country was on the brink of civil war. Their 2009 trip to Afghanistan had been just as eventful. Over dinner, Biden and Graham hammered Karzai on his failings, the country’s growing heroin trade and his brother’s alleged corruption.

“We can’t come to Afghanistan without hearing about your brother,” Graham told Karzai. When the Afghan president accused the Americans of indifference to civilian deaths, Biden abruptly ended their meal. “This is beneath you, Mr. President,” Biden said. He and Graham stormed out together. Back in Washington, President-elect Barack Obama told reporters that he was drafting Graham as “one of our counselors in dealing with foreign policy.”

This was the kind of politics — collegial, bipartisan, conciliatory — that Biden wanted to celebrate. As he bid goodbye to the Senate, Biden recalled his relationship with one more reformed segregationist, former Democratic senator John Stennis of Mississippi.

In 1988, Stennis had given Biden a prized conference table from his office where he and his fellow Dixiecrats had gathered to plot the demise of the civil rights movement. Stennis had dubbed it “the flagship of the Confederacy.”

“It’s time this table passes from the man who was against civil rights into the hands of a man who was for civil rights,” Biden recalled Stennis telling him. By that point in his life, cancer had ravaged Stennis’s body and cost him a leg. From his wheelchair, Stennis told Biden of his late-in-life conversion and belief that the civil rights movement had done “more to free the white man than the black man.”

“It freed my soul,” Stennis said. “It freed my soul.”

To some, the table would have been a symbol of hatred, a reminder of the men who fought to perpetuate America’s original sin and the racism that still infected the nation’s politics. To Biden, it represented possibility and the transformative powers of the Senate.

SHAPED BY DIFFERENT ERAS

In a dark conference room at the National Guard Memorial Museum, Graham stood to Biden’s right, dressed in his crisp Air Force uniform. It was late June 2015. After 33 years as a lawyer in the reserves, he was retiring. Biden, just two weeks removed from his son Beau’s funeral, had come to help send him off.

A few days later, Graham was touring Iowa as part of his long-shot presidential run. In the back seat of a rental car, he grew emotional as he spoke about Biden. “If you can’t admire Joe Biden as a person, then you’ve got a problem,” he told HuffPost. “You need to do some self-evaluation, because what’s not to like?

“He’s the nicest person I think I’ve ever met in politics,” he continued. “He is as good a man as God ever created.”

Graham’s comments in the back of the rental car came just days after Trump glided down the golden escalator at Trump Tower, launching his presidential campaign with an unprecedented attack on Mexicans and McCain’s heroism in Vietnam.

Graham responded by calling Trump a “jackass” who was “appealing to the dark side of American politics” and had no place in the Republican Party. “He’s a race-baiting, xenophobic, religious bigot,” Graham added later in the year. “I’d rather lose without Donald Trump than try to win with him.”

Graham voted for Evan McMullin, a long-shot independent, in 2016. By 2017, though, he was already acceding to the demands of Trump’s Washington. Graham dined with Trump at the White House and gave the president his new cellphone number. Trump had broadcast his old one from a campaign stage in a fit of pique. He became a regular Trump golf partner and, in what was becoming the most direct path to power and influence in the Trump White House, a cable news defender of the president.

Though they were friends, Graham and Biden had been shaped by different eras. Biden entered a Senate dominated by World War II veterans and the apocalyptic demands of the Cold War. Graham came to Washington in 1995, when American power was at its apex and lawmakers could spend months focused on President Bill Clinton’s infidelities with a White House intern. He was the floor manager during the Clinton impeachment hearings, where he tried and failed to persuade the Senate to call Monica Lewinsky to provide live testimony.

Before his death in 2018, McCain had asked both men to eulogize him. Their speeches captured their contrasting views of America and its politics.

Biden recalled a moment during the Clinton years when party leaders chastised him and McCain for sitting next to each other in the Senate chambers. “This is the mid-’90s,” Biden said. “It began to go downhill from there.”

But at an even stormier moment in American politics, Biden’s eulogy was unapologetically optimistic. “Many of you travel and see how the rest of the world looks at us. They look at us a little naive, so fair, so decent,” Biden said. “We’re the naive Americans. That’s who we are. That’s who John was.”

Graham also praised McCain’s courage and capacity for forgiveness in the wake of his captivity in Vietnam and his presidential defeats. But in eulogizing his old friend, Graham focused on his own and his country’s limits. Unlike McCain, Graham wasn’t a war hero or political maverick who could buck the president or his party on hot-button issues such as health care, immigration and climate change.

“The void to be filled by John’s passing is more than I can do,” Graham said on the floor of the Senate as he fought back tears. “Don’t look to me to replace this man.”

INEVITABLE CONFRONTATION

So far Biden has built his presidential campaign around many of the same “soul of America” sentiments that surfaced in his McCain eulogy. Graham, meanwhile, has moved ever closer to a full embrace of Trump, the president who McCain pointedly banned from attending his funeral.

Until recently, Graham and Biden had been able to avoid a direct confrontation. But Biden’s presidential aspirations and the increasingly contentious impeachment battle have made a confrontation inevitable.

Trump has put Biden at the center of his impeachment defense, insisting that Biden used his influence over U.S. foreign policy to engineer the firing of a Ukrainian prosecutor who was investigating Burisma, a Ukrainian gas company that employed Hunter Biden. There’s no evidence that Biden acted to protect his son or that Hunter was ever a target of the probe. Even as he has described Biden as “a fine man,” Graham has defended Trump’s efforts to dig up dirt on his rival and suggested that Biden and his son might be guilty of wrongdoing.

The Senate Judiciary Committee, chaired by Graham, has no clear oversight role regarding Ukraine, but Graham has asked for transcripts of Biden’s calls with Ukraine’s former president and records of Hunter Biden’s interactions with State Department officials. “I hope there’s nothing there. Reveal the transcripts. Trump released the transcripts,” Graham said in an interview with Fox News Radio last month. “All I’m asking is that somebody look at this line of inquiry. It does look very suspicious to me.”

Biden responded by trying to shame Graham. Asked by CNN if he had any words for his friend, Biden paused for several seconds to think, and replied: “Lindsey, I . . . I . . . I’m just embarrassed by what you’re doing, for you. I mean, my Lord.”

The two men have spent part of the past two weeks pondering the state of their relationship and what it says about the nation’s increasingly bitter politics. “My friendship with Joe Biden, if it can’t withstand me doing my job, it’s not the friendship I thought we had,” Graham said. “Everything I said about him in 2015 is true. I admire him as a person. I think he’s always trying to do right by the country. . . . But we’re not going to allow a system in America where only one side gets looked at.”

As Biden’s campaign bus rolled through Iowa recently, reporters asked what was driving Graham to investigate him and his son. Biden offered a simple explanation: “Donald Trump. Donald Trump. Donald Trump.”

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danbarkerusa · 7 years

Text

Sober Parenting

“I am a survivor.”

This phrase is used in many songs, positive quotes, term for illnesses. It often describes strength after struggles.

I was recently given a gold bracelet from my youngest child with this inscription on the outside: “I AM A SURVIVOR”.

It is so dainty and simple and I was so shocked she got it for me. Well, not really shocked. She loves giving gifts. She recently brought her sister home a shirt with a dog on it that resembled Miller, my “grand-dog” that belongs to my oldest. She has a big heart and enjoys getting things for people. She also likes receiving. What young girl doesn’t?

I am grateful.

I am grateful because I believe this bracelet has huge significance in our relationship, as it is a turning point in our communication with one another. We shared a night a few weeks ago of just talking, crying and purging a lot of emotions such as anger, resentment, and frustration. It led to peace, love, joy and relief.

I will honestly tell you communication has been something I have really had to work on since I became sober.

I was “zero to 100” in a few seconds and aggressive with my conversations most of the time. I was always defensive, pissed off, miserable and all the other synonyms that go along with anger. Sometimes I would clam up and wouldn’t express what was bothering me, good or bad. During those times, I would have no expression and I would not even speak about what was going on. That led to isolation or extremely erratic behavior. I acted in all polar opposites when it came to communication and I had no clue what being assertive meant. I had two speeds: aggressive or passive.

In the beginning, I would go home newly sober and scared. I am also a parent to two daughters who were pretty angry with me. I used to remember praying about it and asking God to give me the strength not to throw in the towel, to listen actually hear what they had to say, and then NOT react, but respond to what I was hearing.

Parenting sober has been one of my biggest challenges. Why?

Well, honestly, I didn’t know how to really be a mom. I resented my mother for most of my life because I had this picture of what she was supposed to be. I guess I watched too many movies. I felt like I didn’t get the attention “I deserved” and the heck with the other siblings. Looking back, I see my character defect of selfishness began at a very young age.

My communication with my mom consisted of yelling and screaming most of my teen years before I moved out at the age of 18. I was mad because she was too strict– yet I didn’t give her a reason to trust me, so that vicious cycle continued for a while. I ran errands or went on needed shopping trips with my grandmother because she and I had that bond. I don’t remember a healthy bond with my mom, with the exception of helping her care for my younger brother and sister, or Saturday house cleaning, or yard work. I know we both liked to get sun and we laid out sometimes.

So as a mother myself, I only knew what I didn’t want to be like. So I thought, “This should be easy, right? Do everything the opposite, right?” Well, not exactly.

I have made my own mistakes. Over the past seven years, I have tried to make up for the times I screwed up the previous ten-plus years. This all stems from shame and guilt and me beating myself up regularly about having been a crappy mom.

As I am writing this now, I remember a time with my oldest (gosh, several times with my oldest) when I just didn’t fit the “June Cleaver” mold. It’s taken a while to earn the trust of both my daughters. It has taken a lot longer than I expected– but then again, I was not on the receiving end of my bull crap, they were. I was giving it, actually slinging it. If I could only go back…if I could turn back the clock. (If I continue on with this, I’ll be back wallowing in self-pity, so enough of this.)

So, where were we? Yes, communication.

The conversations I have shared recently with my youngest have been about some very intimate events in my life. My surviving childhood drama/trauma; my marriages and divorces (yes, plural); my education; my own goals; my fears; my desires and dreams for her and her beautiful sister.

I can’t stress enough how blessed and grateful I am for the gift of sobriety.

When I fall short of what is important, I can look down at this bracelet and know just for today, I am a survivor. I can also grab my two-heart necklace that I wear daily around my neck from my girls, and know I can do this.

I can and will survive. Sooner than later, I will thrive in this mission I am on to help others.

Life is a gift to open every day. It’s called “the present”. Sobriety is teaching me how to communicate, live life on life’s terms, have meaningful relationships, and so much more. All I have to do is keep coming back one day a time! Thank you for allowing me to share my life with y’all…

The post Sober Parenting appeared first on Heroes in Recovery.

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8241845 http://heroesinrecovery.com/blog/2017/10/10/sober-parenting/

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pedrorsmith · 7 years

Text

Sober Parenting

“I am a survivor.”

This phrase is used in many songs, positive quotes, term for illnesses. It often describes strength after struggles.

I was recently given a gold bracelet from my youngest child with this inscription on the outside: “I AM A SURVIVOR”.

I am grateful.

I will honestly tell you communication has been something I have really had to work on since I became sober.

Parenting sober has been one of my biggest challenges. Why?

So as a mother myself, I only knew what I didn’t want to be like. So I thought, “This should be easy, right? Do everything the opposite, right?” Well, not exactly.

So, where were we? Yes, communication.

I can’t stress enough how blessed and grateful I am for the gift of sobriety.

I can and will survive. Sooner than later, I will thrive in this mission I am on to help others.

The post Sober Parenting appeared first on Heroes in Recovery.

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8241846 http://ift.tt/2hC5i3v

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robertgcurtis · 7 years

Text

Sober Parenting

“I am a survivor.”

This phrase is used in many songs, positive quotes, term for illnesses. It often describes strength after struggles.

I was recently given a gold bracelet from my youngest child with this inscription on the outside: “I AM A SURVIVOR”.

I am grateful.

I will honestly tell you communication has been something I have really had to work on since I became sober.

Parenting sober has been one of my biggest challenges. Why?

So as a mother myself, I only knew what I didn’t want to be like. So I thought, “This should be easy, right? Do everything the opposite, right?” Well, not exactly.

So, where were we? Yes, communication.

I can’t stress enough how blessed and grateful I am for the gift of sobriety.

I can and will survive. Sooner than later, I will thrive in this mission I am on to help others.

The post Sober Parenting appeared first on Heroes in Recovery.

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8241845 http://heroesinrecovery.com/blog/2017/10/10/sober-parenting/

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carinaconnor5 · 7 years

Text

Sober Parenting

“I am a survivor.”

This phrase is used in many songs, positive quotes, term for illnesses. It often describes strength after struggles.

I was recently given a gold bracelet from my youngest child with this inscription on the outside: “I AM A SURVIVOR”.

I am grateful.

I will honestly tell you communication has been something I have really had to work on since I became sober.

Parenting sober has been one of my biggest challenges. Why?

So as a mother myself, I only knew what I didn’t want to be like. So I thought, “This should be easy, right? Do everything the opposite, right?” Well, not exactly.

So, where were we? Yes, communication.

I can’t stress enough how blessed and grateful I am for the gift of sobriety.

I can and will survive. Sooner than later, I will thrive in this mission I am on to help others.

The post Sober Parenting appeared first on Heroes in Recovery.

from http://heroesinrecovery.com/blog/2017/10/10/sober-parenting/

0 notes

cristinavpaintings · 7 years

Text

Sober Parenting

“I am a survivor.”

This phrase is used in many songs, positive quotes, term for illnesses. It often describes strength after struggles.

I was recently given a gold bracelet from my youngest child with this inscription on the outside: “I AM A SURVIVOR”.

I am grateful.

I will honestly tell you communication has been something I have really had to work on since I became sober.

Parenting sober has been one of my biggest challenges. Why?

So as a mother myself, I only knew what I didn’t want to be like. So I thought, “This should be easy, right? Do everything the opposite, right?” Well, not exactly.

So, where were we? Yes, communication.

I can’t stress enough how blessed and grateful I am for the gift of sobriety.

I can and will survive. Sooner than later, I will thrive in this mission I am on to help others.

The post Sober Parenting appeared first on Heroes in Recovery.

Source: http://heroesinrecovery.com/blog/2017/10/10/sober-parenting/

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agosnesrerose · 7 years

Text

The 1913 Armory Show: America’s First Art War

William-Adolphe Bouguereau. The Wave, 1896. Oil on canvas; 47.64 × 63.19 inches (121 × 160.5 cm). Private collection.

America has been an epicenter of avant-garde art for a long time, but this was not always the case. The reasons for the rise of the American art world are plural and complex. In part, this rise resulted from a mix of post-World War II affluence, which created collectors, and Cold War politics, which weaponized American modernism and deployed it as proof of cultural superiority. But the American art world’s claim to center stage also rested on America adopting and modifying European avant-garde styles. If, as Serge Guilbaut put it, New York “stole the idea of modern art,”1 it had to first know about modern art. Perhaps no single event marked as epochal a moment in America’s avant-garde awakening as the International Exhibition of Modern Art held at New York’s 69th Regiment Armory in 1913. Tellingly, the Armory Show (as it is popularly known) did not just jolt young American artists into a new dialogue with experimental forms; it also polarized the American public and started what would be a long and loud battle, between people who claimed to be championing the most excellent and advanced artistic ideas, and others who thought those people were obviously, painfully, full of it.

In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, artists were trained at academies, in which idealistic realism reigned supreme. Academic art tended to promote softened, perfected forms and to render the artist’s hand invisible. Many European artists of the mid-1800s rebelled against academic art, but in America at the turn of the century, academic styles and modes of exhibition were still strong. So, in 1911, four young artists who were fed up with the academy—Jerome Myers, Elmer MacRae, Walt Kuhn, and Henry Fitch Taylor—began meeting at the Madison Gallery in New York to discuss new strategies for exhibiting art in the United States.

That group eventually gave birth to the Association of American Painters and Sculptors (AAPS), composed of young anti-academy artists. In 1913, AAPS organized the Armory Show. By this time, the purview of AAPS had expanded to include bringing the newest European art to American audiences. The president of AAPS opened the show with these words:

The members of this association have shown you that American artists—young American artists, that is—do not dread, and have no need to dread, the ideas or culture of Europe. They believe that in the domain of art only the best should rule. This exhibition will be epoch making in the history of American art. Tonight will be the red-letter night in the history of not only of American but of all modern art.2

The members of the association felt that it was time the American people had an opportunity to see and judge for themselves concerning the work of the Europeans who are creating a new art.

So, what would Americans make of this new art, when given the opportunity to “judge for themselves”?

Paul Cezanne. An Old Woman with a Rosary, 1895–96. Oil on canvas; 31.7 x 25.8 inches (80.6 x 65.5 cm). Courtesy of the National Gallery, London.

On display at the Armory Show were more than twelve hundred works of art by more than three hundred artists from the United States and abroad. There were newly minted Old Masters: Cézanne, Van Gogh, and Gauguin were well represented. But the work that captured people’s imagination—and, in some cases, enraged them—was of a more recent vintage. Contemporary avant-garde movements got the most attention, and it was the disorienting intensity and spatial decomposition found in Cubism that was the talk of the town. One painting in particular became almost synonymous with the succès de scandale of the Armory Show: Nude Descending a Staircase, No. 2 (1912), a painting by French artist Marcel Duchamp, who, in later years, would develop quite a reputation for attracting adversarial attention to himself.

Why did Nude stand out from the show and from other Cubist work there? First, its pictorial fragmentation was more violent and jagged than other similar paintings; its lines were closely knitted and overlapping, resembling sketch-work as much as traditional brushstrokes. While other Cubist works of the period stressed the multiplicity of a single moment—which is to say, an artist might render a subject from multiple angles—Nude combined this strategy with a Futurist-inflected temporality, simultaneously representing multiple moments in time. So, it played with at least two different kinds of psychic torsion. In other words, the painting appears to portray a woman at many, various stages of walking down a set of stairs and does so from many, various angles. This way of dealing with time aligns the painting with Eadweard Muybridge‘s (and others’) early photographic motion studies and, by extension, with cinema. But Duchamp combined this almost diagrammatic linearity with strategies of visual obstruction, placing the work uncomfortably between legibility and illegibility: now you see it, now you don’t. In a way, Nude angered people because they understood it too well, but also not enough: what is really frustrating to a viewer is a false start, not a foregone conclusion. The bottom half of the painting contains at least six triangular shapes that can easily be seen as bent legs; the middle section has five ovals that call to mind hip bones. But while you might be able to make out a face in the upper right-hand corner, the angular chaos in the upper left section of the painting cannot be easily synthesized. By rhyming this mindful disorientation with photography and cinema, Duchamp seemed to be saying something about modern life: maybe perception and cognition were changing at the rate of technology. Or the speed of light.

The most famous condemnation of Nude drew on a peculiarly modern metaphor to make its point. Julian Street called Nude “an explosion in a shingle factory.”3 This was by no means the only creative put-down hurled at Duchamp; Nude was variously described as “a lot of disguised golf clubs and bags,” “an assortment of half-made leather saddles,” an “elevated railroad stairway in ruins after an earthquake,” a “dynamic suit of Japanese armor,” a “pack of brown cards in a nightmare,” an “orderly heap of broken violins,” and an “academic painting of an artichoke.”4 Of all these, it was “explosion in a shingle factory”—linking together two particularly modern things, explosions and factories—that stuck and is often used to refer to Duchamp’s painting even today.

While it was the work that got the single most attention, Nude was not alone in drawing heat. The New York Times opened its review of the Armory Show with a few obviously rhetorical questions:

What does the work of the Cubists and Futurists mean? Have these “progressives” really outstripped all the rest of us, glimpsed the future, and used a form of artistic expression that is simply esoteric to the great laggard public? Is their work a conspicuous milestone in the progress of art? Or is it junk?5

Readers wrote to local and city papers, calling the art “nonsense” and declaiming its “amorphous conceits.”6 Gertrude Stein, as a champion of some of the most reviled art, came in for a drubbing many times. One writer complained that Stein’s criticism sounded like a drunk “who is suddenly called upon to make an after-dinner speech.”7 The Chicago Tribune published this poem:

I called the canvas Cow with cud And hung it on the line, Altho’ to me ’twas vague as mud ‘Twas clear to Gertrude Stein8

Theodore Roosevelt, then President of the United States, attempted to be evenhanded, writing in Outlook magazine, “The exhibitors are quite right as to the need of showing to our people in this manner the art forces which of late have been at work in Europe, forces which cannot be ignored.”9 After this brief nod of approval, he went on, “This does not mean that I in the least accept the view that these men take of the European extremists whose pictures are here exhibited.”10 In other words, Americans should keep track of the European avant-gardes, but by no means approve of them.

During the month Nude was on view, hardly a day went by without a story about the Armory Show appearing in the press. As a result, attendance swelled. Numerous writers could not help but compare the show—and whatever you think of the art, you cannot deny a certain aptness in the comparison—to productions by P. T. Barnum. The Armory Show became a circus.

On March 29, 1913, two weeks after the show closed, The Literary Digest published a collection of letters to editors around the country under the title, “The Mob as Art Critic.” [PDF] Some of the letters are astounding, if only in terms of the amount of energy people were willing to put into them. One man, claiming to be a scientist, worked his prose into brilliant contortions, fuming about the scientific language used by artists and critics favoring Cubism. He wrote:

These “sensations” we hear about “reproducing” are impossible of reproduction—even in the mind, still more on canvas—for when they are gone they are gone forever. What takes their place is not a sensation at all but a memory, and a memory is not a sensation. The sensation experienced upon being outside of a good dinner is gone, and it can not be reproduced by remembering it (nor painting its portrait), luckily for cooks. And just as a memory of the sensation—or “thrill”—of a dinner presents none of the satisfactions of the sensation itself, neither do the memories of any other sort of thrills.11

Georges Braque. Violin: “Mozart/Kubelick,” 1912. Oil on canvas; 18.1 x 24 inches (46 x 61 cm). Private collection.

The supreme irony of the passage is that, with its incoherent insistence and repetition and recoding of familiar nouns, it ends up sounding a lot like a poem by Gertrude Stein. The phrase, “What takes their place is not a sensation at all but a memory, and a memory is not a sensation,” could well have come straight from any of Stein’s most impenetrable texts (for example: “You are extraordinary within your limits, but your limits are extraordinarily there”12).

One concerned citizen was kinder to the scientific language being used to describe this modern art. In fact, she thought the art should be renamed “sensationalism . . . not in the popular sense, but in the scientific application of the term.”13 She went on:

For these artists are endeavoring to give a pictorial representation of the physical reaction to sense stimuli, the cellular and nervous reactions which carry the messages of sense perception to the brain. They attempt to diagram the shiver which indicates to you that you are cold; the nerve shock and accelerated heart action which mean fear.14

Armory Show NYC, Interior, 1913. Photo by Percy Rainford

While she granted there was skill involved, she ultimately thought the art should be “more appropriately placed in the lecture-room of a professor of psychology than in an art-gallery”; her ultimate complaint, in the form of a question, was, “But is it beautiful?”15 She thought not. That question would be echoed eighty years later, in 1993, when CBS ran an infamous j’accuse against the contemporary art establishment in a 60 Minutes segment called, “Yes . . . But Is It Art?” The title of segment not only played on widespread public suspicion of the arts (most people would answer, “No, it is not”), but also recalled the ontological vertigo that had overtaken the art world around the time of Marcel Duchamp’s Fountain (1917), an industrially produced urinal he re-christened as an art object.

Coming at a time when the National Endowment for the Arts was gearing up to battle Congress for its very life, that episode of 60 Minutes touched a nerve both in the art world and outside it. America was fed up with contemporary art, and contemporary artists, for their part, were fed up with America. People had drawn the battle lines back in 1913, with the reaction to the Armory Show.

But the story is more complicated than that.

Something interesting happened in the art world during the 1960s, ’70s, and ’80s. The Surrealist concern with the articulation of psychologically repressed desires—such as violent sexuality and sexualized violence—developed into a widespread concern with the articulation of systematically repressed identities: queer, black, Chicano, bisexual, transgendered, diasporic, postcolonial, and so on. The reaction to this art—art that embraced what came to be called “identity politics”—was of a different nature than the reaction provoked by the Armory Show. Many critics during the culture wars actually used formal incomprehension to mask a greater understanding of a work’s real meaning. Critics of, say, queer art did not fundamentally puzzle over what they were looking at. And this is where we are today.

The virulent homophobia unleashed on the National Portrait Gallery’s Hide/Seek exhibit by the Cybercast News Service last November is an illustration of how much the debate about art has changed in the past hundred years. In some ways less insular, contemporary art is also less insulated from the day’s most divisive issues. It feels almost quaint to look back on a time when what angered people about art was that it violated the rules of perspective and of the unity of time and place, or that it unbound color from object. If these battles weren’t always pretty—for they were frequently fueled by class resentment—they still seem, relative to contemporary circumstances, somewhat bloodless.

1. Serge Guilbaut, How New York Stole the Idea of Modern Art (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1985). 2. Milton W. Brown, The Story of the Armory Show (New York: Abbeville Press, 1988), 43. 3. Brown, 137. 4. All quoted ibid. 5. Kenyon Cox, “Cubists and Futurists Are Making Insanity Pay,” New York Times, March 16, 1913, VI, 1. 6. “The Mob as Art Critic,” Literary Digest 46, no. 13 (March 29, 1913): 708. 7. Robert Tuttle Morris, Microbes and Men (New York: Doubleday, Page, & Co., 1915), 261. 8. All quoted in Brown, 138. 9. Theodore Roosevelt, “A Layman’s Point of View,” The Outlook, March 29, 1913, 718. 10. Ibid. 11. “The Mob as Art Critic,” 708. 12. Gertrude Stein, Everybody’s Autobiography (1937; reprint Boston: Exact Change, 2004), 38. 13. “The Mob as Art Critic,” 708. 14. Ibid. 15. “The Mob as Art Critic,” 709.

Editor’s note: This essay was originally published on Art21.org in November 2011.

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