the dreamer trilogy smau part 8/?

part 7

"The sickened flesh grown too aware of itself. Limbs touching limbs. Teeth grinding inside a closed mouth.

Proximity has everything to do with love: I become your face daily a new face. When we walk, the dog seems large or small. My mother mails me a packet of powdered broth.

No words for anything, not even when I was small, on the bench, overshadowed by eaves, pressing my back into the wall of my father’s house. I wanted no one to look at me closely, my body, my face covered before the glory that was always there, glinting. I knew but didn’t know what to call everything I knew what I wanted but was unable to say.

What actually survives the possibility, or impossibility of speaking. Late summer pollen between porch boards.

I heat water. I drink the broth. Would that I had a past within me, I would possess all tomorrows. Born in the shadow of a paper mill, I grew up there in the sulfur, billowing."

"Figure [?]" by Erin Marie Lynch

Cork History | National Heritage Week 2021

by Richard Forrest

As part of National Heritage Week 2021, we take a look back at some of the more interesting history stories discovered by Cork City Libraries’ Local Studies department.

The Botany of the Bohereens

Cork polymath, Richard Dowden, fell very sick to fever at the time of the Great Famine. During a slow recovery he eventually felt up to walks in the countryside near the city. During these he found he had leisure and energy enough for botanical exploration, one of his many diverse interests. This eventually resulted in the publication in 1852 of his “Walks After Wildflowers”, subtitled “The Botany of the Bohereens”. Richard prefaced his “botanical chit-chat” with the beautiful illustration you see here. But who was responsible for it? Well, it was a mystery lady whose name we at Local Studies would love to discover. Richard simply tells us that he had a kind lady friend “to thank for the pretty and tasteful illustrative vignette which ushers in these pages but I may not give her name, dear reader, without hurting her modest secrecy”.

Diddledum Club

Admit it! You’ve always wanted to know what a Diddledum Club was. A folk music band? An Alice in Wonderland Appreciation Society? Well, neither. Local Studies can now assuage your curiosity. A Diddledum Club was simply a savings club in times when money was scarce. Their heyday was before the foundation of the national Credit Union movement and they were especially popular in the run up to Christmas. Indeed, the Yuletide Diddledum Club was the most common variant. Usually a neighbourly-minded individual got the ball rolling by collecting penny subscriptions and handling the paperwork, before releasing funds back to the payees for a spending bonanza. Unfortunately, embezzling opportunities sometimes proved tempting and in 1938, a fowl plucker for a city centre firm was charged with fraudulently converting sums entrusted to her by her colleagues. The court decided she was more of a “muddler” than anything else and had gotten all mixed up. Although witnesses did say she was down in Crosshaven in August (living the high life?) Anxious to defer prison, His Lordship described the accused as “an old woman, a grandmother and not in the best of health”. In a similar case, a defendant was admonished for leaving her clients vainly calling out, “Alice, where art thou?” for their money. Maybe there is a Wonderland connection after all.

The Victoria Hospital – a Snapshot from 1921

This largely charitable hospital on Infirmary Road was established in 1874. One hundred years ago, it had 50 beds and treated 391 internal patients and 2,005 external. It began 1921 £80 in debit but reduced this to £28 by the close of the year. Here we see a photograph of a salubrious looking Children’s Ward. Note the rocking horse and the large toy cow! The Hospital Council had a fair representation of Sirs, Colonels, Ladies and even a Countess in 1921. The Tabitha Guild supplied most of the wants of the children’s wards, including 70 garments and £8 5s. 6d. for further purchases. The Annual Report 1921 has a nice informal tone. It mentions that £32 was spent on the installation of electric radiators and that the absence of floor covering on an upper floor was a source of considerable noise to those below. That problem was addressed with less expenses than expected. Now, time to have a hunt through our collections at Local Studies to see if we can find a photo of a children’s ward in the North Infirmary in 1921.

A Case of What Might Have Been!

Here is one proposal that was mooted when Cork was searching for a downstream crossing of the River Lee. The City was frantically looking for ways to ease traffic congestion and stimulate economic growth and our picture is from a report by a firm of consulting engineers drafted in 1980. The eventual outcome was, of course, the Jack Lynch Tunnel. Just as well, walks along the Marina wouldn’t have been half so pleasant. The Library’s Local Studies department will bring you more of these alternative futures in the near …. future!

John Fitzgerald’s Diary 1793

John Fitzgerald, teacher and convivialist lived on Drawbridge Street (behind today’s Easons) in the 1790s. He had an insatiable curiosity for events both local and international and has left us with an evocative record of his life and times. Here’s what was occupying John’s thoughts this week all of 238 years ago: July 7th: Drank a share of 12 pots of porter at Cotter’s. Paid John Connell, the barber, 2s. 6d. July 8th: A fine warm day. Commencement of the new moon. Bandon races began. Old potatoes 11 d. per wt. and coal 7s. a barrel. John Hely Hutchinson, our M.P., and Sir William Clarke, our Sheriff, are both now fighting in the entrenchments at Vallenciennes. July 9th: Beautiful weather. Met Dr. Orpen on Wandesford Bridge and he told me to walk as little as I could. July 10th: Fine and warm. 500 recruits from Dungannon arrived at Cork for embarkation. Frigates and transports at Cove to take away the 58th and 63rd Regiments. The journeymen bakers striking. July 11th: Three troops of horse came from Bandon to quell the rioters in Limerick. They stayed but an hour to refresh. July 12th: At break of day there were tremendous claps of thunder and heavy rain. Several flashes of lightning. Mr. Sandiford was buried. July 13th: Gloomy sky, slight rain and close. Patty Chamberlain’s gown was stolen. Took mutton broth for my dinner. Drank three tods at Bat Murphy’s with John Baily and Jack Conway.

The Fingerpost

A fingerpost is a traditional signpost consisting of one or more ‘fingers’. Erected in cast iron or wood, the poles were painted black or white and the fingers had black lettering on a white background. It is thought that the oldest in existence is in England and dates back to 1669. It points to Oxford, Warwick, 'Gloster' and 'Woster'. Recommendations from 1921 advised 21⁄2 or 3 inch high upper case lettering and, from 1933, that poles be of alternating black and white bands. Mileage is typically measured to the nearest quarter mile although fifths and eighths of a mile were used in parts of Scotland. Cork’s fine fingerpost example at Douglas shews the city 2 ¾ miles, Passage 4 ½ and Carrigaline 5 ½. A major review of road signage in Ireland was carried out in 1977.Just how old is our Douglas landmark? Well, for a century or more, the post served as the meeting point for the South Union Hunt. Mind, they would look lost on their horses on today’s modern roundabout! A Grand Jury presentment dating from 1845 tells us that road repairs was under way between “the gate of the Douglas Lunatic Asylum and the finger post”. Further back again, the old ballad has it that one of the brave 1798 men, Phil Carty, was tracked when slipping home “to old Donnybrook” and “his bosom bled from the cruel lead, of a well-aimed musket ball”. After that, his body was hung from “the Finger Post, where walks his ghost, that they made his gallows tree”. Though still standing proud and prominent, perhaps the post has already, in fact, gone the way of Phil’s ghost. The current occupant of the historic spot is a metal recreation from 2004!

Follow us on Facebook and Twitter for further Cork related treats from the nooks and crannies of the Local Studies department.

No Shade In The Shadow Of The Cross

Ronan, Blue, and being in love without having sex. Established OT4 feat. the difference between sexual and romantic attraction and Oral Just Not Getting It.

Also here 

Orla asks her one day how she can stand to be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t love her. It’s only when her eyes cut to Ronan, who’s sprawled out sleeping on the sofa because he got a migraine and then kind of carsick on the ride down to Henrietta, that Blue realizes what she means.

Blue doesn’t even know how to respond to her cousin, eyes darting between Ronan’s sleeping face and Orla’s raised eyebrows and the thin line of her mouth, because Orla is so wrong it’s laughable but it also makes Blue want to pull Ronan into her arms and never let go of him again.

“What the fuck do you mean?” she blurts, taking a step toward him. Ronan’s head shifts on the pillow but his eyes don’t open. Orla rolls her eyes.

“He won’t fuck you,” she says simply, “but he’ll fuck the rest of them.”

“He’s gay,” Blue snarls, “of course we don’t have sex. Doesn’t mean we don’t love each other.”

“Sounds like it,” Orla scoffs, and then walks away. Blue stares after her, completely dumbfounded, very still in her mother’s living room and very, very furious, until Ronan’s raspy, tired voice echoes from behind her.

“Blue? Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

He’s half sitting up, propped on his elbows, face still washed out. Blue kneels next to the couch and presses a few fingers to his cheek, watching as his blue eyes lose some of their tension. He’s way less clammy than he was when they first got there, and he looks as well rested as Ronan ever looks. Blue wiggles her way onto the couch and coaxes him into laying back down in her lap, carding her fingers through his hair.

“Just my bitchy cousin,” Blue mutters, tugging at some of Ronan’s hair. Part of her wants to cry, part of her wants to follow Orla through the house and shout at her about the difference between sexual and romantic attraction, part of her wants to drag all three boys into her bedroom so that someone can fuck the frustration out of her and the other two can watch and get each other off.

“You have so many cousins,” Ronan yawns, turning his face into her stomach, “so you’ll have to be more specific.”

“Shut up, Lynch,” Blue says.

It makes Blue feel sick for hours, long after they’ve eaten dinner and gone to bed. Ronan and Adam are curled so tightly together Blue genuinely cannot tell where one ends and the other begins, and Gansey is still and quiet next to her, her head on his shoulder. Blue stares up at her childhood ceiling, feeling Adam’s back against her side, one of Ronan’s big hands against her ribcage, and stews.

The idea that Ronan doesn’t love her is absurd, but people seem to think that because they don’t have sex or engage in sexual activities beyond watching while Gansey or Adam fucks the other means that their relationship is somehow less than. Blue scoffs, biting her lip when Adam twitches and mumbles something in his sleep in response to the noise.

Ronan, who comes to her and puts his head in her lap when he’s too exhausted to sleep and can’t bring himself to disturb Adam, who lets Blue run her fingers through the unruly curls on the top of his head and over the shaved down sides. Ronan, who scrabbles for her hand when he’s overwhelmed during sex, because sometimes the gentleness of platonic touch keeps him from spiraling into emotional meltdown territory.

Ronan, who had spent a week calling out of work in February when Blue had the flu. How gentle he’d been with her, how patient. The feeling of his hands washing her face, watching him in Gansey’s cheesy apron making bone broth because the canned stuff was too salty for her poor stomach to take. Ronan, who presses his face into her back or chest when he gets migraines, either from not sleeping or not dreaming or not drinking water or triggers that they can’t identify. She’s the person who gives him his Aimovig injections every month, without fail, because he only trusts her with that damn needle even though her hands shake when she sticks it in his thigh.

Her Ronan, who quietly seeks out and freely gives affection. Blue thinks about the way his giant hand wraps around her little one when they’re out in public, how fiercely protective of her he can be. The way he kisses her chastely on the mouth when he drops her off at work, the care he puts in to making sure he does her laundry in a way that doesn’t ruin her less than conventional wardrobe. Ronan’s hugs, Ronan swinging her up onto his back after long, long nights at the weird clubs Gansey likes in Boston. Blue rolls onto her side and presses herself up against Adam’s back, tangling her fingers in the waistband of Ronan’s sweats.

“Sargent?”

And, in true “horrifically light sleeper Ronan Lynch” fashion, Blue’s touch jolts him out of his doze. Blue tries to snatch her hand back but Ronan grabs it and brings it to his mouth, brushing a kiss to her knuckles.

To Blue’s humiliation, she bursts into tears.

“Aw, shit, come on Blue don’t cry-” and then he’s disentangling himself from Adam and scooping Blue up into his arms, and Blue wraps her legs around his waist and keeps crying impossibly harder into his bare shoulder as Ronan starts rubbing her back.

“Shhhh. It’s okay, it’s okay- come on, let’s go downstairs so we don’t wake up insomniacs 1 and 2.”

“You’re an insomniac too,” Blue wails as quietly as she can, and Ronan presses a kiss to her head and walks down the stairs with her in his arms. Ronan sits on the couch with her in his lap, rocking gently as she cries. He presses his cheekbone to her hair and rubs the back of her neck with long fingers until she calms down enough to go limp against him, breath still hitching with the force of her breakdown. Ronan cradles her delicately. Blue reaches for him and traces absent patterns on his bare shoulder.

“Wanna talk about it?” Ronan murmurs. Blue nods tiredly, letting Ronan rearrange them on the couch so they’re laying down tangled together.

“Orla thinks you don’t love me.” Blue says, and feels Ronan go very still under her.

“She thinks I don’t love you.” It’s not a question, just a statement. Ronan’s voice is dangerously flat and his arms tighten around her.

“Since we don’t have sex,” Blue says, “She thinks you don’t love me since we don’t have sex.”

“Well that’s fucking stupid,” Ronan says, “I love you, sex or no sex.”

“I know,” Blue mumbles, “She just got in my head and I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

“I get it,” Ronan says, “But Blue, she’s full of shit. I am not sexually attracted to you but I still love you, sweetheart. If I didn’t love you I wouldn’t suffer through that nasty vegan place in Cambridge that you like so much at least once a week.”

Blue laughs. It’s a watery, weak laugh, but it’s a laugh, and she feels some tension ease in her chest. Ronan reaches for the remote on the end table next to his head and flips on the beaten old TV.

“Pick a channel,” Ronan tells her, and Blue has him turn on Parks and Rec, grabbing the tattered old blanket on the back of the couch. They wiggle around until they’re comfortable, Blue basically fully on top of Ronan. He’s over a foot taller than her and he’s wide enough that Blue can lay on top of him without touching the couch, and she giggles, brushing her nose against Ronan’s. Ronan rolls his eyes and snaps at her playfully before kissing the top of her head and tugging the blanket up higher.

“Tell me you love me,” Blue demands sleepily. Ronan scoffs against her temple.

“I love you. Go to sleep, Maggot.”

In the morning Blue wakes up to Ronan frozen underneath her, stiff in the way that he gets when he brings something back from dreams. Adam is leaning in the doorway smiling at them as Ronan’s body relaxes and he holds up what he dreamt. It’s a tiny, glowing stone, a perfect copy of Adam’s eyes, dangling from a golden chain. A tiny crown charm fits snugly against the stone, and there’s a black resin feather next to the crown. Blue gasps when Ronan loops it over her head and kisses her dryly, a brief press of lips to her own in that Ronan way she cherishes.

“For you,” He murmurs, as they slide off the couch. Blue can hear Gansey chatting to Maura and smell cinnamon and coffee, and stands on her tip toes to kiss Adam. Adam slips his tongue into her mouth for a few seconds until she melts against him, then kisses Ronan above her head. Ronan hisses, and Blue giggles because she knows that Adam bit his lip.

“I love it,” she says, sandwiched between Adam and Ronan, “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Ronan says, as they walk into the kitchen and Ronan presses Gansey up against the counter and ducks his head to kiss his shoulder.

“Good morning, Jane,” Gansey says, disentangling him from Ronan and shoving him toward Adam good naturedly to get a hand on Blue, “Sleep well?”

“Yeah,” Blue says quietly, as Gansey presses a mug of coffee in her hand and she touches her new necklace with the other, “Yeah, I did.”

@dionysus-complex tagged me in this, ty!!

Rules: tag 9 people you would like to know / catch up with

Last song: Hares on the Mountain - Radie Peat and Daragh Lynch

Last movie: Pride and Prejudice, I think?

Currently watching: Nothing, really. I watched the first episode of Queen’s Gambit a month ago and I should finish it, but I’m lazy (generally I am really bad at actually watching TV lol)

Currently reading: I just finished The Dovekeepers by Alice Hoffman, and I’ve started reading the Seamus Heaney translation of Beowulf

Currently craving: This one brand of instant noodles with beef broth and picked mustard greens. Also, sushi, as always ;;;;

Tagging: Too lazy to tag anyone this time, so consider yourself tagged if you want to do this :)

Food in Fiction

I’m one of those American kids that grew up with Otter Pops and other sugar-water, artificially dyed and flavored frozen treats. A few weeks ago, however, I bought my first box of Helados-Mexico fruit and cream bars, and my whole world changed. 

Yes - I know - store-bought paletas are nothing compared to the real deal. But damn, do I wish my mom had bought these for me when I was a kid. I’m paleta-obsessed. I’ve never been one to cook (my brother is teaching me how to use the blender), but I’ve been experimenting day after day trying to recreate this new magic (and, as a broke college student, recreate them cheap). Blueberry paletas are currently in the freezer.

Recently, this experience got me thinking: Do my characters eat? What are they eating? Why are they eating that? Were they raised on sugar-water popsicles? Or did they enjoy the finer things in life (like paletas)?

Writing food isn’t restricted to eating it either. Maybe Susan is trying a new recipe for her vegetarian boyfriend. Maybe, at a baseball game, Arnold is flicking mustard into the hair of the guy in front of him. 

Food is so integral in our own every day lives, it just makes sense that it should play some sort of role in our characters’, even if it’s just in the background. So, what can writing about food do for our stories? 

Food can give readers a taste of a character’s personality and insight into their state of mind. Samantha Downing explains in an article for Penguin Random House: 

“Imagine two characters meet at a coffee shop to discuss a topic integral to your story. Maybe one lost a job, or their spouse is having an affair, or maybe they’re having an all-out war with a neighbor. The dialogue may be the most important part of this scene, but it doesn’t have to be the only important part.

“For example, if both characters order the same thing — say, medium lattes — that’s hardly notable. Or if what they order isn’t mentioned at all, it becomes irrelevant. But what if one character orders a plain black coffee, and the other orders a jumbo cinnamon roll with an extra-large salted caramel mocha? And which ordered which? Does the one with the problem order the food, or is it the one who has to listen? Either way, the scene just became a lot more interesting.”

Food can add to world building, give depth to a setting. Maybe you’re a fantasy writer. You’ve probably had the fleeting thought of how trade works in your world. Your cities along the coast likely have access to a vast menu of seafood. But what does it taste like? Does the cuisine lean toward spicy? Saucy? Do they grill the fish or eat it raw like sushi? 

Imagine your assassin sitting down for a meal in a dark corner of a run-down, family resturaunt. The waitress sets down a bowl of a scallion stew. It’s steamy and pungent in herbs. The broth is red with tomatoes. Golden potatoes float near the surface. After a long day of chasing after an envelope, the meal is hearty and welcome. 

James Beard, an American cook, once said, “Food is our common ground, a universal experience.” Food in fiction offers us, as authors, a chance to connect to our readers. Take advantage, and write more food!

For inspiration, check out these books and webcomics that feature food:

The Secret Ingredient of Wishes - Novel by Susan Bishop Crispell

Garden Spells - Novel by Sarah Addison Allen 

Pomegranate Soup - Novel by Marsha Mehran

Cinnamon and Gunpowder - Novel by Eli Brown

Under the Cajun Moon - Novel by Mindy Starns Clark 

The Wedding Bees - Novel by Sarah-Kate Lynch 

Salty Studio - Webtoon by Omyo

Gourmet Hound - Webtoon by Leehama

If you're still doing requests, something reckless, for Tucoeyes? Alternatively, more Confeitor 💖 or both at once heehe

This snowfall, it’s almost a joke. 

What Easterner would expect such wanton weather, the blistering distress wailing its way through wind-torn pines, so far west of the Mississippi? A far cry from the notions of desert plains, this elevation; it doesn’t require your silent watcher’s woe to feel the incongruity of stiff leathers and silk-lined vest, little enough protection from the storm.

“This was eight days. You said seven, Blondie.” 

“Maybe I misremembered.” Gun laid across his lap, fingers twitching. “Maybe something changed- hell, don’t ask me. Just needs time.” 

Time that neither of you- none of you have. Its passage can be measured now in solid lengths, sticks of wood of which there are pitifully few remaining. 

(Death may be prepared for, but there are ways and ways. This one is lingering, slow and not to be considered. Too much like the first one, entirely too much-)

“…maybe I’m not built for this any more.” 

Those are not an old man’s eyes gazing at yours, taunting you across a stage floor with enmity constantly coaxed. They’re young, young enough for this age, and you might nearly yield to the clamorous entreaty matching the one in your own bones…if it wasn’t for knowing it to be equally false. 

(Does Blondie speak to his own shadow? Is there a silent witness there, watching and waiting as Tuco does with you? Perhaps that’s what’s salved your troubled days here, if your murderer stands preoccupied by the same fierce dilemma.)

My partner, he wouldn’t go down so easily.

…but they’re the same man, Tuco

You think so? I’m sorry for you, but I don’t give a shit about that man rotting down at Sad Hill- he wouldn’t have minded my dying one little bit. 

The body tenses, the blood runs more quickly. You think I wouldn’t snap my fingers if I could, to have my mind to myself again?

A long silence. You would. I’d do the same. But we’re both too cautious for that, I think- we won’t go into the night, not easily. 

Does it occur to you, that Blondie can’t be the same as us to even risk this at all with himself-

“Give it up.” Very gently. Blondie’s voice always is. “You can’t manage it, can you? Not hold on to life the way I’ve done.” 

“Pray clarify.” Give nothing away, that instinct is unassuageable. 

“No Latin tags? No sneer?” He breaks off in a cough, a wary consumptive sound. “I did my best for you, Angel Eyes, but if you can’t manage to keep Tuco’s body then never mind. Get out. Quit haunting me- quit haunting us.” 

He grasps at the rosary’s beads as he talks, beads clenched in his fist, and all the weary, soul-deprived hunger of thirty years rises in soundless fear- not again, not again, for the love of nothing and everything not that hollowness again-

(somewhere that does not exist, there is darkness and a fire and a man staring you down in judgement.

“El perdón, Angel.”)

And somehow you stand there still, even after Blondie’s torn away the accursed thing. 

Not without price. Ten, twenty, who knows how many tiny gold-cut wounds, and the blood starts drooling out of him with ready eagerness.  

What the hell-

I told you, my partner wouldn’t go easily. There’s something like pride in Tuco’s voice, hiding beneath the terror. 

It takes a moment to realise how he’s said it aloud, quite unmistakably; and so the truth lies open. 

“Give him back,” Blondie growls. “The partner I remember.” 

“You’ve had your chance. Too late-” 

a sentence not to be completed, when he springs at you with the reckless wild grace of a mountain lion (how many injuries inflicted on each other, in this handful of days? The blurred count fails to resolve into a sure and certain number, throbbing at your memory even while you struggle, nonplussed by blows and kicks when the Remington was so readily to hand- 

of course not, he’ll take us next!

In a calmer moment, you would call that pure hysteria. 

In that theoretical calmer moment, it would be possible to discuss this sensibly with your blood-soaked opponent. To compromise, to stall, at the very least to take up arms and settle this after the faint but certain gunslinger’s code that bids a clean death by bullet and not by teeth and battering- 

but the very ineptitude of it, can that spring from anything from the shrinking desire to avoid undue injury, before the flesh can be held, roped, lynched in the golden chain-

and Tuco’s body is strong enough but too unfamiliar still, too unknowable, at too much of a remove to survive this absurd quarrel unaided- 

the calculation that makes you drop all your defences, leave yourself open at last to your host’s mercy, is in the end the same strong bid for life as all the rest has been; and the trust, if trust it can be called, is predicated on nothing stronger than wind. 

Wind which howls loud enough to drown out each shot, as Tuco empties a six-shooter into his erstwhile partner’s flesh. 

He collapses onto the corpse afterwards, sobbing and spent. Makes no objection when you cautiously venture a movement, to avoid suffocation in the tidal wave of blood. 

Makes no objection a half hour later, when you force the tired body into movement and feed the fire the last few sticks. There’s something lonely about this, in the absence of unbearable tension. Having gauged existence by others for so long, to simply be is as novel as it is unnerving. 

Tuco?

He doesn’t answer, not a word. 

Tuco. I wouldn’t have wished this on anyone else. I won’t wish it on you. 

No reply. Maybe the rosary’s destruction has purged all spirits, left things as they are clean and new. 

Maybe this is all a cunning way to trap you, the semblance of a cabin and close to death. There’s no let-up to that wind. 

Which means death regardless, then; and so much for all this squabbling. No wonder Tuco’s gone. 

But thirty years of loss won’t yield to rationality. Hands trembling and moving slowly, you scoop snow from a crack into a tin pan, set it on the fire to warm. Salt. Pepper. What’s left of the venison, hardly worth eating. 

Do I do this for you, or for myself?

Hunger keeps you awake until the broth’s done, keen and biting; and the slop’s not worthy of the name but it exists, it is immeasurably good, and both the sensation of need and that of satiety are what you needed now, to stay convinced that at the end of all this there is something worth being alive for. 

Tomorrow, perhaps he’ll be back. 

Or perhaps that unburied, thrice-damned Blondie will be. 

Or the wind dropped, and your horse prancing at the door, and the world lying free and open to you once more. 

You sip the soup with pleasure, and steal the poncho to warm your sleep. 

Colonoscopy: Lynch Syndrome my 1st scope was age 25. Best advice, DON'T follow MD prep TIMELINE! Go CLEARS 1wk b4 your scope: broths,rice...A few days on clears PREPs your GI for Rx drink. About 2 days before scope, DRINK Rx. Ensure that you have the softest toilet tissue&wipes. Prep skin like a baby. Slather with Vaseline or buttpaste b/c you don't want to feel sore before GI scope. Sitz bath or bathtub+Good night sleep. NO TWILIGHT! Demand MD knock you out! BRAT diet, Aquaphor+baths post-op.

Thank you❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

The king’s pavilion was near as large as the longhall back at Deepwood Motte

A spider crab was embroidered there, white on a grey-green field. This is just like a man who has stolen an estate which belongs to a family of orphans. Out of its munificent revenues, he gives the orphans comfortable food, clothing, &c., while he retains the rest for his own use, declaring that he

papuci de casa din pasla

is thus rendering to them that which is just and equal.. So, though Alyosha is still so young, I jean coquelindecided to make a match for him. You see I am concealing nothing. “You give her a good wash, Reek?” asked Sour Alyn as they emerged. * * * When the tardy process of the law is too long in redressing our grievances, we of the South have adopted the summary remedy of Judge Lynch—and really I think it one of the most wholesome and salutary remedies for the malady of Northern fanaticism that can be applied, and no doubt my worthy friend, the Editor of the Emancipator and Human Rights, would feel the better of its enforcement, provided he had a Southern administrator. I go to the Bible for my warrant in all moral matters. The king’s pavilion was near as large as the longhall back at Deepwood Motte, but there was little grand about it beyond its size. He reminded Selmy of a rabbit. They are firm in themselves, they cannot be moved. His heart is as firm as a stone, yea, as hard

catalog cercei aur turcia

as the nether millstone. He gave her some encouragement, but thought she had better postpone her petition for the present. ‘Here,’ says she, ‘is a person, a friend, who has turned up. Why not invite him?’ And here she’s been pestering me about you for the last four days. The world will say what nike pegasus 34 hombre sprinter she says. She has such connexions. And what they want more than anything is to push me forward in society. We consider the voluntary enslaving of one part of the human race by another nike mercurial nere e gialle as a gross violation of the most precious and sacred rights of human nature: as utterly inconsistent with the law of God, which requires us to love our neighbor as ourselves; and as totally irreconcilable with the spirit and principles of the gospel of Christ, which enjoin that “all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them.” Slavery creates a paradox in the moral system—it exhibits rational, accountable, and immortal beings in such circumstances as scarcely to leave them the power of moral action. It exhibits them as dependent on the will of others, whether they shall twin set cardigan outlet receive religious instruction; whether they oakley m frame ice iridium shall know and worship the true God; whether 209they shall enjoy the ordinances of the gospel; whether they shall perform the duties and cherish the endearments of husbands and wives, parents and children, neighbors and friends; whether they shall preserve their chastity and purity, or regard the dictates of justice and humanity. Such are some of the consequences of slavery,—consequences not imaginary, but which connect themselves with its very existence. I’m sure she’s mad. The mini melissa picole vidro next time one of yours is slain, take two from each great House and kill them both. There will not be a third murder.”. “A wise woman.” Melisandre rose, her red robes stirring in the wind. “A sword without a hilt is still a sword, though, and a sword is a fine thing to have when foes are all about. Hear me now, Jon Snow. The water was so cold that he could barely bring himself to swallow, and he realized once again how hot he was.. Mormont did the duty, albeit with poor grace. Penny collected her dog and pig and led them both below. Irri insisted that Belaquo Bonebreaker’s flail would prove the giant’s undoing. My handmaids are Dothraki, she told herself. Masloboev was at home. That’s terrible despair in fact, something so grand that we could never dream of it. But you’re a poet, and I’m a simple mortal, and so I say one must look at the thing from the simplest, most practical point of view. The sailors unrolled the tapestry across the floor. When Tris tried to speak, she shushed him, listening. “That’s a warhorn. Two had seen at least forty namedays come and go, he guessed; the youngest was perhaps fifteen or sixteen. We’ll go in and I’ll tell them that you want to stay with them sandalias doradas gioseppo now and to take the place of their daughter Natasha. The difficulty is to determine where a court may properly begin. Merely in the abstract, it may well be asked which power of the master accords with right. I shoved it up your wife’s cunt and she bit it off, he almost replied … but the storm had persuaded him that he did not want to die as yet, so instead he said, “It was cut off to punish me for insolence, lord.”. The stewards began to bring out the first dish, an onion broth flavored with bits of goat and carrot. Not precisely royal fare, but nourishing; it tasted good enough zapatillas de tacos futbol and warmed the belly. Stannis would not have me lie.. If she be not guilty of killing, there is an end of the case. 2. Her nostrils flared. The shape of his skull could be seen under his skin, and his jaw was clenched so hard Asha feared his teeth might shatter. “Fish, then,” he said, biting off each word with a snap. He was no champion, just a dwarf on a pig clutching a stick, capering for the amusement of some restless rum-soaked sailors in hopes of sweetening their mood. As the other spears closed in, the dragon spat fire, bathing two men in black flame. His tail lashed sideways and caught the pitmaster creeping up behind him, breaking him in two. This man is no Blackheart, no Bittersteel, no Maelys. The scene was becoming very comical, but the magnetism of the little red-faced gentleman’s defiant eyes was entirely thrown away. The old man went on staring straight at the infuriated Schultz, and absolutely failed to observe that he was the object of general curiosity; he was as unperturbed as though he were not on earth but in the moon..

26: Rapture

For an angel, a devil must be made. To contrast, to compare, to seduce. 

A more...playful presence, to allow things to progress as they should, as they must, as things could be, as things would be, should things go wrong.

The cultists were derived from a number of places, from a number of people. It’s so tricky to find a cult exactly right, exactly militant, exactly cruel, so many were drawn from many sources, to find the right types, to separate the callous wheat from the insecure chaff, to recruit those who sought power and violence and not merely a sense of belonging. Who valued power over others, and therefore would work well as a set of supposed devil worshippers.

They’re not really, of course; their faith is a constructed thing, put together to bring out the best out of the worst, to make the world collapse in raving lunacy and zealots burning people at the stake. There were so many ideas, so many thoughts, of breaking wheels and wooden horses and iron maidens. Of men named Stake and Lynch and Creek and Wick and Dice and Retch.

Sing a song of flesh and bone in the garden of gore, let your voice join the chorus. Adulate, undulate, invigorate, blessing! The red robes silk and stain against skin stitched shut. Masks of crows and cows and cats and rats set them apart from the goated skull worn on a ringleader’s rot.

Butcher and Baker watch the circus tent, bemused by the weird folk who have taken up residence. The songs call to the dead, to the red, to joyous meat. Six by six, they hexagon the ring, chatting and calling and chanting and bringing forward the performance of a life.

Lion-faced, lipped, with claws under the coat, the cloak, calling a manticore or perhaps a lamassu, though no bulls are present, for Minos had better judgments to call, and the man with stakes in his skin and his bones and jabbing in deep to every joint has a roar he must allow as the echo of elephantine trumpets give rise to the center circle.

Bring down the bats on the deadened skulls, crack them open and let the brains flow like yolk. Crack the shell to be born, coalesce the flesh, scream and wail as you tear from the womb, the tomb, the earthen body of what mothers there might be while the fathers gather and commit acidic baptism.

The ring is the basin and the slurry the child. As any parent should, they give of their own bodies, their own breasts, their own teeth to chew the food and their own fingers to gnaw on in turn as the pile begins to teethe. Coalesce, conglomerate, shift and sift and slug together, forming to an animal bereft of a shell but do not worry, because it will come soon.

You are not present, because you are not present, because the tent is needed for the operation, and the doctor is here. His hands are washed, his gloves are sterile, and a mask fits over his noseless face and his smiling mouth of crooked teeth. Splotches cover his skin, discolored rashes and rakes and bruises and boils, and yet he is capable, still capable, they couldn’t take that from him, and he guides the composition, for this isn’t quite a birth, so much as an apotheosis.

Not yet though. Tehom swirls and seethes and splits and combines, layering onward and onward under a membrane that is film, not flesh, and the stalks poking out spear-like points, like stakes, and the first father feeds himself to the teeth so the shell may form and so to does the second and the third and onward, because a chrysalis is needed for a queen. 

There is weeping and pride and joy, a calling of great things from the gathered cultists. Six for Golgotha, to let her eyes and ears and nose and tongue and heart and intestines form, to sink inside and become truth, as the doctor claps, nodding, the process proceeding as needed.

Wood through the body, rope around the neck. Execution, slow and steady, to brace as bones and wiring, to give, to succeed, to gasp at last and know the breaking of teeth and necks.

Crick and crack and soft sounds, lit flames, babbling streams, water, fire, needed things. To be wet and warm, to fill with blood, to know the world rains sometimes, but homes have hearths.

A chance, a cut, a splitting, a rut, a stream of vomit and bile and sickness, necessary disgust and fear. Worries, anxieties, but joys, and avoidance. Care, careful, don’t be careless. A cauldron overturned where the boiling of bones and brains takes place inside, where the soup readies itself in a mix of stock and broth and loose hairs.

Crack the shell, break the iron, let the beast inside skitter out. Calling them Rapture is what was declared, what was advised, and the doctor welcomes such a thing. A given name is important, though whether they choose to keep it or not is up to the child, though to call this being a child is inaccurate at best. They are far past the larval stage.

A butterfly is a good contrast to a moth, wouldn’t you agree? It’s not quite right, a little too fleshy, but the warmth of autumn in its orange and yellow carries well. Wings patterned with faces drip and drool and weep even as their body bristles with enjoyment, anticipation, and a long tongue pushing down to drink from the slurry as the shell mulches. Laughter and sobs and screams and screams and retching, the symphony of emotion pulses as the rot spreads across the ground from the long, red legs stabbing into the ground.

One nose is not enough, not nearly, so a mass of antennas, of tendrils, of drooping hairs, of semi-solid horns taste the air above eclipse eyes, colors shifting as attention is diverted hither and thither and singing curiosity to all able to hear.

Butcher and Baker wisely decide to take their leaves from the wailing carnival, uninterested in interacting with that nonsense. The ground cracks, and buildings begin to sink.

Brilliant, sunburst wings spread as the big top erupts and meat and mulch shower the carnival. Dawning eyes take in the brilliance of the greater sun overhead, and condemns it for its audacious nature. How dare it shine brighter?

If you ask, Rapture will take you out of the park. They will, they promise. And they hold true to the promise. You’ll just need to sink into their flesh and join as one, another face in the chorus.

They would leave immediately, aiming to spread gospel and decry the vainglorious star, but a howl catches their attention, and they drift down instead, to talk with the interesting gentleman in the forest, whose empty eyes show none of the eagerness he so deeply feels. 

Sing the praises of flesh and gore in a world losing its meaning. Feast merrily and bring your children forth, for the earth ruined belongs to them. 

Sing the dirge of law and lust, for those impure things are left to drown in a slurry of our making. Adulthood flies on wings of fantasy as childish mundanity, reality, is doomed to drought.

Sing a song for the ending days, and hold it true to your heart. Let go, and pick a better sun.

Khanh-Hoa Nguyen stirs a pot of green papaya and pigs' feet soup. The clear broth and pale green chunks of unripe melon are redolent with fish sauce, the way her own mother prepared the soup after Nguyen's sister gave birth.

After her second year at the University of California at Berkeley, Nguyen was spending the summer at her parents' home in Los Angeles, watching her mother prepare big pots of Vietnamese postpartum foods for her sister.

"I don't think I would have known if I didn't go home that summer," says Nguyen, who is now co-editing one of the most comprehensive English language cookbooks featuring traditional Asian foods for new mothers.

For generations, new Vietnamese mothers have eaten this stew, just as Korean mothers have downed bowls of seaweed soup and Chinese women have simmered pigs' feet with ginger and vinegar. The food traditions stretch back for centuries, part of the practice of resting for the first 30 days after giving birth that is common throughout Asia.

For Centuries, These Asian Recipes Have Helped New Moms Recover From Childbirth

Photo: Grace Hwang Lynch for NPR Caption: Dr. Marilyn Wong serves green papaya and pigs' feet soup, a Vietnamese dish believed to fortify new mothers.

hillary clinton is not the fucking president pasta

Guess the fuck what, everybody? Hillary Clinton is not the fucking president! In addition to not being the president, Not The Fucking President Hillary Clinton is not the secretary of state. Not The Fucking President Hillary Clinton is actually not currently an elected official of any kind! Nevertheless, everybody from Kellyanne Conway to California Democrat Dianne Feinstein thinks it’s about time we looked into that whole thing with Not The Fucking President Hillary Clinton’s private email server, you know, that thing the FBI already looked into and determined wasn’t a thing.

Via Politico:

Testifying before the Senate Intelligence Committee on Thursday, Comey said Lynch had asked him to refer to the probe as a "matter" rather than an investigation, an exchange that he said made him feel queasy. 

Asked whether Lynch was providing cover for Clinton, Feinstein said she couldn’t answer.

“I would have a queasy feeling too, though, to be candid with you,” she said on CNN’s “State of the Union.” “I think we need to know more about that, and there’s only one way to know about it, and that’s to have the Judiciary Committee take a look at that.”

SURE, DIANNE. SURE. I would definitely put finding out whether Not The Fucking Attorney General Loretta Lynch interfered a year ago with the FBI’s investigation into Not The Fucking President Hillary Clinton’s emails right up there with America’s current top priority: Figuring out whether The Actual Fucking President Donald Trump is a paid agent of a foreign power hell-bent on destroying American democracy.

I know people can do two things at once. I’m sure the FBI can look into that piddly business of The Actual Fucking President Donald Trump selling our country out to a political enemy with nuclear capabilities and spare an agent or two to nag Not The Fucking President Hillary Clinton and Not The Fucking Attorney General Loretta Lynch about a semantic request that Not The Fucking FBI Director James Comey totally disregarded and in fact admittedly used as an excuse to go in even harder on Not The Fucking President Hillary Clinton, the woman who is not currently president. 

But let’s talk about priorities. Because after finding out whether hostile foreign hackers installed a greedy dipshit of a traitor into the White House, I would say these here United States have one or two other things to attend to before we get down to figuring out whether someone who isn’t the fucking attorney general any more had a conversation with someone who isn’t the fucking FBI director any more about the cybersecurity practices of someone who isn’t the fucking president. Something like maintaining and expanding a health care system that doesn’t literally kill people in the service of enriching the already wealthy comes to mind, or perhaps creating an immigration system that doesn’t exist to keep the private prison industry in business, or -- and really, I’m just spitballing here -- identifying a few key ways we can ensure we’re not sending our grandchildren into a climate-driven extinction spiral that will leave them murdering their peers for fresh water and ratmeat.

Of course, doing any of those things would require work, and change, and coalition-building, and sacrifice, and compromise, and in general not provide an opportunity for the GOP and the Bernie Would Have Won crowd to do what they do best, which is bitch about Not The Fucking President Hillary Clinton all goddamned day and night.

Maybe Senator Feinstein is simply feinting toward giving a shit about this crap for the sake of public appearances. That seems like the kind of weenie bullshit that her party would ask her to pull, especially since her reanimated corpse will probably still be senator when those aforementioned grandchildren are scavenging for cockroaches in an elaborate system of caves beneath the Rocky Mountains. 

But either way -- whether Feinstein’s call for an investigation is a legitimate expression of concern or a glittery show-fart -- it gives anyone who’s looking for it a reason to keep crowing about Not The Fucking President Hillary Clinton’s emails. And from where I’m sitting, a lot of people [stares directly into camera] really do actually have a problem caring both about Not The Fucking President Hillary Clinton’s emails and The Actual Fucking President Donald Trump’s potential collusion with a hostile foreign power. Not The Fucking President Hillary Clinton’s emails were a pointless distraction from discussing the real substance of her policies and political history (much of which legitimately sucked!) during her campaign, and they’re a pointless distraction today. 

What does that have to do with this delicious pile of pasta? Hillary Clinton’s email server and this fucking pasta’s email server are equally relevant right now. They are both as important to the continued and unimpeded operation of the federal government. They both pose the same level of security threat to the current safety of the American people. 

She’s not the fucking president, guys. And neither is this fucking pasta. 

HILLARY CLINTON IS NOT THE FUCKING PRESIDENT PASTA

INGREDIENTS

Penne or rigatoni or whatever

Parmesan for grating

28-ounce can of whole tomatoes with juices

Three cloves of garlic, minced

3/4 pound of pork short ribs

Half a cup of wine

Half a cup of chicken broth

Tablespoon of red pepper flakes

Olive oil

DIRECTIONS

Heat a couple tablespoons of olive oil over medium in a heavy-bottomed dutch oven, and toss in the red pepper flakes and garlic and cook for a minute or two until fragrant. Toss in your short ribs and get a nice sear on all sides, then reduce the heat and brown, with the lid on, for 10 or 15 minutes to release the delicious porky fat and juices. Then dump in your can of tomatoes, breaking them up in the pot. Reduce to a simmer, cover and cook for an hour. Then, dump in the wine. Cook for another half hour. Then, dump in the chicken broth, and cook for another half hour. Lid on if you want a runnier sauce, lid off if you want more of a chunky stew. Cook until the pork meat falls off the bones, which you should discard before tossing with pasta and sprinkling with a delicious grating of parm.

The parm is not the fucking president, either.

BERBERIAN SOUND STUDIO (2012)

Dir: Peter Strickland

UK, 92m

CLUB SILENZIO: PEEL SESSIONS OF MIND

I'm a big fan of films where impressionable protagonists enter a world of images and fictions. The challenge is how to model madness, by what degrees to confuse and clarify. DePalma could do this type of film, fooling with layered placement and identity of the eye—it'd be as cool as this and obvious in its main thrust about madness, but probably not as ambient. Lynch could in a more powerful way. The story is that a shy sound-man goes to work on an Italian exploitation movie, this is to establish him as a creative person who will have to imagine things, and to establish the things he's going to imagine as of some darkness. He is an introvert, so we can have this conflation of inner and outer sensitivity to phenomena. Funny: shy is here equated with unattractive appearance in the main actor. The film is entirely contained on a soundstage and around the studio where the soundtrack is being prepared. The actual horror movie is never seen (except for the opening credits which serve as the credits to our film), always inferred from what we see of the sound-carpet being fitted, the screams and slashing sounds, and this is a crucial point: the horror movie never quite materializes, so there's widespread negativity in reviews. Oh, we get obvious hallucination in the latter stages that I could do without, linked to movie screens as borders of reality — it clarifies too much. But there's something else I liked, simple and inventive. All sorts of sound effects are constructed over the course of the film before our eyes, from ordinary means: melons are slashed, pumpkins are splattered, broth is boiling. The first time we see the effect being recorded, and then an off-screen voice announces what it is supposed to be the sound of, and it's done a second time. It's fun to see on a fundamental level as exposing the kind of unceremonious but inventive technical work that takes place behind cinematic curtains of illusion. But more marvelous is exemplifying the mechanism of that illusion that creates the imagined horror story in our mind — the second time the sound becomes the mental image just described to us. By making it so immediate, it's a powerful exhibit, observable in your own self, of the mind acquiring illusory images — the images become what the off- screen voice announces. Wickedly clever! Because it puts us in the protagonist's shoes, by introducing a disruptive level of imagination. So I think you must see this at one point. Based on his previous film and now this, I have this filmmaker on my short list of talent that I expect he has it in him to be a leading voice a decade from now.

★★★☆☆

What do you think if I told you that Berkeley can accommodate all your dining needs? Do you believe it? We will go to 10 best restaurants in Berkeley.

1. Juanita & Maude

Warm and inviting, Juanita & Maude is the idealized form of the neighborhood restaurant. Chef-owner Scott Eastman takes inspiration from around the world for his New American menu, and whether it’s a Japanese-influenced crudo or an old-school chicken kiev, the flavors feel lively and fresh. Given Eastman’s history as the chef at Berkeley’s Michelin-recommended Corso, you can also always bet on the gnocchi and pastas.

2. Saul's Restaurant & Deli

Whether you’re in the mood for a quick nosh, or just want to pick up some chopped liver by the pound, Saul’s has what you need. Pastrami, corned beef on rye, matzoh ball soup, and pickles, lots of pickles, are the stars of the show, though breakfast does have the allure of challah French toast.

3. Cheese Board Pizza

Opened in 1971, Cheeseboard Collective has since blossomed into a 100 percent worker-owned collective with a cheese shop, bakery and espresso bar, and most importantly, a pizzeria a few doors down. The pizzeria offers slices of the (always) vegetarian pizza of the day for lunch and dinner five days a week (closed Sunday and Monday). Eat it inside while listening to nightly live music, in the parklet out front, on the grassy median of Shattuck Avenue, or take a whole pie or a slice to-go.

4. Chez Panisse

Owner Alice Waters gave California cuisine its foothold in this quirky Berkeley bungalow that opened in 1971. The downstairs is reserved for prix fixe dining, while the newer (c. 1980) cafe upstairs serves a more casual a la carte menu — both feature gorgeous local produce and understated, elegant French technique. Take a whirl through the homey, pristine open kitchen before you leave.

5. Funky Elephant

From the intense spicy feast to the luxurious green curry with steak, every dish on Funky Elephant's small menu is something not to be missed. Indigenous peoples and owners in Bangkok, Nanchaphon Laptanachai and Supasit Puttikaew successfully delivered their Thai-style comfort food to Berkeley in a lovely, but culinary space. Grab a glass of Singha beer to combat the spice and enjoy the welcoming service at this gem.

6. Bartavelle Coffee & Wine Bar

Nestled between Acme Bread and Kermit Lynch Wine Merchants lies Bartavelle, a coffee shop and pub serving some of Berkeley's best daytime meals. From delicious avocado toast to the popular Persian Breakfast (labneh, pickled vegetables, feta lamb, fig jam, and fresh herbs with Acme pizza bianco), each dish is captivating and delicious. During the day, drink coffee and wine from a glass from Kermit Lynch; Come back Friday night for Bar Sardine, when snacks like canned fish and duck liver mousse will come with a special wine list.

7. Comal

A hidden backyard with a full bar and fire pit makes this Berkeley city center gem an ideal place to enjoy guacamole, chips and margarine. Skillfully make classics such as guisado tripe, chicken tinga tacos, and star colorado chile soup on the menu, alongside large format dishes to share. And although margarine is great, look for more creative uses of mezcal and tequila on the cocktail menu.

8. Tharaphu Burmese Street Food

A very good choice when coming here is found in downtown Berkeley. The interior is not frills and cozy, with friendly service. Order great food such as pyay paratha, a pile of fried paratha on lentil curry lentils, with chopped cabbage, mint, scallions, lemons and spicy green peppers. It also boasts hard-to-find culinary examples, like nway tofu, a hearty tofu-porridge noodle dish.

9. Ippuku

This dimly lit and welcoming izakaya features charcoal grilled yakitori and soba, along with a good selection of Japanese whiskeys and shochu. You can choose between each chicken section in the traditional menu or turn off the menu for sectarian tartare. Yes, the custom-designed wooden interior stands out, but don't steal that iPhone. Do not allow images.

10. Iyasare

If you want to calm down, choose to stand in a quiet yard overlooking Berkeley's Fourth Street, or inside the friendly Iyasare dining room for a pleasant lunch or dinner. Beautifully cooked ramen, tempura and fish are on the menu for both lunch and dinner; Don't miss the kakiage tempure, a delicate nest of burdock root, onions, sweet potatoes, embedrom shiitake and optional black tiger prawns lightly fried and served with soy broth.

Above is the top best restaurant house in Berkeley. Have you been persuaded yet? Give us those gorgeous photos.

From : https://wikitopx.com/travel/top-10-best-restaurants-in-berkeley-701325.html

Raise Vegan chats with Andrew Bernstein, Co-Founder & President of Kinder Beauty Box

“The issue of cruelty-free beauty always struck me as an aspect of the animal rights movement where the consumer market hasn’t yet caught up to what a majority of consumers want. What I mean is, when surveyed, even non-vegans are overwhelmingly against the idea of animal testing, and so it feels like a very winnable battle. From the start, our goal has been to make cruelty-free, ethical beauty mainstream with the hopes that we can create real, lasting change in the beauty industry. When I came up with the idea for Kinder Beauty, Daniella and Evanna were the first two people I had in mind to go into this with me, as they’re both strong, dedicated vegan and cruelty-free activists and they both have really engaged audiences on social media. We launched in January of this year and it’s been an amazing ride.” – Andrew Bernstein, Co-Founder & President of Kinder Beauty Box

Prior to launching vegan and cruelty free beauty box subscription Kinder Beauty Box, Andrew Bernstein worked at a large animal rights nonprofit managing their celebrity relations division.  It was in that role that he became friends with Daniella Monet and Evanna Lynch, now his business partners at Kinder Beauty Box. Raise Vegan chats with Andrew about the growing ethical beauty market, consumer awareness and change and Kinder Beauty Box. 

Raise Vegan:  What is your perception of the development in demand for cruelty free and ethical beauty products? 

Andrew: Things are definitely trending in the right direction. We’re seeing increased demand for cruelty-free and ethical beauty products, and bigger players in the space are taking notice and even changing how they do business. Late last year it was announced that CoverGirl was pulling their products from China (where animal testing is mandatory) and has now been certified cruelty-free by Leaping Bunny. This is a huge step and we expect to see this demand increase significantly in the years ahead as consumers continue to educate themselves on this issue.

Raise Vegan: Do you think we are at a critical juncture of awareness that is also helping to fuel not only interest in these brands but also the ethical entrepreneurship occurring in production of more products in line with the vegan ethos?

Andrew: It’s a great time to be an ethical or mission-based entrepreneur. Conscious consumerism is very much on the rise. Vegan and “green” products are no longer considered niche, or just for the Whole Foods crowd. Beyond Meat is now in almost every major grocery chain – and they’re reportedly about to go public with a valuation over $1 billion! For myself and my partners, we all very much want to change the world – that’s what drives us. We’re also entrepreneurs who want to grow our business; we want Kinder Beauty to be a household name. So it’s an exciting time for us in that those two things are not mutually exclusive. We’ve created a business model that allows us to have an exponentially more positive impact on the world around us as we scale. 

Raise Vegan: What has your experience been getting familiar with the vegan beauty brands thus far?

Andrew: As a guy navigating the beauty world for the first time, there’s been a huge learning curve for me. Early on, my partners would  say they want me to find a great vegan blush or highlighter and I’d pretend to know what they were talking about while quickly Googling “what is a highlighter?” Now, I’m becoming way more familiar with different brands and product categories, and even find occasionally complimenting strangers’ choices in eyeshadow or lip liner. It’s been really helpful for me that there are so many great, ethical brands out there. It feels like we could feature a new brand in each Kinder Beauty Box and never risk losing the discovery factor for our subscribers.

Raise Vegan: What are some changes you are looking forward to seeing in the ethical beauty product space?

Andrew: I’d like to see more brands that are not currently cruelty-free make the transition to being 100% cruelty-free. I’d like to see more cruelty-free brands transition to being 100% vegan. And I’d like to see even more innovation in the ethical beauty space. There is so much that can be done with clean, natural plant-derived ingredients, and conscious consumers shouldn’t be limited at all in terms of the quality and variety of beauty products available for them to try.

Raise Vegan:  Do your boxes generally cater to women and if so do you foresee possibly having a box for men or for example a special holiday edition box for men?

Andrew: While we don’t market Kinder Beauty as being just for women, we certainly see a lot more women subscribing than we do men. We’ve talked about doing a spin-off box featuring products for men and it’s something I can definitely see us doing down the road. At the very least, I’d subscribe in a heartbeat!

Raise Vegan: Last year California voted to the sale of cosmetics tested on animals (to go into effect in 2020).  What is your own viewpoint and hope moving forward for similar legislation to be passed throughout the USA?

Andrew: It’s time. As is often the case, California is once again leading the charge on this no-brainer, long overdue legislation – and now legislators from other states need to follow suit. Even in the current charged and tribalistic political atmosphere, I don’t think animal testing can in any way be viewed as a partisan issue. You’d be hard-pressed to find someone in New York City or Little Rock, Arkansas or Omaha, Nebraska that considers themselves pro-animal testing. Even hunters and meat-eaters and people who otherwise find very little to relate to in the animal rights world will tell you that animal testing seems cruel and completely unnecessary.

Raise Vegan: Why do you think that the issue of cruelty free beauty is not something that has quite caught up with the consumer market yet?  As you noted, even non vegans overwhelmingly oppose the idea of animal testing, so why, in your opinion, have we not seen a full ban on it?

Andrew: There are a few reasons why this hasn’t happened yet. Part of it is that, frankly, consumers will too often go with what’s familiar over what’s right. What I mean is, if you walk into a drugstore it can already be annoying to find something in your shade, for your skin type and from a brand you trust. Some will go online to get answers, but even when they do that, they may see a brand is on PETA’s list but not Logical Harmony’s. So is it really cruelty-free? And is it vegan? Shopping for beauty products can be complicated and exhausting, even for those that are passionate and well-researched on the issue. But I do believe that if given the clear choice between a product that checks all the boxes but tests on animals versus a product that checks all the boxes and is cruelty-free, 95% of consumers are going to make the right choice. This is a big part of why we created Kinder Beauty, to take the guesswork out of ethical beauty. We do the research and the curation of high-end ethical products so that our customers won’t have to. In that way, we’re helping to educate our customers on which brands and products are safe to use, and we hope that will affect their long-term shopping habits.

The other thing is that only recently have beauty brands needed to pay attention to all of this. Through social media and with the help of great organizations like PETA and Cruelty-Free International, the issue of animal testing has been brought to the forefront and taken up by a much larger audience. Consumers now understand how outdated and unimaginably cruel animal testing is, and they are starting to demand change. Our philosophy at Kinder Beauty is that if we can appeal to mainstream consumers, if we can in fact become a household name, the beauty industry will have to pay attention and get serious about making cruelty-free the norm. There are other beauty boxes out there, who are not cruelty-free and who have hundreds of thousands and even millions of subscribers. If one of these companies took a stand and said that starting tomorrow they’d only start working with cruelty-free and vegan products, you’d see major brands change their policies overnight. You’d have a lot more CoverGirls… But these other boxes aren’t stepping up to take this on, so we created Kinder Beauty and we’re happy to be the ones to do it.

Raise Vegan: Lastly, how are you enjoying life in Colorado? What are some of your favorite local restaurants and things to do?

Andrew: My wife and I moved to Denver last May, after many years in Los Angeles, and we love it. Compared to LA, Denver is quieter, more scenic, has cleaner air and more affordable housing…and of course a bit less traffic. There’s also greater value here placed on the idea of raising a family and spending time outdoors. That said, we definitely miss our LA friends a lot and we also miss being surrounded by so much great vegan food. We actually used to live across the street from Crossroads in LA, which is considered by many to be one of the best plant-based restaurants in the world. While Denver’s vegan scene isn’t quite as prolific as LA’s, it’s definitely a foodie city and we’ve already found some new favorites. City, O’ City, Vital Root, The Corner Beet and Tony Pho (they make an amazing veggie Pho broth!), to name a few.

Read more about Kinder Beauty Box at Raise Vegan here.

The post Raise Vegan chats with Andrew Bernstein, Co-Founder & President of Kinder Beauty Box appeared first on Raise Vegan.

source https://raisevegan.com/raise-vegan-chats-with-andrew-bernstein-co-founder-president-of-kinder-beauty-box/ source https://raiseveganus.blogspot.com/2019/04/raise-vegan-chats-with-andrew-bernstein.html

Raise Vegan chats with Andrew Bernstein, Co-Founder & President of Kinder Beauty Box

“The issue of cruelty-free beauty always struck me as an aspect of the animal rights movement where the consumer market hasn’t yet caught up to what a majority of consumers want. What I mean is, when surveyed, even non-vegans are overwhelmingly against the idea of animal testing, and so it feels like a very winnable battle. From the start, our goal has been to make cruelty-free, ethical beauty mainstream with the hopes that we can create real, lasting change in the beauty industry. When I came up with the idea for Kinder Beauty, Daniella and Evanna were the first two people I had in mind to go into this with me, as they’re both strong, dedicated vegan and cruelty-free activists and they both have really engaged audiences on social media. We launched in January of this year and it’s been an amazing ride.” – Andrew Bernstein, Co-Founder & President of Kinder Beauty Box

Prior to launching vegan and cruelty free beauty box subscription Kinder Beauty Box, Andrew Bernstein worked at a large animal rights nonprofit managing their celebrity relations division.  It was in that role that he became friends with Daniella Monet and Evanna Lynch, now his business partners at Kinder Beauty Box. Raise Vegan chats with Andrew about the growing ethical beauty market, consumer awareness and change and Kinder Beauty Box. 

Raise Vegan:  What is your perception of the development in demand for cruelty free and ethical beauty products? 

Andrew: Things are definitely trending in the right direction. We’re seeing increased demand for cruelty-free and ethical beauty products, and bigger players in the space are taking notice and even changing how they do business. Late last year it was announced that CoverGirl was pulling their products from China (where animal testing is mandatory) and has now been certified cruelty-free by Leaping Bunny. This is a huge step and we expect to see this demand increase significantly in the years ahead as consumers continue to educate themselves on this issue.

Raise Vegan: Do you think we are at a critical juncture of awareness that is also helping to fuel not only interest in these brands but also the ethical entrepreneurship occurring in production of more products in line with the vegan ethos?

Andrew: It’s a great time to be an ethical or mission-based entrepreneur. Conscious consumerism is very much on the rise. Vegan and “green” products are no longer considered niche, or just for the Whole Foods crowd. Beyond Meat is now in almost every major grocery chain – and they’re reportedly about to go public with a valuation over $1 billion! For myself and my partners, we all very much want to change the world – that’s what drives us. We’re also entrepreneurs who want to grow our business; we want Kinder Beauty to be a household name. So it’s an exciting time for us in that those two things are not mutually exclusive. We’ve created a business model that allows us to have an exponentially more positive impact on the world around us as we scale. 

Raise Vegan: What has your experience been getting familiar with the vegan beauty brands thus far?

Andrew: s a guy navigating the beauty world for the first time, there’s been a huge learning curve for me. Early on, my partners would  say they want me to find a great vegan blush or highlighter and I’d pretend to know what they were talking about while quickly Googling “what is a highlighter?” Now, I’m becoming way more familiar with different brands and product categories, and even find occasionally complimenting strangers’ choices in eyeshadow or lip liner. It’s been really helpful for me that there are so many great, ethical brands out there. It feels like we could feature a new brand in each Kinder Beauty Box and never risk losing the discovery factor for our subscribers.

Raise Vegan: What are some changes you are looking forward to seeing in the ethical beauty product space?

Andrew: I’d like to see more brands that are not currently cruelty-free make the transition to being 100% cruelty-free. I’d like to see more cruelty-free brands transition to being 100% vegan. And I’d like to see even more innovation in the ethical beauty space. There is so much that can be done with clean, natural plant-derived ingredients, and conscious consumers shouldn’t be limited at all in terms of the quality and variety of beauty products available for them to try.

Raise Vegan:  Do your boxes generally cater to women and if so do you foresee possibly having a box for men or for example a special holiday edition box for men?

Andrew: While we don’t market Kinder Beauty as being just for women, we certainly see a lot more women subscribing than we do men. We’ve talked about doing a spin-off box featuring products for men and it’s something I can definitely see us doing down the road. At the very least, I’d subscribe in a heartbeat!

Raise Vegan: Last year California voted to the sale of cosmetics tested on animals (to go into effect in 2020).  What is your own viewpoint and hope moving forward for similar legislation to be passed throughout the USA?

Andrew: It’s time. As is often the case, California is once again leading the charge on this no-brainer, long overdue legislation – and now legislators from other states need to follow suit. Even in the current charged and tribalistic political atmosphere, I don’t think animal testing can in any way be viewed as a partisan issue. You’d be hard-pressed to find someone in New York City or Little Rock, Arkansas or Omaha, Nebraska that considers themselves pro-animal testing. Even hunters and meat-eaters and people who otherwise find very little to relate to in the animal rights world will tell you that animal testing seems cruel and completely unnecessary.

Raise Vegan: Why do you think that the issue of cruelty free beauty is not something that has quite caught up with the consumer market yet?  As you noted, even non vegans overwhelmingly oppose the idea of animal testing, so why, in your opinion, have we not seen a full ban on it?

Andrew: There are a few reasons why this hasn’t happened yet. Part of it is that, frankly, consumers will too often go with what’s familiar over what’s right. What I mean is, if you walk into a drugstore it can already be annoying to find something in your shade, for your skin type and from a brand you trust. Some will go online to get answers, but even when they do that, they may see a brand is on PETA’s list but not Logical Harmony’s. So is it really cruelty-free? And is it vegan? Shopping for beauty products can be complicated and exhausting, even for those that are passionate and well-researched on the issue. But I do believe that if given the clear choice between a product that checks all the boxes but tests on animals versus a product that checks all the boxes and is cruelty-free, 95% of consumers are going to make the right choice. This is a big part of why we created Kinder Beauty, to take the guesswork out of ethical beauty. We do the research and the curation of high-end ethical products so that our customers won’t have to. In that way, we’re helping to educate our customers on which brands and products are safe to use, and we hope that will affect their long-term shopping habits.

The other thing is that only recently have beauty brands needed to pay attention to all of this. Through social media and with the help of great organizations like PETA and Cruelty-Free International, the issue of animal testing has been brought to the forefront and taken up by a much larger audience. Consumers now understand how outdated and unimaginably cruel animal testing is, and they are starting to demand change. Our philosophy at Kinder Beauty is that if we can appeal to mainstream consumers, if we can in fact become a household name, the beauty industry will have to pay attention and get serious about making cruelty-free the norm. There are other beauty boxes out there, who are not cruelty-free and who have hundreds of thousands and even millions of subscribers. If one of these companies took a stand and said that starting tomorrow they’d only start working with cruelty-free and vegan products, you’d see major brands change their policies overnight. You’d have a lot more CoverGirls… But these other boxes aren’t stepping up to take this on, so we created Kinder Beauty and we’re happy to be the ones to do it.

Raise Vegan: Lastly, how are you enjoying life in CO (this is just for maybe some personal background in the intro)?  You moved from CA correct (which part)? What are some of your favorite local restaurants and things to do?

Andrew: My wife and I moved to Denver last May, after many years in Los Angeles, and we love it. Compared to LA, Denver is quieter, more scenic, has cleaner air and more affordable housing…and of course a bit less traffic. There’s also greater value here placed on the idea of raising a family and spending time outdoors. That said, we definitely miss our LA friends a lot and we also miss being surrounded by so much great vegan food. We actually used to live across the street from Crossroads in LA, which is considered by many to be one of the best plant-based restaurants in the world. While Denver’s vegan scene isn’t quite as prolific as LA’s, it’s definitely a foodie city and we’ve already found some new favorites. City, O’ City, Vital Root, The Corner Beet and Tony Pho (they make an amazing veggie Pho broth!), to name a few.

Read more about Kinder Beauty Box at Raise Vegan here.

The post Raise Vegan chats with Andrew Bernstein, Co-Founder & President of Kinder Beauty Box appeared first on Raise Vegan.

source https://raisevegan.com/raise-vegan-chats-with-andrew-bernstein-co-founder-president-of-kinder-beauty-box/