text:
Relying on the priests' potentially corrupt interpretation
Wednesday, August 22nd, 2018
Sociologist Francesca Tripodi takes an ethnographic approach to studying how partisan groups interact with media:
There is a narrative out there, floating around the executive offices at Google and Facebook, lurking in the halls of prominent publications like The New York Times or The Washington Post, and emerging from the mouths of most cable news pundits that "fake news" has ruined democracy. Tied up in this narrative is an accusation that supporters of President Trump were "tricked" into voting for him because Russian bots fed them a steady stream of misinformation. If only, the story goes, there was some way to reach Trump supporters — who, according to a study by the Oxford University Computational Propaganda Project, more frequently like and share "fake news." Why don't they do their research? some bemoan. Don't they check the facts? The assumption: If only they could learn to think critically, accessing, analyzing, and evaluating a variety of sources, then they would be informed voters.
The thing is — they do, and they are. During 2017, I began regularly attending Republican events associated with two upper-middle class communities in the Southeastern United States: a women's group and a college group. [...] At one point during the meeting, the Pastor turned from the Bible to the new tax reform bill, where he encouraged the group to apply the same "deep reading." The group poured over the text together, helping each other decide what it really meant rather than relying on mainstream media coverage of the bill. In that moment, I realized that this community of Evangelical Christians were engaged in media literacy, but used a set of reading practices secular thinkers might be unfamiliar with. I've seen hundreds of Conservative Evangelicals apply the same critique they use for the Bible, arguably a postmodern method of unpacking a text, to mainstream media — favoring their own research on topics rather than trusting media authorities.
Distrust in translation of text also explains why the debate-watching parties I attended favored television stations without pundits, like C-SPAN. They did not need CNN to tell them who had won; they relied on Trump's words to signify that the values they described to me as "faith, family, the constitution, and national security" would be protected. The style of media literacy that I witnessed among Conservative groups helps explain the strategy of several prominent Conservative media organizations. These organizations stress that liberal ideology is formed by disputable claims and emotional appeals instead of fact-based evidence.
Herein lies the problem with media literacy approaches. Based on my data, upper-middle class Conservatives did not vote for Trump because they were "fooled" into doing so by watching, reading, or listening to "fake news." Rather, they consumed a great deal of information and found inconsistencies, not within the words of Trump himself, but rather within the way mainstream media "twisted his words" to fit a narrative they did not agree with. Not unlike their Protestant ancestors, doing so gave them authority over the text rather than relying on the priests' (i.e. "the elites'") potentially corrupt interpretation.
Posted in Policy | 18 Comments »
Sam Fetters says:
The conditions of "Confirmation Bias" and "The Backfire Effect" absolutely contradict your hasty generalization reached herein.
Everyone has cognitive biases, even "Conservatives".
Even if the statement "Rather, they consumed a great deal of information and found inconsistencies" is true (which relies on absolutely no scientific basis), just because one group finds inconsistencies does not guarantee they posses the logic nor reasoning skills to discern which is fact, which is fiction from those inconsistencies.
It can be reasonably argued that often, many of those whom do consume more sources of information, may just get more confused, thereby falling back on their cognitive biases ("The Backfire Effect").
But I reject the very notion that "Conservatives" take in more information.
I identify as neither "Conservative" nor "liberal", frequently engage in deep thought provoking conversation with both, and both claim to sell out information and "balance" that information, yet in my experience, neither group achieves this goal.
I read, a lot, and a lot of varied sources.
Both media of the "left" and "right" are absolutely skewed, highly-biased, and often completely ridiculous. They are more akin to episodes of The Jerry Springer Show than real "news". Both mainly rely on tired old fallacies, rather than thought-provoking information.
Thomas Jefferson found this to be true, as did mark Twain, Ben Franklin, Henry David Thoreau, George Orwell, and countless others.
In regards to "mainstream media", Trump himself continually criticizes CNN (seemingly, as does this essay), whilst praising FOX News.
Here's the grand hypocrisy of that:
CNN is a subsidiary of WarnerMedia, which is owned by AT&T (NYSE: T).
FOX News is owned by FOX Entertainment Group, which is owned by 21st Century Fox (NASDAQ: FOXA).
The largest institutional shareholders, and thus effective controllers, of AT&T (NYSE: T) include:
Capital Research
And others of the largest money-management firms, whom operate collaboratively, forming virtual monopolies amongst the largest "competing" corporations in every single industry.
The largest institutional shareholders, and thus effective controllers, of 21st Century Fox (NASDAQ: FOXA) include:
So, still believe these corporations, and CNN and FOX News are competitors? In "Conservative" and "Liberal" media?
Some 90% to 95% of the media are largely owned, and thus controlled, by the same groups.
The media prints most solely only entertainment.
I've worked in the media, I've worked in politics, and both "Conservative" and "Liberal" media exist solely to sell advertising to their loyal readers, those whom engage in "Bias Confirmation".
The Author here needs to read the following:
Democracy and Political Ignorance by Ilya Somin
The New Media Monopoly by Ben Bagdikian
Thinking Fast & Slow by Daniel Kahneman
The first outlines researh & studies detailing the vast ignorance of both the "left" and "right".
The second outlines "The major media maintain their cartel-like relationship with only
marginal differences among them, a relationship that leaves all of them
alive and well — but leaves the majority of Americans with artificially
narrowed choices in their media.".
The third outlines the central thesis of a dichotomy between two modes of thought: "System 1″ is fast, instinctive and emotional; "System 2″ is slower, more deliberative, and more logical.
Listen to "Conservative" talk-radio, then tell me it doesn't provoke "fast", highly-emotionally charged "thinking".
Listen to Trump himself (or most any other politician, for that matter), and tell me he (they) doesn't provoke "fast", highly-emotionally charged "thinking".
Much like the "liberal" media you choose to bash, just because YOU say something is true, doesn't make that thing true.
I suggest you do some intensive studying of the multitude of logical fallacies, and open your mind just a tad.
Lucklucky says:
Finally someone that reached that journalists are the new priests. The News are the Mass. And Politics the new Religion.
What we are terming "the media" has been lying to us since, oh, I don't know… Maybe the days of William Randolph Hearst? Going back even further than him, perhaps?
I used to be an eager consumer of news–I read every newspaper I could get my hands on and afford, as well as all the newsmagazines and other specialist publications. What I discerned, sometime in my mid-twenties, was that they were all guilty of collusion and distortion on a grand scale. The only thing you can rely on is that if they report it, then there was probably a tiny grain of capital-letter TRUTH somewhere at the core of it all–An incident may have actually happened, true… The interpretation, the context, the "rest of the story"? Nearly all of that was sold right along with the singular raw fact, and the rest was the conjecture and prejudice of the "story", the "narrative", that the journalist and their editors wanted told.
You can rely on some of the raw facts–A girl was killed, in Iowa. The raw fact will get reported, but the choices of which of those facts to emphasize, to run 24-7 on the media outlets…? Then, too, there is whether the "story" will be told by the media, in the first damn place. Pretty white girl, whose victimization makes for sales? Oh, the story will have legs. Hispanic, black, or asian…? Maybe; was her killer a white male? Conversely, if the missing white girl is a victim of one of the protected classes, that story will die a swift death, and will vanish into the memory hole more certainly than one of Stalin's enemies.
Likewise, with domestic violence murders. White, middle-class victim? Oh, yeah… If the narrative can be spun that she was a victim of a white male, then the story has legs. Protected class? LOL… It will be off the front page and unmentioned in the news broadcasts within days.
You can observe the same shit with Gosnell, or with these Islamic freaks down in New Mexico… There's going to be precisely zero coverage of the movie about Gosnell, and that story about the encampment in New Mexico is already vanishing.
The problem with all this is that the news media does serve a purpose. However, that purpose and their credibility has been so damaged by the partisan nature of what they've been doing in the shadows that I'm not sure they'll ever be trusted again; certainly, not for generations.
David Foster says:
Sam F., the AT&T acquisition of Time-Warner didn't happen until June 15 of this year (and the court decision that allowed this to happen is still being appealed by DOJ). Before that TW was a separate public company, trading as TWX. So the political behavior of CNN had nothing to do with AT&T.
David Foster:
While I think you're correct in your details, the real issue is not who owns what, but which cultural sub-element dominates both AT&T and Time-Warner. Management and "talent" both are almost exclusively of the Left; it matters not the details of who owns what. They're run the same way, by the same people, who are putting out the same message…
I don't know how you apply anti-trust principles to entire industries, but we damn sure need to come up with a way to do it. Academia and the media are almost entirely all ran by left-wing "true believers", and have been for decades. Were they not, the distortions that resulted in Obama and the counter-reaction represented by Trump wouldn't have happened.
I think we may well be in a process of backing into tyranny, simply because of the way the Left has abused the power that it accrued. By losing their credibility so thoroughly, the way the institutions of Weimar Germany did, we may really wind up with a demagogue running the show. Trump ain't it, but what might come after him scares the shit out of me…
"Management and "talent" both are almost exclusively of the Left"
This is almost certainly true of the "talent" and the management of the media entities. But the parent companies (for NBC, previously GE and now Comcast, and for Time-Warner, now AT&T) are not media-type people. Quite possibly, the problem is too *little* supervision of the media assets ("as long as they're making their numbers, we'll let them alone") than top-down influence by the investors.
Kirk, if the right does not want to tell its story, there is nothing to do. The left wins because the others do not show up for the battle.
Yara says:
Hey, Sam. Thanks for dropping by.
"(which relies on no scientific basis)"
The belief in the ignorance of experts?
"just because one group finds inconsistencies doesn't guarantee [that] they posses (sic) the logic [or] reasoning skills to discern [what] is fact [from what] is fiction"
To whom, then, should "one group" outsource their thinking?
"It can be reasonably argued that often, many of those [who] do consume more sources of information, may just get more confused, thereby falling back on their cognitive biases"
Do you prefer the New York Times or the Washington Post? or should I get my nightly from the Colbert Report?
"But I reject the very notion that "Conservatives" take in more information"
"I've worked in the media, I've worked in politics, and both "Conservative" and "Liberal" media exist solely to sell advertising to their loyal readers"
Why do they continue operating while losing money hand over fist? How do they continue operating while losing money hand over fist?
If we cannot rely on Isegoria to supply our Official Truth, then where indeed shall we find it?
"How many fingers am I holding up, Winston?"
Lucklucky, perhaps you also think that the blackballing and ostracism of non-left views in academia is accidental, as well?
It isn't that the "right" is not "telling their story", it's that the other side has been engaged in silencing them for generations, going back to the days of Woodrow Wilson. The fact that he and most of the "progressives" came out of academia ain't an accident, nor is the mostly Left composition of the academy we have today.
It is all going to come to a grinding halt, anyway, after the 'eedjit class performs their lobotomy of the STEM portion of the academy. Shortly after, we'll start to see a return to the pre-credentialism world we had back in the mid-19th Century, where engineers not educated at West Point mostly got their chops through experience and working for other, already-successful engineers. Likewise, with doctors, in all likelihood. The AMA monopoly on training them is one thing that's going to have to go, if we're to have the numbers we need, and the affordability to go with it.
You want my honest opinion? We're about to go through a prolonged paroxysm of change, that's going to leave the majority of our dysfunctional institutions entirely disintermediated. Why the hell should a kid take on hundreds of thousands of dollars of educational debt, to get a degree they can't pay the bills with? Why bother, when the information and instructional material is out there for free?
Someone is going to smarten up, and start doing credentials based off of actual accomplishment. Kid runs through all of the Kahn Academy material, takes a test, and bingo-bongo… They've done their math requirements for certification in their chosen field. Likewise, with English and other sciences. About the only lingering thing out there, that I see in the future, is the school laboratory. That, you can't do at home–The rest? LOL… The education industry is in for a shock, when they figure out that what they're offering is valueless, and that the rubes have cottoned on to that, as well.
Here's the thing: Much of what we're doing, ain't working. We're also not doing a hell of a lot to try to understand why it ain't working, and then do anything tangible to fix it.
David Foster,
I really don't see a lot of effect resulting from how we're doing "corporate governance", because the shareholders don't seem to be exerting all that much influence on the direction of the corporations they supposedly "own". If they did, then you wouldn't see the crap we have going on in the media industry, with all the gratuitous waste on propaganda films that never make their money back.
Investors don't seem to get really pissed-off enough to actually do anything, until and unless they're staring bankruptcy in the face–And, even then? It's like most of them are someone in steerage trying to warn the captain of the Titanic that maybe slowing down a little would be a good idea…
We do corporations and big government entirely wrong, in my opinion. We set up these huge bureaucracies that are all too prone to being captured by interests inimical to long-term success, and then when it all crashes and burns, we're sitting there in the wreckage and going "What happened…?". Harvey Weinstein should have been a known quantity, and reined in enough to prevent that whole hubristic disaster from happening. The man was talented, but… Jeezus, what a dysfunctional ego.
The US has this habit of raising people up into positions and then feeding their egos to the point where they're disasters. Most of our generals and admirals are like this–They get so much attention and adulation from the yes-men sycophants they wind up surrounded by that they completely lose touch with reality. Which is why the guys like me, down at the rubber-meets-road level, look up at them in their office suites and go "WTF are you thinking, sir? This ain't gonna work, no way, no how…". And, why the disasters we have ensue, despite there having been many people pointing out the lights of the oncoming trains.
Latest deal with people being tracked by their various and sundry GPS apps, revealing military basing and itineraries? Dude, we were pointing at that as a risk factor back in the early 2000s, and nobody did anything about it until it hit the headlines. This is why I'm convinced that we're either going to have to find a better and more effective way to organize ourselves, or we're all going to drown in the friggin' red tape and dysfunction…
Kirk, the right don't tell stories.
The left instead have a culture of hate that makes them proselytise everyone.
Lucklucky,
I'd frame that as being more that the Left requires a narrative, regardless of whether it is true, and the Right is mostly dependent on facts.
There is a certain immaturity to most of the people I know who profess to Left-ward belief systems; they must have their Story, their narratives, and anything that stands contrary to it is to be ignored or attacked.
The Right-ish folks, on the other hand? They fail to realize the power of the narrative to persuade the median, and rely on what they perceive as self-evident facts.
I think it's a function of my long-held belief that every human being requires a certain amount of irrational belief, or they cannot function. On the right, that need is met (mostly) by organized religion. Since many on the Left have abandoned organized religion in any serious way, they have had to substitute more and more bizarre irrationalities in substitute. My favorite one, I think, was the vehement atheist who was also a fervent believer in the healing benefits of certain specific crystals…
A lot of what passes for Left-wing politics can be analyzed as a substitute religion, the facts of which are taken on as a matter of faith, and held to with similar vigor. It's scary how much irrational and rigid belief a lot of these folks actually have in their politics. An acquaintance of mine was railing on and on about corruption in local government, based on the (mistaken) belief that the perpetrator was a Republican. Two minutes with the phone, and I'm showing him the actual party affiliation. Instant switch to "Oh, I'm sure it's all a misunderstanding…". And, what was truly amazing was my observation that the whole thing was like watching a switch being flipped in his head.
I'm telling you, if we start doing the Turing test on a lot of humans, Graham is gonna be super-disappointed at how few actually pass the damn thing…
Me? I'm probably going to be amazed at how many pass. Human stupidity and fecklessness may be the only thing really infinite in this universe of ours.
A side note.
I've become convinced that modern, public corporations are pretty much "owned" by their employees.
Owners call the shots. Owners get the bennys. Owners get the shaft when things go south.
Stockholders? What individual stockholders there are don't have any power. Funds like Vanguard, etc. make up most of the stock owners. In effect, stockholders lease the stock, hoping for a gain. The funds (and individuals) don't have the time and expertise to call any shots. If they don't like what the company is doing, they bail.
Follow the money. Where do revenues go? Doesn't it make sense that $ would go to "owners"?
Employees make a *lot* more $ than stockholders.
Various governments might get more $ than stockholders. And governments probably have a *lot* more say in what a company does than stockholders. So, if you're looking for who else has "ownership" of corporations after employees, governments are a good candidate. (BTW, it might be argued that governments are "owned" by their employees, too.)
And when things go south, it's the employees who feel it most. The Black Rocks of the world eat 0.001% of their wealth and move on.
Felix,
The truth of the matter is that we have backed ourselves into what amounts to a more-than-slightly Fascist economy, mostly in an absence of thought. Shareholders don't hold enough of a stake in these enterprises to care when the government apparatchiks mandate some unworkable BS like the home loan programs of the Clinton era. So, they don't object, riding the plane into the ground. No skin in the game, really. Responsibility and power to do anything has become diffuse and disconnected from reality. So, nothing gets fixed until it is unrepairable with a minor adjustment.
And, of course, the heavy hand of the State looms in the background, thumb on the scales, picking winners and losers based on the political whims and fads of the moment. Fascist.
Graham says:
Sam F,
I am not so sure it matters whether either side or both is ignoring the corporate structure of the other side's media, or whether there is or is not any difference between being suspicious of the Koch Brothers and of Soros. [I would think it worthwhile to be suspicious of both considering where the Koch bros fall on some issues.]
The whole 'fake news' and ignorance of Republican voters paradigm really depends on the left believing their vision of the world and of their country is the only possible one, therefore their goals are the only possible ones, all others are illegitimate, therefore if you believe stories or pursue policies that contradict those you are either a villain, an idiot, or being manipulated. They are actually generous to so often assume mere idiocy. Kind of them, really.
So contradictions like -"you are stupid for believing Alex Jones" versus "I was intelligent for believing fringe Democratic netroots in the 2000s" or "I was smart to oppose confrontational policies against the RUssians in the 1980s" but "you are stupid to oppose confrontational policies against the Russians" seem to fly completely under the radar.
There's near complete disconnect of goals and expectations as well as of information.
Since many on the Left have abandoned organized religion in any serious way, they have had to substitute more and more bizarre irrationalities in substitute.
You evidently have not been attending service. For a return to moral rectitude, I suggest a few weeks with the Good Bishop Stephen Colbert.
Shareholders don't hold enough of a stake in these enterprises to care when the government apparatchiks mandate some unworkable BS like the home loan programs of the Clinton era. So, they don't object, riding the plane into the ground. No skin in the game, really. Responsibility and power to do anything has become diffuse and disconnected from reality.
This is a logical consequence of, for example, the hedge fund: nanoscopic slivers of ownership spread out across as many entities as is practically feasible. For shareholders to exercise legitimate authority over an enterprise, they must be compelled to possess a stake sufficiently large for them to care, in enterprises few enough that they are capable of caring about.
Adar says:
"Since many on the Left have abandoned organized religion in any serious way"
NOT merely organized but any religion period. Atheists most of them. A pretty good number of them despise religion in any form, Christianity especially. Unless to say JESUS was the first communist.
I've been trying to say that the phenomenon of "religion" is answering a need in the human psyche and/or soul, however you want to ideate that. What a majority of the Left has done is to abandon organized, traditional religion and belief, substituting the Leftist canon for that.
It's all equally illogical, in terms of belief. The religious believe as a matter of faith; the source of that faith is the received wisdom they gathered in from their elders and society. Hardly anyone out there has experienced the supernatural aspect of religious belief; those who have, are arguably mistaken and/or deluded, thinking the voices in their heads are those of God and/or the angels. I'm not gonna render a verdict on that, but the fact is, I've never experienced anything that would either point to or reinforce the religious teachings I had as a kid. It's all faith; all the way down.
Similarly, the Left? LOL… They're more like the people they disdain and mock, oblivious to the fact that the belief system they follow is equally evidence-free. You can't point to a single large- or small-scale example of socialism working. But, they still believe in it, ignoring the failures, insisting that it will only take proper implementation to work. Empirical evidence to the contrary.
The majority of Leftist thought is purest faith-based bullshit. The Marxist canon is full of theories that don't work, but it is studied as though it were the writ of some bearded god, delivered by one of his prophets. You can't even discuss anything with the majority of adherents; they block you out, precisely as the most fervent Southern Baptists will when you bring up issues of their faith.
It's well past time to start evaluating Leftism as either a religion or mental illness; it ceased being a political/philosophical issue decades ago.


Throwing his weight behind fostering cooperative federalism, RBI Governor Shaktikanta Das on Tuesday said state finance commissions (SFCs) should be constituted for every five years.
Speaking at the book launch of 'Indian Fiscal Federalism' authored by former RBI Governor YV Reddy and GR Reddy, Das said decentralisation works better when power and functions are delegated based on which tier of governance is best suited to fulfil the responsibility.
He also noted that the constitution has provided for delegation of certain functions to the urban and rural local bodies.
"It is essential that State Finance Commissions are constituted every five years… and arrangements are made for their robust functioning," he said.
Das in speech highlighted three components, which are key to India's federal system from fiscal perspective. First, Article 1 of the Constitution states that India, that is Bharat, shall be a union of states. Second, the Seventh Schedule of the Constitution allocates subjects to the Union and the States under different Lists, with overlapping functions contained in a separate Concurrent List. Third, Article 280 of the Constitution mandates formation of the Finance Commission every five years to recommend vertical and horizontal devolution of net central taxes and various other grants.
The governor added that cooperative federalism should not, however, breed inertia. Alongside co-operative federalism, there has to be competitive federalism.
"Over the past few decades, the actual working of these constitutional provisions have generated considerable debate. Successive finance commissions have made efforts to address the emerging issues and challenges, but in a vibrant democracy like India the debate goes on," he added.
He said that there has to be continuity and change between finance commissions and there is a need to give permanent status to these commissions.
Talking about geopolitical concerns in the country, Das said such risks have necessitated higher expenditure on defence and internal security, adding natural calamities and disasters have called for expenditure on relief and rehabilitation. But aspirations of public have made sure that governments spend more on developmental programmes, he asserted.
Sharing his thoughts on the GST Council, he said the committee is functioning on the principle of shared sovereignty. The challenge for the council now is to realise the full potential of GST for increasing tax-GDP ratio and work on other areas of our economy.
Das also said that recent initiatives in fostering cooperative federalism have opened new chapters of cooperation between the Centre and the states.
"Over the past several decades, finance commissions have adopted different approaches with regard to principles of tax devolution, grants to be given to states and fiscal consolidation issues. While at one level, there has to be a framework for fresh and innovative thinking by every finance commission, at another level, there is a need to ensure broad consistency between finance commissions so that there is some degree of certainty in the flow of funds, especially to the states. This has become even more critical in the post GST scenario," he added.


As I understand, the compression is not latency-sensitive, i.e. if we get it done 30 seconds or 1 minute later, nobody really minds, but if we process 10000 packets 200 ms slower, that materially affects user experience. Also, I think if you do not set the thread priority, modern schedulers may assume that because it runs infrequently, the compression task is a "foreground" or "interactive" task and the actual cell relaying is a "background" task that may be slowed down to minimize user impact, exactly the opposite of what we want.
Therefore, this should improve single-CPU relay performance (and multi-CPU relay performance once we implement better multithreading).


As a Scientist with the Fishery Solutions Center, Kendra conducts cutting edge research that drives innovation in fishery assessment and management. Her research focuses on data-limited stock assessment, fishery management and science-based networks of marine protected areas. Kendra advises EDF's international and national teams on identifying gaps in science knowledge at local levels; building knowledge and capacity in diverse areas; and developing comprehensive fishery management approaches that result in better ecological, social and economic outcomes. Kendra has conducted fisheries research in Belize, Cuba, Indonesia, Mexico, the Philippines and the Pacific coast of the United States.
In addition to her role with the center, Kendra is a research associate with the University of California, Santa Cruz's (UCSC) Institute of Marine Science. Prior to joining EDF, she worked for The Nature Conservancy's Global Marine Initiative where she supported research on marine restoration, spatial planning and policy. Kendra assists the Seafood Watch Working Group on Data-Limited Fishery Assessment and advised Fairtrade on methodologies for certifying fisheries as fair-trade.
Kendra holds a Ph.D. from the University of California, Santa Cruz (UCSC), a B.A. in Environmental Studies and a B.S. in Marine Ecology. She is also an award-winning photographer and in her spare time, she enjoys backpacking, knitting, gardening, sailing, biking and scuba diving.


text:
Ghosted Season 1 Review
Nov 20 Greg Wheeler
Bee-Mo
Ghost Studz
Haunted Hayride
Despite launching with an interesting, original premise by spinning the X-Files formula into a comedy, Ghosted struggles early on to find its comedic rhythm and barely recovers until well into the latter period of the season. For a show that advertises itself as a comedy, the bitter irony here is that Ghosted simply isn't very funny. The rapid pace this sci-fi show adopts is relentless too, accentuated by the 25 minute run time for most episodes that aim to squeeze as much content as possible in the shortest time frame possible. Although Ghosted does improve slightly as the series wears on, the issues are simply too numerous to ignore.
At the heart of Ghosted is the over-reliance on its comedic duo of Max (Adam Scott) and Leroy (Craig Robinson) who prove you're only as funny as the script you're dealt. Whilst the two individual actors are genuinely funny people, the script they're given here does their comedic prowess no favours. Of course comedy is subjective and some people may find this show funny but the lack of consistency with the jokes or coherent theme to the sort of humour Ghosted is aiming for makes the show a tough sell. The series jumps between slapstick, awkward and physical humour without ever settling on a dominant theme and this indecisiveness makes Ghosted more difficult to watch than it should be, especially given the decent cast on show here.
The pilot episode jumps straight into the meat of the plot with a tiny snippet of both character's lives before both of them are kidnapped and thrust into the arms of a secret government authority. Tasked with investigating paranormal activity, the pair seek out wild and wacky monsters every week in a script full of jokes and standard visual effects that aren't terrible but also aren't anything to write home about either. Whilst the refreshingly straightforward approach to the plot is certainly a welcome one, the lack of characterisation or back story for any of the characters does hurt the longevity of Ghosted. Its not helped by the fact that many of the jokes are dragged on unnecessarily and outstay their welcome and others simply don't work and come off as cringe worthy.
For all its faults, Ghosted does have a weird quirky charm to it. The plot lines are suitably bonkers and its genuinely intriguing to see exactly what the monster of the week will be in each episode. As the series draws closer to its conclusion, the duo do settle into a more consistent rhythm after the chaotic opening few episodes and the series does improve slightly but to say the beginning of the show is painfully inconsistent and awkward would be an understatement. Ghosted is in such a rush to throw the two lead characters into funny situations and hope they spark comedy gold that they forget about a lot of the key components of a show to make it a comedy worthy of longevity. There's little to no back story or rationale behind many of the actions and coupled with an incredulous plot line, even by comedy standards, make this a tough one to recommend.
Whether the majority of people can stick it out and see this comedy through to its conclusion which, in all fairness, does do a good job of improving from poor to mediocre and eventually settling into a consistent rhythm with its joke is anyone's guess. Ghosted's never truly funny even during its best moments and the fault rests solely at the poorly written scripts rather than the two lead actors who do their best job at trying to elevate what they're given to work with. The lack of logical reasoning or backstory for any of the characters don't help either and with so many issues plaguing Ghosted, it sadly makes it one of the worst comedies this year.
Posted in Comedy, fantasy, horror, TV ShowsTagged 2017, Adam Scott, Additional Dialogue, Adeel Akhtar, Ally Walker, Amber Stevens West, Britt Lower, comedy, Craig Robinson, Crowley Etten Productions, Ethan Drake Davis, fantasy, Fox, horror, Kevin Etten, Tisha French, Tom Gormican

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


Sometimes," Jem said, "our lives can change so fast that the change outpaces our minds and hearts. It's those times, I think, when our lives have altered but we still long for the time before everything was altered-- that is when we feel the greatest pain. I can tell you, though, from experience, you grow accustomed to it. You learn to live your new life, and you can't imagine, or even really remember, how things were before.
She could ask for anything, she thought dizzily, anything--an end to pain or world hunger or disease, or for peace on earth. But then again, perhaps these things weren't in the power of angels to grant, or they would already have been granted. And perhaps people were supposed to find these things for themselves.
He closed his eyes. "I'm so tired, Tess," he said. "I only wanted pleasant dreams for once." "That is not the way to get them, Will," she said softly. "You cannot buy or drug or dream your way out of pain.
Some secrets, she thought, were better told; some were better left the burden of the carrier, that they might not cause pain to others.
I have heard sometimes that men who lose an arm of a leg still feel that pain in those limbs, though they are gone,' said Will. 'It is like that sometimes. I can feel Jem with me, though he is gone, and it is like I am missing a part of myself.
Stop. I don't do you favors, Alec. I do things for you because - well, why do you think I do them?" Something rose up in Alec's throat, cutting off his response. It was always like this when he was with Magnus. It was as if there were a bubble of pain or regret that lived inside his heart, and when he wanted to say something, anything, that seemed meaningful or true, it rose up and choked off his words. "I need to get back to the ship," he said, finally.
Will closed his eyes. He could not hear Jem go, not anymore; he did not want to know the moment when he left and Will was alone, did now want to know when his first day as a Shawdowhunter without a parabatai truly began. And if the place over his heart, where his parabatai rune had been, flared up with a sudden burning pain as the door closed behind Jem, Will told himself it was only a stray ember from the fire.
How could you have guessed?" Miserable though Will was, he felt free, as if a heavy burden had been displaced from him. "I did all I could to hide and deny it. You—you never hid your feelings. Looking back, it was clear and plain, and yet I never saw it. I was astonished when Tessa told me that you were engaged. You've always been the source in my life of such good things, James. I never thought you would be the source of pain, and so, wrongly, I never thought of your feelings at all. And that is why I was so blind.
Comforting someone when they were stricken with loss was something else. It meant commitment. It meant caring. It meant you wanted to ease their pain, and at the same time you were thanking God that whatever the bad thing was that had happened, it hadn't happened to them.
You cannot buy or drug or dream your way out of pain.
"You guessed? You must have been pretty sure, considering you could have killed me." "I was ninety percent sure." "I see," Clary said. There must have been something in her voice, because he turned to look at her. Her hand cracked across his face, a slap that rocked him back on his heels. He put his hands on his cheek, more in surprise than pain. "What the hell was that for?" "The other ten percent."


text:
Sensual brunette with beautiful face getting destroyed by a big black cock
Female Domination, Blowjob
joseph314rokao
Please don't vote unless you are a fan of the series. Sorry for any typos. Enjoy! Chapter 5 Baltoh slowly stirred, being drawn from his deep sleep by a warm wet feeling around his cock. With a yawn and a tired hum, he opened his eyes and looked down, smiling as he watched Selene's beautiful head bob up and down. She had a coy look in her eyes as she sucked hungrily on his semi-erect phallus. He gave a tired stretch and his grin grew wider as her soft tongue slathered the shaft with her lips wrapped securely around the head.
She then released the head and spat on the tip, using it as lube was she stroked him to a full erection with her hand. Baltoh reached down and brushed back a lock of her hair, careful not to scratch her face with his sharp claw.
Selene smiled and reinserted his manhood into her soft mouth, pressing the tip of her tongue into the slit on the head while she stroked the shaft. Baltoh gave another tired groan and his smile widened as she began deep-throating him, taking half of his cock in her soft mouth with the head going past her uvula. After sucking him off for several seconds, Selene took his cock out of her mouth and began stroking it furiously against her bountiful tits. The soft skin felt absolutely incredible against his bulging dick, almost like a dry blowjob.
"Cum for me, baby, cum hard," she purred, spitting again on the head and using it as lube as she stroked him. Granting her wish, Baltoh grunted hard as he shot a thick ropey stream of semen across her breasts. With a coy smile, she smeared his cock against her chest like a soapy sponge, coating her breasts in his cum.
Holding the giant fleshy water balloons, she leaned down and licked off the semen, slurping Baltoh's jizz off her pointing nipples with relish. "So delicious," she whispered before he sat up and kissed her on the forehead. "Good morning," he said, wrapping his arms around her.
"Good morning. How did you sleep?" she asked, kissing him on the forehead in return. "Since I rarely sleep, it was absolutely amazing. In Hell, I always have to sleep with one eye open if I can even find a safe place." "With how hard you rode me, I slept like a rock.
You know, that was actually the first blowjob I ever gave." "Really? I must say I'm that skeptical with the skill you used," he teased. "Well I've always practiced on bananas for when I would find the right guy. Plus my best friend Molly is a master in the art of satisfying men and she is always giving me pointers.
I'll be honest, I think I enjoyed it just as much as you did." At her words, Baltoh leaned forward to kiss her, but suddenly stopped. He could sense something was wrong, something that he had been unable to notice before, but was now as clear as it was pungent, like the smell of a rotting carcass in an enclosed space.
He could sense energy in the air, both Archangel and Demon and vast amounts of them. "Wait, something happened. I need to get outside, now." Baltoh stood on the roof of Selene's apartment building while she sat in her living room, watching the news for anything important being reported. The hybrid was taking several deep breaths, sampling the vast cascade of light and dark energy in the air. As far as he could tell, New York was completely undisturbed and there weren't any signs of battle or destruction, but the thick energy that sat in his lungs like smoke said otherwise.
"It's the weirdest thing, there are hundreds of missing cases being reported and nobody knows anything." Selene said, walking up behind him. Baltoh bit his lip in anger, causing blood to trickle down his chin. "Damn it, just as I thought." "What is it?" Selene asked with worry, leaning against him with her hands on his shoulders.
"There was a battle last night, a big one. Whenever large numbers people go missing at once, it means that the forces of Heaven and Hell faced each other and there were civilian casualties, a lot of them. There aren't any destroyed buildings or craters in the city from last night, which means that the Angels have been hard at work, repairing the damage and erasing memories so that no one would ever know.
However, what they cannot repair is the death toll. Last night, hundreds of people were killed in the crossfire, and no one remembering anything of the battle, they are being reported as missing.
I should have sensed it; I should have sensed the fighting going on as if I were watching it from front row seats.
Of all the times for this battle to be waged, it was when I was the most distracted and focused on other things." He cursed, thinking back to the night of passion. With her eyes filled with sadness, Selene took her hands off Baltoh's shoulders and stepped back, praying that he wasn't blaming her for what happened. "Baltoh!" an angry voice announced.
Without turning away from the city, Baltoh's eyes swerved up as an Archangel descended from the sky, landing beside him with the balance of an acrobat. He was dressed just like Michael with the same white eagle wings, but his facial characteristics were much difference.
While his hair was blond and cut short, he had several piercings through his pointed ears, his eyebrows, one through his lower lip, and three through the bridge of his nose. The Archangel and Selene paid no attention to each other, as he was completely invisible and inaudible to her.
"There is no point in hiding yourself, Gabriel. She knows about me and everything else. You might as well show yourself," Baltoh muttered, drawing Selene's confused attention. With a swear, the Archangel became visible, causing Selene to jump back out of shock and grip Baltoh's arm.
She stared at warrior from Heaven with utter amazement, now having someone to compare Baltoh too other than that brief sight of Abaddon and Rimmon. "It's been a while, Gabriel," Baltoh dryly said without looking at him.
He and Gabriel were in no way allies, but neither were they enemies, only in that they didn't try to kill each other. Gabriel saw Baltoh as a somewhat positive force in the universe, one that he refused to work with or side with, but did not get in the way of. Baltoh saw Gabriel as probably the closest thing he had to a friend, even though they never saw eye to eye and did little more than argue. "Damn it, Baltoh! Where the Hell were you? You come here from Hell to hunt these bastards down, and just when we finally need your help for the first time, you disappear on us!
This is why the other Archangels want you dead, because you never make it very clear which side you are on. And her, what the Hell are you doing with a human?! Do you have any idea how many laws you've broken?!
I shouldn't even be letting her see me but you've made that pointless now!" "The laws of your master mean nothing to me.
I do what I want and the forces of Heaven had better accept that they can do nothing about it and should just be glad that I at least keep myself hidden when I show up here.
She is of no concern to you, so you better not say another word about her. I was busy last night, so tell me what happened." Baltoh argued, holding out his arm between Gabriel and Selene. Selene gripped his arm, almost afraid of Gabriel. The Archangel looked at Baltoh and Selene, switching his gaze between them as the truth became apparent.
"You bastard, I don't know if you really are this stupid or this selfish. A physical relationship with a human woman?! You always make trouble when you come to Earth, but this is unacceptable! Do you have any idea what sort of abomination would be spawned if you were to impregnate her?!" "Silence!" Baltoh roared, infusing so much power with his voice that Gabriel was forced to his knees by the oppressive weight of that single word.
"I warned you not to say another word about her. You would be wise to remember who you are talking to and just what I am capable of. Now what the Hell happened last night?" he ordered, taking the invisible weight off Gabriel.
The Archangel grudgingly stood up. "Gargoyles, super-charged by Demon power and feasting on innocent people. They were far stronger than Angels and they were fast, causing vast amounts of destruction to the city while completely exposing themselves to the public." "What was their purpose? Abaddon has already set the people of this city against each other, such a broad attack would only create fear and unify everyone." "It was a distraction, one that Abaddon was able to take full advantage of…" 12 Hours Earlier: Abaddon faced his small squadron of Gargoyles in a massive abandoned warehouse, all fully-grown and far larger than their natural sizes.
Having spent the last few hours eating and torturing live humans, they had feasted upon more than enough agony and fear to bring them almost halfway to Demon-level power. True, their minds still remained barely developed enough to speak and follow orders, meaning that they were not sophisticated enough to mold their energy into Demon Art, but they could unleash their power in raw unfocused explosions, easily capable of destroying buildings.
"Your mission is simple; buy me enough time to summon more Demons from Hell. To do this, I need you to release as much power as possible so that I my own won't stand out while performing the ritual. Reign terror, slaughter everyone, destroy to your heart's content, and have all the fun you desire. Just keep moving and keep the Angels off my tail. Go!" All but two Gargoyles released gleeful shrieks of bloodlust and took to the air to wreck havoc.
The two that stayed would be guarding Abaddon in case any Angels or Archangels discovered their location. Michael and Gabriel stood on the edge of a skyscraper roof, looking out over the city.
New York seemed particularly calm this night… or as calm as New York could be without a blackout. Michael had recovered from his injury and it was as if he had never received it. "It's been so long since I've seen this world, I never realized how much it has changed," Gabriel hummed.
"Neither did I. The Earth is constantly moving forward, while it seems like Heaven and Hell are always frozen in time." The two friends paid no attention to the third Archangel that appeared beside them. He was dressed in the same white uniform, but he had a darker complexion like that of a Native American, his brown hair hung down past his shoulders, and on his face were numerous tattoos; a pair of wings on his cheeks and a cross on his forehead that stretched down the bridge of his nose just to name a few.
"Everything is quiet to the north, all Angels are reporting silence," he said. "I don't know if that's good or bad. I know the Gargoyles wouldn't act so broadly with us here, but I'm starting to think that it's just a little too quiet.
What do you think, Raphael?" Michael asked the tattooed man. "I don't know; it's impossible to predict the actions of Demons and their ilk." He turned and looked out at the city, just as his friends were doing.
They stood like three sentient statues, all in the exact same positions with the exact same expressions. Minutes went by, and not a word was spoken. A building in the distance suddenly exploded in a geyser of black flames, throwing debris is all directions and sending up a mushroom cloud. Before the Archangels could even move in response, several more buildings were destroyed in other areas, quickly turning into domino lines of destruction.
Down in the streets, people were panicking as they heard the explosions and saw the smoke rising, even in the dark night. Was it a terrorist attack? A huge riot? An earthquake? Whatever it was, it was sending ripples of fear throughout the city. "Gabriel, summon a memory barrier around the city! Raphael, call forth the Angels to begin evacuations!
I'll go investigate!" Michael instructed as he spread his wings and brought forth his sword from nonexistence. As Michael took off towards the nearest explosion, Gabriel and Raphael both cast a spell, with the former raising his hand and the latter pressing his hands down on the ground. "Angel Art: Fading Dream Realm!" Gabriel called.
From his palms, an invisible beam of light up into the sky, eventually stopping high above the city and spreading outwards into a vast dome, encompassing all of New York. From this point, all humans that resided in its space would forget anything that happened within the barrier. What Gabriel didn't know was that while she was currently being intimate with Baltoh, Selene was immune to the spell, due to her proximity to the supernatural figure.
"Angel Art: Saint Beckon!" Raphael chanted. A ripple of light pulsed from his hands, making every Angel in the area able to hear him. "All Angels report! Begin the evacuation of humans within the danger zone! I'm calling for reinforcements!" "Demon Art: Horror Obelisk Summon!" Abaddon called, slamming his down on the ground. Moving as slow as a slug, a Horror Obelisk slowly began to rise from the ground. Having practiced with that first Obelisk, Abaddon was now familiar with the energy manipulation required to bring forth non-sentient objects into the human world from Hell, though it was still like pulling teeth and incredibly slow.
The obelisk was the fourth of a group scattered across the city, just as a little power-boost for the Gargoyles. With all their new power, they would be strong enough to even hold their own against Archangels. Once the Obelisk was summoned, he and his two Gargoyle guards took flight, heading east towards the edge of the city. Like all Demons and Gargoyles, Abaddon and his guards were unable to stray too far from their area of origin where they had crossed over from Hell.
Even though they had crossed over through nonconventional means and not summoned, their supernatural jetlag was only lessened, meaning that they could move at far greater distances.
The farther they could get from the forces of Heaven, the better their chances were of being unnoticed. Moving with ungodly speed, they flew to the absolute limit of their roaming reach. Believing that he was standing in the best possible spot to ensure his safety, Abaddon smiled and cracked his fingers.
This was the real test, summoning Horror Obelisks was one thing, but this was a whole other league. Abaddon slammed his hand onto the ground, having dredged up his power to its maximum level.
"Demon Art: Conjuring Necropolis Summoning!" Michael soared across New York City with his claymore in hand, zeroing in on the nearest line of explosions. The energy he could sense from the one causing the destruction was incredibly large, almost large enough to be a Demon. In his heart, Michael prayed that it really was a Demon, because if something as common as a Gargoyle could reach this level of power, than the situation was far worse than he imagined.
The building next to Michael was suddenly blown to smithereens in a twisting maw of black fire, granting him only enough time to become intangible before rubble rained down on the surrounding area, crushing everything without cover. Looking through the storm of debris, Michael spotted the Gargoyle, shooting down the street and firing a miniature Dark Pulse from between its jaws, the signature move of its kind. "Angel Art: Crusading Canter!" Moving faster than a bullet, he zipped over to the Gargoyle with his sword raised, about to deliver an instant kill.
With supernatural reaction speed, the creature turned around and blocked Michael's sword with its claws, channeling its energy to the bony razors to protect them from the sword's holy steel. The Gargoyle opened its jaws and black whirlpool of energy could be seen charging in the back of its throat.
With an ear-jarring hum, the narrow blast was released, nearly striking Michael pointblank if he hadn't caught the narrow beam with his hand. Shadow energy streamed out from between Michael's fingers as he pushed against the blast. Normally something like this would be child's play, but the Gargoyle's power levels were off the chart! With a deep battle cry, Michael forced the black back into the Gargoyle's mouth, causing the Hell-spawn to explode like a water melon under the blow of a hammer from the pressure of it's own energy.
A loud roar suddenly drew Michael's attention up to the sky, where a house-sized Gargoyle hung suspended below the moon.
The soulless beast opened its jaws and raised its head, charging a Dark Pulse between its jaws. Michael paled as he felt the energy being condensed into the sphere of darkness in the creature's mouth, as it was more powerful than a fire-bombing drop by a fleet of planes.
"Angel Art: Rosary Restraints!" Raphael called, coming to join the battle. From his outstretched hand, several chains of rosary beads were launched from underneath his wristband, as if coming out of his own flesh like a Demon weapon. The chains shot through the air like a frog's tongue and wrapped around the colossal Gargoyle with more power than piano wire, restricting its movement and ending the Dark Pulse before it could be launched.
"Angel Art: Divinity Ray!" Michael called, pointing at the restrained Gargoyle and charging a golden sphere of light just past his fingertip. "Michael Look out!" Raphael shouted, a split second before the barbed tail of a regular-sized Gargoyle stabbed him through the gut. The tail was quickly ripped back out before Michael could deliver a counterattack, leaving him helpless as a second Gargoyle slashed Raphael's wings and then severed the Rosary Restraints with shadow energy streaming from it's claws.
The two injured Angels fell out of the sky, both desperately trying to heal their injuries. Casting the Laying On Of Hands technique on the bloody hole in his stomach, Michael looked up fast enough to see the Gargoyles fleeing with supernatural speed, shooting off across the city while suppressing their energy to disappear in the night.
"Damn it, they're fast, strong, and coordinated. They are definitely getting more powerful, and if we don't stop them soon, they might even surpass Demon levels," Michael swore with blood trickling from his mouth.
Both Archangels were finally free of their injuries and regained their balance in the air, shooing back up into the sky. "The Angels are reporting that most people in the chaos areas have been evacuated, but the Gargoyles keep moving and keep spreading destruction." "We need to kill these bastards now, and we can't do it fast enough the way we are.
As much as it hurts our pride, we need to power up." Raphael nodded and raised his hand. "Angel Art: Hope Beacon Summoning!" Up above the Empire State Building, there was a bright flash of light as a huge crucifix materialized out of thin air. The structure was ten feet in diameter and forty feet in height, made of a single piece of rosewood and decorated with rosary beads.
Dangling from the ends of the crossbeam were two smoking incense lanterns and adorned around the top of the vertical beam was a crown of thorns. In the upper corners of the cross, two large Angel wings of light appeared without any physical shape, like holograms.
A pulse of light boomed from the hovering cross, illuminating the city. Throughout the streets, every Angel gained a blinding aura of power, as well as the two Archangels speeding towards the Gargoyles on their destructive rampage. Following the lines of mushroom clouds as building after building was blown to smithereens, they increased their speed to levels normally achievable only through the Crusading Canter spell. The two Archangels split up, chasing after different groups of Gargoyles.
Michael chased after a group consisting of four house-sized Gargoyles, swollen by the amount of power they had absorbed before the attack and the pain they were inflicting. With a wordless slash of his sword, Michael launched a crescent blade of light energy that carved one of the Demons in half like a chainsaw through a rotten melon and set the two halves ablaze with white flames.
The three other Gargoyles all looked up and all released their most powerful Dark Pulses at Michael, shooting enough focused energy to power the city around them for a week. "Angel Art: Gates of Heaven!" the Archangel bellowed, summoning forth the ornate gateway of solid gold.
The three blasts joined together and slammed into the barrier like a tidal wave, but with his power enhanced by the cross above the city, Michael was fully protected by the blast.
"Angel Art: Divine Smite!" he then called, pulling back his fist and punching the air. The combined trinity of shadow blasts was suddenly dismantled as an invisible shockwaves pulsed through it like a gas explosion through a sewer system. The Gargoyle directly in the path of the blast was instantly ripped apart into millions of bloody pieces as a wall of wind, worlds apart in terms of power from a hurricane, slammed into it like the shockwave of a landmine.
"Angel Art: Feather Arrows!" Michael cast, pointing his wings at the two remaining Gargoyles and launching thousands of super-charged arrows. The bolts rained down on the street, each carrying as much power as meteor and shaking the entire city upon impact with the ground. The surrounding buildings were thrown off their foundations and crumpled just by the shockwave as pool-sized craters were torn into the ground by the strike of each individual arrow.
Suffice to say, the Gargoyles didn't stand a change. "Angel Art: Final Penitence!" Raphael announced, pointing his hand at the fleeing group of Gargoyles. From the sky, half a dozen crosses that dwarfed cell phone towers fell down like bombs and managed to slam down on at least four of the Demons with machine-like accuracy.
Each cross weighed about as much as the Chrysler Building, and upon impact, every car in the street was thrown into the air like pebbles, the windows in the buildings shattered, the buildings themselves nearly fell apart, and the street looked less like a paved road and more like a dry riverbed. The Demons underneath were crushed to a bloody soup and pillars of dust and smoke rose up from the meteor-like impacts. The remaining Gargoyles all looked back and launched their dark pulses, trying to shoot him out of the sky.
Dodging the blasts with ease, Raphael cast the Crusading Canter spell and caught up to them faster than they could even process, ending their abominable lives with sword slashes that broke the sound barrier.
Throughout the city, the remaining Gargoyles were hunted down, all while the Angels worked tirelessly to repair the damage and tend to the wounded. Hundreds of people had been killed in the crossfire, millions needed their memories wiped, and New York was practically in ruins. But the Gargoyles had been stopped and victory was theirs, or so they thought. Abaddon gave a dark and booming laugh as his spell finally reached its completion. He was facing a summoning gateway to Hell, larger than the warehouse that it had just swallowed.
The process had taken vast amounts of time and energy, but now, the finished creation was ready. Slowly coming up like a sunken ship filled with airbags, a large building rose up from the portal with an ominous presence. The building was a cathedral, but not like any cathedral seen on Earth. The building looked like it was carved from obsidian, with millions of symbols painted across the walls.
Instead of depicting Angels and saints, the colored windows on the sides showed brutal scenes from the pits of Hell, giving a detailed picture of the different forms of torture being experienced by the prisoners.
The door was guarded by two statues of demonic jackals and secured with six heavy chains, all with barbed links. Up above the door was a pond-sized rose window, with each narrow petal-like pane showing a picture of a human stretched out with their flesh peeled off and blood spurting from the muscle underneath.
Like normal cathedrals, the roof was adorned with statues of Gargoyles, but this took it to the extreme. Instead of just crouched Gargoyles depicted only from the waist up, these were life-sized and fully carved, each in the process of devouring or raping their human victim.
The bell tower of the cathedral was also decorated with statues, but these were of Demons, all armed and posed like Zeus about to throw a lightning bolt. The bells themselves were ribbed like human chests and gongs within were shaped like human skulls. At the very top of the tower, a statue of a jackal with bat wings and goat horns crouched with the fires of Hell burning in its eyes. The front doors began to open, breaking the six chains. Instead of a view of the interior, doors opened up to reveal a portal to Hell.
Normally, a Conjuring Necropolis was used in Hell as a means of a teleportation device to bring forth an army of Gargoyles to whoever cast the spell. While it could not serve as a regular portal between the universes, with was being used in combination with the jerry-rigged inter-dimensional gateway in Hell in order to bring forth multiple Demons at once, but that was all they had the energy for.
Stepping out of the portal appeared ten Demons, each with different facial features. The first had two goat horns with one broken, the second had a head of spiky hair but he had multiple small horns hanging down on his face and resembling a beard, the third was bald and his horns were both broken, the fourth had his horns coming out of the corners of his mouth like boar tusks, the fifth had two long horns that protruded from his forehead and curled over his scalp, the sixth had three cone-shaped horns on his forehead, the seventh (and only female) had two hooked horns hanging down over here eyes and long black hair, matted with blood, the eighth had two goat horns like Abaddon but stood out with a large steel ring going through his lower jaw, the ninth had horns going around his head like a crown, and the tenth had two bull-like horns and his face was decorated with countless intricate patterns carved into his skin.
Aside from their faces, all the Demons essentially looked the same, down to the shackles on their wrists and the armor-plated skirts. Naming them in order of appearance, Abaddon spoke, "Amon, Bile, Shama, Pan, Dagon, Ishtar, Lilith, Mantus, Midgard and Nergal, I welcome you all to the human world," he said with a dark laugh as he held out his arms to his sides.
"Damn it. Do you have any clue what they were trying to accomplish with it?" Baltoh asked. "None. But one thing we are sure of is that Abaddon was not among them, meaning that the attack was most likely a distraction while he proceeded with some ulterior motive." "Damn it, that bastard sure knows how to hide his tracks. I just wish we could get some clue as to what they're planning so that we could actually fight back instead of just cleaning up their messes.
This thing will never be solved if we can't make a preemptive strike," Baltoh cursed, chewing on one of his claws. "Another thing, after the battle, the people of New York began to go wild and psychotic.
We thought that maybe our original memory wipe had failed and that they were still panicking from the destruction, but that theory was crushed by the amount of violence we saw. It seemed that Abaddon had managed to summon multiple Horror Obelisks across the city to make his Gargoyles so powerful that they had almost reached Demon levels." "Multiple Obelisks?! He should have barely been able to summon one, and you should have been able to find him long before he succeeded!" "It seems that there is some trick to summoning on Earth that he figured out, something that made it easier than before." "Has something like this ever happened before?
A catastrophe on this grand a scale?" Selene asked. "There have been similar disasters and outbreaks, but they are incredibly rare and never incorporated any sort of planning. This is different; they have a mission," Baltoh answered.
"They might be trying to build up their Gargoyles on Earth, Michael told me that Abaddon was able to spawn them from the anger of a riot. But that doesn't explain his growing skill with the Obelisks." "Is it possible that maybe the barrier between Hell and Earth is weakening?" Selene asked, drawing the attention of the two supernatural beings. "You two understand the laws of the universe far better than I do, I can't even begin to act like I understand Heaven and Hell like you two.
But I did study theoretical physics and I was a big fantasy reader when I was young. I know this sounds stupid, but is it possible that they are trying to weaken the barrier between Earth and Hell?" "As far as I know, such a thing has never happened.
The barriers have always been absolute. But if there was such a way, they would need an anchor, something they could use to tug on this world and pull it closer to Hell for the barrier to weaken," Gabriel answered, sighing in disbelief that he was discussing such matters with a mere human. "What about hatred?" she asked, slowly wrapping her fingers around Baltoh's hand.
He turned to her, his breathing shallow. "I honestly don't think there has been more hatred in the world than now, especially in this city. We have an election coming up with political rhetoric that is as toxic as battery acid, Occupy protestors are waging a war against the police because the rich CEOs and corrupt bankers sent America into a recession, we've been trapped in an unwanted war for a decade that causes only misery, and every day, people are becoming crazier and more extreme.
What if that's the anchor you're talking about? What if Earth, or America, or even this city, is generating so much hatred and negative energy that it is dragging us down closer to Hell?" "This is all purely theoretical, there is no way we can prove any of this," Gabriel sighed, scratching his head.
"Plus it doesn't explain how Abaddon and his Gargoyles were able to cross over so easily.
One of them was able to kill a human the same day it arrived, that's impossible with regular summoning," Baltoh responded, rubbing his temples. "How many times have you been to Earth? You said it was in the tens of thousands, right?" Selene asked with a very serious tone. Baltoh lowered his hand and looked at her with wide eyes.
"Yeah, when I was trying to escape from the most powerful Demons in the entirety of Hell. Wait… do you really think…" "That they are somehow able to harness Baltoh's Archangel powers?" Gabriel interrupted with fear in his voice.
"I can only theorize, philosophy is as far as we can get in this case. Baltoh, you always said that you were born from pure hatred and that you are an anomaly. You came into existence as a Demon filled with hatred, then gained Archangel powers.
Could it be that the power of your hatred is reacting with the hatred in New York, being drawn towards each other like magnets, and your ability to pass between dimensions is basically poking holes in the barrier between them?" Baltoh's breathing was heavy as he considered such a possibility. "I got to say, I'm actually starting to like this girl," Gabriel said. "Could I really be to blame? Could this really all be because of me?" "If they are harnessing some sort of energy that you leave behind when you cross over, then I doubt that their access is anything but very finite.
If they are doing anything like that, they might have started only recently or were only aware of a fraction of your jumps. We can't be sure how much of your energy they've scavenged, If they had more, then they would have summoned the entire forces of Hell, albeit slowly," Gabriel remarked.
"I think that is what they are doing…" Selene gazed at Baltoh and tightened her grip on his hand. "I don't think they are just trying to weaken the barrier, I think they are trying to tear a doorway through it, a permanent one that will link Earth and Hell completely, and even drag this entire universe into the fiery depths." Selene sat at her desk, trying to type away at her computer.
Baltoh had asked her to just go to work as if nothing was wrong while he and the forces of Heaven continued their search, but she was finding it basically impossible to focus on monthly reports when less than an hour ago, she had heard that the Earth could very well come to an end. It was late in the morning, as she had originally planned on staying home and spending a romantic and relaxing day with Baltoh, but that had all changed when he and Gabriel figured out the true seriousness of the situation.
Normally, coming into work so late would risk sending her straight to the unemployment line, but with how many people were "missing", her boss was just happy to have as many people as he could.
Deciding she couldn't focus with the fate of the world on her mind, she frustratingly got up and walked towards the lounge. Coffee, coffee would fix everything. "Oh ho, get back in here," a familiar voice said. With a smile, Selene walked back a few steps to Molly's cubicle.
The blonde was chewing on the end of a pen with a coy smile on her face. "Yes? Is there something you wish to tell me?" Selene asked, very poorly trying to suppress a grin. "Oh don't play dumb.
You think I couldn't see you walking bowlegged from a mile away? You're wincing so much with each step that it's like you sprained both your ankles. You and Baltoh totally…" "Not here!" Selene hissed, grabbing Molly's hand and dragging her to the break room, where they would get some privacy.
Alone in the break room, Molly turned to Selene with an ecstatic grin. "Details girl! I need details!" Selene tried not to blush, but just like before, she failed miserably. "Best of my life," she said, looking up at the ceiling as the secret burst out. "How was he like exactly?
How was he…?" "Like a stallion, and I really mean an actual stallion. I don't know if I was in my bedroom or a racetrack stable with a award-winner horse on meth," she groaned, fanning herself as memories of the night brought waves of hot arousal. "Holy shit! No wonder you can barely walk without cringing! Was he cunning with the cunnilingus?" "His tongue was like an eel." Selene purred, already feeling her panties moisten.
"I think I've fallen in love with this guy." Selene gained a sweet smile. "I know I have." Both women were suddenly knocked to the ground as earthquake-level tremors rocked the building down to its foundations.
Molly screamed in shock as the cabinets exploded and ceiling panels rained down, but after everything she had seen, Selene was calm and already knew what was the cause. Following the mind-jarring shaking, Baltoh came crashing through the wall and slammed into the fridge. "Son of a bitch," he muttered as he stood up and cricked his neck. "Baltoh, are you alright?!" Selene asked, rushing over to him. "Yes and no. I'm not hurt, but it turns out that ten more Demons have managed to cross over. This day just keeps getting worse and worse." Molly looked at them in complete and utter disbelief.
"He's Baltoh?! He's the guy you were fucking last night?!" Baltoh turned to Selene with a very dry expression. "I told her that you were a foreign guy, nothing else, I swear!" "Damn it, Selene!" "I'm sorry. Trust me, she knows absolutely nothing… at least she did before you came crashing through the wall." "Are you really like a stallion?" Molly then asked, unable to think properly as she looked at the four-winged figure. "DAMN IT SELENE!" shouted Baltoh as he looked up.
Selene just winced, waiting for him to calm down. After several seconds of deep breathing, he finally became relaxed. "Well it's not like I did too much to hide my existence, plus I can always wipe her memories." He looked out the hole blasted through the building and listened to the sounds of battle. "I have to go before more people start dying. You get everyone out of the building." Baltoh held out his hand and his sword materialized in his palm.
"Baltoh, wait," said Selene, grasping his collar. "Remember when you said you were so confused about how you felt about me and how I felt about you that you could barely fight?" Before Baltoh could even respond, she leaned forward and French kissed him, almost filling his mouth with her soft wet tongue. "Are you still confused?" she asked when their lips parted.
Baltoh just gained a confident smile and chuckled. "I didn't think so, now go out there and win." Baltoh returned the kiss for a few seconds, then pulled away and ran through the hole blasted through the building, rejoining the battle. "Say, would you two maybe be interested in a threesome?" Molly asked. "Jeez, something must have hit you on the head pretty damn hard.
Come on you little slut, let's get out of here," Selene laughed as she pulled her friend to her feet. Baltoh flew outside, where he was facing the one female Demon, Lilith. Four others were fighting against the Archangels Gabriel, Michael, Raphael, and a female Archangel with a literally Angelic face and long scarlet hair. While her beauty would immediately down a lesser man, her ferocity in battle was like that of a rabid lioness. What stood out was her appearance, as she looked like she was in her mid teens, yet she was as old as Selene and invulnerable to time.
The other five Demons were nowhere to be seen, and Abaddon had never appeared within the fight. "It's strange that now YOU'RE the one recovering from OUR attacks. I don't know what it is, but you seem particularly weak in this human world," Lilith barked, swinging a skull-shaped flail over her head that was connected to a lone chain that came out of her wrist. Baltoh smiled. "Well the ten of you ambushing me isn't very fair, sorry if I was caught by surprise.
But don't worry, I'm back to full strength." "We'll see!" he heard as the five missing Demons burst out of the building behind him, all with their weapons ready. The hybrid was completely calm as they attacked, blocking all of their strikes with his tail and his four wings without even turning his head. 'Damn it, he wasn't kidding, he really is at full strength!' Lilith thought to herself in horror. The Demons pushed against Baltoh's wings with all their strength, trying to at least draw blood, all while the Demon Amon bellow them tried to free himself from Baltoh's tail, which was wrapped around him like a straight jacket.
Very calmly, Baltoh tightened his tail, instantly crushing the Demon in his grip as if his body were a banana and sending blood and bits of bone in all directions.
Baltoh then turned and folded his left Demon wing, giving him a clear view of the enemy to his lower left. Moving faster than an armor-piercing bullet, Baltoh swung his sword at the Demon's face and cut a diagonal incision through his skull. The wound was actually cauterized by the speed and friction of the attack as Ishtar's skull fell down into the street.
The other three Demons quickly retreated in fear and Lilith launched her mace at him, the skull-shaped weight bristling with jagged blades. Baltoh lazily reached up and blocked the attack with the back of his hand as if it were little more than the dot of a laser pointer.
Shocking Lilith, he then grabbed the chain and yanked hard on it, pulling the Demon towards him. Reaching out like a cold machine, he stabbed Lilith through the chest with his claws, sending his hand bursting out of her back with her shattered spine and shredded heart in his grip and blood spraying out like a fountain.
As she vomited blood, he chopped her head off. Baltoh tossed the slain Demon aside and was instantly set on by Mantus, wielding a giant battleaxe as large as a man. The bladed behemoth was swung with terrifying strength, but Baltoh blocked the attack with his sword as if he were killed a moth with a flyswatter.
In a fluid motion, he spun around and kicked Mantus, knocking him out of the sky and sending him crashing down into the street. "Demon Art: Wrath Of Hell!" Baltoh cast. Rising up from a portal to Hell, a house-sized black skull appeared behind Mantus, covered in incantations and ablaze with the flames from the dark abyss.
The skull opened its mouth and outstretched its black forked tongue, secured on which was a medieval rack, coated in blood with shackles in the corners. The shackles were secured to the rack with bladed chains and the interiors were lined with barbed nails. Like the tongues of frogs, the shackles reached out from the corners of the rack and grabbed Mantus' limbs, making him howl in pain as the nails dug into his flesh and sent blood flowing freely.
The shackles yanked him back, slamming him against the bloody rack and holding him in place. Ghostly hands reached out from around the rack, holding the ends of barbed wires that were covered on every centimeter by razor-sharp serrations. The hands moved back and forth, covering him in layer upon layer of barbed wires and even threading them through his flesh like a sowing machine, all while Mantus howled in agony. Finally, the barbed wires all began to tighten against him, and the shackles began to pull back into the corners, tugging on his limbs.
Mantus gave one final scream of excruciating pain before the shackles ripped his limbs from their sockets and the web of barbed wire cut through his body like the blades of a meat grinder, spraying blood, broken bones, and liquefied flesh sprayed in all directions like lava from an erupting volcano. The inside of the black skulls mouth was suddenly filled with compressed flames and the tongue was brought back in, bringing the shredded carcass of Mantus in to be cremated by Hellfire.
"Retreat!" one of the Demons, known as Pan, shouted out. All of the Demons turned to flee, but before Pan could follow his own words, Baltoh aimed his hand at him. "Demon Art: Claw Bullets!" Firing from the tips of his fingers like slugs from five machine gun turrets, Baltoh's claws shot through the air towards Pan, instantly being regenerated at his fingertips and launched.
The hundreds of sharp bullets washed over Pan, filling him with more holes than a dish sponge and ripping the life from him. "Five Demons killed in less than five minutes, I'm still too slow…" "You dumb sons of bitches, do you have any idea how much you just endangered our entire plan?!" Abaddon shouted at the loudest volume possible, scolding the Demons as if they were young children.
"FIVE! Five of you got your asses massacred by Baltoh! If you hadn't gotten out of there, he might have gotten bored and just decided to beat you to death with his balls!" "Don't get snippy with us asshole! You're the dumbass that didn't cover his tracks and let that traitor follow him to Earth!" Bile defended, drawing a bone scimitar from his thigh and pointing it at Abaddon.
"I don't even know if this is possible know with the five of you! This is all theoretical, and you raped the chances of success! We can't even summon any more Demons, we used the last of the energy left behind by Baltoh getting you bastards here! Unless he jumps back and forth between Earth an Hell a few hundred times, there is no way to call for reinforcements!
Our chances were slim and you retards knocked it down to screwed! If we fail at this, it's coming down on my ass, and if it comes down on my ass, I'll make sure that it comes down on all of your asses ten fold!" "So what the Hell are we supposed to do now?" Nergal asked. Abaddon sighed as he rubbed his temples.
"We are going to lay low and make every preparation we can. No more going out and picking fights and killing people, you all lost that privilege. At least we'll have the time to make sure that everything that can be done will done. We just have to hope that the ritual can be done with the five of you. But we are facing so many odds right now, both Baltoh and the forces of Heaven, that I think we'll have to bring out trump card before this is all over." It wasn't long before Baltoh accepted the fact that while he was born of pure hatred and his body was the same as when he was born, his mind and personality had certainly grown and he was a much more complex person than he had thought himself to be.
But while their was unparalleled happiness between them, the world around them was not nearly as peaceful. Even without the Demons' further intervention, New York and the world beyond were crumbling like sand. Through their actions, the forces of Hell had awoken the most extreme desires and prejudices in society. Out in the streets, protesters were battling cops, Christians were attacking and killing Muslims in the streets, and right-wing psychos were bombing everything from Planned Parenthoods to gay bars.
It wasn't just in the city either, the social war waging in New York was triggering similar destabilizations across the country and even across the globe, setting the world on fire and letting it burn in its own hatred. Baltoh was sitting back on Selene's bed, holding her lap loosely with her back to him as she bounced up and down on his muscular phallus as if it were an exercise ball.
Her tits were bouncing beautifully with each elevation and drop, so beautifully that Baltoh wished he could see her from another angle. With Selene on top of him, Baltoh was able to delve far deeper into her hot wet pussy than the first time, probing new folds and corners and driving her wild with lust. The sun was slowly sinking on the horizon outside, New York was already full repaired from the battle, and Molly was unconscious in her apartment, having had her memory wiped of the day's events.
But none of that mattered now, all that mattered was the deep erotic clapping of Selene's bare ass and firm thighs against Baltoh's lap, her euphoric moans, and the shadow of her bouncing titties against the far wall, cast by the light of the setting sun and watched almost obsessively by Baltoh.
"Oh god, I can't do it anymore. My legs are on fire and I'm so tired," she groaned, due to the fact that they had already been at it for two hours, something that no regular human male would be able to do. "Don't worry, I'll take care of the rest." Carefully holding her hips, he lifted her up as if she were as light as a blowup doll and suddenly rammed her bruised snatch, forcing his entire cock up into her body and making her scream in shock and joy at the unfathomable penetration.
Keeping her elevated so that he had room to maneuver, Baltoh began driving his throbbing penis up into her with the speed and power of a jackhammer, completely taking away all feeling in her legs and making her wonder how she would ever be able to walk ever again after such a hard fucking.
Baltoh's scrotum and phallus were basically a blur as he moved with the speed of a machine, and both lovers half-expected smoke to begin wafting from Selene's pussy from the speed and friction. Regardless of the unparalleled pounding, her dripping wet snatch took his cock like a champion, being stretched pummeled to its limits but staying just as soft and wet as always.
Now that Baltoh was holding her up and she didn't need to maintain her balance, the busty beauty was moaning in bliss and rubbing the swollen lips of her pussy, barely able to tell when he was in or out of her due to the great size and the incredible speed.
After almost twenty minutes, Baltoh slowed down before coming to a halt, stopping to catch his breath. Still not satisfied, Selene turned around and leaned over with a smile, kissing Baltoh on the lips while she slowly and gently rocked back and forth on his dick, bending it as it flexed in and out of her pussy.
After the kiss, she raised her body and he began sucking on her breasts with gusto, savoring the taste and feel of her soft flesh and the swollen shape of her nipples in his mouth. As she moved back and forth on his cock, he had his hands on her perfect ass cheeks, squeezing them, smacking them, and rubbing them together against the shaft.
This continued on for several minutes until Selene finally dismounted him. "Come on honey, finish me off with that sweet tongue of yours," she purred, turning around and hovering her ass just above his face. Any flaccidity in Baltoh's cock due to tiredness was instantly replaced with renewed vigor as he stared at the flawless curves of her ass, the toned shapely cheeks, her hairless stretched pussy, and of course her untouched anus. Wrapping his arms around her body (which was beautiful enough to be considered the female equivalence to the statue of David and the human superior to every Greek goddess statue ever carved), he buried his face in her pussy like a dog in a peanut butter jar, slurping on her juices with relish and massaging her bruised insides with his tongue.
While he pleasured her, her head was bobbing up and down rapidly as she gave him the best blowjob possible, stroking the shaft with one hand when it wasn't in her mouth and using her other hand to massage his balls. On the floor below, his tail was twitching anxiously with each exhilarating touch of her tongue, lips, and cheeks. Gently slithering through Selene's pussy with his tongue, Baltoh was able to stimulate her in ways that pounding way at her with his dick never could.
With the smallest poke or tremble of the forked appendage, he could make her whole body jerk in ecstasy and created a flood of her delectable pussy juices. It didn't take much to drive her over the edge. After just a few minutes of eating her out, he could hear that signature orgasmic moan beginning rise, while suppressed of course by his cock filling her mouth. Sensing his own orgasm coming, Baltoh began to shake, giving Selene all the heads up she needed. Both lovers doubled their efforts, Baltoh groaning as Selene tickled the head of his cock ceaselessly with her tongue and Selene moaning as she felt his soft wet tongue soothing her aching cunt like a big bowl of ice cream after a jalapeño pepper.
Finally, Baltoh's face was soaked in the climactic fluids of Selene's gates of paradise, drinking it all in like a man in the desert about to die of thirst. On the other end, Selene had pushed Baltoh's cock as far down her throat as possible without throwing up and was quickly stroking the saliva-soaked shaft, finally prompting him to literally erupt into a volcano of semen, flooding her throat to the point that she couldn't breathe and felt like she was drowning.
She pulled his deflating cock out like an awakened coma patient pulling out a feeding tube and raised her head, swallowing Baltoh's seed. Her mouth was devoid of semen but her stomach was so full of it that she felt like she had just eaten a big dinner. With a coy smile, she turned back around and lay beside him, kissing him tenderly as their naked bodies cooled. "You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, your body will never fail to amaze and arouse me," "Let's just say that you've ruined me for all other men," she purred humorously.
Baltoh sighed. "I'm sorry, but I have to go. I would love to be able to fall asleep holding you again, but after last night, I can't afford to let my guard down for so long." "It's ok. I know that your mission takes priority; after all, you're saving the world.
Just remember that I'm here, and if you ever want to rest for a few hours, I'm always ready to cuddle," she said sweetly, giving him another kiss before he got dressed. He was about to leave, but something entered Selene's mind that wanted to be spoken so badly that she could barely keep her mouth shut.
"Baltoh, is it possible to restore memories that you or another Angel has erased?" With his foot on her windowsill, Baltoh turned to her in curiosity. "Sure, but it isn't always pretty, especially when time passes.
Why?" Selene had to bite down on her tongue to keep from speaking without her mind's permission. This thought had been digging in her mind all day, festering like a bug bite that she could not stop scratching. Was she really going to ask this? Was she really going to bring herself back there? Was she really going to dig up the past? "That woman who knew your name back at the office, she's my friend, Molly.
I was wondering if you… would be interested in a threesome?" Baltoh needed to lean against the window, trying to regain his mental bearings from the question.
"I don't think so. I don't know her and I don't trust her. I gave my heart to you, Selene, a heart that I can't believe I even have." Selene stood up and walked over to him, letting the fading light illuminate her naked body. "I don't want you to love her, I'm not asking you to have feelings for her. But making love to you and having sex with her would make me happy, plus I think a little fun and pleasure would help you with all that hatred in your heart.
I'm trying to get you to unwind a little, just enough so that you can know what it's like to be happy without beheading a monster. You are unique and that is why I love you. I don't want to change you, I just want to give you the option of being at peace, and this is one thing that I think we would both enjoy," she whispered with her hand on his chest.
Baltoh sighed again. "I will think out it."
Tags: Bondage and restriction Latina Teen Male Solo Female-Female
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Background: The names in this story have been changed to protect the identity of those involved. Those involved in this story are me, John; my sister, Jessica and her boyfriend, Michael. I was 17, she and her boyfriend were both 16. They had been dating for...


text:
Le sens du mot est flou. Il est utilisé à l'époque des invasions barbares, et pourrait désigner une terre allouée aux
Barbares par l'Empire romain, ou un impôt sur une terre. Dans tous les cas, l'argent récupéré sert à rétribuer les soldats germains.

Économie sous la Rome antique

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaWikipedia


President Hassan Rouhani will serve another four years in office after winning Friday's election – in a landslide victory.
Addressing a press conference on Saturday, Iranian Interior Minister Abdolreza Rahmani Fazli declared Rouhani the winner with over 23.5 million votes, or 57 percent of the total ballots, Press TV reported.
Fazli said that a total of 41,220,131 votes had been cast.
The candidate with the second largest number of votes was Seyyed Ebrahim Raeisi, who garnered 15,786,449 votes, or 38.5 percent.
Mostafa Aqa-Mirsalim and Mostafa Hashemi-Taba, the other two candidates, received 478,215 and 215,450 votes respectively.