Stop giving Bernie credit for minimally doing his job 2k4ever

Letters to Santa

John snatched Jane up under her arms, hoisting her into her chair and pushing it close to the table.  She bounced in her seat, instantly snatching up one of the crayons John had brought along with them, and waited for John to sit next to her. He chuckled at her enthusiasm and pulled open his bag, digging around until he found his notebook and placed it in front of her.  With her free hand, she immediately flipped it open to a blank page, staring expectantly up at John for instructions.

“Alright, kid, what are you thinking?  A bike?  Dolls? Puzzles?”  He rested his arm across the back of her chair, leaning in close. Jane frowned and stared down at the page with furrowed brows and a look of fierce concentration.

“No bikes.  Andy at school has a bike an’ he fell off of it an’ now he’s got a big scrape on his knee.  I don’t want a bike.”

John chuckled and nodded.  “Right then, no bikes.  Are you still a fan of that pig show?  Maybe you can ask for something from that?”

Her face lit up and she let out a squeal of excitement.  John glanced around nervously and hushed her, smiling apologetically to the gentleman who was at the table across from them.  The man frowned briefly, but was soon immersed back in his book.  Jane, meanwhile, had started colouring across the top of the page, mumbling the Peppa Pig intro to herself as she did.  Her expression was focused as she sorted through the crayons for the right ones, scribbling with a determined precision that reminded John of her mum.  While she was busy, John wracked his brain in an attempt to think of other ideas for her letter, but found himself suddenly distracted.  

Across from them, pushing a book trolley and scanning the shelves along the wall, stood a tall man in a royal blue Oxford shirt. His dark curls looked shiny and soft in the florescent light of the library, artfully tousled in a style that was meant to look like it was just thrown together thoughtlessly but John knew was done on purpose.  As John watched, he pushed his black glasses back up the bridge of his nose and bent over to replace a book in its place on a lower shelf.  John felt his face flush and immediately turned back to Jane, though he kept studying the man out of the corner of his eye.  Half of his attention remained on the man as Jane finished her first picture and pushed the notebook toward John for him to see.

“Very nice, Jane.  What else?  There’s got to be some other things Mum hasn’t let have before now that you’d like.”  

“LEGO!” she yelled, trading her pink crayon for a green one.  The man sat at the other table huffed in irritation, but John was more concerned about the librarian’s reaction than his.  He had turned around at Jane’s exclamation, narrowing silver blue eyes on the two of them.  At first his attention settled on Jane, his mouth turning into a slight scowl.  His eyes shifted his glare at John, widening when they instantly met John’s.  His eyebrows shot up and he quickly turned back to the bookshelf, the back of his neck turning an attractive shade of red.  The corner of John’s mouth twitched up in a grin and he ducked his head closer to Jane.

“Remember what we talked about, kid?  Inside voices go double in the library.  We don’t want to bother the other people who are here reading, right?”

She hunched her shoulders up to her ears and brought her free finger up to her mouth in a shh-ing motion.  “Right,” she whispered, though even that voice was almost as loud as her normal one.  “Extra quiet. Sorry.”

“Not to worry.  So we’ve got Peppa Pig and we’ve got legos…what else do you want to ask Santa to get you for Christmas?”

 John heard a snort from behind him and his head shot up.  While he had been distracted, the attractive librarian had moved on to the shelf directly next to them.  He sorted through the books on his trolley, his nose wrinkled in distaste.  He glanced at John out of his peripherals, rolling his eyes dramatically when he noticed John watching.  Readjusting his glasses and straightening his already ramrod back, he attempted to affect disinterest in the proceedings at the table. Frowning, John shifted back around so that he was facing Jane again.  

“What are you going to ask Santa to bring you?” she asked John, incredibly serious as she organized her crayons.  Before he could answer, a sigh interrupted him and John pushed back his chair to face the librarian fully.

“Can we help you?” he asked, attempting to keep the irritation from his voice and failing.  The man leaned an elbow on the trolley’s handle and rested his other hand on his hip, watching them with a smug expression.

“Santa Claus and his various reiterations are simply ways in which parents create reasons for their misbehaving children to be forced into acting with better manners.  If you’d like to get specific, he originated from the Greek bishop Saint Nicholas of Myra, who is best known for the fact that he gave three young women dowries so that they would not be forced into prostitution.  Although it acts as a good overall message to illustrate to young people, I’m not entirely sure whether forced marriage and sexual favours in order to survive is really the sort of thing people would enjoy bringing up around the holidays, particularly to children.”

John hissed and rushed to his feet, shooting a glance at Jane before shoving the librarian against the shelf and out of her earshot.  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded in an angry whisper.  “You can’t just tell a kid that Santa isn’t real.  Or talk about…about bloody sex in front of them, Jesus.”

“Why not?” the librarian shot back.  His glasses fell down to the end of his nose, allowing him to watch John over the top of them.  “She’s going to find out eventually, you might as well tell her early. It’s pointless to create such elaborate lies to trick your daughter only to have her realize it years in the future and become even further disillusioned.”

“First of all, she’s not my daughter, she’s my niece. Second of all, she’s six.  I’m not about to tell a six-year-old that the big guy in a red suit who’s got her all excited about Christmas is a fake.”

The librarian rolled his eyes, his arms coming up to cross over his chest.  “Very well, but I’m sure her mother will be absolutely thrilled to find out you’re encouraging her to ask for the things that she’s not intended to have.  All that Santa does is encourage children to get their hopes up only to have them destroyed on Christmas morning.”

“Or maybe she’s got an uncle who’s planning to get her something her mum couldn’t because she can’t hold down a job and would rather let Santa take the credit for it to make her happy?”  At his words, the librarian’s shoulders slumped and he shot Jane a glance.

“Ah…sorry.  I guess I…sorry.”  The man’s arms fell down to his sides and he sighed.  “I hadn’t considered that possibility.  I just wanted to help her avoid disappointment.”

John studied him and sighed.  “No, it’s fine, really.  You’re right, in a way, I suppose.  It sounds like you might have been speaking from experience.”

He laughed humourlessly and replied, “I asked for a chemistry set when I was seven.  Instead I got a scooter.  You may have the right idea with that theory.”

“Wait, you were angry you got a scooter?”  The man’s cheeks started to turn pink and John grinned.  “I asked for the Chronicles of Narnia series one year and got rugby equipment, so I suppose I shouldn’t talk.”  John shot his hand out to him, waiting for him to take it before continuing.  “I’m John.”

“Sherlock.”  They watched Jane colour and hum to herself for a few minutes before Sherlock huffed out a breath.  He shoved his glasses back up his face and waved a hand at his trolley.  “I should probably get back to work.  I’m sorry again for all of that.”

“No problem.”  John’s eyes narrowed as he looked Sherlock up and down and he spoke before he thought better of it.  “I don’t know how much longer you’re stuck here, but Jane and I were planning on going out for hot chocolate once her letter’s finished.  Maybe you’d be interested?”

A tiny smile appeared on Sherlock’s lip and he nodded tentatively.  “That…would be nice.  I’m not finished for another hour, however.”

Grinning back, John winked at him.  “I don’t mind waiting if the waiting’s for something good.” Sherlock’s still pink cheeks turned even more red and John burst out into a full blown smile as he waved and returned to Jane’s side.

“So Uncle John,” she started, acting as though nothing had happened in the few minutes he was gone.  “Do you think you’ll get what you want for Christmas?”

John’s eyes remained fixed on Sherlock as he moved down the row, his eyes darting back to John every few seconds.  “You know what, kid, I think I actually might.”

Numerology Post Again

So, the running thing with all of the trolls’ names is that both their first and last names are 6 letters each.

Now look at the kids.

All of their first names are 4 letters each: John, Rose, Dave, Jade.

John and Jade, the Prospit Dreamers, have 6 letters in their last names: Egbert, Harley.

Rose and Dave, the Derse Dreamers, have 7 letters in their names: Lalonde, Strider.

One could make the argument, since numbers are significant here, that John and Jade have a special connection to the trolls. But if so, where does that leave Rose and Dave?

What does it mean?

Or am I just grasping at straws here?

As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them. John F. Kennedy 

Request 1/11 for July 2015 - requested by brokenslate

Watercolour brush lettering. I did a few versions of this but they just weren’t working out because of the length of the quote (this is why I ask for quotes under 12 words) so I had to make it very simple. At least I got to use one of my new brushes from Canada :D 


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On November 22, 1963, hours after President John F. Kennedy’s assassination in Dallas, newly sworn-in President Lyndon Johnson returned to the White House. The first letters he wrote as President were to Kennedy’s children, Caroline and John Jr. To Caroline he wrote:

Friday Night 7:30
November 22, 1963

Dearest Caroline- Your father’s death has been a great tragedy for the nation, as well as for you, and I wanted you to know how much my thoughts are of you at this time.

He was a wise and devoted man. You can always be proud of what he did for his country.

Affectionately, Lyndon B. Johnson

To John Jr.:

November 22, 1963
7:20 Friday Night

Dear John- It will be many years before you understand fully what a great man your father was. His loss is a deep personal tragedy for all of us, but I wanted you particularly to know that I share your grief.

You can always be proud of him.

Affectionately, Lyndon B. Johnson


8 pages long letter John wrote to Cynthia for their first christmas together in 1958:

‘Our First Xmas

Happy Christmas Cyn With all my love John

Dear Cyn,
I love you, I love you I love you I love you I love u I lllllove U I love you LIKE MAD I do I do love you YES YES YES I do love you CYN you I love I love you Cynthia Powell John Winston loves C.Powell Cynthia Cynthia Cynthia I love you I love you I love you forever and ever isn’t it great? I love you like GUITARS I love you like anything lovely lovely lovely lovely Cyn I love lovely Cynthia Cynthia I love you. You are wonderful I adore you I want you I need you. I need you Cynthia Cyn Cyn Cyn Cyn Cyn Cyn Cyn is loved by John John John John John I love you.
Love John xxxxxx

John Winston Lennon loves Cynthia Powell. True true true xxx John-Cynthia. I love you Cyn.

Dear Cynthia,
All I want for Christmas is you so post early I love you I’m glad you love me or I’d go mad I’m already tho! Hee! Hee! I love you xxxxxxxxxxxx I love you from John Merry Crimbo xx I love you Maximum Cyn

I love you so don’t leave me I love you so don’t leave me leave me don’t leave me I love you Cynthia I love you please don’t go away ‘cos I love you dear Cyn I love you from John.

I love you yes yes yes yes

I hope it won’t be the last’

Did John really love only yoko? I don’t think so and this proves it! Cynthia was his true love ❤

okay but imagine sherlock watching star trek with john and deducing all the gayness between jim and spock and then he’s looking at jim and then john and then jim and then john and even the first letter of the names and then he looks at himself and sees spock because first letter again and spock is an Smart Arse™ like him and then he stares at john with wide eyes until the end of the movie because damn how can everything be THIS gay??

Originally posted by benedictfirecrotch-blog

Cars (Series 4 Trailer Meta)

I use “meta” very lightly, as I have *no* idea what to draw from this little tidbit. BUT! License plate - wise, I took a look at the cars in the Series IV trailer. This is the car that John rams into (I think he’s ramming into it. He’s clearly not at rest, so the car being scooted forward is not his because it is at rest.):

Let’s take a close look at the license plate:

The first two letters of the license plate are clearly EX. So John is in the car with the license plate marked EX. Onto the nEXt one! (See what I did there?)

Moments later in the trailer we get this scene:

Closer look at the license plate:

Not very helpful, is it?? So I pulled it up on my screen and watched it in HD:

In the explosion, you can see the outline of another car:

At least, I’m pretty sure it’s another car. From this bit of tearing apart a couple seconds’ worth of filming I’m like legit thinking this may be the run-up to the Garridebs moment?? Maybe?? John is inside the car as it rams into the vehicle which will explode. Is he still in the car during the explosion? I’m not sure. I can’t make out anything in the drivers’ side window. Except they’re in England so that’d be the passenger window, anyhow. Re-watching, I don’t have visual on the drivers’ side either. 

Conclusion: John’s car is the car next to the exploding vehicle in the Series 4 trailer.

An Open Letter to John Oliver

Dear John Oliver,

At first I couldn’t figure out why I was so upset by your segment about Ecuador and Rafael Correa. And then I thought “of course I am offended,” in one 3-minute clip, you had made a mockery of one of the most important progressive political projects in the world that was delivering so many important changes in the lives of Ecuadorian citizens. Of course, Rafael Correa is not perfect. The citizen revolution is not perfect, far from it. Political processes will never be without flaws and the project here in Ecuador is no exception. But first I must be transparent. Seven years ago my husband asked me to leave Canada with my 9-month old son so that he could return to his home country of Ecuador and be part of a new process, a revolution that sought to re-build a country destroyed by inequality, poverty, foreign interests and neoliberal economic policies. We had to leave in two weeks. I said yes. So, in the interests of transparency, yes, this is personal.

Don’t get me wrong. I also cringed when Rafael Correa started naming the people behind the twitter accounts that were attacking him. I thought, “why are you focusing on this when we could be talking about so many other more important issues?” And in fact, only when I watched your segment and I felt frustrated and angry did I understand why the President had called out the twitter accounts that were attacking him directly. He was hurt. Unlike in other governments, Correa actually talks directly to his citizens. I know it is hard for us North Americans (or almost North Americans) to even comprehend this. I mean we are used to layers of bureaucracy spinning messages before anything even gets into the public discourse. In fact, in Canada hardly anything really gets into the public discourse because the current Prime Minister has a de facto gag order on his ministers. The weekly Enlace Ciudadano – Citizen Link – (the one with the clown that you made fun of) is a weekly synopsis by the President directly to Ecuadorian citizens about how he presided over the country the preceding week. Imagine that. No really…try to imagine that level of accountability in the US or Canada. I know, almost impossible right?

In the same way, the President actually manages his own twitter account. Seriously. It’s true. So he writes his tweets and he reads those addressed to him. So, for him it is personal when someone says he wants to put a bullet in his head. People are not weeding out those tweets for him in some weekly dumbed down “social media” report. Why does Correa manage his own account? Probably because it is another way for him to interact directly with Ecuadorians. And that is how Correa governs. He speaks to citizens; he makes commitments to the people that elected him about health, education and the economy. He makes commitments to change. And he takes these commitments both seriously and personally. His eyes well up when he reads letters from migrants with personal stories of sacrifice. I know this as a fact because I was with him when he read one of these letters. And he asked all of his colleagues to also read the letter to remind them why they were there; what they were fighting for. He takes it personally when sick people are not properly attended to; when children don’t have quality education. And it is because he takes it personally, because he feels their pain, that things get done. Migrants get voting rights and they get programs and opportunities to return home. Bad hospital administrators get replaced with those that put patients needs first. Schools get built. People get educated. Progress happens.

And so I ask you, should Correa be mocked for governing in this way? Should we ask our politicians to grow thicker skins so that they don’t give a shit about anything? So that they don’t feel affected by anything? Or do we need more leaders who take their political roles personally. Who wear their hearts on their sleeves. I think it would do us all some good, here in Ecuador and probably in other countries too, to see the humanity of our leaders and to take a moment to empathize with those that take their jobs personally and who are actually affected when people wish them harm.

So, John. I invite you to come to Ecuador. Come see for yourself what is happening here. I will even take you to an Enlace Ciudadano! The President will probably sing. There will be laughter and things to celebrate. You will see the President’s passion and charisma and you will probably also see his frustration and anger. You will see him as a real person. With real feelings. With real frustrations. With strengths and weaknesses. Through these interactions we can explore the citizen revolution. What is happening here is important for progressive movements around the world and it really deserves to get a fair shot at telling its story – the whole story.

With warm regards,

Shannon Rohan