apparently weakness is associated with sensitivity, femininity, and vulnerability. these qualities are natural for the expressive piscean. but nobody is capable of seeing through the trickster, neptune, revered anciently in many forms, the joker etc; who is being fooled? look at the most powerful people in the world. rupert murdoch. sun pisces he who wields all that neptune … trance mindcontrol with glamorous media…fool you once…
On this day: Halloween ends but the real monster mash begins when Big Show & Kane follow up losing a fan poll to enter the night’s WWE Title match by joining forces to demolish Lance Cade & Trevor Murdoch and win the World Tag Team Championship. (11/1/05)
Benton Murdoch Spruance. Road from the Shore, Saint Anthony, Highway Holiday, Memorial to a Dead Child, Highway Holiday II, Kill Devil Hill, View from the Windshield, World of One’s Own, Visitor to Germantown (top to bottom). 1930s.
Why are Pisces typically depicted as a "weak" sign?
depends on what society decides on as being ‘weak’ at the time really. apparently weakness is associated with sensitivity, femininity, and vulnerability. these qualities are natural for the expressive piscean. nobody is capable of seeing through the trickster, neptune, revered anciently in many forms, the joker etc; who is being fooled? look at the most powerful people in the world. rupert murdoch. sun pisces he who wields all that neptune … trance mindcontrol with glamorous media…fool you once…
On this day in 1843, the London newspaper ‘News of the World’ began publication. The cheap paper was launched by John Browne Bell, originally aimed at the newly literate working class, and covered topics Bell deemed exciting and sensational, such as crime and vice prosecutions. ‘News of the World’ rose to become one of the most widely circulated newspapers in the English language. Its ownership changed hands in 1891, and again in 1969 when it was bought by Rupert Murdoch’s News International. Since the 1980s, the paper was a tabloid and the Sunday sister paper of 'The Sun’, with a focus on celebrities and sex scandals. 'News of the World’ ceased publication on July 10th 2011, after 168 years in print, following revelations that the paper had hacked the phones of hundreds of people, including murder victims and British soldiers killed in action. The phone hacking scandal led to the arrests of several of the paper’s leading figures, and ended the publication of one of Britain’s oldest newspapers.
“I looked at it, and then I put it in the waste-paper basket. And then I thought, 'If I leave it there the cook may read it'—so I burned it!” - an early condemnation of 'News of the World’
During his time in the outside world, Murdoch has become popular among the hobos, prostitutes and criminals. Delivering inflamed monologues at parks and streets, he soon gained a steady following. Maybe it was the party trick that finally did it - turning all that water into wine may not have been his brightest idea, but when word got around, people were soon calling him the Irish Jesus. Murdoch would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the attention (“well, I AM son of a god, maybe not THAT god, so it’s not exactly a lie–”), but there was only so much he could do for those new age lepers, besides inspiring them to rise up and fight for themselves.
Though Murdoch has faced and escaped many monsters during the ten long years he spent in the outside world, some of the toughest ones weren’t mythological beasts. There were monsters, he learned, that lived inside a needle, and there were monsters that lived inside a bottle. Addiction was a harder beast to slay than most monsters. There is a dark side to Liber and his celebration of debauchery, and now Murdoch is very careful in indulging freely in some of life’s pleasures. Freedom, he’s learned, can be both intoxicating and dangerous.
!! tw: drug use, addiction mention, needles !!
Every family has a black sheep. That one relative mothers use as a cautionary tale - do you want to end up like your cousin? That one person no one talks about until one drunk uncle lets the name slip after too many drinks in a family’s gathering, and then there’s an uncomfortable silence, followed by quiet sneer. Everyone knows that one guy that has been burned off the family tree, the unfortunate son among well behaved siblings, the stain in an otherwise pure heritage of proud romans.
To the Fitzgeralds, that’s Murdoch.
They always knew he was wild - restless like a caged bird, bearing his father’s free spirit like a family heirloom. Murdoch could never sit straight, could never just be quiet. He was the boy that talked too much, the boy that wouldn’t listen. Years later, they’d ask themselves if they could have known, as people often do when faced with tragedy. Did something in the mischievous smile of that little boy in the family portraits give away what he’d one day become? Some blamed nature - born into a strong military family, Liber’s love of freedom and lack of discipline was frowned upon, and no severe training could bend Murdoch to their ways. Some, however, blamed nurture - at the peak of her military career and well into the path to become the new Praetor, Oleana Fitzgerald had no time for children. The same day her son was born, she was back in her cohort, spear and shield in hand. Murdoch was left to be raised by his grandparents - and that sting of rejection was the first spark to what would one day become a fire.
Oleana wasn’t around much as Murdoch grew up - first, she was too busy with her military career. Then, she was undone by an accident during War Games. Confined to a wheelchair, she left New Rome for Ireland and upon her return, once again pregnant, they had already become strangers to each other. At six years old, Murdoch was wild; a hurricane shaped like a child, prone to wandering too far and getting himself - and his pack of friends - in big trouble. The birth of a sibling did nothing to calm his temper, as rejection stung deeper - Oleana clung to the new baby like a lifeline, and her first son, unruly and loud, could never quite fit her idea of a warrior.
But time is relentless and the years turned Murdoch into a fine young man, divided between the free spirit inherited from his father, and the wish for his mother’s affection. Following her footsteps, he joined the first cohort, but her eyes were always on Murdoch’s brother, intent in making the perfect soldier out of him. Murdoch grew angry - and that teenage anger was the perfect fuel for the rebellion that was his godly inheritance by birthright. More interested in politics and parties than swords and the battlefield, he soon became a dissident voice against New Rome’s outdated system - and the corruption brewing underneath it by the hands of the Cult. Nothing but a mild embarrassment, the Fitzgeralds thought; every family has that one kid - it was just a phase.
That was, until the fires started.
At first they were small and contained - an experiment for what was to come. Then, they got bigger - more than casual vandalism, they were a message. There were four confirmed criminal fires in key government buildings, after work hours, before Murdoch was finally arrested, at age sixteen. None had casualties, but for the course of six months, New Rome was turned upside down by the son of Liber.
Awaiting his trial, Murdoch suffered in prison - the true fear of a son of Freedom. A couple of days before he was to face the jury, however, someone unlocked his cell, and anxious to be free, Murdoch ran. It was only when the prison alarms were blaring and the tower of fire was burning in the distance that he knew he’d made a grave mistake. Years to come, people would say that there hadn’t been a fire like that since the likes of Nero roamed Italy. The body count had been of twelve - five of them demigods. Realizing he had been caught in the setup, Murdoch ran to an old friend for help, and managed to flee the city. It was with a heavy heart, hiding in the shadow of New Rome’s gates that he realized he could never come back - that whoever was responsible for that fire counted on him taking the fall.
But never is a long time.
Suddenly, with the entire world at his feet, he wished for the safety of Rome instead of freedom. But it was too late for that - Murdoch left with nothing but his smoked clothes, and learned to say goodbye to everything he knew that night: his grandparents, who deserved better; his little brother, who still had so much to learn; his cousins, his friends; and his mother, who would finally see him, but not in the way he wanted.
A life in the outside world, however, is not easy on a lonely demigod.
For nearly ten years, Murdoch survived on his own - sleeping in park benches or under cardboard boxes, stealing this or that, and making himself familiar with needles. Sometimes, he’d almost believe New Rome had been nothing but a dream - a drunk man’s delirium, some madness boiling inside his veins. But then, the monsters would come, and Murdoch would remember that it had to be real: hallucinations don’t draw real blood. Over the years, as his smell got stronger, the monsters would become relentless, following him wherever he went, so he never stayed anywhere for long. Friends with whores and addicts, gamblers and criminals, he found a captive audience - and that’s when the son of Liber felt more liberated, standing on a soapbox at the park, delivering his monologues to an eager crowd, hungry for change.
Some of them, eager to believe, started following him around the country. But there was only so much Murdoch could do for them. And when the monsters came, no one was safe. Finally, tired of running in a life that got increasingly dangerous every year, the prodigal son decided to return to New Rome, and face whatever sentence was waiting for him. He’d seen too much, lost too much, and his weary heart was calling him back home.
There were too many monsters outside, but Murdoch found the worst of them wore human skin.