Jonathan, like Phryne Fisher, clearly hasn’t taken anything seriously since 1918.
And, I would suspect, for similar reasons.
^^^This. Jonathan being in World War I makes total sense. It’s
almost impossible for him not to have been. Given his age and background, he probably
volunteered in 1914.
Of course he’s going to not take anything seriously. Of
course he can shoot. The drinking, the skittishness, the recklessness, the
sense of ‘keeping your head down’, the scepticism about traditional heroism….
The one with more actual experience of death, carnage and
fighting is Jonathan. Not Rick. Not Ardeth Bey. Jonathan.
When Rick says ‘I’ve had worse (situation/odds)’ and Jonathan replies “ Me too”. That’s probably true.
Drop The Mummy
into the real world context and that’s a character who’s going to have seen a
lot of his school friends die, along with the myths and tales of heroism they
were raised on. Sort of makes the line where Evie’s scolding him for drinking/messing
about a lot darker…
Evie: Have you no respect for the dead? Jonathan: Of course I do, but sometimes I’d rather like
to join them.
I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS RIGHT NOW
*record scratch*
Wait a minute. Why is it being assumed that Rick and Ardeth wouldn’t have fought in WWI, as well? Johnathan isn’t that much older than any of them–in fact, there is a good chance that he, Rick, and Ardeth are all of an age. Just because Johnathan’s hair is thinning doesn’t mean he’s a decade older.
It was a LOT easier to lie about your age back in the day. So much easier.
Johnathan is the soldier who fought in WWI and became disillusionsed with pretty much everything except wanting to live (most of the time) and live well–and where is the shame in that? He would have seen some of the darkest shit humanity has to offer, and he kept going. And the thing is, though, archaeological digs at that time were DANGEROUS. Not from curses (usually) but from assholes who would turn up with guns to try and steal anything you discovered. Johnathan never really STOPPED having to deal with dangerous pricks, it was just less dangerous than death raining down from the sky in bomb, bullet, and mustard gas form all the time.
Rick grew up in Egypt as an orphan. What paperwork? He joined the French Foreign Legion, which fought in World War I in some seriously critical battles on the Western Front in Europe. Rick is the soldier who quickly grew disillusioned with everything, but he didn’t know how to stop being a soldier. Johnathan had a career and schooling to fall back on. Rick had guns, the talent of not dying easily, and not much else. When the army finally left him behind because he was literally the only survivor of his last FFL battle, he literally didn’t know what to do. At all. “Looking for a good time” was code for “Please someone give me a fucking purpose.”
Ardeth grew up in the desert. He probably never enlisted…but if you think his people didn’t fight against invading forces during WWI, think again: that region of North Africa was swarming with soldiers on both sides, and they alll tried to claim everything they stumbled over even while in the midst of fighting each other. Ardeth spent his entire life fighting to protect what belonged to him, what belonged to his people, and trying to keep assholes from stealing things that didn’t belong to anyone (for good reason). By the time the war was over, Ardeth was disillisioned in everyone except his own people, and seriously fucking done with stupid idiots who stole in the name of archaeology. He is completely (justifiably) resigned to the worst when Rick the Magic Survivalist returns to Hamunaptra.
This has been another episode of “Actual History adding context and depth to character behavior”
I love when “The Mummy” fandom comes out to play. But it’s even better when the history side of tumblr is also in “The Mummy” fandom.
Every time this post comes around I am compelled to watch The Mummy again.
I’m loving all of this, tho the movie does mention Rick is American but it’s very blink or you’ll miss kind of thing. Jonathan insults the American dig team on their Americanisms (it’s either the poker playing scene or the standoff in the tomb) and very quickly says no offense to Rick, who responds with none taken. Again it’s very quick but I love how they added in this little detail explaining his accent when you usually just accept it in these kinds of movies.
dogs are omnivore and IF YOUR VET APPROVES your pooch MAY be able to go on an APPROVED(!!!!!) commercial vegan dog food like the brand “v-dog” which has all the essential vitamins, protein, etc. (the oldest record winning dogs have been vegan)
cats are CARNIVORE and cannot fucking live on a vegan diet. a vet would laugh in your face and probably find some way to have your pet taken away from you because you’re obviously not fit to have an animal if you think you can feed a cat a diet based on your own ethics
i’m vegan but this is so fucking harmful.
it’s about minimizing your harm, not putting your animals on risky diets in an attempt to be perfect.
DON’T FUCKING DO THIS TO YOUR PETS
Idiot people
If you see someone you know doing this, report them for animal cruelty and neglect.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
This posts, and many of the notes on it, are bothering me. Ladies, gentlemen, esteemed colleagues from outside the confines of the gender binary; gather ‘round. Let’s throw some science in this joint.
1. Humans. Humans are not cats. Humans are not dogs. One would think this obvious, but people have a tendency to attempt such interspecies comparisons when discussing diet. Humans are order omnivora; we have essentially evolved in a manner that attempts to give us as much dietary flexibility as possible. We do, however, require a substance called B12 (or cobalamin), which is extremely important for brain and nervous system functions, as well as the synthesis of DNA and the construction of red blood cells. We cannot produce this vitamin ourselves–no animal, plant, or fungus can. The enzymes used in cobalamin production are essentially unique to bacteria and archaea–some species of which hang out in the digestive tracks of other animals. We get cobalamin in a roundabout way from fish, shellfish, meat, eggs, milk, and dairy products. While there is no naturally-occurring, vegan source of the vitamin that has been demonstrated effective in a human study of statistically significant sample size, effective synthetic forms do exist and can be used as a substitute. Cyanocobalamin is one of the most common and is frequently found in fortified foods and vitamins. In short: Humans are omnivores. Humans have evolved for dietary flexibility, including viable vegetarianism. Humans did not evolve for veganism (be extremely suspicious of people who tell you that we did, as they are lying), but due to modern technologies, veganism is also a viable diet that humans can thrive on, should they so choose.
Now, I did manage to find two veterinarians who disagree with every other study I dug up and the American Veterinary Medical Association. Their articles are here and here. They don’t really have sources, and are essentially wholly dependent on anecdotal evidence (“my dog is a vegetarian and hasn’t died!”), but for those of you data cherry-pickers reading this, there you go.
As a rule, dogs and cats need meat. If that makes you uncomfortable, that is your problem, not theirs. If you try to implement a vegan or vegetarian diet for your pets because you implemented one for yourself, you shouldn’t have those pets. That is animal abuse. (By the way, those of you not feeding your cats and non-allergic dogs the food they need to survive and thrive? What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you not love your pets?)
TL;DR If you do not want a pet that must be fed meat, you should under no circumstances acquire a cat or a dog. Thank you for your time.
Rebloobing for the more detailed info on B12 and obligate carnivore vs true omnivores
whenever people talk about primal urges half the time they’re talking about something sexual, but it’s like, sometimes you just gotta climb a flight of stairs like that, you know? it’s like my body is telling me, “buddy, five thousand years ago everyone would have bolted up stairs on all fours. it’s okay, it’s natural.”
Primal is sneaking out to your kitchen in the dead if night as your head swivels around checking for danger while stuff snack into your arms and standing stone still in the shadows whenever you hear something
sky factory is the best. no one gives two shits about being “”manly””
gavin declared himself solar queen and made a jet pack with rainbow trails
michael walks around in bright pink armor which summons pixies to defend him if attacked, plants magical flowers, and decorated everything with tinsel and christmas lights
jeremy made his cat in minecraft
jack has a baby ghost dragon named fluffy and wants everything he builds to look pretty
geoff has a ton of chickens and he named each one with love
so something that you have to understand about my mom is that she loves animals. like you know that girl in your middle school that was like I FCUKIN LOVE HORSES *___*!!!! and always interrupted every conversation with some Cat Facts? that’s my mom. my mom feeds wild deer, which—as anyone who lives in the country will tell you—is a TERRIBLE IDEA, BECAUSE DEER, WHILE BEAUTIFUL, ARE ESSENTIALLY TALL RODENTS. my mother feeds geese. i shit you not, we have a pack of geese that live on our farm.
as like. pets.
when my parents went away for christmas, i stayed home to look after things, and my stepdad was like, DON’T FORGET TO FEED THE GEESE! he wrote it down. so i wouldn’t forget.
“geese are wild animals,” i said.
“THEY’LL STARVE, THOSE LITTLE ANGELS.”
“they won’t. they’re wild geese.”
“IF WE COME BACK AND ELVIS IS DEAD, SO HELP ME GOD.”
elvis is the goose whose all white except for a strip of black on the crown of his head.
get it? get it? elvis?
life on the farm is weird and has gone a long way toward preparing me for the weirdness that is adult life.
ANYWAY, the point of all this is that the year i lived abroad, my parents had no one in the country who could talk sense into them, saying things like, “domestic animals are for cuddling, and wild animals aren’t pets because they are wild animals,” so my mother adopted a wild boar.
they don’t give a shit about the family you have to feed, they will kill you until you are dead.
They can smell people. “We are predators. We smell like a predator in the food chain,” Loftus said. That doesn’t mean they won’t turn and fight, especially to protect piglets.
“They’re mean. They’re aggressive. They’ll charge you. They’ll cut you or stab you with their teeth. They have big tusks, or cutters, as we call them,” Loftus said.
Wild pigs can rip open the femoral artery in a person’s leg, causing massive bleeding. (x)
in wild boars’ defense, i would also probably attack something that i viewed as a threat to me & mine. in my defense, this is my home?? it’s like you broke into my home and then killed me for being in it because you feel you should have the right to sit on the couch whenever, even though i don’t even know you and didn’t invite you here???
we literally had like “wild boar drills” on the farm where my mom would shout BOAR! WHAT DO YOU DO WHEN YOU SEE A BOAR? and i would snap to attention and shout CLIMB A TREE! CLIMB A FENCE! BOARS CAN OUTRUN YOU BUT THEY CAN’T CLIMB BECAUSE OF THEIR HOOVES, A-HA!! NOT TODAY, BOAR!!
i have this vague but uncomfirmed memory of my mother telling me that once she was out in the paddock with some of the horses and saw a boar and got scared so she climbed a tree but then the boar didn’t go anywhere so she had to call my stepdad to come get her in the tractor.
if you’re like “why the SHIT would your mom adopt a wild boar” after reading all that, you are asking the RIGHT QUESTIONS!
the answer is: my mom’s old, retired curmudgeonly showhorse, herb, who loves nothing and no one in this WHOLE WORLD, found a wild piglet while he was turned out one day. and when my mother went to bring him back to the barn he looked at her and said with his sad horse eyes, “this is my pig. i found it. it’s good. it’s little, and ugly, but still good.”
my mom: herbie, no.
herbie: listen lady, i carried u on my back 4 like a smooth half-decade, and you are going to deny me this??? this baby is my new best friend and i love nothing in this world except this baby.
my mom: ……A BABY?? YOU DIDN’T SAY IT WAS A BABY???? I AM GOING TO CARE FOR THIS BABY LIKE IT IS MY OWN CHILD. NOTHING ELSE MATTERS NOW.
“HEY GUYS!!!!!!!!!! I AM GOING TO EAT FUCKIN EVERYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!”
they named the pig charlotte, nickname “yum yum” (we are not subtle people) because she was a fuckin’ lady. lookit that snout. lookit those eyes. she’s unimpressed by your outfit and thinks you chose the wrong perfume for the ~mood of the occasion.
charlotte slept in the stall with herbie, ate with herbie, and generally made a nuisance of herself:
“omg guys i came out to have a good time and i am feeling SO paparazzi’d right now.”
“you know what i wanna do right now?”
what?
“STRUT.”
“excuse u did i say u could touch me, paltry human?”
anyway, it was all a big happy family until charlotte grew up a little and started having ~sexual urges~ and becoming territorial (wild boar live in a matriarchal society where the females are the aggressive ones because wild boars think males are garbage) and disappearing for days at a time.
then one day my mom and stepdad were cleaning stalls and charlotte decided that she’d had just about eNOUGH of being a SECOND-CLASS CITIZEN in this unjust patriarchal human society, and started charging them, so they had to hide in the stalls while she patrolled the barn. it took them like… four hours before they could escape.
literally nobody was surprised at this turn of events.
“i mean i guess we should have seen this coming,” said my stepdad.
“she is, after all, a wild boar,” agreed my mom.
“DID I SAY THE PRISONERS COULD SPEAK???” shouted Prison Guard Charlotte, snuffling and shaking her snout at them. “SEVEN POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR.”
the thrilling conclusion of this story is: DOMESTIC ANIMALS ARE FOR CUDDLING, AND WILD ANIMALS AREN’T PETS BECAUSE THEY ARE WILD ANIMALS.
also, GOD, MOM, CHARLOTTE IS THE NAME OF THE SPIDER NOT THE PIG.
Hawke, disheveled, kicking down the door of the Hanged Man suite, shouting excitedly: VARRIC, I HAD SEX.
Varric, drinks already poured, quill above the parchment, shirt unreasonably open: Tell me everything.