#Methods of Strategy Formulation

[easynotes4u]

Strategy Formulation: Meaning, Definitions, Process, Importance, Objectives, Characteristics, Types, Methods, and Techniques

In this article we will discuss about Strategy Formulation: Meaning, Definitions, Process, Importance, Objectives, Characteristics, Types, Methods, and Techniques. Meaning of Strategy Formulation Meaning of Strategy Formulation: Strategy formulation is the process of creating a clear and comprehensive plan for an organization to achieve its long-term goals and objectives. It involves assessing…

[darkmatilda]

𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the death of your father brings you back to your hometown, straight into the grip of a long conversation with an old friend, during which you both rediscover who you truly were and how differently you remember certain events.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x female!reader, childhood friends, flashbacks to times when they were 12-14, an alcoholic father, the father's death, brain tumor, death of both parents and grief, lots of inner rage, reader has actually a whole backstory so you need to immerse yourself, father is referred as "y/s", an open ending

𝐚/𝐧: my keyboard was burning as i wrote this

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 9k

Spencer had always found a certain comfort in nights spent aboard the jet.

In the dim light, with its warm, amber glow spilling softly into the shadows, there was a kind of serenity. A quiet that didn’t invite troubling thoughts to creep in but was instead punctuated by the gentle reminders of his team’s presence. The low hum of JJ and Elle’s tired but easy conversation, occasionally broken by soft laughter or the sound of cards hitting the table. The faint whisper of music leaking from Derek’s headphones as he drifted in and out of sleep. The rhythmic rustle of papers as Hotch worked methodically through them.

Usually, in this specific moment, Spencer felt relaxed. The case was behind them, and they were heading home. But that day, an unshakable knot lingered in his stomach.

He tore his gaze away from the chessboard. For a while now, he had simply been staring at it, his mind abandoning any effort to determine the next pawn move. He tried to snap himself back into focus, to analyze the game so far, find the weak spots, formulate a strategy... but he just couldn’t.

Leaning over the table, Gideon shifted back a little, propping himself on his elbow as he studied Spencer carefully.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Spencer, after a prolonged moment of silence, shrugged.

“I’m still thinking about your last move. Of course, for obvious reasons, I’m not going to tell you what conclusions I’ve drawn, opponent...”

“No, Reid, I’m asking what’s wrong,” Gideon repeated, nodding slightly in his direction. His voice softened a bit, as if trying to give Spencer space to open up. His eyes held their characteristic mix of curiosity and concern. “With you, kid. You’re acting strange.”

“According to some, I always act strange,” Spencer tried to shrug dismissively, forcing a small joke. He exhaled heavily afterward. 

“But not like this. You’re not hesitating on your move because you don’t know what it should be. You’re hesitating because you’re distracted. You can’t focus, not even on chess,” Gideon stated with certainty. Spencer wanted to shrug again, but he knew repeating the gesture and his disoriented behavior wouldn’t ease the older man’s worry. Instead, he kept staring at the chessboard, avoiding direct eye contact.

“I’m going to ask you one question,” Gideon said, his tone steady yet gentle, “but I don’t want you to feel like you have to answer it. I just want to see your reaction—the rest I’ll figure out myself.”

Spencer couldn’t hold back a genuine chuckle, brief but sincere.

“Are you profiling me, Gideon?”

“That skill isn’t limited to catching serial killers,” Gideon replied evenly. “So, here’s the question—does the way you’re feeling have anything to do with the death of Lieutenant Y/S?”

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. A resigned sigh escaped instead. He abandoned any attempt to deny it, to change the subject, or even to lie—it was too precise a hit. A blow too accurate to defend against.

“How do you know?” he asked, genuinely intrigued.

“You usually read through entire newspapers as if they were single-page pamphlets in a doctor’s waiting room. Today, you stared at it for a good fifteen minutes. Then you slipped one of the pages into your jacket pocket. My eyesight isn’t what it used to be, so I couldn’t make out which one exactly. But considering Y/S was from your hometown…you knew him. That much is clear.”

The curse of being surrounded by profilers: they noticed everything.

But eventually, Spencer gave a small nod, conceding the point. Deep down, he supposed he did want to talk about it—with someone he trusted, someone who knew him well enough to piece together his worries from something as small as lingering too long over a newspaper.

“He was my neighbor,” he began cautiously, unsure where to even start unraveling the story. Slowly, he reached up to remove his glasses, pressing the bridge of his nose in thought. “His whole family, actually. His wife and…and their daughter.”

Gideon raised his eyebrows, as if everything suddenly made sense. And, knowing him, it probably did.

“An old friend, then,” he said, his voice carrying a faint note of melancholy. “How’s she handling her father’s death?”

Spencer shook his head.

“We…we’re not in touch anymore.” The words felt strange on his tongue, as if he hadn’t said them out loud in years. And perhaps he hadn’t. No one had asked about her in a long time. The words didn’t fill him with sadness exactly—maybe too much time had passed for that—but there was still that odd sensation in his chest. A warm ache, tinged with something like regret. He pushed through it and met Gideon’s gaze. “But I’ve been thinking about her. Ever since I found out.”

“Understandable. Especially since you were so close,” Gideon replied.

There was a hint in his words, a suggestion that settled into Spencer's mind. He truly knew everything.

“I’ve been wondering if I should reach out to her,” Spencer suddenly blurted out. The idea had come to him earlier, spontaneously, and hadn’t let go since. “Maybe not meet up, but…maybe just call. Garcia could probably find her number…What do you think?”

“Maybe it’s because I’m from a different generation,” Gideon started slowly, taking on a more serious, almost fatherly tone. “But to me, things like offering condolences shouldn’t be done over the phone. Especially when that person means so much to you.”

“She doesn’t—” Spencer began, but the words died in a sigh. He couldn’t say she meant nothing to him. Still, he sensed that Gideon had formed an image of their relationship that wasn’t quite accurate, and he felt the need to clarify things. “Listen, I had feelings for her, that’s true. I’m not…not ashamed to admit it.” Why, then, did his cheeks begin to warm? “But what I feel now has nothing to do with that. Above all, she was my friend. And her father…I spent a lot of time at their place. Actually, it was because of him that I even started thinking about going this route. You know, the FBI. I just feel…I feel like I should do it. Reach out to her, I mean. Say I’m sorry, listen to how she’s doing. For both of them.”

When he finished speaking, he felt a slight out of breath, like he’d just run a mile. Well, okay, maybe it was more like he’d climbed the stairs faster than usual. He stared at Gideon, waiting for the next words. But Gideon’s face remained unreadable, his posture still.

Spencer blinked, a bit desperate.

“What? You got me to say all that, and you’re not even going to give me any feedback?” he asked. 

Gideon watched him for a moment, then a small smile appeared on his lips.

“Spencer, you’ve already figured it out for yourself. There’s nothing I can add.”

He frowned in confusion. He started to think about it and didn’t even notice when they returned to their chess game. Surprisingly, he managed to move a pawn at last; his mind actually felt clearer. His opponent leaned slightly over the table again, unmoved, pushing the queen despite it being a risky move, one that could change everything.

“Did you tell her how you feel about her?” he suddenly asked, as Spencer remained lost in thought.

Spencer winced slightly, not understanding the question. Before the other man could repeat it, Spencer suddenly understood, and a short sigh escaped his lips. Oh.

He mumbled an unclear confirmation. He had to swallow to clear his throat.

“I did,” he admitted. A deeper breath, as if to wash it off. So much time had passed, he should have done it long ago. He looked more confidently at Gideon, his expression showing some finality, something unquestionable. “But she didn’t feel the same. And that’s…completely okay. Can we get back to the game?”

Gideon agreed, of course. But before doing so, he once again scanned his face. He didn’t smile, didn’t say anything, but despite that, it was clear.

Clear that he truly cared about him.

*

You couldn’t remember the last time something as simple as sending an email felt like such a challenge. You also couldn't remember the last time you'd written so many versions of a single message, all with the same goal in mind—agreeing to meet up. With someone you hadn't seen in years.

You alternated between typing and holding down the caps lock key, deleting everything. In recent days, you’d been replying to a mountain of messages, not even trying to hide the falseness of it all or force a smile of gratitude when someone insisted on hugging you, offering their deepest condolences. You surrendered to it all like some kind of medical procedure, while feeling the weight of eyes on your face, searching for traces of tears and the despair behind them. Searching for proof that it mattered to you. That you were conforming to their image of no one else but your father. The Lieutenant, repeatedly decorated for his service, who passed away shortly after retiring due to unspecified health reasons (such a nice euphemism for the pulmonary embolism caused by years of alcoholism). A daughter, humbly lowering her head at his funeral, eyes filled with tears, accepting all words of comfort with graceful charm. It perfectly fit the romanticized image of the person your father was.

That bitterness toward the entire situation grew stronger within you with each passing day. At the funeral, you’d been too disoriented to notice it. You felt like an empty field where any thought or conclusion simply withered in its infancy, never able to fully blossom. Too disconnected from reality, too preoccupied with logistics to cry.

But putting aside this self-analysis of your grief (you never bought into the whole five stages theory—though you didn’t deny it might work for some people. You just thought it was too complex a process to be summarized into bullet points), you agreed to meet with Spencer. His message pulled you, however briefly, out of that apathetic void, leaving you genuinely surprised. Only later did it occur to you that this was normal—old friends often reach out after years apart. They comment on vacation photos with flame emojis or laugh-reacts. They send generic birthday wishes. They ask how you're doing when your father dies. Normal stuff.

There had been no falling out between you. Sometimes people are simply separated by distance, by different stages of life, of career, and contact becomes more sporadic until, eventually, it fades. The moment it happens is easy to miss, and you’d missed it entirely. The last time you’d spoken face-to-face was right before you left for a college far from your hometown. Six years ago. By then, Spencer had already accumulated a staggering number of academic accolades, advancing at a pace that matched his brilliance. During your first year apart, you exchanged a few messages—it seemed like the right thing to do. But you’d never been good at maintaining long-distance friendships, and soon enough, his presence was relegated to that most worn-out folder in the archive of your life, simply labeled as childhood.

You had no real reason to turn down the meeting. You were curious about the kind of person Spencer had become. Still, you couldn’t deny, even to yourself, that your primary motivation was to escape spending any more time in that desolate house. A house that bore visible signs of use yet stood conspicuously empty of owners.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that it didn’t much like you. The house, that is. As though it harbored a grudge against you for deciding to leave, and now, upon your return, it had no intention of welcoming you back.

Any excuse to get away from it was a good one.

Your area didn’t offer many options for meeting places, so you suggested the first one that came to mind—a bar. As you walked inside, your eyes scanned only for a familiar face, paying no attention to the mahogany nooks and crannies of the place you knew all too well.

You exchanged a touchless greeting—two polite smiles, nothing more.

And then, the silence settled in, thick with awkwardness.

"I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the funeral," he said finally. The words tumbled out, and he winced the moment they did, likely realizing that opening the conversation this way was steering it down a less-than-pleasant path. He sighed but pressed on, determined to explain. "I only found out about it, well, through the paper. By the time I knew, it was already too late to even think about it. Plus, work…"

"You’ve changed," you cut him off mid-explanation with a simple observation that seemed to spill out of your mouth unbidden. "Maybe that’s where we should start. It’s good to see you, Spence."

The use of his old nickname seemed to throw him off balance.

"Sorry," you added quickly, breaking into a small laugh. "I forgot how much you hate small talk."

"No, it’s fine," he assured quickly. At the sound of your laugh, he shifted in his seat, almost distracted. Even though you weren’t exactly an expert at reading people, it was clear that something about that moment had triggered a wave of warmth in him, the sharp and tender grip of nostalgia. You could almost see the memories flickering across his mind—the two of you racing your bikes to the library, abandoning them haphazardly near the entrance, and bursting through the doors with a triumphant shout of first! Or maybe one of the countless other small moments, fragments of your shared past that sometimes surfaced in your own mind like snippets of a forgotten commercial.

He shook his head, pulling himself out of the haze, a faint smile curving his lips. "I mean, I’ve come to realize small talk isn’t always the enemy. Sometimes it’s just…part of connecting with people. It doesn’t have to feel like this desperate attempt to keep a conversation from flatlining."

You ordered a beer—not because you wanted to drink it, but to have something to fidget with. Still, at his words, you raised it to your lips in an overly dramatic gesture.

"Wow. Words like that coming from Spencer Reid. Who would’ve thought?”

He spread his arms as if wanting to join in on your question. The initial awkwardness between you both seemed to be fading, and it felt like you were both becoming more relaxed.

"You said it yourself, I’ve changed," he reminded you, then raised an eyebrow. "Well, I just don’t know if you meant for the better or for the worse."

You adjusted your posture, like some professional judge preparing to deliver their verdict. The chance to scrutinize him had presented itself, and you were ready to take it.

You'd known each other since you and your family had moved to the house on the outskirts. You weren't exactly a little kid by then, but in hindsight, you weren’t sure you even had memories before that event. If you did, they were insignificant. Anyway, you had always been fascinated by how friendships were formed when you were kids. As an adult, it’s incredibly difficult and usually based on shared interests. You meet at work, a manga club, or a Pilates class. You have to have something to talk about. It’s best when your sense of humor aligns, or at least doesn’t offend each other. Shared views are nice, though some people claim to enjoy a bit of difference for expanding their horizons. But it’s always just a bit.

Well, that’s how it was with you two. You were the little, mischievous adventurer, and he was the know-it-all shadow behind your back. Somehow, he always agreed to your silly ideas, the ones that later got you both into trouble. But despite the differences, every summer morning one of you would show up at the other’s door. It’s hard to compare him to his childhood version when the last time you saw each other, you were both eighteen. But even compared to that, the man sitting in front of you was different. Still young, but with more mature features. His hair was neatly styled, instead of the shapeless mess of long strands. He wore a side parting now. His dressing style, once a bit granddad-ish, was still polished, but it now had the feel of someone who might, at any moment, be heading to the garden to transplant a fern.

That much hadn't changed, you thought, noting his navy cardigan and the collar of his shirt peeking out with a tie. You glanced at his shoes—no Converse or any kind of sneakers, but proper dress shoes.

Then, the last thing—his eyes. The most striking feature of his face, drawing attention like two slightly melted pieces of chocolate. They were penetrating, yet once upon a time, they allowed you to peer into his inner world and his feelings. At least, that’s how it was back then. Now, there was more calculation and seriousness in them. Only after a moment did you realize that the coolness in his gaze was likely a result of the years spent working around the horrors of violent crimes.

You cleared your throat, realizing that your staring had gone on longer than necessary.

"I don't think I can really judge," you finally said, trying to stay diplomatic. "But I'm glad you didn’t give in to the contact lens trend. You've always looked good in glasses."

Spencer gave you a doubtful look.

"When I started wearing them as a kid, you laughed and said it sealed my nerdy reputation," he pointed out.

"I don't remember that," you replied innocently.

"I do. And I think that's enough evidence," he snorted. "I have to admit, though, I did give contacts a try for a while. Just out of curiosity, to see if they were more comfortable and how I'd look in them."

You pointed a finger at him.

"Poser."

He rolled his eyes, amused. This word in combination with someone like him was so absurd that he wouldn’t have been offended even if you’d said it with the utmost seriousness.

"Classic me," he sighed. His gaze had been drifting toward you for a while now, darting away whenever you caught him. Eventually, though, it settled fully on you. "You've changed a lot too. Which, I guess, is obvious considering how much time has passed. Still, it surprises me more than it should. You’ve finished school by now, right?"

"Right. Though I feel like I should be asking you which degree you’re on now."

That sent the two of you down the path of catching up—old-fashioned life updates that somehow didn’t feel tedious or like either of you wanted to change the subject. It turns out, when you’re interested in someone enough, even hearing about their Thursday trips to the farmer’s market for fresh eggplants to make some fancy casserole can feel fascinating.

With genuine curiosity, you caught up on everything that had happened over the years, growing more relaxed as the evening stretched on. Question, answer, sarcastic jab, playful comment. Anecdote, opinion. Gratitude that you’d chosen to come out for this meeting instead of barricading yourself at home, surrounded by the thoughts you still hadn’t confronted and the walls steeped in the lingering presence of your father. A desire to capture your shared laughter, to trap it in time. A tightening in your stomach—though maybe that was just you.

Nostalgia was a dangerous pursuit. It stretched like a rubber band, reaching deeper and deeper into the past, plucking out the good parts. But at some point, it always had the potential to snap back, hitting you square in the face.

“You know,” Spencer started suddenly, his tone quieter, more thoughtful. “I really hate that it took something like this for us to meet again. And that it’s been so long.”

You shrugged, letting out a soft sigh.

“Well, it’s not like you made much of an effort to stay in touch.”

The words landed like a pebble dropped into still water, rippling outward. Both of you stiffened in your seats, and you both noticed it. A part of you regretted saying it, but another part—heart pounding in an inner applause—did not.

Even though you hadn’t delivered it with sharpness or cutting sarcasm, you could see from the way his expression tightened that the atmosphere around you had shifted.

“You didn’t, either,” he pointed out. His tone was calm, almost detached, but above all, honest.

You shifted in your seat, trying to shake off the weight of your own hypocrisy. For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other in silence.

Spencer opened his mouth as if to say something, then shut it again. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, almost a whisper, carrying an undertone of apology.

“I just want you to know…it’s not like I stopped thinking about you. It wasn’t the news about your dad that reminded me you exist.”

"Spencer, please… don’t lie," you blurted out almost involuntarily. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly for a moment, your temples tensing. Of course, you couldn’t just enjoy a pleasant evening—you had to let your inner frustration spill out. You wouldn’t be yourself otherwise. Biting the inside of your cheek, you pressed on despite that or the expression on his face.

"I mean, I know that’s exactly how it was, because it was the same for me. You crossed my mind a few times, sure, but let’s not kid ourselves. If we had really meant that much to each other, we’d have met up long, long before now."

He shook his head as he listened to your words, simultaneously rejecting them and admitting their truth, as his tense jaw suggested.

"I went to see your parents," he confessed suddenly, hesitating as he wet his bottom lip with his tongue, a faint, somber smile touching his face. "It was actually the only time I came back here, after my mom… after I placed her in a sanitarium. I was hoping to run into you, but your dad said you hardly ever came home."

"Was he sober when you talked to him?"

"It was lunchtime."

You couldn’t hold back and let out a short laugh.

"Oh, boy, you missed a lot."

His eyes softened yet stiffened at the same time in a paradoxical way. You saw how he straightened slightly in his seat, as the saliva that had long been gathering in your mouth threatened to spill. You weren’t sure what you hoped to achieve by bringing up your father. Maybe you were trying to make some twisted, clumsy argument, or perhaps, after everything that had revolved around him in the past few days, your mind instantly turned to his figure every time you were too exhausted to pull up anything else. It was easy. Silence, awkwardness, pain. The memory of your father, the immediate understanding directed toward you. Almost pity, but dressed up in a more pleasant package.

"Do you have any idea what was going on with him in the last few years?" you asked, empty.

 "He had a problem? You know, with drinking?"

You tried not to snort in contempt at the question.

"He’s always had a problem," you stated, your hands tightening slightly on your chest under the table. You'd never spoken to anyone about this aloud. Any grievances you had with him were always kept in your head, knowing you wouldn’t find understanding from people who hadn’t lived with your father every day. Who knew him as a cop with an iron fist, but with a big heart for suffering, innocent people. "Well, I don’t know if you remember. Beer as an inseparable part of the day. Or maybe more of the evening. But he had a stressful job, right? It’s normal to have a drink or two in front of the TV, isn’t it?"

Spencer’s lips pressed together tightly.

“He saw a lot of crap every day, so of course, he’d take it out by yelling at his wife,” you continued, not stopping the bitterness building up inside you. It had been there for so long, but never formed into one angry thought. It surfaced every time someone spoke of him in glowing terms, patting you on the shoulder and pitying your loss with a tear in their eye. “Or at his daughter. He had to control everything, right? After all, he worked hard. He deserved to come home to a perfect family, in a perfect house, with no complaints.”

You stopped, closely watching his reaction. Maybe you'd said too much, unloaded too much all at once, putting too much pressure on him.

“I remember when we were thirteen,” he suddenly spoke, in a strangely detached tone. It was as if he was talking about something that had unexpectedly lodged itself in his mind and couldn't wait. “And he let us try beer.”

Well, that wasn't the response you'd expected. But really, what did you expect? You'd told yourself countless times that someone's sympathy wouldn't change anything about your situation. But still, you felt a sting, as if he was changing the subject and brushing off your words.

“He let you try the beer,” you corrected him automatically. Yet, despite your grim mood, the corner of your mouth quivered involuntarily. “But you gave it to me because you didn’t like it.”

The memory flooded you, bringing a wave of others with it.

Another summer evening filled with shouting.

You waited until the two arguing figures disappeared into the kitchen walls before quietly slipping through the terrace doors. You’d started doing this a while ago. Your father had always been strict, making sure your mother sent you to bed at the designated time—unchanged since you were seven. And that year, you were twelve. Anyway, one evening, you lay trembling under your blanket. Even the smallest argument seemed like a horror story in a child’s eyes. You saw the light on at your neighbor’s house—Spencer’s and his mom’s. Knowing that after drinking, your father’s vigilance and control weakened, you decided to take the risk.

You managed to sneak out unnoticed once, then again. Soon, it became normal. You’d return about an hour later when the situation calmed down, and his drunken anger had finally shifted to drunken sleepiness, and he wouldn’t notice your return. You never asked about it directly, but your mom probably knew.

“Can we watch something normal, just this one time?” you whimpered at the sight of another nature documentary on the TV in the Reid’s living room.

Spencer, lying on his stomach on the carpet, jumped slightly, startled when you slipped in through the glass terrace doors. However, he was starting to get used to your evening visits and quickly shook off the shock.

“There’s nothing more normal on earth than the processes that happen on its surface,” he said, turning his gaze back to the TV.

You raised your finger, sticking out your front teeth.

“There’s nothing more normal on earth than the processes that happen on its surface,” you repeated, mimicking his pretentious tone in an exaggerated way.

“Go away.”

“Then give me the remote.”

You chased each other around the living room, trying to wrest the remote from each other’s hands. Your squeals, arguments, and laughter never seemed to disturb Spencer’s mom, which always puzzled you. She didn’t even come out when you accidentally knocked over the bookshelf, sending several shelves of books crashing to the floor, which you both scrambled to pick up in a panic.

You often wondered that every day, Spencer watched those science programs, alone in the living room, with the terrace doors open. The darker thought would occasionally cross your mind: What if, just that one time, someone else had barged in? What would have to happen to pull Diane Reid out of one of those strange states she sometimes slipped into, when nothing around her mattered, not even her own son? But, as you said, those were very rare thoughts. After all, you were just a kid.

“Why can’t you watch TV at your place?” Spencer asked, pouting his lips.

He lost the fight for the remote, and you were now watching cartoons. His eyes absorbed them with interest, even though he denied it.

“Evenings, the TV belongs to my dad.”

“Couldn’t you ask him to let you watch something sometimes?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because no.”

“That’s not an answer!”

But even though he pretended to be unhappy, the terrace doors remained open every evening.

You confessed to Spencer that your father had always been like that. He pretended to be fine, then would crack, and afterward deny everything. You saw hesitation on his face as he listened, especially when you described how things were during your childhood. Spencer Reid liked to be right, and he absolutely trusted his own judgment. He hadn’t been a direct witness to those events, unlike you. Your father had always adored him—the small, smart neighbor kid who skipped grades and always asked so many questions about his work in the police. Of course, he had always been the best version of himself around Spencer. You also suspected that he probably always wished for a son.

His assessment, therefore, might not have been objective. He hadn’t seen what went on behind closed doors. For a moment, fear crept up on you. Did he even believe your words? Or did he think you were just fabricating a tragic story to explain a real problem that, in reality, hadn’t started until after you moved out?

Spencer just gave a barely noticeable nod, his forehead tense.

"You spent so much time at our house," he said quietly, uncertainly. "Why...why didn’t you ever tell me what was really going on? Back then and later on?"

You shrugged. Inside, you could have easily mocked your father’s addiction, but in reality, you were still deeply ashamed of it. Like any family of an alcoholic, hiding his bottles, lying that he was sick when unexpected guests came over, never calling the problem by its name.

"I don’t know. You liked him so much." A moment of silence, swallowing hard. "And he liked you."

"I respected him. Like I think everyone did."

One of Spencer's most painful yet beautiful childhood memories was that one specific moment during the holidays. He always spent them only with his mom, who wasn’t always feeling the best, but that one moment stayed with him as something special. When they stepped out onto the terrace, where they had the perfect view of the terrace of the neighboring house. The family that lived there—mom, dad, and their daughter—would also lean out, and they would all sincerely wish each other a Merry Christmas.

Their house was always decorated with colorful lights and those slightly eerie garden gnomes in the night light. They stood on their doorstep, the three of them. Neatly dressed, their daughter in a red dress with a large bow in her hair, clinging to her mother's side. They always seemed so happy, so perfect to him. A strange feeling would arise in his chest, and he’d move closer to his mother’s side, but that only intensified the sensation of something missing inside him.

"You looked up to him."

"Because I was a kid. Look, just because he had an impact on me, on my future…it doesn’t mean I’m diminishing what you or your mom went through," he finally explained, his voice tinged with a slight crack. His gaze was both confused and sad, still processing everything he’d just heard. "It’s really awful, and no one should go through that. I can’t believe I didn’t see it. Or maybe I did, but I didn’t want to? Anyway…I’m sorry for being so clueless."

"You weren’t clueless," you assured him, a weak smile forming on your lips. His words echoed in your mind. “You were just a kid. And I didn’t bring this up to make you feel bad. I’m sorry if that’s how it came across. I just...I wanted at least one person, besides me, to have the full picture”

He nodded, but not in the mindless way that merely signals someone is paying attention. This was different—a deep, understanding gesture, replacing the words that had been growing more difficult to say. You both sat there in silence for a moment, your fingers mechanically tapping out a slow rhythm on the dark wood of the table, while his rested motionless on his knees. It was hard to return to that relaxed, pleasant conversation you’d started with.

“I’m glad we could meet,” you said simply, but honestly.

Usually, saying something like that signals the speaker is preparing to leave. You had already spent a lot of time in the small bar, and with the evening progressing, the crowd hadn’t really changed—only a few more people had trickled in. The thought of going home wasn’t so bad anymore, but still, you hesitated before getting up and grabbing the coat hanging on the back of his chair.

“I am too,” Spencer admitted, briefly rubbing his forehead above his glasses. “But before you go, please, tell me—how’s your mom handling it? Maybe you should give her my regards. I hope she’s...”

He stopped mid-sentence, reading the expression on your face, and immediately understood.

"When...when?"

There was something unbearably unsettling about the plastic chairs in the hospital waiting room. At the same time, you could feel your legs completely numb from sitting in them, yet you also felt you didn’t have the strength to get up. You were effectively stuck, like a prisoner awaiting their sentence. In some ways, that’s exactly what it was.

When you were fourteen, your mom started acting strangely. She got sick—started with mild symptoms like headaches and nausea. Then, she lost consciousness at work, and that’s when they found the brain tumor.

When people hear such news about their loved ones, they often completely change their lives. They pull themselves together to be a support for them, they face the painful reality, and they find the strength to fight their own demons, like quitting alcohol. But your father, he took an entirely different route. It seemed like he was sinking deeper into it. No one really reacted. After all, he was a man facing tragedy; surely, it was okay for him to have one too many drinks. Previously strict with his parenting, he no longer seemed to care much about you.

This threw you into a state of confusion. At that moment, more than ever, you needed an adult, a parent, even if they were the most controlling person in the world. Actually, rules might have even helped keep your family in check, maintaining the appearance of normality.

For the first time, you felt the urge to confide in someone, but you had no one. Spencer had started college, which still seemed absurd to you, considering you were the same age. Your contact with him had dwindled, just when you started thinking of him as a true friend—not the ironic, childish kind. You met from time to time, of course, but it was always hard to open up, especially about what was happening at home. Maybe, if he’d been around, he’d have noticed your dad’s decline. But he wasn’t, and it felt silly to even entertain alternative theories, as if they could change the past.

Your knees shook involuntarily, your fingers almost breaking through them. In the room next door, they were performing the surgery to remove the tumor, which was located in a difficult spot, as the doctor, with a gentle yet experienced face, explained to you in a tone that almost sounded apologetic—as though it was his fault. Your dad had been there with you earlier, but you had no idea where he went with the passing of time. Did you even want to know? No. You wanted to be with your other parent—your mom. You didn’t want to leave that room for a second; you wanted to be the first to hear any news, whatever it might be.

The empty chair beside you was suddenly occupied by someone. You kept your gaze fixed on the floor, staring at your shoes, trying not to suffocate on your own breath. You didn’t notice who it was.

"Two years ago," you informed him. After those words, there was always silence—people calculating in their heads whether two years was enough time for you to have pulled yourself together, or if they should treat you like a fragile porcelain figurine at risk of cracking. You always helped them, softening the tension that followed with something disarming. "But don’t worry. We weren’t really in touch by then, so you don’t have to feel bad about not knowing."

Okay, that was one of the stranger things you could have said. Spencer must have thought the same; his mouth literally fell open in disbelief.

"Of course I feel bad," he managed, his voice a mix of a sigh and an incredulous scoff, shaken yet laced with growing pain. He quickly shook his head, as if trying to snap himself out of it. "Of course I feel bad. I—I don’t know why you’d think I wouldn’t. She’s your mom."

Someone’s hand awkwardly reached out to take yours.

You glanced to the side, realizing with disbelief that the person who had sat down next to you was Spencer.

The boy who would get goosebumps at the mere thought of germs. Who openly mocked the idea of drinking from the same bottle, sometimes blurting out that kissing was safer than shaking hands—only to blush furiously when he realized how that sounded.

And yet, he did it. Hesitant, of course, but he reached for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze to disguise the trembling. You barely noticed it. Your hand was shaking too.

Modern-day Spencer rested his forearms on the table, leaning forward. The return of your mother’s tumor had been a blow, and her passing, another. Time, however, had marched on, and you had learned to move through life with that weight. Thoughts of her hadn’t brought tears to your eyes in quite some time. But at the sight of his reaction, the familiar sting returned.

To him, she hadn’t just been your mom. She was the woman in whose house he had spent a significant part of his childhood. The one who always stopped herself at the last moment from enthusiastically hugging him on his birthday, remembering his aversion to touch. The one who listened to him with fascination, praising his brilliance while gently, softly asking how his own mother was doing. The one who loved to sit wrapped in a blanket on the porch with a book, watching as the two of you played a self-invented version of chess that involved running laps around the yard before each move.

You leaned back from him, blinking rapidly to dispel the swell of emotion.

Your mom was to stay in the hospital for a while longer. Night had fallen, and though you couldn't remain until morning, your dad was still nowhere to be found. Instead of fruitlessly searching for him, you and Spencer decided to walk home. The empty streets of the suburbs seemed to meditate in the stillness between you, adjusting to the rhythm of your silence.

Your feet, however, led you both to the playground—a place you hadn't visited in years, having convinced yourselves that you were too old for such things. Even though it was summer, a strange chill settled over your shoulders as you sat in silence on the two solitary swings. Each motion forward felt like it brought you closer to the stars.

It wasn’t that night, specifically, but sometime shortly after, you began to realize that you were starting to feel something more. Lightly, in that innocent, teenage way, you found yourself falling for your best friend. At first, you would have rather died than admit it, but the feeling lingered.

Over the next four years, you saw each other regularly but rarely due to his studies. But you awaited each of these meetings with the greatest impatience, while simultaneously becoming more and more terrified of your own feelings.

"I'm so very sorry I wasn't here then," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. You wanted to shake your head in understanding, to reassure him, but he cut you off. "Not even just at the funeral itself. Just...with you."

"Stop," you pleaded weakly. "You didn’t know. I didn’t tell you. I probably missed a lot of things that happened in your life along the way too." You swallowed to wet your dry throat. The words came out with difficulty, your voice trembling slightly. "At some point, we stopped talking to each other—not the first childhood friends to drift apart and definitely not the last. It just.. happens."

"That doesn’t mean it was right," he replied without hesitation, tilting his head, clearly convinced of the truth in his statement. You weren’t so sure, given your hidden feelings, ones you had no intention of revisiting. Not then, not in that moment, not in that bar. During a meeting that was about to end.

"I’ve known you forever. Well, okay, not literally, but I’ve known you since my brain was forming the most—frontal lobes developing and…what I mean is, you’re really important to me. And I wasn’t there for you when both your parents…"

You let the completion of that sentence fade into the space around you. In the bar, which seemed to exist only in the space you occupied. Breathing more heavily, you recalled all the moments over the past six years when you missed him, wondering what he was up to and how he was doing. Which usually went hand in hand. Sometimes he would cross your mind when you saw kids playing chess in the park, other times you simply thought of him, unable to attribute the guilt to any particular association.

"You’re here now," you said gently, unable to say anything else.

He was still slightly leaning over the table, towards you. Suddenly, as if he realized his position, he slowly leaned back into his chair, exhaling more heavily after a long moment of silence.

You were unable to move, the growing sense of guilt shaping on his face. And when he felt guilty, so did you.

Your goal was to rise from the chair, but your body, against your will, made a different move. To both your surprise, it reached for both of his hands resting on the table, clasping them gently. You tried not to focus on their texture, not to compare them to how they had been before, not to search for that familiar feeling, not to flow with the current of any memories.

Simply to keep him in place for a moment.

“Thank you for being here today,” you whispered, gently squeezing his hands. His fingers, initially limp in yours, were slowly beginning to reconnect, though there was a certain confusion in them. The same confusion was in his eyes. “Thank you for coming as soon as you found out. It really means a lot, Spencer. It really does to me.”

For a moment, you both stayed silent, looking at each other. You both thought you would say something more. You would expand on the thought, maybe call him the best friend you've ever had. Perhaps, without thinking, you'd mention that once you had loved him in a way that might have seemed unexpected. Well, both those options passed through your mind like shadows.

“It’s late.” The third option won. If you had a watch, you would have glanced at it dramatically. That was all that was missing to complete this scene. “I really should be going.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but no sound came out. In the end, he just nodded with silent understanding when he noticed what time it was. Though, it wasn't the time that was the problem. After all, you were both adults who didn’t have a curfew. You could have stayed there until morning. But would that really be good for you?

Slowly, you pulled your coat over your shoulders.

Spencer didn’t move. You wondered if he planned on staying there.

"Do you... do you want me to walk you home?" he asked suddenly, hesitating.

You looked at him, unsure, slipping your hands into your pockets.

"I’m heading the same way," he added quickly, slowly getting up from his seat, even though you hadn’t agreed yet.

You raised an eyebrow in surprise, then remembered that the Reid house hadn't been put up for sale and had been sitting empty for years. You waited until he had put on his coat, and then both of you were exposed to the crisp night air. As you crossed the street, an occasional car passed by with its headlights on, making you both squint. You couldn’t help but think how you never expected that if you ever found yourselves together, side by side in your hometown, it would feel like this. Perhaps you hadn’t even thought that you’d never see each other again. After all, it was quite possible you’d run into each other a few more times. People often bumped into their neighbors from the same apartment block on the other side of the world during vacations, fate had a wicked sense of humor. What you didn’t expect, however, was how present the ghost of your childhood, and the memories it carried, would be during this encounter.

Your steps were oddly small, as though your feet had shrunk. Unconsciously, you extended the walk, turning into a wrong street, just like when you had returned from the hospital after visiting your mother.

 “Are you stopping here?” you asked, your gaze absently drifting to the empty swings on the playground you passed.

Spencer’s eyes followed yours in that direction, and his steps even slowed a little. He probably would’ve stopped if you hadn’t kept moving confidently ahead.

“Just for one night,” he replied, adjusting his glasses on his nose. There wasn’t much enthusiasm in his voice. Sometimes, returning to the family home didn’t bring joy to grown-up children, especially when the house had been empty for a long time—or unbearably loud, depending on the family. “I’m actually flying out tomorrow. I just...really wanted to talk to you.”

You nodded, briefly asking about his mom, then about work, though not in a probing way—just the steady rhythm of a lazy conversation. Slowly, the familiar neighborhood began to shift into the one etched deeply in your subconscious, the one you had both memorized long ago.

Eventually, you both found yourselves forced to stop, mainly due to the sight of your family homes. Standing steadfastly side by side, just like you both had during that entire walk.

“Maybe we should meet up,” he suggested quietly, stopping in front of you. “You know, tomorrow. Just for a moment.”

Staring at his face, bathed in the orange glow of the streetlight, you gently nodded.

“And...maybe sometime after that,” he added.

You were a little short of words, but not because you didn’t want to see him again. It was simply that you didn’t like making promises driven by the moment. For now, you both drowned in nostalgia, unwilling to part ways and disrupt it. But who knew? Maybe once you disappeared from each other’s sight, you’d forget each other’s phone numbers again. Your hesitation seemed to stir something on his face. Perhaps he took it as a refusal.

You sighed deeper and rose onto your toes, wrapping your arms around his neck. It was a very slow, lazy embrace, gradually melding into his body as the scent of his clothes began to tickle your nostrils, and your chin sank deeper into his shoulder, like it was a pillow.

Spencer remained stiff for a moment. You’d only hugged before once, when you were packing your suitcase into the car before leaving for college, as far from your hometown as possible. That hug had been difficult for you. This one, although it too was a form of farewell, felt pleasant and hard to break. Especially when he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms tightly around your back, almost lifting the tips of your fingers off the ground. You heard a soft sigh escape his lips before you pulled away to arm’s length.

"So...see you," you muttered, slowly stepping back, heel to heel. You felt like a magnet being forcibly pulled away from a fridge, shaking your head to get rid of the pull.

Two more small steps back, you should have already turned towards home, but his expression stopped you. Full of hesitation, with a clenched jaw, as if he really wanted to add something, but wasn't sure if he should. You were already half-turned with your back to him.

"Would...would things have been different between us if I hadn't given you that letter back then?" he asked finally, pushing his hands deep into his pockets.

The words seemed to bounce off your ears but didn’t fully reach you. At least not completely. Your posture straightened, freezing in place, facing him once again.

"Well, you know," he tried to explain, forcing a small smile. "We would have stayed in touch more over the years."

"What...what letter, Spencer?"

His brows furrowed, his lips parted, but no sound came from them. Suddenly, he froze, expressionless.

"Did you send me a letter?" you tried, completely not understanding what he meant.

Maybe he had written down your address wrong, and it ended up going to someone else who threw it away. Maybe you had actually received it, but tossed it somewhere in your dorm room, too busy to read it. Then, while dressing, you accidentally knocked it behind your dresser, where it gathered dust through all your years of studying, never meant to reach you again. The cobwebs covering its words, whatever they might have been.

"I left you a letter," he finally said, his voice so fragile that you could almost feel it in your chest. "I knew I wouldn't be able to say it to you. And, well...you were leaving, and I had no idea when we'd see each other again. I just...I didn't want to keep it to myself anymore."

A lingering moment of silence.

"I left it on your terrace," he finally added, barely opening his mouth as he spoke.

You pressed your fist to your chest, closing your eyes for a moment.

"I never got it," you confessed hoarsely, still not looking at him, trying to process what you’d just heard. "On the terrace...God, Spencer. It should've been obvious that someone would throw it out. My mom or dad. Especially him."

He suddenly chuckled, but there was no trace of amusement in it. A bit of absurdity, yes. But mostly, the realization, after all these years, that he had messed up and had no idea about it. On the contrary, he had been under the impression that you knew.

"What was in that letter?"

You felt like you wouldn't go back home until you knew. Spencer, however, shook his head in disbelief, his eyes wide with shock.

"You have to tell me," you insisted firmly. "Whatever it was, please. Even if it's no longer relevant. I just want to know...what you wanted to say to me back then."

His temples tensed as he squeezed his eyes shut. A few breaths later, his muscles loosened. Meanwhile, your body remained still, waiting for what you'd hear.

"I liked you," he finally managed to say. A rush of sound filled your ears. Spencer suddenly let out a bitter chuckle. "It was a love letter. As deep as an eighteen-year-old can get. Maybe...maybe it's better you never got it. I’d be so, so embarrassed by it now…"

"You liked me?" you interrupted him.

You had been enchanted by him for years, not even realizing it for most of that time. Spencer, however, was a complicated teenager, both close and distant at the same time. He was reserved when it came to emotions, impenetrable. Sometimes he’d blush, but never once made a move, never.

He shrugged.

"Well, I guess it doesn't really matter now," he replied. He tried to smile, attempting to wipe away a certain sorrow that still lingered beneath the surface of his expression. "Back then, it didn't really matter much either. But...maybe it's good that you know now. You have...the full picture."

You laughed in a way that was almost tearful, surprising him. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to figure out what he had done wrong to provoke such a reaction from you.

"I think we should talk," you finally said, nervously nodding toward your house. "Maybe...maybe you could come in?"

With held breath, you waited for his response. You felt the suggestion was a bit silly. No conversation could change the course of the last few years, force its direction or undo what had already been set in motion. But you no longer cared about changing anything that had happened between you two. What was in the past was probably already irrelevant. What you wanted now was honesty. The full picture, as he had said. You wanted both of you to have it.

"I don't think so," he replied, taking an unsure step back. A nervous laugh escaped him, probably to loosen himself up. "I mean... I don’t even remember what was in that letter anymore, if you're still curious. It doesn't matter at all... we don’t have to talk about it. You don’t have to feel like you should…”

"I liked you too" 

Spencer stopped in his tracks, his hands slipping out of his pockets where he had been nervously hiding them.

"I really think we should talk a little more," you added.

It turned out that those hours spent talking in the bar, just the two of you, hadn’t been enough.

You watched as his chest rose and fell, his head nodding slowly. He agreed.

taglist: @she-wont-miss @mggslover @nyeddleblog @dylanobrienswife0420 @wmoony

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[itsmarjudgelove]

"Katori Shintō-ryū shuriken-jutsu employs a 5-sun 6-bu 5-ri (approximately 17.2cm) straight throwing spike (bō shuriken). Virtually all the shuriken used by samurai of old were of this format, although depending on the tradition, slightly longer versions or with broader tips, to make the spike tip heavy, were used. Throwing methods to ensure spikes did not rotate before hitting a far-away target were also formulated.

Shuriken have an effective combative range of around between 2 and 4-ken (around 3.6-7.3m), and while not likely to cause fatal wounds to an opponent, they had a significant effect in causing an opponent to lose the will to engage. Shuriken also possess the advantage of being able to strike opponents from longer range than long weapons such as yari and naginata, as well as from narrow spaces.

When practising, the practitioner ensures the shuriken travels out along his second finger without rotating in flight, and gradually shifts the distance at which the target is placed from close to further away. Through throwing several hundred times in one practice session, in time the practitioner is able to hit the target with the shuriken penetrating at a right angle to the target. Shuriken-jutsu practice is conducted alone, so consistent tireless practice is vital. When I first learned shuriken-jutsu, I used an old tatami mat I acquired from a tatami maker and threw around 300 times daily for approximately three years."

Source: Risuke Otake, “Strategy and the art of peace”, Tokyo (Japan), Nippon Budokan 2016.

[tokiro07]

Ichi the Witch ch.26 thoughts

[Literal Tourist Trap]

(Topics: worldbuilding - Kagami, speculation - Bakugami)

...Yeah, shoulda seen one coming

Of course Ichi charged in instead of formulating a strategy, that's what he does, and we love him for it

So this chapter was mostly for expositing the history and relationship between Bakugami the Magik and Bakugami the country (which I'll refer to by its old name of Kagami to avoid confusion going forward). This didn't make for a particularly exciting chapter, but a necessary one for setting the tone of what's to come

The Bad Ol' Days

Ten years ago, Kagami was undergoing an economic crisis due to the rise of magic item production in neighboring countries, a practice which Kagami used to have a monopoly on

Kagami being a land of magic item crafters goes a long way in explaining Gokuraku, as it means that his capacity to create and graft magic items onto his body didn't come from nowhere, and is instead a skill with likely deep personal meaning to him as a family legacy. It also gives a small glimpse into how Kagami may bounce back after they inevitably lose Bakugami, as Gokuraku's methods are likely extremely advanced compared to the rest of the world

It was also mentioned last week that Bakugami raised Kagami from underground, but there was no direct acknowledgment of that in this chapter. However, I did notice that until Kagami becomes a tourist attraction, the sky in the flashback is never actually shown. There are a couple of shots where you see something that could be the sky, but it's colored in either solid gray or white as opposed to how it's usually drawn with clouds and some gradation. Every other panel though is either indoors or shot from a birds-eye-view, cleverly obscuring the skyline

Kagami being an underground country was likely by design, as it helped them both forage for material and keep that material away from others who might steal it. Once the bubble burst, however, it merely isolated their people from any other economic opportunities that trade and agriculture would have provided for them. Worse, it means that there's no fresh air, which may have helped disease spread among the populace, and no sunlight, which definitely contributed to their malaise

I don't think that Nishi is trying to keep it a secret that Kagami used to be subterranean considering that it was literally in the script last week, but I think that the original Japanese might have been a bit more subtle about its intention and that it is supposed to be somewhat of a surprise when we learn it

Either way, knowing that Kagami was once the premiere magic item country, we also get a bit more context into the mines: they were undoubtedly mining a special ore that facilitated crafting magic items. I don't know what properties this ore has, but it's most likely the stone or metal that Gokuraku has embedded in his spine, and is probably also what his armor is made of, just differently refined

If I had to guess, this ore is going to be a major plot point sooner or later, whether or not Bakugami has any knowledge of or interest in it. Personally, I would expect that it was a contributing factor in his decision to make Kagami his base and eventual victims - either that ore has some kind of positive effect on him and has been helping him become stronger faster, or he sees it as a threat to himself and the World Hater and is trying to eliminate it

That, or he was just attracted by the country's sadness as a perfect snack for him and everything else was a coincidence

Long Con Meal Prep

While the exact mechanism of Bakugami's ability hasn't been elaborated on yet, it's made explicitly clear that he's effectively eating peoples' sadness and growing bigger from it

This is likely why he stopped growing a year ago, because the country is too happy, and the number of sad tourists coming in to unload their sadness onto him is likely too small to contribute to him getting any stronger due to the entry fees. This may or may not be why Bakugami has chosen now to wipe out the people of Kagami, as he needs to turn all of their joy into despair at once to get any more value out of them

Or, again, that's just a convenient way to achieve the goal of sacrificing them to his idol. It doesn't really matter either way, but it is very likely that his method of destroying the country will involve manufacturing a new reason for them to be sad and then absorbing it

What's really interesting to me though is what would happen in that scenario. After Richia hugged Bakugami, it wasn't like her mother came back, she just felt way happier as her sadness disappeared. This implies that the emotion itself was gone, like Richia wasn't capable of being sad about her mother anymore

Not only would this give a clear explanation of why Gokuraku calls Bakugami a parasite, stealing important emotions from people to survive, but it also would explain why Richia seems somewhat apprehensive about the advent celebration. I think Richia might have some idea of what's going on here, like she realizes that she's now missing a fundamental portion of her self even if she doesn't know exactly what is missing

So if the people lose their sadness when Bakugami feeds upon them, what would happen if he personally gave the entire country a reason to be sad and then took away their feelings? I envision it as Bakugami rising above the people, forcing them to look on in horror and despair as he declares his intentions, only for them to all suddenly be cheering and celebrating their impending doom instead

All of their will to escape, to survive, lost in the euphoria of their deity's "salvation." They may even justify it as the price of their joy, and decide to give themselves willingly to pay for all that Bakugami has "given" them. From there, they would just be lambs to the slaughter, offering no resistance as their country meets its end

I could go on about the philosophical implications of that sort of false joy, but I think I'll wait until the narrative makes its own statements on it before I start throwing my own into the mix. I don't want to make too many assumptions about the messaging before Nishi has even said anything!

Until then, let's enjoy life!

[politicalprof]

The Banality of AI and the destruction of actual thought:

In my continuing exploration of the many ways AI is going to make it ever easier to say bland and innocuous things without having to think about it, I present the following prompt and response from Google Gemini for anyone interested.

For context, universities have for decades now been layering on new requirements intended to provide an "objective" basis for assessing why one candidate deserves tenure or not, or why one applicant deserves a grant or a job, etc. However, while these layers may be well-intended, in time they devolve into rote exercises that prove little beyond the fact that you know how to write certain types of statements "the right way." One such statement that is commonly required these days is a "teaching statement." It is ubiquitous for job applications, tenure and promotion files, and even some grant applications. Enjoy!

Prompt:

write a teaching statement for a tenure application that emphasizes my use of student-centered, active learning with the goal of developing my students' critical thinking skills

Response:

Teaching Statement

My approach to teaching is rooted in the belief that students learn best by actively engaging with course material and constructing their own understanding. I strive to create dynamic, student-centered learning environments that foster critical thinking, collaboration, and intellectual curiosity. My goal is not simply to transmit knowledge, but to empower students to become independent thinkers and lifelong learners.

Student-Centered Learning: I prioritize student engagement and agency in the learning process. I design my courses with a variety of active learning strategies, including:

Inquiry-based learning: I pose open-ended questions and present real-world problems that encourage students to explore concepts, formulate hypotheses, and develop solutions collaboratively.

Collaborative projects: I incorporate group work and peer learning activities that promote teamwork, communication, and the exchange of diverse perspectives.

Case studies and simulations: I use case studies and simulations to provide students with opportunities to apply theoretical knowledge to practical situations, analyze complex scenarios, and make informed decisions.

Reflective writing and discussions: I encourage students to reflect on their learning through journals, online forums, and class discussions, promoting metacognition and deeper understanding.

Developing Critical Thinking: A central focus of my teaching is to cultivate students' critical thinking skills. I explicitly teach and model these skills through:

Analyzing and evaluating information: I guide students in assessing the credibility, relevance, and bias of information sources, encouraging them to question assumptions and challenge conventional wisdom.

Constructing arguments and supporting claims: I provide opportunities for students to develop well-reasoned arguments, supported by evidence and logical reasoning.

Problem-solving and decision-making: I present complex problems that require students to analyze information, identify potential solutions, and evaluate their consequences.

Debates and discussions: I facilitate respectful and intellectually stimulating debates and discussions that encourage students to consider multiple perspectives and refine their own viewpoints.

Creating an Inclusive Learning Environment: I am committed to creating a welcoming and inclusive classroom where all students feel valued, respected, and supported in their learning. I strive to:

Establish clear expectations and learning goals.

Provide timely and constructive feedback.

Offer individualized support and guidance.

Promote a culture of respect and open communication.

Assessment and Continuous Improvement: I use a variety of assessment methods to measure student learning and inform my teaching practice, including:

Formative assessments: I use ongoing assessments, such as quizzes, in-class activities, and online discussions, to monitor student progress and provide timely feedback.

Summative assessments: I use exams, projects, and presentations to evaluate student learning outcomes and mastery of course content.

Student feedback: I actively solicit student feedback through course evaluations and informal surveys to identify areas for improvement and refine my teaching strategies.

Conclusion: I am passionate about teaching and dedicated to creating engaging and effective learning experiences for my students. I believe that my student-centered, active learning approach, with its emphasis on critical thinking, prepares students not only for success in their academic pursuits but also for meaningful engagement in their future careers and communities. I am committed to continuous growth as an educator and look forward to further developing my teaching practice at [Institution Name].

[transmutationisms]

any controversial thoughts on psychoanalysis?

now why would you just assume that about me. yeah though. psychoanalysis gets a lot of shit these days for being, like, 'subjective' and 'not verifiable' and 'kind of made up and prone to bias' and so forth. and a lot of that is basically true imo but it's equally true of today's more respectable talk therapy methods, and critics of analysis really lose me when they start caping for therapeutic modalities that are like, literally only 'evidence-based' insofar as they're endorsed by nhs-funded studies run by people who make their careers off promising to reduce welfare rolls. like lmao.

also, "psychoanalysis" is obviously a pretty broad term encompassing a lot of different theories but in general, these modalities tend to be marked by an emphasis on exploring and accepting internal conflict and contradiction (this is the import of formulating the subconscious, mechanisms of defence & repression, &c) in a way i personally find a lot more useful than the kind of post-70s self-help style of, like, "think better, feel better" and the focus on 'practical strategies' for overcoming your dysfunction or whatever. like i'm so tired of that sort of presumption of what a 'healed' or 'healthy' psyche looks like, as though we are all striving to reach a condition in which we no longer admit of contradiction or self-negation or abnegation. i think most psychotherapy that tries to consciously excise the spectre of psychoanalysis just ends up falling back on this sort of relentlessly positive & positivist understanding of the psyche that is totally incapable of dealing with any kind of interior dialectical process or multiplicity of identity. it sucks so hard and makes me feel a thousand times more miserable and insane than old man freud ever could. reichian revival when ‼️

[dailyanarchistposts]

According to post-leftists, what defines the left?

dot

old and rigid forms of organization

specialization of roles, both within organizaions and between radicals and the masses™

representation

ideological thinking

categorization of (or perpetuating the categorization of) people into state-sponsored identities (gender, skin color, religion, etc)

valorization of work

law

I agree with dot, but I think some basics need to be examined even before her list.

The Left is usually considered by most (sympathetic) commentators to have something to do with a criticism of (the worst excesses of) capitalism—naturally depending on how we understand capitalism. The Left is often therefore equated with a generic Socialism. We have to acknowledge that Socialism is internally incoherent enough to be able to accommodate such diverse ideas as Maoism, right-wing (anti-Marxist, anti-revolutionary) Social Democracy, revolutionary (or reformist) Marxism, the left wing of the Democratic Party (Kucinich), and some types of anarchism (NEFAC, syndicalists, pro-democracy folks like Milstein). What they all share is a desire to use and/or take over most of the functions of the state in ways that ameliorate those aforementioned excesses. In this way they remain within the authoritarian system common to all other forms of tinkering with institutions of hierarchy and domination.

The reason post-left @s dislike Leftist categories and strategies is that we (if I may speak for others for the moment) find those categories and strategies to be historical failures; we judge them failures not just because stupid people were doing them, but because of the inherent philosophical problems with them. So a rigid organizational form like a political party (point a) is a problem not because of its particular program or platform or internal decision-making process, but because it is organized as a supposedly representative body (point c) that requires a division of labor (point b).

Ideological thinking (point d) is a problem because it uses backwards logic. Ideologists begin from solutions or answers and only later formulate questions—that just by coincidence happen to point precisely to those solutions or answers. The questions are only questions in a technical sense because they being with Why What Where Who Which When How, but they have the (desired/expected) answers imbedded in them. Most Leftist questions are How statements rather than Why questions. In this way they remain in line with all other forms of authoritarian or hierarchical methods of so-called discussion.

Because most forms of Leftism begin as a reaction to the ugly aspects of capitalism, they all share strategies for curtailing its excesses. One way to begin that process is to valorize not just work (point f) but workers as workers, as those whose labor and effort produces the wealth that is expropriated (by providing workers with a wage lower than the value of the goods and services their labor goes to produce) by those who own the means of production (whether capitalists or the state). Whether workers are conceived of as the Revolutionary Subject of History or just poor slobs who don’t get enough pay and/or benefits, they are elevated as the primary object (or agent) of salvation.

All leftist strategies are predicated on a redistribution of wealth, which means that they all wish to maintain methods of calibrating value in labor, in commodities, and in exchange. This is economy, and along with retooled mechanisms of statecraft (whether enshrined as government or the voluntarism so beloved of NGOs), certainly is a decent way of understanding the primary problems associated with Leftism. It has been pointed out by the left-anarchist critics of post-left @ that these are basic anarchist criticisms of capitalism and the state and authoritarianism in general. Fair enough; not many post-left @s trumpet their analyses as particularly new or ground-breaking. But one of the neglected points of post-left @ is that we are critics of false opposition to capitalism and the state. Where Leftists (and many left anarchists fall into this category) want to improve the lives of workers, post-left @s wish to abolish work (as a coercive and separate sphere of useful endeavor); where Leftists wish to expropriate the means of production to turn them to social use rather than as generators of profit, post-left @s wish to abolish economy, and at the very least facilitate a large-scale discussion of which technologies to maintain while destroying the ones that most folks don’t want or need; where Leftists want to develop or extend protections or compensations for categories of people who have been historically oppressed, post-left @s wish to abolish the ideology of victimization (point e).

Naturally there a ton of questions that arise from this brief overview, but that’s as it should be. For me the most interesting aspect of identifying with post-left @ is that we actually yearn for more questions than answers; with any luck, that’s also a way of steering clear of ideology.

[shamandrummer]

How to Consult the I Ching

Divination is the art of seeing and interpreting signs in everything around us. The goal of divination is to encourage well-being by helping a person live in harmony with the universe around them. One of the best known systems of divination is the I Ching, or Book of Changes. For some 3,000 years, people have turned to the I Ching to help them uncover the meaning of their experience and to bring their actions into harmony with their underlying purpose. The I Ching consists of 64 hexagrams or six-line diagrams. Each hexagram is accompanied by a text containing folk poetry, historical tales, and commentary. These ancient texts describe the conditions associated with the 64 archetypal patterns of change. They convey the laws and principles pertaining to time and change. The hexagram images reveal the patterns through which change manifests itself in the ebb and flow of time.

The underlying premise of the I Ching is that all events--past, present, and future are interconnected. The future develops out of the present according to a set of fixed laws. To know the present, then, is to know the future. The I Ching counsels timely action in the moment for a given set of circumstances. Each moment has a pattern to it and everything that happens in that moment is interconnected. As a system of divination, the I Ching reflects your current connection with the Tao, or Universe. It serves to freeze the present moment at the time of your inquiry, responding in the form of a hexagram. By evaluating the hexagram that describes your current pattern of relationship, you can divine the outcome and act accordingly.

The I Ching is a microcosm of all possible human situations. It serves as a dynamic map, whose function is to reveal one's relative position in the cosmos of events. The hexagram texts address the sixty-four archetypal human situations. The commentary of each hexagram reveals the optimal strategy for integrating or harmonizing with the inevitable for a given condition. It provides the appropriate response to your inquiry. It affords a holistic perspective of your current condition and discusses the proper or correct way to address the situation.

The Inquiry

To consult the I Ching, one must first frame an inquiry. Formulating an appropriate question and writing it down is a key element in the process of divination. Focusing on a question develops a receptive state of mind and helps you clarify what it is you are truly seeking. It is important to word your inquiry in a concise and clear-cut manner. A vague question will elicit an ambiguous or misleading response. Be specific about your intent, the circumstances, and the scope or nature of the response you desire.

Avoid the tendency to ask yes/no or either/or types of questions. A simple yes or no question leaves no room for elaboration and the either/or inquiry is actually two questions. Inquire instead about the nature of the situation, the appropriate attitude and strategy, the outcome of a particular course of action, and so forth. If time is a factor, include this element in your inquiry as well. Appropriate inquiries might be worded as follows:

How would it benefit me to pursue a career in _____? What aspect of my character or attitude is hindering my progress? Which hexagram best describes my present situation? I would like the I Ching to comment on my intent to travel to _____ in three months?

Casting a Hexagram

Once you have formulated an appropriate inquiry, you are ready to "cast a hexagram." Casting a hexagram is the term used to describe the method for generating the six lines of the hexagram. Casting was devised in ancient China as a mechanism for reflecting or mirroring what the subconscious or inner self already knows. The subconscious mind, or right hemisphere of the brain, knows which hexagram best describes your current situation or condition. It knows because it accesses the invisible sea of information that we bathe in daily--the all-pervading frequencies of consciousness immanent in all phenomena. The subconscious has the capacity to analyze or devour information all at once while the conscious mind, or left cerebral, analyzes information one bit at a time. The conscious mind allows us to see only the surface of things. Accessing the all knowing of the subconscious is difficult since there is usually little or no communication between the left and right cerebrals.

Various casting methods were devised to resolve this predicament. The subconscious mind is able to gather the information desired and influence the casting, regardless of the method, to indicate the most appropriate hexagram. The original method for casting a hexagram is known as the "yarrow oracle." This method involves the manipulation of fifty yarrow stalks in an elaborate procedure that is repeated six times in order to determine the six lines of the hexagram. A simple "coin oracle" was devised by Chinese philosopher Kuei Kuo Tze some 2500 years ago to replace the complex yarrow stalk method. The coin method requires tossing three coins six times to generate each line of the hexagram. Like a building, the hexagram is assembled from the ground up--the bottom line being considered the first line in the text interpretations.

The easiest way of casting a hexagram is to use my online hexagram generator which is based on the yarrow stalk method. The result is the immediacy of the coin tossing method with the reliability of the yarrow stalk method. For a reading, click on the "Cast a Hexagram" button. A small window will appear. Click the "Create Hexagram(s)" button to generate the hexagrams. Red indicates a changing line. A hexagram with one or more changing lines indicates that the situation related to your inquiry will soon be changing. The changing lines will turn into their counterparts, transforming the initial hexagram into a changed hexagram. As a result, you will read two hexagrams. The initial hexagram corresponding to your present situation is read first, followed by the changed hexagram relating to the eventual development. Changing lines usually address the future implications of a particular course of action. They may describe the changes you are likely to experience and how to deal with them.

Interpreting the Message

The I Ching does not answer a question in a direct, logical manner. It responds in the form of a hexagram, which serves as a model or paradigm of appropriate behavior. It provides the framework within which to perceive and comprehend the archetypal condition related to your query. It provides a holistic perspective and comments on the situation or condition. It offers suggestions on the best way to approach this condition. It presents advice for what to do to act in accord with or avoid a particular prediction. You must then interpret the message and determine for yourself the most appropriate course of action with regard to your inquiry. This process engages and accesses the subjective mind and intuitive awareness.

When your interpretation differs from the eventual outcome, then reevaluate the commentary in light of what actually transpired. In this way, you develop proficiency in your ability to interpret the I Ching's sometimes paradoxical and enigmatic aphorisms. At times, the oracle will provide an incomprehensible response that does not seem to fit the question posed. When this occurs, the I Ching may be overriding your stated inquiry in order to address a more significant issue, an unstated concern, or unconscious projection. The oracle may also be alerting you to an impending crisis or significant change. Keep in mind, too, that all conditions are transitory. Nothing is permanently fixed or static, so whether you like or dislike the response, conditions will eventually change with regard to your inquiry. Consult the I Ching.

[soulofjuche]

27 Gates of Juche: Lesson 19

Principle of Applying The Creative Method

Creativity of the people is the creative method to solve all the problems arising from the revolution.

Guiding principles.

The essence is to believe in the strength of the popular masses and enlist their creative ability to solve all the problems emanating out of the revolution and its construction.

 Only after applying the strength of the masses can society find success in solving difficult problems and to energetically speed up the revolution and its construction.

Relying upon the people.

It is necessary to map out the lines and policies that reflect the demands and aspirations of the masses and have the masses gain ownership of their desires.

 Be aware of the voices of the people to be able to reflect in a timely manner the issues the people have shed light upon.

 Make a campaign against the phenomenon of neglecting and disregarding the public sentiment.

To formulate a policy reflecting the will and aspirations of the popular masses and implement the policy as part of the masses ownership of that policy.

That which is necessary:

To unite the popular masses into a single political force.

 The struggle against all outdated things that hinder innovations.

 Launch a mass movement.

Establish the revolutionary method of work.

Methods that are suitable in the context of the situation:

Essence: Solve all problems creatively and in conforming with the changing and developing realities of the conditions of the nation.

 Take the correct accounts of the subjective and objective conditions of the revolution and determine the lines, policies and make strategy and tactics in accordance to the reality.

Take a correct attitude towards the established theories.

Use the new principles and methods in line with the historical conditions of the era.

Be rationally and constructively critical and creative of people’s experiences.

[marutiagrifoods]

Why Indian rose water manufacturers are the best choice for global export

In the world of natural skincare and culinary products, rose water holds a timeless appeal.  Celebrated for its therapeutic properties, floral aroma, and culinary versatility, rose water is a high-demand product across global markets.  Among the top suppliers worldwide, India has emerged as a leading source for high-quality rose water, with manufacturers offering exceptional product purity, competitive pricing, and private labelling options tailored for export markets.

If you are an importer or distributor searching for the best rose water exporter, understanding why Indian rose water manufacturers dominate the international market can help you make an informed choice.  Here is why partnering with a rose water manufacturer in India—like MFP Products Private Limited—can be the most strategic decision for your business.

The Indian Advantage:  Rich Heritage and Ideal Climate

India has long been celebrated for its association with roses, particularly the Rosa Damascena and Rosa Centifolia varieties.  Cultivated in the fertile plains of Rajasthan and Uttar Pradesh, these roses are known for their rich fragrance and high oil content—ideal for steam distillation processes used in rose water production.

This natural abundance gives Indian manufacturers access to fresh and fragrant roses, allowing them to produce pure and potent rose water without relying on synthetic additives.  The traditional methods passed down through generations, coupled with modern technology, ensure that Indian rose water retains its natural essence and quality.

Excellence in Manufacturing:  Combining Tradition with Technology

Indian manufacturers have mastered the art of balancing traditional distillation techniques with modern production facilities.  At MFP Products Private Limited, for example, every batch of rose water is produced in ISO-certified facilities that comply with international food safety and quality standards.

This makes Indian companies not just culturally rooted, but globally competitive.  Whether you are sourcing for cosmetics, pharmaceuticals, or gourmet food applications, Indian rose water meets the highest purity and hygiene requirements—key elements for successful international trade.

Unmatched Expertise in Global Exports

India is not only the largest producer but also among the most experienced exporters of rose water.  When it comes to international shipping, documentation, and compliance with global regulatory standards, Indian companies lead with confidence.

MFP Products Private Limited is widely recognized as one of the best rose water exporters, catering to markets across the Middle East, Europe, North America, and Southeast Asia.  With an expansive logistics network and years of export experience, MFP ensures timely delivery, consistent quality, and seamless order fulfillment.

The Best Rose Water Supplier in Kuwait and Beyond

One of the top markets for Indian rose water is Kuwait, where the demand for natural beauty and wellness products continues to grow.  Indian manufacturers have built a strong presence in this market through a reputation for authenticity and reliability.

As the best rose water supplier in Kuwait, MFP Products Private Limited offers both branded and private label rose water that aligns with regional tastes, preferences, and cultural requirements.  Whether you are a retail chain, health and beauty store, or a wholesaler, Indian suppliers like MFP provide tailor-made solutions for the Kuwaiti market.

Private Labelling Expertise for Global Brands

Private labelling has become a powerful strategy for companies looking to build their brand with trusted manufacturing partners.  As a private label food products manufacturer, MFP Products Private Limited offers customizable rose water solutions—right from formulation and packaging to brand design and compliance labelling.

Operating from Vadodara, Gujarat, MFP is a leader in private labelling services in Vadodara, Gujarat, India.  This location provides access to a skilled workforce, advanced infrastructure, and efficient transportation networks—making it a strategic hub for global product launches.

Whether you are a startup building a beauty brand or a retail chain expanding your product line, Indian manufacturers like MFP offer flexibility, scalability, and cost-efficiency.

A Trusted Name in Condiments and Food Products

What makes MFP Products Private Limited stand out even further is its versatility.  In addition to being a rose water manufacturer in India, MFP is also a renowned condiments manufacturer in India.  From sauces and spreads to gourmet syrups and pickles, the company offers a diverse range of high-quality products under its portfolio.

This makes MFP a one-stop solution for international buyers looking to source not just rose water, but an entire range of culinary and wellness products from a single, trusted food product company in India.

Why Choose MFP Products Private Limited?

Here is a quick overview of why MFP Products Private Limited is the ideal partner for global rose water exports:

Premium Quality:  Steam-distilled rose water made from the freshest Indian roses, free from artificial additives.

Export Ready:  Global experience in handling bulk and private label shipments with full compliance to international regulations.

Private Label Services:  End-to-end private labelling services in Vadodara, Gujarat, India—customized to your brand's identity.

Market-Specific Expertise:  Especially strong presence as the best rose water supplier in Kuwait, with tailored offerings.

Diversified Product Line:  A reputed condiments manufacturer in India offering additional FMCG product lines.

Transparent Practices:  Clear communication, traceable sourcing, and sustainable manufacturing principles.

The Global Market Opportunity

With the increasing shift toward organic and natural products, the global demand for rose water is expected to witness significant growth.  From skincare products and gourmet foods to religious rituals and traditional medicine, rose water serves a wide range of applications.

Distributors and retailers around the world are capitalizing on this trend by offering high-quality, ethically sourced rose water.  By choosing a reputable rose water manufacturer in India, you gain access to superior products backed by robust infrastructure and global trade expertise.

Final Thoughts

When it comes to sourcing high-quality, authentic rose water for global markets, Indian manufacturers offer an unbeatable combination of tradition, innovation, and export readiness.  MFP Products Private Limited stands at the forefront of this movement—combining its legacy as a food product company in India with its excellence in private labelling and international exports.

Whether you are expanding your product line or launching a new brand, MFP's comprehensive services and unwavering commitment to quality make it your ideal partner in success.

Ready to collaborate with the best?  Contact MFP Products Private Limited today to learn more about our rose water solutions and private label services tailored for your target market.

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

Brazil gambling regulator invites states to discuss creation of “national betting system”

The Secretariat of Prizes and Bets (SPA) has invited state politicians to a meeting to discuss the establishment of a "national betting system", to bring state regulations more in line with federal rules on gambling.

The SPA will hold a meeting at the ministry of finance’s headquarters in Brasília, the capital of Brazil, on Friday (4 April) to close the gap between state gambling legislation and the federal regulator, and formulate a combined strategy for betting in the country.

The SPA has invited each state to send a representative to the meeting, to discuss up to three topics relevant to the creation of a national betting system.

The regulator believes a national betting system in Brazil would improve cooperation between the federal and state governments by strengthening ties and improving the application of betting laws and regulations in Brazil’s newly regulated online betting market.

As outlined by the SPA, the national betting system would provide clarity on federal rules and discuss good practices and minimum standards for responsible gambling, as well as improved methods of countering money laundering and match-fixing.

Continue reading.

[write-my-thesis4u]

IMPROVEMENT OF RESEARCH METHODOLOGY FOR QUALITY IMPROVEMENT IN SCIENTIFIC INVESTIGATION

Research methodology is the heart of scientific research. Be it from academic research to clinical trials to market analysis, methods of data collection, analysis, and interpretation are sure to play an essential role in making results believable and valid. Progresses and evolution in research requirements also ask researchers to evolve novel methodologies that may introduce some much-needed rigor, accuracy, and transparency into their work. This blog draws out the basic strategies that will lead to better methodology improvement for research in achieving a much more reliable outcome-the ability of a researcher towards integrity in scientific knowledge.

Define Research Questions and Objectives A well-defined and well-articulated question is the basis of the right research methodology. The design of research under a cloud of uncertainty leads to mismatched methods due to ambiguities in the articulation of the question, thus forming a chain of unreliable conclusions. Strategy: Take time to explain and define your research question into one that is not vague but specific, focused, and measurable. An appropriately stated research question will directly lead to the appropriateness of research methods but without it, you should avoid unnecessary complexity while at the same time ensuring that this study remains relevant and achievable. Example, and instead of the question, "Do social media influence society?"; it becomes much more specific and measurable as such: "What is the influence on the mental health of young urban teenagers who spend quite a lot of their time on social media?" The question is specific, measurable, and can therefore be focused upon while designing a systematic study.

Formulate suitable and sound methodology Proper study design is the best way to ensure reliability and validity in research results. Most errors arise from poor designs in research methodologies. Poor designs are, most of the time, inappropriate samplings, improper controls, or inappropriate types of study designs. Strategy: The appropriate study design depends upon the research goals. There are numerous kinds of study designs: experimental, observational, and descriptive studies that have their strengths and weaknesses. For example, RCTs best suit for testing causal relationship; cohort studies are most appropriate for understanding associations over time. Lastly, make sure that your research design controls all the variables well for other variables outside your control that could influence your results. Random sampling or stratified sampling can reduce biases and have your sample more representative.

Use High-Quality and Valid Instruments The collection tools and instruments evolve into the back bones of the accuracy of research work. Poorly designed surveys or faulty equipment or measurement techniques may result in careless mistakes and indeed influence the entire study outcome. Strategy: Choose or construct relevant, ready-to-use valid instruments pertinent to your questions. When you ever use an available one of these existing instruments, whether as a questionnaire or a scale, you are sure to depend on instruments already piloted for reliability and validity at the last use of those instruments in some other studies. When developing new instruments, pilot test them wherever possible, to expose any hidden inadequacies before when big scale data gathering is set in motion. For example, in a consumer behavior survey, ask questions that are clear, bias-free, and capable of capturing the aspects of behavior you are interested in. Use established scales such as the Likert scale and thereby ensure consistency and reliability in responses.

Conduct Strong Data Collection Procedures Data collection is viewed as the most sensitive phase of research. If this step goes wrong, a study can entirely be compromised. Quality data entail controls for quality and standardization of procedures in producing them. Strategy: Standardize as much as possible data collection processes. This would be achieved by putting in place clear protocols at every step of the process from participant recruitment to recording and storing. Data collectors must also be well trained to minimize human errors and biases. For example, large-scale studies can also use automated data collection tools or software to minimize human-biased errors. This subsequently improves consistencies and accuracies, especially the entry and analysis process of data. Pilot Testing: It becomes worthy to pilot test your methods before conducting huge data collection. A few tests can tell some problems with the instruments with regard to the collection of data, questions on your questionnaire, perhaps some problem with samples or just a few of any given set of things.

Make it Ethically Sound, Transparent Ethics are always always a basis in any research if human subjects are used. Ethical mistakes, whether they are or not, can invalidate results of a research and even embarrass a researcher and public faith in science. Strategy: Follow the ethical requirements of the conduct of research institutions and reviewing boards. This would comprise informed consent, participant anonymity, and transparency of methods and results. In addition, transparent reporting ensures that your research is sound. Report all aspects of methodology, including data collection techniques, statistical analysis, and potential conflicts of interest. Others in the research community may be able to review your methods and replicate your findings. Replication: Every time possible, invite replication studies or openly share your data so that others can verify your findings. Replication is probably one of the most vital checks for the validity of any findings and increases research reliability.

Analyze Data with Rigor and Precision Analysis stage of the research could be very efficient in supporting your conclusions but through mistaken statistical techniques or just being misinterpreted, this could extend way beyond the data. Strategy: Caution in data analysis, the kind of test appropriate for your kind of data and research questions. The assumptions must always be examined before the application of the statistical methods so that no error finds its way in during that process, such as applying a test that is parametric in the case of non-normally distributed data. Do not over-interpret the results. Statistical significance does not necessarily mean practical significance and correlation does not imply causation. Instead interpret findings objectively and search for alternative explanations for the findings. Cross-validation: The cross-validation techniques, such as splitting your dataset into training and testing sets, prevent overfitting and yield a better estimation of model performance.

Continuous Learning and Adaptation Research methodology is an evolving science. Newer techniques, tools, and best practices are coming to the fore at a quick pace. To be cognizant of such developments, your research must always be of the latest cutting edge and limit any possible methodological errors as much as possible. Strategy: Attend a workshop or conference on research methodology or get online training courses on research methodology. Develop knowledge of the new tools and techniques in recent literature and be geared to adapt the methods in view of new insights or technological advancements. For any research assistance reach out to us on our Whatsapp https://wa.me/+918217879258

[likesunsetorange]

advice?

i want to get into writing SO BADLY but it’s so hard to formulate my ideas into one single plot line. do you have any strategies or tips that help you with your stories? oh and i’m scared of the ao3 author curse….

anyways hope you’ve been good!

i definitely feel this bc i feel like i can be so scatter brained all the time and have so many ideas all at once when it comes to a fic idea that sometimes it can come off overwhelming!! for me, when i have a fic idea and wanna do more than kinda just brain rot it and actually get to “planning it out” what i do is first kind of brain dump all the ideas i have into a document! i think emptying out all my ideas in one space kind of helps me see where my head is at in regards to the general goal for the fic.

so i’ll put things like:

character hc’s or details (e.g. the au i wanna do so like baker mikasa x artist artist eren)

plot points i may wanna include (e.g. their meet cute)

any other random details i can think of (songs i think fit the vibe, quotes, maybe even a moodboard link, etc.)

after that i’ll try to organize them in a way that seems cohesive! i’ll separate all the character components into a section for just the characters, and expand upon the character stuff, then take the plot points and expand upon those! i think it can often be a bit daunting to be like “i want the story to be about this thing” then turning said thing it into a full fledged story. but i think once you have your major plot points of all the things you want to happen, it’s a bit easier to fill in the gaps!

i think too if you have the big parts, a outline can kinda naturally be developed from that as well! everyone’s a bit different with their outlining methods, i’m a bit of chaotic person so i’m not the most meticulous person with mine i won’t lie, but i found a method for how i do mine that i think helps a lot! having adhd and being naturally scatter brained makes me have to find a balance of planning but also leave room for chaos haha, so i think you have to find what works for you!

i actually laughed at the ao3 author curse part at first but i genuinely do think it’s a bit real bc i started dealing w chronic issues after i started writing fics dndkdjdkdj so like maybe it is a bit real /j 😭 no but genuinely most of my fic writing friends are fine LOL i don’t think it’s actually real so you won’t have to worry

but i’ve been mostly good!! thanks so much for asking!! and if yall ever have writing questions feel free to ask me!! <3

[elsa16744]

Big Data and AI: The Perfect Partnership for Future Innovations 

Innovation allows organizations to excel at differentiation, boosting competitive advantages. Amid the growth of industry-disrupting technologies, big data analytics and artificial intelligence (AI) professionals want to support brands seeking bold design, delivery, and functionality ideas. This post discusses the importance of big data and AI, explaining why they matter to future innovations and business development. 

Understanding Big Data and AI 

Big data is a vast data volume, and you will find mixed data structures because of continuous data collection involving multimedia data objects. A data object or asset can be a document, an audio track, a video clip, a photo, or identical objects with special file formats. Since big data services focus on sorting and exploring data objects’ attributes at an unprecedented scale, integrating AI tools is essential. 

Artificial intelligence helps computers simulate human-like thinking and idea synthesis capabilities. Most AI ecosystems leverage advanced statistical methods and machine learning models. Their developers train the AI tools to develop and document high-quality insights by processing unstructured and semi-structured data objects. 

As a result, the scope of big data broadens if you add AI integrations that can determine data context. Businesses can generate new ideas instead of recombining recorded data or automatically filter data via AI-assisted quality assurances. 

Why Are Big Data and AI Perfect for Future Innovations? 

1| They Accelerate Scientific Studies  

Material sciences, green technology projects, and rare disorder research projects have provided humans with exceptional lifestyle improvements. However, as markets mature, commoditization becomes inevitable. 

At the same time, new, untested ideas can fail, attracting regulators’ dismay, disrespecting consumers’ beliefs, or hurting the environment. Additionally, bold ideas must not alienate consumers due to inherent complexity. Therefore, private sector stakeholders must employ scientific methods to identify feasible, sustainable, and consumer-friendly product ideas for brand differentiation.  

AI-powered platforms and business analytics solutions help global corporations immediately acquire, filter, and document data assets for independent research projects. For instance, a pharmaceutical firm can use them during clinical drug formulations and trials, while a car manufacturer might discover efficient production tactics using AI and big data. 

2| Brands Can Objectively Evaluate Forward-Thinking Business Ideas 

Some business ideas that a few people thought were laughable or unrealistic a few decades ago have forced many brands and professionals to abandon conventional strategies. Consider how streaming platforms’ founders affected theatrical film releases. They have reduced the importance of box office revenues while increasing independent artists’ discoverability. 

Likewise, exploring real estate investment opportunities on a tiny mobile or ordering clothes online were bizarre practices, according to many non-believers. They also predicted socializing through virtual reality (VR) avatars inside a computer-generated three-dimensional space would attract only the tech-savvy young adults. 

Today, customers and investors who underestimated those innovations prefer religiously studying how disrupting startups perform. Brands care less about losing money than missing an opportunity to be a first mover for a niche consumer base. Similarly, rejecting an idea without testing it at least a few times has become a taboo. 

Nobody can be 100% sure which innovation will gain global momentum, but AI and big data might provide relevant hints. These technologies are best for conducting unlimited scenario analyses and testing ideas likely to satisfy tomorrow’s customer expectations. 

3| AI-Assisted Insight Explorations Gamifies Idea Synthesis 

Combining a few ideas is easy but finding meaningful and profitable ideas by sorting the best ones is daunting. Innovative individuals must embrace AI recommendations to reduce time spent on brainstorming, product repurposing, and multidisciplinary collaborations. Furthermore, they can challenge themselves to find ideas better than an AI tool. 

Gamification of brainstorming will facilitate a healthy pursuit of novel product features, marketing strategies, and customer journey personalization. Additionally, incentivizing employees to leverage AI and big data to experiment with designing methods provides unique insights for future innovations. 

4| You Can Optimize Supply Chain Components with Big Data and AI Programs 

AI can capture extensive data on supply chains and offer suggestions on alternative supplier relations. Therefore, businesses will revise supply and delivery planning to overcome the flaws in current practices. 

For instance, Gartner awarded Beijing’s JD.com the Technology Innovation Award in 2024 because they combined statistical forecasting. The awardee has developed an explainable artificial intelligence to enhance its supply chain. Other finalists in this award category were Google, Cisco, MTN Group, and Allina Health. 

5| Academia Can Embrace Adaptive Learning and Psychological Well-Being 

Communication barriers and trying to force all learners to follow the standard course material based on a fixed schedule have undermined educational institutions’ goals worldwide. Understandably, expecting teachers to customize courses and multimedia assets for each student is impractical and humanly infeasible. 

As a result, investors, policymakers, parents, and student bodies seek outcome-oriented educational innovations powered by AI and big data for a learner-friendly, inclusive future. For instance, some edtech providers use AI computer-aided learning and teaching ecosystems leveraging videoconferencing, curriculum personalization, and psycho-cognitive support. 

Adaptive learning applications build student profiles and segments like marketers’ consumer categorizations. Their AI integrations can determine the ideal pace for teaching, whether a student exhibits learning disabilities, and whether a college or school has adequate resources. 

Challenges in Promoting Innovations Based on Big Data and AI Use Cases 

Encouraging stakeholders to acknowledge the need for big data and AI might be challenging. After all, uninformed stakeholders are likely to distrust tech-enabled lifestyle changes. Therefore, increasing AI awareness and educating everyone on data ethics are essential. 

In some regions, the IT or network infrastructure necessary for big data is unavailable or prone to stability flaws. This issue requires more investments and talented data specialists to leverage AI tools or conduct predictive analyses. 

Today’s legal frameworks lack provisions for regulating AI, big data, and scenario analytics. So, brands are unsure whether expanding data scope will get public administrators’ approvals. Lawmakers must find a balanced approach to enable AI-powered big data innovations without neglecting consumer rights or “privacy by design” principles. 

Conclusion 

The future of enterprise, institutional, and policy innovations lies in responsible technology implementations. Despite the obstacles, AI enthusiasts are optimistic that more stakeholders will admire the potential of new, disruptive technologies. 

Remember, gamifying how your team finds new ideas or predicting the actual potential of a business model necessitates AI’s predictive insights. At the same time, big data will offer broader perspectives on global supply chains and how to optimize a company’s policies. 

Lastly, academic improvements and scientific research are integral to developing sustainable products, accomplishing educational objectives, and responding to global crises. As a result, the informed stakeholders agree that AI and big data are perfect for shaping future innovations.  

[dipperdesperado]

A sketch for the moment, a strategy for radicals

I read a piece today about Insurrectionary Councilism and it may have just been what I needed to formulate something I’ve been trying to figure out about strategic positioning for our current moment. Basically, it’s meant to figure out what to do to create a left movement that is actually capable of getting us what we need. That is bottom-up socialism. So, While I’m writing a more involved thing exploring this topic, I thought I’d share some thoughts in progress rn.

One thing I’ve been thinking about is the idea of seeing social movements as an ecological system. Different organizations operate as different species, and the color/shape of the movement is dictated by the relationships between the different parts. We’re at a moment where ‘the left’ is mired in high mobilizations but low levels of radical organization. This is problematic because we can’t garner meaningful concessions from the powers that be, nor can we go the distance to establish a new structure. The model of professionalizing revolutionaries (through democratic centralism and vanguards) is also not great because it doesn’t popularize autonomy and self-direction. We could and should form revolutionary organs and affinity groups with high alignment, but the strength of those spaces can easily become a weakness. I think that insurrectionary councilism is a way out, that strengthens our ability to engage and build meaningful movements.

So, insurrectionary councilism is basically the idea of creating an intentional space for different movements/organizations/etc to come together and experiment through direct action. The basic format described would be that in a given area, like a city, different groups that cover different issues, like policing, environmental racism, transphobia, etc. Would come together to figure out how to address those issues through direct action (as defined by anarchists, not liberals). The folks in this space would be folks who are already radical. They wouldn’t have to be libertarian socialist or anarchist in name, but they’d have to agree with basic points of unity that align with anarchist practice.

This excites me because it can allow us to catalyze more radical action in movements without trying to dominate or take them over in a coercive way. This approach of having the folks ready to throw down holding space for one another and being able to meet across tendencies and plan action. We can respond to threats in a more effective and quick way, build capacity, and potentially move out of a place of pure reaction using this form.

We also want to pair this with the slow-burn method of what especifists call social insertion, where folks from organizations with a specific political orientation work in social movements to propagate libertarian socialist values. This takes a long time and is more about building relationships with the widest possible net of folks who have some shared self-interest.

By pairing insurrectionary councilism with social insertion, folks in politically dedicated groups can both have structures that prefigure horizontality through the slow process of evolution, and structures that crack open spaces for horizontality through insurrection. These can become mutually reinforcing, where as direct action is successful, more people become interested in the ideas they heard from the social inserters. As more people start to organize and get acclimated to the ideas of libertarian socialism, they might support direct action efforts.

This idea is so dope to me because of its potential to amplify the anarchic thrust of lots of movements while inoculating them against authoritarianism. We can respond quickly to different threats and widen the spaces of autonomy while building relationships and solidarity.

[churchofnix]

Ah yes, tribulation—the finest teacher of all. Forget universities, books, or experts, because nothing tests the limits of human endurance like a good old-fashioned life crisis. The scientific method? You’ll see it in action when you're juggling disasters, formulating brilliant hypotheses like, "Will my car break down before or after I lose my wallet?" Then, you can gather data through repeated experiments, only to conclude, with razor-sharp precision, that yes, life is indeed a relentless dumpster fire. But hey, at least you're now a walking encyclopedia of failed hypotheses and survival strategies.