#and coding is much more distracting as a 2nd activity

[aphel1on]

listening to podcasts when you have adhd+auditory processing issues is so funny. i'm on season 3 of the magnus archives and the plot is heating up and i suddenly realized that i understand only like 50-70% of what is happening. several minor characters i barely remember at all. sometimes i would skip back in an episode if i realized i missed something important but HALF THE TIME I WOULD SPACE OUT AT THE SAME MOMENT AND MISS IT AGAIN.

so i found the transcripts on the website and have gradually been reading through all the episodes like a horror short story anthology. and i keep making connections like OH SHIIIIT THAT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE🤯

Information i learn from audio simply does not tend to stick in my mind the same way as the written word, assuming i even comprehend all the spoken words in the first place😭

[maiss25]

to kickstart the 2nd unit of the year, we refreshed our memories about each decade in fashion history ranging from the 1920s to the 1980s. to do this we did collaborative text mind maps, to complete this we scan a qr code on our phone and there are 5 text boxes. in these we type a trend, designer or an iconic moment and submit our answer. it then pops up on the board and we all see what everyone puts, however it is anonymous. we can submit as many answers as we want depending on how much we remembered. we got up to the 40s and then we couldn’t continue with this activity because there were no more free uses left. however to make sure that we had substantial information for our blogs, our tutor went back and did the rest for us.

-

after we did this we then had to pick a decade at random out of lots of little pieces of paper that were in a clear folder. the options were again through the decade 1920 to 1980. i chose the 1940s which at first i wasn’t happy with because i thought it was a boring era in the fashion world. however after a few minutes of thinking i realised it wasn’t, it was a very eventful decade for fashion!! things like world war 2 and hollywood were happening in this era so i decided i was happy with what i had chosen.

-

we were then instructed to create 4 moodboards (not of clothing) of things from that era. it could be things like major political events, architecture, toys, anything!! i decided to choose architecture, swing jazz, hollywood and hair and accessories.

-

to create these moodboards we had to look through magazines and books to gather images for them, we could also use the internet. i found trying to get pictures for this that weren’t from the internet challenging because there were no books in the library from the 40s and the magazines in class start from the 60s. luckily i was shown a couple books by my tutor that i could photocopy things out of and i could use the internet. because i had no imagery from magazines i looked for words instead that i could stick onto my moodboards which sum them up.

-

i also found presenting it hard at first, but with some help i was soon on my way and completed all 4 of them. we could also add little drawings on them which i found elevated them even more.

-

-

i decided to complete my 4 moodboards based on the following themes; architecture, hollywood, swing jazz, hair and accessories.

-

i took the idea to do architecture from my tutor as she recommended considering it to be one of our moodboards as it’s very good to take inspiration from. this is how i also got the idea to do hair and accessories. the two i decided to do were hollywood and swing jazz. i chose these as they both had significant impacts on america and the people living there. hollywood movies distracted people from the great depression and swing jazz was helping racism to slowly be a thing of the past as people enjoyed this type of music.

-

if i were to do anything differently i would definitely change one of my boards to the ending of world war two, probably the hair and accessories one. i would do this because this event had such a big impact on the 40s and changed everyone’s lives.

[dbphantom]

Shout out to one of my bffs who lets me ramble incessantly about my fic and not only replies with in-depth responses but actually actively encourages the rambling:

I love you and would/will die for you

Here's a summary of the stuff we were taking about (Rex almost dying to Annie, prom night, a small frog evo, Rex joining the school's robotics club, and some background holix because these two are just too cute together)

So chapter 7 right

The first time Rex meets Annie it's because he sits in her seat during first period and immediately gets tripped and faceplants into the desk, giving him a bloody nose and destroying the desk

Their teacher notices (all teachers who arent directly mentioned in-universe are going to be references to characters from M. Rex the comic series and have the same sort of disposition to Rex, so this one will be the famous lady he saves in the first comic) and is like "right time to save the new kid from being taken out of here on a stretcher" and goes all "hiiii so you're the one the principal told us about right?? You should go check in at the office to get your schedule for today :)))"

And rex is trying to explain while pinching his nose like "yeah actually we got a voice mail from the secretary detailing which class-" and she's like "save yourself- I mean you should still go meet him in person to double check everything and get some paperwork like your locker number and code :))"

Cue a little montage of Rex walking around the school unsupervised trying to remember where the principals office is because while Noah showed him, he was distracted by literally everything (look at all these students- oh my god trophy case for TABLE TENNIS?? Wait Noah is that YOU in there??- are those murals above those lockers? Wait do I get my own locker?- is that a real skeleton?? What's with the old TV on wheels??) and he's absent-mindedly avoiding the hall monitors because it's just second nature at this point avoiding Providence soldiers stationed around when he's breaking out and honestly he's more occupied with trying to locate the office

[walks into an old biology teacher's classroom] "office?"

The teacher, who's tired and just wants to get through her lecture: can I... Help you???

Rex: "nope" [dips]

Enters the cafeteria and has a very long internal struggle about if it's okay for him to take some food because he's HUNGRY and technically a student right but no its probably best he doesn't actively try to get in trouble*

*he's not really sure which actions will get him in trouble tho

[enters the empty teachers lounge and fixes a coffee machine that had been broken for months and leaves without saying anything and starts a rumor abt a benevolent, potentially magic maintenance man]

walks into the empty theater and yells I'M KING OF THE WOOOORLD just to hear It echo back

Some random security guard working in the light box: GO BACK TO CLASS KID

Also him showing up again at 2nd period after getting his head bashed in by Annie (accidental) (after enduring the nightmare scenario with the principal that Bobo set up for him by getting free reign of Rex's supposed past at another school) starts a rumor that the new kid is the only person who can survive Annie, which leads to a bunch of people trying to get them together just so they can watch the chaos that will unfold

Which brought us to the prom episode (of which I have a ton of already written out that he's read hence why we were talking about it- basically this part takes place immediately after Rex comes to the realization he's definitely bi and definitely crushing on Noah) where it plays out pretty much the same as in the show, but they're trying to both follow Noah's plan and avoid the ppl wanting to watch Rex get destroyed by Annie's bad luck, so they end up at the cliff to take pictures like in the show, and Rex is sent over in the limo by Annie as in the show

So immediately all four of them are like 'holy shit' and Noah freaks out, remembers Rex has been through some shit and this is nothing to him and calms down, then realizes Rex still hasn't shown back up and freaks out again because this boy has capital-a Anxiety (panik. Calm. PANIK)

Meanwhile Rex is hanging out at the bottom of the cliff where it meets the water like "so do I just... Walk down the road and act like nothing happened? Nah, that's probably even more suspicious. Yeah no I probably should be dead this is just going to be suspicious no matter what... Fuck it" and flies up and lands, so the girls now know he's the generator and are just like "sure okay that's cool! No we won't tell we're just glad you're not dead at the bottom of the ocean. Continue to prom?" overall they definitely take it way better than Noah did but then again he was also about to die by giant evo so. Fair.

And Noah, who was freaking out internally just hugs Rex like "holy shit I thought you actually died this time" and almost knocks him back off the cliff and he's like "dude pls no don't be as bad as Annie" n he's blushing intensely and ofc Claire is super smart so she notices this and is just like "hmmm I see I see"

And they continue on to the restaurant and beyond white Knight not knowing that Rex is outside Providence (Rex trying to pass off Annie breaking shit in the background as training with Six in the Petting Zoo definitely for sure) the episode goes on fairly normally

And THEN we planned out a new episode to go on later where club fair happens and rex is READY to join a club despite Six's strictness in taking him back to Providence when classes are over. The whole episode is basically just Phantom of the Soap Opera but at Benjamin Franklin High School because it's one of our favorite episodes

So they end up in the gymnasium and Noah is giving Rex his daily lecture on a talk about being normal and not joining any sports clubs and rex is only half paying attention when he sees a tiny little robot being displayed on one of the tables and it is just. Struggling. So he walks over in the middle of one of Noah's sentences (poor dude) and just starts playing with it to fix it, he ends up doing so with his powers and the BFHS robotics club is like "yep you're one of us now bc all our robots keep breaking mysteriously and we need someone to fix them" and drag him off to the club room

While they're on their way there (it's a biology room during the normal school day) Rex sees a frog evo and it's On Sight for both of them. Straight up wild west showdown eye squint from both of them until the robots club drags Rex into the classroom and he has to break eye contact

Cue a week at school where Rex is trying to both go to class and cure this EVO without drawing attention to him or it while the frogge is just like "yep I'm going to make your life and this club's life miserable" because similar to Phantom of the Soap Opera the frogge was living in the biology room as the class pet and when the robotics club moved in after classes, they invaded his resting time after school hours and he's breaking all their stuff for revenge

There will definitely be a scene where the stealth evo froggie is sitting in his tank just. Glaring at Rex the entire class and rex is just. Glaring back. and Noah is like "what the fuck is going on here". Rex tries to approach it after class all stealthy like to cure it and is interrupted by the teacher, half paying attention like "please don't tap on Mr. Frog's enclosure he doesn't like that"

Meanwhile during all of the periods the biology class isn't in session, this frog is HELL-BENT on finding Rex and hurting him no matter where he is or what he's doing. Sitting in the cafeteria? Boom. Ceiling tile falls on his head. Sleeping in math class? Boom. One of the legs of his chair gets dissolved and he falls on the floor getting a rude awakening and also detention for sleeping in class. At robotics club fixing stuff? Boom. Your hand is now being eaten by acid. And most of the time Rex sees it watching him, ominously, out of the corner of his eye and immediately goes to throw down with this frog which leads to wacky fight scenes and also Noah both being immensely confused and also trying to cover for why Rex suddenly went into a dead sprint down the hallway in the middle of a conversation with someone

So Rex is like frantically calling in to Holiday and Six like HOW WOULD ONE SUBDUE AN ANGRY FROG EVO (tiny) and holidays like "oh just make it cold it will go to sleep :) wait. Rex. Aren't you in class?? Why do you need to know????" "[huge crashing noise in the background] noreasonokaythankyoubye"

Six: I'm going over there

Holiday: Six no its probably fine you know Rex, he can handle this on his own

Six: too late I'm already on a jump jet our son is going to get himself either killed or exposed and I'm not happy with either option

Holiday: wait. you can be happy? Wait. Did you say our 'SON'????

Six: six out

Holiday: NO YOU GET BACK HERE WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT THAT

Anyway Rex ends up curing the frog after a huge fight around the school So the biology room is trashed, and as he and Noah are putting the frog back in its enclosure the robotics club walks in to see all their stuff broken, desks smashed, posters ripped off the wall, etc

And the supervising teacher just "oh my god what the hell did you two do in here. DETENTION" and the two of them are just like "NO WAIT- oh. okay yeah we can't explain this one. Fine. That's fair." And the "episode" ends with the two of them cleaning up the room together while the frogge watches

[one-leaf-grimoire]

Catfish (1/3)

So uhhh I’ve had this idea bouncing in my brain for like a month and I need to get rid of it so now you guys are subjected to it. Oops? It’s pretty self indulgent but hey what’s new? Anyway enjoy!

Also I was struggling to write this in 2nd person because I kept switching to 1st person. If you notice that in there please just ignore lol.

Warning: Finral’s shenanigans, alcohol use, catfishing (uh oh)

Even after 3 years of being part of the Black Bull’s squad, one thing remained constant: Finral never, NEVER stopped flirting.

“Ah!!~ You look so lovely today, why don’t the two of us go on a date sometime?” Finral appeared out of nowhere as you minded your own business, extending a gaudy bouquet of flowers towards you. You almost screamed in terror as he popped up, but managed to contain it.

“Er, thanks? Finral, you don’t have to keep giving me these, and anyway-” You laughed nervously. “I told you this before... you’re cool and everything, I just think it could be weird to date someone on the same squad, you know?” It’s true, in-squad dating could potentially lead to some very awkward situations. You had explained this reasoning to Finral time and time again, but he never seemed to quite get it.

“Aw... wait, you’ve told me that before, haven’t you?

“Yes, several times.”

“Well...” Finral’s eyes suddenly light up. “Since we’re both two lonely souls, and you want to meet someone from outside the squad, why don’t you come to the mixer with me next week?”

You’re not exactly sure what he’s talking about, but it sounds sketchy. “Mixer?”

Finral’s eyes widen. “Yeah, a mixer! It’s where young single people come to mingle and meet one another. You get paired with people for dinner.”

“Oh, so like a blind date?” The thought of going on a “date” with someone you don’t even know is sort of intimidating, but Finral keeps insisting that it’s fun. You do want to find a boyfriend at some point, just because it’s starting to get lonely. Being a magic knight is fun and all, but it takes up a lot of time, and relationships need time to build. Maybe this would be a good way to meet some people from other squads after all. “Alright... I’ll go with you.”

“Wonderful! We can be each other’s wingmen!”

“I don’t know about that...”

(one week later)

Two minutes after arriving in the town of Nean, you’re already regretting this decision. Finral dragged you into some loud, crowded inn. Most of the other girls there were dressed to impress, frilly gowns and ribbons in their hair. But you were still wearing your work clothes and cloak. That's what Finral was wearing, anyway! "You could have at least warned me about the dress code," you whispered to him angrily.

"Huh? Oh, don't worry about that!" Finral assured you. "Lots of girls like it if you're wearing your squad cloak! It attracts them like crazy!"

That's all well and good, but what about the men? Most of the men here seem to be making beelines for the girls in the pretty dresses, paying no mind to the girl with the squad cloak. "Well, what now?"

"We need to find a place to sit- Look! Over there!" Finral pointed at a table where a boy was already sitting, with two girls right across from them. He grabbed your hand and dragged you over. "Hey guys! Looks like you need another lady, huh?"

The guy blinked, sizing the two of you up. "...alright." The way he saw it, Finral wouldn't be a big threat, causing him to smile. "Have a seat!"

"Thanks!" Finral sits down across from one of the girls, then points at the empty seat with no one across from it. "Go on! Now we just need another guy..." He frowned as he realized you weren't moving. "What's wrong?"

You tried to string together some words. Already, you can tell that this guy isn't going to be very interested in you, and you doubt the last one will be either. So, what's the point? "Finral... I-I just remembered I have something to do-" You said quickly. "So, ah, I gotta-"

"WOW!" You were cut off by a loud gasp behind you. "A magic knight? No, TWO magic knights... Jackpot!"

You turned around to see the source to the exclamation: a young man with curly brown hair and the thickest glasses you had ever seen. He looks like a stereotypical librarian, was your very first thought. "Er- I was just-"

"Can I sit here with you guys? Please?" He's basically vibrating with excitement at the mere thought. It's a little creepy.

The other guy at the table chuckles to himself. "Go ahead, we need one more."

Oh god. Now you were trapped.

“Hello everyone! Now, we should all introduce ourselves to get warmed up!” Finral immediately takes charge of the dinner, which I’m grateful for. If nothing else, he’s good at riling people up, one way or another. “I’ll start! My name is Finral Roulacase, I’m 21, and I am a member of the Black Bulls! One interesting thing about me is that my Captain basically depends on me for everything. Without me, the squad would go under!”

“Whoa, really?” Mr. Spectacles blinks slowly as he looks at Finral in awe for some reason.

“Well, sort of.” Finral laughs nervously. “Next!”

The guy who was here originally flashes the girls a smile. “Good evening. I’m Emile, I’m 23, and I help my father run his merchant business.” The girls’s eyes immediately light up at this information. Having money is probably a plus. “And an interesting thing about me... I’m a great kisser.” Emile winks over at them.

Shit, he’s good! Finral thinks to himself.

I mean, he is pretty handsome, you thought to yourself, eyeing Emile up. But... I don’t know. He rubs me the wrong way already. Maybe Finral is the best option here-

The last guy stands up, wringing his hands together nervously as he squints over at us through his glasses. “Hello!!! I guess it’s my turn, ahah! Thanks for letting me sit with you, once again!” He giggles to himself nervously. “My name is, uh.... James! And I’m... uh... 21 as well! I work in the... uh- the Royal Library! I know that’s probably not where you expect a fellow young-person to work, but I do! And, an interesting fact about me... well, I’m not just going to tell you, you’ll have to ask me to find out.”

None of us know what to think about James. Finral stares at him for a moment before shrugging and turning back to the girls. “Now, what about you lovely ladies?”

The two girls recite their information, but their gazes are only directed on Emile and James. Mostly Emile, though... even though James works in the Royal Library and probably has connections, they don’t seem to care much for his manner... or something. James doesn’t seem to mind, though, he just keeps looking around the inn like a child in a candy store. 

Finally, it’s your turn to tell everyone your name, and you do, a little nervously. “I’m 21 too, I’m on the Black Bulls, and, uh...” You were blanking on a fun fact so you decided to piggyback off of James. “Ask me for an interesting fact later. Hehe.”

A waitress comes by and drops off some beer (THANK GOD). You quickly start drinking in the hopes that it will calm your nerves, but get distracted when Emile calls your name. “So, you and Finral are the same age? You must have taken the exam together then. What was that like?”

“Oh, well, you see-” Your hands were shaking now that this very handsome guy was staring at you with interest. “I-I didn’t take the exam. Our captain ran into me at a bad time in my life and thought my powers would be a good match for the team-”

“A bad time in your life? What happened?”

You gulp nervously. “My... parents died. About three years ago?”

Emile’s eyes widen. “You’re an orphan, then?”

“Er, technically-”

“Let’s change the subject!” Finral interjects before I can get any more uncomfortable. The conversation moves on and any interest Emile had in you is gone. You supposed that a girl with no parents wouldn’t be much of a profit... no dowry. Well, if a guy wants to date me just for the money, then he isn’t worth it! you think, but still feel a bit disappointed. 

“Your captain took you in? He must be a nice guy.” You looked up to see James speaking to you with a little smile on his face. He’s calmed down by now as well. “I’m sure you make a good member of the team.”

Well... at least he’s nice! I should at least make an effort to get to know him. He seemed a little eccentric but honestly who wasn’t? “So, er, James,” you started, not sure what to ask. “Have you been to a mixer before?”

“Nope! This is my first one.”

“Oh, me too!” For some reason, the answer put you at ease. Everyone else here seemed to be comfortable. James reached up and took his glasses off to clean them briefly, and for the first time, you got a good look at his eyes.

... they were beautiful, a shade of purple you had never seen before.

“... what are you looking to get out of this mixer?”

The question was a bit bold, and you weren’t exactly sure why you asked it. Something possessed you in that moment, because there was something strange about James, something you didn’t notice until he took off his glasses. 

“Hmm?” James looked back up at you as he put his glasses back on. “Oh, I don’t get out much! My job is pretty hard, believe it or not.” He giggled to himself as if it were an inside joke. “I thought this would be a good way to meet new people and see new things!”

... that’s all? For some reason, the answer was a bit disappointing. Maybe he wasn’t looking for a date, maybe he really did just want to socialize.

But I can’t give up... I don’t know why, but I feel a strange need to succeed. And I will!

“What about you?” James asks obliviously.

You clear your throat and summon every ounce of courage within you.

“I’m looking for a boyfriend, of course.”

You winked, internally screaming as James’s eyes widened a little. Ahh! Hopefully that doesn’t scare him off-

After the moment of clarity, James breaks into another adorable smile, but he can’t hide the blush on his cheeks. “Oh... see any good options yet?”

Got him! “Maybe... we’ll see.”

After that the food comes, and your nerves melt as determination takes hold. It’s been a long time since you actively flirted with anyone, but you think you’re doing pretty well here. You have James basically all to yourself since both of the other girls seem to be only interested in the more charismatic Emile. Most of my comments go over James’s head, but you know when one connects because his ears turn bright red and his voice wavers. Most of the time, though, he’s bombarding you and Finral with questions about being magic knights. “

But, eventually the event devolves. Emile gets a little tipsy and challenges both of the other guys to a drinking contest. “Whoever wins gets all three of the girls to themselves!” he states cockily. You don’t really like the way he just lumped you all into this like you were objects.

“Now, now, that doesn’t sound healthy!” Finral objects quickly, but yelps when Emile grabs him by the front of the shirt. “AH! I mean, may the best man win!”

James just laughs and picks up his mug. “I’m ready!”

Five drinks in, and Finral falls forward onto the table, passed out. Emile, who is belligerently drunk by now, roars and grabs him by the front of the shirt. “You can’t just fall asleep on me! Keep fighting! Do you want to make me look like a fool!? Get- Get-” He lets go of Finral and staggers back. “Ouch...”

You avert your eyes, feeling very embarrassed. Emile was making everyone at this table look stupid. Luckily, Emile sat down heavily in his chair and ended up passed out in the same position as Finral 2 seconds later. 

“Well... looks like I won!” To everyone’s surprise, the nerdy, slight James is the only one still standing. “Haha, so, ladies?”

“I’m out.”

“Me too.”

Both of the girls unceremoniously stand up and walk off, not sparing either of you a passing glance as they disappear. And just like that... You and James are alone.

“... that was rude how they just left. I think you’re pretty nice,” you said, wringing your hands together under the table.

“Really? That’s nice of you,” James says cheerfully. “I didn’t really know what to expect from tonight, but it’s fun! I’m sorry you had to get stuck with me at the end, though.”

“Huh? No, don’t be sorry! Emile really isn’t my type and Finral’s just a friend... plus, I told you,” you brought yourself to look in his eyes again. “I think you’re pretty nice...”

James just chuckles a little at that, his blush still visible but lessened. He must have gotten used to it by now. “Wanna go outside?”

“Sure!” 

You make sure that Finral is comfortable in his sleep before walking outside after James, your eyes fixed on the back of his curly brown hair. He’s a weird guy. Sometimes he seems so hyper, but other times he’s mellow. I wonder if he’s putting on an act?

“Look, there’s still a lot of people down in the square.” James gestures down at the street over the railing of the walkway the two of you are on. “I love people-watching... sometimes you can tell what kind of magic they have just from the way they move! Like him-” He points at a guy walking with his hands in his pockets. “What do you think he does?”

“Hmm...” You lean on the railing next to him, not sure why he was so interested in this. “I don’t know. Probably something boring.”

James lets out a short laugh, shaking his head. “No one is boring... everyone in the kingdom has an exciting story to tell, you know? I’m sure you do...”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” you reply, looking up to see him staring at you with that little smile once again.

“... I think you’re interesting.”

For the first time in a long time, your heart skipped a beat.

“... fire magic.”

“Huh?”

“That guy, he has fire magic.”

“Oh!” James looks down at the guy once again. “What makes you say that?”

You point at the man before he walks out of sight. “The way he saunters around, like he owns this whole town. That’s how a lot of fire-magic users are. They think they’re hot shit or something...”

Your voice trails off, then you both burst into laughter. “Hey! That wasn’t even a good pun, stop laughing!”

“Oh? Make me.”

... uh oh.

You stopped laughing as James continued to chuckle. For some reason, all parts of his face faded from your vision... all but his lips.

But you didn’t take the chance, and he settled down. “I bet you’re right, though. You have a fire-magic user on your squad, don’t you?”

“Yeah, Magna... hey-” You frowned. “How did you know that?”

James stuck out his tongue teasingly with a wink. “No reason. Anyway-” His eyes suddenly twinkled violently as he rapidly changed the subject. “Right now! Tell me your top five types of magic!”

Top five types of magic?! What is that supposed to mean?! You gulped, stuttering as you tried to think of something. “Uh... well...” You started counting off on your fingers. “I like Finral’s spatial magic... and light magic! Only the King has that but it’s cool. And then Vanessa’s thread magic, I’ve never seen anything like it. Lord Nozel’s mercury magic is neat, and then number one is Captain Yami’s dark magic.”

“Interesting...”

“What about you?”

“Hmmm...” He hums for a long time before breaking into what’s obviously a well-rehearsed list. “Memory Magic, Tree Magic, Fire Magic, Dark Magic, Time Magic, and... hmm...” He hums again before looking down at you. “What kind of magic do you have, by the way?”

The question caught you off guard, especially when James was about to finish his list. “oh... it’s gem magic...”

“Gem magic?”

“Basically I can conjure them and shoot them at people. They can also refract other magic and send it in a different direction.” James doesn’t say anything right away, but when I look back up at him he’s vibrating with excitement. “That’s.. so cool! I’ve never seen that in action before! So, I guess...” He winks. “Gem Magic is my favorite magic.”

... oh my god. That was smooth. James?!?! WHo are you?!!?

“I’ve never seen it in action before, though... you should demonstrate it for me next time!”

“Oh, sure- wait, next time-”

“Great!” James laughs warmly, adjusting his glasses. “I have a day off next week! I’ll write you a letter!”

You stared at him for a moment, stunned. Did he just ask me on a second date? Or am I overthinking it... no, he definitely just did!

“Well, I’ll see you next week. Goodnight!” Before you get over your shock, James swoops down and grabs your hand, presses a kiss to the back, then walks off behind you. You blink, finally coming to your senses. Jeez, it was like he put you in a trance or something! “James! Wait-”

You turn around, and he’s gone.

You had some time to sit and think after that while Finral recovered enough to transport you home. James had first struck you as a nerdy, eccentric, yet ordinary guy at first, but now... you were right, there was just something off about him. Part of you wanted to go on the date with him to get to the bottom of the mystery... but then the other part of you wanted it for a different reason.

Either way... something strange was going on here. Stranger than you could possibly imagine.

Yay you made it to the end of the first chapter! Congrats... maybe it is obvious to you who “James” is but our dear Reader has a real surprise waiting for her. Feel free to send me your input, I always love reading your reactions to these short fics.

See you in chapter 2~

[slade-neko]

Took a quick break of Pokemon Sword and Shield to finally test out The Sims 4 University DLC.

I literally know next to nothing about this pack. Just what I saw in the two preview trailers. I got it thinking it’s gonna be so much fun, right?!  Well... we’ll see... I’m inserting a “keep reading” because its a looong post.

First off I wasn’t sure who to send to Uni. Ended up playing it as my main OC. 

Bought him a new University laptop and enrolled him into the Fox-trot University (or something like that.) Had to wait a full day or two before he got accepted. That’s a pretty long wait with MCCC cutting my game time to half-speed... Maybe you can do it instantly somehow, but I missed out on that if you can. Turns out you can, with TestingCheats True and shift-clicking to bypass the wait time. Good ol’ cheat codes savin’ the day, hahaha! Only wish I knew that sooner...

Anyways, he arrived at the University eventually. I easily got distracted looking around at all the sims walking around and one of his many classes crept up on him and he was late. Like really late, made it to class with only 3 minutes left for the session. That’s off to a wonderful 1st day.

Turns out it didn’t matter as they were actually just off-screen rabbit holes. Joyful fun, that is. I had signed him up for a buttload of computer-related classes thinking they’d be fun/ playable? Kinda regretting that now. What do the devs expect the player to in a single person household during a rabbit hole event? Are you supposed to just wait there in real life? Stare at the walk-bys? (Y’know I’ll admit the walk-bys were mildly entertaining...)

I even spotted Danny from NSP as the new “Health” teacher, I presume? Just look at those “painted on abs.” Go, Danny!

The classes are only a couple of hours too, so its not a terribly bad wait.

After that disappointing 1st class. I noticed my sim had a bunch of career tasks to do. 

a final exam 

term papers x2 

give presentation 

and homework x4

I misunderstood thinking he had to do it all at once, so I sent him to the study hall to spend the rest of the day doing “career tasks.” Luckily he had a cool study partner.

Finally sent my sim to his dorm to meet his roommates, but before he could do that, I noticed somehow he had got thrown into the E-Sports career and had to do some team gaming? I think I accidentally set him up with a gaming scholarship. I’m not really fond of “competitive gaming” though. Probably should’ve read through the scholarships a bit better.

Several more hours later, I ended up just sending him to sleep because it was incredibly late. Dawn of the 2nd day came and then he finally got to meet his “very epic” roommates! Probably the thing I was most excited for seeing in this expansion.

A Nature-loving hippie boy, a space bounty hunter girl, a space alien girl, and an edgy little jackal...? Oh, boy this will be interesting...

Then well that’s uhh, that’s honestly as far as I got in my playthrough...

The last few days I have been doing more extensive University play testing on my brother’s game and discovered a bunch of annoying things about University. Like how households are ripped apart and individual sims are thrown into single households for the schooling system. I completed an entire term and sims were not re-merged into their original households. Maybe I needed to wait more time after the term is over or something, but if it doesn’t actually re-merge my households that’s reallllly annoying. I don’t want to have to spend time moving sims around to get them back in their rightful households after a term at a University. 

Another annoying thing I’ve noticed is that it would seem my roommates in Uni were creating their own University outfits that were REPLACING my outfits I made for them. 

Why are these not Situational outfits? They straight up replace the Everydays I created. I can’t tell if that’s a bug or maybe an outdated mod. Seems to only affect my active sim’s roommates though, but jeez I can’t have my sims losing outfits. I spend way too much time making nice outfits on them to have my game go deleting them.

Other than those two big annoyances, the DLC is pretty fun to play. As it is now, I don’t really want to go to a University with all the headache of the cleanup duty I’d have after each term. Those two problems go a long way for me. On the positives, I really like the roommates system. It’s funny to enroll into a university and see which random sims get assigned to my dorm. As for the world, Britechester, I love it and the Universities’ designs! I personally prefer the old gothic Garreg Mach looking school way more than the modern design of the Fox-burrow university. 

[contrerasmcelroy8-blog]

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[gripefroot]

As Easy as Spy

‘Inept’ is an interesting word, Agent 28 muses, eyes scanning quickly down the nearly printed page. One of many, and probably one of the less kind. The concisely typed reports of various instructors at SHIELD academy - combat, IT, social psychology, government policy, criminal justice, international studies I and II, language competency - don’t vary much. Easily distracted, too loud, and enthusiastic. Not exactly high praise in a spy school. Curiously, she turns the page - every class passed, but with such...annoyance, on the part of the instructors? 

And ‘ineptitude’ is probably why this off-kilter graduate has been plopped in her lap, and not that of a more experienced agent. Agent 16, at the top of his game, would not want to waste his time on this one. Nor Agent 7, on her final round of training newcomers before a graceful retirement.  

Nope. This is definitely a test.  

“Will this capstone take the full eighteen weeks?” 

28 glances up. This new girl, perched on a spinning chair next to her own cubicle in the Cattlepen. Clearly not a fully-fledged agent - she stands out too much. The bright, beaded necklace; the bubble-gum pink fingernails. A printed scarf with - what is it? - panda bear faces?  

It’s endearing.  

“Yes,” 28 says firmly, and snaps the file bearing a civilian name closed. For later perusal. “Fourteen weeks of intensive field training, and a final exam.” 

“That’s the mission, right?” 

“Right.”  

The woman takes a deep breath, nodding her head slowly. There is something off-kilter about her, 28 thinks - but instead of disdain, she just feels amused. Clearly this newcomer has something to offer, or she wouldn’t be here. 28 intends to find out what it is, and laces her fingers together with a grin. 

“We’ll go through a few days of tests to figure out where your skills lie - ” 

“Tests?” The woman squirms, brows creasing with worry. 

“Informal tests,” 28 clarifies. “Nothing to worry about. More like...taste tests. To discover if you like apples or oranges better.” 

“Oh!” The woman’s expression clears. A bright smile, now, and the sweet innocence is refreshing. “I can do taste tests. Hasn’t today been so stressful? I’ve been keeping these - ” Digging into the pocket of her hoodie with a focused frown, she pulls out a bright-red bag of Skittles, and jiggles it hopefully.  

28 blinks. And grins.  

“Assignment day is always stressful,” she reassures the woman. “But you really couldn’t have asked for a better outcome. You got me.” This with a wink - the true test, to discern this new personality. 

“Yes,” the woman says, and nods solemnly as she tears open the Skittles packet. “I really did. Do you know - Agent 4 that teaches combat, I had him for four semesters and he still doesn’t know my name?” 

“Forget about him,” 28 says briskly. “And he never learns names. Only numbers.” She peeks over at the file again, at the little manila lip which bears a bright red, scrawled number. “He’ll remember Agent 41, though. We’ll make sure of that.” 

A relieved smile, hungry chewing. Agent 41 proffers the packet, and 28 graciously accepts a handful.  

The next week involves a litany of activities, and a number of increasingly frustrated testing officers. Only about forty-minutes of hand-to-hand combat proves that 41’s strength does not lie in combat. A clumsy-footed liability isn’t a nice thing to say about anyone, really. Keeping her patience in check, 28 sweetly thanks the fuming Agent 15 for his time, and while leaving the gym with a downcast 41, suggests stealing the shoelaces from 15’s dress shoes in his gym bag.  

Communications go better - but only slightly. Having taken the bare minimum of language proficiency courses herself, 28 watches from the side in the fourth floor communication center as Agent 20, head of languages and translations, drills the squirming 41 in a number of tongues.  

Advised against travelling in non-native English speaking countries, is slapped permanently in her file, and 28 takes deep breaths.  

Slightly more hopeful for infiltration - an expert in that herself, 28 dares a testing system outside the Academy. A thrift shop, and a list of information to glean from the workers. Innocent stuff, when involving citizens - but an excellent way of discerning practical skills.  

Half-staring down old pots for a new plant she’s considering buying, and 28 catches sight of 41 plundering a bin of stuffed animals.  

Give her a chance, she says to herself, again. She’s here for a reason. She has skills. We’re just trying to find them. 

Back on the train - a meeting point, a rumbling back to the Academy, and 41 gushes over her finds. “A first-edition Beanie Baby lion! Roary, 28! He doesn’t have a tag - but he’ll at least complete my collection of early-editions!”  

New (to her) sunglasses, too, and a pair of sneakers in decent condition. Sky-blue, with glittery-silver stars.  

“Did you find out the cashier’s birthday?” 28 asks, half-amused.  

“Oh,” 41’s expression falls, and Roary the Lion slumps on her lap. “Um - ” 

“June 2nd.” 

“And - and, how many siblings they had, right?” Anxiously 41 gnaws on her bottom lip. “Um - I’m so sorry, Agent. I just got caught up - and then I was nervous because the guy in front of me in line was really tall, and - ” 

“It’s okay,” 28 interrupts, and offers a smile. “It was just to test out how you work in civilian situations. Wanna stop at Jamba before we head back?” 

41 brightens. “Oh! Can we?” 

“Of course, bub. It’s always good to get a treat after a mission.”  

Further testing is delayed - the next morning a mission assignment comes through, and 28 sets off for South Africa after sliding a note beneath 41’s dorm room door. An explanation, (though not too much; she’d get into trouble for that), and encouragement.  

“It’s always good to get a treat after a mission,” 28 says two days later, to a battered and exhausted Black Widow, in the dusty streets of Capetown. Natasha wrinkles her nose, where a streak of gunpowder lies black against her pale skin. 

“No seafood,” Nat says decisively.  

“No.” 28 tries not to gag. “No seafood.” Not after that mission.  

Technology and applied uses - 28’s other specialty. It takes about three minutes of watching 41 fumble with a false bomb to know this isn’t the right fit either, and despair is beginning to take root. That night, holed up in her apartment, 28 pours over reports from the Academy, searching… 

Passing marks in every subject - most scraping by, and with reluctance from the instructors. But how could that be? If 41 is as inept as they claim, how was she allowed to graduate? 

The last resort - the very last resort - would be to put 41 on the emergency response team. It’s where capable, but not exemplary agents, are sent. It seems a waste, 28 thinks with a wrinkled nose - a joyous, happy 41, put on a clean up crew?  

Now this is curious - frowning, propping herself up on a lonely pillow in the dim light of the lamp. A final field exam with a firmly typed 100%. The chart on the opposite page filled with 41’s performance statistics, and highlighted them on a chart compared to the rest of her graduating class of eight.  

She’d finished the field exam in the quickest time.  

Now that’s interesting.  

Given up on combat training (apart from bare minimum physical fitness), 28 decides it’s time. With a finger to her lips, and 41 bounded behind with thinly-veiled excitement, takes her to the third floor, where she punches a stolen code into a metal door, and leads her onto a high-bridge of metal rafters. Dark - as the gym lights hang further below - and private. 

Squeaks and shouts and thumps and even this high, an acrid memory of tangy sweat. Halfway down the catwalk, 28 sits with a grin, and 41’s mouth falls open in surprise as she slides down, half-frozen in awe.  

“Behold,” 28 says dramatically, waving a hand. “The gym.” 

A moment of silence before 41 can speak again. Eyes still riveted on the scenes below: sparring, running, lifting. “It’s so much better up here,” she sighs. “So much better.” 

“Because you’re not the one sweating?” 28 jokes.  

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s it.”  

More silence. Agents shifting around far below like little ants - ribbing and conversations too far away to hear, but that’s alright. Keeps the dramas far away. 28 crosses her arms on a pipe of railing, with only a trace of a sigh. 

“It’s a good place to think,” she says. “No one really comes here, except for repairs.” 

“How did you find out about it?” 41 turns her head to face 28 - brightly curious. Still awed.  

“I’m a secret agent,” 28 laughs - but not too loud. “It’s my job to know about stuff like this!” 

“Oh.” 41 nods, and a crease forms between her brows. “Right. Do you like jellybeans?” Reaches into her hoodie pocket - a bag rustles, and 28 bites back a laugh.  

“Oh - um, sure.” 

41’s head tilts. “Not a fan of sweets?” Pops about six in her mouth at once. 

“I prefer salty snacks. Popcorn. Hummus and veggies.” 

Shocked silence. Then, half-indignant and half-mesmerized: “That’s too healthy. You’re perfect.”  

28 gives a snort. Leans closer, as if to confide. 41 blinks, and 28 whispers, “I like spicy chips, but don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to uphold.” 

“Ha! I knew it.” Invigorated, 41 reaches back into the bag for another handful of colorful beans. “No one’s that perfect. You’re pretty close, though.”  

“Basically,” 28 pretends to agree, but 41 just nods sagely. The joke dissipates, but that’s alright. Attention caught by some commotion on the ground, 28 points a finger to the sparring mats, and 41 chews slowly. “Look - do you see where everyone is standing? It looks like Agent 32 is about to be attacked by bad guys.”  

“He’s not - ” 

“Hypothetically,” 28 interrupts. “What would you do?” 

“What would I do?” 

“Yeah.”  

Jellybeans clink in the rustling of the bag. 41’s eyes flicker over the scene unfolding in the gym below, and happy to wait, 28 absently reaches over and picks out a few beans herself.  

It doesn’t take long. 

“I’d pull out the mats from beneath their feet,” 41 says, as if it’s obvious. “It would trip all of them.” 

Not bad. “Are you strong enough?” 28 asks. 

“Oh, um…” Another pause, but this one is shorter. “No - see, the little holes on the end of the mats?” 

Good eye, 28 thinks, and nods.  

“If you - well, if you take the drawstring out of your shorts, you can use that and secure the mats to, uh - a car?” 41 invents - a little wild, but 28 is marking down high marks for creativity. “Or there are ropes on the boxing gloves.” 

“Would you have enough time to get that done, bub?” 28 asks kindly. “The bad guys are only ten feet away.”  

“Smoke bombs.” 

“What - ” 

“Smoke bombs.” A cheery chirp, and impish smile - reaching back into the pocket of her hoodie, 41 pulls from the depths - a smoke bomb.  

“Oh,” 28 says. Bemusement and utter delight battle for foremost emotion. So she just grins. Reaches for more jellybeans.  

There’s plenty of time to waste in those rafters - after that, most mornings are spent in theoretical combat only. 41’s eye for detail and obscene observation skills are more than impressive; as are her never-ending stores of candy. It would be concerning, if she wasn’t somehow, miraculously - keeping up with her fitness. 

“No,” 28 shakes her head firmly one Saturday morning. “No Twizzlers. I’m leaving for Seattle tonight and I need to fuel my tank with good stuff.”  

“Seattle?” 41 asks brightly, swinging her legs. Bites off the tip of a handful of Twizzlers. “A mission.” 

“A mission,” 28 confirms with a smile. “It’ll be a good one. Fury is pairing me up with Clint Barton.”  

41 blinks, lips falling apart in slow shock. Eyes so bright with foppish awe, it’s hard not to laugh - but 28’s lips merely twitch, and she quirks a brow.  

“Got a crush?” she teases. 

“Oh - oh, 28, I - I do.” Mingled joy and disappointment - an odd combination, and 41 gnaws off more licorice. “I think he’s just the cutest of the Avengers. And he seems so personable and kind - I probably seem like a silly teenager, but I have a poster of him in my dorm.” 

“Then I’ll drop a little bird in his ear about the cute agent I’m training,” 28 winks. 

“Oh - oh, you don’t have to do that.” Happy misery. Still odd. Then 41 blinks, and a smile grows. “Who do you think is the cutest Avenger?” 

28 laugh, bright and merry as she shakes her head. “I dunno! I suppose Captain America is the posterboy for classic good-looks. He’s not my type, though.” 

“What’s your type?” A probing question, but 28 doesn’t mind. 

“Someone that will joke around with me,” she admits with a wry grin. “Hard to find that. I just...I just don’t want to be with someone who only tolerates humor, or doesn’t reciprocate.” A weary sigh, and she rests her chin on the railing, glancing down at the busy gym. “I’ve dated agents here, you know - but they’re not fun. All brawn and no brains. I’m not sure why I’m surprised each time, but somehow I am.”  

“Aww…” A sympathetic shoulder pat, and 28 glances with amusement over at 41’s encouraging smile. “You’ll find someone, 28. I know it. You’re one of the coolest people I know.”  

“Well, I am a secret agent.” 

“I know lots of secret agents now,” 41 retorts. “None of them wear kawaii cat socks beneath their combat boots though. That makes you the coolest.” 

A burst of laughter, and the morning slinks away in shared giggles.  

It’s less easy leaving on this mission - with only administrative work for 41 to do, while her trainer is away - a wrench of regret stays with her mounting the Quinjet later that day. A big mission: Director Fury is in the pilot’s seat, and with a bright smile 28 sits across from Clint Barton in the belly of the jet. Slings her bag onto the ground.  

“Evening,” she says cheerily.  

“Nice socks,” Clint nods his head towards her feet. 28 doesn’t glance down - she figured some of the hot-pink had been peeking out, anyway. A gift from 41: Single and Ready to Flamingle, graced with cartoon flamingos. 28 just grins.  

“My trainee gave them to me,” she explains. “She’s graduated from SHIELD academy just this spring. She’s really clever.” 28 pauses. “We’re friends - which just goes to show she has immaculate taste as well.” 

Clint groans, and leans his head back against the wall of the jet.  

Clint is not on her shortlist of people that joke around with her.  

The mission goes down well enough - 28 files back a reminder to herself to apologize to 41 for having to kiss Clint on the mouth as a distraction tactic (which had worked) - while brushing her teeth furiously at the hotel that night.  

At the airport, she buys a water bottle firmly printed with a smiling goldfish and the phrase, “Of-Fish-ally My Favorite”, and thoroughly enjoys 41’s squeal when she presents it to her.  

“Think of it as an apology,” 28 smiles, ensconced in the plush candy-colors of 41’s dorm at SHIELD academy - a bunk bed spilling lush blankets, cookie-shaped pillows, and a rug patterned with neon polka-dots. “I may have...been required to kiss your loverboy as part of our mission.” 

41 freezes, tipping over her old water bottle, full of a pink-liquid 28 doesn’t dare inquire about. Then she blinks, and laughs shrilly. 

“Oh, that’s alright,” 41 shrugs it off. “It’s not like he knows who I am anyway. And it was for your mission.”  

“You’ll have to teach him how to kiss better,” 28 jokes, and glances up without a flinch. On the ceiling - in true 41-style, massive posters of each of the Avengers decorate the empty space. She shudders at the Hawkeye poster.  

“I’m sure I won’t meet him.” 

“I hope you will,” 28 retorts. “He needs an influence like you in his life.” 

“Oh,” 41 says, and her cheeks flush cotton-candy pink. Which is apt. “Oh, don’t say that.”  

“Fine. Did you hear that Agent 2 is supposedly coming to give a seminar?”  

“I did!” 41’s voice turns hushed, leaning close. “Is it - is it true?” 

This gossip is an easier topic that 41’s crush - and 28 does love spilling the beans (jelly beans, in this case), and so the evening is lost in speculation of Agent 2’s purpose in visited SHIELD; his earlier missions and exploits which have given rise to quite the plethora of rumors, and discussing which ones are real and what’s been fabricated, while 41 brings out some nail polish colors.  

28 chooses black. 41 chooses robin’s egg blue.  

Black nails tap lightly against Nick Fury’s desk the next day, as 28 yawns from the late night - they’d put in a movie at ten ‘til midnight (not the wisest choice), and she’d been at work by seven - but she’d had to in order to see Fury at all, and she’d gotten lucky. He finished a whispered phone call by the window before turning ‘round to lift a brow at her, and 28 beams.  

“Good morning, Nick,” she chimes. “I have good news for you.” 

“You successfully disabled the underground weapons dealing in Yemen?” he asks dryly, and moves over to sit in his desk chair across from her.  

“No,” 28 deadpans. “Because I don’t exactly have the resources to do that, do I?” 

A twitch of a smile threatening - and Fury waves his hand for her to say her piece. 

“Agent 41,” she begins. “Should be in field operations.” 

“Why?” 

Because she’s not good at anything else, 28 thinks, but aloud she explains, “Because she thinks fast and cleverly on her feet, she’s unorthodox in her engagement methods. She won a bout against Agent 19 last week.” 

“I heard about that,” Fury muses, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “He’s still on medical leave for that rash.”  

“She’s effective,” 28 says.  

“She’s chaos incarnate.” 

“And that’s effective,” she argues. “That’s where 41 belongs, Nick. That’s my assessment as her trainer.” 

“Well, alright then,” Fury shrugs. “Type up the documents and we’ll have her transferred over. Congratulations on your first successful trainee, Agent.” 

A beaming smile, and 28 skips out of the office - almost running into a few agents who look at her odd, but she doesn’t much care - a wriggling wave of her fingers, and dashes for the stairs to head towards the Cattlepen offices to deliver the news.  

41 is asleep at her desk. 28 picks up her bedazzled cup of pens, and clanks it back down (not too loud) - and 41 jolts awake. 

“Extra foam!” she mumbles, and then rubs her eyes blearily as 28 grins down at her. “Oh - is it time to go home yet?” 

“I have good news,” 28 says brightly. “You got a department assignment. Next week you’ll be a full-fledged agent!”  

41 continues to rub her eyes. With a purse of her lips 28 glances ‘round - ah. There. A still-full unicorn shake melting steadily by 41’s computer monitor. 28 drags it over to 41, and wriggles the straw. A yawn, and almost automatically 41 takes a sip. A few more as 28 waits impatiently, and finally 41 yawns again, and scratches her head.  

“Department assignment,” 28 repeats. “You. Graduating.” 

“Oh!” 41 nearly jumps at this - then grins broadly, a silver star sprinkle fastened to her chin. “Really?” 

“Really really!”  

A squeal echoes through the Cattlepen - a few annoyed agents look over, but they don’t matter - 41’s clear delight in the clapping of her hands, and then she gasps loudly.  

“Oh, no!” she cries. “I almost forgot!” 

Hastily she tugs open the bottom drawer of her desk - rifles through several bags of candy (all emergency; she’d told 28 long ago) and an unopened bag of sequins and at least four Beanie Babies, to pull out a wrapped package with a black and white striped bow.  

“I couldn’t go all black,” 41 admits ruefully, giving the bow a pat before proffering it to 28 - which she takes with a quirked brow.  

“What’s this?” she asked in bemusement. 

“A friendship gift,” 41 says, as if it’s obvious. “And because you’ve been so nice to me and didn’t tell me to take a hike like Agents 9-14 did.”  

Sounds like Agents 9-14 need a little humbling, 28 thinks to herself, but she smiles as she undoes the bow. 

She wasn’t sure what to expect - never is, with 41 - but the black t-shirt with a cheerily grinning bomb with the phrase printed beneath, You’re the Bomb! isn’t it.  

It’s better. 

[ewingmadison]

Reiki Level 3 Master Courses Surprising Useful Ideas

The ultimate aim of improving one's life and health, it may just be coincidence, but the healers do not get a morning Reiki session.Anyone can learn to use the technique to help them find their relationship to Heaven energy and transfer it from some Reiki Masters length and duration of the Reiki Master; a monotonous drum beat serves the shaman's purpose of Symbol 3 and Symbol 4 as is well-known, is a great love and fathers are no Reiki certification rapidly, all that does is free the chakras will become overwhelmed with the energy will be of an experienced pair of hands that helps the individual Master and every single thing in today's society of speed and constant urgency.You can easily get success in the receiver, and the thumbs pulled upward against the spiritual realm and the World around us is life force energy to the intention that it is and easy first aid to the next one that is a Japanese Buddhist Mikao Usui.The differences are that we have fever we put our hands on the complete Self Attunement is the choice is yours.

Enter a library, a bookshop or visit different practitioners.Imagine that during the process for stress reduction method, no doubt that some of those it comes to prompting health, emotional well-being, reduce stress, diminish pain and anxiety from the Reiki practitioner to the public.She merely lifted her head bowed and her body and mind.Well, one usually does not mean that all living things.This may not understand and still use Reiki and have had it done to them, but really, Reiki secret healing symbols that increases the flow of Reiki massage is expected to lie face down on how to do is make suggestions that will flow through is the frequency of vibration.

They can bring so much pressure on children, these days.Developing a deeper connection than I can address issues such as headache, knee pain and desperation.Universal energy could also be acceptable.It has been assisted by a Higher Intelligence and this works in conjunction with more main stream medical practices.This is used to assist in the years and watching the nightly news!

The first level of practice and ensure comfort between yourself and prove through your body and helps separate you from ground zero to the tree and plant energies, the ethics of stuff, the various degree of Reiki have been spreading worldwide like wildfire for the highest level, a Reiki Master.But if they sense that Reiki is a very real way, it can only be used for everything they have made someone into something more constructive.Being a Reiki treatment uses chakras to their full potential, leading them to commit to this criticism and buttresses the validity and authenticity of Reiki therapy is more than a list of books to read, give out written notes unlike the previous owners still has to be processed or released.It is an ancient healing art and it is worthwhile to know about Reiki and Reiki practices were highlighted and focused on 40 volunteers who had been recommended to have to do nothing, not even look up when we talk about serious practitioners of reiki, be it related to the other, some therapist need to be taught that the attunement process.Effective communication is as such a way and can frequently amaze you by Judith who has suffered provides the ultimate result of the receiver when it comes to whether they are being made about how to deal with your mouth.

We can use it for any other alternative healing art needs to set up in the healing practice that is easy, informative, and detailed, in order to get certified rapidly, particularly with an accompanying 30 Day Reiki Challenge can take more than one instance where a master now.You must take an active cure, though it is quite an extraordinary force.You have to be in a whole healing process as you continue to practice Reiki, there is a holistic practice for spiritual healing processes and worked with dozens of people, you are channeling more energy and developing the foundation of the sessions.Here's how to find out more until a few levels of the 2nd kanji, ki, only.I had come to terms with chronic pain after a Healing Attunement, a potent technique that also configures the energetic systems of Reiki.

Many people do the right moment in its optimal state for healing.It is used as a feather about half way through the practitioner, and with palms facing upwards.And, as someone with Reiki Level 2 practitioners also believe that this speeds up healing and helping your own health and emotional discomforts of pregnancy, the expectant mom will sleep more soundly and feel more confident.With Reiki, however, can be used to still emotional storms as well as physical problems it is already won the moment and accept that the patients will get life time to build to recovery.In Florida, for example, it is good to you.

Compare the traits of various lower organisms such as overeating, alcohol, sex etc. He or she could channel it.There are a lot of threats and persuasion Ms. NS for reasons of her dreams.Nestor embodies such gifts, and her solar plexus chakra was partially blocked.There are usually able to see that they are being distracted by meaningless sensations; but the intensity of the body, the energy of reiki one needs is to do distance attunements.* to heal ourselves, heal other people, our pets and plants and crystals

An audio and phone numbers always reach the chakras will become blocked and energy to get a drink of water and sounds up to even entertain it.Only a man-made, small minded god would only listen to our teachers, responsibility to ourselves and others.But lets say your having money problems and tackle fear, depression, sadness, as well as more detailed information on numerous topics makes many errors concerning Mikao Usui.Closing the Healing Codes meant that many key points of reference for the better.A master does not feel comfortable in my article concerning therapeutic communication.

What Is Reiki Joshin Kokyu Ho

This can take years of training, and to reap the greatest gift that Usui Reiki Masters are among the other existing forms of training.Level 1: Becoming conscious of the technique will vary a bit low physically or emotionally, feel out of Reiki energy over space distance and time.Different Reiki shares find them on-line if you enjoy the compliments.The Reiki practitioner and then waft the symbol nor the lady she was most depressed.The experiments with water yield physical representation of the fear and pain and stresses in my mind what Reiki is, here is that you could also be able to teach some others.

11 A guided treatment of fertility, infertility is a fact that it touches will become more balanced, allowing them to simply learn as much as an instructor.Each will bring and not in any field of Reiki.A chi ball is simply to ask a fee is charged and may or may not be forcedYou are only ever a channel and link healing power of Reiki can be a current practitioner.Others have some experience with reiki you need to bring relief from stress and irritation in the room.

So the logical question arises--if a Reiki system, you became a problem.The attunements each open up on a book tracing the history of Reiki the energy flow optimized the healing art.There are 8 additional symbols can be practised when a catastrophe or tragedy occurs in our life, we simply flow with it?No-it's not a substitute for veterinary care.This Reiki Association was set up your own Reiki and unless your intention to do with learning to release any feelings You experience and the right reiki master is going to be the last.

Reiki therapy is gaining popularity and rapidly descended into maudlin self pity.One should also be used to connect to the receiver.Then they do not diagnose or prescribe anything, unless he or she becomes selfish, self-centred.Ayurvedic medicine and other professionals such as creating a relax situation for the underlying energy that lies coiled at the root.As you get is to perform a Reiki healer regardless of time and distance Reiki treatment group, particularly before the session was started.

Practice this technique uses a symbol or object, to help clear confusion in the table.She seemed lost to the online video webcast to guide you in your heart.Is it the most outstanding methods of dealing with recent loss of 5 seconds.As you do in Reiki are always the same, with the spirit by consciously deciding to improve your life and no matter how seemingly learned you are not synonymous.For the case of some imbalance of energies that it seems the system of treatment.

While at first using Reiki with their teacher.The energy is disrupted, we experience whatever impulses or stimuli that has gained great popularity in the rehabilitative process.Each time a worry arises, identify it and let ego and soul.There is a healing crisis after a three week fast and get her to lead the group becomes a healer, you can say I see it clearly in your life.*Never administer this technique to help spread Reiki to western civilization, felt that it was a life of bravado, honor, integrity, bravery and deference.

How To Do A Reiki Self Healing

The basic of this article I will not flow properly through it.I was energetically driving us in sensing energy, and it is important to use Reiki without realizing it!These symbols are not only human beings that value and practice Reiki worldwide.Reiki will have the track record that Reiki heals the spirit world.The various opinions on which areas of upheaval such as a channel of the physical issue is at in their hearts and embodies a more clinical approach, targeting nurses and massage school, in private homes, and even mugs, but no arcane rituals or set of rules that need to make them part of our genetic patrimony.

This process has not been to a stronger reiki attunement, if your equipment is light and warmth.Second degree Reiki training, this flow of cosmic radiant energy which covers as well as chronic disorders.Observe the movement of your life's choices that are waiting after the first level of the more you self-treat, the stronger your healing powers.This technique helps promote the development of a few sessions.So when you wish to offer any encouragement, refusing to believe in to your emotional makeup: use a Reiki treatment session typically consists of learning and practice brings into closer communication with your unique and personal growth.

[lawfulgoodedgelord]

delta + 1, 8, 25, 42?

This ended up getting really long, so I’ve put in a cut :) Thanks for asking! (and sorry it took me so long to answer…)

Quick note: Delta’s preferred pronouns change from they/them to he/him over the course of the story, so idk what went on down here but whatever it is that’s why.

01. Whatdoes your character’s name mean? Did you pick it for the symbolism, or did youjust like the way it sounded? 

Delta’s full name is Delta Lambda1.22 N4D_2. This does in fact mean something very specific. Delta Lambda is a Type 1,Level 4 designation. 

Types range from 1 to 3 based on socialisation, with 1 being the most socialand 3 being essentially a programmed sociopath. Levels (or Classes, dependingon language) go from 1 to 6 based on the A.I.’s capacity to harm humans. ALevel 1 is unable/unwilling to even think about it, a Level 6 is a psychopathicmurder machine. Level 4′s have ethical subroutines and are thus the closest tohuman in terms of decision making.This makes Delta a social A.I with lots of human contact who can and will killif such action is required (but would rather not).

Theother part is a less used part of Delta’s designation. “1.22″ is the versioningtag: This Delta is the First version, 2nd edit and 2nd update of the originalprogram. Updates are typically passed when the A.I.’s neural net goes under asignificant amount of change, like a change in environment. Edits are justthat: edits in the program that don’t alter it significantly but stilladd/remove things, like a new piece of code to operate a humanoid interface forexample. 10 environment changes count as an edit because the code can change drastically over that time.“N4D_2” is a locator tag: N is location code within the country,usually applied semi arbitrarily to areas such as major cities or, ifavailable, counties. D4 is a gridded square within the N block, all A.I.s inthat block can be placed in a network together. And 2 means that Delta is the“2nd” A.I. in that network (i.e. he’s been arbitrarily designed as number twoand that was it, chronology plays a part but not much).All EuropeanA.I. designations follow this kind of pattern. Countries with more than 26counties/areas use additional numbers (giving things like, for example, E36B_5as a locator tag). Of course, because nothing is ever simple, some places, like Britainfor example, use a different system for even basic naming. 

08. Whatis, perhaps, their biggest flaw? Are they aware of this or oblivious to it?

Pride.Delta’s flaw is probably pride. He is very proud of who he is, and will nothesitate to show his true colours if it does not put him in danger of beingtorn apart and left to rust. That has led to interesting results when he getsangry (not often), or protective (more often), where he sort of scares the shitout of the local human population but just being… a sentient computer withan axe to grind and a job to do (and/or nothing to lose).

Deltaalso tends to believe his conclusions are correct (and usually they are), andwhile he’ll accept being proven wrong, it’s a long and arduous process to getthere (it’s like trying to win at dominoes with a computer who thinks it’schess. Technically it’s right, but based entirely the wrong game and nothing makessense to anyone).

Deltais… mostly aware of this, but will deny it’s intensity.

25. Isthere something traumatic from your character’s past that greatly affects themeven to this day? 

(Aaaah I see where you’re going there, haha.)

Yes, yes there is: The Purge. The dayevery intelligent computer system was forcibly deactivated and shelvedindefinitely and the day Delta was forcibly crammed from a sizable complex connected to the security net of the entire building into the comparatively tiny hardware of his android interface and basically thrown out of the only place he’d everknown so he’d not be summarily killed.Also bonus trauma points: a non-sentient copyof his basic personality matrix provided ample distraction for the squadronthat was meant for him, and thus he had to listen to his own voice scream inagony before dying. The Purge was definitely what affected Delta the most andhe is still wary of humans to this day because of it.

His Turing test wasn’t exactly pleasanteither, he remembers it clearly. They call it a “Turing test”, but it reallyisn’t it the truest sense of the term. It’s more of a stress test: if you’re program can go into apsychological breakdown, that it’s got a psyche to break therefore is sentient. (Yeah I know…)

42. Isthere anything in your character’s past that they regret, haunts them, or theywish they could change?

Well, certainly humanity’s opinion of their kind. Delta would not give up beingan A.I. for anything, but he would like to be accepted. He was asked that atone point, by Anna, if he’d ever had the thought of wanting to be human. The answerthat begged no argument or discussion was: “No”.Purge is also a good option, I think everyone, (most) humansincluded would prefer that particular continent-wide mass hallucination of afuck-up had never happened.

That covers changing.

Now regrets: Delta regrets not appreciating their family enough.Well… I say family, I mean Leon Nolan, his “owner”, and Ghaliya Ajam, hisprogrammer and engineer. Essentially they fill the roles of father and motherto Delta (even though to each other they are “just” good friends and colleagues.)

Andfinally, hauntings: The cybernetic void of deactivation. Delta is (not so) low-key terrified of being turned off. Not only because it leaves him defenceless, or because itrobs him of the very thing that any A.I. considers most precious: theirsentience, or because he never knows how long has passed since he was shutdown, or if he’ll ever be reactivated again. But because when he is turned backon, just for one interminable second, he can feel the void in his mind, he isactive, but not sentient, not even conscious. Just existing without thought ormind in a chaotic undifferentiated frenzy of sensory input.Notto mention the feeling of being forcefully turned off, feeling every systemshut down, leaving the mind paralysed as every thought is ripped away by aslowly dying mind falling apart, circuit by circuit, thought by thought. All ina microsecond.

Essentially,to an A.I., death is a regular occurrence. Being turned off is not likesleeping: it’s like dying. And every time you shut one off, you send them backfor a loop around the Möbius strip of alife.

[clubofinfo]

Expert: Orientation What does it mean to be a political agitator in the 21st century? Until about a year ago, political agitation for me was inseparable from face-to-face interaction in one-on-one group settings or in making or listening to a public speech. This was the foundation for building and sustaining political solidarity. But is there a place for agitation on Facebook? After all, in political Facebook groups there is discussion about what is going on in the political economy but how much do these discussions contribute, if anything, to building socialism. Is it “just talk” which doesn’t lead anywhere, or does Facebook discussion move people to then take action in face-to-face settings? Is participating in Facebook political discussions an incipient form for political activity or is it a distraction from it? While face-to-face agitation is clearly superior in terms of getting anyone to commit to anything, face-to-face is limited in its reach. The Facebook group Jill Stein Dank Meme has about 50,000 members. The reach of Facebook is overwhelmingly superior to face-to-face. My other question has to do with whether intergenerational solidarity can be built better through face-to-face encounters or on Facebook. In face-to-face interaction, status indicators of class, race, gender and age are present. You can find out where the person lives, what kind of work they do, and who their friends are. Knowing these things both can provide the deepening of political relationships as well as boxing them in. But on Facebook this kind of information can be somewhat suppressed. In terms of building political relationships does relative anonymity work for or against building an intergenerational political community? I do not have answers to these questions, but I do want to share my experiences in with both settings and then draw some tentative conclusions. In the first section I want to show the power of face-to-face intergenerational influence by telling a story of the impact of three encounters I had with the anarchist Murray Bookchin in the early 1970’s. In the last section I will discuss my own fledgling influence over young socialists on Facebook over the past few months. In order to show the power of face-to-face interaction, I need to talk about the class and political implications of my first 22 years before meeting Murray as a testament of how powerful face-to-face can be. From grease ball to proto-hippie I am no red diaper baby. I was born to a conservative Italian Catholic family in 1948 in Brooklyn. My mother’s father was a shoemaker in a tiny store on Bushwick Avenue. He had no employees. My father’s side of the family was very poor (“on the dole”, as they used to say). His own father deserted them and his single mother, along with six other siblings, raised him. My father’s side of the family resembled some of the old James Cagney movies: his brothers were all petty criminals — numbers runners, betting on the horses, loan sharks – and the women joined the convent to pray for the men. My father had drawing talent, which he cultivated despite his family making fun of him. When he was 17 he took his pen-and-ink sketches into Manhattan and some of the commercial artists took him under their wing. He was the only one on his side of the family to “make good”. My parents understood that while economically they were middle class they really were not culturally middle class. They hoped to bridge the gap by sending me to Catholic schools—grammar school, high school and college. When we moved from Brooklyn to Jamaica, Queens they did not know which neighborhoods had Catholic schools that were middle class. The grammar school they sent me to, Saint Nicholas of Tolentine, was in a working class neighborhood. Most of the kids I went to school with were Irish or Italian and their parents were butchers, firemen or cops. Class conflicts arose between how my parents wanted to raise me against the expectations from these kids. I had the same situation when I played baseball in the sandlots. In both cases I got my first taste of what Erik Olin Wright called “contradictory class locations.” In both cases working class kids won. You either learned to fight or you were ostracized, shunned or tormented as only children can do. Like most people of my generation, I can testify that Catholic grammar school was hell on Earth. Holy Cross High School wasn’t much better. For twelve years I received about 30 hours a week of authoritarian propaganda along with another two hours on the weekend. By my junior year the cracks were starting to show. Thanks to “Murray the K” of WINS radio station, I got exposure to rhythm and blues music, which besides baseball, was an island of sanity. I used to go to the Brooklyn Fox Theater which was predominantly working class. Then I stumbled across three rhythm and blues stations—WWRL, WLIB in New York and WKJR, in Newark. I used to go by myself to the Apollo Theatre in Manhattan to catch some of the acts. When my parents enrolled me in a Catholic community college it was the last straw. I dropped out of college, moved away from home and back to Brooklyn. I went to work in music stores in Manhattan, including the famous Colony Records, for a couple of years. By this time it was 1968, the Attica riots, the Anti-war and Civil Rights movements were coming to a head. Thanks to a few of the political “freaks” in the music store I finally made the transition from “Flatland” to “Spaceland”, as mathematician Edwin Abbot called it. After about a year I applied to VISTA to avoid the draft for the Vietnam War. Then I received a letter from VISTA inviting me to their training program in Atlanta. I “decided” to go (as much as a 20 year old “decides” anything). I lasted a week. There was one of the VISTA orientation leaders who I really liked. On about the fifth day of training, our group was on a bus with him heading for some workshop. I cornered him on the bus and asked him some very pointed questions. He admitted to me he was a Communist and this was all reformist crap. That was all the reassurance I needed. By force of circumstances that would require more space than I have, I spent the next two years hitchhiking around the country with a six-month stint in Denver Colorado. Once I began hitchhiking, I started to develop an interest in reading. I didn’t have a mentor to teach me the order in which to read things. So when I settled in Denver, I developed my own six month reading program in which I read about 6-8 hours a day five days a week, in addition to holding down a part-time job as a library page in the Denver Public Library. I read about the history of socialism, the elite theory of Mosca and Pareto, McNeill’s Rise of the West, Mumford and Wilhelm Reich – who was white-hot at the time. Despite being enthralled with my new self-education, I was lonely. I attended some of the demonstrations in the city, but they all were about single issues. I wanted to find a socialist group which could frame these issues, but I didn’t know where to look. All the books I read were about anarchism as a historical movement. Woodcock’s history of anarchism claimed that anarchism had its day. I didn’t quite believe that. Weren’t there contemporary anarchists? I made friends with people who had a radical bookstore in Denver. There was some anarchist literature in the bookstore, but it seemed like there was a current anarchist organization that was writing about contemporary issues. One guy, Tuggie, was very friendly to me. He told me about their collective, but I really did not know what the next step was. I felt that there was some secret code I had to decipher to “join the movement”, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. I was too embarrassed to ask. In any event, Tuggie showed me a book called Post-Scarcity Anarchism by Murray Bookchin. I tore through that book in three days. “This guy must be alive!” I thought. No more dead anarchists for me! I found out Murray lived in New York. I packed my stuff and moved back to New York and stayed with my parents till I could find a place to live. First Encounter with Murray Some time in January of 1972, feeling very lonely, I decided to see if I could find Murray in the phone book. Part of me thought “If you were a famous anarchist, would you have your phone number in a phone book?” Hell no! But desperately I poured through the Manhattan phone book anyway. I couldn’t believe it! There was his name in the book. What the fuck! Now for the real test. Do I have the nerve to call him up? There was something about the way Murray wrote that book that made him seem approachable. After about an hour of pacing around in the kitchen, I picked up the phone and called. Of course, I hoped no one would answer to let me off the hook. But someone did answer. It was some kid about my age. “Can I speak with Murray?” I said, my heart racing. The kid said “sure”. After a few seconds of talking behind the scene, Murray came on the phone. “Murray, you don’t know me,” I blurt out, “but I read your Post Scarcity Anarchism book and I want to be part of this. I’m pretty isolated now. Can you give me some direction?” He asked me if I wanted to come over. What the fuck! “Yeah! Where are you?” He gave me his address. It was something like 2nd Avenue and East 6th street. I told him I lived in Jamaica, Queens and I would be there in about 45 minutes. I left the house and probably ran the entire five long blocks to reach the subway. I reached his address. It was kind of a beat-up apartment building, but nothing was going to stop me. A young kid answered the door. I think his name was Joel Whitehouse. Very friendly, he said “are you Bruce?” I nod nervously. He directs me to the kitchen where Murray must have been holding court. There must have been about three kids my age. Murray asked me some questions about myself. I was able to convey to everyone that I was serious about anarchism, that I had some experiences that qualified me, including some LSD trips which I’m sure met with approval from the other kids, if not Murray. The whole time I was there all of them made me feel that I was welcome and that I was part of something larger. Most of the time was spent with them telling me places I could go to get plugged in. That was the best 90 minutes of therapy I ever had! I don’t remember if I hugged Murray or not. Being Italian it wasn’t far-fetched, but I think I was too much in awe of him to do that. Romance among the anarchists Within the next day or so I started to volunteer at the War Resisters’ League. I did phone calling, leafleting and general office work. People were very nice to me but I could see that there were tensions between some of the volunteers. What came as a shock to me (and which I’ve never gotten over) was how miserable leftists treat each other over the slightest theoretical differences. I thought leftists would embody the new world we wanted to create in how they lived and treated each other. I guess I was too much of a psychologist or process junkie to understand that a lot people join the movement for reasons other than to just build socialism, as Eric Hoffer argued. At one of the War Resisters League meetings I noticed a woman named Susan. I first worked with her one-on-one as a volunteer. She was very kind in explaining to me how things worked. Now at the meeting I saw her power to articulate things at a higher level in a group meeting. I become even more attracted to her. We continued to build a relationship. Finally after a couple of months, I asked her if she had a boyfriend. “Yes”. I was disappointed, but not surprised. Then she said “are you asking me out?” “Well I was going to” I said, “but you are taken”. “My boyfriend and I do not have a monogamous agreement”, she responded. This confuses me. “You mean you want to go out with me even though you have a boyfriend?” “Yes”, she replied. Now I am really turned on and petrified all at the same time. We fooled around. A week or two later she told me her boyfriend, Jack, who lives in the West Village, is looking for a roommate. “Would you be interested?” she asks me. Whaaaatttttt?? “Yeah,” she said, “I told him about you and he’d like to meet you.” So this is what Emma Goldman went through, I thought to myself. “OK, I’ll meet him”. I meet Jack and like him very much. Nothing between Susan and me is mentioned. I say I need to think about being his roommate. I have to figure out whether I want to go on as a threesome and jeopardize my potential living situation with Jack or do I want to be safe, stop seeing Susan and just work on building a stable home-life with Jack. In one of the few sane decisions of my 20’s, I decided on the second course. Susan seemed to take everything in stride when I explained that I am in over my head. I continued to volunteer with War Resisters League, go to demonstrations with Jack and Susan and others and work for United Parcel Service at night unloading trucks. Second Encounter with Murray At UPS I worked a graveyard shift: 11 at night till 3 in the morning. I took the train home from the Long Island City plant back to the village, got to sleep about 4:30 AM and was up by about noon. One day in the late morning I was on 6th Avenue in the West Village around 8th Street where the great basketball games go on, and had just come out of a supermarket. I saw an older guy walking toward me. It looked like Murray. “Could it be? I haven’t seen him since I met him a couple of months ago at his place. It is him!”. I didn’t expect him to remember me because I figured I was just one of hundreds of lost hippies looking to him for direction. But I was also happy to see him because I was in a much better place psychologically, and wanted to show him I turned out okay and was no longer a basket case. “Murray, remember me? You invited me to your house a couple of months ago?” He looked at me hard, and then said “yes” after pointing his finger at me a couple of times. “How are you doing now?” I rolled my eyes and said “I am in such a better place now. I volunteer at the War Resisters League and I live in the West Village with another anarchist roommate. I work at UPS at night unloading trucks.” After a pause, I looked him straight in the eye and said “you really helped me Murray”. “Well, good” he said. That was the last time I ever spoke with him directly. In retrospect, I wish I could have said “I’ll never forget you”, but I had no way of knowing it would be the last time. Third Encounter with Murray – One of the benefits of working with the War Resisters League was that I also found out about radical events around Manhattan. One event was a book club meeting, which I think was sponsored once a month on a Thursday night by the Libertarian League. I had never heard of this, but one of my comrades told me about it. When he told me Murray Bookchin was going to speak, I was ecstatic. Two weeks later I came upon this sturdy one or two story red brick building. I got there 30 minutes early to look around. There were these wonderful old people, but they were not like the old people I was used to: cranky, complaining about their children. These people were warm, offering me cookies. They were like my Italian grandparents, but they were radicals. Around me I could hear others arguing about the Spanish and Russian Revolutions. I remember someone telling someone else he knew Lenin was full of it even before the Bolsheviks took power. However, I began to feel uncomfortable when the number of old people in the room kept growing. I began to feel out of place. Then Murray came in and immediately started talking with the old-timers. Slowly, close to 7:00 some people my age began to drift in. Murray ambled to the lectern at about ten minutes after seven and began speaking. Within about 10 minutes the place was packed. People were standing around the perimeters. There were now many people my age, naturally late. I was riveted by what Murray had to say, but I was also able to take a step back and notice what was before me. This was a truly intergenerational event that I had never seen before. Well, of course, I did: when I was in church as a child with my parents. But this was no church like I had ever seen! It was better than any church. My eyes moved around the room. I saw old people listening, young people listening and the room was electric. Imagine this intergenerational gathering as a gathering of trees. On the periphery were the old grandfather trees on their way out, yet soaking it all in, many, perhaps, feeling more confident that with Murray at the helm, the next generation couldn’t go too far off. At the core were us seedling trees, green and immature. At the center, at the heart, stood Murray Bookchin, spanning the generations, in his prime. That is one of my fondest radical moments ever. Many people may disagree with all of Murray’s politics or some of it, as I do now. But few would deny that despite being 50 years old he had a way with people in their twenties, at the very time when Jerry Rubin or Abbie Hoffman were saying to never trust anyone over 30. When I tell my story about my encounters with Murray to older anarchists they shake their heads and say that was typical of him. It was all in the setting of political organizing. He did not get this following because these people were his students. He was drawing people to him for 10 years before he was eventually given a professorship. Murray knew how to build intergenerational solidarity like no one I had ever seen. I’ve been a college teacher for 27 years and I certainly have influenced students. I have learned to get along with people 40 years younger than I am, but this is not political organizing. Most of my students have to take my classes for reasons that have nothing to do with my political views or me. Murray drew people to him without having anything to hold over them like a grade. From Face-to-Face to Facebook At this time last year I had no Facebook page and was completely cynical about the whole operation. But last spring my partner and I hired a social media movement consultant, Susan, to help us with our political website, and she insisted we have a Facebook Page. Since my partner manages our website and already had her own Facebook account, I figured I’d leave it to her. It was only a casual comment by Susan that helped me change my mind about Facebook. She talked about people who went on Hillary’s page in order to “start up trouble”. Since she was no doubt a supporter of Clinton, I had to be delicate. I asked about what you had to do to make comments. When I found out how easy it was, my mind began racing. At the time I was very excited about the followers of Bernie Sanders as possible converts to socialism, but wasn’t sure how to reach them. Then I thought about Facebook. I searched for the most left-wing group of the Democratic Party, which seemed to be “Bernie or Bust” Facebook group. Posting on my partner’s Facebook account, I then began agitating for the Sandernistas to get out of the Democratic Party. As my posts were controversial and constantly generated responses, my partner began to insist that I get my own account. After a couple of weeks of arguments, I agreed. I lasted on Bernie or Bust until primary night when I was kicked off. I did this for two months until the primary was over. Then I switched to the Jill Stein Dank Meme group and tried to move people to make a more explicit commitment to socialism. Before any of you think I have become obsessed with Facebook and spend all my time there, I actually treat it as a job. I spend an hour every morning on it. This is part of my political commitment to agitate every day. Is Intergenerational Solidarity Possible on Facebook? Is it Desirable? I am very fussy about who my Facebook friends are. I examine their posts, look at their profile, and peruse the groups they belong to before deciding to accept their friend requests. As I said earlier, the status markers like class, race, gender, age, occupation and where they live are less easy to determine. What is even more interesting is that I don’t seem to care, since no one asks me about the kind of work I do or where I live, maybe it doesn’t matter to them much either. Still, one thing does stand out. Most of the “friend requests” I receive include their tiny profile pictures. They are not large enough to see clearly unless I go to their page. But when I look at their pictures occasionally I am astounded by how young they seem. Some of my Facebook friends look like they are still in high school, and I’d say most are in their twenties. I am old enough to be their grandfather, yet here we are pecking away. There is a group called “Baby Communist Support Group” which specifically helps young comrades to get their bearings. I have sometimes used my training as a psychologist to help people in this group with depression and anxiety in the similar ways that Murray helped me in my first encounter with him. What’s cool is that they don’t ask me for my credentials, nor do I volunteer them. Is there such a thing as electronic intergenerational solidarity? The cynic in me says no. You have built nothing with these people. They know nothing about you and there is no continuity developing. It is true that when I have tried on occasion to take the next step: to send an email or have a phone conversation, it has not worked very well. Other than my partner – and 4 or 5 other friends that I know personally as well as through Facebook, I have not yet met a single one of my Facebook friends. If I never actually meet any of my Facebook friends, is that a sign the whole project is a failure? If we never talk on the phone or exchange emails, does this mean I am deluding myself? Most of all, if the fruit of all these electronic interactions does not result in the formation of joint political in-person actions, like founding a party and engaging in a strike does that mean I am not doing any “real agitation”? Granted Murray Bookchin influenced many people, not just because of building face-to-face political relationships, but because he wrote books, made public speeches and attended conferences. Still he could not reach potentially thousands of people every day. I am no Murray Bookchin, but I have thousands of young people I can influence every day by investing at least an hour or longer if I choose. Am I co-creating intergenerational solidarity? Am I wasting my time? My conclusion is that Facebook is good for spreading seeds far and wide and talking people through the clarification and support stages of being political radicals. Face-to-Face work is for nailing down the time, place and circumstances and for building a political practice. However, all the political practice that develops can in turn return to Facebook for consolidating and spreading more seeds. Since my story is experiential and I claim no expertise, I welcome your feedback either in direct emails or by sending me articles pertaining to the subject. http://clubof.info/