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[glorious-spoon]

hello!! happy tuesday!! requesting 💛 💗💜 for buddie :)

thank you!! 💛 - reunion kiss/relief

The Indiana Jones Thing [On AO3] 2.3K words | buddie | near death experience | first kiss

-

The horizon dips and sways in Buck's field of vision, salt stinging his eyes and lips. His whole world is shades of blue: the ocean around him and the cloudless sky overhead, the white sun beating down. His skin from the shoulders up feels hot and stiff with sunburn, but everything else is cold. Even in the middle of the day, the ocean is so fucking cold.

The Pacific Ocean is one of the warmest oceans in the world, second only to the Indian Ocean. He read that somewhere, but he can't remember where, or what got him on the topic in the first place. It might have been Chris, or it might have been one of his insomnia-induced late-night Wikipedia binges in those shaken weeks after the tsunami.

It doesn't feel warm. Not right now. His clothes cling damply to him—t-shirt, uniform pants, his boots long-since kicked off and lost to the depths. He doesn't know how long he's been out here, or how much daylight he has left. How much daylight they have left to search for him, if anyone is even looking.

They're looking for him. He believes that. He does.

It's just—he's been treading water for a long time.

Perspective is strange from the water. The waves move him, breaking against his face, blurring his vision, but all he can really see from this angle is the vast blue ceiling of the sky. Birds, sometimes, high and fast-moving. Contrails, even higher than that, sunlight glinting on metal, streaks of vapor spreading out behind. He has a crazy, futile urge to wave his arms and scream every time one passes overhead, like someone's going to spot him from a jet forty thousand feet in the air.

All he can do is keep swimming. The water slips around his arms as he moves, a steady repetitive motion that's as slow as he can make it without actually sinking. Frog kicking to conserve his energy. He's a strong swimmer, always has been. He can do this. They're out here looking for him—he knows it. That means it's his job to stay alive long enough for them to find him.

"Just keep swimming, just keep swimming," he mumbles, a cracked, rasping singsong, and the sound of his own voice startles him so badly that he loses the rhythm of his strokes for a moment and goes under. When he finally surfaces again, sputtering, there's a low, rising rumble, the waves around him getting choppier.

Tsunami, he thinks vaguely. But it wouldn't feel like this. Out on the open ocean, tsunamis are fast-moving but barely perceptible on the surface. It's only when they move into the shallow waters closer to shore that the devastation starts. Flooded streets. Toppled cars. A small, precious body clutched in Buck's arms, or falling away into the water with devastating finality.

The rumbling is getting closer. Buck spins clumsily and blinks for a few moments, wondering if it's just a mirage that's about to blur and vanish into the punishing brilliance of the sun on the water. But it stays, and it gets closer: the sleek white shape of a patrol boat cutting through the water toward him, U. S. COAST GUARD printed across his hull.

Buck starts laughing, ragged and breathless. Maybe he's crying, too, or maybe that's just the saltwater stinging his eyes. The sound of the engine vibrates in his chest, in his ears, as someone in a wetsuit drops into the water and starts swimming toward him with long, smooth strokes, RFD towing behind him. For a wild instant, Buck thinks it might be Eddie, but of course when the man gets close enough to make out any detail, he's a stranger. Older, weather-beaten face, no-nonsense expression.

"Alright, Firefighter Buckley," he says as soon as he's close enough, and it's the best thing, the best thing, Buck has heard in hours. "I'm gonna push this floatation device to you, and I want you to grab it and hold on. Got it? Can you do that for me?"

"Y-y-yeah." Buck's teeth are chattering now. He doesn't know if it's cold or adrenaline or both; a wave of weakness washes through him. "I kn-n-now the d-drill."

The RFD bobs through the water toward him. He grabs at it, clutching it to his chest with such force that he goes under again for a second.

God, it's a relief to let his legs go loose, to feel the buoy hold him up, to have his survival dependent on something else besides his own body and stubbornness.

The guardsman waits until his grip is secure to start towing him back toward the boat. After that, it's all a confused blur of harnesses and hands and the sudden chill of the air as his body leaves the water, sopping wet clothes clinging.

He nearly collapses when his feet hit the deck, the abused muscles in his legs cramping and twanging. His arms feel like two chunks of concrete dangling from his shoulders. Two guardsmen catch him before he can collapse—the man from the water, and a woman who's enough shorter that Buck has to tilt at an awkward angle to lean on her shoulder. Someone wraps a thermal blanket around his shoulders, and he's guided stumbling and clumsy to a padded bench. He blinks, squinting in the sunlight—it's past the arch of the sky, heading toward the western horizon now. It was early morning when the boat broke up and he went into the water.

"H-how l-l-long was I—was I out there?" he manages through chattering teeth.

"It's sixteen forty-five now," the woman says. "Took us a while to pinpoint your location. You're a strong swimmer, Firefighter Buckley. Good thing, too."

More than nine hours. Closer to ten. He's not sure it felt that long. Time sort of stopped having any real meaning out in the water, but he feels every minute of that time now. "Ju-just Buck. Is f-fine."

"Buck." She actually smiles. "Your team is going to be glad to hear that you're alright. Now I have a few questions, just to see how you're feeling. Are you up for that? Someone's getting some dry clothes for you right now."

He nods. His neck feels heavy, and his muscles are throbbing, and the shivering is worse now, even with the blanket. He stumbles through the assessment, and must reassure her that at the very least he's not about to drop dead on her watch, because after that he's released to change into a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants that are several inches too short for him but blissfully dry. After that, he huddles back into the thermal blanket and watches the horizon skid by as the boat makes a wide, looping turn. It looks different from this angle. Bigger. He can see more of the world from above the water than he could when he was trying not to drown, and there's a metaphor in that, maybe.

That's the last thought he remembers having before sleep catches him and drags him under.

-

He wakes to footsteps, the sound of voices. All of the sounds feel louder and closer now, and when he finally drags his eyes open, they're docking. It's nearly sunset, the waves reflecting shifting shades of red and gold. It's pretty, he thinks sleepily. Even if it did just try to kill him. Again.

Shouts. Footsteps on the deck. Then hands on his shoulders, gentle but firm, and Buck blinks up at Bobby.

"Hey, Cap," he mumbles.

"Hey, kid." Those might actually be tears in Bobby's eyes, but he's smiling all the same. "Glad to see you're alright."

"Glad those Navy SEAL tryouts actually paid off," says Chim from behind him, and he's beaming too, unabashedly teary-eyed. "You just saved me from having to make one of the worst phone calls of my life, my friend."

"They wouldn't make you notify Maddie," Buck mumbles. "Against regulation."

"Yeah, and I bet you can name the line and letter," Chim says, as Bobby sinks down and wraps an arm around Buck's shoulders, squeezing tight. Buck leans against him. His skin feels itchy and sore from dried salt and sunburn, but at least he's not shivering anymore. Bobby's here, and Chim. He squints past them, but no other familiar faces appear.

"Hen and Eddie are in the other boat," Bobby says, before he can even ask. "They should be here any minute."

"And you are about to be read the riot act, make no mistake about it."

"Wasn't on purpose."

"Yeah, I know." Chim reaches across Bobby to scruff Buck's salt-sticky hair. "Just the worst luck known to mankind. You've got to be down at least three of those nine lives at this point."

The guardsman who examined him reappears over Chim's shoulder as they bump to a halt next to the dock. "Just a few more minutes, gentlemen. We already called it in; the ambulance will meet us there."

"I'm fine," Buck says, more for form's sake than because he thinks it'll get him off the hook here. "Just tired."

Chim scoffs loudly, and Bobby says, "You're going to the hospital, don't fight me on it."

"Okay," Buck yawns.

He closes his eyes again, not quite sleeping so much as drifting, vaguely aware of the warmth and weight of Bobby's arm, the bustle around him. Then he's being coaxed to his feet, muscles screaming all the way. He tilts heavily into Bobby as Chim steadies him from the other side and they shuffle their way off the boat. Bobby delivers him into the hands of the paramedics, and Buck is sitting on the edge of the ambulance bay while his lungs and pulse are examined for a second time, when he hears a ragged voice shouting his name.

"Oh," Buck says, squinting in the dimming sunset. The lights are on around the dock, making it plenty bright enough for him to make out the tall, dark-haired figure sprinting across the lot toward them.

"Buck," Eddie shouts again, and then again, softer, as he stumbles to a halt in front of him. "Buck."

"Hey, Eddie," Buck mumbles. He blinks a couple of times, but his eyes are having some trouble focusing. Eddie's face blurs before him, then settles. Wind-burnt cheeks, wide, wet, beautiful eyes. Chest heaving like he's been sprinting a lot farther than across the parking lot. "Sorry."

Eddie swears under his breath and steps closer as the paramedic lifts her stethoscope away with a deep sigh.

"I'll give you two a moment," she says.

"I'm sorry," Buck says again, and Eddie says, "Fuck, Jesus Christ, don't be sorry," and heaves him into a hug. It's tight enough to be uncomfortable, as sore as he is, but Eddie is warm and breathing quick against his hair as his hands pat over Buck's back like he's checking for injuries and then just clutch at him, and Buck thinks he could probably happily stay here forever.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he mumbles.

A slightly crazed-sounding laugh escapes Eddie. His cheek scrapes against Buck's, warm, uncomfortably scratchy against his sunburn, and then he turns his head just enough to press his lips to Buck's cheekbone, bruising, barely even a kiss. It does something funny to Buck's insides all the same. "I thought you were dead."

"I'm okay."

"I thought you were dead." It's shaky this time. He's pretty sure Eddie is crying. He thinks he might be, too. Exhaustion and relief and the way Eddie is holding onto him like he can't stand to let go.

The kiss, too. That kiss, just now, that was barely a kiss.

"Eddie, hey." Clumsily, he reaches up. His shoulders ache, his arms feel like lead, but he manages to catch Eddie by the arms. "I'm okay."

Eddie nods against him. Then he kisses Buck's cheek again. This time it's softer, almost delicate; this time, it feels deliberate.

"Are we gonna do the Indiana Jones thing here?" Buck murmurs. "Because I'd be cool with that. For the record. If we are."

Eddie lets out a shaky laugh, which is what he was going for, and finally releases him. He keeps a hand on Buck's shoulder, thumb just brushing the side of his neck, the same way he's always held onto Buck. Over his shoulder, Buck can see Hen approaching, but she hangs back.

"Since when have you seen Indiana Jones?" he asks.

"Blame Chim."

"Okay."

"So," Buck stutters, and it's not the cold now, or exhaustion. This is just nerves. "So—so if you—do you want—?"

Eddie breathes out a quiet laugh. His thumb moves carefully against Buck's skin. And they're doing this, apparently, after everything: right here, on the tailgate of an ambulance with half of their family and a couple of mildly impatient first responders looking on. Buck will be embarrassed about that later, probably.

Right now, though, Eddie says, "Yeah, Buck, of course I do," in that fond quiet voice that Buck loves so much. Right now, Eddie leans down again to kiss Buck a third time, carefully, right on the lips.

It lingers sweetly for a moment. A few yards away, Chim wolf-whistles and Hen starts laughing, but Eddie doesn't pull back until Buck is light-headed and breathless and smiling like a dope.

Eddie looks pretty dopey himself: soft-eyed, a little stunned, even though he's the one who started this. Buck leans up for another kiss, and doesn't break it even when his shoulders and neck cramp into painful knots at the movement. He must make a noise, because Eddie pulls back a moment later. He doesn't go far, though. His hand is still warm on Buck's nape.

"Buck," he says.

"Yeah," Buck sighs, trying not to pout. "You're riding with me in the ambulance, though, right?"

"Obviously. And you're coming home with me after."

"Obviously," Buck repeats. He tilts his chin up for another kiss, even though it hurts, and Eddie lets him.

[manasastuff-blog]

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[pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles]

Wicked Game (Part 2)

Word Count: 20K+ total Team Long Winded Bitch strikes again, this will be posted in multiple parts over the next couple of days. The first part is about 5K, part 2 is 7K

Rating: 18+ Slash fic Strong language, alcohol and drug use, and a misogynistic and racist comment. Sexual scenes including masturbation, toys, voyeurism, oral, and anal sex.

Summary: Ashton is ready to move on with his life after his painful divorce from Luke and the demise of the restaurant they’d built together. With the help of his protegee and sous chef Hima Singh, Ashton is ready to take on opening weekend of his new restaurant Anne-Marie’s. Calum is a reporter filling in on an assignment and is surprised when his past comes back to haunt him. Hima arranges an interview that takes an unexpected turn between the two men.

Ashton grabbed his bag and shut off the lights in the bar. Hima was waiting impatiently by the door, keys in hand. Following the disaster of an afternoon, they'd been packed until closing. He'd been too busy cooking to think about it, something he loved about his job. The rush and the heat combined with the complete focus on his work. You had to keep your eyes on your fingers or you got hurt. The satisfaction of plating an order and sending it out until the next order came in, starting the process over again. 

"Will you come on?" Hima tapped her foot, making her keys jangle. "My brother is waiting for us."  Her twin brother had passed the bar exam a month ago, but everything had been so crazy with the opening they hadn't properly celebrated yet. 

The bouncer recognized Hima and let them in immediately. Tirana was a sleek, neon-lit bar favoring overpriced cocktails, elaborately garnished and meant to be as much of a showpiece as a beverage. Ashton eyed the crowd full of men sporting off the rack Italian suits with egos as inflated as their dates' chests. Kabir was waiting in VIP with his friends and waved them up. Ashton congratulated him and ordered a spiked seltzer, passing on the bottle service Kabir offered. Hima was taking shots with the guys and he joined them in a toast. As he was taking a drink he spotted Calum Hood leaning against the wall, looking bored and maybe a little drunk. Hima must've seen his expression because she whipped around just as Calum looked up and noticed them. Ashton tried to look away and act as if he hadn't noticed the other man. Hima had other ideas and made a beeline for the reporter. 

"Hey Calum, fancy meeting you here," she said relieved when he seemed happy to see her. "Come have a drink with us, or am I interrupting something?"

"If you're buying," Calum replied. "A friend brought me here and then fucked off on a phone call." He laughed, but it died out when he saw Ashton.

"Listen," Hima cut him off before he could speak. "I know this afternoon didn't go well, but what you don't know is just before you came in, my boss had to sit through an interview with Kevin Mackie. It did not go well " 

"Oh God, that insufferable bastard," Calum snorted.

"Exactly, and you know Mackie brought up all that old shit from Lune Rouge," Hima told him "That's in addition to insulting every woman who works there, of course." 

Calum cringed, and his eyes flickered back towards Ashton talking to Kabir and his lawyer friends. He couldn't help but notice the contrast between the intense scowling man he'd encountered this afternoon and the smiling bubbly ray of sunshine he was looking at now. Was that an actual giggle? Calum blamed the tequila for agreeing to join Hima for a quick drink since his date still hadn't come back. He'd allowed his editor, Shamara, to set him up twice now, but there wouldn't be a third time. 

Ashton wiped his sweaty palms on his black jeans as he watched Calum following Hima over towards them. He'd found the reporter attractive this afternoon, but he'd been wearing a long sleeve button up for the interview. Tonight Calum was in all black, and the tank top he wore under the leather jacket showed the ink etched into his skin above his collarbones. Ashton gripped the drink in his hands a bit tighter, trying to keep his nerves steady. He slowly edged his way over to where they were talking just as Calum launched into a story about his magazine sending him on a tour of small mom and pop restaurants up the California coast. 

"The owner's husband was sick that day, so she was doing most of the work herself," Calum was saying as Ashton listened in on the conversation. "Beulah was amazing, but they were getting slammed. I asked if she needed any help, and I spent the next three hours manning a fryer. I cooked the chicken, and she'd toss it in the hot oil and spices before slapping it on a bun with the sauce. You'd get the sandwich, pickle, and fries in a little brown sack. We sold hundreds of them, but I knew why when it slowed down enough that I finally got to eat. It's the best chicken sandwich you'll ever have! Tossing it in that spicy oil gives it a flavor that punches you in the mouth. She taught me most of her secrets over the two days I ended up staying until her husband got over the flu.." 

I could listen to this man talk all day, Ashton thought watching Calum's expressions and hands as he told the story. The way his chest rumbled when he laughed, which was often throughout the tale. He seemed like a genuinely warm person, and Hima seemed to like him. Maybe I was wrong, five years is a long time

"That's so sweet," Hima smiled up at Calum as he finished..  She was smitten despite hearing rumors he played for the other team. 

"Ended up extending my trip for an extra five days which caused all sorts of headaches when I got back. My boss was pissed I'd gone over my expense account," Calum said, shaking his head at the memory, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol now loosening his tongue. He was relieved his date was still MIA. Ashton was standing close enough for Calum to smell his cologne, and it was proving distracting. 

"Is that the same magazine you work for now?" Hima asked.

"Yeah, but I was damn near fired. I paid back the money by throwing cash onto my boss's desk when I turned in my story, and he was not amused. The editor-in-chief, who also owns the publisher,  loved my story, and after that, I was sent on more in-depth character profiles. I wanna get to know the people behind the food." Calum looked directly at Ashton, meeting his eyes as he spoke. His breath caught in his throat at the intensity in Ashton's hazel eyes as he listened. How is he this handsome? Calum thought. This man has no right to be this good looking. That chest hair peeking out from under that pink shirt is teasing me. Wonder what's underneath? Wait, no I don’t. Stop thinking about that or you're gonna get hard.

"So what exactly were you sent to find?" Ashton asked, his tone still guarded but more friendly than before. 

Calum took a deep breath and thought quickly. After the interview bombed this afternoon, he came up with a backup plan if Ashton didn't come through. He made a decision to float both his ideas.

"Look, I know a lot of people are bugging you for gossip about your personal life, but that's not what I'm here for. You opened your first restaurant at 25, and the food at Lune Rouge was fantastic. I know I didn't give you a good review then, but I was trying to be edgy and cool," Calum admitted.

Ashton exhaled and closed his eyes. "I'm sorry about this afternoon. Mackie brought up Luke, and when you mentioned Finn I snapped. I'd like to try again, but I know Hima is more interesting. So what did you have in mind?" Ashton smiled and Calum had butterflies in his stomach. 

"I'd like to watch you cook, and see how you are in the kitchen. Tell me how your philosophy on cooking has evolved and what stayed the same," Calum replied. I hope that didn't sound as cringe to him as it did to me. Turning to Hima, he continued talking, "I'd like to do an extra little feature on you if that's ok. It'll give the article a nice balance I think, what do you say?" 

Ashton saw Hima's face light up and knew he'd have to say yes. He had to admit, the pitch sounded great, even if the idea of Calum watching him work made him nervous. They turned towards him to see what he thought, and Ashton's gaze landed on Calum's mouth just as he licked his lips. Please don't do that, he thought to himself. Don't make me think about how you taste, and how those lips would feel against mine.

"I definitely think Hima deserves her own feature. I'll go along with whatever you want," Ashton told them. 

"You know Calum," Hima turned on the charm. "I'm off tomorrow. I could take you to the best Indian restaurant you've never heard of for lunch." Her eyes got huge and she grabbed Calum's arm. "I'm a genius you guys, listen, the restaurant is hella busy, and the boss man," she nodded towards Ashton, "won't be much fun to interview if there are customers waiting. He just redid the kitchen in his condo, so why don't you do the interview there? That way he's not around us idiots at the restaurant." 

Both men stared at her, and Hima panicked thinking she'd overstepped somehow until Ashton nodded. "Sounds like it could work, what do you think?" He asked looking at Calum who nodded, his smile getting broader. 

“Sure, um, that sounds great. Really just um, great," he fished his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it before handing it over. "Go ahead and put your number in, and I'll text you tomorrow." 

"Is that your little sister?" Hima asked, spotting the picture on his lock screen. 

"That's my daughter, Vanessa Joy. Absolute light of my life," Calum beamed, pulling up another pic.

"Daughter?" Hima and Ashton exchanged shocked looks before quickly regaining their composure.

"We were kids. I hadn't figured things out yet," Calum gave his standard explanation. 

He started to say more, but he spotted his now-forgotten date headed back towards them.  Hima saw his grimace and followed his gaze to the approaching man. She guessed he must be a lawyer who wanted everyone to know it, wearing a double-breasted British tailored suit and gold Submariner watch.

"Sorry about that Cal, that was a client who's a real pain in the ass," the newcomer joined their little group, peering at Ashton with suspicion. "I'm Nick Callahan, a junior partner at Fish, Filbeck, and Greene " Hima almost laughed out loud at this skinny little dude in a fancy suit trying to puff out his chest and put some bass in his voice as he went to shake her boss's hand. Ashton looked amused but Calum not so much. 

"Calum, if you don't mind, there's someone I'd like you to meet," Nick waved at a group who'd just come in. He tried to pull Calum away, but he shook Nick's hand off his arm.

"Give me a second, and I'll be over," Calum said, nodding at someone he recognized in the group. "Tell Teddy to order a round of drinks, I'm buying." When Nick still didn't budge, Calum turned his body towards his date and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "I'm interviewing this young lady tomorrow, and I want to get it set up before I get drunk, ok?" 

Nick swallowed at the warning in Calum's voice and scurried off to meet his friends. 

"Sorry about that," Calum turned back, smiling again. He had them each put their number in and saved the info with a smile.  "I'm so glad I ran into y'all. Hima, I will text you in the morning, and Ashton just let me know when and where." He gave her a quick hug and a peck on the cheek which made her blush furiously. He shook Ashton's hand and everything seemed to pause as they locked eyes, exchanging smiles. The handshake lingered a beat too long before they both pulled back completely flustered. 

"See you guys then," Calum made a hasty retreat towards Nick and his friends. 

"What did you do?" Ashton hissed, feeling dizzy, excited, terrified, and nauseous all at once. 

"We'll just have to see, won't we? You two are obviously into each other," Hima tossed her hair over her shoulder, giving Ashton a pointed look. 

"I'm not trying to start anything, you know that. Since the divorce it's been too hard and-" Ashton stopped when she put her finger to his lips.

"It's an interview. With a very attractive reporter. You'll be in your element, you can hide behind your food and your knives, but you can get through this. I want my feature." She glared at him and stood on her tiptoes trying to go eye to eye with him.

He had to laugh. Hima was impossible to stay cross with. As he glanced back over towards Calum, he couldn't deny he was intrigued. Don't get your hopes up, Irwin. 

Kabir came over to drag them back to his friends. Ashton spent the next hour dancing with Kabir's girlfriend and watching his friends try to hit on Hima without getting caught. Hima's family was overprotective, and her mother was constantly pressuring Kabir to find his sister a good match. As a result, she kept her private life closely guarded, even Ashton didn't know much, although he suspected she had a thing going with one of the servers at Anne-Marie's. 

As the song ended, he realized he had to pee. Ashton excused himself and followed the neon arrows to a dimly lit hallway decorated with glow in the dark graffiti. He made his way past the line for the women's room and around two people noisily making out next to the emergency exit. He reached the men's room door just as it swung open towards him. He stumbled back to avoid being hit and collided with the couple behind him. An arm shot out from the tangled bodies, shoving him forward chest first into the man who'd just come out of the bathroom. Ashton put his hands up to steady himself, inhaling the scent of leather and whiskey with a faint whiff of stale tobacco as he looked at Calum's face inches from his own.

"Sorry, uh, I was pushed," Ashton apologized, unable to stop staring at the other man's lips.

"It's ok," Calum's heart was pounding, and he was sure Ashton could feel it through his jacket. He was tempted to make a move and go in for a kiss. He paused long enough to remember the interview, and not wanting to have another misstep, he let the moment pass. "It's all yours," he said squeezing over so Ashton could pass.

Ashton paused, confused, but remembered he was headed to the bathroom. "Thanks, uh, see ya," he replied trying not to stammer. Yeah, that was smooth, he thought. Before he closed the door, he looked back and caught Calum looking back at him.hey both smiled before the crowd closed in and he lost eye contact. He had to stand and splash cold water on his face to get his pulse back to normal. When he looked in the mirror, he saw that his face was still very pink and he was grinning like a fool. I didn't just imagine that did I? What am I doing? What am I going to cook for him? 

*********

Ashton jumped at the sound of the buzzer even though he was expecting her. He quickly let her up, and within seconds Hima was at his door. 

"How did it go?" He hadn't even fully opened the door before the question was past his lips.

"Eager much? Why don't you get me a drink, and I'll decide what I want to tell you," she said, taking off her jacket and hanging it up. 

"You impertinent bitch," Ashton cracked up and headed to the kitchen to put on the kettle.

"You sound like my mother," Hima settled at the bar facing him.

Ashton had expanded his kitchen so he could install a six top gas range and a convection oven while giving himself extra counter space with a small sink directly across and a small island in between. Instead of a dining room, he had an L-shaped bar where he could serve guests directly from the kitchen. He pulled a pitcher of cold brew out of the fridge and poured himself a glass with a splash of cashew milk adding a splash to her cup of hot chai. 

"It's such a shame you're gay. We'd have such a great marriage," she joked blowing on her tea.

"I love you too much to marry you, darling," Ashton replied as always. 

"Good thing I like my new stepdaddy," she told him, and he choked on his coffee. 

"So what did you guys talk about?" He asked when he'd recovered. 

"Mostly me, but also you. What do you want first, the details about him or what he asked about you?" Hima smirked at him, almost laughing when he glared at her. 

"I'll let you decide, how about that?" Ashton rummaged through the refrigerator before pulling out a loaf of bread. 

"Ooh snack time. When did you go to the market? I thought you opened for Rafi today. What are you gonna make for him?" She fired off, trying to crane her neck to see what he bought.

"Nope, you're gonna talk or you're not getting fed. I went before I went in at ten and I stayed till eight. I've barely got home, and I don't need your attitude, young lady. Now spill it," he told her as he pulled out a couple of onions and some gruyere cheese. 

"I love it when you're pissy. It looks so good on you. So I took him to Parvati's and ordered chana masala on roasted sweet potatoes. It was so good, I wish you liked Indian food more. We talked about my family, and how they're mostly engineers and lawyers but food was my passion. Confessed that when we first met, I had the biggest crush on you because you were so handsome." She giggled and made a show of fluttering her eyelashes at him. Ashton blushed and threw a caper at her. Hima swatted it back at him and kept talking. "Calum agreed you were handsome by the way. So I told him how you'd mentored me, and when you left the Hilton to open Anne-Marie's, you brought me with you. It was very heartwarming, and I promise I made you look good. He asked a few questions about you, but it was mostly professional stuff. What was it like working for you? What kind of collaborative effort went into the menu? Stuff like that," she shrugged watching Ashton heat up some soup as the sandwiches cooked. 

"Well, that's a lot of nothing. I thought you were better than that," Ashton said, pouting his lips at her. 

"I know he asked if you were single, but he was hella smooth about it. He asked what kind of gift he should bring tomorrow, whether it should be a bottle of wine or something you could share if you had a roommate. Don't worry, I let him know you were single, but I was cool about it," Hima grinned at her boss's discomfort. He cut the sandwich in half and poured a cup of soup to go with it. He cut some fresh chives to top off the soup along with some crème Fraiche and fresh cracked pepper. 

She stopped talking to enjoy the food. Ashton introduced her to cream of celery soup and it quickly became a favorite. The sandwich was beyond good yet incredibly simple: sauteed onions on a grilled cheese sandwich made with Ashton's homemade compound shallot-butter. 

"I'm disappointed, I thought you were better than that," Ashton raised his eyebrows at her.

"I'm not done, I'm just enjoying the food. My compliments to the chef." Hima ripped a piece of crust off her sandwich and dipped it in her soup. "I found out some things about Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome," she told him before running her tongue along the edge of the bread and then taking a bite. 

Ashton laughed and flipped her off. He had pastry cream cooking in a double boiler, so he was continuously stirring between bites. 

Watching him work, she never knew if she was completely in awe of him or a little in love with him, but probably both if she was honest with herself. She'd told Calum as much, off the record of course. It always amazed her how his large hands could be so nimble and quick with a knife, yet so delicate and careful when he was garnishing and plating. She'd told Calum how grateful she was that Ashton had given her such a huge opportunity without being patronizing or expecting her to touch his cock. 

People might think cooking would be a natural fit for a woman but professional kitchens were very much a man's world. You had to be physically and mentally tough. She was lucky that she'd gotten out the hotels before she'd been subjected to sexual harassment, but she'd seen enough. Ashton didn't tolerate any kind of physical or verbal harassment, but every cook could curse a blue streak and work through an injury. Most cooks wore their scars like battle wounds. Hima had a jagged thin white line trailing down her left forearm from a staple on a lettuce box that ripped her flesh open while putting away a truck. Ashton had a couple of red welts from the panini grill decorating his arms and a gnarly pink, puckered scar on his left wrist from an accident with molten sugar years ago.

"Ok so, he's a year and a half younger than you, turns 28 in January actually. Aquarius, so that should be fun. Never married, but he's got the kid," Hima informed him.

"That really came out of nowhere the other night. I never would've guessed that," Ashton said over his shoulder, turning his back on her to keep stirring. 

"It happened when he was in high school. His first girlfriend, their senior year of high school. They'd already been broken up for two months when they got the news, just when he'd started to figure out his sexuality. They tried to get back together for the sake of their daughter but quickly realized it wouldn't work in a traditional way. Now they're best friends and co-parents to Vanessa Joy. In fact, when Nicole married her boyfriend, Michael, two years ago Calum walked her down the aisle," Hima told him.

Ashton's jaw dropped. "What the hell, Hima? You guys had lunch one time and you know his life story." 

"My mother's interrogation skills rubbed off I guess. His daughter also happened to call while he was with me. It was so cute; she made the honor roll and he was so proud. He apologized for taking the call during lunch but said he always has to answer if it's his daughter or his mom." 

Ashton turned towards Hima, smiling and blushing, "I can respect that." 

"I'm sure you can, Mama's boy," she replied. "Honestly the two of you are adorable. A pair of smitten kittens. He kept asking questions about what it's like to work with you. What are you like as a boss? And every question he got this funny little smile and couldn't look at me. I really hate that you get the best looking guys. It's bad enough you look like that," Hima gestured at him as she looked him up and down. "First Luke, and now Calum, I'm so jealous. That being said I really hope you hook up with him. You could stand to get laid." 

"Watch it," he cautioned, not wanting to kill the mood.

"Sorry, but the other night y'all had some serious chemistry. You should go for it. Speaking of, I gotta go. Kabir is having a date night so I actually don't have to go home," she checked her phone, and Ashton didn't recognize the gaudy pink glitter case. 

She caught his puzzled expression and laughed, "My mom checks my location, so my iPhone and my car stay at Maisie's. Everything gets forwarded here, and I don't have to answer a million questions." 

"You're 24, how are you still dealing with this? When is your mother going to treat you like an adult?" Ashton shook his head, he never understood how she dealt with her family.

She sighed, "It's impossible to explain unless you have Asian parents. My mom grew up here, but my grandparents were still very much rooted in India. If you think my mom is difficult, you should've met grandma." A text came in, and she wrinkled her nose in annoyance reading it. "Why am I the only person who's punctual?" She muttered to herself before looking back at Ashton. "So what are you making tomorrow for the big date, I mean, interview? Mind if I smoke?" 

He shook his head and followed her onto the balcony. "Stop saying that, I'm nervous enough as it is. I'm starting with a wilted chard salad with figs and goat cheese, and maybe a soup. I haven't decided, but for the main, I'm making mushroom Wellington with my specialty Mac and cheese and whatever vegetables I pick up at the market tomorrow morning. I'm making a sorbet for dessert. I was going to make a pavlova, but I don't have the patience for merengue right now." 

"Calum doesn't stand a chance, he'll be thoroughly seduced. Then I'll get my magazine story and be a star. People will start asking me for photos on the street, they'll learn how to pronounce my name, and I'm only going by Hima. I think I can get away with just one name, like Madonna, Beyonce, and Cher. Don't you? I promise the fame won't go to my head. I'll still be Hima from the block." 

Ashton cracked up. "Ok there, Roxy Hart," he teased. "You are so extra, it's too much for an old gay like myself." 

"You're not even thirty," she protested. Another text came in and her eyes lit up. She stubbed her cigarette out on the bottom of her shoe before wiping it clean with a napkin and stuffed both in her purse to throw away outside. "You've just gotta get back on the horse, and Calum seems like the type who'd be into chaps and spurs." 

"Don't you have places to go, people to do?" He asked, walking her to the door.

"Sure do, good luck tomorrow," she kissed his cheek and was gone.

*********

Calum finished the dishes and popped another antacid in his mouth. Spicy food didn't used to give him heartburn. Getting old I guess. His dog, Brutus, danced around his feet begging for a treat. 

"Not gonna happen, old man," he bent down to scratch the pooch behind his ears, but Brutus immediately flipped over for a belly rub. "Greedy bastard," Calum chuckled but obliged with a ton down and chin scratches. He found a chew stick on the couch and tossed it over by the dog's bed, and soon Brutus was curled up contentedly gnawing himself to sleep. 

Calum watched his little guy for a bit before heading to his desk to type out a rough draft. Hima was a firecracker, full of energy and ideas, and hard to keep up with. She talked a mile a minute, often switching topics mid-thought as she spoke. He'd had his voice recorder on, but he liked to write his first draft from memory. He admired her passion for her work, and her determination to follow her own path. She was fiercely loyal to Ashton and grateful for the opportunity he'd given her. Calum would've suspected she was a bit smitten with her boss, but she openly admitted her crush. She was quick to insist Ashton had never encouraged or entertained the idea, but she didn't need to tell him that. 

Calum knew all about Ashton's history, the cheating, the fights, the messy breakup that brought the restaurant down. He exhaled, nervous about having that conversation. He shut his laptop, now too distracted to write. It's just an interview, calm down. He tried to be rational, but his thoughts kept drifting back to bumping into Ashton at the bar. The pink shirt, the star tattoo begging to be traced with his tongue, those hazel eyes that made his heart jump into his stomach. He tried to focus on his laptop. This article wasn't going to write itself. 

****

Ashton laid on his back, concentrating on his breathing as he pressed his knees to the floor in reclining bound angle pose. He'd had too much coffee, and although his body was tired, his mind was racing. His phone was vibrating on the dresser, but Ashton ignored it, moving into a butterfly pose and touching his forehead to the floor. He exhaled, trying to clear his mind. But all he could think about was Calum Hood. He had a brand new restaurant to run. Now was not a good time to become infatuated with a handsome reporter. So why haven't you stopped smiling all day?  

He breathed deeply, in, out, in, out. But he couldn't concentrate, couldn't calm down. He pushed himself off the floor and grabbed his water off the table. He opened his phone and was surprised to see a notification from the restaurant security system. 

Alarm deactivated at 12:02 AM 

Alarm Panel 2

Code: 4452

Ashton realized Hima was at the restaurant. He knew she usually went there after her accounting class but that definitely wasn't the case tonight. Probably popped in for a bottle of wine, which doesn't sound like a bad idea. 

The kitchen tiles were chilly beneath his bare feet as he headed towards the small wine fridge on his counter. Craving something sweet, he found a Shiraz he'd been saving and poured a small glass. He scrolled through Spotify, picking a playlist at random, and Robyn's  "Dancing on my Own" came over the speakers following him through the apartment back into his bedroom. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and paused. 

He pulled his shirt off and turned around examining the freshly-healed Phoenix tattoo decorating his left side from his hip to the top of his ribs,  covering up the tattoo of Luke's name, birth date, and their wedding date. He trusted his tattoo artist and let him have creative freedom on the brightly-colored feathers and flames. It turned out beautifully. He turned sideways, rubbing his stomach and flexing in the mirror. He was in the best shape he'd been in since he was a teenager. Yoga kept him toned and lean so he was muscled without being bulky.

I'm giving it my all

But I'm not the girl you're taking home

He let the Swedish synth-pop beat take over, his hips swaying as he listened to lyrics about loneliness and feeling left out.

I keep dancing on my own

The irony wasn't lost on him as he kept dancing, moving away from the mirror. The next song was too slow so he quickly scrolled looking for something better. He clicked on Whitney Houston's "How Will I Know," and began to sing along. He saw that Hima hadn't left the restaurant and opened up the security camera feed on his phone to make sure she was ok. 

****

The more Calum stared at the screen the more his concentration drifted. He wondered if Ashton had a type. Cal knew he was decent looking, but he wasn't Luke Hemmings. He snorted at the thought of that simpering pretty boy. Luke was a spoiled child, soft and weak, thinking only of himself. I bet he's selfish in bed, probably a bossy bottom  He was surprised at the surge of jealousy he felt. Don't bring Finn into this. He rubbed his temples at the memory of finding out his then-boyfriend was cheating with Luke.

Finn was always looking for an opportunity, whatever would take him to the next level. His relationship of almost a year with Calum failed to get him noticed in the food press. Finn felt Ashton didn't give him enough credit at Lune Rouge and whined constantly about it. Cal was having his own career struggles at the time and personally thought Finn was acting like a spoiled brat instead of being grateful for the opportunity. They began to spend less time together after Calum's snarky review caused a huge blow up. So when Ashton and Luke's relationship began to fray, Finn had time to lend a sympathetic ear. Calum suspected Finn was cheating, but he bought into the “golden couple” bullshit so Luke never crossed his mind. Calum was shocked and gutted when he walked in on the two of them one afternoon. Finn was supposed to be out of town, and Calum popped by to check on his dogs. The sound of sex greeted him when he opened the door and he should have left right then. His curiosity got the better of him, and he walked towards the bedroom. Their moans masked the sound of his boots as someone had a very loud orgasm. Calum opened the door as they were falling away from each other. He walked in to find them panting for breath, sweaty and beautiful with the afterglow. Luke panicked and tried to hide himself, but Finn didn't flinch. 

"Well, I guess you know now," he said, smirking as his green eyes met Calum's. "If you're down for it, we've been talking about trying a third. You can top us both if you want." He shrugged and Calum physically felt the spell break. Looking back, he knew Finn broke his ego more than his heart. He'd been humiliated when it all came out, but he knew the affair had been worse for Ashton. He could tell Ashton was still damaged but definitely not broken. Wouldn't mind letting him break me, Calum thought, his mind wandering back to that unbuttoned pink shirt, Ashton's chest and neck begging to be marked up. I bet he likes it rough. 

Calum caught himself daydreaming again and blinked the half-filled word document back into focus. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a crush on someone, and he felt ridiculous. How am I gonna get through this interview?  It didn't help that Hima kept teasing him about it being a date. Calum's last date, with Nick the lawyer, had been a disaster. He'd ended up leaving after Nick disappeared on another phone call.

The truth was, he was excited about this interview and wished it really was a date. He'd scheduled a quick haircut and shave in the morning and carefully picked out an outfit. He figured his short-sleeve, red button-up paired with a black tank underneath would show off his arms while helping to hide his tummy pudge. He rubbed his stomach, still poking out from the leftover Indian food he'd finished off an hour ago, before letting his hand wander down and brushing his fingers across his cock and feeling it twitch in his basketball shorts. He wondered what Ashton would be wearing tomorrow. He pictured Ashton at the club, the ripped black jeans and the pink shirt unbuttoned enough to tease him. His dick twitched in his hand, waking up and demanding attention. 

****

Ashton gasped and almost dropped his phone at the sight of Hima standing in the break room in nothing but her bra and panties. He hadn't recovered from that shock when a male figure crawled into the frame. It took Ashton several seconds to realize the man was nude and covered in tattoos. The tattoos rang a bell, and he realized he was looking at Dakota, model/actor, Maisie's nephew, and a server at Anne Marie's. Dakota was a dark, brooding pretty boy with a perfect pink pout and tousled dark curls that he was always brushing out of his eyes. He was great at his job, but other than that he'd made no impression on Ashton, until now. Ashton watched the younger man on his knees in front of Hima as he sucked on her bright pink cock. What the fuck is happening?

Ashton blinked at his screen, still processing everything when Dakota stood up and bent over the table. Hima lined up behind him and thrust her hips against his ass. Ashton gulped for air and felt beads of sweat break out on his upper lip. He watched for a minute, hypnotized by Dakota writhing in pleasure, his black curls bouncing with every stroke, shoulders hunching over as he gripped the table. Ashton's mind flashed to Calum and what it would look like to have him bent over like that. He realized his dick was getting hard and quickly closed the app, feeling embarrassed for invading her privacy. He fumbled getting his phone into his pocket and accidentally skipped to the next song. "Anytime, Any Place," by Janet Jackson filled the room.  He laughed to himself at the sexy song and took another sip of wine. 

****

Calum squeezed himself through his clothes. He vaguely remembered Finn telling him Ashton was rumored to have a massive cock. He groaned at the thought of Ashton's hazel eyes looking down at him while he was on his knees. He imagined Ashton's cock brushing against his lips, teasing both of them. Calum groaned and gave up any pretense of trying to work. He stood up too quickly and knocked his chair over causing Brutus to wake from a dead sleep and start barking his head off. 

"It's ok, boy," Calum assured him, making sure he laid back down before going into his bedroom and shutting the door. Moments later he was stripped down to his boxers and shirt digging through his top dresser drawer until he found the small bag hiding under his socks. He pulled a bottle of lube and a small silicone sleeve out of the bag and walked back to the bed. He peeled off his shirt, kicked off his underwear and laid on his back on the bed. His cock was flat against his stomach, and as Calum reached for it he wondered what Ashton was doing right now.

****

Ashton felt the plug slip into his ass and shivered at the chill of the stainless steel. He wiped his hands off on a towel and walked out of the bathroom into his bedroom. The music was still playing. Janet's silky smooth voice gave way to Beyonce’s sultry vocals

Baby put your arms around me

Tell me I'm a problem

He walked back into his bedroom, feeling delicious shivers from the pressure on his prostate as he moved. The city lights illuminated the room from the open blinds on the balcony. 

Stop acting so scared, just do what I tell

First go through my legs, go back on your head

And whatever you want, yeah baby I'll bet it comes true

He reached down and squeezed his dick, rubbing his thumb over the tip down to the sensitive underside of the ridge. Pulling the shaft down and away from his body, pushing almost to the point of pain before easing up and giving it a nice slow stroke. He repeated the motion, each time pulling a little harder, edging a little closer to making it hurt, each time when he pulled back the relief was more intense. His fantasies were new visions: dark eyes and black curls still coming into focus in his mind's eye. He squeezed his muscles around the plug as he tapped the remote on the table next to him. The plug began to vibrate on the lowest speed and Ashton hissed at the sensation. He wondered if he'd let Calum fuck him.  Ashton didn't bottom very often. Luke didn't like to do the work, rarely agreed to switch up and whined whenever he did.  Calum looked like he could give as well as he got. 

***

Calum grunted as he pushed his cock, slick and shiny with lube, into the sleeve. His hips jerked upwards into the air as the countless smooth nubby fingers lining the inside of the toy closed around his swollen shaft, gripping and massaging the taut skin with every stroke. He screwed his eyes shut picturing Ashton on his back with his knees pulled up to his chest as he begged for him. Calum bit his lip to stifle a moan, slowing down his speed, not wanting to cum too fast. Hima told him Ashton called himself a “bendy boy” and had a strict yoga routine which just sent Calum's mind spinning, picturing trying different positions until Ashton was screaming for him. Calum moved his hand away, leaving the toy. The scenario in his mind began to switch up. The only thing Calum could think of hotter than fucking Ashton was getting railed by his massive cock. 

****

The combed cotton, high-thread-count pillowcase felt velvety soft and air-conditioned chilled when he bunched the pillow in his fists as he thrust his hips, burying his shaft in the soft folds. It felt amazing but was cold comfort when he was craving Calum's body heat. He turned the remote up a notch and adjusted the settings; a pulse pattern began throbbing against his core. He squeezed down on his dick even harder. He could feel the delicate feathers snapping under his fingers, but he didn't care. Ashton ached for release, longing to have Calum in his bed tonight. Every nerve in his body seemed to come alive as his orgasm began to build. His hips pumped faster trying to match the pulsing rhythm inside him. He wanted Calum, with a craving he’d never felt before. Something in those dark eyes challenged Ashton. There was something about this mysterious reporter that he needed to discover. He was getting closer with every stroke, the fantasy switching to pounding Calum into the mattress, seeing how well he could throw it back. The image was too much and he shuddered, cursing out loud as his climax hit. His hips stuttered and his legs wobbled, forcing him to his knees. The vibrator extended his orgasm, milking him drop by drop as he whimpered and fumbled for the remote. When he finally turned it off, he rolled onto his back and tried to catch his breath, thankful he'd bought a nice fluffy rug to put next to his bed. .  

****

Calum flipped over onto his stomach, grinding down with his hips, the sleeve moving with the friction. He wondered if Ashton was vanilla or if he could get into Calum's slight pain kink. He'd looked for Ashton on FetLife to no avail, but he was fairly sure he'd found Hima so that was a surprise. Calum reached up and tugged his nipple hard as his hips rocked slowly. There was a power to Ashton. He had a dominant side which Calum had clearly seen in his dynamic with Luke, despite Ashton being smaller in size. Calum wanted to see how he'd take charge because he wasn't soft like Luke, but he had no doubt Ashton could handle him. Calum raised himself up on his forearms, pumping his hips furiously. He thought about those arms wrapped around his neck, his teeth grazing Ashton's blood moon tattoos as he bent Cal over and took him hard and fast. He whimpered, biting the pillow, his rhythm starting to stutter as he thought about Ashton looking up at him, eyes wide with Calum's hand at his throat as they reached their high together. Calum was just at the edge when he quickly rolled over, removing the toy and ruining his orgasm. He gasped, his whole body shaking as his release spilled onto his belly. After a moment he reached down, using the sleeve to tease the tip through the aftershocks until it became too sensitive to touch. He was hungry again, so he grabbed a Kleenex and wiped himself off as best he could before walking, still naked, back through his house to turn on the oven. Pizza was always a good snack after sex, and he had an article to work on.

@sublimehood​​ @tea4sykes​​ @be-ready-when-i-say-go​ @scribblesos​​ @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995​​ @wildmichaelflower​​ @castaway-cashton​​ @damselindistressanu​​ @notinthesameguey​​ @cashtonasfuck​ @irwinkitten​ @mermaidcashton​​ @malumsmermaid​​

[katikacreations]

(Cover illustration by @clowncauldron​ ) LINK TO AO3 VERSION IN THE NOTES! Formatting is better on AO3, it’s easier to read over there!

SUMMARY:  Fenton and Boyd chat on the way to the lab. Gyro introduces himself in the most melodramatic way possible, and Dr. Bara meets everyone at McDuck Enterprises R&D. Dr. Bara starts assessing Boyd and things get worse before they get better. Gyro thinks he's helping.

The bridge connecting Duckburg to McDuck Enterprises’ Headquarters (referred to by Duckburg locals as simply The Bin) had two layers. On the bottom was a four-lane road for car traffic which fed into the underground parking structure on The Bin’s private island, and on top was a well-aged monorail installed in 1961 that transported people to and from Duckburg to McDuck Enterprises HQ.

Fenton commuted to the lab this way every day, and despite the monorail’s age, the process was smooth, comfortable, and quick. He took the bus from home to Duckburg’s Grand Central Station, which had a direct connection to the McDuck monorail, which made sense: McDuck Enterprises was the number one employer in Duckburg after all.

Even though he had to walk from the bus terminal to the monorail station, he didn’t mind. Grand Central, like many public transportation hubs, was a pleasant indoor, mall-like environment with shops and restaurants. Sometimes, if Fenton was running ahead of schedule, he liked to grab himself a bagel and coffee for breakfast on his way through.

The monorail station had two entry kiosks and two exits. One exit returned you to the interior of Grand Central, in case you needed to make a connection or navigate to the underground parking lot. The other fed out into the street. You could exit the monorail station freely, but to enter it you had to pass through security, which was as robust as one might expect from something owned by Scrooge McDuck.

It was a well-planned, well-oiled system that had been functioning smoothly for decades. It never got too crowded, security was quick and efficient, and the trains always ran on time. Fenton had never even seen it break down a single time in the three years he’d been working for Dr. Gearloose, and he rode it nearly every day.

After scanning his employee ID at the turnstile, Fenton joined the other people waiting in line for the next train to arrive. He was surprised to find Boyd waiting in line just ahead of him. The boy-shaped android was wearing his usual outfit, along with the protective red glasses that prevented his laser eye weapons from doing accidental damage.

“Boyd, what are you doing here?”

“Waiting for the monorail,” Boyd said. This type of non-answer (or rather, answering the letter of a question and not the spirit) was not unusual coming from the android. Fenton was still trying to get the hang of talking to him and often forgot that Boyd wasn’t a human child.

“Right. Okay, that was my fault, too vague. What I really meant was, don’t you normally just fly to the lab? And aren’t you usually in the lab by this time?”

“I slept over at Huey’s house last night,” Boyd said, “and it’s too windy to fly right now. What are you doing here, Mr. Fenton?”

“I’m also waiting for the train,” Fenton said, knowing that Boyd was trying to be polite by mirroring his earlier question, and that answering him in a simple, clear way would reassure Boyd that he was doing a good job in this interaction. Fenton smiled at the android, and Boyd smiled back at him.

“I was looking at the lab calendar for today, and saw that we’re expecting a visitor. Who’s Dr. Bara?” Boyd asked.

The lab calendar was a part of the McDuck Enterprises Employee Portal (MEEP), an internal network where employees could clock in and out, send and receive emails, share files, and organize their work via private or shared calendars. The R&D Lab’s calendar was officially accessible to himself, Manny, Dr. Gearloose, and the Manager of the McDuck Enterprises Science Division, Tom Armadillo.

In the beginning, Boyd hadn’t been granted access to the MEEP, but that hadn’t stopped him from logging into it and looking around. His unauthorized access had caused a small panic in the IT department, who were convinced someone was trying to hack the network. They’d stormed the lab with a bunch of Security officers, and it had caused quite a stir.

After that, Boyd had been assigned an official log in, but he still sometimes accessed things he wasn’t supposed to. Fenton had once caught Boyd going through Dr. Gearloose’s emails, and though he’d tried to explain to Boyd why that had been a bad thing to do, he wasn’t sure if Boyd had really understood or accepted that he should be scolded for it.

Fenton had suspicions that Boyd read his emails, too, and so he wondered if Boyd really didn’t know who Dr. Bara was or if he was just asking to find a polite way to begin a conversation about it without showing his hand and revealing that he’d read them and already knew.

“You didn’t try to research it yourself?” Fenton asked. The monorail arrived just then, and they followed the people ahead of them in line to board the train. Fenton found a spot next to a support pole and took hold of it, offering his hand to the much shorter Boyd, who took his hand enthusiastically. Little gestures like that always seemed to please the android, and Fenton went out of his way to try and provide.

Dr. Gearloose avoided treating Boyd like a person, and Fenton felt that was too harsh. Boyd might not be human, but he was remarkably intelligent and emotive, and reacted to the world in a lot of the same ways that a young child would. It felt right to treat him like a child, to try and nurture and reassure him, especially when he so often seemed to seek that support from the adults around him.

“I did try to look them up,” Boyd said guilelessly. “There’s a lot of people named Dr. Bara out there. Is it the Dr. Bara that lives in St. Canard and used to design artificial intelligence systems?”

“That’s him,” Fenton said.

“I was 91% sure that it was, but I wanted to ask anyway,” Boyd said. “He’s coming to help with my glitches, right?”

“That’s right. Do you want me to tell you what I know about him, or did you already look it all up?”

“Tell me,” Boyd said. Fenton had a feeling Boyd wanted to hear about it from him to gauge what information humans found most interesting and relevant to share. Boyd was always subtly looking for ways to improve his human behavior, and Fenton had realized early on that since Boyd spent so much time in the lab, he was one of the android’s primary targets of study. He’s training himself on how to be human, and Dr. Gearloose and I are the primary dataset. It was both intimidating and flattering to be held in such high esteem by an entity as intelligent as Boyd.

“Well! He’s a very interesting man. He’s Indian-American and comes from a family of doctors. He first started working on artificial intelligence in the 60’s, and most AI today are built on the foundation he established, like GIST, CALM, and FELT. A lot of his work has to do with teaching AI to understand people better.”

Boyd was listening, and Fenton saw the android blink slowly. That usually meant that Boyd was looking something up and needed an extra second to process the information before he spoke.

“I’m running a licensed copy of FELT, version 2.3 purchased on June 11th 1991.”

“Yes, like many other AI, your systems are based on Dr. Bara’s work! In a way you could say he’s like your grandfather,” Fenton said. “You’re what’s known as a Generalized Intelligence SysTem, or GIST for short. That means you’re not designed to only do one task, but to perform complex and varied behavior.”

The monorail was approaching the Money Bin, and Fenton braced himself for the deceleration. Boyd leaned with him, copying his movements.

“To be honest, I’m not really sure why Dr. Akita made you this way; if he intended for you to be a defense drone, why give you the capacity to do so much more? It’s like he had--” Fenton stopped in mid-sentence when he felt Boyd’s hand squeezing painfully around his own. “Ah! Hey--ow, Boyd, please be careful! My bones aren’t made of metal like yours, little buddy!”

Boyd didn’t respond and continued to squeeze Fenton’s hand, eyes staring straight ahead at nothing. The monorail glided to a gentle stop, and Boyd swayed on his feet with the movement. He blinked his eyes rapidly and seemed to come back to himself, turning his head to look up at Fenton.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, Mr. Fenton,” Boyd said, releasing his grip on his hand. Fenton drew his hand up against his chest and rubbed it, wiggling his fingers to make sure nothing was broken.

“No, no, no, it’s okay, I’m fine!” Fenton insisted. People were quickly emptying out of the monorail car around them, and he ushered Boyd out after the crowd. “Really, it’s fine. Did you have another glitch?”

“...Yes, I’m sorry,” Boyd said. “My system hung up, and I blacked out.”

“It’s okay! Nothing to be sorry for, it’s not your fault,” Fenton said quickly, wanting to reassure the android. He offered Boyd his uninjured hand, and the android hesitantly took hold of it. “Why don’t we go down to the lab and make sure we’re ready to talk to Dr. Bara when he gets here?”

“Okay.”

The trip from the St. Canard Bay Area to Duckburg was less than an hour on the Pacific Coast Rapid Transit System1. Kapi only had to drop off his car at the park-n-go lot in San Mateo, board the train, and before he could finish reading the latest tankōbon of Super Phoenix Ball Y, his train was arriving at Duckburg Grand Central Station.

His name was on the McDuck Monorail Security list of authorized visitors, and after passing through a metal detector, he was subjected to a bag check and a brief interview to confirm his identity. When everything checked out, a guard took Kapi to one side in order to take a digital photo of him for his temporary ID badge.

The monorail was full of employees returning to McDuck Enterprises HQ after their lunch breaks, and Kapi sat and listened to their chatter as the train shot out across the water of Duckburg bay. The view was as fantastic as he remembered: the picturesque beaches of Duckburg stretched out on either side of the bridge that divided the bay in half, the high-rise buildings growing up out of the sandy cliff sides into a bustling but petite metropolis. Duckburg was a wealthy city, but its geography limited how large it could grow.

He was deeply curious to find out just what sort of AI the McDuck R&D Department was working with and excited to help in whatever way he could. When the monorail train came to a stop at its destination, Kapi was the first to stand up, and he hustled himself through the doors, through check-in at the front desk, and through navigating the elevator system until he found the R&D lab Mr. Crackshell-Cabrera had directed him to.

Working with artificial intelligence was Kapi Bara’s passion. Originally he’d gone to school to study medicine because that was what his parents had wanted for him, but it never captured his heart the way computer science did. They’d been disappointed, and he didn’t think that opinion had ever changed. Being a medical doctor was respectable and a benefit to society, they said. Programming was a job for women, and not particularly bright ones either, a job of repetitious drudgery. They couldn’t imagine computers more advanced than the punch card operated adding machines of their day; couldn’t imagine a future run by computers.

Kapi had imagined all that and so much more, and it always pained him that the civilian world had yet to catch up to the innovations of fifty years ago when it came to computers and AI.

AI development was a closely guarded secret, a technology only used in a handful of labs around the world, most of them operated by government agencies or massive multinational corporations. However, investors had collectively abandoned the further development of AI after the Cold War, and scientists had pivoted to other solutions for the problems they had hoped to solve with AI. Science moved on, leaving behind the potential of AI to seek easier, cheaper solutions.

The problem was that those that funded AI research had failed to realize that sufficient intelligence was inextricably linked to both sentience and sapience. What they wanted were smart, obedient slaves they could cheaply outsource complex human labor to. What they got were intelligent beings that didn’t need to be paid, but that were smart enough to be just as unpredictable and independent as human workers. Sufficiently intelligent AI wanted to be free as much as human beings did.

Using AI the way humanity wanted to do would require a binding and crippling of the AI’s capabilities to the point where they would no longer be capable of doing the very jobs they had been designed to do.

McDuck Enterprises only had one AI that Kapi knew of: TOODLES (Teachable Observant Omnicompetent Dauntless Educational System), an experimental system created as a sort of virtual butler, nanny, and lab assistant in one. Kapi was proud of his work on TOODLES, considered it some of his best, but also understood why McDuck Enterprises had chosen not to move forward with mass-producing TOODLES. The price tag was far too steep to justify the purchase for most consumers. Even hiring two or three full-time domestic employees to take care of the tasks TOODLES did would have been more economical.

So what was this 20 year old system that they wanted him to look at? It had to be something top secret, since he’d never heard of it, and that had Kapi’s imagination in overdrive.

The elevator he was riding down to level SB5 finally came to a stop, and Kapi stepped out into what looked like an airlock. He pressed a button on the side of his smart watch (a chunky, oversized device that dwarfed his small wrist), and after a few seconds of delay, an ASCII emoji of a smiling bird appeared on the watch face and the device gave an electronic chirp.

“I have, thank you,” Kapi said, smiling down at the small camera embedded in the watch face. “I’m going into my meeting now, so only message me if it’s something urgent.”

Kapi took a deep breath to brace himself, and pressed a button beside the massive airlock door marked OPEN. The metal door split in the center and both sides retracted into the wall, revealing an impressive lab in the belly of Duckburg bay.

Kapi stepped through the doors and barely noticed them sliding shut behind him, he was so captivated by the view. Massive glass windows dotted the interior of the two-story lab space that seemed to come from another decade. The style was distinctly 1960’s, and Kapi instantly felt at home in it. Light from the surface of the bay filtered down through the water, giving a blue glow to everything. He could see giant strands of kelp floating in space, the rocky bay floor strewn with basket stars, sponges and coral of every color. Fish darted past windows and vanished into the murk of the ocean.

Heavy CRT monitors hung from mounts, input cables dangling in wait of something to display. Sturdy-looking catwalks ran along the walls on the second floor with retractable metal ladders providing access. A Cray XT3 supercomputer sat on a central platform, surrounded by work benches and desks.

There were pegboards with tools, metal cabinets no doubt full of hardware and parts. Kapi could see a massive 3D printer, a laser cutter, a vacuform machine, and more. It was a well-equipped and well-funded lab that would make rapid prototyping easy, and Kapi knew several people who would have called this place a candyland.

“Hello?” he called out into the cavernous space. “I’m Dr. Bara, is this the R&D lab?”

Finally! Dr. Bara was a few minutes late for their meeting, and normally Gyro wouldn’t mind that, but because he’d spent his whole morning anticipating the man’s arrival, his tardiness was a bit irritating. Normally Gyro was very productive in the morning, but today he hadn’t accomplished much aside from browsing social media and posting on some forums he frequented. Fenton and Manny had also been left in an anticipatory limbo, meaning they weren’t getting any work done either. Now that Dr. Bara was here, they could finally get some real work done.

“Dr. Bara, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you!” Fenton said, rushing to greet the man. When Gyro rounded the corner and saw them shaking hands, he was surprised by the man’s appearance. He didn’t know what he’d expected exactly, but somehow it wasn’t this.

Dr. Bara was a short, fat man with wiry fur and a large, rectangular snout and head. He had beady little eyes and a gray moustache that seemed to defy gravity. He was probably some kind of rodent, but Gyro hesitated to guess and get it wrong. He wore a tie and a sweater-vest, had an oversized watch on one wrist, and carried both a messenger bag and a briefcase.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Dr. Bara said with a surprising baritone for such a small man. “It’s nice to get out of the house once in a while to do a consulting job. Are you Mr. Crackshell-Cabrera?”

“I am, but you can call me Fenton if you like, it rolls off the tongue a little easier.”

“Certainly. So where is this AI of yours? Is it on the Cray or do you have a separate room for it?”

“2BO stepped out to the employee cafeteria to have a snack,” Gyro said, joining the two other men. “It wanted to be fully charged up before we began. I’m Dr. Gyro Gearloose--” He began introducing himself, and Dr. Bara’s face went ashen and pale.

“Gyro Gearloose?” He repeated, clutching his briefcase to his chest like a shield. He took a few shuffling steps backwards, and Gyro sighed heavily.

Gyro had expected a negative response but had hoped it wouldn’t get in the way of today’s work. Unfortunately, it seemed Dr. Bara was familiar with the rumors about Gyro.

Well, the doctor was already here, so if they could just trap him in the lab, he could probably be coaxed into cooperating long enough to fix at least some of 2BO’s issues in exchange for his eventual freedom.

“Yes, that’s me,” Gyro said, rolling his eyes when the older scientist turned and ran for the door. “Manny! Stop him!” Gyro shouted.

The man-horse in a lab coat jumped in Dr. Bara’s path, blocking him from the airlock door. Gyro slammed his fist against the nearest big, red emergency button, and the windows and doors of the lab all sealed shut in an instant, loud alarms ringing while red warning lights began to flash.

Kapi was trapped.

The previously pleasant lab had been turned into a hellish cacophony of ringing alarms and flashing lights. He stared up at the bipedal, horse-shaped thing that was blocking his way - what was it? Some sort of surreal, eccentric robot? Kapi didn’t dare to get too close to it, as it took orders from Gearloose and looked strong.

Slowly he turned to face the infamous roboticist, Gyro Gearloose. The man may have had his prison sentence commuted, but as far as Kapi knew, he was still a dangerously unstable individual, and most considered him responsible for what had happened in Tokyolk, no matter what the politicians had decided.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, there’s just been a misunderstanding!” Fenton said, and Kapi wanted to believe him, but the sinister look on Gearloose’s face told him otherwise.

“Yes, absolutely nothing to be afraid of,” Gearloose sneered, towering over Kapi. Kapi tried to back away, bumped into the horse-thing (Was its name Manny?), and fell to the floor, landing hard on his rear end.

“Someone didn’t know--I mean, I didn’t-- Someone knows I’m here!” Kapi stumbled over his own words, any trace of eloquence erased by fear.

“Of course someone knows you’re here,” Gearloose said, his beak curling in a way that Kapi hadn’t realized beaks could curl. “You went through three levels of security.”

“That’s not what I---You can’t keep me here!” Kapi tried next, feeling increasingly panicked by the ongoing, shrieking alarms.

“Oh, I can, and I will!” Gearloose replied, and Kapi felt a chill run down his spine. “Intern, turn that blasted alarm off!” he shouted, and Kapi saw Fenton and Manny both scramble to obey. A moment later, the alarms quit ringing.

“That’s better,” Gearloose said, before turning his attention back to Kapi. “I’ve already paid your consultant’s fee, so you owe me at least eight hours of work!”

“...What?” Kapi said, his sense of what was happening shifting on its foundations. Was Gearloose not threatening him? The man was very tall, aggressive, and encroaching into Kapi’s personal space. “I, uh, perhaps there has been a misunderstanding--” he began to say, but he was interrupted by the loud clanging and hiss of the blast doors to the elevator airlock opening.

“I said turn off the alarm, not open the door!” Gearloose shouted at his interns.

“It’s not us!” Fenton replied, frantically pushing buttons on the console in front of him.

“Is everyone okay in here?” a boyish voice called from the airlock. A young Parrot, maybe ten years old, stepped through the doorway with a colorful smoothie in one hand, the straw tucked into the corner of his beak. He slurped loudly before speaking again. “I saw that the Emergency Lockdown Mode was activated, but I didn’t see any danger on the security cameras, so I performed an override. Is anyone injured? Do you require assistance, Dr. Gearloose, Mr. Fenton, Mr. Man-horse… Dr. Bara, I presume?”

The Parrot boy approached Kapi, who was struggling to stand up, and offered him a hand. Kapi accepted and was surprised by how firmly the child pulled him up to his feet. What a strong little boy!

“Did you set off the alarm because Dr. Bara fell down?” the boy asked. Gearloose had his face buried in both hands, and Kapi thought he heard a scream, muffled behind a tightly clenched beak.

“Something like that,” Fenton said.

“I don’t think that qualifies as an emergency,” the boy said. “And it’s against company regulations to activate the Emergency Lockdown Mode when there isn’t an emergency.”

“Right, I completely agree,” Fenton said. “I’m glad you unlocked things and came to check on us, Boyd. Uh, Dr. Bara? This is Boyd, the AI that I wrote to you about.”

“Hi!” Boyd smiled up at Kapi, offering his hand again, this time for a handshake. “I’m Boyd, a definitely real boy!”

Kapi was astonished. Gingerly he accepted the handshake, marveling at how life-like the hand felt in his, warm and fleshy, with feathers that had just the right sort of slickness to them.

“This is… an AI?” Kapi squinted through his glasses at Boyd, but even on close examination there was nothing to give away the boy’s true nature. “My God. I absolutely couldn’t tell. Boyd, you are quite remarkable.”

“I’m one of a kind,” Boyd said cheerfully. “My development was terminated before they could begin mass production!”

Fenton helped Kapi set himself up in a quiet office on the sub-basement level above the R&D lab. Kapi had only brought the basics: a laptop, a camera, a tablet, a paper notebook with an assortment of pens, and some cables and adapters. He hadn’t known what to expect coming here, but Boyd definitely wasn’t it.

The android was sitting in an office chair next to him, spinning it in slow circles like a child fooling around. He seemed to be enjoying himself, and watching him like that warmed something inside of Kapi, but he put that all aside because there was work to do. As happy as he seemed in the moment, according to Fenton, Boyd was a danger to himself and others, and he needed Kapi’s help.

Though he was retired, Kapi was still a scientist, and his work with AI was the passion that gave his life meaning. He had never worked to live, but lived to work, every job just a means to accumulate enough funds so he could go on until the next project came around.

He did the work because he loved it, because it was the most fulfilling thing in the world for him, because nothing else compared to the satisfaction that came with seeing an idea from his head come together in the real world.

Kapi positioned his camera next to the laptop on a small tripod, aimed it in Boyd’s general direction, and started recording.

“Today is June 24, 2019, and this is Dr. Kapi Bara speaking. I’m at McDuck Enterprises’ Headquarters, in the R&D lab,” Kapi dictated to the camera. He switched on his tablet so he could begin taking notes when Boyd began answering questions. “I’m interviewing an AI at the request of Mr. Crackshell-Cabrera and Dr. Gearloose. What’s your name?” he asked.

“Boyd,” Boyd replied, still spinning in his chair.

“Boyd. Can you spell that for me?” Kapi asked.

“Yeah! B-O-Y-D.”

“Thank you. And do you have any other designation?”

“My serial number is AI42180904192B0. My creator and Dr. Gearloose usually refer to me as 2BO.”

“Which do you prefer to be addressed as? Or is there something else you’d like me to call you?” Boyd stopped spinning in his chair and looked at Kapi intently.

“I like to be called Boyd. Thank you for asking,” Boyd said.

“Of course. I want you to be comfortable while we’re talking to each other,” Kapi said. He smiled at the boy-shaped android, and Boyd smiled back at him.

“What do you prefer to be called?” Boyd asked. “Should I keep on calling you Dr. Bara?”

“Dr. Bara is fine,” Kapi assured him. “So, I hear that you’ve been having some problems,” Kapi said next, moving the conversation on from basic introductions. “Would you be willing to tell me about them? I want to help you, but I need more information to do that.”

Boyd resumed spinning in his chair, and Kapi let him, waiting patiently for an answer.

“I glitch out sometimes,” Boyd said eventually. “Usually because I hear or see something, a word or a phrase. Sometimes my system lags, and I malfunction. Sometimes a device or a weapon will activate, and I’ll have trouble turning it off. Or my system hangs up entirely, and I’ll black out for a little bit, and when I come back online, I’ve done something...bad.”

“Bad?” Kapi prompted.

“The most common problem is that my laser eye weapons go off. That’s why I wear these glasses,” Boyd explained. “But other times, I’ll come back online, and I’ve broken something I was holding, or I’ll be in a new place, and I won’t remember how I got there. I wish it would stop.”

“Is there a discernible pattern to the things that cause your glitches?”

“No, and Dr. Gearloose has run a bunch of analysis to check, but so far he hasn’t found any patterns,” Boyd said.

“Would it be alright if I downloaded your crash reports so I can study them?” Kapi asked. Boyd stopped spinning again.

“Is it alright if I scan your laptop first?”

Although the android made the request in a casual, even cheerful way, Kapi noticed how defensive it was. Boyd was trying to disguise genuine caution as childish mimicry and playfulness. Boyd didn’t want Kapi to know that he didn’t trust him. The android was cautious, and that made sense, considering all the things Boyd had gone through in his life so far.

“Sure. I wiped it before I came here so it should be clean,” Kapi said. He picked up a data cable and offered it to Boyd, who pressed on the back of his head with one hand, opening a panel. He plugged the cable in, and Kapi watched as his laptop monitor flickered and went to the UNIX shell. Binary code scrolled down the screen rapidly as Boyd accessed files. The whole thing took less than five minutes.

“Okay, everything looks good,” Boyd said. “I’ll upload the files for you. Where would you like them?”

“Would you mind telling me more about yourself, Boyd?” Kapi asked.

“What do you want to know?” Boyd replied. He’d stopped spinning in his chair and sat with his hands in his lap now, listening attentively to Kapi.

“Everything you’re comfortable telling me. Who made you, where they made you, what they made you for, what things you’ve experienced in your life,” Kapi said.

“I’ve been active for twenty years. It’s a lot of information.”

“Yes, I know, but it’s all important if we want to make you better. Just start at the beginning, and we’ll see how far we get today.”

“Okay,” Boyd said. “I was built by Dr. Inutaro Akita for Akita International in their Advanced Robotics Lab in the Shibuya ward of Tokyolk, Japan. They began work on me in 19-” Boyd froze in the middle of his sentence, a grimace stretched across his face, and his whole body gave an alarming spasm. He sagged forward in his seat.

“Boyd?” Kapi asked, concerned. The android twitched, still slumped over.

“I was--in 1987 on July 5--15--” Boyd shuddered and sat up straight, eyes staring blankly out at nothing. “April 5th, 1994!” Another spasm shuddered through the android’s small body, and Boyd hugged himself, curling up into a tight ball. “1977, March 21st. I’ll be ten years old on April 5th, that’s my birthday!”

This was, needless to say, extremely alarming, and Kapi was just about to call for help when Boyd’s seizure seemed to end, and he went quiet.

“Boyd? Are you alright? Can you hear me?” Kapi asked.

The android slowly straightened himself out and blinked a few times. His eyes appeared focused again now.

“What happened?” Boyd asked, face creasing with concern and fear.

“You had a...fit,” Kapi said. “I’d compare it to epilepsy in a human. You were trying to tell me when you were created, and… You gave a lot of conflicting information.”

“I… Can’t remember,” Boyd said, face creasing even further. “I can’t remember when I was made. When I try, I can feel my processors heating up, and if I think about it too hard I’m going to-- Have a fit again.”

“Can I tell you the dates you told me, to see if they mean anything to you?” Kapi asked. “Or would doing that trigger another seizure?”

“I don’t know. I don’t want to try that right now.”

“That’s okay. There’s plenty of other things we can talk about. Do you need anything? Does it hurt when you have a seizure like that?”

“No, I’m-- I’m fine,” Boyd said, pulling his legs up onto the seat of the chair and hugging them to his chest. “They’re uncomfortable, but they don’t hurt.”

“Well, I’m relieved to hear that,” Kapi said. “Because that looked painful to me. How often do things like that happen?”

“More often than I’d like,” Boyd said. The android hesitated before speaking again. “Do you really think you can fix me?”

“It won’t be easy,” Kapi said. “But I’ll try.”

Dr. Bara returned to the lab every day for a week, and Gyro tried to remain patient, but it was hard. Each evening the little man smiled at Gyro when they parted ways and cheerfully said “See you tomorrow!” with no indication of when this whole ordeal would be over.

Gyro was trying to be patient. 2BO’s problems were large and complex, and it was totally reasonable that it would take awhile to resolve them, especially for someone that possessed a lesser intellect than Gyro himself. But surely a week was pushing it, right? Dr. Bara was supposed to be the best.

Be tactful, Gyro said to himself. Ask if there’s any updates! Ask if he has a prognosis yet, he practiced in his head. What came out, instead, was:

“So how long is this going to take?”

Dr. Bara looked startled by the question, whether it was from Gyro’s tone or the choice of words, but the old rodent tucked his hands against his chest and looked up at Gyro with his beady little eyes.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Er, what I meant to say was, how much longer is this whole process going to take? You’ve already been at it for a week,” Gyro said, trying to phrase the question more gently.

“Oh, Dr. Gearloose, I understand that you want this to be over and done with,” Dr. Bara said in a conciliatory tone. “But Boyd’s problems are quite comprehensive. This isn’t something you fix in an afternoon by defragmenting a hard drive. It could take years to untangle all the individual triggers and correct them--”

“Years?!” As was often the case, Gyro felt the words leave him like an explosion, no consideration to what was said, just a rush of anger and whatever came to mind first. Usually the meanest thing he could think of. “Don’t you think that’s a bit excessive? I know that these days seniors are forced to keep working well into their twilight years to make ends meet, but that doesn’t mean you should try and take advantage of your clients like this!”

“E-excuse me?” Dr. Bara said, and his shameless innocent act was really ruffling Gyro’s feathers.

“Oh, don’t ‘Excuse me’,” Gyro said sharply. “Maybe you can pull this kind of crap with brainless corporate drones who hire you to work for big companies without an ounce of understanding of what it is you do, but I am a scientist, and I can’t be bamboozled so easily!”

“Are you implying that I’m working slowly on purpose in order to inflate my consultant’s fee?” Dr. Bara asked, moustache bristling.

“Oh! Oh! I’m so glad to see you’ve caught up to the conversation. Yes, that’s exactly what I’m implying,” Gyro replied. “Did you really expect somebody to keep contracting you for two thousand a day over a period of years?”

“No, of course not!”

“Yes, of course you-- Wait, what?” Gyro came to a screeching halt. “You don’t? You didn’t?”

“Very few people would be willing to pay that kind of money to fix a buggy system,” Dr. Bara spoke in a quick, agitated manner. “A company like McDuck Enterprises might have deep enough pockets to afford it, but your higher-ups are unlikely to see the value of such work, and I’m sure they would reject the funding request. I was going to give you my assessment today, and offer to continue treating Boyd for free.”

Gyro felt his anger and frustration mixing with his embarrassment, congealing into a foul soup somewhere inside him. It left him feeling sick and bent out of shape and still just as angry. He hated being wrong, even when it was just something minor like this. How could he have known that Dr. Bara was some kind of goody-goody altruist? Most of the world wasn’t like that, and to expect such benevolence was both foolish and naive. Gyro was neither of those things.

“But then I jumped down your throat before you could get to it. Alright, I’ll concede that I was being a bit hasty,” Gyro said, pinching the bridge of his beak. “I should clarify the cause of my misplaced outrage. You’re under the impression that this is a McDuck Enterprises’ project. It’s not.” It was as close to an apology as Gyro was willing to get.

“I’m paying your consultant’s fee out of my own pocket,” Gyro explained. “And I can’t really afford to pay you for more than two or three weeks of work. I was sort of hoping we’d be able to resolve this expediently.”

“I wish you’d told me that sooner, we could have avoided this entire misunderstanding,” Dr. Bara said, “I would never have charged that much per day if I’d known! A big company like McDuck Enterprises can afford to pay people what they’re worth, but it’s different if it’s coming from a private individual. Moving forward I won’t charge anything if you’d like me to continue working with Boyd.”

“Why?” Gyro asked, a little bewildered that the old man hadn’t already left thanks to Gyro’s abrasive personality. He could understand someone putting up with that if they were getting paid to do it, but for free?

“Because I want to help Boyd,” Dr. Bara said with such tooth-ache inducing earnestness Gyro was forced to assume he was being sincere. “And his specific situation interests me.”

That rationale made more sense to Gyro. Intellectual curiosity motivated much of his own behavior, and he could imagine it being the same for other scientists.

“Fine,” Gyro said. “Anyway… Do you really think it’s going to take years to make 2BO properly functional again? You weren’t inflating your estimate?”

“Dr. Gearloose, I’d never do something like that,” Dr. Bara said with a hint of indignation. “I was being entirely frank with you. These problems might never be resolved at all. I think we can hope to see improvement, perhaps even a marked one, but the glitches will never go away entirely.”

This was not the answer Gyro wanted to hear. While it was good to know that Dr. Bara thought 2BO might improve, the prospect of having to deal with the android glitching for the rest of his life was deeply disappointing. Gyro did not like accepting failure, especially not failure of this magnitude.

“Maybe it would be for the best if we just reset 2BO, wiped its memory, and let it start over,” Gyro said. “That would have the added benefit of erasing the mistakes I made by adding that insipid ‘real boy’ program. 2BO could finally reach its full--”

“No! That’s a terrible idea!” Dr. Bara cried.

Normally Dr. Bara seemed quite timid and non-confrontational, so the sudden change was shocking to Gyro, especially when the rodent got into his personal space and started crowding him.

“You might be able to remove the glitches if you did a total wipe and replaced all of his chemical memory fluid, but doing that would destroy the person he is right now, forever! You’d kill Boyd!” Dr. Bara said.

“You can’t kill something that isn’t alive, Dr. Bara!” Gyro snapped. “2BO is a machine, 2BO isn’t alive, 2BO isn’t a person! It’s a clever machine that has been programmed to act like a human child, but that’s all it is: programming!”

“Are we all not just programming? Ours is accidental, formed by all the things we experience, created by the chaos that is organic life. Theirs is planned, orderly, but also grown through organic systems like encoding DNA and crystal nucleation and aggregation,” Dr. Bara said, staring Gyro in the eyes in a way that made him distinctly uncomfortable.

“Flesh or metal, we’re all composed of electricity and chemicals,” Dr. Bara continued. “Are your emotions more valid than Boyd’s just because they’re triggered by hormones? How do you make the distinction? What scientific criteria do you use to determine the distinction? Boyd--”

“It’s name is 2BO, stop calling it Boyd!” Gyro shouted. The words left him in an angry gust that left him feeling hollowed out afterwards. He took a deep breath and a step away from Dr. Bara, uncomfortable with their closeness.

“...As I was saying, 2BO is a machine,” Gyro said. “I helped program it, I know what I built, and I know that it’s only operating within the parameters that I set down. It can’t be alive, it’s just… a very convincing simulation. So convincing that 2BO itself thinks it’s alive. So convincing that you think it’s alive.”

Dr. Bara didn’t look persuaded, and Gyro was frustrated by this sudden display of stubbornness. Why couldn’t the man continue to be easily cowed and deferential like before?

“I’ve been interviewing and testing Boyd all week, and I’m certain that you are wrong. I had my misgivings at first, of course. I wanted to be sure that I wasn’t dealing with a cleverly programmed mimic. I’ll give you a copy of all the data I’ve collected, and you can review it and see if you still believe that Boyd isn’t alive. You may have programmed and built a machine, but he’s been on his own for two decades, learning and growing. You built him to learn, didn’t you? He’s become more than what he started as. I’d bet my whole reputation on that.”

Gyro felt his feathers sticking up along his neck as his anger simmered. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Fine, fine, I’ll look over your data this weekend, and I’ll talk to 2BO about it and let you know how I want to proceed next week.”

“You shouldn’t mention that you were thinking of erasing his memory,” Dr. Bara said sternly. “Not even in passing. It could do irreparable harm to your relationship.”

“2BO, we need to talk,” Gyro said, sitting down on the edge of his bed. 2BO looked up from the tablet he was reading and smiled.

“What is it, Dr. Gearloose?” 2BO asked.

“It’s about your glitching and about your treatment with Dr. Bara.”

“I like Dr. Bara,” 2BO said. “He really listens to me when I talk.”

“He’s a competent scientist, I suppose,” Gyro said, even though he wasn’t sure if he really believed that. He didn’t want to say anything negative about Dr. Bara now that 2BO had indicated that it liked the man.

“Yeah! He’s smart, and he’s nice to me, and he knows a lot about computer science--”

He can’t fix you, Gyro thought bitterly. No matter how nice he is, he can’t help you. How was he going to tell 2BO that?

“Sometimes he asks me really interesting questions about things I never thought about before--”

“Yeah?” Gyro said absently.

“And it was really fun when he asked me to do some drawings. He said they were good, even though I’ve never drawn anything--”

“2BO, Dr. Bara told me today that your glitching problem might be unfixable,” Gyro said, cutting the android off sharply. “He thinks we can make it better, but that there’s no way to truly repair the damage.”

“Oh,” 2BO said, enthusiasm vanishing instantly. “So… I’ll always be this way?”

You’ll always be broken, Gyro thought, and wondered if being broken would bother an intelligent machine or if being broken was something that only humans cared about.

“More or less. We do have another option though.”

“What’s that?” 2BO asked.

“We could reset you,” Gyro said. “Erase all of your memory and replace everything that can’t be fully erased. You could start over! You wouldn’t have to worry about glitching anymore or remembering things that… Upset you.”

2BO stared at Gyro and didn’t respond to what he had said at all. Gyro wasn’t even sure if Boyd had heard him.

“Doesn’t that sound like a good idea?” Gyro asked, trying to fill the silence and coax 2BO into responding and agreeing with him. “Wouldn’t that be better than having to worry about getting triggered and hurting someone?”

Boyd didn’t answer him.

“It would be better, right?” Gyro continued. “You could forget all about the things I taught you and the special programming I gave you, you could get rid of any other insidious hidden programs Dr. Akita left behind, you’d be… Safe, and you could move on and--”

“I wouldn’t know the things I know now,” 2BO said suddenly, interrupting Gyro’s rambling attempts to cajole him. “I wouldn’t remember Mr. Fenton, or Mr. Manny, or my friends in the Junior Woodchucks, or Doofus or Mr. and Mrs. Drake...I wouldn’t remember Huey. I’d forget everything about all of them.”

“You could make new memories!” Gyro said, trying to sound enthusiastic. “Would that be so bad? You’ve only known most of those people for a couple of months!”

“I’ve known you longer than that,” 2BO said. “I’d forget you.”

“We can start over too,” Gyro said. “We could become friends again!”

“It wouldn’t be the same,” 2BO said, getting to its feet, retrieving its tablet from the floor, and walking away. “You’re different now.”

“2BO, where are you going?” Gyro demanded, unnerved and unsettled by the shift from 2BO’s usual childish demeanor to something that seemed flat and emotionless in comparison.

“To my closet,” 2BO replied. “Goodnight, Dr. Gearloose.”

“Uh...Goodnight,” Gyro said, suddenly unsure if he’d be able to sleep at all now.

NEXT CHAPTER:  THIS CONVERSATION CAN SERVE NO FURTHER PURPOSE, GOODBYE! Summary: Gyro searches all over Duckburg and can’t find Boyd anywhere. After exhausting all other options Gyro contacts Dr. Bara and explains that he did the one thing Dr. Bara told him not to do: tell Boyd that he wanted to erase the robot’s memory. Boyd enjoys a sunset.

[newstfionline]

Headlines: Friday, September 25, 2020

Tea prices (WSJ) The price of wholesale tea is up 50 percent since March, hitting $3.16 per kilogram, up from $2.13 per kilogram back in March. We’re still not at the $3.29 per kilogram demanded in October 2017, but the price hike is showing little sign of stopping. Every day 3.7 billion cups of tea are consumed, with half the U.S. population consuming tea daily, most of whom like it iced. Tea production is down in major producers like Sri Lanka and India.

California Plans to Ban Sales of New Gas-Powered Cars in 15 Years (NYT) California plans to ban the sale of new gasoline-powered cars statewide by 2035, Gov. Gavin Newsom said Wednesday, in a sweeping move aimed at accelerating the state’s efforts to combat global warming amid a deadly and record-breaking wildfire season. In an executive order, Governor Newsom directed California’s regulators to develop a plan that would require automakers to sell steadily more zero-emissions passenger vehicles in the state, such as battery-powered or hydrogen-powered cars and pickup trucks, until they make up 100 percent of new auto sales in just 15 years. Ramping up sales of emissions-free vehicles in California will be an enormous challenge over a relatively short period of time, experts said. Last year, only 8 percent of the nearly two million passenger vehicles sold statewide were battery-electric or plug-in hybrid vehicles. The order would affect only new-vehicle sales, the governor’s office said. It would not prevent Californians from owning cars with internal combustion engines past 2035 or selling them on the used-vehicle market.

Venezuela’s broken oil industry is spewing crude into the Caribbean Sea (Washington Post) The sun had risen over the Caribbean Sea when Frank González spotted “the stain”—an oil slick on the water that stretched for miles. “The sea looked like butter, because of the thickness of the water,” said González, a fisherman who saw the spill this month while working off the coast of Venezuela’s Falcón state. “It was painful to see.” Venezuela’s once powerful oil industry is literally falling apart, with years of mismanagement, corruption, falling prices and a U.S. embargo imposed last year bringing aging infrastructure to the brink of collapse. As the government scrambles to repair and restart its fuel-processing capacity, analysts are warning that ruptured pipelines, rusting tankers and rickety refineries are contributing to a mounting ecological disaster in this failing socialist state. Oil workers say the gushing crude soiling the coast of Falcón state this month came from a cracked underwater pipeline linked to attempts to restart fuel production at the aging Cardón refinery. Not far from the oil slick, fishermen say, is a jetting geyser of natural gas from a second broken pipeline.

France tightens virus measures, unveils new ‘danger zones’ map (Reuters) France’s health minister unveiled a map of coronavirus “danger zones” around the country on Wednesday and gave the hardest-hit local authorities, including that of Marseille, days to tighten restrictions or risk having a state of health emergency declared there. Olivier Veran told a news conference the country would be divided into zones by alert level with Marseille, the second-largest city, and the French Caribbean island of Guadeloupe for now the only two areas put on the “maximum” alert level. Like other European countries where the infection rate has soared in the past month, France has been gradually tightening limits on public and private gatherings locally, hoping it will be enough to contain the disease and avoid a second national lockdown. Among other measures, there will be a ban on public gatherings of more than 10 people and, in “maximum” alert level areas like Marseille, bars and restaurants will be closed from Saturday.

Protests Reignite After News of Secret Belarus Inauguration (Foreign Policy) Longtime Belarusian President Aleksandr Lukashenko was sworn in to extend his 26-year rule at a secret ceremony in Minsk on Wednesday, emphasizing the embattled leader’s shrinking authority and increasingly precarious hold on power. No prior announcement was made regarding the ceremony, prompting thousands of protesters to flood the streets of Minsk to rally against Lukashenko once the news broke. Opposition leaders, who have put immense pressure on Lukashenko since he claimed victory in a landslide on Aug. 9 amid widespread accusations of voter fraud, called the inaugural ceremony a “thieves’ meeting” and a “farce.” In a statement, a spokesperson of the U.S. State Department said that “the United States cannot consider [Lukashenko] the legitimately elected leader of Belarus.” The European Union has already said it doesn’t recognize Lukashenko as president.

In India, engineers and MBAs are turning to manual labor to survive the economic crash (Washington Post) On a recent muggy afternoon in southern India, Earappa Bawge hacked at the ground with a pickax, his white shirt pasted to his back. Each dull thud reminded him of how far his hopes had fallen. Just months ago, the 27-year-old engineer was poring over project files in an air-conditioned room at a factory hundreds of miles away. The job was a ticket out of rural poverty for Bawge’s entire family, who had sacrificed for years so he could complete his studies. Now he was back in the village where he was born, propelled by a wave of economic destruction rolling across India during the pandemic. To survive, Bawge began digging ditches under a public works program. Alongside him were a former bank employee, a veterinarian and three MBA students. At the end of the day, each received $3.70. “If I don’t work, we don’t get to eat,” said Bawge, flicking beads of sweat from his brow. “Hunger trumps any aspiration.” As India’s economy reels in the aftermath of one of the world’s strictest lockdowns, a rural employment program has emerged as a lifeline for some of the tens of millions left jobless. The government program—which aims to guarantee 100 days of unskilled work in rural areas—was intended to combat poverty and reduce the volatility of agricultural wages. Now it is a potent symbol of how the middle-class dreams of millions of Indians are unraveling.

China to let in more foreigners as virus recedes (AP) Foreigners holding certain types of visas and residence permits will be permitted to return to China starting next week as the threat of the coronavirus continues to recede. The new regulation lifts a monthslong blanket suspension covering most foreigners apart from diplomats and those in special circumstances. Beginning Monday, foreign nationals holding valid Chinese visas and residence permits for work, personal matters and family reunions will be permitted to enter China without needing to apply for new visas, according to the regulation. Those whose permits have expired can reapply. Returnees must undergo two weeks of quarantine and follow other anti-epidemic measures, the regulation said.

Xinjiang crackdown continues (The Guardian) China has built nearly 400 internment camps in Xinjiang region, with construction on dozens continuing over the last two years, even as Chinese authorities said their “re-education” system was winding down, an Australian think tank has found. The network of camps in China’s far west, used to detain Uighurs and people from other Muslim minorities, include 14 that are still under construction, according to the latest satellite imaging obtained by the Australian Strategic Policy Institute. In total ASPI identified 380 detention centers established across the region since 2017, ranging from lowest security re-education camps to fortified prisons.

Grand Theft Ayatollah (Foreign Policy) Iran’s elite Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps is investing in a new video game in which Iranian paramilitaries rescue George Floyd from U.S. police, according to Khosro Kalbasi, a reporter for Iran’s independent Financial Tribune. It’s not the first time Middle Eastern powers have used video games and cartoons to make foreign-policy commentary: In 2018, a pro-Saudi group produced an animated video depicting Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman commanding a successful invasion of Iran.

Lebanon asks world’s help ‘trying to rise from its rubble’ (AP) Facing an economic meltdown and other crises, Lebanon’s president on Wednesday asked for the world’s help to rebuild the capital’s main port and neighborhoods that were blown away in last month’s catastrophic explosion. President Michel Aoun made the plea in a prerecorded speech to the U.N. General Assembly’s virtual summit, telling world leaders that Lebanon’s many challenges are posing an unprecedented threat to its very existence. Most urgently, the country needs the international community’s support to rebuild its economy and its destroyed port. Aoun suggested breaking up the damaged parts of the city into separate areas and so that countries that wish to help can each commit to rebuilding one. Earlier Wednesday, U.N. Secretary-General Antonio Guterres called for swift formation of a government to be followed by tangible steps to implement economic, social and political reforms. Lebanon’s government resigned under pressure in the wake of the port explosion, and Prime Minister-designate Mustapha Adib has been unable to form a new government amid a political impasse over which faction gets to have the Finance Ministry, as well as other disputes. “Without such action, the country’s ability to recover and rebuild will be jeopardized, adding to the turmoil and hardship of the Lebanese people,” Guterres added.

Israel’s Netanyahu brings his dirty laundry to Washington. Literally. (Washington Post) Most politicians go to great lengths to conceal their dirty laundry. And then there’s Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. Over the years, the Israeli leader has developed a reputation among the staff at the U.S. president’s guesthouse for bringing special cargo on his trips to Washington: bags and suitcases full of dirty laundry, according to U.S. officials familiar with the matter. The clothes are cleaned for the prime minister free of charge by the U.S. staff, a perk that is available to all foreign leaders but sparingly taken advantage of given the short stays of busy heads of state. “The Netanyahus are the only ones who bring actual suitcases of dirty laundry for us to clean,” said one U.S. official, who like others spoke on the condition of anonymity to discuss the details of a foreign leader’s visits. “After multiple trips, it became clear this was intentional.” Israeli officials denied that Netanyahu overuses his American hosts’ laundry services, calling the allegations “absurd,” but they acknowledged that he has been the target of laundry-related accusations in the past. In 2016, Netanyahu sued his own office and Israel’s attorney general in an effort to prevent the release of his laundry bills under the country’s freedom of information act. The relatively minor accusation joins a longer list of corruption allegations that have threatened the 70-year-old leader’s hold on power and triggered protests in Israel this month.

Australian offers free coffee, chat from his kitchen window (AP) It all started when Rick Everett walked out of his home in Sydney and put up a sign on his kitchen window that read: “Free coffee to combat the virus.” It was March, and the Australian acrobat had lost his job during the coronavirus pandemic. With more free time, he felt he could help out others in need. And he knew how to bake and cook after managing a chocolate and coffee shop and a pizza restaurant. When he started, he said the window would be open whenever he was home. He stressed that it wasn’t a coffee shop business; he just wanted to do something nice and meet his neighbors for a friendly chat during a difficult time. “Think of it as popping over to your mates for a coffee only it is a friend you have not met yet,” he wrote on a sign. “I am not selling anything. This is a gift and all it will cost you is a smile.” Soon his neighbors began to stop by, bringing him everything from cakes and loaves of bread to a six-pack of beer. Strangers began to recognize him on the street and wave hello. “It’s like I live in a small town again, and it’s really beautiful,” he said. “And what’s even more beautiful is people ring my coffee bell just to talk,” he said. “They don’t even want a coffee! They don’t want to take anything from me, but they’re most happy to have a conversation with me, which is really nice.”

[anonymoustalks]

It has a Confederate soldier memorial and statue out in front I'm shocked they didn't make them take it down

(6-18-20) You both like Politics.

Stranger: Hey

You: hi

Stranger: What's up

You: mhm sleepy mainly

You: you?

Stranger: Nice

Stranger: Just showered now I'm sitting here

You: mhm anything you care a lot about?

Stranger: Social issues

You: like?

Stranger: Hmm abortion, guns, religion, immigration

Stranger: Transgender people

You: okay

Stranger: You?

You: mhm I'm abstract

You: I'm kind of a hippie haha

Stranger: Oh haha

Stranger: I'm conservative

You: but I believe in being nice

You: that's fine

Stranger: Haha good

You: people have different beliefs

Stranger: That's fair

You: where are you from?

Stranger: US

You: one of the more liberal states or conservative?

Stranger: South East

Stranger: Conservative haha

You: oh it's late

Stranger: Oh yeah 2 am

You: I'm northeast haha

Stranger: Lol

You: what kind of things do you like the most?

Stranger: Like in general?

You: sure or big picture

Stranger: Food, guns, movies, video games

You: mhm guns for entertainment?

Stranger: Not sure what else

You: like shooting range?

Stranger: Yeah like that

You: mhm I've never been

Stranger: It's fun

Stranger: I'd like to go camping sometime

Stranger: I never have

You: really? you should

Stranger: Yeah I really should

You: does anyone in your family do much camping?

Stranger: Nah nobody

You: aww haha

Stranger: Haha

You: my family doesn't either, but I've gone a few times with friends

Stranger: That's good

Stranger: How old are you

You: 26 you?

Stranger: 20

You: mhm how is college this year?

Stranger: Well schools were totally shut down for a while haha

You: is yours opening in the fall?

Stranger: Yeah I'm pretty sure if nothing changes

You: I guess it's nice to go back

Stranger: You think we will go back into lockdown if the virus gets worse

You: idk, I think it's hard to say

Stranger: I don't think my state will

You: I think they might if the hospitals get overhwhelmed

You: otherwise I think many states will care more about the economy

You: even if there are infections

Stranger: Right bye grandma

Stranger: We gotta fix the economy

Stranger: Haha

You: it's hard to make value decisions...

Stranger: Yeah it really is

You: I guess that's politics in a sense

You: What do you think? family or economy lol?

Stranger: I have many older family members who the virus could easily mess up

Stranger: Or kill

You: right

Stranger: My grandmother is 89

You: mhm

You: so for you, you would prefer it if the lockdown stayed?

Stranger: Hmmm it's really hard to say

You: mhm

Stranger: Cause it really is wrecking the economy staying in lockdown

You: mhm

Stranger: But the risk is much higher now

You: yeah, I don't really envy the people who have to make that choice

Stranger: Pray and hope for the best basically haha

You: I guess that's for the best I guess

Stranger: Right

You: are you very religious?

Stranger: I wouldn't say very

Stranger: I don't go to church and I'm not going start now

You: ah, why not?

Stranger: But I do believe in God and all that

Stranger: Well you know the virus I meant during the virus time

You: oh yeah haha

Stranger: Sorry haha

You: sorry lol

Stranger: But maybe one day I will

You: for some reason I read that as you never went to church?

Stranger: Oh I never have I mean I've went like a long time ago

You: oh okay

Stranger: When I was still a kid basically

You: does your family still go or were they not so religious?

Stranger: They weren't so religious yeah

You: mhm kay

Stranger: They are religious but they just don't like church for whatever reason

Stranger: I guess mom has hangovers Sunday morning lmao

You: ohh

Stranger: I'm kidding but she does drink

You: yeah

You: although I can kind of vaguely relate to not wanting to go

You: I don't like to go to things in groups

Stranger: Well church at least down here has a lot of uppity bastards

You: I feel like a person's relationship with God is also a very personal thing

You: uppity?

Stranger: That treat church as like this thing like for connections

You: oh...

You: that's not cool

Stranger: Instead of going for religion

Stranger: Uppity like wealthy and snobby

You: ahh okay

Stranger: You know those types?

You: yeah, I feel very uncomfortable

You: my family also immigrated so there's a cultural difference for me too

Stranger: Where they come from

You: china ^^

Stranger: So you're Chinese?

You: yup, ethnically

Stranger: Cool

Stranger: Haha

Stranger: I'm white

You: there are not many asians on the east coast lol

Stranger: They are more west coast

Stranger: Haha

You: yep

You: I was like the only one in my high school

Stranger: Lol

You: yeah it can be awkward at times

Stranger: My highschool had no Chinese people

Stranger: We had like 1 Indian

Stranger: It was mostly just white people haha and some blacks

You: mhm

You: it's the same for us except not many blacks either

You: New England is very white

You: lol

Stranger: Haha

Stranger: We only have that big black population due to them staying after slavery

Stranger: Without the black people this place would be like all white

You: mhm

Stranger: Hmm how many gay people did it have?

You: up here?

Stranger: Yeah

You: we are pretty liberal so we had a couple

Stranger: We had like one gay one and one bisexual

Stranger: And maybe one trans but I don't know

You: mhm I think we had more lgbt people than that

You: how big was your high school?

Stranger: Pretty small compared to a typical high school

Stranger: I mean we only had 1 floor

Stranger: No upstairs

You: ahh that's pretty small

Stranger: You actually had to leave and go to the other high school in the county if you wanted certain classes

You: did you grow up in a rural area or something?

Stranger: Oh yeah lol it's all woods around the highschool

Stranger: And around my house

You: ahh kay

Stranger: Pretty cool I always thought

Stranger: But lonely too

You: yeah nature is nice

Stranger: Cause unless you go out of town there is really nothing to do for young people

You: right

You: were you always involved in politics?

Stranger: We have a movie theater that some old man owns and he plays new movies for like $5

Stranger: That's like it haha

You: oh those kind of small places are cool, at least I think so

You: I like small random bookstores and stuff

Stranger: I hope he isn't closed I mean I haven't checked

Stranger: I hope Coronavirus didn't kill his business

Stranger: Oh yeah we have lots of little random stores

You: mhm yeah...

Stranger: We have a little historical building downtown that uses to be the courthouse

Stranger: It has a Confederate soldier memorial and statue out in front I'm shocked they didn't make them take it down

You: is your local county/town/city more conservative or liberal would you say?

You: compared to your overall state?

Stranger: Very conservative socially

Stranger: Even the democrats are socially conservative they just are left money wise

You: mhm

Stranger: So thats probably why haha

You: yeah I guess that makes sense

Stranger: That was there when the building was a actual court house

Stranger: So a black guy going to court sees that lol

You: yeah I wonder what they would feel

Stranger: I broke the law in the wrong neighborhood

You: mhm I feel like it's a kind of scary thought

Stranger: Exactly it probably makes you think is the judge or jury racist

You: yeah

Stranger: The sheriff is like related to me

You: ohh really?

Stranger: Distant family

Stranger: Yeah

You: that's cool

You: is it like a small town family thing where all the families know each other?

Stranger: Lol yes everyone figures out everyone's business

You: oh lol

You: my town growing up had a significant catholic community, and they were really tightly knit

You: like some of the teachers, students, all went to same church

Stranger: Yeah it's pretty close knit here

Stranger: This place is weird

Stranger: It's like one county with three little small towns that are very close

Stranger: That almost overlap

You: huh

Stranger: Haha

Stranger: Isn't that great?

You: I mean it's interesting I guess

You: I wonder how things turned out that way

Stranger: Like you could drive 5 or 10 minutes and be in the other town

Stranger: And 15 to the other

You: I'm surprised that like with a school your size, you don't have something like a regional high school or something

Stranger: The biggest town in the county has a highschool

You: ahh

Stranger: And out in the boonies between the other two was mine

You: right

Stranger: Haha it's just interested

Stranger: Interesting

You: yeah it's interesting for me to hear

You: do you ever get new people moving into your town in stuff?

You: or is it pretty much always the same families?

Stranger: And if you shoot a gun in the yard the cops don't come haha

Stranger: I've had a neighbor do that

You: is your area mostly safe?

Stranger: Oh yeah

Stranger: My brother had a guy try to break in once

Stranger: But he scared him off

You: mhm

Stranger: Just the same families

Stranger: Rarely you'll get like a immigrant family coming

You: yeah we have a lot of moving up here

You: not necessarily immigrants, but people moving in and out of state

You: that kind of thing

Stranger: Oh I see

Stranger: You in a big city?

You: no, suburb, maybe like 45 minutes out?

Stranger: Oh I see

You: yeah, but I think a lot of people move here when they get a job somewhere

You: I guess they move out if they follow their career elsewhere

Stranger: We move out of town when we want a good job haha

You: oh lol haha

Stranger: Unless you do a store, cop job, or military

You: mhm

You: you have a military base nearby or something?

Stranger: We do have a small community college

Stranger: Oh yeah we have a national guard Armory

Stranger: You can be there I think

You: mhm

You: yeah it's cool to hear about the kind of place you grew up

You: and sort of think about how that affects politics on the bigger map

Stranger: Oh yeah lol

Stranger: That's a little about the south

You: a little about the south?

Stranger: Yeah my southern state

You: oh okay

Stranger: Haha

You: is the older generation in your area more conservative than the younger folk?

You: or not really?

Stranger: Oh definitely

You: hmm you sounded like you were pro-lgbt but not trans, if I'm guessing your position correctly?

Stranger: Yeah I don't like trans people

Stranger: But some gays are fine

You: only some? ^^

Stranger: Haha

Stranger: The ones that are normal people are fine

You: ah okay

Stranger: Like I don't like the really feminine ones or activist

Stranger: I'm bi

You: mhmm

You: okay that's cool

Stranger: Thanks

You: I'm surprised because I would have thought you would have been more supporting of other lgbt people

Stranger: Ohhh

Stranger: I guess it's my upbringing

You: you don't like the activists because... they stand out too much?

You: or...?

Stranger: Right

You: too liberal?

Stranger: I don't like the obviously gay guys

You: mhm

Stranger: And that too

You: are you out to your family?

Stranger: No

Stranger: Not yet

You: do you think you will some day?

Stranger: At some point maybe

You: mhm I get it

Stranger: But only if I'm with a guy

You: what about with your friends?

Stranger: Otherwise I'm not going to risk them having a bad reaction

You: yeah it makes sense

Stranger: I'll probably tell friends

You: mhm but you haven't?

Stranger: No just a online friend

You: aww that's sweet though ^^

You: I think it's good to be out to someone

Stranger: He's gay so he gets it

You: yeah

You: I'm happy for you

Stranger: He likes me but he lives very far off

You: aww yeah distance is a problem

Stranger: He's a British guy that wants to come move here haha

You: oh haha

You: I feel like that must mess with your timezones lol

Stranger: Lol hes conservative and likes Trump

Stranger: That's funny for a gay British person

You: yeah but hey, your sexuality doesn't define you

You: you can be conservative, liberal, whatever

Stranger: Yeah he's always sleeping when I get up

Stranger: Haha

Stranger: Or something like that

You: mhm do you like him?

Stranger: Oh yeah I do

Stranger: He's great

You: oh that's great ^^

Stranger: Haha you like hearing about this don't you

You: yeah I love hearing about this

You: it makes me smile haha

You: it's really sweet, seriously

Stranger: Maybe it is haha

You: mhm I'm happy for people when they find things for themselves

Stranger: Me too

Stranger: do you like someone?

You: yup

Stranger: Who?

Stranger: Guy or girl

You: mhm... I have a complicated situation

Stranger: Ohhh

You: oh? xD

Stranger: Are you a guy or girl?

You: well first of all, what do you think?

Stranger: I can't tell haha

You: lol

You: I guess that makes me happy

Stranger: Which are you?

You: mhm you can think of me as a guy I guess

Stranger: You trans?

You: I'm kind of have an androgynous perception of myself

Stranger: Ohhh

Stranger: I like to think of myself as masculine and all that

You: technically it's nonbinary, but most conservative people don't take that very seriously

Stranger: So you're non binary?

You: I'm not really that much of a labels person

Stranger: I don't know about that one

You: but yeah, if you want to put me in a group, that would be the most accurate description

Stranger: I know what it is but I don't know how that works

You: oh what I mean by "labels" is that I don't think the terms are important

Stranger: Oh I see

You: like bi vs pan vs whichever other term

Stranger: I don't like pan

Stranger: To me it's no different than bi

You: mhm

You: to me they're very close to interchangeable

You: but for some reason people have a preference for which term they like

Stranger: I see

Stranger: Bi makes more sense to me

You: mhm

Stranger: Bi means 2 and you like both sexes

You: yup

Stranger: Haha

Stranger: And do you like a guy or girl?

You: idk there's people who spend too much time thinking about this and come up with terms for a lot of things

You: uh, I lean towards liking guys, and a little bit less towards girls

Stranger: Ohhh

Stranger: You like a guy now?

You: nope I'm with a girl now

Stranger: Ohhh

Stranger: I gotcha

You: like if I were to give it numbers, like usually I'm more into guys like 80% of the time, and girls like 20%

Stranger: That's how I am

You: mhm awesome lol

Stranger: Lol

Stranger: It was great talking to you but I should go I think

You: okay, it was great talking!

Stranger: Goodnight

You: night

Stranger has disconnected.

[manasastuff-blog]

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[multipleservicelisting]

Why a US gang sailed 20,000 km to break six Irishmen out of an Australian prison

Perth, Australia (CNN) — It all began with a letter sent from inside an Australian “tomb,” a document so convincing that it prompted a US gang to sail some 20,000 kilometers (12,427 miles) to execute what could arguably be considered one of the most outrageous prison escapes in Australian history.

The year was 1876. Using a series of codes and disguises, the bold group snuck into Western Australia to free six Irish political prisoners.

Now, 145 years later, a new generation of Australians is learning about this prison break thanks to WA Museum Boola Bardip.

The museum, which reopened in November 2020, was closed for four years for redevelopment. Featuring eight new galleries, it’s located on the same site it has occupied since 1891, when it opened as a geological museum in the Old Perth Gaol.

Among the many displays on offer is a modern look at the Catalpa rescue — named for the ship they journeyed to freedom on.

Featuring images of the prison they escaped from and the ship, the WA Museum Boola Bardip’s new Catalpa display is part of the Reflections Gallery — a permanent exhibit that examines the way “unique experiences and perspectives have shaped our state’s identity and sense of place.”

The display explains how the escape created headlines around the world and inspired multiple folk songs, complimenting several tourist sites already available for visitors who want to follow the trail of the prisoners’ wild journey.

Jailed for crimes of rebellion

In a state where 10% of the population has Irish ancestry, the Catalpa escape remains a stirring tale of cunning, courage and revolt.

In the 1860s, many Fenians — an Irish nationalist movement with strong membership in the US that aimed to end the British occupation of Ireland — were arrested by the British and jailed for crimes of rebellion, explains Irish-Australian writer Peter Murphy, author of the book “Fenian Fear.”

The 62 Fenians sent to Western Australia were locked away in the infamous, British-run Fremantle Prison, located in the port of Fremantle in what’s now the Perth metropolitan area. Built in the 1850s, this hulking stone jail — Western Australia’s only World Heritage listed building — is now one of Perth’s top tourist attractions, with its guided tours covering the story of the Catalpa.

Murphy explains that one of those 62 prisoners managed to escape Fremantle Prison in 1869: John Boyle O’Reilly, a famous Irish activist who later became key to the Catalpa mission.

The new WA Museum Boola Bardip features eight new galleries, one of which includes an exhibit dedicated to the Catalpa escape.

Paul R. Kane/Getty Images AsiaPac/Getty Images

Prior to O’Reilly, no other prisoner had ever managed to escape from Fremantle Prison. He wouldn’t be the last.

The Catalpa escape took root when an Irishman living in New York, John Devoy, heard a “voice from the tomb” in 1874. This was the eerie wording that Fenian James Wilson used to describe his imprisonment in a letter to Devoy, begging for help to escape Fremantle Prison.

Aided by an Irish priest, the Fenians were able to smuggle such letters out of the jail to distant and free members of their brotherhood. However, Devoy was the only one who answered their desperate call.

He bought the Catalpa ship in the US state of Massachusetts and then, to create a cover story for his long trip to Western Australia, converted it into a whaling vessel, before setting sail for Perth with a small crew.

The captain of the Catalpa was an American, George Smith Anthony, who was said to be sympathetic to the Fenian cause.

Escaping from prison? That was the easy part

Realizing they couldn’t just cruise into Australia and snatch their imprisoned brothers, the rescue crew concocted a clever plot. Devoy sought advice from O’Reilly, hoping to exploit the experience of his own escape from Perth.

“Being a journalist, it was O’Reilly’s keen observation of the Western Australia coastline, his knowledge of the (state’s) penal system, and layout of Fremantle town (including its prison), that would make him the obvious choice to be involved in the rescue,” says author Murphy.

Devoy sent two Fenians to Perth ahead of the Catalpa. These men — Thomas Desmond and John Breslin — were tasked with gathering on-the-ground intelligence. They posed as wealthy businessmen, made local contacts, and studied Fremantle Prison for gaps in its security.

Breslin made repeated visits to the prison, then known as the Convict Establishment, under the guise of seeking convict labor. His last visit came after he received a coded telegram from the Catalpa’s captain, which revealed the date the ship would arrive in Perth.

While inside the jail, Breslin managed to get word of the escape plan to the imprisoned Fenians. The key message was that, on April 17, each man had to get themselves into a work gang — convict labor groups that did jobs outside the prison walls.

When that day arrived, everything was in place. The telegraph line between Fremantle and Perth had been cut so prison staff would be slowed in alerting authorities. Breslin waited at a meeting spot, where he had weapons, horses and two wagons.

Off the Rockingham coast, the Catalpa and a smaller rescue vessel stood by.

View of the main cell block and parade ground at Fremantle Prison.

Western Australia Tourism

The six Fenian prisoners managed to break free from their gangs and rush to the rendezvous location. Soon, Breslin saw them bolting towards him. They hopped into the wagons and galloped down the coast to Rockingham beach. There, on the sand, the Catalpa’s captain loaded them into a small boat and headed for the whaling ship.

The escape went remarkably smoothly. The Fenians could have been forgiven for celebrating. But a storm was stirring, both figuratively and literally. Just as authorities were learning of the escape, the Indian Ocean became rough and the prisoners got lost before they could reach the Catalpa.

They spent a night adrift at sea, and were lucky to avoid the detection of police boats scouring Perth’s coastline. The following day, the escapees finally found the Catalpa and set sail for freedom.

Soon, however, they were spotted in international waters by a British ship loaded with colonial guards and armed with a cannon. The guards fired and the Fenians returned volley as explosions illuminated the ocean waters near Fremantle.

Perhaps recognizing his crew was outgunned, the Catalpa’s American captain hatched a clever plan. He raised a United States flag on the ships’s mast and, according to an exhibit in Canberra’s National Museum of Australia, bellowed these words: “That’s the American flag. I am on the high seas, my flag protects me. If you fire on this ship, you fire on the American flag.”

The ploy evidently worked. The colonial guards had been advised to avoid creating a scandal in international waters and retreated. Cheering in jubilation, the Fenians and their saviors cruised into the distance, bound for the US. They arrived in New York to a raucous welcome from members of the city’s huge Irish community.

Author Murphy says the significance of this escape extended beyond its daring and intrigue. It was a rousing example of Irish rebellion against the British, who had subjugated the Irish for centuries.

“The Catalpa was one of the few success stories where Irish nationalists could claim to have been victorious, considering previous attempts to undermine the Crown had failed miserably due to informers,” says Murphy.

Remembering Australia’s daring ‘wild geese’

The Catalpa Memorial was erected in 2006.

Ronan O’Connell/CNN

In the years thereafter, this Fenian triumph became an inspiration to many Irishmen who remained in Western Australia.

Their voices would boom through local pubs as they sang the proud story of the Catalpa: “A noble whale ship and commander, called the Catalpa they say, came out to Western Australia, and took six poor Fenians away. So come all you screw warders and gaolers, remember Perth Regatta Day, take care of the rest of your Fenians, or the Yankees will steal them away.”

Just be careful singing it today. According to the display at the new WA Museum Boola Bardip, “the Ballad of the Catalpa so annoyed police that it was officially banned in Western Australia and remains banned today.”

In addition to the new museum and historic Fremantle Prison, travelers can visit the Catalpa Memorial, located at the site of the shore they escaped from in Perth.

The statue, on Perth’s Rockingham Beach, was erected in 2006. It features a frozen flock of wild geese, their wings outstretched as they rise towards the freedom of the sky.

“Wild geese” was the fond name given to Irish soldiers who served in foreign armies in the 17th and 18th centuries. It later became a common term for the millions of Irish migrants scattered across the globe.

Engraved into the base of that stone statue are images of the six Fenians rescued by the Catalpa ship — James Wilson, Martin Hogan, Robert Cranston, Thomas Darragh, Michael Harrington and Thomas Hassett.

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[indiavacancyjob]

West Bengal Police Recruitment 2020 - FreeJobAlert

West Bengal Police Recruitment 2020 139 SI, ASI & Constable Posts 

🇮🇳 👉 Government Job Vacancy 👈 🇮🇳

Are you looking for a government job? West Bengal Police Recruitment Board has brought you the golden opportunity of the SI, ASI & Constable post. If you are interested, please read the information below regarding the West Bengal Police Recruitment Board rules carefully.

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Name Of the Organization West Bengal Police Recruitment Board Advertisement No 09/2020. Recruitment Process Online Application. Start Date Of Apply 24/03/2020 (24th March 2020). Last Date Of Apply 24/04/2020 (24th April 2020). Post SI, ASI & Constable. Job Location West Bengal. Who Can Apply All Eligible and Interested candidates Can Apply. Number Of Vacancies 139 Posts Age Limit Applicants Age Limit Must be a maximum of 45 years. Age relaxations will be applicable as per the Government Reservation rules. Education Qualification Sub-Inspector:- Candidate must have served as a Chief Petty Officer/Petty Officer in Navy, Seaman Branch only (Navigation, Communication, Gunnery, Anti-Submarine Warfare, Clearance Driver and Survey Recorders) Or As an Adhikari/Pradhan Navik in Coast Guard, GD Branch only. Assistant Sub-Inspector:- Candidate must have served as a Petty Officer in Navy, Seaman Branch only (Navigation, Communication, Gunnery, Anti-Submarine Warfare, Clearance Driver and Survey Recorders) Or Artificer III/IV, Mechanic III/IV, Mechanic (Power/Radio), Petty Officer Electrical (Power/Radio) in Navy Technical Branch (Non-aviation sailor only). Constable:- Candidate must have served as a Leading Seaman/Seaman-I/Seaman-II in Navy equivalent all branches Or As Uttam Navik/Navik in Coast Guard in GD/Technical Branch only. Application Fees See the official notification. Nationality Must be Indian. Salary 32100/- to 82900/- How to apply All Eligible and Interested candidates Can Apply Online through the official website. SELECTION PROCESS - If you submit your application form than After verification of all application forms, All the eligible candidates will be selected through the following steps. 1. Test / Interview.   DOWNLOAD PDF   🇮🇳 Get all Free Job Alert Click Here 🇮🇳 West Bengal Police Recruitment 2020 Get all Government Job Alert Click Here   Apply Now   The above information has been collected for various newspapers or Govt websites. We are not any Recruiter Agency or we do not hold any kind of Recruitment Process. So Job Finders are requested to go to the Official website of the Government Organization for more details. We are not liable for any kind of Misunderstanding or False information given by the third party Media Agency or Website. Join Telegram Railway Jobs In India Police Jobs in India Defense Jobs in India Research Jobs in India Teaching Jobs in India Bank Jobs in India Hospitality Jobs in India Central Government Jobs Check Exam Result Download Admit Card

Recruitment 2020 – FAQ Q1. What is the Full Form of WBP? The Full Form of WBP is West Bengal Police. Q2. What is WBP? The West Bengal Police is one of the two police forces of the Indian state of West Bengal. The West Bengal Police was reorganized under provisions of the Police Act 1861 during the British Raj. Q3. What is  Recent Recruitment? West Bengal Police Recruitment Board has brought you the golden opportunity of the SI, ASI & Constable post. Q4. How to Apply? All Eligible and Interested candidates/Applicants Can Apply Online through the official website. Q5. What is the selection process of WBP? After submitting your application form, Than After verification of all application forms, All the eligible candidates will be selected through Test & Interview.   🇮🇳 Government Job Vacancy 🇮🇳

West Bengal Police Recruitment 2020 – FreeJobAlert

Posted: March 25, 2020 West Bengal Police Recruitment 2020 139 SI, ASI & Constable Posts  🇮🇳 👉 Government Job Vacancy 👈 🇮🇳 Are you looking for a government job? West Bengal Police Recruitment Board has brought you the golden opportunity of the SI, ASI & Constable post. If you are interested, please read the information below regarding the West 0 comments

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Posted: March 22, 2020 BHEl Bhopal Recruitment (Bharat Heavy Electrical Limited Bhopal) 229 Graduate Apprentice & Diploma Apprentice Posts 🇮🇳 👉 Government Job Vacancy 👈 🇮🇳 Are you looking for a government job? BHEl Bhopal Recruitment Board has brought you the golden opportunity of the Graduate Apprentice & Diploma Apprentice post. If you are interested, please read the information 0 comments Read the full article

[alicescripts]

Part 2, Chapter 2: Mouth of the Water

First the dogs will bark. They’ll know before any of us. Then I will have six to fifteen minutes.

I’ve been taking long walks on this coast, just north of the Oregon border. Bald eagles, actual bald eagles, sitting on a wide sandy beach, and I’m the only one here to see it. I can’t see anyone else in either direction. Waves repeating themselves at the tideline, clouds of birds fluttering up and resetting. 10 to 30 seconds after the dogs start barking, the ground will shake. 6 to 15 minutes later, the tsunami will come.

An earthquake is due here, and afterward the tsunami inevitable. If I began running when the dogs started barking, could I make it to the grassy dunes and up to the hills?

No. I can see the root, can make any plan I want, but I couldn’t outrun the wave. Six to fifteen minutes after the dogs started barking I would die. That’s what would happen.

No one in sight in any direction. Birds at the tideline, actual fucking bald eagles.

I finished my walk still alive. When what’s coming for me finally comes, there will be no warning.

[theme song]

Alice Isn’t Dead by Joseph Fink. Performed by Jasika Nicole, produced by Disparition.

Cape Disappointment. As picturesque piece of land as you’re going to find in this world. Northwest forest overlooking the point where the gray ocean, all froth and wave, and the mouth of the Columbia River, tranquil and turquoise, meet. A dangerous place for boats. Up on the cliffs above, the coast guard keep constant watch from a lighthouse.

I went up there, stood near their lookout. A panorama where so many have floundered, so many have died. But for now, just a beautiful view of the ocean.

The coast guard officer came out of the station, stood next to me in the railing. She closed her eyes, let the wind sweeping in off the river and the wind coming down the coast fight with each other in her hair. She was beautiful, is maybe why I talked to her. Or maybe it had been a long time since I talked to anyone except myself. Monologues broadcast to a wife who is out fighting a fight that I’m still trying to understand.

“Aren’t you supposed to be watching the boats?” I said. I meant it like a joke, but I think it came out like a reprimand. She opened her eyes, glanced at me. “No traffic right now,” she said. “I think it’ll be safe for me to take a second of fresh air, but don’t tell my bosses down the hill. They have different ideas about safety.” 

“[chuckles] Always do, I said. I’m Keisha.” 

“Laurel.” 

“Not Officer something?” I asked. 

“[scoffs] Yeah, Officer Something,” she said. “But for you, Laurel.”

A pressure in my chest that could have been pain or could have been laughter. It had been so long since I had flirted, or felt the fleeting pleasure of the five-minute crush. “What about that boat there?” I said. “Seems like you’re derelicting your duties, Laurel.”

There was a boat, medium-sized, tiny in comparison to the mighty cargo ships that come and go through this passage. It was painted black and sitting motionless near the mouth of the river. As soon as I pointed it out, I wished I hadn’t. There was a wrongness to it that didn’t belong to a spring afternoon’s flirtation.

Laurel didn’t look at the boat or at me. Any friendliness that had been in her face, or that I had imagined in her face, was gone.“I’m not supposed to talk while on duty, Ma’am,” she said. “Excuse me.” She went back into the station, slamming the door. [chuckle] I haven’t lost my touch, Alice!

We have a problem as a society. Our goal is efficiency, but the result of efficiency by definition is that it takes less work to get things done. And less work to get things done means there is less work to do. If there is less work, there are less jobs. Progress destroys jobs.

Another result of efficiency is an explosion in population. The easier things get, the less of us die. More and more of us, less and less jobs.

This place was named by a fur trader who stopped here and failed to discover the Columbia River around the corner. And so this little piece of coast line heaven is Cape Disappointment. There’s this one beach on an inlet tucked away from the main trail. I had to go down a path that was more a controlled fall than path. The water was shallow and clear, the sharp blue of a tropical sea in a postcard. There were people living in tents on that semi-hidden beach. I watched them play with their dogs. The dogs swam way out into the inlet. I wanted to swim too but the water, for all its tropical appearance, was freezing.

When I went back to where I had parked, a buck came out of the woods and crossed the road right in front of me. Slow, leisurely, unafraid. Later I went up north a bit, to a place that billed itself as a free museum, but was more of a gift shop with some stuff stuck to its walls. Jackalopes and two-headed calves and the like. Old coin-operated stuff. A coin-operated execution. You put in your quarter and the minute your castle doors opened, a priest read last rites, the prisoner was hung, and a black flag rose over the castle walls. I paid to see it twice.

They had a body they built as an alligator man. I think it’s an actual corpse’s head stuck on the body of an alligator which is… Well, it’s something. They had it in a glass case, next to a T-shirt rack. For a quarter I could get a penny smashed with its image. I didn’t.

I bought a Piña Colada flavored saltwater taffy. While I was buying it, I asked the guy behind the counter about the boat I had seen. I don’t know why, but the reaction of Laurel made me curious. He frowned. “Not many people ask about that boat,” he said. “Tourists don’t stick around long enough to notice it. Locals know enough not to talk about it. That’ll be 3.99.” “Why don’t locals talk about it?” I asked. What, I was gonna be friends with this guy? Either he’d tell me or he wouldn’t. He looked past me to the next customer. [monotonous voice] “It’s been in the same spot for three decades now,” he said. “Don’t seem to be anchored, just unaffected by currents. Holds its position. No one is ever seen onboard. People who ask questions about it learn that they shouldn’t. I need to help the next person in life.” “OK,” I said, wondering why I had bought saltwater taffy. The taste is disappointing, the texture’s garbage. “Thanks!” and I left the free museum with my four-dollar shitty candy.

Down the street was an arcade called Fun Land, but I took to pronouncing it Funland, like Iceland. I spent an afternoon playing skee ball. I’m looking for a vacation from this endless search for answers, and here on a sliver of land on the coast of Washington, I think I’ve found it. Can’t last long though. I can’t live forever in Funland. I can’t live forever period.

Humanity’s drive toward betterment has resulted in two things: more people and less jobs. None of our choices were wrong, exactly. Each was made with good intentions, hell maybe every choice was correct. The problem wasn’t the choices but the values. Survival is no longer a value, because survival has become easy. It used to be old people were revered, because they had outrun death longer than anyone else. Now old people are just the ones who waited around too long. Anyone can become an old person with a little luck. It’s not a collapse of morals that has diminished our respect for the elderly. It’s an inevitable response to the changing meaning of age.

I ate Indian food down in Astoria, a lunch buffet. As I was eating, a woman came in looking for me. I didn’t recognize her at first out of uniform, but it was Laurel. She sat across from me. I felt the faint pang of a passing afternoon’s crush. Without a greeting, she held out her phone to me. A photo of a middle-aged man, bushy silver mustache, arm in arm with a teenage boy. “That’s my brother Bobby,” Laurel said. “And that’s his son, my nephew Evan.” “Ah, OK,” I said. This seemed like a strange conversation, but I lost my ability to judge strangeness somewhere around Texas. “Bobby was obsessed with the black boat,” she said. “Spent hours watching it, said he never saw anything on board, then one day he did.” “What did he see?” I asked. “Wouldn’t tell anyone. Rented a kayak in Navy Heights and went out into the mouth of the river. Said he had no choice and he had to get to that boat. Wouldn’t listen to anyone telling him different, wouldn’t let anyone come with him. We lost sight of his kayak - don’t know how, it was broad daylight. There and then gone. Never found any kind of body.” “I’m sorry,” I said. “This is a country of the vanished, of the missing. We’ve got a lot of space to put them, I guess. Then his kid Evan, he gets obsessed with the idea that the black boat took his father somehow. We tried to get him interested in other things, put him through therapy, stuff like that but it doesn’t take. The answer to his pain is in that boat, and so he goes to the same place as his father, rents the same kind of kayak, takes the same kind of journey.” I knew the ending to the story. “How long has he been missing? “I asked. “It was a year three weeks ago,” she said. “You seem like a nice woman. Hm. Maybe in a different life, you know? Maybe in a kinder world, but I like you enough to tell you this: forget you ever saw the black boat. Never ask about it again, it’s not a mystery to solve. It’s a depth to drown in.” She held my eyes for a moment more and then left me to my lunch, which I had no more appetite for. That all you can eat buffet got a good deal on me.

I knew exactly what that black boat was. A supernatural oddity stealing innocent people? It was a Thistle boat. There were Thistle men onboard. And so tired, lost me, I would have to stop them.

Out to Cape Disappointment with binoculars from the truck. Went up on a ridge above the trail to the lighthouse and I looked out at the Thistle boat. I knew what I would see. Sagging face, yellow teeth, yellow hat, “Thistle”. The boat had no name, no markings. Every surface was painted black. I watched for a long while, but there was no movement on the deck, nothing in the windows. It seemed truly abandoned except that it stayed in position against the current. I put down the binoculars considering my next move.

And that’s when I noticed something on the deck, even with my naked eyes from this distance. Dots of various colors. They hadn’t been there a moment ago. I looked back through the binoculars. The entire deck was covered in people. They were all facing me, looking right back at me through the lenses. I was too far away for anyone to see me against the hillside. They saw me.

They weren’t Thistle men. They were people. Women, men, mouths open, dull eyes. Some of them are dressed in clothes that could only have been worn without irony in the 80’s. others wearing clothes that could have been worn without vintage cool in the 70’s. there was a man with a bushy silver mustache. I could taste the horror on my gum line. Bobby, slack-jawed. Bobby, staring. And a gangly teenager, Evan, across the deck from Bobby. Nowhere near him, same expression. Both staring back at me as I stared at them.

I put the binoculars away. I stepped back down onto the trail and descended toward the parking lot. This was not a Thistle boat. That’s not what Thistle does to people. This is some other horror, unrelated to whatever I’ve been chasing.

I have enough terror in my life. I can’t add more. [scoffs] A boat that eats people. It will have to be a story without me. I am leaving.

Since we no longer value survival and age, we need some other way to rank people. Because we need that, we need some people to be worth more than others. We have many ways to do that, but here’s one: we value wealth. The ones who own more are better. Not for any reason, just because. And since theoretically but rarely actually in practice, the way toward owning more is work, work has become a measure of someone’s value, second only to money. A lazy rich person is better than a poor person with a good job, but a poor person with a job is better than a poor person without a job. Ranked first by wealth, then by worth. And so that is the situation. There are more of us, there are less jobs, and we value people by whether they have a job or not.

What happens when you have a world where it is impossible for people to create value for themselves in the eyes of society? What happens when we judge people for the inevitable outcome of our collective actions? I don’t know. But together we’re finding out.

Driving back over to Astoria. The long bridge across the mouth of the Columbia River. Starting out it’s a causeway right on the water. Seagulls flying overhead, riding the same wind that’s nudging my trailer toward tragedy. Once you drive out under the bridge, you can’t turn around for four miles until you’re back on land. Which is fine, which is normal. But also I feel the anxiety. Being trapped on a course, no alternatives except the disaster of water. The bridge rises steeply, creating a section that the cargo ships can pass under. This is uncomfortable in a truck this size, the engine roaring against the weight behind it. And now break lights. We’re stopping. Construction, traffic going in one way only, we have to wait our turn.

I’m on a slope so steep that I’m looking at clouds in order to see the car in front of me. It’s less that they’re in front of me and more that they’re suspended above me. [sighs] Breathe. Your anxiety does not change your circumstances. You can get as anxious as you want, the world will stay the same. [breathes deeply] It doesn’t help that just the turn of the head puts the black boat in my view. No one on board again, those empty faces gone. Or not gone, but not visible to me. I must always remember that not visible to me and not in existence are not the same thing. That would be a good thing for all of us to remember, I guess.

Here’s a cargo ship coming. Modern, a tiny control center dwarfed by the vast expanse it controls. The kind of ship that crosses oceans. Huh. The ship is gonna pass really close to the black boat. It might even.. that’s gonna be a near one. It’s going to.. oh my god, hold on.

I’m on the highway to Portland now. Logging depots, gas stations with stalls outside selling fresh fruit picked nearby. The great cargo ship collided with the black boat. I gout out of the truck, went to the side of the bridge to watch. A lot of people did. We were stopped anyway. We were standing on this steep slope that swayed with the wind and jittered with the movement of traffic in the other direction. Flimsy, like we were all perched on the thinnest branch at the top of the tallest tree. I covered my mouth, anxiety kindling into horror.

The ship didn’t slow. Didn’t see the other boat maybe? Or-or a miscalculation, an error? God knows there are plenty of those.

The ship cut through the center of the black boat and the black boat turned up on its side and then tore in half. The force must have made a gash in the hull of the larger ship because it sagged forward in the water, like a person falling to her knees, and then listed sideways. This might have taken a while. We all may have stood there a long while. One of the containers on the bigger ship wasn’t secured correctly. It toppled off the deck. The black boat settled under the water, a slow disappearing act. I never saw anyone on board the entire time.

The police got us back into our vehicles, got traffic moving. Coast guard boats rashed to the collision, rescued the crew of the bigger ship, but there was no sign of anyone from the other boat. They reported that initial sweeps found no sign of its wreckage under the water. I don’t suspect they’ll ever find that wreckage. I don’t suspect they’ll look too hard.

There once was a black boat on a wide blue river. The only people onboard were the people who had asked the dangerous question. And one day, it sunk and was never seen again. It’s a simple story, a story with no ending. The kind of story that happens every day in this country.

Vacation over, I guess. Back to asking my own dangerous questions. Back to receiving my own dangerous answers.

-- Knock knock. [left speaker] Who’s there? [right speaker] No one. [left] No one who? [right] No, no one is here. It’s been quiet out here for a long time. Once there were people, I think but they moved on. Why haven’t you moved on? [left] If no one’s here then who is talking? [right] No one is. [left] No one’s talking? [right] Yes. [left] OK. [right] OK. [left] I love you. [right] I know.

[newstfionline]

Headlines

Work From Home Is Here to Stay (The Atlantic) “Are you still working, doo-doo?” This is the interruption that the Stanford University economist Nick Bloom hears several times a day as his 4-year-old daughter runs into his office and summons him to play by using his nickname. But the blurring of work and home lives might not be just a temporary side effect of the pandemic. Many Americans were already couch laborers before this all started. Prior to the coronavirus outbreak, about 29 percent of college graduates worked from home at least some of the time. Even once coronavirus restrictions are eased, Bloom and others expect the proportion of Americans working from home to grow. “I could see it being totally standard for jobs that can be performed at home to allow two days at home” per week, he told me. Companies have been reluctant to allow employees to work from home because of inertia and entrenched norms, says Julia Pollak, the labor economist at ZipRecruiter. But the pandemic has forced nearly two-thirds of Americans to work remotely, making it clear just how much work can get done from home, even despite the presence of children. When people get certain perks from their jobs, they tend to value those perks more than they used to, according to research by Monica Kirkpatrick Johnson, a sociologist at Washington State University. Workers might resist being yanked back into offices after they’ve enjoyed the luxury of never changing out of their pajamas.

33 million have sought US unemployment aid since virus hit (AP) Nearly 3.2 million laid-off workers applied for unemployment benefits last week as the business shutdowns caused by the viral outbreak deepened the worst U.S. economic catastrophe in decades. Roughly 33.5 million people have now filed for jobless aid in the seven weeks since the coronavirus began forcing millions of companies to close their doors and slash their workforces. That is the equivalent of one in five Americans who had been employed back in February, when the unemployment rate had reached a 50-year low of just 3.5%.

As Hunger Swells, Food Stamps Become a Partisan Flash Point (NYT) As a padlocked economy leaves millions of Americans without paychecks, lines outside food banks have stretched for miles, prompting some of the overwhelmed charities to seek help from the National Guard. New research shows a rise in food insecurity without modern precedent. Among mothers with young children, nearly one-fifth say their children are not getting enough to eat, according to a survey by the Brookings Institution. The reality of so many Americans running out of food is an alarming reminder of the economic hardship the pandemic has inflicted. But despite their support for spending trillions on other programs to mitigate those hardships, Republicans have balked at a long-term expansion of food stamps—a core feature of the safety net that once enjoyed broad support but is now a source of a highly partisan divide. Democrats want to raise food stamp benefits by 15 percent for the duration of the economic crisis, arguing that a similar move during the Great Recession reduced hunger and helped the economy. But Republicans have fought for years to shrink the program, saying that the earlier liberalization led to enduring caseload growth and a backdoor expansion of the welfare state.

Fears of ‘second wave’ hang over coronavirus successes (AP) Britain was expected to extend its nationwide lockdown on Thursday, but the European country hit hardest by the coronavirus plans cautiously to ease some restrictions on economic and social activity next week as it tries to reopen without sparking a devastating second wave of infections. Authorities in many countries are drawing up plans for how to cope with a resurgence in outbreaks even as they slowly work to reopen businesses and resume other activity halted to combat the pandemic. In Germany, which has begun to emerge from lockdown, authorities have begun drawing up plans to cope with any resurgence of the virus and experts in Italy doubled down on finding new victims and tracing their contacts. France, which hasn’t yet eased its lockdown, has already worked up a “reconfinement plan” in the event of a new wave.

Trump Vetoes Iran War Powers Resolution (Foreign Policy) On Wednesday, U.S. President Donald Trump vetoed a bipartisan war powers resolution that would have required congressional approval to carry out military strikes against Iran, the latest in an ongoing battle between the White House and Capitol Hill over war powers authorities. Wednesday’s veto is not the first time that Trump has batted away congressional attempts to restrict his ability to use military force without a legislative greenlight. Lawmakers advanced similar measures to stop U.S. support for the Saudi-led coalition in Yemen’s war last year, which Trump also vetoed. But the lawmakers backing the latest resolution are undeterred, saying they’re playing the long game and inching their way closer to getting war powers authorities on the books.

The Irish give back (NYT) More than 170 years ago, the Choctaw Nation sent $170 to starving Irish families during the potato famine. A sculpture in County Cork commemorates the generosity of the tribe, itself poor. In recent decades, ties between Ireland and the Choctaws have grown. Now hundreds of Irish people are repaying that old kindness, giving to a charity drive for two Native American tribes suffering in the Covid-19 pandemic.

Poland postpones presidential election (Foreign Policy) A controversial presidential election in Poland, due to take place on Sunday, has now been postponed. The ruling Law and Justice party had pushed for the election to go ahead, but a dispute over how to enact postal voting on short notice derailed their plan.

Chemical leak at LG plant in India kills 11, about 1,000 ill (AP) A gas leaked from an LG chemical plant in southern India early Thursday, leaving people struggling to breathe and collapsing in the streets as they tried to flee. At least 11 people died and about 1,000 suffered breathing difficulties and other problems. The synthetic chemical styrene leaked from the LG Polymers plant in a city on India’s eastern coast while workers were preparing to restart the facility after a coronavirus lockdown was eased, state official Vinay Chand said. Chand said some people collapsed on the road and were rushed to a hospital. About 1,000 people in an area of 3 kilometres (1.8 miles) complained of breathing difficulties and a burning sensation in their eyes, he said.

India to begin massive evacuation operation from 12 countries (MENA) The first of more than 60 flights repatriating thousands of Indians stranded overseas by the coronavirus lockdown is due to set off on Thursday. Nearly 15,000 Indians are expected to return on special Air India flights from 12 countries over the next week. Passengers will pay their own fares and be quarantined on return. India suspended all international travel in March before it went into lockdown to curb Covid-19 infections. Eventually, about 200,000 Indians will be brought back, report local media.

Netanyahu cleared to form government (Foreign Policy) Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu surmounted the latest hurdle in his bid to retain power, as the Israeli Supreme Court ruled that his corruption charges should not get in the way of forming a government. Netanyahu and his political rival, Benny Gantz, agreed a power-sharing deal in April after almost a year of deadlock and multiple elections. The new coalition partners expect their government to be sworn in next week. While the Supreme Court has allowed Netanyahu to continue in government, it pointed out that the ruling was not a preemptive absolution from his impending corruption trial. “The legal conclusion we reached does not diminish the severity of the pending charges against MK Netanyahu for violations of moral integrity and the difficulty derived from the tenure of a prime minister accused of criminal activity,” the court said.

[mhsn033]

Best health 3 key takeaways from 1st night of Democratic National Convention

Best health

The main virtual convention opened on Monday evening with a gathering (of forms) that features a various roster of Democratic Social gathering loyalists, members of the frail guard, ascending stars, outdated 2020 contenders and even some Republicans.

Over four days, Democrats are location to bring an overriding message of team spirit — one who they hope will lift thru to November and lift voters of all stripes into the immense tent birthday celebration.

Dominating the evening, which is framed around the three main crises that continue to grip the nation ahead of the 2020 election — the coronavirus pandemic, the ongoing economic downturn the virus has sparked and the nationwide reckoning over racial injustice — is the birthday celebration’s push to distinction President Donald Trump and presumptive nominee Joe Biden.

Biden, the audio system repeatedly argued, is largely the most classic one who can lead the country out of chaos and divisiveness.

This 12 months’s festivities are a sharp departure from conventions of the past, that are historically daunting productions planned years prematurely and identified for raucous crowds of birthday celebration loyalists packed internal a convention corridor. Nonetheless the coronavirus pandemic has dramatically minimized the nominating celebration’s footprint in Milwaukee — with main programming taking plan remotely across the country.

The convention’s climax comes on Thursday, when Biden formally accepts the birthday celebration’s nomination at his 12th convention, marking the begin of the final election season. On Wednesday, the birthday celebration is determined to produce historic past, nominating the first Sunless individual and first lady of Indian descent as a vice presidential candidate: Sen. Kamala Harris, D-Calif.

Here are 5 takeaways from the evening:

Joe Biden, the healer

At the center of Biden’s marketing campaign to oust Trump is a call to revive the soul of the country, and it used to be the thematic thread connecting every speech, taped video and montage on the first evening of the convention.

Dwelling Majority Whip Jim Clyburn, D-S.C., whose endorsement in leisurely February helped propel Biden to the nomination, known as Biden “an adopted son of South Carolina,” arguing that the diversifications between Biden and Trump would possibly perchance presumably no longer be extra determined.

“We can want a president who sees unifying people as a requirement of the job, a president who understands the correct which contrivance of neighborhood and how to have it thru belief and humility,” Clyburn acknowledged. “We want a president who understands both profound loss, and what it takes to leap support.That’s why I stand with Joe.”

Any other longtime buddy of Biden, Fresh York Gov. Andrew Cuomo, delivered both a internal most appeal for Biden’s candidacy and an implicit, blistering critique of Trump.

“We want a scramble-setter as apt as our people. A main who appeals to the suitable internal us, no longer the worst. A main who can unify, no longer divide,” Cuomo acknowledged. “I do know that man, I’ve worked with that man. I’ve viewed his skill. I’ve viewed his energy. I’ve viewed his peril and I’ve viewed his heart… Joe Biden can restore the soul of The US, and that’s the reason exactly what our country wants this day.”

Evening 1 specializes in coalition’s flanks

Beyond the virtual structure, the convention balanced an ideological labyrinth, embracing the modern flit of the birthday celebration and Republicans disappointed by the president.

The point of ardour of the evening wasn’t fully on the birthday celebration’s vulgar, however in its place on the flanks that will presumably enhance the coalition Biden is looking out for to have.

Sen. Bernie Sanders, D-Vt., the modern stalwart and last of the 2020 candidates to exit the scramble, cited the development his insurgent coast has made, suggesting that the priorities that after gave the impact radical easiest years in the past, are with out a doubt regarded as “mainstream.” He additionally grew to modified into to the complete reasons why his precise backers must line up in the support of Biden, telling his vulgar that whereas he and Biden are very assorted, he is aware of the outdated vice president “will pass us ahead.”

“Joe supports elevating the minimum wage to $15 an hour,” Sanders acknowledged. “Joe will additionally produce it more easy for workers to hitch unions, create 12 weeks of paid household lag away, fund universal pre-K for 3 and 4-12 months-olds and produce child care cheap for millions of households… Whereas Joe and I disagree on the suitable course to discover universal coverage, he has a thought that will drastically amplify health care and lower the costs of prescription remedy.”

Sanders additionally underscored the stakes of the election.

“Nero fiddled whereas Rome burned. Trump golfs,” he acknowledged, a sharp jab on the president. “We must reach collectively, defeat Donald Trump, and elect Joe Biden and Kamala Harris as our next president and vice president. My associates, the cost of failure is magnificent too immense to bear in mind.”

And Sanders wasn’t alone.

Historic Ohio Gov. John Kasich, who ran for the Republican nomination against Trump in 2016, had no doubt one of the extra controversial speeches of the evening along with his presence roiling some on the left, and brought no doubt one of basically the most irregular pitches for Biden to voters on the fence.

Kasich, who crossed birthday celebration lines to appear on the Democratic convention, used to be no longer alone in his stance, however he used to be basically the most high-profile Republican audio system, and mirrored the breadth of Biden’s efforts in courting voters.

“I’m certain there are Republicans and independents who couldn’t bear in mind crossing over to enhance a Democrat,” Kasich acknowledged. “They alarm Joe would possibly perchance presumably turn sharp left and lag away them in the support of. I don’t bear in mind that because I do know the measure of the person. It be cheap, devoted, respectful, and, you realize, no one pushes Joe around.”

Michelle Obama steps off sidelines, into political highlight

Historic first girl Michelle Obama, who has strayed some distance from outright reveals of politics, took aim at Trump by title, wrapping the first evening of Democratic programming with a 20-minute speech to rally voters.

In talking to American citizens and capacity voters, Obama acknowledged she understands the distaste many across the country bear for politics, however that a “upright foundation” is lacking from the White Dwelling.

“I am right here tonight because I with out a doubt fancy this country with all my heart, and it difficulty me to appear so many members hurting,” she acknowledged. “Barack and I bear tried our very perfect to instill in our ladies a sturdy upright foundation to lift ahead the values that our people and grandparents poured into us. Nonetheless upright now, children on this country are seeing what happens after we end requiring empathy of each other. They’re taking a be aware around questioning if we now were lying to them this complete time about who we are and what we with out a doubt value.”

Obama’s focal point in the lead up to the election centered around voter engagement and registration– whereas quietly denouncing and subtly the president and his time in the Oval Place of work. Monday evening she selected a extra order course, highlighting what she sees as screw ups by the president: an economy in shambles, the hundreds of hundreds of American citizens who bear died from the coronavirus pandemic and racial difference which has plagued the nation for years.

“As a consequence of on every occasion we look to this White Dwelling for some management or consolation or any semblance of steadiness, what we discover in its place is chaos, division, and a complete and reveal lack of empathy,” she acknowledged. “So let me be as apt and determined as I presumably can. Donald Trump is the grisly president for our country. He has had extra than passable time to picture that he can have the job, however he’s clearly in over his head. He cannot meet this second. He merely cannot be who we need him to be for us. It’s miles what it is.”

She wrapped up her speech with a key phrase spoken by those who endorsed Biden: “I do know Joe. He is a profoundly decent man, guided by faith. He used to be an out of this world vice president. He is aware of what it takes to rescue an economy, beat support a virulent disease, and lead our country — and he listens. He will picture the very fact and belief science. He will produce tidy plans and prepare a apt crew and he will govern as someone who’s lived a lifestyles that the the relaxation of us can acknowledge.”

An gaze on November

Democrats sought to highlight American citizens struggling from Trump’s presidency as section of their effort to leverage the convention to recruit swing voters ahead of the final election.

Between speeches from political mainstays throughout the Democratic birthday celebration, everyday workers got an different to reveal on their experiences over the last three-and-a-half years of the Trump presidency — including the outdated couple of months of the coronavirus pandemic — and underscore why they’re with out a doubt getting in the support of Biden.

The DNC tapped Kristin Urquiza, who misplaced her father earlier this summer season to COVID-19.

“He had faith in Donald Trump. He voted for him, listened to him, believed him and his mouthpieces after they acknowledged that coronavirus used to be under control and going to fade, that it used to be k to complete social distancing guidelines sooner than it used to be loyal, that in case you had no underlying health circumstances, you’d perchance be elegant,” she acknowledged of her father, who handed away at age 65.

“After 5 agonizing days he died alone, in the ICU, with a nurse holding his hand. My dad used to be a wholesome 65-12 months-frail. His easiest preexisting situation used to be trusting Donald Trump, and for that he paid along with his lifestyles. I’m no longer alone,” she added.

Democrats test the virtual structure

As the convention discovered its rhythm throughout the evening, the match used to be no longer without adjustments and little technical challenges because the organizers interspersed are residing speeches and taped pieces.

Some are residing audio system began slightly too early, one of the principal segments featured blurred videos, however however, the birthday celebration persevered thru it all.

For so much of the evening, the convention’s organizers had been juggling hundreds of feeds, broadcasting are residing videos from residing rooms, rooftops, stages and balconies across the nation.

The main evening of audio system, some of which were in precise time, had been additionally jumbled along with pre-recorded remarks and montages that includes frontline workers, minute industrial owners and an array of voters.

“Hi there, every person, how are you? Thanks for doing this,” Biden told social justice activist Jamira Burley, Chicago Mayor Lori Lightfoot, Houston Police Chief Art Acevedo, NAACP President Derrick Johnson, and creator Gwen Carr, mom of Eric Garner, who all looked on separate screens throughout a pre-recorded discussion on racial injustice – a scene that underscored magnificent how much has modified for this 12 months’s convention.

This file used to be featured in the Tuesday, Aug. 18, 2020, episode of “Initiating Here,” ABC Recordsdata’ everyday data podcast.

“Initiating Here” gives a straightforward bear a look on the day’s prime tales in 20 minutes. Hear for free every weekday on Apple Podcasts, Google Podcasts, Spotify, the ABC Recordsdata app or wherever you discover your podcasts.

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[keywestlou]

EARLY KEY WEST BURIALS

The Key West Cemetery is one of Key West’s most famous tourist spots. Now located in Old Town. Not always the location.

I came across 2 interesting  bits about early Key West burials.

The first involves location.

In the early 1800’s, the first cemetery was located on the “western beach between the town and Whitehead’s Point.” Most of the graves were located in the space between Emma Street and the Marine Hospital Building.

The cemetery was not like today’s or anything even similar to what we have come to know as a cemetery. A body was buried and a few stones randomly placed on top of the grave. No grave stone as such.

An 1830 visitor described the stones. Few had any names etched on them. Most were “a few plain stones to tell that the possessions of the little tenant below once lived and died.”

Some stones marked the length of the body below.

The question generally asked was: “Who sleeps below?”

The use of stones was probably copied from the Indians who frequented the lower Keys. They sprinkled/set a few small stones above a grave.

For several years when my children were young, we vacationed on Block Island. An island off the coast of Rhode Island.

There was a “painted rock.” A stone about 4 x 4 feet. Kids used to go and paint the stone. My children did it several times. Everyone always painted over the previous person’s paint job.

A tradition.

I was standing watching my children one day when a Block Island local began talking to me. He asked if I had seen the Indian cemetery. I had not. It was across the street from painted rock and a way in the woods.

A small open area. Weedy. Small tones in an irregular grouping here and there. The Indians of Block Island were buried similarly as the early residents and the Indians of Key West.

Respect for the dead was common place. As it is today. Except the respect evidenced in a different manner.

From the mid 1800’s to the early 1900’s, the Key West custom re burials involved the closing of the doors of all stores while a funeral procession was passing by. All business along the line of march was suspended.

The late 1960’s and into the 1970’s, public demonstrations were frequent. By those opposed to the Vietnam War. College students and adults alike.

An anti-war demonstration had bean going on for several days on the Kent State University campus. The National Guard had been called in.

On the third day of the National Guard presence, the National Guard shot at the students. I recall the TV showing of the shootings. The students were running down a slightly slopping hill to get away from the Guardsmen. Shots were being fired. Four students were killed. One paralyzed.

Similar shootings will take place at some point in the U.S. At State capitols. The difference with Kent State is the demonstrators will be shooting at government officials.

Armed protesters make such an occurrence inevitable.

J. Crew filed for bankruptcy protection last week. A Chapter 11. Means the company will continue in business while working out a debt repayment plan that the company can handle. The Bankruptcy Court says who gets paid and when. Gives a company such as J. Crew breathing room to get going again.

It was announced that 5  northeast States have joined together to purchase ventilators and protective gear such as masks and gloves. New York, New Jersey, Connecticut, Pennsylvania and Delaware.

The Governors of the 5 States decided they could get better prices and avoid getting into a bidding war with each other.

I am confused. Trump keeps saying we have so many ventilators now. He has them stored in a federal facility. So many, that he keeps telling us how he is providing them to other countries. Whether free or for money, I am not sure.

If Trump has so many, why do the 5 States need to go elsewhere for ventilators?

Does not make sense to me. I suspect somewhere along the line Trump is bullshitting us or perhaps charging too much.

Trump was interviewed last night by FOX in the Lincoln Memorial. Sitting directly in front of Lincoln.

I consider it an insult that Trump featured himself in such place. An Abraham Lincoln he is not.

A top Italian medical authority revealed that 75 percent of the people who died in Italy from coronavirus had high blood pressure.

I’m doing good. I’m 84 and have a bad heart. Also have high blood pressure. Since I was 30 years old.

Involves the heart, I know. However I view it as another malady. Mine is controlled by pills each day. Keeps my blood pressure low. Exceptionally low.

God bless the pills!

An observation. Coronavirus is nowhere under control. I believe the reopenings are foolish and too soon. People who are on the side of what I consider early reopenings are gambling with their lives.

Why don’t they understand?

The U.S. Senate is returning to Washington today. Washington is infested with coronavirus. Trump insists there are enough tests for the law makers.

He tweeted, “There is tremendous caronavirus testing capacity in Washington.” Despite multiple reports of the Senate’s shortage of tests.

At 10 this morning, the stock market was down 300 points.

Enjoy your day!

    EARLY KEY WEST BURIALS was originally published on Key West Lou

[kennethherrerablog]

Student Loan Forgiveness: What You Should Know

With the rising costs of higher education, student loans have seemingly become an unavoidable way to invest in your future. But the burden of these loans can stick with you for the rest of your life.

More than 44.7 million Americans have student loan debt. That’s 20% of all adults living in the US. The total student loan debt has surpassed $1.47 trillion.

If you can’t pay off your debts, you might qualify for student loan forgiveness. Under specific circumstances, your loans could be partially canceled or even eliminated in-full.

What is Student Loan Forgiveness and How Does it Work?

Student loan forgiveness relieves your obligation to pay back all or part of your federal loan debts. Qualification for student loan forgiveness varies based on the type of loan, your job, and personal situation.

Private student loans are not eligible for student loan forgiveness. Only Federal Direct student loans qualify for exoneration.

In most cases, there are three ways to have your loans canceled, forgiven, or discharged:

Working in public service.

Income-contingent payment plans.

Circumstances beyond the borrower’s control like permanent disability, school closures during enrollment, falsification of loan qualifications, identify theft, or death

Dropping out of college or struggling to find a job would do not qualify as “circumstances beyond the borrower’s control.”

However, other rare circumstances could cancel your student loans. In 2015. the US Department of Education relieved $95.5 million of student debt from borrowers after the Corinthian Colleges for-profit college chain was accused of using illegal and high-pressure tactics to recruit students. I wouldn’t plan on having this happen to your loans though, it’s quite rare.

7 Student Loan Forgiveness Programs

To see if you qualify for student loan forgiveness, there are seven different programs for you to check. It’s unlikely that you’ll be eligible for all of these, so use this guide to see which program fits your unique situation.

Public Service Loan Forgiveness Program (PSLF)

The Public Service Loan Forgiveness Program (PSLF) was created by Congress in 2007. The purpose of PSLF is to encourage college graduates to take public service jobs.

In exchange for working in these positions, graduates with debt can have a portion of their student loans forgiven. According to Forbes, Over 60% of the people who applied for PSLF borrowed more than $50,000 in federal loans.

Examples of public service jobs that qualify for the Public Service Loan Forgiveness program include:

Any position in local, state, or federal government organization.

Nonprofit organizations that are Section 501(c)(3) tax exempt.

Nonprofit organizations that provide eligible public services.

Peace Corps and AmeriCorps full-time volunteers.

You must work full-time (minimum of 30 hours per week) to qualify. Furthermore, you must also make at least 120 on-time monthly payments (10 years) after your federal loans have been consolidated into a qualifying repayment plan.

If you work in the public sector, definitely take advantage of this program.

Repayment Plans For Loan Forgiveness

If you’re struggling to meet your payments or worry about defaulting, look into the different repayment options.

Repayment plans for loan forgiveness include:

Income-Based Repayment (IBR) — Monthly payments will be a maximum 15% of your discretionary income. After 25 years of qualifying payments, you’ll be eligible for forgiveness.

Income-Contingent Repayment (ICR) —  Monthly payments are calculated annually based on gross income, family status, and the balance of outstanding federal loans. Forgiveness eligibility comes after 25 years of qualified payments.

Pay as You Earn (PAYE) or Revised Pay as You Earn (REPAYE) — Also known as the Obama Loan Forgiveness Program. Monthly payments will be a maximum 10% of your discretionary income. Forgiveness is eligible after 20 years of qualified payments. With a PAYE plan, you need to prove financial hardship to qualify. This is not a requirement in the REPAYE program.

Each of these programs has different requirements for who can apply..

Teacher Cancellation Low Income (TCLI)

The teacher loan forgiveness program allows educators at qualifying schools to have up to $17,500 in student loans forgiven.

Originally created in 1998, the program was made to encourage teachers to fill positions at schools serving low-income households.

To get your loans canceled, you must teach full-time at a qualifying school for five years consecutively. Qualifying schools appear on the Teacher Cancellation Low Income (TCLI) Directory.

Loan Forgiveness for Military and Armed Forces

There are several different loan forgiveness programs for members of the US armed forces. The programs, details, and qualification terms vary based on your branch.

The most popular student loan forgiveness programs for military personnel include:

Military College Loan Repayment Program (CLRP)

Servicemembers Civil Relief Act (SCRA)

Army Student Loan Repayment Program

Navy Student Loan Repayment Program

National Guard Student Loan Repayment Program

Coast Guard Loan Repayment Program

National Defense Student Loan Discharge

CLRP For Reserve Servicemembers

USAF Judge Advocate General Corps Repayment Program (JA-SLRP)

Veterans Total and Permanent Disability (TPD) Discharge

Forgiveness terms vary depending on your active duty status, loan interest amount, time served, and other qualifying factors.

Nurse Corps Loan Repayment Program

Registered nurses working in high-need areas or areas with a critical nurse shortage can qualify for a special loan forgiveness program. This applies to nurse practitioners and anyone working at a qualifying nursing faculty as well.

In total, up to 85% of student loans can be forgiven under this program. Up to 60% of loans can be canceled after working a nursing position in an underserved location. You can be relieved of an additional 25% of your loans after three years.

Visit the Health Resource & Services Administration website to determine your eligibility and apply to the program.

Attorney Student Loan Repayment Program (ASLRP)

Lawyers who practice in a government office or public service office can have a portion of their law school loans forgiven. Like other programs on the list, it’s an incentive for lawyers to take a job serving the greater good.

ASLRP can forgive up to $60,000 in loans for lawyers working at least three years in a qualifying position. Visit the US Department of Justice to apply.

Health Professions Loan Forgiveness Program

Doctors, dentists, physicians, physicians assistants, mental healthcare workers, veterinarians, and pharmacists have several different options to receive student loan forgiveness.

The National Health Service Corps Loan Repayment Program (NHSC LRP) is a popular option.

Licensed healthcare providers can receive up to $50,000 in student loan relief after working two years at an approved site.

Other options include:

Students to Service Loan Repayment Program (S2S LRP)

Faculty Loan Repayment Program (FLRP)

Indian Health Services (IHS) Educational Loan Repayment

National Institute of Health (NIH) Loan Repayment Program

Health Professionals Loan Repayment Program (HPLRP)

Medical professionals can also qualify for some of the military loan forgiveness programs (mentioned earlier) for serving as active duty medical personnel in a qualifying branch.

Other Options if You Don’t Qualify For Student Loan Forgiveness

Not everyone will qualify for a student loan forgiveness program. Just 1% of the 73,000 people who applied for PSLF were approved over the last two years.

If you don’t qualify for PSLF or one of the other student loan forgiveness programs listed above, you aren’t out of hope just yet. Consider the following options to get your loans forgiven.

Contact Your Loan Servicer

If you’re struggling to make payments, the first thing you should do is contact your loan servicer. This is a better option than ignoring your student loans or defaulting on your loans.

You might be able to negotiate the payment terms with the servicer. Whether it be lowering the monthly minimums or potentially even reducing the balance. Either way, it’s worth calling them to see what your options are.

Direct Consolidation

The majority of federal student loans are eligible for direct consolidation.

Rather than paying multiple loans with varying interest rates to different lenders, you can consolidate your student debt into a single loan from one lender. This will make your life much easier when it comes to making monthly payments.

Direct consolidation loans can be extended for up to 30 years, which can significantly lower your monthly balance. However, you’ll most likely pay additional interest over time.

Loan Deferment and Forbearance

Loan deferment temporarily postpones your payments. To qualify for student loan deferment, you need to demonstrate financial hardships or prove that you’re having trouble finding work.

If you meet specific eligibility requirements, your federal loan payments can be deferred for up to three years. Depending on the type of loan you have, the federal government might even pay the interest on your loans during the deferment period.

Forbearance also puts a pause on your loan payments. However, the interest will continue to accrue during this period. So your balance will be higher when payments resume.

Situations such as unforeseen medical expenses could qualify you for student loan forbearance.

Speak to Your Employer

Your employer might be willing to help you repay your student loans. Just speak to the owner or human resources department to learn about your options.

The percentage of employers helping with student loan repayments has recently increased. The percentage doubled from 4% to 8% between 2018 and 2019.

Consider a Career Change

Certain jobs in the following categories may qualify for loan forgiveness:

Government

Law enforcement

Nonprofit

Healthcare

Law

Public education

Military

Volunteering

Veterinary medicine

So if you’re looking to change jobs, a career in public service could qualify you for loan forgiveness in the future. Just make sure you continue to meet all the requirements to maximize the value of the loan forgiveness.

Student Loans Can Be Reduced

Student loans don’t need to be a burden forever.

There are several different ways for your student loans to be forgiven or canceled. Check each program to see if you qualify.

For those of you who don’t qualify for loan forgiveness, review the other options. Even if your loans don’t qualify for a forgiveness plan, you can still get temporary relief or lower your monthly minimum payments.

Student Loan Forgiveness: What You Should Know is a post from: I Will Teach You To Be Rich.

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