#i cannot tell you how much seeing these comments on many influencers infuriate me

[hiskidsarerunning]

Pretty simple. I’ve been thinking about this issue for a while. In my first hearing of all this I became frustrated because, from my experience, aggression towards the aggressor doesn’t normally yield successful results (in response to the violence occurring throughout the protests). I thought so because I’ve been fighting control for a long time and I’ve exhausted my methods and have hardly begun to yield successful results through it. I want BLM to succeed. I spoke out strongly against my lil powerhouse-of-a-oppressor until my face turned blue and, after much wear and tear, I just ended up having a mental breakdown instead. So I wondered, how would this do the trick in teaching the oppressors how to treat the oppressed? The way we treat others teaches others how to treat us—if they have compassion/empathy. But hang on—I talked to my friends and remembered that it’s not about what’s happening but, rather, why it’s happening and it’s incredibly important not to lose sight of this. I also see it as being monumentally important to delve into the meaning of why it’s happening. In order to do so, however, it needs to be a philosophical discussion. It needs to be a discussion with the very people involved, of course. And it needs to be a discussion regarding our mental health and our use of power. I know this notion isn’t exactly profound—this idea’s been circulating forever with very little breakthrough. What I’m saying isn’t exactly news. This very government was initially founded on the idea that no branch should have access to a high percentage of power. The same goes for the people under the control of that government. Since those people are not performing their duties properly/ethically, it is our duty as a larger crowd, with more power by number, to take this power back. It is also monumentally important for us to understand every feeling coming through this process, assessing what those feelings mean, and then moving forward together in acknowledgement of those feelings.

First I’ll begin with a story. For the past year I lived in an apartment downtown. I didn’t know two out of the four roommates before I moved in. I didn’t know that the next entire year would be absolute chaos and anguish to the point where I spent most of my time away from my house so I wouldn’t have to deal with it. C (I won’t reveal her actual name) was a problematic roommate and over the course of the year I experienced abuse of power in a new and extensive way. She locked the ac/heating system so we couldn’t access it, would send aggressive messages, would frequently take things away from our use (took all her dishes away), would behave disrespectfully to us as we would enter/leave the house (scowl/make rude comments), tried to charge us for things we didn’t buy, and kept most of our security deposit. At some point towards the end of our contract/rental agreement, my roommate decided to apply for a position as a sheriff. All of us were mortified. Thankfully, the sheriff’s department decided to check in with all of us first through interviews/questioning to see if she was, what I assumed to be, stable enough for the position. There were a lot of extensive questions regarding whether we would trust her with our life, how she treated power, if she could delegate or resolve problems efficiently, etc. We finally thought we would receive justice because of the way things had played out and the fact that we were now being asked about it. All of us answered honestly. The sheriff’s department thanked us for our honest responses. To our surprise, she started training a week later. That’s when I realized that our statement was probably effective in conveying how much power she had over us and whether she could use it—not how she used it/whether she used it correctly. I feel absolutely infuriated that something like this is able to happen right in front us. Ladies and gentlemen: this is your so-called justice system. Not exactly just. Powerful, yes, but not just.

This position is given to those who have a sense of power/have control over others. My position/responsibility is also given to those who have a sense of control or power over others. It’s very possible to abuse my position—I can teach people what to think and I can tell people what to do with it. I can technically abuse my power and brainwash hundreds upon hundreds of generations on what to think instead of how to think. I could indoctrinate my own agenda very easily. I could move people around, punish them, and remove them from the premises and I can even do that because I have enough rage and frustration, due to past experiences, to back it up. I take this into consideration every single day I’m in my field, and frankly, I’m terrified. I have high anxiety and frequently feel like I’m going to break down due to the pressure of it every day. I’m surprised I keep it together but this doesn’t come without recognition and effort. If our law enforcement doesn’t go carry the same weight or hold the same sense of responsibility, then they aren’t eligible to hold their position. It is important that as a teacher, I use my position of power and influence not to take away but to give. It’s my civic duty to give a voice to people. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had friends voice to me that they feel like their voice doesn’t matter/why should people care what they think? It absolutely breaks my heart to hear that. It breaks my heart to know that people think that their voices or opinions have little to no influence or importance on this society—in sharing their triumphs/happiness as well as their sadness. Even on a platform such as this, for entertainment and connection, you see through this BLM movement just how much your voice matters. It doesn’t only matter that you raise awareness to the cause—your individual experience in this matter matters so much. The movement isn’t about facts and numbers (though they’re responsible for giving it more validity for naysayers) but rather a very old thing that we frequently dismiss as being unimportant: feelings. Feelings are what make us human and it’s when we feel like they’re not listened to/unimportant that we start feeling a little less human.

The concept of “control” isn’t foreign. I grew up with people who fled from control in their homelands and sought refuge in this country. The way that it works is pretty simple: someone will use anything that benefits them to try to get one over you. Racism, ageism, religious affiliation, ableism, sexism, wealth…it’s all the same (power) but the name/excuse has changed. Those who are insecure about their own position will attempt to gain control through another source that guarantees power/supposedly cannot be challenged. Control isn’t logical (which, unfortunately, means that the intended audience will have little to no interest in reading this), it’s about having the upper hand and keeping you in your place. This will be done with various threats, commands, punishments, arguments, instilling confusion, etc. I know from having been dealt this and from having dealt this out myself. Takes a moment to recognize and you know when you’re doing it. You won’t feel better because the person in front of you won’t (again, if you have empathy) or people around you will tell you. Is someone giving you ultimatums? Control. Did someone physically threaten you? Control. Is someone playing games with you? Control. Commands? Control. I’m gonna take a slice out of this conversation to bring you into an even more nuanced form of control: ambiguity. We don’t have all the answers to life’s questions, of course, but if people make you feel like you need to question your own mentality and you actually do and then the results you yield from this new mentality are problematic…Yeeeeahhh. That’s control too. Leaving people to doubt themselves is also a mental tactic in gaining control. Not all control comes in obvious forms. Again perhaps this was all astonishingly obvious and if it was, good! We’re on the same page for sure. Not all control is bad. Control is necessary, to a degree. It’s necessary in maintaining peace and order but it’s most effectively established through respect. You find a way to equally respect everyone and boom—you’ve got the honest-earned control and order that you seek. The end of this essay will come to a conclusion/resolve but the matter of the fact is that the world will not so easily come to the same.

Look—I know that it takes a couple steps backwards and a lot of dark memories to acknowledge our own faults. I know that I used to be stubborn (not all stubbornness is bad though) and problematic because I wanted control over what I felt was out of my control. That’s why we seek to gain control and, sometimes, that’s why we do it in such horrendous ways. Sometimes we don’t realize we are because our own friends and entire systems that surround us make it out like it’s okay. Sometimes they do it because they’re scared they’ll lose something if they don’t. Wham. That’s privilege (affluence/support) and entitlement (the green light to continue on with what we’re doing) for you. A small scale and more personal example would be when we talk badly about someone else and have our friends nod to us because they “deserve it” and are “mean”. People do that for us because they’re good/validate us to make us feel better…not because we’re off the hook. Them doing so doesn’t permit us to turn off our internal commentary/release us from responsibility or blow off that from others who don’t validate us. That’s why, personally, I like to listen to both perspectives—not only the ones that validate me. If I sought out or only listened to views that encouraged my own, then I just wouldn’t understand or know how to deal with a world very different from my own. Then, when faced with that world, I would lash out like a hostile and fearful animal. Been there, done that. When you enter that world, you substitute familiarity with control in order to recreate your comfort. That’s how we got here. Some people were validated, repeatedly, until they no longer were and when they weren’t they became scared/more violent. Me writing “they” makes it sound like it’s someone else. It could be you. I encourage you to take a look around and recognize the patterns of affirmation around yourself. For starters—if you generally feel like you can do most things you want/have a problem with people who tell you that you can’t or even people who make you feel like you can’t, then you’re there. Being there means it’s time to tune into the critics—inner and outer.

[petitalbert-blog]

Albert’s Magical Library #7       

Witchcraft Today - Gerald Gardener (1954)

Odd, messy, maddening history of witchcraft and its revival - with a very unreliable narrator. Completionists only.

Spurred on by @judd051 comment that Valiente's account of the rebirth of witchcraft isn't necessarily accurate, I made this my next read. Gardener isn't as fluid a writer - it reads like a first draft History is the art of interpretation. Solid facts are few and far between. Good history consists of taking good evidence and explaining how it forms a narrative. Bad history is Witchcraft Today: a jumble of un-sourced history, pseudohistory, surmises, guesses and facts. In history class, you learn how to analyse sources: who wrote this? Why? Are they reliable? Are they biased? Were they writing at the time? What experience or expertise did they have? This is a truly maddening book, which tells you far more about ideas current at the time and ideas Gardener wants you to believe than actual history. Gardener is an unreliable source. He takes as fact many sources which have since been disproven - Margaret Murray, and some Da Vinci Code level ideas about the Templars. He is very credulous - at no point in this book do we see him reflecting on reliability. For all that Valiente's conclusions could have been wrong - at least we see her, within her own book, asking questions like “...but what evidence is there for this?”, and willing to debunk ideas held by those around her. This book presents Gardener's key belief - that the witch trials were distorted views of a surviving ancient Pagan faith, which exists in an unbroken lineage to the present day, which he was initiated into. I've mellowed a lot on this viewpoint since reading more primary texts. Young Albert thought it was bunk. Older Albert thinks there are grains of truth in all three, but these grains have been taken out of all proportion. I think it's plausible that non-Christian nature faiths and folk witchcraft traditions existed in Tudor times, although most people persecuted as witches were not members of that faith, nor was it one unified Religion as we would understand it today. I think the survival of witch customs in local history and families is undeniable, although I think claims to long lineages are unlikely. I think Gardener probably was initiated into a cult involving others, from which he built his own traditions. How you feel about the book will rely heavily on how you feel about these ideas. Still, aside from that, he also believes in some right shit. He still believes in one, universal religion which unites the Greeks and the English and pretty much everyone. He believes that vodou looks so similar to European Witchcraft because it is wholly based on it, rather than the more sensible view that folk faiths and trad crafts and spirit traditions have organically grown up along similar lines (he shows limited understanding of how African continental traditions were the root of African diaspora religions, and limited enthusiasm for the idea that Black people have created their own religions rather than simply copying from the whites). He thinks legends of fairies and elves come from the real existence of a race of pygmies living in the Isle of Man. All these horsecrap ideas are presented as fact, and they are certainly of interest to Wiccans and scholar/librarian/research types as they reveal the ideas and influences on Gardener as he developed his Craft, ideas which continue to influence Pagan/Occult traditions today. And there is such a grab-bag of ideas that doubtless, some of it will run near to the craft you do - there's an especially strong focus on witch trials and folkloric witchcraft throughout, which trad types will like. But you can't mistake any of this for serious history. Above all: whenever Gardener has a question about contemporary witchcraft, he says “I asked my witch friends and they told me...”. Is this concrete evidence that yes, Gardener was initiated into an unbroken lineage of witches? Or is it self-promotion, invention to bolster up his claims? Are “my friends say...” really another way of him saying “I think”? How could we ever tell? When Valiente writes about Crowley's influence on the original rites, she writes that she thinks Gardener copied bits of it. That seems plausible. When Gardener writes about out, he assumes the position of a historian asking “now why are these things so similar...? How interesting!", and comes to the conclusion that Crowley was initiated into the witch cult and was inspired by it. I don't trust him one jot. Despite my misgivings, this book is its best when Gardener is talking about the present day.  The last four chapters are pretty riveting. “My friends tell me that...” WHO. WHO ARE THEY GERALD. Still, here are all these snippets about what the New Forest Coven was supposedly doing, and they are all strange enough to have a ring of truth. They're just too weird and incomplete to be made up. I want to sit him down and demand more details. There's a lovely description of where the legend of witches turning into animals comes from:

I have asked witches what is the origin of the story of their turning into animals. To them it is only a joke; but they have memories of confused stories that at times they would play sorts of games, much as children do. If they were going across country, for instance, they would say: 'Let us go as hares,' and try to imitate hares running; or as goats, butting each other, or as deer; and there is a suggestion that in the burning time they were told: 'If you see anyone behaving as an animal, they have become an animal. If questioned, say you saw no man, but only a hare, or a goat, etc., because if you simply lied and said you saw no one they might know you lied, but if you said you saw some goats, and believed it, you had the resemblance of truth, even under torture.'

He also recounts some ideas about reincarnation, and specifically the need to placate the gods so you will be reincarnated back into your tribe, that I've genuinely never encountered before. I remember “Some Wiccans believe in reincarnation” from geocities, but this is the first time I've seen specific ideas about reincarnation written down, and they are very peculiar and unique. I appreciated reading his from-the-horses-mouth explanation of the gender polarity in Wicca - original Wicca was imagined as exclusively covens of male-female romantic couples, or two singles, as romance would inevitably blossom between them. The implication is both that a romantic/sexual connection is crucial for magic, and that cannot exist between two men or women.   This is such a love-to-hate book. I'm glad to have read it, and I will definitely revisit the last couple of chapters for ideas in future. All the same - I fundamentally don't trust a word that comes out of his mouth. So much of it is so clearly inaccurate or lies that it's then hard to evaluate any of it as true. It's infuriating, because Gardener clearly has a lot of information and I wish I knew what in here I could trust. Fascinating, but for completionists only. 

[writingismyhappytime]

Good Little Witch (Part 7)

Angelo Parente x reader ​​​warnings: language, smut, extreme violence and torture, magic, mention of human trafficking

"You've never had a waffle?"

"No"

"But they're so good! Did they not have waffles when you were human?" You demand, pressing your fork into the waffle on your plate and dragging a torn piece through the ocean of syrup you have on it.

"Unfortunately no."

"Do you want to try a bite?"

"I cannot consume human food." Angelo isn't even looking up from his papers where they're sprawled across the kitchen table. You sigh, propping your chin on your hand as you eat your breakfast, despite its eight at night. Hanging with night creatures has your schedule messed up already, you haven't seen daylight in ages.

But it doesn't bother you.

You'd never cared much for the sun anyway.

"You'll go into a sugar coma with all that syrup," Angelo says after a moment, studying some paperwork in Greek, and you roll your eyes as you lean back in your chair.

"It's good if you'll try it."

"It won't taste good to me. My body doesn't need food anymore," he turns a page obnoxiously. "As you're well aware of what I feed off of."

"You make yourself sound like a parasite."

"Some would call demons that."

"You're so infuriating," you grumble, reaching for your glass as you hear him chuckle. He squeezes your knee, your legs criss crossed in the chair, feet bare as usual. You hate wearing shoes and you won't if you don't have too.

"Jeez, you two look cheesy right now. Are the kids going to come by in their Sunday best and ask daddy for a kiss?" Horror sneers as he enters the kitchen, seeing the two of you sitting so cozily at the table.

Both of you roll your eyes.

"What do you want?" You sigh, grimacing as he pulls a chair out, plopping down. You're sitting at the end of the table, Angelo on your right. Horror now sits at your left, looking curiously at your plate.

"Angelo never answers his phone so I have to come visit. If you two would stop fucking all the time I wouldn't have to come over."

Your cheeks pinken, and Angelo half-grins, finally glancing up from his paperwork.

"That wouldn't be any fun then, would it, brother?"

Horror sighs. "Whatever. I'm just here for a status update."

"Ah." Angelo stacks his papers, dropping them against the table a few times to make sure they're even. "So far, you've sent me three werewolves and one Mikaelson, so I say we're doing well for just two weeks."

"They're remarkably easy to find," Horror remarks, watching the syrup drip off your waffles. "Cocky humans. What is that you're eating?"

"It's a waffle. Why does no one know what a waffle is!?" You frown.

"A what?" Horror looks perplexed, sniffing at the sugary scent of maple. "I've never heard of such a thing."

"Neither had Angelo." You mutter, reaching for your glass again.

Horror tilts his head, black hair spilling down his shoulders as he reaches for your fork.

"Don't do it," Angelo warns him.

"I just want to look at it," Horror assures, poking at the yellow bread covered in thick syrup and melted butter. It smells amazing --- his mouth is literally watering!

"Richard ---!"

You blink as Horror pops a fork full between his lips, hearing Angelo sigh.

Horror gives it a moment, then his lips pucker and he turns a terrible gray color. You watch in surprise as he throws himself from the table and to the trash, immediately emptying his mouth.

"I tried to tell you." Angelo shakes his head  "You can't have food anymore."

Horror whimpers, his stomach cramping painfully.

He misses food so terribly!

"it smells so good!" He whines, his voice muffled as he shudders, head hanging low over the trashcan. "Why can't I?"

Angelo rolls his eyes, and slams his hands against the table, making you nearly jump out of the chair in alarm, your heart suddenly thundering in your chest as your head whips around to look at him.

Horror sighs, shoulders relaxing as he catches a whiff of your minute fear, just enough to make his stomach stop hurting.

"Thanks," he mumbles, raising his head to see you flailing indignantly at Angelos shoulder, not pleased in the least.

"Don't use my emotions to feed your idiot brother!" You hiss, making him chuckle as he rises from the table, lifting your plate up in the process.

"it was that or listen to him whine, streghetta mia. I'm saving you from the torture."

Horrors still gray as he crawls back to the table, nauseous.

"Can a demon die from eating human food?" You ask curiously, absently pressing your hand against Horrors forehead, feeling it cold even for his kind.

"No. It just makes them very Ill. As Richard knows."

"Stop calling me that!" Horror snaps, frowning as you feel for his temperature. "I'm not a human anymore!"

"As you just remembered."

"Why don't you like your human name?" You ask, dropping your hand.

"Because it doesn't make him sound as scary as 'Horror' does," Angelo answers, sitting your plate in the sink after he tosses it's contents into the trash. "No one is afraid of someone named Richard."

Horror silently seethes.

"I don't know, people have been afraid of Richards in the past," you say, feeling a little bad for Horror; everyone seems to pick on him an awful lot.

"Like who?" Horror asks, reluctantly curious.

Uh.

Fuck.

Um.

"There was.... Richard the third, a king of England," you say. "He was, like, Hardcore. Shakespeare even wrote a play about him and stuff. He murdered his nephews and stole the throne and a whole bunch of other... Diabolical things."

Angelo makes a face at you behind his younger brothers back, but you ignore him.

"Really?"

"Yeah, look it up," you nod your head. You can't remember anything else about the king, and you highly doubt Horror will ever look it up, but maybe now he wouldn't feel so bad.

Although why you care how he feels you're not sure. Maybe it's because you can tell he's trying to prove he's just as scary and lethal as his brothers, that he's as tough as they are. He has a lot to prove and live up too, but you're sure he instills terror in many people.

He's a fear demon after all, that's what he's good at.

"Angelo has some people in the dungeon if you need to go get your fear tactics on," you offer, ignoring Angelos miffed expression. "That might help some."

"Yeah," Horror perks up a little at the idea. "That'll help."

He hops up from the table, breezing out of the room and towards the dungeons.

"I was saving those people," Angelo pouts from the counter, crossing his arms. "You can't let him have all my things just because you feel bad for him, (Y/N)."

You roll your eyes as you get to your feet, stepping over to him and pressing your hands against his warm chest.

"You didn't need them anyway, they've been down there a week." You tell him, kissing his chin. "Plus he's sick and needs a pick up."

"He can get one somewhere else!" Angelo scowls, reluctantly letting you kiss his jaw. "I hand picked those!"

"Then pick some more later," you murmur in his ear, tugging on his hands until they curl around your waist. "Don't be grouchy."

He groans in frustration, giving in to you as your lips close over his firmly.

He can't even be irritated with you, you're under his skin too badly.

Dammit.

.~~~~~~~

"She's not so bad."

"Hmm?"

"The witch," Horror says, relaxing in Angelos office as his older brother looks over some details for him. Horror isn't good with contracts, he never has been and always needs help. Angelo would have told him to fuck off, but when he'd asked for help, you'd told him Angelo would when Angelo most definitely didn't want too!

So now here he is, tweaking his brothers damned contracts for him.

"She's trouble is what she is," Angelo grumbles, marking through some lines with his pen and replacing them.

"Maybe. But you're in love with her."

Angelo tenses, sending his younger brother a vile look. "demons can't love, Richard."

"Yes they can and you know it! We still have human in us after all --- and Ghost is in love with Serena!"

"No, he's obsessed with her, there's a difference."

"Uh, no there isn't. He loves her, otherwise he wouldn't have given her his blood and run away with her."

"Richard, when she's old or her body rejects his blood, she'll die and he'll move on, forgetting all about her."

"No he won't. He won't forget her and we both know it."

Angelo scoffs, but he doesn't disagree. He knows demons can love, it's the only part of their humanity that remains. But he saw how mad it drove Ghost, and he most definitely doesn't want it for himself. Why would he?

But he's not in love with you, too much effort and responsibility goes into a commitment like that.

"Angelo."

"Hmm?"

"What's it like?"

"What's what like?"

"To love someone."

"I've never been in love," Angelo scowls, turning to glare at his brother.

Horror pays him no mind, his gaze absent.

"it must be nice," he comments. "Knowing someone cares about you so deeply they'd give their life for you, that they can't live without you and it's not because you're influencing them."

"Pets are just as loyal."

"It's not the same. Pets are loyal because you make them so, no --- if someone loves you, they do so out of their own free will, and they do things for you because they care. If you didn't care for (Y/N) you wouldn't let her get away with insulting you and telling people you'll do things even when you don't want too. Or play house with her."

"I've not played house ---."

"You totally were playing house this morning. You always do your business down here, why else would you be at the table while she's having breakfast? You totally care about her and you know it...you can't fool me."

"Because you fool yourself."

"No." Now Horror is a little irritated. "just admit you love her! What's it going to hurt? It doesn't seem like a bad thing!"

"love is a sign of human weakness, it makes a demon vulnerable and pathetic. If you love something, someone can take it away and break it. They can use it against you for leverage."

"But ---."

"Love is not something a demon should give, nor receive for that matter. You see how Ghost lost his mind."

"I thought you said that Ghost wasn't in love."

"He's not."

"But you ---."

"here's your contract." Angelo shoves it at Horror. "I've added what's necessary and fixed what I saw. Take it and go before I lose my patience!"

Horror sighs, reluctantly rising to his feet.

He wishes someone loved him like his brothers.

He has to admit he missed being cared about, having someone to fall back on in the rougher times. Ghost knows what he has, but Angelo doesn't.

Horror hopes he figures it out before it's too late.

~~~~~

Huh.

You've never noticed this spell before.

You sigh as you pace your bedroom, absently mumbling to yourself as you flip through one of your books.

How odd.

Has this always been in here?

You've had these books for ten years now, you'd thought you'd combed every page --- you just about have some of the spells memorized.

So how did you miss this one?

It's a common spell, but it's been altered, so you're not sure what the end result would be. Really, it looks like a spell someone in your family had been weaving together, and it doesn't look finished. It's just a few slips of paper tucked into the bindings, very slim.

You'll have to try this one day.

You sigh, glancing at the open windows of your balcony. You might sleep in Angelos room, but all of your things are still in this medieval princess room. You really do like his room a lot better, it's more open and modern. His bed is much firmer then your own.

You frown, setting your book down on the trunk at the foot of your bed.

Somethings off.

You know Angelo is downstairs with Horror, you can sense them, but there's something else ---.

You shriek in alarm, feeling a hand close over your mouth, arms dragging you back towards the open doors, the ----.

~~~~~

Angelo tenses, his eyes rising up as your alarm jolts through his blood, and he's moving before your scream even registers in his mind. He's already upstairs when he hears Horror moving, the demons rushing toward your bedroom.

Angelo flings the double doors open, inhaling sharply when he doesn't see you. He strides forward, still able to sense you and your fear. He steps out onto the balcony, clenching his hands as the moonlight spills over him.

The scent is one he knows well.

"Father," Angelo growls.

~~~~~

Where the hell are you!?

You stare, clenching your hands around the metal arm of the patio chair. You blink a couple times, gazing around.

Huh?

You're on a balcony overlooking some kind of city, and you swear that's the Eiffel tower in the distance. It's warm, you're surrounded by blooming flowers despite its night time. The table in front of you is decorated with thick white cloth, two glasses of wine and plates. The silverware gleams in the soft light of the moon.

What in the absolute fuck?

"I always like France this time of year."

You swivel, staring at the man as he approaches.

His hair is long and blonde, and you get the sense that he's powerful, more so then you've ever felt. You tense, gazing at his tan skin, his slim, elegant form as he nears you, carrying a single red rose in his hand. He lifts the petals to his nose, his eyes curious as he looks over you.

"The last time I saw you, you were bleeding out in that bedroom, Angelo looking ready to cry like his favorite toy was broken." He chuckles, offering you the rose. You hesitate, slowly taking it from him, careful of the thorns.

Who is this man?

No, demon?

How did he know Angelo?

And what did he mean?

"My name is David," the demon offers as he sits across from you, smoothing an errant wrinkle from the tablecloth with long, ringed fingers. His eyes are heavily painted, almost glittery, and you catch just the barest scent of... Hairspray?

You're confused.

Are you in danger or...?

"Your name is (Y/N), correct?"

You nod slightly.

"Mhm. But Angelo calls you Red --- is it for your hair or your temper, I wonder?' David gazes at you, propping his chin on his soft hands. "You're lovely, you know. Witches tend to be --- until you lose your magic. You're lucky you draw it from the blood and not the air, it means you won't run out like the others of your kind, why do you think they're so afraid of you? Oh, but I'm rambling, aren't I? Are you hungry, my dear?"

He nudges a menu at you. "order whatever you like."

What.

The.

Fuck.

You stare at the demon like he's insane, wondering if you've hit your head or something. You look around uneasily, wanting Angelo --- why did this demon take you? What does he want from you? How the hell did he get past all the hell hounds!?

"You look confused," David sighs. "I'm not surprised, I've been rude. Angelo is my son, you see."

Oh.

"has he explained anything to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Ah! You do speak! I was beginning to wonder." He smiles at you, but it's not one you like. You lean back uneasily, clenching your hands against the arm of the chair again. He's bad, you sense that deeply, but at the moment he doesn't appear to mean you harm. In fact, he's attempting to be gracious.

"Angelo is my son," the ancient demon repeats, batting long, dark lashes at you. "Everything he has is also mine; I control his hellhounds as we share the same blood line. His blood is my own. Can you sense him searching for you, (Y/N)? He's quite frantic. You mean much to the poor boy."

You frown.

You know Angelo doesn't get along with his father, and you wonder if it's because of the patronizing manner.

"He'll find me." You say, knowing it's true.

"of course he will, he has your blood. As long as it's running through his system, he'll always know where you are, always be able to control you." David reaches casually across the table, and you tense as his nails run down your arm. "Did you know that the blood he's taken from you is still your own? You could control Angelo if you wanted, make him do your bidding whether he liked it or not. The power of a blood witch is incomparable."

"I --- I don't want to control him," you pull away from his touch, your skin crawling. "We have a business arrangement."

"Yes, I know what you have. I told him he was foolish, but he is in love with you."

Your eyes flick to his face.

What?

"Demons can love, we're part human. I have another son who found love in one of his pets, Devin. It's a little bit of happiness for our kind, yet also a curse. I expect Angelo will suffer heartily for his attachment to you." David chuckles, sounding like the idea thrills him. "I can't wait to see him ache over you."

Your eyes narrow.

"You don't have to be such an asshole to him, you know." You can't stop the words.

"Mhm, finally some temper! Do you love him too?" David's curious. "I try not to meddle in my son's affairs, too  taxing, but this has taken my interest. They all grow up so fast." He sighs, leaning back in his chair. "If you care for him so, I expect he'll be happy with you then. Until you die, of course. Many, including my kind, don't tend to like blood witches for the power they have over all of us. One little slice of your skin," the demons eyes light on your throat, seeing you swallow, "and the damage you can do is world ending!"

Right.

You find you don't like Angelos father much either.

"What do you want?" You ask finally, tired of his incessant ramblings. He makes you uncomfortable and you want Angelo.

"just to chat, away from my son. It's hard to have an intelligent conversation when he's near. All that anger and adolescent hormones." David shudders. "He's impossible. Perhaps you'll have better luck with him then I, little rose."

You resent the endearment.

You clench your jaw, hating the way he keeps studying you. He obviously doesn't care for Angelo, his own son, and you find you don't care for him at all. It pisses you off a little how much of a dick he actually seems to be.

Who the fuck does this guy think he is, anyway!?

"Are you sure you don't want anything to drink? Some wine, perhaps?" He quirks a brow at you, lifting up his own glass. "I cannot drink, of course, only sniff." He sighs. "I did enjoy my wine as a human."

Ahuh.

Fuck this guy.

You glare at him as you rise to your feet, not about to waste another moment in his presence. You'll find your own fucking way back if you have too.

David watches you in amusement. Yes, Angelo picked a strong, fiery spirit to contend with. You'll be good for his second born, he can sense it. David took you to make sure his son wasn't endangering himself, getting in over his head and potentially risking it being chopped off --- but if you care for Angelo as well, perhaps it can be avoided.

David might not like his second born, they might not see eye to eye, but he doesn't wish him harm.

Much.

"Angelo will be here in a few minutes if you wish to wait," David says lightly, the moonlight glinting off his sharp teeth. "He's not wasting time finding you. I've only had you an hour and he's already in the city. It means he cares."

"I'm not surprised he thinks you're the biggest asshole there is." You say, crossing your arms. "What's the real reason you drug me all the way out here?"

He grins, leaning back in his chair again, studying you.

"The family you fear so deeply reached out to me. They think I, of all creatures, will do their dirty work and dispose of you so they don't have too. I can only assume they're reaching out to all my sons. And I know Christopher is most displeased with your presence." He says it so lightly, you're not sure if you should be concerned or not. "I thought I should say something, finally get to meet you when you're not unconscious and bleeding to death."

How... How did he know...?

You stare at him uncertainly.

"FATHER!"

You wince, turning at the angry bellow. The balcony doors of the restaurant fly open, the glass quivering in its frame as Angelo storms out onto the terrace, Horror on his heels, blinking.

"Hello, boys. My, Richard, you're so grown up now!" David grins at his sons. "She's got you both under her spell, hmm?"

"Angelo ---." You turn to him.

"Don't you fucking come near her again!" Angelo snarls, his eyes flaring black as his hand wraps around yours, jerking you to his side. "or so help me I'll ---."

"It's okay!" You say quickly, knowing better then to let him finish they threat. "Angelo, calm down!"

"Yes, do calm." David sighs. "You're too temperamental, just like your mother. Always with the tantrums! We've just been chatting!"

Angelo glowers at him.

Horror shifts uneasily, staring at the father he hasn't seen in centuries. David didn't raise him, didn't teach him about his powers or coach him through the difficulties of coming into his demonic heritage, so Horror really doesn't see him as much of a patriarch.

Christopher raised him.

So really Horror feels he has no loyalty to the blonde demon.

"Let's go," you urge, squeezing Angelos hand, nervous. David's made his point, that you're not safe even in Angelos home, as if that wasn't obvious enough to you. You don't want a fight between them, you're honestly not sure who would win.

But you don't want Angelo to lose.

"Come," you murmur, softening your tone. Horror is hovering anxiously by the terrace doors, and you can see the patrons inside peering and whispering at the dramatic scene before them. "Let's go back. It's alright."

Angelo is completely still beside you, his hand holding yours so tightly you can't pull away; it hurts, but not enough to bother you. Your fingers lightly stroke his sleeve, brushing his cold skin, and you can see the black start to recede in his eyes.

There.

Much better.

"Let's go," you say again, slowly leading him away from the smirking demon holding his glass of wine. "Back to your dank ass castle, hmm? With your weird hypoallergenic dogs."

Angelo frowns. "hypo what?"

"I'm allergic to dogs," you shrug, managing to distract him long enough to get him inside the restaurant,  elevator music playing above. "Yours don't bother me. So hypoallergenic."

"That's... That's not...."

"Horror," you glance at him as he trails behind the two of you, looking a little lost. He hesitates, then darts forward to press the button for the elevator, listening to your soft murmurs to Angelo.

He's never seen anyone calm or control his brother like that before, it's almost scary to watch.

~~~~~

"You're lucky, Angelo," David sighs from his relaxed position in the terrace chair, gazing at his red wine in his hand. He knows his sons can still hear him as they travel down the elevator, although you cannot. "You can feed from a witch forever, unlike Ghost, who will break when his little pet dies. Cherish her while you have her, son. For even witches lose interest in their pets."

~~~~~~

You sit on the edge of the bed, watching Angelo pace back and forth across his bedroom, his eyes as black as you've ever seen them.

He's not saying a word, which you find even more unsettling then when he's ranting. He seething, you're waiting for the smoke to start curling out of his nose.

"Angelo, everything is fine."

"He had no right to take you!" Angelo hisses, clenching his hands, sharp nails biting into his skin. "To touch you!'

You sigh, leaning back on your palms. You can sense his fury, his frustration almost like it's your own. You don't question why, you already know you and Angelo have a connection you can't explain, or understand.

You just figure it's because of the blood.

He runs his hands through his black hair, brushing the straight strands from his eyes repeatedly. He's not going to run out of steam, not any time soon, although you can think of a few ways to wear him out.

You don't say anything, just stand, breezing past him. Your fingers brush his lower back as you pass, drawing his attention. His eyes follow you into the bathroom.

Hmm?

What are you doing?

He stands completely still as you step into the bathroom, frowning. You trot towards the tub, and lean over, turning the hot water on as you glance at him over your shoulder.

This might help.

Angelo turns, his eyes drawn to you as your fingers curl around the bottom of your shirt, slowly drawing it up and over your shoulders. He watches silently as you undress, your long, dark red hair spilling down your bare back.

God you're beautiful.

You shimmy out of your tight jeans, Angelo leaning against the doorframe as more of your curves are revealed to him. His eyes run down your lower back, the tips of your hair brushing the bare skin.

"You want to join me?" You ask casually over your shoulder, crossing your arms over your chest, in nothing other then your panties. "It's always better to relax in the bath."

Angelo swallows.

He lets his gaze run over you again, memorizing every pure inch of your skin. He doesn't make the decision consciously, he just finds himself moving forward, pieces of his clothing falling off as he goes.

You chuckle, turning toward him, your warm fingers caressing his chest before you take his hands, drawing him towards the large, porcelain tub, steam rising from the clear water.

The heat doesn't bother you, and you doubt it will him. His hands close around your hips, his lips parting as they find yours. You sigh into his kiss, your hands rising to cup his scruffy face.

Angelo doesn't want to lose you.

You take a step back, curling one finger beneath the hem of his shorts, tugging them downward. He lets you undress him, eyes mildly curious as you both stand there, completely bare.

You shoot him a smile before stepping into the tub, motioning him to get in behind you.

Angelo never uses the tub, it's more for looks then anything else. He doesn't have time to relax, a shower is all he gets most days, running his little underfunded smuggling ring. Most times he's constantly on the phone, but he's been neglecting it in favor of your presence lately.

He just... doesn't find an interest in work now. He doesn't wake up thinking it about it, how he's going to move his new product, where it's going to go.

He wakes up thinking about you.

He steps in behind you, barely able to feel the heat of the water as he settles, water already trickling over the rim of the tub.

You draw your hair over your shoulder as you sink down into the water, leaning back against him with a sigh. His arms close around you, his lips nuzzling your ear.

This is... nice.

Angelo hasn't relaxed like this in a long time.

"It's nice, isn't it?" You say, your knees peeking out from beneath the water as you curl them too you. "Just to sit, relax for a little bit. You work too much."

"I would grow bored if I didn't." Angelo murmurs, letting his eyes close as he kisses your damp shoulder. "I have a short attention span."

"But you have a long vengeance list?"

"Mm, yes. I tend not to let things go."

"It's that why you're still after the werewolves?"

Angelos eyes open.

"It's wouldn't have bothered them if they would have left me be after getting their girl back, if she's not on the registry then she was a mistake, someone didn't do their job correctly. It happens."

"You keep talking about this registry, what is it?"

"The registry is a list of names. Everyone born in the world is cataloged into groups, no matter who or where they are. Those on the bottom of the list are people who... well, disappearing would not be an issue for them. I tell my employees to strictly follow the list so incidents like with the shifters aren't a problem."

"That's awful, Angelo."

"It is what it is. The world is a harsh place, red, it doesn't get better. My brothers found their own niches in the world, smuggling just seems to be mine. I don't discriminate by what kind of product, I wouldn't make money that way."

"Is that all you care about? Money?" You shift slightly, unhappy. Your eyes follow your hair where it streams beneath the water. You don't like what you're hearing, you know what it's like to be forced to do something, to be trapped in servitude.

You can't help any of the people taken, but that doesn't mean it doesn't give you a sick feeling over what happens to them.

"No," Angelo murmurs, tightening his grip around you. "Money means nothing to me. I just like winning. I like getting what I want, when I want it, with no one to stop me."

"You sound like an asshole."

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm a demon."

"Trust me, I've noticed. And so far all demons tend to be complete fucking dick heads."

Angelo chuckles, his lips curving into a reluctant smile. "A valid observation, Red."

You roll your eyes.

You can sense his amusement, how content he is to be around you.

"Hey, Ang?"

"Mmm?"

"Why can I sense you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, like... I don't know, it's weird. Sometimes I can tell how you're feeling, like if you're in pain or not. Pissed off."

Uh oh.

Angelo hesitates, his hands tightening against your stomach beneath the water.

Did he accidentally give you his blood? When you'd been dying? Or are you just that strong you can sense him because he's taken yours?

No, no, it must be his, he doesn't think that...

"It's the blood," he finally says, shrugging. "That's all it is."

He can't tell you about his blood.

"Oh... it's weird."

"You get used to it. I can sense you as well."

"You can?" You flush.

"Mm. I can sense your emotions, how you feel, where you are, because I took your blood. It's how I watch after you," he nuzzles your neck. "So when you're happy, or sad, or aroused...." His hands lightly draw down your stomach, and you bite your lip as one presses between your thighs. "All of it I feel."

"So you know when I think you're an asshole," you breathe, closing your eyes as his fingers cup your sex, feeling his smirk.

"Mmm. Yes. Among other things."

Right.

Your eyes ghost closed as his fingers draw down your skin, caressing your body. You're not sure if it's the heat of the water or just him touching you, but you already feel warm.

Angelo kisses your neck gently, his skilled fingers toying with your clit, causing you to shift.

"You're too good with your hands," you murmur, lifting your arms and curling them behind his neck. His free hand cups your breast, water making your bodies gleam in the soft lights.

"I'm good with many things," he murmurs, his teeth lightly scraping your skin. "I think you know that by now."

Oh yes.

Yes you do.

You exhale heavily as his fingers slip inside of you, your muscles contracting immediately, thighs drawing up as your body heats, skin flushing.

Angelo enjoys your soft gasps, how your breasts arch into his touch. He rolls your nipple between his fingers, pinching and tugging just enough to cause the mildest of pains.

Just enough to get you going.

"I'm not the only one enjoying this," you finally moan, and he grins, knowing you can feel how hard he's grown, his cock pressing against your back.

"You know you want to cum soon," he murmurs. "I can feel you clenching. You want to cum with me fucking you?"

Your legs jerk, causing water to splash over the side of the tub as he pinches your clit, your nails raking against his scalp as you tense helplessly.

You don't have a defense against Angelo, not when he's controlling your body like this. All you can do is allow him to have his way, to enjoy the pleasure and pain he gives you.

The tight ball of nerves in your stomach, the overwhelming heat that leaves you panting and moaning --- no one has ever made it feel so good, so powerful.

Just him.

And it'll probably always just be him.

"Angelo!" You gasp, and he groans as your pleasure sweeps through his system, a flood of heat in his blood. You moan, your body tensing and shuddering against his. Your thighs clench around his wrist, and then go lax as you gasp for breath.

He loves pleasing your body.

He intends to do it for a lot longer as well.

Tags: @isaxhorror   @lucifersnudes )@allthepeppercorn. @iknightwriter. @miss-mcbotty.  @my-gothic-doctor @smuttypariah

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[cosmic-poetics-livity]

PSYCHOLOGY TODAY

10 Tips for Reducing Anger

A cheat sheet to the cutting edge in anger-management

Posted Jan 15, 2015

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Source: wikimedia commons

The following is a partial distillation of ideas my colleague and I have more fully exposed in The Anger Fallacy. They're in no special order, except perhaps in as much as the first should probably come first. Some, admittedly, only touched on here, may require some unpacking (in particular 6, 7 and 8); but for those of you who cannot access the book, I'm happy to answer questions and to respond to comments!

1. Understand that anger is a problem

If you’re not convinced of this, then anger management tips will go right over your head, like sex tips aimed at Tibetan monks. How is anger a problem, you ask? Surely it’s healthy, and useful to some degree...?

Anger is unhelpful in a number of ways, but there are a lot of commonly used arguments that I won’t bother with: ‘Chronic anger will give you a heart attack.’ Yeah, OK, whatever. So will smoking, and stress, but it’s years down the track. ‘Anger’s not nice; people don’t like it’. 'Um... that's the whole point', you might respond! You may not want to be a 'nice' person; and you definitely don’t want people to like it. ‘Anger doesn’t feel good, it makes you unhappy’—sure, but presumably you already know how it feels, and it hasn’t stopped you yet. No. Anger is a problem first and foremost because it is an ineffective way of operating in the (social) world, can occasionaly backfire, and ultimately ruins relationships. At its core, anger is an evolved intimidation strategy. The most publicised instances of anger occur in war zones, in traffic, and in hotel lobbies. But surveys tell us that approximately 80% of day-to-day anger actually occurs with family and loved ones whom you care about (by definition). These aren’t necessarily people you wish to bully and intimidate. Actually, anger is much less effective in getting people around you to behave ‘correctly’ than, say, heart-to-hearts, cajoling, incentives, or calmly stated assertiveness. And even when anger does have the odd pay-off—your husband remembers to lift the toilet seat or your housemate turns the music down—it comes at the cost of warmth and intimacy, and tends to come back to bite you (in the form of defensiveness or escalation mostly). Just about every bit of research out there suggests that having warm (non-angry) relationships is the key to human happinessand emotional wellbeing. So this is no small cost.

2. Monitor your anger

I strongly recommend keeping an anger log over at least two or three weeks. You may be surprised at what it reveals. As well as raising insight, it can help you to take a detached ‘observer stance’ with regard to your anger. Monitor any and every episode of anger, from fleeting moments of frustration or impatience, to extreme rage. For each one, note down the facts of what went down (neighbour’s dog still barking despite our asking them to deal with it); the intensity of your anger 0-10, where 0 = no anger, and 10 = maximum rage; any thoughts or images you were aware of during the scene (wringing the dog’s neck, keying the neighbour’s car, memories of the conversation you’d had with him the week before, etc.); any other feelings you may have experienced in the scene (e.g. anxiety, dread); and what you actually did (ranted to wife). This habit of systematically describing your angry outbursts is often all someone needs in order to gain a little perspective. Give it a whirl.

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3. Feel the anger and DON’T do it anyway

Anger interferes with problem-solving and good judgment, and makes you rash and rigid in your thinking. This is why even the most articulate person you know can be reduced to repetitious expletives when enraged. Ambrose Bierce, the American satirist, wisely remarked, “speak when you are angry and you will make the best speech you will ever regret.” While fear drives us to flee, anger drives us to aggress and confront. Anger motivates revengeand retaliation. Unfortunately, the best revenge is not, as a rule, to live well. Anger is a poor guide to happiness. Hence my counterintuitive advice to ‘Feel the anger and not do it anyway’—the flipside to the pop-psychology slogan. I would recommend you: go to bed angry (despite your grandmother’s advice); sit on the angry email for a day or two before sending it; walk away from a fight where possible; and seek advice from a (non-angry) third party before taking any hostile action. If you still wish to carry out these actions when you’re calmer, then go ahead. They may coincide with self-interest. But, chances are you won’t want to. In the heat of anger you’re likely to make decisions you’ll regret.

4. Watch yourself angry: the Federer cure

The angry are often proud of their anger. Even if they leave a scene having achieved nothing (such as giving the finger to a car that pulls in front of them), they often experience a warm inner glow of self-satisfaction as a result of their actions. They appear to believe they’ve just accomplished something tough, powerful and righteous. This is not, of course, how they are perceived by their victims, spouses,

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The man in the mirror

Source: Pixabay/ CC0 Public Domainor onlookers… And more interestingly, it’s not necessarily what they themselves might think if they could watch themselves from the outside while not angry. It's worth seeing or hearing yourself genuinely angry at least once in your life. If it’s difficult to catch yourself in a spontaneous fit of rage, it’s worth replaying an angry scene in front of the mirror. According to tennis great Roger Federer, who was a racket-smashing brat in his junior years, it was watching himself throwing tantrums on TV that put him off it for life.

5. Look after yourself

All other things being equal, the state you’re in as you enter an anger-provoking scene will influence the severity of an anger episode. If you are stressed, tired, sick, hungover, agitated, or in any kind of emotionally compromised state when you encounter an annoyance or provocation, then your response will be magnified well out of proportion. So it's worth being on the lookout for such factors. I’ll unpack a few of the most common culprits:

Alcohol abuse is the most common co-morbid condition of patients presenting with anger problems. The recent king-hit murders attest to how vicious a combination alcohol and aggression can be.

Fatigue and stress would have to come next: 96% of Aussies wake up tired, according to a recent sleep survey conducted in my hometown. Fatigue shortens the fuse. Get some rest!

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Other known anger exacerbators include unmet needs or drives (hunger, thirst, lust, etc.); sickness; pain; and, no surprises here, PMS.

Reducing background variables is a good, easy start in the fight against anger. Get some sleep; take some time off; streamline your week; delegate; relax; improve your diet and so on. In short, look after yourself. When these things are unavoidable, then I believe awareness that you’re in a compromised state can be half the battle. Being stressed and tired might make you more irritable when the kids are fighting in the back seat; but insight that your state is a factor might help you realize they’re not entirely to blame. It might also be a reason to put off that phone call to your father until after you’ve had a nap and some alone time…

6. Understand the ultimate source of your anger: SHOULDING

Most people believe that it’s other people’s behaviour that makes them angry. Your son is texting at the dinner table; that just is irritating; and anger ensues. End of story. The problem with this oversimplified model is that it doesn’t explain why the other people at the dinner table aren’t irritated by your son’s behaviour (your son first and foremost of course). It doesn’t explain why something can annoy you one day, and not another. I can remember in my twenties being genuinely irritated by people who used the word ‘disinterested’ when they meant ‘uninterested’; I now think this is a ridiculous and snobbish reaction. There’s no single event that reliably angers everyone all the time. And there’s no single event that never angers anyone any of the time. Insisting on paying the bill might insult a date; but letting them pay might be an even graver offence. Then again, depending on the person, they could just be chilled either way. A cartoon depicting the prophet Muhammad may infuriate some individuals, and amuse others, depending on their position on the matter. I was sharply upbraided by an old man the other day for eating a mandarin near him on the bus. I remember thinking, ‘now there’s a first’. But it shouldn’t have surprised me. You don’t get angry because of external events alone, but because of how you appraise those events. Anger always involves framing behaviour as ‘wrong’—not-as-it-should-be. The man on the bus thought my eating a mandarin was inappropriate—disrespectful perhaps; of course most wouldn’t have this appraisal, but he did. If your son’s phone use at the table annoys you, it’s because you hold that family members ‘should’ engage socially at the dinner table. Your spouse mightn’t necessarily have that expectation, and nor might the boy’s siblings, quietly watching TV out of the corner of their eye. Anger is shoulding.

Positively fuming with righteous indignation

Source: wikimedia commons

7. Become less judgmental

If anger is driven by internal rules of how others ought to behave, this makes it a very ‘self-righteous’ emotion. But if you can see some of your rules for what they are —‘just the way I was brought up’ or ‘my way of doing things’—then it will naturally seem silly to judge others for not following them. It helps to remind yourself of the many different ways in which humans around the world operate. In many parts of Asia, it is considered rude to enter a restaurant with your shoes on; in most Western restaurants it is considered rude to take them off. Who’s right and who’s wrong here? We’d say there’s no answer to this question: they’re just two different sets of rules. You may believe it is wrong to smoke marijuana; many Jamaicans would disagree. You may object to homosexuality or women in politics or lovers kissing on public benches. There’ll almost always be someone who agrees with you, and others who staunchly oppose you. That’s because these things are matters of opinion, not fact. Must people work hard and strive to reach their fullest potential, or is a breezier, more spiritual life acceptable too? You probably have opinions on these things, which is fine. But if you walk around convinced your opinions on how people must behave are right and universal, you’ll live a restricted life, as well as an angry one.

8. Think like a scientist, not a lawyer

The angry speak a lot about the bad ‘choices’ people make, and what people ‘should’ or ‘shouldn’t have’ done. Logically speaking, if you believe someone should have acted differently, you must believe they could have acted differently at the moment of performing the (mis)deed. But being the person they were and seeing things as they did, there’s only one thing they ever could or would have done. To do something else they would have had to have a different brain and held different beliefs. If you can get your head around this, and make a habit of explaining people’s behaviour rather than simply condemning it, then you will be a good deal wiser, as well as calmer. We strongly suggest replacing ideas of ‘responsibility’ and ‘blame’ with those of causes and solutions. This is essentially what scientists do—they try to work out the causes behind events. You may shake your head rather unsympathetically at your uncle’s gambling problem. But a scientist asks, ‘What causes this person to gamble?’ The answer to this question will be complex, and will potentially involve factors from his personality, beliefs, knowledge base, mood states, physiology, as well as from his upbringing, environment and culture. This is very different, mind you, from saying it’s right or good to gamble, or from resigning yourself to someone’s behaviour. Taking a scientific explaining approach rather than a moralistic blaming one makes people’s behaviour more understandable and as a consequence easier to influence. And of course once you understand the causes of a behaviour, there’s nothing left to get angry about. You see its inevitability. And all that remains is a problem to solve.

9. Empathise

Empathy overlaps somewhat with ‘thinking scientifically’, except that it’s more intuitive. Empathising means living in the skin of someone else. It is an antidote to anger, because it’s hard to condemn someone if you really understand where they’re coming from.

Anger almost always involves an inability to get the person you’re angry at. It stems from a failure to understand them. This is why so much anger is expressed verbally in statements of apparent astonishment or perplexity:

Why the hell would you do something like that?

What’s gotten into you?

How could you ... ?

I can’t believe this!

What was she thinking?

These, incidentally, are actually very good questions to ask yourself in earnest when you're angry, but people only ever intend them rhetorically (and pejoratively). Often, interestingly, the people we profess to find the most perplexing are those closest to us, whom we'd be best placed to empathise with. A couple I saw recently was fighting over domestic chores. As it turned out, the husband liked things to be clean and hygienic, but was relatively oblivious to tidiness; the wife needed things to look neat and orderly, but didn’t worry that much about dust or germs. Each thought that their own standpoint was sensible, and that the other person’s was entirely neurotic. The truth is: neither of these viewpoints is silly or hard to relate to. They simply reflect different concerns or priorities. Most of the time it’s not so much that individuals can’t relate to one another, it’s that they just don’t: they’re blinkered by their own point of view and place more importance on making their own points than on understanding others'.

Some of you may have seen the televised argument between Ben Affleck and Sam Harris on the heated topic of the dangers of Islam. Affleck blatently misconstrues his opponent's point of view. Harris attempts to explain himself, but Affleck feels he's heard enough. He's too angry to listen. Interestingly, Harris, in a blog after the event, rather than retaliate, writes that he gets where Affleck was coming from: "If I were seated across the table from someone I “knew” to be a racist and a warmonger, how would I behave?" This is another case where making the effort to understand the other person’s viewpoint can diffuse anger.

10. Get your facts straight

Angry people often display a bias toward interpreting others’ behaviour as hostile, deliberate, or nasty, even when they lack the information to really be sure. They’re occasionally right, of course, but very frequently they’ve gotten something wrong, or taken it the wrong way. The simplest first step in reducing your anger is to take a moment and make sure you’ve got all your facts straight. Are you sure the acquaintance who passed you by really snubbed you and didn’t just not see you? Can you be certain that your wife’s forgetting to pick up the milk was really a personal sign of disrespect, and not just an oversight? Are you positive your neighbour is playing that music just to spite you? Is it really fair to say that so and so is always late, or that such and such never does anything nice for you? Are you sure you've understood your opponent's position? If you aren’t positive beyond a reasonable doubt, why not suspend your judgment, pending further evidence. Innocent until proven guilty. This little habit alone can save you a lot of unnecessary grief, or should I say grievance.

[spliceyblues]

"I don't understand it's just a DRINK" "Let them do what they want, it's not a big of deal to order some pizza" "It doesn't hurt anyone"

Yes. Yes it does.

Money that you are willingly and consciously giving to these pro Israel companies... Even when knowing they're on the boycott list.

The more funded to Israel, the more blood you hold on your hands.

Hear their screams. Don't look away. Listen to their cries for help.