#nobody talks about these two anymore. free real estate‚ baby!

[torchickentacos]

So was nobody going to tell me May gets three roses* before she even wins her first ribbon, or was I just supposed to find this out through the archived version of those old bulbapedia ship articles that I found?

*the third rose is technically AFTER she won her first ribbon, but it's still the same episode as the ribbon obtainment, so close enough

[hasliaran]

Undertale is owned by Toby Fox

Sooner or Later You’re Gonna be Mine is written by Staringback.

TimeHealsTale - Still a WIP by me.

Meet my undertale OC from TimeHealsTale which is an AU living rent free in my head. They are a canon MC that replaces the real Sans (age 5) after he got dumped into a tub of Void by Gaster to be forgotten.

Name: Comic Sans Du Font (Comic/Komi)

Age: 22 (5 years younger than canon Sans and 8 years older than Paps)

Job: Monster Healer that does House-calls. (Not a Judge; Sans disappeared because he was a Judge)

Profile in Game: Toriel’s Contact, The Smuggler, Summon Healer (after befriending; limited to 5 calls (diff. work phone no.); rapid calls will assume it’s a prank and not be picked up for a certain period of time.)

This is not her usual outfit but I just really wanted to post it.

In my head, the scene goes …

- she fell into the void trying to pull out a deformed still 5 years old Sans when she was going through her father’s stuff in his lab dungeon. (Occurred after the barrier broke)

- Sans was in a mega huge test tube floating in pitch black Void essence (frozen in stasis as no time passes through Void), so she couldn’t see anything or knew he was inside. Only after she accidentally tipped it over, smashing it to pieces, when trying to push it out of the lab that she realised there was an effing toddler inside it.

“Dad, seriously?” Comic got fed up already with the mess her father left behind after he got scattered.

- Cue her trying to grab the kid out of the muck only to fall in and be dropped down into another universe with the little one.

(Yes, this is the multiverse travel scene excuse and I love it)

Back then, Sooner or later your gonna be mine just uploaded a new comic chapter on YouTube. Hence, my brain went overdrive and said it’s a free real estate. So, I imagined the duo getting found by the skeleton brothers before the story started from rumours of them pillaging around trash sites, random food thefts and small skeletons offering up to do odd jobs.

Other skeletons than them, huh, curious.

Them skeletons in that story was already huge as heck though, now imagine a five a year old and a roughly five foot skeleton with a slight build running around what was essentially a mob era in the 1920’s.

The first thing that would go through their thick skulls was KIDS, THEY ARE KIDS, WHO HERE F***ED AND DIDN’T USE PROTECTION ?!

So much shenanigans from just trying to chase them down. ^_^

In the end, Komi and Void/V (little Sans; Komi’s not that creative at naming) were lured in by food, an offer for a roof over their heads and warm baths. Yep, tragic.

Little sans doesn’t look like a sans anymore here but a mere smooth skull shell with two big eye sockets and nothing else. I meant that literally. No lips or teeth as those were melted away and a pitch black body with stumps for legs. (look at Hollow Knight; Ghost but without the horns and has smoothen out round cheeks at least. I love that game.)

The last thing he remembered was that his aunt (step sister actually but he knows her as auntie) giving birth in the Underground Hospital and his uncle (Gaster) pushing him into a tub of black liquid, watching him drown.

And now he can’t talk since his lips is sealed shut.

Moreover, someone with his name who looks like a lot like his auntie and a bit like his uncle was dragging him around somewhere. It’s hella weird and confusing and he can’t cry properly. (Yes, HK reference here)

Yes, there is a story here for the duo that will coincide with SoLY’reGBM. Mostly, with Komi claiming Bara Sans courting skills were lame as hell no wonder Frisk ran screaming. This happen only at the time they were all comfortable enough to diss each other. Still, she and V were treated like sassy annoying younger siblings.

One’s assumed to be a teenager another a preschooler. So both were admitted to schools by force and with threats for Komi by Gaster since he didn’t want them in the house 24/7. Also to just enjoy the fact they have money now to send someone in their place to experience school. Papyrus here loves it that someone gets to experience and tell him all about while also not being the youngest in the family anymore.

Komi, in hindsight was 50/50 about it. Hating the idea at first before going, huh, maybe it’s not so bad… Hence the outfit up there. ^

She only has been to pre-school when her mother was alive and nothing else since, Gaster, her father, deeming it useless and only had been homeschooled by him. As much as you could call being locked in a room and told to read/answer these sheets of questions or not she’s never allowed to feed Papyrus as homeschooling activities. It happened in a period of when she was 10 - 14, so Paps would be 2 - 6. Damn well, she learned to memorise and spit everything out like a photocopier.

Seeing the Gaster in this universe sorta freaks her out. Making her wait to be ordered and when she doesn’t gets the order or the orders were just a pat on the skull and be told to behave, nothing else. She will proceed to look at him funny only to realise that oh, this is not dad. The three brothers can see that gal there has been through some shit and it’s not the fun kind. This also makes them question whether they should let them go back to wherever they came from, and that’s a whole other bag of fish to fry.

Komi knows they are a mob family, accepts it because hey her dad had a dungeon where he cuts up humans and eats SOULs for breakfast so why not this?

Only to find out they are pretty nice for a family and was this what a family suppose to be like? She liked it.

Komi with V/Void -, I will protect you my new baby brother that I have adopted at first sight with my body and SOUL. Which she does, she was raised with her Papyrus who was always aimed at gunpoint by her father. Basically, a rinse and repeat cycle situation in her eyes. Only to find out that no, nobody was out to get V!

She felt so gosh darn free in this universe but felt as though she was missing something all the time.

Yep, her found family from back home. So, definitely gotta get out of here somehow.

While also going to high school and befriending your adopted uncles’s enemy’s niece. Fuku Fire. Definitely not telling them what she did. They are gonna get so pissed.

Fuku - I have befriended the cool kid that’s not afraid to talk back against adults and was already a pro in home economics, who is also a skeleton Monster, meaning from a rival family. My parents and Uncle *pedo* Grillby must never know.

Comic will also be going through the motions of life here while figuring out how V’s powers work to send them back home and be getting a supply of Uncle’s favourite mustard since he’s been bitching about it every day by now.

He and Gaster will most definitely never know.

Nah, they know. Comic is a freaking blabber mouth that tells everything to this version of Papyrus just like she does in her own universe. Confirmed, she’ll be outed within 3 days by Paps and a fight about who she befriends was not their business.-at Gaster - who then sees it as an opportunity. Which leaves her storming out yelling they are all the same. Gaster and her Gaster.

Shit goes down that day, and everything went A-okay. Komi would make attempts to not overlap her father’s image over this guy because really, this Gaster is the farthest thing to her dad that’s a centuries old psychopath craving the secrets of the multiverse who would instead have not let her run out the house unscathed for yelling nor talked through things with her when she was brought back.

Darn guy was pretty nice.

Sans and Papyrus of this universe : who are you and what have you done to our brother?

G: What was that?

S&P: Nothing. S: (mutters under his breath) bias piece of sh*t

Then there’s that scene where they now got a new area to govern. Komi and V finds it weird but okay. *shrugs*. It felt like they were going to govern their territory or something. Sounds like basic Royal Guards one-o-one shtick her middle bro’s and friends’ kinda work. Seems simple enough.

It was not simple. I repeat, it was not simple.

G: No, we do not have to patrol the area.

G: No, we do not do shifts to monitor criminal activities.

G: It’s just an area that we will get a claim to.

G: But I need the humans here to be comfortable with Monsters, so I am going to let loose Papyrus on them. Since, we also have you two as well. Feel free to interact with the Humans. Tell me if anyone gives you three any trouble, Sans and I will personally deal with it.

S: wut? Yes? Yep, whatever he says goes. Better listen to your elders, brats.

P: Really, Sans?

C: So-, you want us to help around with the people in the area? Like charity work? Give free food and all that?

G: (how did she jumped to that? but otherwise, she’s not wrong.) … Yes-, that. Feel free to use your green magic on them as well if you have to but only when necessary. I don’t want you to suddenly disappear because your own loose lips.

C: Alright. (Does an excited fist pump) This is gonna be awesome~! …. Heyyy, did you just-

P: And I will be sure to guard them. (No arguing here from the other brothers)

V: (pouts and hand signed) N-O-T—B-A-B-Y

P: (could only stare at this being that barely reaches his kneecaps) Of course, little one.

All I know is, all of them are sassy sarcastic shits and there’s way more to be continued here.

So byeeee~

[lordraveondagooseofdolallytap]

THE ROAD TO DOLALLY

 THE TRAIN TO DOLALLY

 I assert ownership of this work

David Kitchen

April 14TH 2020

 Doolally Tap

Origin and definition adapted from Collins English Dictionary

Slang:  Out of one’s mind

In full: Doolally Tap

Word origin: C19. Original military slang from Deolali or Devlali, a town near Mumbai, the location of a military sanatorium and the Hindustani word for fever, tap.

 A debt owed

Every fourth Sunday, more or less, for ten years. That’s how long it went on for. A four hundred mile round trip beginning after work on a Friday evening and completing back at home on Sunday around six. I was glad to do it. She had been the best of mothers and it was time to pay some of that care back but I am no angel and cannot say I was wholly selfless or always ungrudging…but it would have been unthinkable not to have made those journeys.

And that ten-year span took her from a badly rheumatic old lady, with much left of what had been a very good mind, all the way to a cot chair, carefully positioned pillows, a ghoulish expression and the ‘lostness’ which is the most shocking thing. You greave in stages when someone has dementia, and by the time it comes to an end in death you are relieved. Or at least I was. That decade had been an ever-growing aberration of what she was.

There were midway points, such as when at the care home some of her self could be retrieved by a Frank Sinatra song or a baby’s photograph, but once a month was not enough and careless carers could not be bothered to make the effort as evidenced by the dusty, cobwebbed corner where these things were kept for her. That time was not the before and after moment. It was earlier when she was still at home, in her own house. It was one specific weekend and I can remember it clearly. Everything changed after that.

Friday evening

I got there Friday evening at about half-past ten. All the lights in the house were on but mum was up in her bedroom. She shouted down “who’s that?”

I answered as always, “Just me mam”,

And she would come back again and say “who’s that?”

And this time I would say “Just me, Ryan”.

“Oh love I’m glad you’ve come. It’s a long drive for you, get something for yourself. There’s ham in the fridge”.  

Indeed I was hungry, I’d had a McDonalds on the road but that was like nothing ten minutes after finishing it. I opened the fridge, and all by itself on the middle rack was a little plastic pack of boiled ham. Nothing like the meat we got sliced from the bone years before when I’d lived at home. I reached over but then withdrew with revulsion at the sight of a green-silver coat growing on the meat. The pack only had a couple of slices left. She must have eaten some that day. I did not want to look at the bread or think about her eating it.

My elder brother had remarked one time that leaving her after a visit had felt like leaving a toddler in the middle of a busy road. She paid for carers to call in four times a day to give her meds, help with simple meals and to get her washed and dressed. That was the theory but some of these angels of mercy skimped and rushed in and out doing the least of what they could do. I had witnessed this when they did not know I was sat in the corner. It left me sickened and angry. The only regular caring face was that of my youngest daughter who did mums shopping on a weekend and gave her time and love.

This home-care charade was a sordid carry on and my mother was fading through neglect. There was no way it could go on but she was refusing to go into a care home and was furious anytime the subject was broached, accusing me of trying to get the house and steal her money.

I felt this state as a great inertia. I could not go one way and she would not move the other and in the middle was this nightmare being played out. I had a job which paid barely enough to fund my situation: getting both daughters through university and doling out a sizeable monthly amount to my ex-wife and her lawyer. Something was going to have to give. If I moved back up north I would not earn two-thirds of my present wage and everything would come crashing down.

A month previously the police had phoned and said they had found my mother in the shop-door-way of a Toys “R” Us shop in the city at almost midnight. Seems she had set out to buy presents for her grandchildren and was found braying on the shop doorway and screaming at the empty place to be let in. It had only been a few weeks earlier that he Tetley’s Tea man had sold her a bedroom full of Easter Eggs and commemorative mugs. It was all going to pieces and there were disgraceful scoundrels around who were happy to prey upon her.

The house was getting a tatty look and the brown mark on that cushion might be shit. It felt much like sleeping over in a house without an occupant, a place that did not belong to anybody. I would do a top to bottom clean through that weekend and fix the garden up to an acceptable standard but nobody was really living here. Mum was just occupying the rooms. I got a half-drunk bottle of brandy out of the boot of my car and poured a full measure into a faded yellow Tupperware plastic beaker which my father had once kept his teeth in. There was only one proper cup left and that would be upstairs at her bedside. She liked to sip water during the night when she woke with a thirst.

I let the spirit do its work. Relax me after the drive, give me a dose of wellbeing and prepare for sleep. I texted my girlfriend and told her I’d got here and things were as awful as always and wished her goodnight.  

I had to break this inertia and do something. It was like a free fall.

 Saturday morning

The thin, scratchy, woollen army surplus blankets were still there on my childhood bed. Their feel was my first conscious perception of the day.

Quick wash at the sink then I walked to the Mace store on the estate and bought some breakfast supplies in. Got back to the house and made a tray of toast, orange juice and breakfast cereal but by then she was up and she had it at the table. I knew her mental facilities were at their best in the morning so settled on having the conversation I’d been stewing on right away.

“Mam, we need to have a talk about what needs to happen next. You’re getting frail and it’s time to go into a care home”. I am one of those people who cannot dress up a difficult conversation and if I was then she might have missed the point somewhere amongst all the fluff.

“What are you saying Ryan that I’m so old and decrepit that I cannot live in my own house anymore?”

There was a temptation to temper but decided against it-

“I need to talk to you honestly now mum, this is getting dangerous. There will be a fire or something and that will be the end of you”

“And I’d bet you’d like that, that sod of a brother of yours and you can’t wait to get your hands on this house and my money. Your bastards, the pair of you. Taking from your own mother. You ought to be ashamed and trying to dress it up as helping me. Well, how is stealing off me helping? That’s wicked.”

“I have got to be honest mam, this is probably one of the last times that we will be able to have a proper conversation. I’m not after your money or your bloody house or anything. I am only saying these things because you need taking care of.”

“Why do I need taking care of? Who do you think you’re talking to? I am not a child you can order about. So what is this big thing that’s wrong with me? Tell me that.”

My mind spliced for a moment and one half of it was thinking how well she had kept her verbosity when dementia was stripping everything else away at pace. She had been an English teacher maybe that gave her some kind of buffer: an extra resilience against the fleeing away of words I’d seen before.

I was pretty brutal. “Mam, you have dementia, you have coped well on your own since dad died but now we are at the point where you need care. I've got to start being honest with you”.

“How dare you say things like that? You bastard. You bloody bastard. Get out of my house. Sling your hook and don’t come back. I can manage perfectly well without people like you”. She was on her feet now and screaming the words.

I tell folk, and I am open about it. No one gets as angry as the grown-up children of a parent with dementia. Even though you know it’s not the ‘real them’ talking and saying things that sting and the not understanding on their part is not some spiteful refusal to understand. The rage was building up in me and so I moved across into the lounge which was one room with the dining room except there were sliding doors between them which I kept open. I sat in the threadbare high-backed chair facing across to where she was at the table six yards away. The curtains behind me were still drawn and the light was off so I was in the half-dark and I knew I would be effectively invisible in a minute or two. The best way of calming her was to become invisible and give her mind a chance to settle on something else.  So I sat still and watched whilst she munched on her toast and looked straight ahead but not registering me.

We can never truly know where we will end up, and that was probably for the best. How would it be if we did see such an end approaching?  All that life lived and encoded in the brain, stripped away and lost. She had been an exceptional woman whose life had taken her across the most extreme mental terrains and peaked in wonderful achievements, being given degrees, met prime ministers, won an elevated place in the memories of many hundreds of children but she was now someone trying to munch her toast sans teeth (they were always being lost) and so in danger of choking.

I thought it wise to get out in the garden for the morning and be yet more invisible. By lunch, it would be safe to come back in again. The memory of what had happened at breakfast would only last a few moments but the emotional weather in her head would linger.

There was a drizzle and in a normal situation I would have put the garden work off for another day, but now was the only option as tomorrow I would be heading back home. It was early spring so I gave the grass its first cut of the year, cut back on some overgrowth in the bushes and pushed bulbs into the ground. By 11.30 I was sodden to the skin and caked in slimy clay mud. I sneaked in the house and got a bath, went down to the high street, did her shopping and then got us fish and chips for lunch. That would shift her mood.

When I’d got back she had retrieved the ham and bread out of the bin and was chomping away on a rancid sandwich. One could not stop all these things but still, I felt like a thoughtless shit. Why had I not got the stuff out of the house? She accepted a few chips though and with a neat sleight of hand, I removed the remains of the sandwich. House cleaning was on my schedule for the afternoon but decided Sunday morning would do fine enough.

I know what happened to old people when they went into care homes. The progression downwards would accelerate, previously home and familiarity had been an anchor, but when inserted into the strange ‘out of placeness’ of a care home…well, that would cut her lose from life.  Maybe in a year, she might be in one of those chairs with a swing across lap-table which incidentally restrain the occupant and stop them from wandering.Then sometime later there would be a cot like bed, pillows placed strategically around her, and there she would lay for months or years “in second childishness and mere oblivion.”

Saturday afternoon

She and I needed to get out somewhere nice for the afternoon. We settled on the choice of Ilkley Moor, just half an hour away in the car. I knew then and there, in all likelihood, this was the last time she would take pleasure in such ‘seeing of things’. Mum was happy at the prospect of an outing, the argument of the morning and its thundery mood all gone. We stopped at a tea hut in the car park of a spot known locally as The Cow and Calf, a great rock standing alone and splendid, yards from a towering rocky outcrop that had once reminded people of a cow with its calf, on the downside of an escarpment looking out over the town.

I helped my mother out of the car but her body had forgotten how to walk on sloping ground, so I brought the tea and cake to her in the car. She could not balance the paper plate on her knee or grip the plastic utensil so I passed the cake over on a plastic fork.

I took the car twenty yards forward so she could see out over the town and the Dales beyond. The drizzle had been pushed out by great swarms of windblown rain pellets coming in diagonally across the valley. The sun deflecting through every watery lens and making a wonderful show.

We stopped at a favourite baker under the old Temperance Hall on the way home and bought a few of her favourite things. Vanilla slices, ham off the bone, a small brown loaf and the special pork pies. Individual jellies and custard trifles. These had been our regular Friday treats, which it had been my task to pick up after walking from school over the Engine Fields.

Sat around the Formica topped table we were about to set about the Vanilla Slices when mum said. “Ryan, am I going Dolally Tap?”

I heard her but asked her to repeat it.

“I want to know off you Ryan if I’m going Dolally. Will you tell me”?

I thought about lying but just as quickly rejected it. There has to be a bloody good reason for not being truthful if someone asks you a question like that. “Yes, mum you have Dementia”, I hesitated and then decided to leave it at that.

Then she looked over and in her old way said “Oh bugger” and then carried on with her Vanilla slice.

I don’t know if it was the invigorating effect of going out or just the natural ebb and flow of her mental clarity, but I knew she understood what she was asking and what I said in reply. And it was back to what was typical of the old lass to accept my answer without fuss. I felt it very brave of her. Over the coming years, that moment stayed with me and became a kind of badge of what she was. By the next morning, it felt like the woman was already closing down. She either did not remember the conversation or chose not to speak about it.

Over the next weeks, I spoke to a Social Worker and arranged for my mum's admission to a dementia care home in Idle outside of Bradford, which in time let my mum down badly and all the things I expected happened even sooner than I imagined.

I’d got her there by saying we were going out for another ride but I think we both knew what I was doing. I won’t be hard on myself about that. I had to do what was necessary but I won’t dress it up as something it wasn’t.

More years went by till she reached the cot bed stage. A new care home took wonderful care of her and I cannot fault any of her time there. In all the fall into oblivion took ten years from first mistaking the radio for hearing voices in the wall to the last, very hurried but too late Friday evening drive up the A1.

The Road to Dolally

It’s always been my nature to quietly stew on things and then bring the stewing to a close with some gesture to myself. And then move onto the next thing. I don’t get to choose (at least consciously) what the full stop will consist of. It just sort of drops into my head then I feel released.

Two years after her death I woke up one morning and decided to go to Deolali in India and do ‘The Dolally Tap’. That needs two kinds of explaining.

Firstly, what is the Dolally Tap? When the British were in India they brought items of linguistic culture back home but did not spell them correctly. Deolali or Devlali was a permanent British Army of India camp about six (modern) train hours from Mumbai. It included a military hospital which treated soldiers evacuated in with dangerous fevers of one kind or another, which were as a group termed the Dolally Tap. Tap being Hindi for fever. Then the meaning of the words morphed with use by British army lads like my great-grandfather and came to be the words used to describe the act of going bonkers with the heat and boredom of the camp. The term evolved some more and became about mental illness, and by then the people who used it had no idea where it came from. Growing up in Yorkshire we learnt that there were two kinds of mental illness. Being balmy, equated to very odd and or even floridly eccentric behaviour, whilst Dolally Tap meant you were totally going off your head. It’s lovely how we used these words as commonly as we spoke about anything but never thought of whence they came.

So my mum, at the moment when she needed to ask about the fitness of her mind, opted for words she would have heard spoken, in childhood, by her grandfather. This was a woman who had gone all the way from mill hand, and cleaner to be an MSc in Education and a Head of English in a middle school, but when the time came she chose a homely word. I liked that a lot. It summed up the person she was. Some would have gone the full drama, or have hidden behind intellectualisation but she used the language of her home and where she started from. Her choice of words was a marriage of humour and dignity.

She liked to do things like that. Pass a binding rope between past and present, and the threatening and the funny. She did a lot of thinking about words and how they could best express something. At that breakfast table, she was asking if there was a cliff edge under her toes, and she would have certainly felt the fear of that potential fall but she chose a form which was so wonderfully brave.

So that’s why I went to Deolali/ Devlali. Of course, I added other experiences and visits to the trip: Delhi, New Year’s Eve midnight trains, Gandhi, Rajasthan, but at its core was the ride to, Deolali. I was making a statement of respect, remembrance and gratitude in my mind, and I hoped such actions would complete a necessary circuit and then I could go back home, and be content.

The odd pilgrimage started out from my little ramshackle hotel at 4 am. The man who manned the desk and all the other staff who worked in the small hotel were asleep across every surface in the reception area. The night clerk stirred himself and called a taxi that took me across town to the Chhatrapati Shivaji Railway Terminus. I walked the last few hundred yards from the drop off point but in the road as the pavement was carpeted with sleeping bodies including what looked like whole families with babies and small children.  

 India has ten types of first-class carriage but only one designated second class and the authorities take care to tell foreigners that the latter is not recommended. I took it anyway, in part because there was nothing else but also I could see orderly, comfortable trains at home. This was India and if one’s eyes are a school we have to look to learn.

 As expected it was standing only in Second Class and we were crammed like matches in an overfull box but at the same time, we were also an incrementally creeping mass that (irresistibly) pushed me toward the door of the traditional squat toilet where I spent most of the six-hour ride. I did have another view out between the legs of a hostile looking youth who had wedged himself tight within the four angles of the open door of the carriage. And indeed I videoed the parched, red dusty hills from that perspective as young women sang and somehow danced to the tinkling tune of their finger cymbals further down the carriage.

 I had once taken my mother on a rural bus journey in Swaziland, a small country in Southern Africa. We, the passengers, were similarly on top of each other for that journey. It was the intense, infringing, vivid, loud, brash and jarring unfamiliarity of our surroundings that was most upon her. I watched from sideways on as an old man with chickens and no teeth asked if she needed a husband and simultaneously a goat licked the space behind her knee and she shrieked a little and the lecherous suitor laughed well naturedly. She looked at me, grinned bravely and said she would never complain about the 55 Leeds bus again. That became our line about anything difficult from then onwards and I suspect it was the best bit of her slide presentation to her friends at the Wesleyan Methodist Ladies social. Her kidney stones had given her jip but she had conquered that bus journey and I suspect she would have done at least as well here on this train to Deolali.

 I stood at the open door to the toilet all the way, averting my eyes from the scene: men crouching over a hole set in a circular, inwardly sloping floor, whose contents spilt out and washing around the floor. Six hours of holding myself still and facing resolutely away left me with a tortured back and feeling like I could never move with ease again.

 It was a long train, and when we stopped my poor carriage was beyond where the platform finished. Most of my fellow passengers made off through the thick undergrowth towards a broken fence but I turned the other way and headed in the direction of the military checkpoint where a railway employee was checking the tickets and soldiers were watching out for likely terrorists. Nationally, tensions were up again about the dispute with Pakistan over Kashmir, and there had been some dreadful killings in recent weeks. As a military base, nearby Deolali, the camp had to be a target, and the security at the station serving it was understandable

 The soldiers waved me through. Eccentric Englishmen like me did not fit the profile of interest even if they were carrying an outsize rucksack on their back. Foolishly I had not considered the possibility of a military presence and it was not just on my platform. A machine gun was mounted within a nest of sandbags at the end of the next platform across and formed the third point of a triangle with a spot where I was standing.

 I had to find a clear station platform sign displaying the true name of the town, stand beside it and do a brief and discreet tap dance. It was plane though that such a thing might be mistaken, by the many soldiers, for a nervy suicide bomber about to detonate himself, so I risked being splattered by a machine gun or shot through by a lone pot shot of a soldier’s rifle. But not ‘doing the dance’, after all this effort, was unthinkable. Of course in more normal circumstances, when we are about to do something which might appear odd, we explain ourselves first. “Sorry, pardon me, I know this is going to look odd so am just quickly forewarning you that I am about to do a tap dance in honour of my dead mother. Please do not mistake this for a suicide bomber attack”.

 No that would not work. I walked to the very end of the platform hoping for inspiration. There was a trolley parked there stacked to waist height with brown, cardboard parcels. They would be sufficient to block the line of sight from the military checkpoint on my platform but would put me directly opposite the machine gun nest on Platform 2 which was just yards away across the first track. I needed something to block the view from there whilst I performed my dance beneath the sign next to the parcels. Then just like an apple might fall into your hand from out of a tree I heard the approach of a local train from my left. That was it, the timing would be crucial but it was probably a winner. Something which would legitimately block the view from platform 2 and allow me to perform my dance, if only from the waist down so the soldiers on my platform had no clue.

 And that’s what I did. I pretended to be a tourist filming the arrival of a typically overcrowded Indian train, and when the train draws level with me I pointed the camera downward and recorded a film of my feet doing a little tap dance for around ten seconds. The upper half of my body mostly but not entirely still. The men crowded at the windows of the train and hanging out the door and are watching me. They wave, and laugh and cheer and call things out I cannot understand.

 And that little dance in the shadow of a train in the station at Doelali closes my circuit. I can say “Bye Kath”, and now it’s all done and you are put to rest. 

The author is very tall and local people kept asking to pose for photos with him

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

Step On It - II

Alrighty friends, I have finally emerged from my hole of spotty-Wifi summer jobs to deliver the very, very overdue second part of Step On It! Once again, this was based on an idea from @mendeshoney​ and I’m so grateful for the chance to get to bring it to life. Please reblog and let me know what you think! 

Baby wasn’t exactly sure where it started, but somewhere along the line he had become not only the getaway driver for whatever crew Flint had put together, but was put in charge of getting everyone’s coffees before strategy sessions. And that term was used loosely; more often than not, it just consisted of everyone in folding chairs around some dusty table listening to Flint talk about whose jobs were what. Questions were almost nonexistent— Flint wouldn’t have hired someone who didn’t have the business down to a science. And he’d be damned if anyone had ever been able to get away with suggesting things should go in a different direction. You didn’t mess with the boss, and you absolutely did not mess with his plans. Nobody knew exactly how long Flint had been in the game for, and everyone was always a little scared to ask. Longer than Baby had been alive, definitely, but it wasn’t what he had always done. One of the few pieces of personal information anybody knew about him was that, before he had started the whole ‘freelance crime boss’ life, he had been in real estate. Commercial. 

So, needless to say, Saturday morning found him walking into Rooster Coffee House, popping one earbud out when his place in line reached the front. There was one morning, when he was running late, that he had forgone the usual small hipster shops he tended to try out and stopped at a Timmie’s. It was a mistake. When he had gotten back to the meeting house, Needles, one of Flint’s more volatile agents, had taken one look at the cup, grabbed it, and thrown it straight into the garbage can. Baby thought it was a little harsh; sure, the drinks wouldn’t win any awards, but he didn’t see an issue. Being fond of his own life and well-being, however, he had never brought that particular brand again, saving it for himself. 

“What can I get you?” The barista asked, not unkindly, but clearly a little caught up in the morning rush. 

“Uh, four,” Baby paused a moment, remembering himself, “five medium coffees with room?” He wasn’t sure why he worded it like a question. It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. He was ordering five coffees, not asking what artisanal roaster the beans were sourced from. 

The barista nodded once. “Name?” 

“Baby.”

He got a strange look, but he was used to getting strange looks. “8.75.”

Baby pulled out his wallet from his back pocket, fishing out a ten dollar bill and handing it over, dropping the leftover change into the tip jar. Two or three minutes later— Baby wasn’t paying particularly close attention— the coffees were up, nestled into a cardboard carrying case that he hefted into his hand before walking the four blocks to the warehouse. One hand holding the case, the other was tapping along to the rhythm of the new John Mayer album. Unlocking the door and swinging past the half-draped painter’s canvas still left hanging from the ceiling beams, Baby slipped into the main room. He slid a cup in front of each of the four other crew members present, taking the last for himself and settling in his seat towards the back—  Flint wasn’t a coffee guy. 

Baby didn’t want to be here. He wanted to be writing a new song, putting together another mixtape, back at the diner finally getting that waitress’ name, anywhere apart from the cold, dark, uninviting warehouse Flint had adopted as crew headquarters. And he really didn’t want to be sitting in the room while Flint described his newest heist plans, this one involving some kind of shipping or office supply store. It would have been more than a little out of the ordinary; these types of stores weren’t typically rolling in cash, but the manager of this particular place seemed to dabble more than a little bit in money laundering and fencing, and Flint wanted in. He always wanted in. Baby thought that he must have fancied himself a sort of Robin Hood, what with the whole ‘stealing from the rich’ act, but while nobody knew exactly what anyone did with their share of the money, Baby knew Flint wasn’t exactly known for his charitable spirit. It wasn’t like his duties ever really varied much. Get the crew there, stay where he was needed, and get them the hell out of there. Not much to it. The way Baby saw it, every job he worked was one closer to freedom, one closer to the day he’d never have to do anything for that man ever again. So he listened. He listened while Flint described how they’d pull up on LeTorneau, the crew— who this time consisted of Checkers, Wilson, Moose, and Angel (whose name was deceptive, she can and would go toe-to-toe with any of the guys on the crew) would go in through the side door, two would stand guard at the hallway, and the others would break into the vault in the manager’s office. Baby’s job was to loop around the block twice— exactly twice, no more, no less— and pick them up once it was all finished. If everything went to plan, it would take exactly five minutes and twenty seconds. And Flint’s jobs always went to plan. 

It was a day later, and Baby was slumped over in his car, head in his hands, having just returned from the warehouse and the job at the shipping store. A few stacks of bills were haphazardly stuffed under the passenger’s side seat, his share of the spoils from the day’s activities. With a weighty sigh, he glanced out of the window and recalled what Flint had told him as he handed over the cash. 

“This is the last of it,” he had said, still keeping half a hand on the stack of hundreds. 

Baby’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Flint withdrew his hand. “What I mean,” he said, somewhat exasperated, “is that this is it. You’ve paid it back. You’re all squared up.” And just like that, he walked away, leaving Baby with a million questions and exactly zero answers. 

So needless to say, it was all more than a little overwhelming. It was the first time in over five years that he was truly free from Flint’s grasp, that he was no longer under his thumb. It was incredible, it was liberating, and it was a feeling that Baby never wanted to forget. But it left him with a strange sense of emptiness. It wasn’t a life that he had ever wanted, and certainly not one that he would have chosen for himself, so in truth he was just overcome with a pervasive sense of confusion. What was he going to do now? What was he supposed to do now? It’s not like he really had any relevant job experience, and he was pretty sure that “Getaway Driver— did lots of illegal and ethically questionable stuff” wasn’t a good resumé builder. But he could finally work on his music, finally try to get some demos done and songs written without the looming threat of Flint’s next call hanging over his head. Baby clicked in his seatbelt, shoved the car into gear, and got the hell out of whatever parking lot he had pulled into. 

On the elevator ride up to his and James’ apartment, Baby commenced with his semi-regular rationalization of his behaviors. It obviously wasn’t a shocker that he didn’t want to be doing what, until recently, had essentially been his job. Every time he was sent out with whatever motley-crue cast of characters Flint had rustled up, he had to remind himself that he wasn’t doing this because he wanted to. He was doing it to survive. Baby had become something of an expert at compartmentalizing, somehow able to shut off the part of his life that was filled with making James sandwiches and writing music and getting lunch from pretty waitresses from the one consisting of guns and breaking dozens of laws and secret meetings in dark warehouses. It wasn’t something he was proud of— one of the most poignant memories he had of his mother was when she drilled into him the importance of always being himself and always being truthful to others— but it was something he had to do, or he wasn’t sure how he could function. As he closed the front door behind him, James turned his head towards him. Must have seen my shadow, Baby thought. 

Aren’t you early? James asked. 

Baby sighed, leaning down to the loose floorboard and throwing the last of the money under. They said I’m done. 

Done as in?

Done. Baby said, nodding his head for emphasis. I don’t have to work for them anymore. 

What are you going to do now?

He shrugged, noticing an empty cup for Rooster in the recycling can. Music. Try to get a job. Try to be normal. 

                                                        ---------

The next day, Baby woke up bright and early, walking to the library to print out a few copies of his resumé. It now said “Private Driver” and emphasized his people skills (which were, in actuality, pretty minimal). He figured that was probably a good move. After dropping it off at a few different places, he stopped back by Fran’s. Now that he was off of the crew, maybe he could finally get her name. 

Baby slid into a booth, grimacing when he realized that he didn’t even know if she was working that day. And he didn’t even have her name to ask. He fiddled with his phone for a moment before a voice interrupted him. 

“Back again?” It was her. Baby nervously sat up in his chair, running his hand through his hair. His eyes immediately flitted to her breast pocket, where a bright, shiny silver nametag was pinned. Rhiannon. 

“Yep, you know me. Baby. Not like I expect you to remember me, you’ve probably got dozens of customers every shift, I just thought—”

She cut him off with a laugh, a sound that Baby was pretty sure had just become his favorite thing in the world. “Hey, hey, Baby. You’re fine. Don’t sweat it, okay? I remember you, and not just because of your name.” He blushed, dipping his head and pretending to be looking at the menu. “So are you off from work?”

He tilted his hand from side-to-side. In a manner of speaking. “You could say that. I don’t work for the same people anymore, found out that the career,” he paused for a moment, “wasn’t for me.”

She scrunched her nose. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. Seriously. It wasn’t a great place to work, moreso one of those places where it just seems impossible to quit, you know?” 

“Only too well, tell me about it,” she said, huffing slightly. “So what can I get you this time?”

“What’s best?” 

She cocked a gentle smile. “Why don’t I show you?”

Rhiannon wasn’t sure if it was party of Baby’s strategy, but he always managed to come in right after the lunch rush had left and before the dinner crowd made their way in. Not like she was complaining, she had been borderline enamored with the gorgeous boy with the strange name since he wandered in a week or so ago. It was a stroke of luck that they had met in the first place, and let alone run into each other twice; Rhi only picked up a few shifts a week, the rest of her time was generally taken up with her studies. She was a psychology student at University of Toronto, with far-fetched dreams of becoming a trauma therapist. Far-fetched because success didn’t come to girls like her. She was from a small town in Saskatchewan, about thirty minutes outside of Regina, and she hadn’t even been out of her province until high school. Far-fetched because she had been raised by a single mother after her father had died in a construction accident when she was seven. Her mother did her best, balancing a full-time job at the only bank in town with raising her daughter, but there were things that slipped through the cracks. Far-fetched because out of her graduating class of 96, less than half went to college, and only a handful left the province to do so. Two to University of British Columbia, one to a college in California, one to McGill, and two to Toronto. Noel and Rhiannon has been close enough in high school— having a total school population of under 500 necessitated that— but had held onto each other as a sort of lifeline since leaving the lackluster and snowy confines of Lumsden, Saskatchewan. The two were thick as thieves since arriving in Toronto, living together their second year and into the third. Far-fetched because while her mother paid for what fees she was able and she received some financial aid from the school, there was still a gap that she had to make up. So she worked, she found a job that would give her a change, she came with a plastered smile three shifts a week and remained pleasant and apologetic to customers who couldn’t be ruder if they tried. Baby’s presence was a more-than-welcome distraction from the usual sorts of folks she’d get in the afternoon. Fifteen minutes later, she slid a toasted sandwich in front of him, piled high with Swiss cheese, sun-dried tomatoes, mixed greens, and what she was pretty sure was three separate types of meats. “People seem to like this one,” she said with a smile. 

“I’m sure I’ll love it,” Baby said. 

As much as she hated to leave him, Rhi still had other customers to keep an eye on, though in between trips to and from the kitchen window she checked her watch, praying that Baby would stick around for the thirty minutes until the end of her shift. Which he did. What she hadn’t caught was the fact that he had finished his sandwich ten minutes ago, but decided to wait for her, banking on the fact that her shift would finish at the top of the hour. He finally finished the last crumbs, leaving a twenty on the table, and catching her just as she emerged from the back after changing into her street clothes. “Hey, uh, Rhiannon?” He asked. 

“Mm?” 

“I was just wondering, if you, you know, have plans for the rest of the day? Totally get it if you do, just thought I’d ask.”

Rhiannon cut him off quickly. Too quickly, maybe? She wasn’t sure, but she didn’t want to be rude. “I don’t have anything planned, really. Have to do some grocery shopping, but that’s pretty much it. Do you want to maybe come along?” She asked hesitantly. Why would someone want to come along for her errands? She certainly wasn’t an expert on human behavior, but was nevertheless pretty confident that putting flour into a bag at a Metro was nobody’s idea of a great weekend. 

“That actually sounds great,” Shawn responded. 

An hour and a half and five bags of groceries later, Baby and Rhiannon sat in the front of her eight-year-old Honda, breaking into the carton of blueberries that they bought. They hadn’t moved in twenty minutes, and for exactly nineteen of those minutes, all Shawn had been thinking of was how much he wanted to kiss her, but there was no way she could catch on, there was no way he’d let her. Frank Sinatra played softly in the background — Rhiannon was a big oldies fan, he had learned — and the mischievous grin she had while trying to throw a blueberry into his mouth wasn’t helping the situation. 

She stopped a minute later, closing the container and reaching around to place it back in one of the many bags. She was looking at him, and Shawn couldn’t quite place her expression. “What’s on your mind, Rhi?” He asked, reaching out and tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear. 

“Tell me something about you that I don’t know. Something you wish I did. I know that you live with your foster dad, I know your folks aren’t around anymore, I know you’re a ‘driver,’” she said, adding air quotes, “but I know there’s something else. Something more.”

Shawn swallowed hard, leaning forward almost imperceptibly. “You want to know something, Rhiannon?”

“Tell me.”

“There’s nothing I want more in this moment than to kiss you.”

Her breath hitched. “Then what’s stopping you?”

[renlyisright]

Season 8 Episode 4 - ...And What Comes After

Turns out that the great price you get for saving the world is for the word to continue just like it was. I’m not sure if this is a positive message, but remembering what Ramsay said about the happy endings, it may have been the best thing to hope for.

It’s snowing here. The winter is upon us once again. Good thing that here it doesn’t mean mythological monsters coming with the cold.

In Westeros the monsters have been defeated, and the entire world is no longer under existential threat. Time to mourn the dead and celebrate.

Last time I didn’t say anything about Jorah Mormont’s death. The post was running long, and I didn’t want to write an eulogy because I wasn’t sure that he actually died. I have been wrong before. For example, Ghost did survive. If we saw him running back from the Dead I missed it, and so declared him dead too early. Turns out he actually was just out of the frame the whole time.

But Jorah. He had a backstory of having a bad marriage and ending up selling slaves (”Things we do for love”), and getting banished from Westeros by Ned Stark. All of that was in the backstory, told by him telling his story (and other characters mentioning the slaver part). Since it hasn’t come up much since the story was first told, it hasn’t been on my mind when watching the character. Jaime did his worst deeds right on screen, Jorah’s bad stuff was in his backstory.

Okay, there was that time he came to Daenerys’ service originally just to sell her to Robert for a pardon, but he regretted it immediately once the first assassin arrived, and has served only her since. He kidnapped Tyrion, with whom he had no personal grievance (until he had spent long enough listening to him), but wanted to buy a pardon from Daenerys by offering her someone threatening her crown. Ooh, nice parallel. And another: Again he was taking someone’s freedom to get something for a woman he loved. Then he ended up as a slave himself. Maybe the people he sold ended up in a similar situation. After that he was out on the fields searching for Daenerys, and after that searching for a cure for grayscale, so we didn’t get any comment from him about abolishing slavery that would have mentioned his backstory, and him having taken part of benefitting from the bad system they were removing.

But his slaving days were all in the backstory, and after seasons full of events that are themselves hard to keep track of (who was whose ally back then? Who betrayed whom? Did these two meet before and what did they say?), the events that happened long before the first episode seem less relevant. Daenerys has allied herself with every family that was part of Robert’s rebellion, except the Baratheons themselves, who are no more. Even the one Lannister who actually killed her father is now in her in-group. The historical reasons don’t matter narratively anymore, the important stuff is what people have done on screen.

After the smelly funeral and Jon’s speech of everybody having set aside their differences, it’s time for the afterparty. People drink, eat, love and Daenerys gives out titles she doesn’t have yet. I said that Baratheons are no more, but Daenerys gives the name to Gendry, and names him the lawful son of Robert Baratheon. If the “true heir”-hullabaloo of Jon and Daenerys doesn’t end up being a big enough mess, there’s that line back in business now as well.

Davos speaks with my mouth and complains to Tyrion about the Lord of Light. He told them to do what he said, they fought and died, and died, and finally won, and what now? Melisandre died as well and now he’s quiet. How do they know he didn’t plan everything this way and now Cersei has an easier job of killing them all? “I don’t imagine thinking about that subject will leave you any happier than before”, Tyrion answers. And I think that’s my cue to drop the subject too.

The first half hour is the celebration. The war is not over, but here and now, they are alive. The last episode is unlikely to end with even this sort of good feeling, or with this much time to spare for small moments, so better celebrate now. Some don’t get what they want, both Tormund and Gendry get their courting rejected, and Daenerys feels like an outsider, and that her queenship in Westeros has been poisoned by Jon’s revelation.

She wants him to promise that he’ll never tell anyone, and have Samwell and Bran promise it too. But Jon feels like he owes the truth to Sansa and Arya.

Why?

Like, I do like honesty, but at this point telling the truth benefits them absolutely nada, if you don’t want anyone to start thinking game-of-throney, and Jon absolutely doesn’t. If he continues to be Jon Snow, and marries Daenerys, and so gives her the public relation benefits of being married to the saviour of the North and leaves the ruling of the North to the Starks, who will be good allies because of Jon… what benefit is there in telling Sansa or Arya about his parents? Bran can tell them that he saw the past and Lyanna and Rhaegon actually loved each other, and never mention any baby which nobody knows about. Lying by omission can be done if someone’s hat is really ugly, and especially if saying it aloud could start another civil war.

So Jon goes and says it aloud. But before it he sworns them to secrecy. Which lasts for five minutes, and before the end of the episode Tyrion and Varys know about it as well, and start game-of-throneing the situation. Nice job, Jon.

The morning after the celebration, there’s a hungover war council. The list of casualties includes half of everyone. That actually sounds small, considering how small the last pockets of resistance were at the end of the battle.

News from afar tells that Yara succeeded and has taken command of the Iron Islands. No idea how, but Euron coming back after a long absence, only to spend his kingly time on Cersei’s lap and fighting her wars must have been one rallying point. It’s not like Yara has a much better track record, but if you raise your butt, your seat gets taken, that’s the rule.

And Dorne’s new prince has re-allied Dorne with Daenerys. Maybe this time they’ll actually come to battle. I doubt it, there’s no time and who is this “New Prince of Dorne” anyway?

The plan is to siege King’s Landing and tell the people that once Cersei is out, nothing bad will happen to them. Missandei’s point that they’ll get sympathy points for saving the world gets shot down, as people won’t believe them and Cersei can turn the tall-tales against them. Sure the maesters will believe once enough of them see the battlegrounds. There will likely be scientific expeditions to study everything about the battle, the Wall and the enemy, but to the good people of King’s Landing, what does it matter?

Or more importantly, the bannermen. If enough of them call it quits, Cersei’s rule ends there. But when she blew up the sept, they rewarded her with the throne, so I’m not putting much faith there.

The plans are made, Jon’s secret revealed and the army leaves soon. Before that, Tyrion and Jaime get a visitor. Bronn has come all the way up north to see them. He gives out a rant of how he has served the Lannisters, who promise a lot, sure, but that’s all he gets, promises and empty titles. I enjoy this Bronn, more of him please. No nonsense, no listening to “power resides where people think it resides”-speeches, in a couple of minutes he gets them to promise him the Reach. Another Lannister promise of course, their reputation for paying their debts has been overblown. I especially liked Bronn’s point about how the great houses all started with someone who was good at killing. “Kill a few hundred, they make you a lord. Kill a few thousand, they make you a king”. Having Bronn in the Tyrells’ old place would be sad, I’m not that sure how good he would be in the actual ruling, but at this point it’s whatever. Will they even live long enough for that to matter?

Arya and the Hound leave on their own, they both have “unfinished business” in the capital. The Hound is going to duel the Mountain, and Arya will try to take out Cersei. Which makes me realize: The allied side has a Faceless assassin, who has already managed to wreck the Frey house. Seems like the easiest option to remove Cersei without having to dig her out of the Red Keep. Arya could even play-act Cersei afterwards and forfeit the throne peacefully. Seems easy enough for her, why not try that first before attacking?

Because only she and Sansa know that she can do that. And they know how to keep secrets better than Jon.

Sansa and Tyrion have a talk. Sansa doesn’t trust Daenerys, but she doesn’t trust anyone that much these days. And she knows that Daenerys knows that Jon may be a problem for her claim. Sure they may wuuv each other, but in Sansa’s experience, that hasn’t stopped anyone from doing awful things. So she lets Tyrion on the secret. To have him notice in time if Daenerys wants to deal with the problematic claim with force? Or to have the idea of Jon being the better choice for a ruler, more electable, to simmer in Daenerys’ court member’s minds? That ends up happening, so points to her if that was her goal.

Daenerys’ coalition is so wide that it has problems keeping itself steady long enough to get a hit on Cersei. Cersei’s side doesn’t have that problem, it’s just promising the spoils of war left and right.

Farewells. Tormund says that he’s going to take the wildlings back beyond the Wall. “They need room to wander”, he says, and there’s a lot of free real estate there now. Jon asks him to take Ghost with him. So Ghost actually got the end I hoped for him; he’ll live out there in the wild, just out of frame. I’m happy.

As it’s very unlikely that the action will come back North anymore, this is the end of the show for the wildlings. Many, many, many of them are dead, but the people known as wildlings survive to populate their lands again, because of a) the gathering up that Mance led, and b) the trust they had when Jon came to offer alliance. Without either, Beyond the Wall would be a very quiet place now. Hopefully they, the Night’s Watch and the North continue to have friendly terms in the future, it would make the Night’s Watch’s job much easier.

Farewells to Sam and Gilly too. It’s not impossible that they’ll show up closer to the action later, people move fast these days, but this seems like a happy end for them too… Argh, what am I doing, I’m foolishly lowering my guard. That’s just when the alien hiding in the shuttle makes a jump scare. 

Still two more episodes, then they and I can be at peace.

Speaking of sudden jump scares, Rhaegal gets hit with one just when entering the Dragonstone air space. While Daenerys was off saving the world, Euron has been busy mass-producing the black arrow throwers. Now his whole fleet has them, and as will be seen soon the King’s Landing has been filled with them too. So just as Daenerys predicted, Cersei spent the truce getting prepared for round two.

After the last episode, I wondered that, if the White Walkers appeared now in the 21st century, they would be easy enough to handle with modern technology and weaponry. Mass-produce obsidian-tipped bullets, and the whole army of the dead is gone before it gets a start. Or just bomb them. The dead didn’t know how to use any weapon more complicated than a sword. Like the Elves of Discworld, in the industrial revolution they are out of time. Would the same end result happen to dragons, if they arrived on Westeros a thousand years later?

Back to the episode. Rhaegal, who survived fighting the Dead, including another dragon, gets shot down unceremoniously. Pulling out a victory will not be that easy after all. As long as the enemy has Euron, who can apparently do just about whatever.

His ballistas seem to work by magic, as not only can they pierce a dragon’s hide, but also hit with the power of powder-powered cannons in ship-to-ship fight. Anyway, he gets away with destroying the fleet. Tyrion jumps to water, a mast falls on top of the camera and everything goes dark.

If this was the end of the episode, it would already have been a regular-length one (55 minutes at this point), but no, we are not ready yet. The survivors get to the shore, Varys and Tyrion included, but Missandei is captured.

She is brought to the capital, and oh hi, Cersei, long time no see. Cersei has opened the gates of the Red Keep for the good people of King’s Landing, so Daenerys can’t just melt the castle down. She is also going to go with her and Jaime’s child being actually hers and Euron’s. “XX Lannister, of golden hair…”

Rhaegal dying upped the tension, but doesn’t actually change much narratively. If Daenerys wants to burn down everything, she can do it as well with just one dragon as long as the story is on her side. The change is that there’s now proof that dragons can be killed with human weapons, and not just with Night King’s trustworthy shoulder. And that getting more dragons is now impossible, if it wasn’t before (I don’t remember their sexes, and if they were close relatives that information is lost to history).

Then it’s another round of the party game “Let’s try to talk Daenerys out of killing everybody”. Varys is very worried, and so is Tyrion. Daenerys agrees to make appropriate sounds of not wanting bloodshed and asking Cersei to surrender, but she sees no hope in it. In her mind, the only way forward now is to sack the city and dig Cersei out of the ruins of the Red Keep. If that’s the only way to remove a tyrant, then so be it.

Varys is very afraid that after all the scheming and planning he did to keep the Targaryen heirs alive and finally put one of them to the throne, he’s only found a new tyrant to replace another. To which I say that Cersei is currently the worst option and she is the one on the throne, so one problem at a time. Varys seems to be thinking that if they swapped Daenerys with Jon now, they would get more Southern lords to join them against Cersei, which Daenerys can’t do. But would Cersei forfeit the throne even in that case? No, she wouldn’t. So a siege would have to happen anyway until she is removed by force.

When Varys started the plan many years ago, why was he thinking that it would work and the Targaryen heirs would be better rulers than Robert, anyway? Because the exiled Targaryens had to beg and so would grow up more humble? Didn’t work with Viserys. Another question: Why then did he give up so easily and send the assassin when Robert ordered it, with no safeguards?

Varys’ days are numbered at this point. He has now spoken of treason aloud. Tyrion can’t possibly keep it secret from Daenerys if he’s afraid that Varys will act soon.

People keep talking like Cersei’s fall is a certainty. No matter that they just got their backsides handed to them, Tyrion, Varys and even Sansa seem to have no doubt that Daenerys will now just get more angry and bring down fire and blood on her enemies.

When Jaime realizes this, he looks into his heart, and finds Cersei there. The same woman who threatened to have him killed the last time he saw her, and actually sent an assassin after him when he did leave. And still Jaime thinks that that’s the person he wants to be with. Jenny Nicholson said once “Loving something unconditionally doesn’t mean that you love it more. You just love it sadder”.

Well, Jaime has half the continent to cross, and plenty of time to think. Maybe he should think before setting out to these long journeys.

The last debate begins, on the gates of King’s Landing. Everything is empty on this side of the walls, and the city itself gets only a short glimpse and is otherwise not seen.

Empty vista, just these royal characters talking to each other, mixing their personal dramas into a large soup. The people whose lives they are discussing are elsewhere, not seen. Earlier in the episode they were shown as little dots, pieces of play, to be moved from one place to another. 

Both sides show their Hands, but Tyrion does not find Qyburn cood talking company, and walks up to Cersei. She enjoys the chance to make him wonder if she would really shoot him there and then, but ends up not doing that. For now, killing the Dragon Queen’s dear advisor is enough cruelty for one day.

Tyrion tries to call on her self-preservation instincts, by promising safety for her and her child if she steps down. There’s no use calling on her good side, and Tyrion doesn’t. “You hate the people and they hate you”. This doesn’t work, her pride comes before self-preservation. She was ready to poison both her and Tommen when Stannis almost breached the gates, no mercy asked. She won’t ask this time either. So she has Missandei executed.

Is it just cruelty for cruelty’s sake because she feels confident? Or does she want Daenerys to attack too soon and too rashly, so her last dragon can be dropped from the sky as easily as Rhaegal was? Or does she think that the lords will rally to her when they see how Daenerys attacks cities like the Targaryen conquerors of old?

Missandei and Grey Worm made the mistake of planning for their happy end too early, rookie mistake. But I still thought that Grey Worm would end up being the one who dies, he had “one last mission before retirement” written all over him.

First Jorah, now Missandei. Rakharo vanished somewhere (if he died at some point I missed it), ser Barristan died, Daario was left behind… she has lost her closest companions from Essos. Grey Worm was never much of a talker, and Tyrion and Varys have only seen her in the conqueror mode. No one can remind her of her beginning, when her army fit into one small ship, and the whole world was against her but she still tried to find the best options.

Cersei has woken the dragon.

[newstfionline]

What I Learned from Two Years in America

Veit Medick, Der Spiegel, Aug. 31, 2017

I recently took another walk around our neighborhood with my children. We went out through the front door, down the four steps from our porch and then right onto Highland Avenue down to Lynbrook Park. It’s a nice park with lots of tall trees, a basketball court, a playground and a large green field. It’s surrounded by those American suburban homes that always seem to be built the same: driveway, garage, porch and front yard.

It’s an idyllic setting. At least on the surface.

The kids wanted to swing a bit on the playground. The sun was shining and it was warm out, but hardly anyone was out and about. No people, no cars on the road, no children throwing balls or walking dogs. The field was empty, as was the playground. The neighborhood felt like a still-life--as it so often had before.

We spent two years living in Bethesda, a privileged, almost exclusively white suburb located a few kilometers north of Washington, D.C. In many respects, it was a wonderful and exciting time. We experienced history in the making. We had to find our way in foreign surroundings, but learned that we had the skills to do so.

Over time, my daughters became little American girls. They now sing songs by Katy Perry and Miley Cyrus, they love motorhomes and collect Shopkins. In them, it is possible to see just how powerful the lure of the American way of life can still be. That can be annoying. But it’s also kind of cute--at least for a short amount of time.

I liked living in our neighborhood. We had great neighbors and the ones next door quickly became our friends. It’s often said that relationships in the United States are superficial, but that wasn’t our experience.

Nevertheless, the emptiness and sterility of the streets often got to me. Something was missing: vibrancy, public life and the feeling that a neighborhood is something that actually gets used and isn’t just some movie set. Our neighbor Craig says that many Americans prefer to stay home because they have become comfortable, immobile. Because everything can be ordered online. Because air conditioning makes things so much more comfortable than the real weather outside. Because cars have become a second home for many. “We’re complacent,” Craig says. But is that really it?

I read a book a while ago by Barry Glassner, a sociologist. Glassner’s theory is that Americans live in a culture of fear and don’t do anything to try to counter it--instead allowing their lives to slide into a downward spiral of paranoia. I’ve thought a lot about this theory. In Bethesda, there’s not really much to be afraid of other than, perhaps, mosquitoes or car accidents. But even a single neurosis can be enough to make one’s home seem like a refuge. To me, Bethesda often seemed like one big refuge.

Fear, of course, is nothing new in America. It’s a country that has always believed that the apocalypse is somehow just around the corner. But the level of fear that has developed in the United States--both on a smaller and larger scale--my God! You don’t have to look very far to find it. Stores provide anti-bacterial wipes to protect their customers from germs on grocery carts. Parents obsessively coddle their children by driving them to school and picking them up each day. Fences surround playgrounds to prevent anything bad from happening. Alarms to protect classrooms from school shooters are ubiquitous. Hysteria is everywhere on the cable news channels.

A study was released recently about the things Americans fear the most. It includes literally everything. Terrorism and identity theft. Corrupt companies and financial ruin. Tornadoes and adultery. There is an explanation for this. America is no longer winning wars. Other countries suddenly also have a lot of power. Everything has become insanely fast. And the fear of external threats can influence the psyche--there’s no question about that.

There’s also a domestic dimension to this fear. Many Americans no longer trust their politicians or the elite. They no longer know what to believe in a situation where the macroeconomic indicators are trending positive but the amount of money that lands in their wallets is getting ever smaller.

Donald Trump has been masterful in understanding how to take advantage of that fear--in many areas of life. In politics, in the real estate market and also in the media. At home, we subscribed to The Washington Post. My wife read the entire newspaper, even the local section--leading her to say things like, “Let’s not drive through Prince William County--there are constantly shootings there.” At first, I laughed at her. That is, until I also noticed that I myself had grown more cautious. For example, I no longer like going to stadiums that don’t have security gates. Is that silly? Yes, but fear in America can be contagious.

And it’s true, this country often drives people to despair, even if you live in a bubble. It is wrought with contradictions. Everyone talks about security, but the Americans haven’t even managed to impose reasonable controls on weapon ownership. Everyone talks about freedom, but then, at the swimming pool we went to a few streets to the north, girls were made to wear bikinis even as babies. If I bought a bottle of wine at the store, I had to keep it hidden in a dark plastic bag until I got home.

We recently got pulled over by the police because I had allegedly swerved outside my lane. What would happen if I didn’t sign the ticket, I asked? “Then I will arrest you,” the officer said. Don’t go to jail dad, my daughter called out. Sometimes you feel like you’re under observation in the United States--and not free at all.

In January 2016, a house stood across from our own. When we looked out the window, we could see that the house didn’t really belong anymore. It was small and old and a little dirty and run down. No one had been taking care of the yard. At some point, a bulldozer showed up. Within an hour, the house no longer existed. Only two months later, a new home had been built on the same property--with six bedrooms, four bathrooms for $1.6 million. Of course, it also had a driveway, garage, porch and front yard. A family is living there now, and they appear to be happy--at least when they make an appearance.

Was it displacement? You could see it that way. But for me, that house remains a metaphor for the way the country ticks. And how we tick as Germans. We would have approached the problem differently. We probably would have tried fixing up the house--putting in a few new windows and giving the place a fresh coat of paint. We would have somehow tried to rescue it. After all, it used to be grandpa’s place.

When you live in another country, you also learn a lot more about your own culture. As Germans, we’re not fond of getting rid of old things. We preserve and optimize things. One thing we’re definitely not very good at is the idea of just scrapping everything and starting over from scratch.

Americans have an uncanny ability to do this. If they get tired of something, they just order a bulldozer. Cars are discarded, as are homes, theories, ideas, sports heroes, professions, companies and politicians. All that matters is that they are replaced by something new. The moon? Been there, done that! Next time it’s going to be Mars. Things aren’t going well at General Motors? Then we’ll build Tesla.

I personally believe that, to a certain extent, Hillary Clinton was also a victim of this mentality. She had been on the scene for too long. The Americans were bored by the prospect of her becoming president and instead just chose to vote for someone else. And this despite the fact that they knew doing so might be extremely risky. Or could it be that this desire to take risks is also what led them to vote for someone else?

The readiness to question everything can be dangerous. But I also admire it. It makes the country creative, dynamic and exciting. It ensures that America is a country that can shed its skin and transform itself. It’s something that will eventually be felt by Donald Trump, as well. After Barack Obama’s election as president, we thought to ourselves: That’s the real America. But the tide can shift pretty quickly here. Trump will be gone in 2024 at the latest. Nobody can predict what will follow him. Perhaps a king--who knows?

America is a place where people have dreams. They still do today, despite everything. My neighbor Mark is actually a painter. But for the last few years, he’s been a psychologist. Mark wrote an article that he believes will revolutionize neuroscience. I don’t understand any of it. But the strange thing is that, when I listen to him talk about it, I wouldn’t rule out that possibility.

A street fair recently took place in our neighborhood. A woman in her late 40s named Lisa organizes it twice each year. She collects signatures and then goes to the local authorities to get a permit to block the entire street. She even set up a Facebook group and manages a small budget. Lisa has a day job, but she tends to her block in Bethesda as if it were her true profession.

On the day of the street fair, which was also intended as a send-off for me and my family, everyone was suddenly outside. The children rode a pony across the intersection. Then they did gymnastics in the street. We drank beer in our front yards, played games and ate like kings. My neighborhood had suddenly become very lively.

It was a good farewell.

[samuelfields]

The Best And Overlooked Financial Samurai Posts Of 2018

As we come to the end of the year, I want to highlight the top posts published in 2018. This year I spent more time than normal  writing cautionary articles partly because I felt the good times were going away. It was important to share my growing concerns about the economy in order to better prepare the FS community.

My first hint of financial worry started in May 2017 when the asking rental price for my SF rental house dropped from $9,000/month to $7,500/month, a 16.7% decline after 45 days of diligent searching. May/June are generally great months to find tenants due to the end of the school season. After searching far and wide, there was only one party willing to pay $7,500, a family of six.

At the time, the drop in rents had not yet shown up in real estate prices, so I decided to give up my plan to own the property forever and sell. As a new dad, I didn’t want to deal with tenant hassles, maintenance issues, and pay $23,000 a year in property taxes anymore. I really struggled with this decision at the time, but in retrospect, I’m glad I simplified.

On November 14, 2017, I decided to publish: It Feels A Lot Like 2007 Again: Reflecting On The Previous Peak. My hope was to give people who had never experienced a downturn a glimpse at history in order to prepare for a potential downturn.

Given the rocky times we experienced in 2018, it’s no wonder why some of the most popular posts on Financial Samurai are also some of the most cautious. I know I won’t win many friends by talking about negative things. But showing the the dark side in order to provide a more balanced view is better than always being a cheerleader.

Not everybody can buy and hold forever because not everybody can live forever or want to hoard their wealth forever. 

The Most Popular Posts Of 2018

Here are the most popular posts by traffic, comments, and social media shares.

It’s Time To Start Worrying About The Housing Market Again – Published on Feb 2, 2018, I wanted to share the warning signs of rising inventory, rising interest rates, lower turnover, and weakening prices. I was on the ground looking at property every weekend because it’s a hobby. Given I had recently sold my SF rental house in June 2017, I felt a little conflicted writing this post because it might seem like I was not being objective. But I still own two properties in SF and one in Lake Tahoe.

Financial Samurai 2018 Passive Income Update – This post was picked up by Business Insider and CNBC, hence its popularity. I believe financial independence means having 100% of your expenses covered by passive income. Once this is achieved, any extra income earned is gravy.

Why Households Need To Earn $300K To Live A Middle Class Lifestyle Today – This post got picked up by Yahoo and seemed to enrage a lot of folks, despite a detailed expense chart showing how quickly $300K disappears. I’m aiming for $300K in passive income before our son is eligible to attend kindergarten, hence why I did a deep dive into this budget.

What If You Buy A House At The Top Of The Market – Buying property at the top of the market could be devastating, because most people buy property with debt. This post was published on April 7 because it was starting to become very clear to me coastal city real estate was slowing. I shared my story of what happened when I bought near the top in 2007.

How To Make Lots Of Money During The Next Economic Downturn – The more the stock market went down, the more people found this post useful. The post was published on June 11, again to prepare the community for potentially tough times ahead.

The Negatives Of Early Retirement Nobody Likes Talking About – This post was picked up by Business Insider, Marketwatch, MSN and Yahoo. It’s an honest reflection of early retirement life that few people are willing to share.

Who Makes A Million Dollars A Year Or More: Exploring The Top 0.1% – If you want to be rich, you might as well work in one of these industries. The other key is to last for at least 10+ years in these industries.

The Best Financial Move I Ever Made Requires No Skill – A story about the importance of doing what few others are willing to do. This is one of my favorite posts.

Why $5 Million Is Barely Enough To Retire Early With A Family – To retire early, you need lots of capital to produce enough passive income in this environment. If you want to retire in a high cost area of the country and raise a family, needing $5 million is not unreasonable.

Build A CD Or Bond Step Stool Not A Ladder – A new terminology I came up with to highlight the savviness of investing in short duration CDs or bonds in a flattening yield curve environment.

Be Rich Not Famous: The Joy Of Being A Nobody – There seems to be an obsession with fame and popularity nowadays. I understand the temptation, but fame is an empty feeling that is overvalued. Otherwise, why do you think so many famous people still have problems despite millions of adoring fans?

How The Rich Get Richer: Strategies For Competing In A Rigged Game – Like it or not, the rich have more advantages than the rest of us. This article helps even the playing field just a little bit.

Achieving Financial Independence On A Modest Income: $40K In Manhattan – I have noticed a wave of growing anger towards folks with higher paying jobs. In this post, I reflect on my time living in a studio with my friend because that’s all I could afford. It’s important to adopt a strong money mindset, no matter what your income.

How Much Investment Risk Should You Take In Retirement – A deep dive into various returns by portfolio composition. The point of this post was to point out that even with a heavy bond allocation, you still did quite well over time. 2018 provided to be a good time to own bonds once again.

Posts That Deserve More Love

Here are some other noteworthy posts that were published later in the year and either didn’t have enough time to mature or were overlooked.

* After-Tax Portfolio Amounts By Age If You Want To Comfortably Retire Early – The post highlights the importance of developing a large after-tax portfolio beyond your pre-tax retirement accounts for early retirement. I think some folks pursuing early retirement don’t realize it’s their after-tax investment accounts that count the most.

* Wedding Spending Rules To Follow If You Don’t Want To End Up Broke And Alone – Given my age, I’m observing a lot more of my contemporaries getting a divorce. These fun wedding rules may help couples get a better start.

* Way Of The Financial Samurai: Core Principles For Achieving Financial Independence – Here are my five core principles I believe any financial independence seeker should follow. They will also help you lead a better life.

* Personal Lessons Learned Since The 2008 Financial Crisis – This post was published in September 17 and was my final attempt to warn the FS community about taking too much investment risk.

* Are You Willing To Accept $1,000,000 To Go To Public School? – As a new father, I find it amazing that if my son went to public school rather than private school, I would have saved enough in education fees to give him a $1,000,000 check upon college graduation.

* The Ideal Retirement Age To Minimize Regret And Maximize Happiness – Time is more precious than money. But you don’t want to exit the workforce too early and regret your decision. Here’s a logical framework.

* Move Over FIRE, Welcome To DIRE: Delay, Inherit, Retire, Expire – I’m guessing the DIRE movement won’t gain mass popularity because it’s not full of rah-rah positivity. But I do hope this poignant, and perhaps humorous post can help save people who are drunkenly delirious about early retirement.

Just Gotta Keep On Going

2018 was a solid year for production. I published 144 posts and even more pages. A page is like a post that doesn’t show up on the homepage or in my public subscription feeds because I don’t want to inundate readers with random thoughts or business related type posts. Here’s an example of a page: Cutie Baby: A New Lullaby.

I also began to regularly publish a private newsletter once a week from about once a month or two in 2017. It ended up saving me tens of thousands of dollars in investment losses as I worked out my investment framework. My goal since I started Financial Samurai in 2009 was to publish 3X a week on average for 10 years. I’m excited to have almost reached the finish line!

From a work standpoint, you will experience no greater pride than creating something from nothing. This joy is perhaps the greatest reason why I continue to write so much.

I’m lucky that writing doesn’t feel like a chore. Instead, writing is a way to express my creativity, which is freeing. I enjoy challenging myself to think differently, no matter how much flak I get. Having the freedom to be unique is one of the greatest gifts America has to offer. Don’t take it for granted.

Thanks everybody for reading and sharing my work all year. It’s been an honor. If you have any favorite posts I’d didn’t mention, I’d love to hear them. Next up will be my year in review.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

The post The Best And Overlooked Financial Samurai Posts Of 2018 appeared first on Financial Samurai.

from Finance https://www.financialsamurai.com/the-best-and-overlooked-financial-samurai-posts-of-2018/ via http://www.rssmix.com/

[jamesgeiiger]

The Best And Overlooked Financial Samurai Posts Of 2018

As we come to the end of the year, I want to highlight the top posts published in 2018. This year I spent more time than normal  writing cautionary articles partly because I felt the good times were going away. It was important to share my growing concerns about the economy in order to better prepare the FS community.

My first hint of financial worry started in May 2017 when the asking rental price for my SF rental house dropped from $9,000/month to $7,500/month, a 16.7% decline after 45 days of diligent searching. May/June are generally great months to find tenants due to the end of the school season. After searching far and wide, there was only one party willing to pay $7,500, a family of six.

At the time, the drop in rents had not yet shown up in real estate prices, so I decided to give up my plan to own the property forever and sell. As a new dad, I didn’t want to deal with tenant hassles, maintenance issues, and pay $23,000 a year in property taxes anymore. I really struggled with this decision at the time, but in retrospect, I’m glad I simplified.

On November 14, 2017, I decided to publish: It Feels A Lot Like 2007 Again: Reflecting On The Previous Peak. My hope was to give people who had never experienced a downturn a glimpse at history in order to prepare for a potential downturn.

Given the rocky times we experienced in 2018, it’s no wonder why some of the most popular posts on Financial Samurai are also some of the most cautious. I know I won’t win many friends by talking about negative things. But showing the the dark side in order to provide a more balanced view is better than always being a cheerleader.

Not everybody can buy and hold forever because not everybody can live forever or want to hoard their wealth forever. 

The Most Popular Posts Of 2018

Here are the most popular posts by traffic, comments, and social media shares.

It’s Time To Start Worrying About The Housing Market Again – Published on Feb 2, 2018, I wanted to share the warning signs of rising inventory, rising interest rates, lower turnover, and weakening prices. I was on the ground looking at property every weekend because it’s a hobby. Given I had recently sold my SF rental house in June 2017, I felt a little conflicted writing this post because it might seem like I was not being objective. But I still own two properties in SF and one in Lake Tahoe.

Financial Samurai 2018 Passive Income Update – This post was picked up by Business Insider and CNBC, hence its popularity. I believe financial independence means having 100% of your expenses covered by passive income. Once this is achieved, any extra income earned is gravy.

Why Households Need To Earn $300K To Live A Middle Class Lifestyle Today – This post got picked up by Yahoo and seemed to enrage a lot of folks, despite a detailed expense chart showing how quickly $300K disappears. I’m aiming for $300K in passive income before our son is eligible to attend kindergarten, hence why I did a deep dive into this budget.

What If You Buy A House At The Top Of The Market – Buying property at the top of the market could be devastating, because most people buy property with debt. This post was published on April 7 because it was starting to become very clear to me coastal city real estate was slowing. I shared my story of what happened when I bought near the top in 2007.

How To Make Lots Of Money During The Next Economic Downturn – The more the stock market went down, the more people found this post useful. The post was published on June 11, again to prepare the community for potentially tough times ahead.

The Negatives Of Early Retirement Nobody Likes Talking About – This post was picked up by Business Insider, Marketwatch, MSN and Yahoo. It’s an honest reflection of early retirement life that few people are willing to share.

Who Makes A Million Dollars A Year Or More: Exploring The Top 0.1% – If you want to be rich, you might as well work in one of these industries. The other key is to last for at least 10+ years in these industries.

The Best Financial Move I Ever Made Requires No Skill – A story about the importance of doing what few others are willing to do. This is one of my favorite posts.

Why $5 Million Is Barely Enough To Retire Early With A Family – To retire early, you need lots of capital to produce enough passive income in this environment. If you want to retire in a high cost area of the country and raise a family, needing $5 million is not unreasonable.

Build A CD Or Bond Step Stool Not A Ladder – A new terminology I came up with to highlight the savviness of investing in short duration CDs or bonds in a flattening yield curve environment.

Be Rich Not Famous: The Joy Of Being A Nobody – There seems to be an obsession with fame and popularity nowadays. I understand the temptation, but fame is an empty feeling that is overvalued. Otherwise, why do you think so many famous people still have problems despite millions of adoring fans?

How The Rich Get Richer: Strategies For Competing In A Rigged Game – Like it or not, the rich have more advantages than the rest of us. This article helps even the playing field just a little bit.

Achieving Financial Independence On A Modest Income: $40K In Manhattan – I have noticed a wave of growing anger towards folks with higher paying jobs. In this post, I reflect on my time living in a studio with my friend because that’s all I could afford. It’s important to adopt a strong money mindset, no matter what your income.

How Much Investment Risk Should You Take In Retirement – A deep dive into various returns by portfolio composition. The point of this post was to point out that even with a heavy bond allocation, you still did quite well over time. 2018 provided to be a good time to own bonds once again.

Posts That Deserve More Love

Here are some other noteworthy posts that were published later in the year and either didn’t have enough time to mature or were overlooked.

* After-Tax Portfolio Amounts By Age If You Want To Comfortably Retire Early – The post highlights the importance of developing a large after-tax portfolio beyond your pre-tax retirement accounts for early retirement. I think some folks pursuing early retirement don’t realize it’s their after-tax investment accounts that count the most.

* Wedding Spending Rules To Follow If You Don’t Want To End Up Broke And Alone – Given my age, I’m observing a lot more of my contemporaries getting a divorce. These fun wedding rules may help couples get a better start.

* Way Of The Financial Samurai: Core Principles For Achieving Financial Independence – Here are my five core principles I believe any financial independence seeker should follow. They will also help you lead a better life.

* Personal Lessons Learned Since The 2008 Financial Crisis – This post was published in September 17 and was my final attempt to warn the FS community about taking too much investment risk.

* Are You Willing To Accept $1,000,000 To Go To Public School? – As a new father, I find it amazing that if my son went to public school rather than private school, I would have saved enough in education fees to give him a $1,000,000 check upon college graduation.

* The Ideal Retirement Age To Minimize Regret And Maximize Happiness – Time is more precious than money. But you don’t want to exit the workforce too early and regret your decision. Here’s a logical framework.

* Move Over FIRE, Welcome To DIRE: Delay, Inherit, Retire, Expire – I’m guessing the DIRE movement won’t gain mass popularity because it’s not full of rah-rah positivity. But I do hope this poignant, and perhaps humorous post can help save people who are drunkenly delirious about early retirement.

Just Gotta Keep On Going

2018 was a solid year for production. I published 144 posts and even more pages. A page is like a post that doesn’t show up on the homepage or in my public subscription feeds because I don’t want to inundate readers with random thoughts or business related type posts. Here’s an example of a page: Cutie Baby: A New Lullaby.

I also began to regularly publish a private newsletter once a week from about once a month or two in 2017. It ended up saving me tens of thousands of dollars in investment losses as I worked out my investment framework. My goal since I started Financial Samurai in 2009 was to publish 3X a week on average for 10 years. I’m excited to have almost reached the finish line!

From a work standpoint, you will experience no greater pride than creating something from nothing. This joy is perhaps the greatest reason why I continue to write so much.

I’m lucky that writing doesn’t feel like a chore. Instead, writing is a way to express my creativity, which is freeing. I enjoy challenging myself to think differently, no matter how much flak I get. Having the freedom to be unique is one of the greatest gifts America has to offer. Don’t take it for granted.

Thanks everybody for reading and sharing my work all year. It’s been an honor. If you have any favorite posts I’d didn’t mention, I’d love to hear them. Next up will be my year in review.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

The post The Best And Overlooked Financial Samurai Posts Of 2018 appeared first on Financial Samurai.

The Best And Overlooked Financial Samurai Posts Of 2018 published first on https://worldwideinvestforum.tumblr.com/

[ronaldmrashid]

The Best And Overlooked Financial Samurai Posts Of 2018

As we come to the end of the year, I want to highlight the top posts published in 2018. This year I spent more time than normal  writing cautionary articles partly because I felt the good times were going away. It was important to share my growing concerns about the economy in order to better prepare the FS community.

My first hint of financial worry started in May 2017 when the asking rental price for my SF rental house dropped from $9,000/month to $7,500/month, a 16.7% decline after 45 days of diligent searching. May/June are generally great months to find tenants due to the end of the school season. After searching far and wide, there was only one party willing to pay $7,500, a family of six.

At the time, the drop in rents had not yet shown up in real estate prices, so I decided to give up my plan to own the property forever and sell. As a new dad, I didn’t want to deal with tenant hassles, maintenance issues, and pay $23,000 a year in property taxes anymore. I really struggled with this decision at the time, but in retrospect, I’m glad I simplified.

On November 14, 2017, I decided to publish: It Feels A Lot Like 2007 Again: Reflecting On The Previous Peak. My hope was to give people who had never experienced a downturn a glimpse at history in order to prepare for a potential downturn.

Given the rocky times we experienced in 2018, it’s no wonder why some of the most popular posts on Financial Samurai are also some of the most cautious. I know I won’t win many friends by talking about negative things. But showing the the dark side in order to provide a more balanced view is better than always being a cheerleader.

Not everybody can buy and hold forever because not everybody can live forever or want to hoard their wealth forever. 

The Most Popular Posts Of 2018

Here are the most popular posts by traffic, comments, and social media shares.

It’s Time To Start Worrying About The Housing Market Again – Published on Feb 2, 2018, I wanted to share the warning signs of rising inventory, rising interest rates, lower turnover, and weakening prices. I was on the ground looking at property every weekend because it’s a hobby. Given I had recently sold my SF rental house in June 2017, I felt a little conflicted writing this post because it might seem like I was not being objective. But I still own two properties in SF and one in Lake Tahoe.

Financial Samurai 2018 Passive Income Update – This post was picked up by Business Insider and CNBC, hence its popularity. I believe financial independence means having 100% of your expenses covered by passive income. Once this is achieved, any extra income earned is gravy.

Why Households Need To Earn $300K To Live A Middle Class Lifestyle Today – This post got picked up by Yahoo and seemed to enrage a lot of folks, despite a detailed expense chart showing how quickly $300K disappears. I’m aiming for $300K in passive income before our son is eligible to attend kindergarten, hence why I did a deep dive into this budget.

What If You Buy A House At The Top Of The Market – Buying property at the top of the market could be devastating, because most people buy property with debt. This post was published on April 7 because it was starting to become very clear to me coastal city real estate was slowing. I shared my story of what happened when I bought near the top in 2007.

How To Make Lots Of Money During The Next Economic Downturn – The more the stock market went down, the more people found this post useful. The post was published on June 11, again to prepare the community for potentially tough times ahead.

The Negatives Of Early Retirement Nobody Likes Talking About – This post was picked up by Business Insider, Marketwatch, MSN and Yahoo. It’s an honest reflection of early retirement life that few people are willing to share.

Who Makes A Million Dollars A Year Or More: Exploring The Top 0.1% – If you want to be rich, you might as well work in one of these industries. The other key is to last for at least 10+ years in these industries.

The Best Financial Move I Ever Made Requires No Skill – A story about the importance of doing what few others are willing to do. This is one of my favorite posts.

Why $5 Million Is Barely Enough To Retire Early With A Family – To retire early, you need lots of capital to produce enough passive income in this environment. If you want to retire in a high cost area of the country and raise a family, needing $5 million is not unreasonable.

Build A CD Or Bond Step Stool Not A Ladder – A new terminology I came up with to highlight the savviness of investing in short duration CDs or bonds in a flattening yield curve environment.

Be Rich Not Famous: The Joy Of Being A Nobody – There seems to be an obsession with fame and popularity nowadays. I understand the temptation, but fame is an empty feeling that is overvalued. Otherwise, why do you think so many famous people still have problems despite millions of adoring fans?

How The Rich Get Richer: Strategies For Competing In A Rigged Game – Like it or not, the rich have more advantages than the rest of us. This article helps even the playing field just a little bit.

Achieving Financial Independence On A Modest Income: $40K In Manhattan – I have noticed a wave of growing anger towards folks with higher paying jobs. In this post, I reflect on my time living in a studio with my friend because that’s all I could afford. It’s important to adopt a strong money mindset, no matter what your income.

How Much Investment Risk Should You Take In Retirement – A deep dive into various returns by portfolio composition. The point of this post was to point out that even with a heavy bond allocation, you still did quite well over time. 2018 provided to be a good time to own bonds once again.

Posts That Deserve More Love

Here are some other noteworthy posts that were published later in the year and either didn’t have enough time to mature or were overlooked.

* After-Tax Portfolio Amounts By Age If You Want To Comfortably Retire Early – The post highlights the importance of developing a large after-tax portfolio beyond your pre-tax retirement accounts for early retirement. I think some folks pursuing early retirement don’t realize it’s their after-tax investment accounts that count the most.

* Wedding Spending Rules To Follow If You Don’t Want To End Up Broke And Alone – Given my age, I’m observing a lot more of my contemporaries getting a divorce. These fun wedding rules may help couples get a better start.

* Way Of The Financial Samurai: Core Principles For Achieving Financial Independence – Here are my five core principles I believe any financial independence seeker should follow. They will also help you lead a better life.

* Personal Lessons Learned Since The 2008 Financial Crisis – This post was published in September 17 and was my final attempt to warn the FS community about taking too much investment risk.

* Are You Willing To Accept $1,000,000 To Go To Public School? – As a new father, I find it amazing that if my son went to public school rather than private school, I would have saved enough in education fees to give him a $1,000,000 check upon college graduation.

* The Ideal Retirement Age To Minimize Regret And Maximize Happiness – Time is more precious than money. But you don’t want to exit the workforce too early and regret your decision. Here’s a logical framework.

* Move Over FIRE, Welcome To DIRE: Delay, Inherit, Retire, Expire – I’m guessing the DIRE movement won’t gain mass popularity because it’s not full of rah-rah positivity. But I do hope this poignant, and perhaps humorous post can help save people who are drunkenly delirious about early retirement.

Just Gotta Keep On Going

2018 was a solid year for production. I published 144 posts and even more pages. A page is like a post that doesn’t show up on the homepage or in my public subscription feeds because I don’t want to inundate readers with random thoughts or business related type posts. Here’s an example of a page: Cutie Baby: A New Lullaby.

I also began to regularly publish a private newsletter once a week from about once a month or two in 2017. It ended up saving me tens of thousands of dollars in investment losses as I worked out my investment framework. My goal since I started Financial Samurai in 2009 was to publish 3X a week on average for 10 years. I’m excited to have almost reached the finish line!

From a work standpoint, you will experience no greater pride than creating something from nothing. This joy is perhaps the greatest reason why I continue to write so much.

I’m lucky that writing doesn’t feel like a chore. Instead, writing is a way to express my creativity, which is freeing. I enjoy challenging myself to think differently, no matter how much flak I get. Having the freedom to be unique is one of the greatest gifts America has to offer. Don’t take it for granted.

Thanks everybody for reading and sharing my work all year. It’s been an honor. If you have any favorite posts I’d didn’t mention, I’d love to hear them. Next up will be my year in review.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

The post The Best And Overlooked Financial Samurai Posts Of 2018 appeared first on Financial Samurai.

from https://www.financialsamurai.com/the-best-and-overlooked-financial-samurai-posts-of-2018/

[rfschatten]

Trump & Nepotism: Keeping it all in the Family

“Society is composed of Two Great Classes…those who have more Dinners than Appetite, and those who have more Appetite than Dinners” ~~~ Nicolas Chamfort

We’re Living in a Society where Class disparity has widened considerably, slowly ridding the Middle Class’ existence, and opening the wide Gap between the elite 1% of our population and the rest 99% of this Nation. The biggest gap ever! And now, a Political Party with an Administration that’s literally in every way, shape, or form…is seriously robbing the Poor, completely blind…and giving it all to the Rich!!

Look at his “Awesome” Trumpcare!…cuts 24 million people from their Healthcare Benefits and divvy — up the $$$ into massive Tax Cuts for Billionaires, afterward. To no one’s surprise, this repulsive group of greedy old bastards’ most orgasmic thrill? Better than sex! The dream of “Laissez-Faire” style Economics in the Trump Administration…as “Regulation” free, and as “Tax” free…as possible! And while people, like Trump’s Billionaire Cabinet Club, rips off all the constituents of their respective Departments, of everything they can possibly take…the Family Trump in its entirety continues on its merry way…overindulging themselves in all the riches and advantages the position of President can bring…and all, 100% at Taxpayers’ expense!! Third World Dictatorships, Major Authoritarian Regimes…and now, a Democratic Government…are run as Kleptocracies with an abundant use of Nepotism and Cronyism. It’s plain old fashioned open corruption!

Most of the Country keeps saying; “How can all this go on, and nobody’s doing anything about it”?…are we all caught, trapped in the Batshit mind of Trumpism?…trying to determine what’s Fake and what’s Real? what’re the Facts and what’s the Alternative Facts? For those with even a minimal of Education…It only takes common sense!

Living the “Life of Riley” for their entire lives…and now, able to do it without spending a single dime? Legally?!?! Do they really care on the example their pompous lifestyle promotes?…why would they? They really don’t know any better!…just look at them, it’s in their DNA. Looking down from their “Golden” Penthouse, high atop Trump Tower, people look small and faceless…which allows for the natural Trump Indifference and Ignorance to nourish and shine! How the Trumps are Sucking out our Taxes: start with his weekly vacations!

Living in the White House would the logical thing to do…in the case of Melania Trump, the “official” First Lady…you can’t blame her to prefer to live in all her splendour with all her Diamonds & Pearls, way up in her Manhattan Tower with her ‘own’ son, than to come down and move into the White House with her pussy grabbing, “marital rape is not a crime” type of husband!

The taxpayers’ cost to keep her safe at Trump Towers? $1,000,000.00 million dollars per day!…naturally, it’s expected we all forego such trivial things such as Food for the Sick and the Elderly, and School Lunches for Kids less fortunate…we can forego little things like that, so Our First Lady can eat Gourmet and do anything and go anywhere that tickles her fancy. Weekend Trips to Florida at his Mar-A-Lago Estate runs at $3 million a pop…the trip to Aspen for the entire clan? $3 million more. Plus $12,208.25 on rental ski equipment and clothing at the Aspen Valley Ski and Snowboard Club…for the Secret Service!!

And don’t forget all those Golf Trips? Poor baby boy! He has to relieve all that stress of doing absolutely nothing, but sign Executive Orders! Yes, Mel Brooks had it right! Trump’s so much more the épitomé of a horny Governor William J LePetomane…you know?!?! “Just sign it! Take the pen and think of your Girlfriend!…Work! Work! Work!…Hello, Boys! had a good night’s rest? I missed you!!” Ahhyup! that’s the Trumpster, all right!

Estimated costs counting future trips…Domestic and Foreign…and both Public and Private? Over $1 Billion Dollars…give or take a few Million…for 1 year!!! Hopefully, for the Taxpayers’ pocketbooks, his Presidency won’t last too many years. And how about the White House? Trump’s lawyer?…$2–3.4 Million/year! Kellyanne Conway? $800,000!! And We, the Suckers…and our Taxes…are paying for this total idiot’s Salary?!?! Please, where can I go and get a Civil Service Job for $800K??

We are paying for 100 Secret Service Agents…more than any President in History! And with a daughter and Son-in-Law that now has Top Security Clearances? That’s more Agents and a larger cost…all to keep a 35-year-old socialite princess from becoming the 2nd Trump to get compromised by Russia, just like they did with her notoriously stupid father.

And then, there’s the cost and expenses to fly the Trump Boys around the world, all so they can continue making their own financial deals for the Trump Organization. And Jared Kushner? Dealing in “personal” financial interests, while officially representing the United States Government? A little “Conflict of Interest” here and there? They don’t care!…they’ll continue doing it, because the American People in a whole, appears not to really care what the hell they do! Not, until America gets fed-up, and realizes We, the Taxpayers are helping these schmucks screw us while making $Millions$…meanwhile We, the People starve, get sick, go homeless, and lose our jobs, all, because of Trump’s Draconian Policies!!

So why? why?? does Donald and Melania Trump remind so many people of the pompous era of Ruling Class France? And the excess of overflowing riches…along with all the Champagne and Caviar abled to be consumed by Louis and Marie…while an entire Country lay starving! There’s only so much any population will ever put up with, including this Nation…Louis and Marie would have been better off if they would’ve eaten some of that great “Cake” she recommended so much, and maybe try to understand the plight of a Nation. They didn’t…and knowing Donald and Melania, they won’t either. Hopefully, they won’t meet the same fate!

Nepotism in the Trump White House? As Eric Trump boasted; “Nepotism is kind of a factor in the Trump Family Life, and I’ve never let my Dad down”! Having his politically inexperienced, slimy Kids with more than enough Legal Court experience, a la Dad, put their 2 cents worth on WH matters? The Donald did not choose too wisely!…but, Trump is infamous for Family First, Family Second, Family Third… and the rest of America? and all his creditors? Dead Last!! Eric, Don Jr, Ivanka, and her husband, Jared are all a younger versions of Le Grande Orange…the fact: Donald Trump is a disgusting and deplorable degenerate of a human being with no shame or moral values whatsoever, and who could care less about his own Country, and care more about his own greed and ambitions of Wealth and Power! The kids? From the same greedy and slimy Trump mold…especially Eric. Jared? That’s a whole other story . It’s not hard to see why it’s not so secret anymore! With the Kids openly talking about the White House, that the “Real” 1st priority as President, is Trump’s personal business (Trump Corp), “Maximizing the ‘Profitability’ of the Trump Brand”…and not the Country whom he insists; “Elected me by a Landslide”.

For the Family Trump, the more the better!…and the Kids are all following in the footsteps of the Trump Immorality! A Haut Monde family living out their phony lives, like Dad, in their own little world…overlooking Gotham from their own little towers.

Conservative Christian America likes to use the parables of Jesus on the Mount…the “Shining City upon a Hill”…to them, it represents a manifestation of what they want America to be and look like. To them, that “Shining City” is true “American Exceptionalism”…in its ugliest form.

Well, it’s reality time!…that “City upon a Hill” has become a vast Metropolis, a hodge-podge of a Multi-Cultural, Multi-Ethnic, and a Multi-Religious Society. And it’s not too “Shiny”, anymore!…if anyone, especially on the Right Side of the Aisle wants to regress to the security of yesteryear? Sorry! but yesteryear is dead and buried…Bye! Bye! So long! and a good riddance Farewell!…cause yesterday will never return! You ‘will’ progress and evolve, whether you want to or not…along with everyone else! So, just live with it!

For the Trump clan? The Nepotism, the open corruption, the graft, and extortion he and his family undertakes worldwide, with an occasional joint venture by his Cabinet Club, like the “Exxon/Russia” Megadeal which Tillerson applied for a waiver from the Sanctions. Waivers, that now appears is not going to come. In the end, it’ll always come down to a Trump’s only interest; “Maximizing the ‘Profitability’ of the Trump Brand”.

Being continually exposed in front of the world as a Politician, it’s more than a little embarrassing to America!!…exposing the true character of the man? He’s a downright insult to America, and an insult to all the good things We, the People have accomplished through the years while becoming the envy of the World.

You don’t have to be rich to have “Class”…and for the Trump Clan? About the only “Class” they do have is their Financial Classification Status. Their personal Moral Character? They’re all just Rich Trash!!

[ronaldmrashid]

One Spouse, Two Cars, Three Houses, Four Jobs

There’s a simple personal finance mantra everybody should consider following: one spouse, one car, one house, one job. The idea is that if you stick with one of everything, you’ll maximize its usage, minimize extraneous expenditure, and live happily ever after.

We get in trouble when we want too much.

But one of everything can get quite boring. Thus, the divorce rate is ~50%. The average car ownership is six years. The median home ownership is seven years. And the average person job hops every three years.

I want to review each item to see what’s truly ideal. I suspect the answer is different for everyone. Feel free to share your thoughts below.

How Many Of Each Is Ideal For A Wonderful Life?

Spouse: I only have one spouse, and plan to only have one spouse. We met when we were in college and have been together ever since. Now that we are business partners and parents, the stakes are way too high to split now! If we divorced, we’d have to waste money on lawyers, go through some serious financial forensic analysis, get another place to live, and share custody of our son.

Verdict: One spouse is ideal.

Cars: For my entire life, I’ve either had no car or just one car. With the invention of ridesharing, I’ve often wondered about having no car. But having no car won’t work because it would be a PITA to install a baby seat and bring a stroller every time we had to go somewhere.

But for nine months, we had two cars because I actually bought Moose, my current family car in December 2016. Our baby was due in Spring and I wanted to get a larger vehicle before he was born. Sometimes babies are born early, and the seller offered a reasonable price.

Two cars felt like a complete waste of money, but because the Honda Fit was a $235/month business expense, it wasn’t costly. Further, we have plenty of free parking right outside our house, which is a rarity in a city like San Francisco. I mostly still drove Rhino except when taking the little one to the doctor’s office.

Once I returned Rhino, I felt lighter. It was a relief not to own him anymore because he had a lot of starter problems (will show a video in a future post). Further, it was nice knowing I was not financially responsible or liable for him anymore. Calling the auto insurance company to drop coverage was a happy moment.

Verdict: one car is ideal + a ridesharing account per adult.

Houses: Owning your own house feels awesome. There’s this magical feeling you experience that nobody tells you when you get the keys. Owning one rental property feels pretty darn good too. It’s nice knowing your tenants are paying your mortgage and that eventually, you’ll own the property free and clear to earn a nice cash flow. A vacation property can be great if it’s relatively close by and you use it for at least four weeks a year. But after three properties, if you have a job and a family to take care of, things start getting more difficult to manage.

I thought I’d enjoy owning four properties consisting of a primary residence, two city rentals, and one vacation rental/property. But after three years of managing three properties at the same time, I finally had enough after my son was born. If I had perfect tenants, I wouldn’t have minded holding onto three rentals. But I knew renting out a house in the Marina district (infamous for being a homogenous party neighborhood in SF) near a busy street would only attract a group of 4 – 6 male roommates and not the stable family I was looking for.

Verdict: Two properties, one consisting of a primary residence and a rental property to be truly long real estate. It’s much better to vacation all over the world and rent instead of always going back to the same place.

Jobs: According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, the average person has worked 10 different jobs before 40. Sounds high, but it makes a lot of sense if we are counting all the jobs one has held in their lifetimes.

Before graduating college, I had four jobs. After graduating college, I had two jobs, three corporate consulting jobs, and my own business. What do you know. That makes 10 jobs for me too. I felt like I stayed at my last full-time job for two years too long. I should have joined a bucket shop for a big two-year guarantee and then quit. But if I did, I would have left a severance package equal to five years of living expenses on the table so I guess things kind of worked out.

Verdict: Five jobs after college. The first job is to learn. The second job is to earn. The third job is to take a big step up in pay and responsibility. The fourth job is to explore a new field because you’re sick and tired of the old one. The fifth job is to take another gargantuan leap in pay or find your retirement job where you can just chill out, like one of the thousands of people who work at a massive corporation. During these job transitions, I hope to goodness you’re working on a side-hustle as well.

A Wonderful Life Is What You Make Of It

I hope everyone can find a partner or a best friend to experience all of life’s highs and lows. My luckiest break really was getting an e-mail from my wife senior year in college wondering why I had skipped Japanese 101 class. Or maybe the real lucky break was having the foresight into thinking if I took Japanese 101 senior year, I could meet a girl just like my wife. After all, I could have taken any 101 class because I already had enough credits to graduate. Ah hah! Talk about predicting the future.

I’d consider giving up all my money to be in college again. But I wouldn’t trade my family for the world. Since reliving the past is impossible, we just have to make the best of the present. One spouse, one car, one house, one job is good advice. But it’s worth shooting for a little more if you have the courage.

Here are some other profiles I can think of:

The Monk: No spouse, no car, no house, no job.

The Minimalist: Maybe a spouse, no car, no house, a boring job that doesn’t pay well.

The Digital Nomad: Likely no spouse, no car, no house, a lifestyle business that requires cheaper living abroad.

The Early Retiree: A working spouse, a car, a couple houses, lives off spouse, investments, or side business.

The American: Onto their second spouse, two cars, rents, a soul-sucking job.

The Ultra-Wealthy: Onto their second or third spouse, three or more cars, five or more properties, runs a business that will never let them be free even though they have all the money in the world.

Readers, what do you think is the ideal number for each item and why? Which profile do you fit? 

The post One Spouse, Two Cars, Three Houses, Four Jobs appeared first on Financial Samurai.

from https://www.financialsamurai.com/one-spouse-two-cars-three-houses-four-jobs-wonderful-life/