#so now im operating under an ''out of sight out of mind'' rule

[merverelli]

🌌🧙‍♂️ "greetings! you speak now with interdimensional space wizard, galatax, on behalf of contasure insurance!" 🌌🧙‍♂️

finished ultramechatron team go the other week! heres fanart of galatax because i love him!

[legends-live-in-memories]

“How Did All This Happen?”- A Memoire by one Marinette Dupain-Cheng 2

wow. okay. so first off i dont have an update schedule but im on winter break starting next monday so i just have a lot of time on my hands. if this progresses into next year updates wont be as frequent. hell updates probably wont be as frequent next week either. who knows not me. Also i have a few spots left open on the tag list for those who were wondering.

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

without further ado 

People Fucked Up and Now It’s All Marinette’s Mess to Clean Up II

Marinette knew how she ruined the eastern coastline, but for all that is magical she could not fathom how that team of hero proteges managed to completely decimate the western side. She knew they were capable of it though, Constantine had warned her that they had an interesting habit of bending, if not outright breaking, the rules and legislation of the UN. He had also warned her that the group of Justice League mini-me’s had a unique calling card. The symphony of everything going to total shit in the background was the declaration of their presence on the island. She hasn’t even seen them from her new cliffside perch but she knew they were there by the distinct sounds of explosions. God, she hoped that super son wasn’t there. And she really hoped he didn’t get his indestructible hands on the magical dagger and destroyed it. It was one thing to return from this mission empty handed. It was an entirely different kettle of fish to return and join her grandfather in having “Broken a magical artifact” added to her list of crimes against the universe. Adrien would never let her live it down. No, Chloe would never let her live that down. She probably would put it on her headstone or something. 

Deciding she has wasted enough time, Marinette began enacting one of her contingency plans in hopes of salvaging this night. She had brought the Tiger, the Horse and the Cat miraculouses for this mission, fearing that a Ladybug Cure would bring too much attention to her and her family. She was right in that fear because reconstructing two coastlines would not fly under international radar.

She called upon the magic of the Tiger, camouflaging with the scenery as she made her descent back to where Kobra himself hopefully still was. 

She found him making his escape from the hellfest that was once their base of operation, followed by two other members. Marinette begrudgingly gives her thanks for the intruding hero team who distracted the cult from her presence and created enough wreckage that forced the cult members into separating. Sneaking up from behind, she jumped on the shoulders of the one furthest back. A swift jab to his throat, and Marinette was using his falling body as a springboard to kick the second cultist. At this point Kobra was aware of her presence and tried to attack her. Keeping the magical dagger on his person, he moved to grab Marinette by her hair. Extending the claws from her panja bracelet, Marinette slashed Kobra by his outstretched hands and used her semi-sentient tiger’s tail to retrieve the dagger. Before Kobra could regain his bearings, Marinette merged the Tiger and the Horse and made a hasty escape to her hideout.

She was greeted to the sight of her grandfather who Marinette believed was entirely too relaxed, enjoying some mint tea as he watched the night sky be curtained by smoke mushrooms from the nearby island. He was reclined in one of the couches in their AirBnB back in Trinidad. She dropped her transformations, Roaar and Kaalki flying to the kitchenette. Plagg slowly came out of Marinette’s purse and pointedly avoided her gaze. So the hellcat did have a guilty conscience, she lamented. Who knew? Apparently accidentally sneezing from the sand on the beach of Santa Prisca, and leaving behind a new cliff, was not one of the Destruction god’s finer moments. If he had any. 

“Don’t tell Tikki,” he began. And look, actual names, he must have been really embarrassed if that’s how he’s referring to his counterpart. 

“Don’t tell me what?” The answering scream Plagg released was actually comical and Marinette decided to be merciful. “Don’t worry Tiks, just a hiccup in the mission but all is well now.” Plagg looked at Marinette like he was about to lay worship to her for not selling him out. He took it in stride and joined the other Kwamis on the counter, already with a cheese wedge in hand.

“You did well, Mei,” her grandfather began. “I will report to Constantine and we will discuss further in the morning. For now get some sleep.” That was a dismissal if Marinette ever heard one so she placed the panja bracelet and the glasses, the tiger and horse miraculouses, back in the box and retreated to her room. A quick shower and a call to her parents later, Marinette was left awake in her room. Bored.

Plagg soon joined her, and despite his earlier reservations, he was brimming with chaotic energy. He had an idea and nothing spelt trouble faster than Plagg’s ideas. Apparently Plagg was curious about what the other young heroes were even doing on the island and wanted to know more. Now Marinette had half a mind to tell him to go by himself and leave her out of it. But she was kind of curious too. They weren’t after the dagger, that much she figured, or else Constantine would have had them go for it instead. So why were they there? A voice that sounded painfully like Kagami in her head told her not to be bullheaded and leave well enough alone.

Ignoring that advice, Marinette went to the den to retrieve the Tiger and the Horse again, the two most suitable for reconnaissance missions. Plagg, of course, would still be accompanying her for it was his shitty idea anyways. 

“Going somewhere?”

The two turned to come face to face with Wayzz, Tikki and Master Fu, all wearing matching faces of disappointment but not surprise.

“We were just going to stake out the island again, figure out what the other hero team were up to.” Marinette was not going to quiver under their gazes. No. Nope. Her maman may not have been an assassin, but she still didn’t raise a weak bitch. Hell, she shadowed one of the most feared assassins for her more formative years. She. Would. Not. Break.

“Why?”

“It was Plagg’s idea.” She broke. 

“HEY!” No offense to Plagg, but he was the only one out of the two of them that was immortal, he could survive Tikki’s ire. 

“It’s not a bad idea, Master,” bless Kaalki and all their endeavors. “If the hero team were not after the dagger, but still after the Cult of the Kobra, investigating would provide valuable insight to what plans the cult had for the dagger in the first place. And perhaps, allow us to put in cautionary measures to prevent the cult from finding other magical means to meet their ends.”

“Yeah, what they said.” Marinette wasn’t all in favor of extending the mission if they did find anything concerning, but she committed to this idea and she’s going to see it through. Logical rational and self-preservation be damned. 

Taglist:

@deathwishy @neakco @ virtualreading @f-rget-lt @your-resident-chicken-nugget @nathleigh @toodaloo-kangaroo @irontimetravelflower @trippingovermyfeet @t1dwarrior-of-earth @tip-tap-tired @fidget-eep @thenillabean @officiallydarkgeek 

[constablegoo]

@astralglam​​​​ filed a report .

mint: does your muse view themself as virtuous & moral? what do these words mean to them?

OHOHO. hey hi ily. this is, of course, one of odo’s deepest ongoing battles, and the moment he stops questioning it is the moment he becomes a founder.

the founders grant themselves god status.  GOD!  status. they just reach out and pluck it. Within their range of power, the founders become unquestionably Just and Virtuous and Moral, their Word becomes Law, it becomes “the way things are” and “fact” and they create their own reality stemming from thousands of years of intense xenophobia. they’re above it all. gods don’t make mistakes, right? sure, maybe changelings were hunted and feared ages ago but they still fear it, and that drive for Order and Control over the galaxy is now encoded into their genes and they place a companion structure into the genes of every other species they control, subjugating them to the founders’ own cozy position as Gods, or-- ‘gods’. the founder (i rly don’t like saying “female” founder so she’s THE Founder. she speaks for the link.) makes it quite clear on many occasions that the founders are not here to negotiate. they fully intend to control EVERYTHING at any cost. it is absolutely  chilling  when she cuts garak down with: “they’re dead. you’re dead. cardassia is dead.” and draws the line between the dominion and everyone else miles deep into the sand.

that same genetic coding is one of the first semi-concrete things odo comes to understand about himself and, horribly, he’s landed into conditions under the occupation that very easily could have taken advantage of a less meticulous or stubborn changeling. no, odo says initially (and incorrectly), i am not bajoran** and i am not cardassian and i stand apart from either side of this conflict and so i am bound to PURE Virtue and Morality because of it. he can’t be bribed or bought or won over, and he won’t allow for anything less than a kind of incorruptibility. this effectively wins him allies (and enemies) on both sides, however -- that’s just not how the universe works. the truth of it is that no matter how much he tells himself he is not a part of their regime, his working with the cardassians makes him a collaborator in that he has then recognized their authority and ultimately upheld their legitimacy, even if he never agreed with the cause, even if he was also on some level a casualty of it. at some point when he moves past ‘contract’ investigation and begins to work permanently, he falls into the trap of thinking Order is the same thing as Justice... huge yikes. in that moment he becomes a true and apathetic villain, but he’s subsequently haunted by the resulting execution of innocents. it shakes something up in him. years pass and he still wonders, what other mistakes has he made? what other less direct consequences of his ‘neutral’ arbitration exist? he (and everyone around him) has to live without really knowing, and it’s a constant reminder to him of the power he holds and it informs his understanding of what Real (and imperfect) Justice Means.

**sidenote but later in s7 he introduces himself as ‘from bajor’ and AAAAAA. its good. very good. yeah, you’re bajoran, odo. he gets it now.

Mirror odo is really the ultimate example of an odo having taken those instincts to extremes in an environment that rewarded him for them -- there is no guilt there, and even a sadistic kind of pleasure in it. i’d argue that gaia!odo is another, less extreme example of an odo who’s been alone too long and lost sight of things when he single-mindedly (and against kira’s wishes) chooses her (one person) over 8000. like holy shit? NOT ok? uhhuhhhhfff. anyway. very fortunately, neither of these are OUR odo, but act as great foils to reflect on the worst (bastard cop) qualities or potential qualities of our goo pushed to highly visible extremes, which star trek just loves to do all the time.

but regular/prime odo isnt exactly a rule-follower, either. throughout his life, he frequently takes things into his own hands, uses his abilities to his advantage, spies, wiretaps, eavesdrops, and yes, harasses [quark] sometimes -- he develops his own set of values and personal rules and follows them; even starfleet comes in wary of him and how he operates and hes on thin ice. but because of possibly his most redeeming quality, odo is able to adapt those self-ordained values toward something increasingly honest: for how rigid he can be in personality, he is HIGHLY influenced by the world around him,  listens hard  to what his friends and allies have to say and adapts that feedback; this allows him to evolve and grow and take important matters to heart. he becomes more flexible and better able to hold onto what’s really most important after locking into a decision, because above all else, he is passionately committed to doing the Right Thing. he PLEADS with himself in things past, “your job is to find the truth, not obtain convictions.” by his tendency to push back against what is laid down as ‘law’ (something he becomes more and more aware of and effective at doing) as not always being good or right, or necessarily even creating Order (the thing he’s driven genetically to want), he prepares himself to challenge the most deadly voice of authority -- that of his own people.

so... yes and no. odo’s role and persona as ‘your average security chief’ might dictate that he be virtuous and moral, but he so obviously can’t fit the same exact mold as others in his position -- he has these insane abilities and this mind-consuming nature and it requires he tread with extra care, but he also has a potential for more adaptive, more nuanced morality. he has to build up his own definitions to the words, constantly examine and tease and test them, or else he risks straying too far from what he really wants to achieve -- harmony, honest justice. he has to accept that he’s a part of the system he operates in (not, in fact, alone or isolated! something he actually wants), and know that he is not exempt from making the wrong choice, just like anybody else.

carnation: what is your muse’s relationship with their gender? how do they express or not express this relationship?

ODO AND GENDER!!! i love odo and gender. let’s take this one step at a time. he starts out as an amorphous glob -- he has no gender. there’s no basis for assignment, no culture of difference, and all the goos are goo. odo takes on the shape of the first living thing he sees / the thing he sees most frequently: dr mora. he adopts an image of masculinity from mora and he adopts the hair. that’s about it, and it’s pretty much arbitrary. (maybe the hair is simple enough for his skills, too?) the next people odo meets are also these very masculine, military, cardassian leaders, so again -- this is all he knows! this is neutrality. i imagine it takes him some time to work out what the differences in gender are, and sex, and orientation, romantic vs sexual stuff, all of that. it’s all got cultural baggage he knows nothing about and does not experience, and he’s also dealing with multiple, clashing cultures to boot. since he doesnt have any strong inherent leaning, he simply opts out. he/him becomes his default because thats where he started, thats what he’s been able to successfully present and how people know him, and, terrifyingly, under cardassian rule, it probably offered a bit of safety, too, which was obviously something he needed at the time.

way way way way way down the line in season seven, odo asks kira to (paraphrasing) look at me. what do you see? [i see you.] but this is NOT me, this is only a shape ive assumed in order to fit in. she says, yes, i know that. but this is who you have chosen to be. “a man. a good and honest man.” (i knowww shes not really talking abt gender here BUT) its hard as a trans person not to read the metaphor. he’s chosen to express SOMETHING. he’s chosen something other than what he was given (neutrality) and although he doesnt personally buy into what ‘masculinity’ “should be” (ie the ferengi, smh) / would certainly not argue he doesnt feel non-binary, this is how he has presented all his life, its how hes been treated, and it is what he has chosen to adhere to. there’s a choice in that, kira’s right, and now it reflects something about him.

parallel this, i’ll mention the “female” founder again bc of course there is no discernable reason for her to have a gender -- other than to appeal (im not talking sexually here although there’s,, obviously weird shit happening with the link... yike) to odo in the sense that until that point odo has lived with “gendered” individuals and, i think importantly, kira is with them when they first meet. i think its safe to say the founder saw her, figured she was a friend/ally to odo or at least familiar to him, and took her general representation to appeal as a friend/ally.

otherwise... why, honestly? the founder’s got NO love of humanoids lmao why would she bother.

anyway i’d like to see odo experiment a bit. because when hes safe, he can!! aside from his own doubts and insecurities about shapeshifting, at some point he really has no reason not to, at least a little bit. really, it should just be another thing to practice, much like becoming a convincing rock or a leaf, its just that there are other significances in the cultures around him. i’d just like to see him loosen up a little. have fun. grow ur hair out a bit, odo, why are u still looking like ur terrible dad.

[shhbean]

fuck it! some thoughts on al’s years in xing. if you guys have thoughts or criticisms let me know! i just wanna ramble lmao.

also don’t reblog lmao bc theres a lot of errors in here and its all sporadic and frankly embarrassing

okay so first things first i think in the two year gap between the promised day and the post canon adventures the brothers keep up a correspondence with ling and mei through letters (bc theyre planning this big adventure and its wild that they would show up unannounced even tho i know thats theyre style but als like. mmm dont want lan fan to execute me on sight)

side note! i think of xing as a relatively isolationist country, but with a phone and railway system that operates within itself, not on the outside (its a big country! people need to communicate!) ling is not against isolationism per say, only because drachma and amestris are still very much Major War Torn disasters, however ling puts a big emphasis on assisting refugees and families displaced by war. he also holds relatively frequent council with their bordering countries* *more on this later. but i dont see xing moving away from isolationism until ling is MUCH older. and even then most of their opening up mostly revolves around trade and world aid. 

ed sort of bangs his adventure out west in like a year and a half, because hes kinda. rarin to get back to rush valley and marry winry. al spends about three and a half years in xing bc he has to learn the language AND a brand new form of alchemic science. (with visits back to amestris for. weddings, occasional holidays and meeting his nephew and niece)

when al gets to xing the first thing he notices are 1) the food is incredible (though some of it is spicer than hed realize and amestrian food is blander than he thought)  2) the art and architecture is amazing and beautiful 3) he’s never worn silk before and he privately amends to never make that mistake again 4) ling has two modes Emperor mode and Ling mode (al has been on the receiving end of both 5) lan fan seems much happier 6) mei got taller

side note yes ed and winry have the emperor of xing and his sister, the princess and imperial alkahestrist at their wedding. no no one knows how the fuck to deal with it jfhgkjfdhjk

ling, in order to establish security for clans with less power appoints one family member from each clan to his court. hence why mei becomes imperial alkahestrist at 16. this ruffles a lot of feathers, and lings happy for it. 

in general one of lings biggest projects in his time as emperor is helping the poor and disenfranchised of xing. he has the aristocracy pretty much on its knees all the time. 

al spent so much time in the two years preparing for his trip studying up on xingese culture, tradition, and especially xingese aristocracy because he didnt want to offend an entire culture (he leaves that to ed) only for mei and ling to horrify the entire court by yanking al into a very tight HUG 

ling continues to horrify the court by asking al for advice and counsel in front of everyone lmao

lan fan has other family members! not just fu! she has a whole mom and two younger sisters. lan fan remains ling’s personal gaurd until she turns 20, and then she appointed captain of the guard. she really loves her job and honestly being home has made her 1000% more outgoing and confident (not when shes guarding tho obviously) 

lan fan’s family has their own suite in the palace, for being the yao’s families faithful servants. however once lan fan becomes captain of the guard she insists on sleeping in the barracks (this annoys ling greatly. though he doesn’t say anything)

mei is an INTENSE teacher. not so much izumi level bet she has al wake up at 6 am every day and run arrays for her until shes decided shes satisfied. al does not mind this, he likes watching the sun rise 

al takes awhile to learn xingese. and once he’s finally mastered it he’s better at speaking it than writing it (his script is basically chicken scratch) this sort of impedes his alkahestry lessons too because of a lot of the tomes and books on it are in xingese. a lot of al’s lessons are spent doing translations

jerso and zampano, somehow, pick up xingese stupid fast. al is furious lmao. 

winry and ed and their children (lil 1yr boy sig and actual baby baby girl nina) come out to visit at behest of ling. xing had no established automail program, just a few engineers here and there, so winry worked with him to train a few automail engineers. this becomes one of the only forms of trade that xing has with neighboring countries. an automail material trade agreement was presented by general mustang and signed off by emperor ling and furher grumman. (an eventually, would become a regular commodity of amestris under roy’s rule as furher) 

once his three years of research and study are up al (now 21, keeping track of ages for my benefit, bc this timeline largely exists in my head) heads back to amestris to write his paper and swap notes with ed, and eventually publish a book together. ed somehow earned a fucking PHD in three years while al was away. al is once again, is furious and super proud. (he privately amends to earn his in 2) he convinces mei (now 19) to tag along to help continue her own research on the link between alkahestry and alchemy. ling lets them go and starts a research initiative that funds their travels all over the world. 

mei and al visit scar alot on their travels, and while theyre in ishval they help out the community (doing wonderfully but still needs a hand every once in a while) wherever they can. mei’s always so excited to see scar. lots of hugs and catching up. scar always fixes al a hairy eye when he arrives with mei (note they are very much JUST friends at this point. scar does not care....probably having flashbacks from how quickly ed and winry got together fvjdghjkf) 

they also have tea with the newly promoted brigadier general and his captain every visit. who...share a tent. al and mei make sure not to comment. this does not stop jerso and zampano from commenting. (roy and riza are doing well though, and very much concede their authority to scar and miles on every deciding fact. reparations suits them) 

mei’s 22nd birthday is spent in ressembole where ed and winry and their babies have relocated. pinako (still holdin on strong) watches her great grand babies. ed and winry have alcohol for the first time in 5 years. chaos ensues. al and mei watch he stars and al starts to realize maybe. he might. have a crush. oh well. not going to address that. too much work to do. 

on al’s 27th birthday he has a mild crisis about how old he’s getting. ed, 28 a whole professor, with a third goddamn kid on the way, laughs at his pain. mei (24 now. jesus. im writing this why am i getting whiplash) receives a letter from miles telling her scar, much to humble to admit it, has been made lead representative speaker for ishval. he hints that al should be on the lookout for a letter coming his way. and sure enough, a letter asking if al would like to be the amestrian ambassador to xing arrives at their doorstep. 

and then its back to xing again to get ling to sign off on the order (of course he does) and to get his approval on al and mei’s courtship (re: not engagement. theyre very slow lmao). (that one requires a longer conversation wherein lan fan threatens al with a knife) 

[lattetae]

get to know me [pt. 21345789] tag 

RULES: you must answer these 92 statements and tag 20 people

tagged by the following sweeties : @puppytae @blumiin @kookmiinie @taeonie

i’ll tag [optional as usual] : @lovekyg @winktaes @donghunny ok i quit i don’t wanna bother 20 people lol but here are some new mutuals so hi!! obvs you don’t have to do this but i just wanted to show recognition! 

THE LAST:

1. drink: coffee

2. phone call: my mum

3. text message: ‘hows it hangin’ @ my friend

4. song you listened to: smooth operator - g.soul (he also just came out with a new hit n it was really good but like…idk i didnt hear as much of his nice voice as i thought i would?? maybe his style is changing since he left jyp idk)

5. time you cried: yesterday

6. dated someone twice: no

7. kissed someone and regretted it: no

8. been cheated on: no

9. lost someone special: all previous pets :’(((  

10. been depressed: i was depressed throughout high school and i think im better now thanks to leaving the shitty 12-16 education system. looking back on how i acted back then is like looking at a different person. but sometimes…i think we just pretend to be happy right?

11. gotten drunk and thrown up: im teetotal, although my sister constantly reminds me that i won’t stay like this for long. 

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS:

12-14: fawn, mustard, light green

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU:

15. made new friends: do tumblr buds count? if so - yes. :))) 

16. fallen out of love: no

17. laughed until you cried: yes! 

18. found out someone was talking about you: no 

19. met someone who changed you: people do change us but i don’t meet many lol i need to get out more? 

20. found out who your friends are: i guess i always knew….maybe i need more

21. kissed someone on your facebook list: fb is still breathing???

GENERAL:

22. how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: n/a

23. do you have any pets: two cheeky little fancy mice and one mischievous red cavapoo

24. do you want to change your name: i think everyone hates their name when they’re young, i always yearned for my name to be something different - ‘the grass is always greener on the other side’. but given the compliments that i get on my name now, i think i have grown to like it :)))

25. what did you do for your last birthday: i went to a chinese restaurant with my parents and my older brother. we had a huge vegetarian banquet (ahhh i hate wasting food so i tried to eat fucking loads lmao). 

26. what time did you wake up: 9.45am

27. what were you doing at midnight last night: watching a girl and three sweetheart - i loved it at first but you know when the storyline just slows its pace in the middle jfdskgfhg i’m like just get together already!!!!!

28. name something you can’t wait for: i need to make a phone call to sort a work placement out n the worry is at the back of my mind 24/7 so i can’t fucking wait until i have made that damn phone call. i’m procrastinating; i hate phoning :((

29. when was the last time you saw your mom: like 1hr ago? she was watching the great british menu lol she loves her cooking programmes (in contrast to me). i think she secretly dreams of working in the catering industry again.

30. what is one thing you wish you could change in your life: i wish that i had more confidence, i think that is the main thing that prevents me from achieving so much more. i doubt myself and i can’t do basic tasks with ease (such as making phone calls or even trying to get a weekend job). in that way, i think i’m such a failure lol. 

31. what are you listening right now:  E66S 卵 - I know where I’m going

32. have you ever talked to a person named Tom: yes (i appreciate the randomness) 

33. something that is getting on your nerves: my own thoughts afhkdsfh just stfu

34. most visited website: youtube

35. mole/s: arms n like a couple on my leggos

36. mark/s: tuan? lol nah i dont have any marks

37. childhood dream: i used to want to be a detective blessss

38. hair color: brown 

39. long or short hair: short

40. do you have a crush on someone: no

41. what do you like about yourself: i make decisions with my heart not my head. a lot of people would call that a weakness. not me lol

42. piercings: three. 2 on one lobe and 1 on the other. i rarely wear rings though bc i can’t fucking get my ball closure rings shut!!:((( i gave up long ago damn i forgot they even existed

43. bloodtype: my parents are both O so i’m guessing that i am an O too…or something went wrong lol 

44. nickname: saff, saffy

45. relationship status: single n ready to– stay single forever

46. zodiac: gemini

47. pronouns: she/her

48. favorite TV Show: six feet under is so good omg like i can rewatch that shit ughhhhhh i can’t recommend enough its just so realistic n deals with issues like death and relationships and internalised homophobia and depression and nymphomania and growing up and growing old. it. is. a. good. one. 

49. tattoos: i want some

50. right or left hand: right hand

51. surgery: i had a partial nail avulsion a couple years ago and it was a wild experience (which involved looots of waiting) but the nhs did me proud in the end :)) the doctor asked me what my fave band was (p!atd) and so he played a playlist of mvs on his little computer screen and all the nurses were reacting to it. 

52. piercing: same

53. sport: what is a sport lol no thx

55. vacation: japan

56. pair of trainers: i don’t own any trainers fkhdjg

MORE GENERAL:

57. eating: avocado skins are next to me - need more clues?

58. drinking: on my way to make another coffee

59. i’m about to: make a coffee

61. waiting for: my life to begin

62. want: to go grocery shopping soon

63. get married: i often romanticise marriage but i know that it has caused my mum to be trapped in her current one so yeah, that’s gonna be a no from me dawg

64. career: veterinary nurse – pls pray that i get all my grades bc im very worried at the moment :(((( 

WHICH IS BETTER?:

65. hugs or kisses: hugs bc they are rare and usually make me cry

66. lips or eyes: ?? both??

67. shorter or taller: taller

68. older or younger: someone with an old soul, but not necessarily old in age

70. nice arms or nice stomach: arms? idc

71. sensitive or loud: both at the same time

72. hook up or relationship: soulmate :’)

73. troublemaker or hesitant: troublemaker

HAVE YOU EVER:

74. kissed a stranger: im sure that i have kissed a strange dog..or rather it invaded my mouth with its tongue ajfhsdkfj does that count

75. drank hard liquor: no

76. lost glasses/contact lenses: who tf loses glasses - no

77. turned someone down: no

78. sex in the first date: no

79. broken someones heart: no

80. had your heart broken: im 17 ffs no lmao 

81. been arrested: no but i got detained in urban outfitters for stealing a ring when i was in high school hahahah. the security guard ran after me and my then friend and dragged us behind into some room and took mugshots on his phone. he then raided our bags… damn he was awful but luckily my friends mum came to pick us up or he said he would take us to the police. then we were banned from the shopping mall for a year and banned from all urban outfitters for 3 years! i havent been in since lmfao

82. cried when someone died: i had to go to a funeral for someone that i didn’t know and i ended up crying because of the atmosphere you know? also of course i have cried at all my previous pets deaths. 

83. fallen for a friend: no

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:

84. yourself: i like to think so but no i don’t aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa i hate myself for doubting myself so much

85. miracles: no

86. love at first sight: no

87. santa claus: of course ;)

88. kiss in the first date: is that even a belief?? i think that it is fine.

89. angels: eg. kim taehyung

OTHER:

90. current best friends name: ginny

91. eyecolor: brown

92. favorite movie: one of my faves is the man from nowhere. it is a korean thriller and a must-watch. one of my favourite english movies is jarhead, because apart from the fact that i love jake g, i also love the theme so much. i think it makes for some really interesting conversation. 

[ullielwrites]

「☩」    UPLOADING CRIMINAL RECORD… 

ALIAS(ES): Stefan Romulus Aleksandrov мороз -- Or “Moroz”

AGE & BIRTH DATE: 28 | 14 February 1989

ALIGNMENT: Lawful (Walking the Line Between Neutral and) Evil

CLASSIFICATIONS: Sky High Dropout (Hero) | Super-Villain | Faculty Member

OCCUPATIONS: Historical Analysis of Good and Evil | Detention Room Monitor

POWERS & ABILITIES: Cryokinesis | Cryo-Regeneration | Cryostasis

「☩」    RUNNING BACKGROUND CHECK...

In 1849, in a small Russian town, there were two super-powered brothers whom were running against each other for mayor: Cezar and Vodim Aleksandrov. While Cezar held an honorable campaign, Vodim sought to sabotage his sibling at every turn for reasons unknown even today, and eventually won the election. When Cezar learned of the scandals, this caused a massive fight that led to the ruination of not only the town, but the creation of the eternal snow in what are now the wilds of Siberia.

Though both brothers survived, a rift was formed between them and, as they went on to have families, a rivalry was born as either side was forbidden to even speak to the other, and almost all meetings resulted in a brawl. Stefan hails from Vodim’s side and, naturally, was raised with what had come to be villainous intentions to lead society into a new era of peace under the thumb of the powerful. Namely, their family and those whom they had deemed worthy to rule beside them.

By the time Stefan was supposed to enter high school, he had succeeded most of his parents’ teachings and already developed most of his power’s potential. The boy’s mother masqueraded as their family’s good half, enrolling him into Sky High with the mission of understanding the mindsets of future heroes and learning all he can about their superpowers so that he’d have an advantage.

While he was highly successful at both objectives, he’d lost his way upon befriending a few students, beginning to undertake a change of heart. Though, before it could fully manifest, his father withdrew him from the high school and took him out to their original home in Siberia, never to been seen again for many years.

After completing his training and going through several initiation trials, Stefan took the helm as this generation’s мороз; a mysterious - and immortal, as far as normal humans know - world-class villain that wants to control the homeland (Russia) and use their status to seek conquest on the rest of the world, giving evil a permanent upper hand.

For six years, his operations to overtake the President’s Council went smoothly as the family began manipulating over half of the ministers. Stefan had broken a lot of new ground for the villainous cause as he turned the citizens on their own leader, and they’d almost reached a tipping point as mutinous outbreaks started over the radically controversial laws that were passed under the corruption.

Tragedy struck when the heroic Aleksandrov, the first female in the other sides’ lineage, figured out and exposed the entire scheme, throwing five generations of hard work down the drain. Tracking him down to his headquarters underneath Siberia’s Kholat Syakhl, Stefan was defeated and publicly unmasked before being thrown into the International Super Society’s prison, where each cell is specially garnered for that particular villain.

Upon serving three years’ time with good behavior, he was given the chance to serve parole by becoming a teacher at Sky High, to which he dismissively agreed to. In reality, he would’ve taken on almost anything to get away from the torture of being stuck in an eternal dry heat while blindfolded and shackled. He currently acts as the history instructor, as well as the detention room monitor during after-school hours in exchange for comfortable housing and freedom to use his powers on-campus.

「☩」    DOWNLOADING MISCELLANEOUS ANALYSIS...

ACTIONS LOUDER THAN WORDS: Though the extent of them are unknown as he never speaks much outside of lessons, he is, first and foremost, a gentleman at heart, abiding by a code of conduct and honor. Secondly, he has been bred with evil intentions, and so his loyalties will always fall on family members, then fellow villains before all else. Thirdly, his personal actions must follow the laws set before him, which has allowed for some creative, slimy tactics on his part in the past. Since his father was normally out being a famous super-villain or on business (he owns a law firm in New York City) when not training the young boy, Stefan was raised under his mother’s protective wing. These sculpted his more tame “live, and let live” philosophies in comparison to his male ancestors’ vicious tendencies.

DEADLY BEYOND RECOGNITION: Aside from his masterful prowess over frozen tundra and the freezing of elements, he is classically trained Russian royalty i.e. has been taught traditional swordsmanship (mainly with rapiers and daggers) and highly versatile hand-to-hand combat (Krav Maga and Sambo). Stefan utilizes all-in survival techniques with quick and efficient strikes as well as many counter-attacks, alongside “sniping” when not in close quarters; his style combines agility and speed to reach maximum potential of his capabilities. Having both his hands and sight as catalysts for his capabilities - a deadly combination denoting that he inherited traits from both his father (another ice manipulator) and his mother (infamous for her Gorgon-esque powers), he is easily capable of killing normal men, and yet...

INNOCENT YET UNCLEAN: While charged with over 100 murders amongst other accusations, he is personally responsible for none of them. Imprisoned them? Yes. Emotionally and mentally toyed with them? Of course. Killed, physically touched (let alone tortured), and/or maimed, however? Never; his underlings carried out punishments of their own volition, and are much more outwardly aggressive than he has been.

FORMER MUSICAL PRODIGY: Through his mother, he developed a deep-seated passion since her day job was as a cellist for the New York Philharmonic. He learned to play the cello, piano, and also can sing quite well. Music became the way he coped with his morality struggles, making a routine out of practicing late at night or just singing to himself as he reads to whatever songs he’s listening to in the evenings. Though he once showed off his talents as a child, when Stefan grew more introverted post-education, he hid his skills so that other villains could take him more seriously. Though he’d never voice it aloud, Stefan’s dream career would be that of a composer, or at least a singer-songwriter, or a musician in a group with other equally talented minds.

RUMBLE AND SWAY: Though the heir apparent of the Aleksandrov’s former empire, he has a brother named Percival whom he almost always butted heads with. Don’t get him wrong -- he loves his only living direct family member, and would never give away his location, nor his current alias. But the younger sibling has teetered farther into neutral alignment, and has aided their heroic cousin in the past.

「☩」    SEARCHING FOR KNOWN RELATIONS...

IM SOO JIN - OLD FRIEND, FORMER PEN PAL: When he first started out at Sky High, Stefan was an intimidating figure; sharply dressed and groomed every day, he made it clear from the get-go that he was an academic that knew more than he let on, and almost always took dueling and team matches a little too far. In his small circle of friends, he was the quiet guardian, and it especially applied with the young senior, Soo Jin. Despite her graduating and moving away, as well as his eventual defection to evil, they maintained contact throughout the years, and she is one of the reason why he hasn’t completely gone on a revenge spree against every goodie two-shoe out there... yet.

KEIKO MINAMOTO - FRIEND OF A FRIEND, CARETAKER: (NOTE: BURN AND SCAR MENTIONS.) Meeting through her cousin, Soo Jin, the ice manipulator has trusted her with the terrible task of helping him maintain the burn marks inflicted across his torso and back; the permanent physical damage that the International Super Society left on him during his imprisonment. She’s one of few whom is aware of these constantly reopening scars, and he prefers it being kept hush-hush as to not show weakness in public. They generally enjoy each other’s company time to time during the school day, though there have been times Stefan’s been tempted to take advantage of her goodness to work in favor of his programmed drive to help sway students to evil.

[whimsically-ominously-auspice]

I love this girl. She make me laugh. She make me smile

And I know she's suffering and I know she's being honest.

But I feel and I understand her frustration and that is what makes me smile.

Y'all gotta watch she goes off on Corona and COVID -19 calling it a her and a she.

Saying she didn't do no wrong and she don't deserve house arrest.

I believe her and I love her for her pure honesty and raw anger and hate for the situation.

I felt that same so many times in my life for aliens and for situations beyond the means of the Earth.

People like her i been worried for. People trying their best But just one day its too much.

I worry because I'm like that myself.

While she seem like... A volcano... Realize she took herself outside. Yelled loud enough so the kids were warned to not approach her she needed her own anger time out.

And she yelled her heart and mind out. She yelled it so strong and powerful.

And for that i am proud of her.

I'm sure she went inside and gave them kids all the love they deserve and juice without making a pool.

You can send your kids in the backyard and play. I see there's a garage open... Let them draw with chalk and get out your pretty hair.

They're bored as you auntie. Idk if you're baby sitting or live in... But it seems like you got someone essential working, or someone other than you that isn't pulling "at home weight" as much as you.

Being in front of the open garage... Laughing a bit at yourself when you said you wanted to make lil girl a pool... Drinking.. Feeling trapped ... Just seems like Some one else is leaving every day and you can't. And if you ask me to look real good you was waiting the last few minutes outside for them to come driving up.

So you may wanna go pick up a Wal-Mart pick up order of grocery. It sometimes is a long line. I looked this morning and its all booked to Monday for my local one. But doing that will keep you in less contact with others thus ideally healthier. Then spin through the drive thru and take the long way home.

There's no law saying the stay at home personnel must stay home at all times. Just limited.

You wouldn't necessarily wanna go in the stores seeing as yoh are the number one to care for the children, auntie. As the germs are more likely to be there. But to do a pick up. Idk who else is doing pick up. We just have Wal-Mart here... But may be others,in your local area. Well pick up you Just verify its your order. Through your car window so it's very limited contact with one person and they load up your groceries and you sit and wait in the car.

At the same time there's no law you and the kids can't go in the store. Its just limited.

It's clear you're not going anywhere. You can go places. Just limited. I do believe you can get in the car and just go for a drive. Just get out in the car and drive wherever. Idk where you live and if they have a ban but here in New Mexico we can drive anywhere in the state. And hotels are still operating. So drive to the next city and get a hotel for a night.

Its okay in many areas to do so. Even in NYC you can book a room.

But if we have to social distance. And we are in our cars following traffic laws and just driving without getting out of our cars. Then we are obeying the rules.

Loop hole baby.

Many of us feel like our cars are as personal as our homes. So #stayhome would be same as #stayinthecar on a nice drive.

And she has a 3 year old. Its a perfect time to show her the neighborhood and let her get familiar with it and how to get to the store. Test the little one

So, then it falls under education.

Loop hole baby.

How a cop gonna be all "you can't"???

Now as long as you remember to say "we're doing this in case you get lost (or kidnapped) or get a ride from your friend's parent that i said you could and you can make sure you can tell them how to get home and/or make sure they're going the right ways to get home"

Then for sure a cop can't tell you you can't.

Just in case neighborhood watch don't recognize your car... And calls you in. And you have the little one repeat the lessons to you because you explain it So in case you do get stopped then they know what they are doing in the car with you. And the SMS if the cop check it will also notify "safe distance patrol" which means all you need is verification you live there. Car registration or ID is preferred. That is for a worried cop. What it does actually signal is "having fun let's join in, too" So, when or if you see the cop you can pull over and they can give you tips on being safe if the cop wants interaction currently they probably will not pull over because of social distancing. But all they're doing is saying "SMS notified action in the area. We want you to know if this happens you're safe"

Because home invasions will often use the victims car, if a a person inside is moving around or the cop senses something not,right they will pull over the car to double check. So an ID is the most preferred method and they will visually check all ID of all adult passengers if they choose but it is recommended.

So make sure you're following laws. Kids are buckled and you're going the posted speed limit.

If you're going to your house then back out and over and over.

This case im speaking would look suspicious. So you drive down to the 711 four times so they can memorize and no one gets out and yoh just keep driving that circle

Its how you need to teach the kids but it would look suspiciously to the SMS computer system and for our safety I don't want to override it.

I'd rather a nice cop check and speak to the kids and thank the adults for looking out for the children's safety and for helping them do their jobs.

Usually a cop isn't in protocol to pull over unless its a wreckless danger. So like if I'm a kidnapper I'm a trip out. And either gonna try to get away from the cop or drive super cautious.

So cops may do some Dick moves around you to check you.

So y'all teaching your kids how to get home safe realize the cop is trying to protect you and realize they are in practice mode they may not think so but you know they are. So they may pull you over and so you have already explained to the car what y'all doing. So everyone should be able to explain it back to anyone.

So otherwise just take a nice long drive to the next town and then turn around and just have a nice drive.

Take time to see sights you don't normally see. Or like say you been wanting to go to the zoo but you're unsure of the drive. Well there's no traffic so you can practice driving there so you learn that way to get there easy.

But #StayInTheCar.

I love this girl in the video so much i made a movement after her.

Remember #DriveSober

So staying in the car does mean drive through!

Get you and your babies a treat. So them Quarentine Loop Hole fries are all jacked up and down under the seat until for eternity.

So y'all Just let your family out. Don't keep your beauties locked in because it's safest. Get a little creative.

So babies with some chalk. Or in the backyard playing ...pick up some balls online... Like Oriental Trading company is cheap and i know that you can get a dozen of a variety of different balls. And jump ropes and all kinds of things delivered straight to your house. Chalk, too.

Now you could stay in your little square in the front yard but i would imagine the back yard is more contained. Something with a fence and that is just for safety and not so much about social distancing But just to "stay in the yard" and not deal with nothing bull shit someone bored can come up with.

So I know

.i been waiting... I been i know people are losing their shit.m. I need to see it so I know what to say or do.

So thank you, ma'am for being so public and raw and straight from the soul and heart.

Letting your frustration out so the dark grainy images of my imagination have a voice and a way to be visible to the needs of the world.

Because I'm not realizing what all is going on every where so i need my Soul Warriors letting it out to be known.

My life i go out and my daughter has been trapped in and she don't mind so much but last night finally i could take her to the gas station just for a minute late late night... We both had to wear masks... She was all "I don't want you getting sick" and so i told her "you need to wear one too"

Which i was glad we did because the car we borrowed is leaking antifreeze into the car and it stinks like Hell and a smoker it makes me cough like Hell so the mask actually helped a lot. So i didn't cough with it on. So after this is all over if i borrow his car youre gonna see me wearing a mask just so i came breathe unless i fix my car... And Idk...

So y'all if you're tripping or tense or even if you're not because you're just trying to chill and cope and Don't realize you're building up a bubble of lava

Switch it up a little bit!!! Y'all are all up in there together you know your schedules. Who does what and who dont do what.

Who don't ever leave.

At least open windows. Something. Switch it up.

Y'all essiential workers coming home to dinner made and a clean house... Y'all gonna come to a volcano one day and don't know why

Then you gonna make it worse all what the Hell? What i do?! You wanna go to work?! I'm doing all i can to keep this home together and you act like that?!

And mother fucker honey. You're gonna get stabbed in the throat.

The shit just builds. This is why I didn't like this plan.

It builds on both sides. Believe it or not the ones going out are worried about the ones at home getting sick. And actually about them being cooped in... Some are.

But i know without a doubt they're loving home cooked meals and the family all home and safe and the house all clean

Hello were in the 1950s

So yo let the adults trapped at home drive the car if they are licensed. Let them capture that freedom..sit in the passenger seat and be the host. Sit side way and make sure the back seat is being good. Talk to them. Give them love and attention

Let that adult box herself in to a space filled with love for the family and her have that freedom at the wheel

Because that is what it is. She/he running that home. You need to give her a break stop them kids from going on about auntie and momma and so on and give them the strong love and attention they deserve. "How was your day?" "You looking how to get to the store?" "What is that street name?"

Just let her be quiet and enjoy the ride.

As women that's all we want.

Control. Lol. And love. Attention. Help. Strength. Patience.

And I know men want the same exact thing.

But we need to switch it up. Add some spice to the bland. Or its gonna taste like lava and not lots of lova.

Y'all know i am the Queen of Lava.

And y'all going out. Make sure you're on time!

But take them stuck in the house out.

I prescribe no less than a 30 minute outing. I saw gas here was $1.58 on the interstate for regular. I know places like California and New York are lots more and i know some places are even cheaper. But point. DNA4U says y'all should be able to afford it. Every where it must be less than $3 per gallon for even premium. Right?

So #StayInTheCar and check out some low cost online shopping. They are essiential employees.

And love yourselves even if you turn into a tornado spewing lava hurricane

And if someone around does. Love them

Help them. Add something they need to your routine.

Its not too late to save a life.

[notesfromthepen]

THE MAKING OF AN OUTLAW

THE MAKING OF AN OUTLAW

I was five years old when I smoked my first cigarette. 

It took me and my best friend john a week of planing. Which is an eternity when your five. A few days in and we seriously considered just waiting until we were adults. But the plan was already in motion.

We lived in military housing for enlisted men with families in Fort Campbell Kentucky. Military brats. We stayed just a few houses from one another. Initially you might think that growing up on a military base would provide the much needed structure and discipline to otherwise deviant youths. You'd be wrong. In a way we were all children of single parent households. The patriarchs were gone all day, at the same time, creating a "Lord of the Flies" free-for-all for the hordes of adolescents that swarmed the base. Many firsts in my life happened on military bases. Where men are men and kids are heathens.

John and I were best friends, more like co-parented brothers actually. We spent most of our time at his house. He had all the cool shit, namely a Nintendo game system. Our households were very different. Both with macho, old school, fathers who believed a good ass whooping trumps a good talking to every time. But that's where the similarities ended.

My house was what you'd probably expect of a decorated military man and war hero. The air of a no nonsense authoritarian rule filled our dwelling and my psyche. However that was only when dad was there. Mom was the complete counter balance to dads energy. A punk rock chick that spent her teens partying with bands and madman like the Ramones, MC5, and Patti Smith. Mom has always been a free thinking, tough, rebellious, and completely loving woman. It was a completely odd paring but the balance of the two extremes worked well. 

Johns house was a completely different vibe. Where my house had two strong personalities that competed for control. Johns had one clear ruler and his agenda was decadence and fun. They had all the newest toys and implements of entertainment. Big TVs, calico vision, VCR's and...... A Nintendo Entertainment System!.. The N.E.S! For those of you who were born in to a world with preexisting gaming systems I cannot over state the mind blowing affect of the first Nintendo system.

Johns parents smoked like chimneys, drank competitively and had a knee high stack of playboys next to the toilet.. A fucking wonderland for a kid. I wasn't aware of the term "white trash" at the time and even of I was, if that's what they were, I would have thought of it as high praise. 

All the houses on the base were the same. Bare bones, two bedroom houses with a flat roofs and a wooden sheds towards the back. 

Much of the neighborhood debauchery took place in or around those sheds.

Its rare to be able to pin point exactly when and where you became a man. For me it was the first time a caught a glimpse of the inside of johns dads shed. Every inch was plastered with the centerfolds of adult magazines. Vixens with giant breasts, startling tan lines and even more startling bushes (it was the eighties). It might sound tame now, in the post internet world of porn hub but trust me when I tell you it was life changing. Im pretty sure that I sprouted a single pube right there on the spot.

Neither me or John were saints before our latest plan. We'd both sipped the last swigs in our dads beers before, took part in petty vandalism, had been into our fare share of fights, and we were now both veterans of perusing adult magazines, and so we decided the next logical step in our initiation into adulthood was to start smoking cigarettes. Again...We were five!

It wasn't a complex plan, however it was high risk. Since we were practically men now a lil risk was nothing to be afraid of. 

We made a list of the implements necessary to accomplish our goals. It was a short list: A lighter, two cigarettes, and that's pretty much it. We would get the supplies in stages. We decided to get the cigarettes first. They would be the least likely to be missed. If we made it through phase one unnoticed and unscathed then we would proceed to phase two operation "fire grab". Which was just the stealing of a lighter.

The heist would take place at johns house because, well, my parents didn't smoke. We staked out the area, the players, and the goods for a full day. Johns dad was a "no-go" for several reasons. one: he wasn't there during the day. Two (and far more importantly): was the real threat of physical violence. Johns mom, on the other hand, was there all day, left her cigarettes in the kitchen, and we were confident that we could out run her if shit went sideways. She would be the mark. 

The next day we would snag one cigarette from her pack, stash it,.and repeat the process the following day, as to not arouse the suspicion that two missing cigarettes might cause.

John showed up at my house right after breakfast. We walked to his place and formulated our plan of action. Since his mom was never stationary for too long we'd need a distraction. That would be johns job. Leaving the thievery to yours truly.

We approached his front door. My heart rate began to increase as we closed in on the threshold to the little square house. Upon entering, the kitchen was immediately on the left. John pointed a the table at the far end of the kitchen. He mouthed the words "right there". A soft pack of cigarettes sat under a red lighter perched atop the table. I tip toed into the kitchen as he went to run interference on our unsuspecting mark. His mom sat on the couch in the living room folding laundry in front of the TV. Between the laundry and the soap opera drama she was completely enthralled. In hind sight our "distraction" was not only completely unnecessary but it almost did us in. As I approached the table and silently lifted the lighter off the the pack of smokes, John said "hey mom whatcha doing?" 

There were two doors leading into the kitchen. One in the entryway of the house and the other, at the other opened into the living room, where johns mom sat with her back to me and the table. If she turned around she would have immediately saw me handling her pack of cigs.

Johns question startled her out of her soap induced trance. She briefly looked around. I froze with lighter in one hand a her pack of smokes in the other. My heart had never beat so fast. Just before her head swung around far enough to witness the crime in progress John picked up the remote and changed the channel. "Can we watch Space Balls?" asked my codefendant. She stopped dead in her tracks “Goddamn it John!! Go out side and play!" To this day I've yet to meet more than a handful of people more capable than a five year old John in that moment.

As quick as a magician I pulled a single cigarette from the pack, placed it back on the table and positioned the red lighter on top, exactly as I found them. 

With the contraband secured we shot out of the house like two bottle rockets. The screen door slammed behind us partially trapping the string of obscenities that followed.

Once far enough away we slowed to a walk. My heart still pounding but in a different way. 

So began my true addiction. An addiction to that special mix of adrenaline and chaos brought on by the subverting of rules. An addiction that has followed me like a shadow for my entire life.

It wasn't the first cigarette that I'd ever seen but it felt like it.I rolled it between my fingers examining its details. I looked the little brown filter with the tiny imperfections in the coloring. I noticed the horizontal lines, so thin that they were almost invisible, on the white paper of the cigarette. I stuck it under my nose like a fake mustache and inhaled the aroma. it smelled so much nicer that the ones in he ashtrays at johns house. I looked around before letting it hang from between my lips like I'd seen the neighborhood teens do at the park. John was less enamored by the spoils of our heist. He'd probably already done this foreplay to smoking a few times.

We made it to the shed of a uninhabited house on my street. I went in and stashed the cigarette on one of the two by fours in the dark wooden box. Step one was now complete.

The plan was to let another day pass before going back to snag the remaining implements of our delinquency.

The next day, our day of inaction, crept by at a snails pace. We bull shitted around trying to distract ourselves from the single cigarette waiting to be smoked in the empty shed. 

There were two parks on the base: Sunny park and Shady park. At that age things are clearly defined, either black or white. There aren't many grey areas when your five. The two parks on the base were perfect representations of this hard line. The parks gained their nicknames obviously enough; one was sunny and the other shady. But the meanings ran deeper and its taken years of perspective to fully appreciate the depth and meaning of the two parks.

Sunny park was designed by convince. The block of houses in the center of the neighborhood created a huge field in their collective backyards. In the center of this sea of green sat the makings of a playground: swing sets, monkey bars, a slide, a merry-go-round and a big dome of interconnecting metal bars that created a geometric contraption to play on or bash your shins against. Not a single tree or bush grew in the field. Every inch was bathed in unobstructed sunlight and every action visible from the rear windows of the surrounding houses. Windows constantly manned by the bored and nosey housewives of the enlisted men. 

No one under the age of twelve used Sunny park for anything other than a short cut to the other park.

Shady park, on the other hand, was designed by no one.

Shady park was tucked away in a wooded area, on the outskirts of the neighborhood, hence the name. Dirt paths leading in and out of the park cut between the towering trees. The occasional few rays of sunlight that made it through the foliage created islands of light on the park floor.

I'd walked past Shady park everyday on my way to school. From the side walk you could hear the older kids in the park skipping school. The crash of breaking bottles, foul language, and general teenage revelry was the soundtrack to my walk. Every few steps I'd catch a glimpse of the forbidden playground and its inhabitants. A mixture of fear and excitement gave goosebumps to my skin.

So in an attempt to burn through the rest of our day, while we waited for tomorrow to bring us phase two of our heist, we decided that we were ready for a romp through the darker of the two parks. After all, we were just a few days and a couple of puffs on a cigarette away from becoming men.

I remind you that this was the eighties. A decade where the, now cliche, douchebag bullies from eighties movies really existed. 

Around the same time one of my cousin Judy's "friends", complete with long ratty hair, fingerless gloves, and a single dangly cross earring, flinched at me like he was gonna punch me in the face and said "Fuck you pussy!" Again, I was five! He must have been seventeen going on forty. I was so young, small, and Asian that he had to flinch down at me.. This goon was completely serious too. A hundred percent unaware. It was so par for the course at the time that only after entering adulthood did I realize how ridiculous it was. 

Man I miss those days and that specific brand of asshole. And I only mention this to give reason for our trepidation of Shady park and the characters we were likely to meet up with.

John came over and we walked towards the park. We approached the foot path that lead into the park. A path that I'd walked past a thousand times, always knowing, in the back of my mind, that the time would come when I was meant to follow it. Today was that day. Ten steps in and we were in a different world. It was oddly quiet and noticeably darker. The thought that we'd interrupt a group truant teens knee deep in some sort of unholy communion made me queazy. John was the silent type but I knew he felt the same. 

About ten yards in, the narrow dirt path split in two, then three, then four paths, before opening up to the Shadiest of parks.

Huge sections of concrete tubes, big enough for us to walk through, littered the park at random intervals and angles. The left over artifacts of some unfinished drainage project. Each cylinder with its own custom smattering of spray painted obscenities and vulgar pictograms. Some familiar others confusing. On one tube, a giant red dick seemed to be assaulting some sort of hairy clam standing on end.

The park felt and sounded empty. 

We huddled in the first tube that we came to, the one with the clam, to get our bearings. The bottom of the tube glittered with jewels. Diamonds, emeralds, and gems of every color crunched under our feet. At the opening of the other end of the tube sat the biggest gem id ever seen. An emerald with part of a 7up logo on it. Some of the smaller shards had been there so long that their edges were dull and rounded. We picked the best ones and put them in our pockets, to build our fortunes with later.

We exited the concrete tunnel and made our way into the heart of the park. An old swing set was the center piece. Large chunks of green paint had been chipped away exposing rusted metal. The stillness and the silence made for an eerie setting. John kicked one of the swings. The chains creaked and rattled forever. It was like time stopped. Like we were un-welcomed visitors. We were technically [in] the park but something was off. We were tourists. Sightseers... Trespassers. 

We walked to the decrepit merry-go-round and sat down. It groaned under our insignificant weight. I don't remember what we said. Probably nothing. John kicked at some pebbles. The chains of the swing set eventually went silent. 

Finally, I said "let's get outta here." 

We walked home in relative silence. I knew that things would be different once we smoked those cigarettes. The forbidden part of the world would finally open up to us. We'd be adults. We'd be enlightened.

I could hardly sleep the night before the next phase of the heist. It was like Christmas morning. I woke early, poured a bowl of cereal, and sat down in front of the TV. Before I could drink the pink tinted milk from the bowl John was at the door.

"Bobby, John's here." I jumped up, tossed the bowl into the sink, and ran outside.

When I saw john he was already smiling. "You ready?" he asked. 

Now, the plan was to grab the last cigarette today and the lighter tomorrow. So I assumed he meant "was I ready for phase two?" When in fact he meant "Are you ready to do this?" 

He looked around before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a a single cigarette and a red lighter! What i did to deserve such a sneaky, conniving, grab the bull by the horns, type of best friend like John I'll never know, but I was grateful.

My palms started to sweat. Hesitation and fear fought for control. Reasons to abandon our plan suddenly flooded my mind. However it didn't take long for another kind of fear, the fear of looking like a pussy, to override my better judgement. Such is life. 

With chests out, strutting like roosters we walked to our shed of inequities. Some of the neighborhood kids were gathered in a driveway. They couldn't help but notice the confidence. Or maybe it was the cigarette that dangled from my lips. I pretended not to notice them as we neared, feigning a conversation with John. 

One of the kids, I can't remember his name, ran up and asked "John, what you guys doing? That ain't a real cigarette is it?" 

To which I smirked at him. 

"Nothing" said John and we kept walking. John flicked the lighter as we made our way down the street.

We made it the house, up the side and to the shed out back. John struggled to open the door. He had to lean with all his weight to force it open. 

I followed him into the dark and musty wooden box. I grabbed the cigarette that we'd stashed away and tried to hand it to John. His back was to me as he leaned his head out the door.

"Get outta here, we're busy!" 

"Here" I said and handed him the cigarette. As he took it I glanced out the door. The two boys we walked past were coming up the side yard. I pretended to be pissed but was secretly glad to have an audience. I mean what was the point of being an outlaw if no one was there to witness it? 

At this point the cigarettes were merely symbolic. 

"Forget them" I said.."Gimme the lighter." 

I grabbed the lighter and flicked it several times before it sprung a flame.

This was years before burn stop cigarettes and child-proof lighters that infuriate the drunk and elderly smokers of today. 

I held the lighter out and lit johns cigarette before lighting mine. 

I need to make this perfectly clear. At the time I had absolutely no idea how to inhale. The idea alone would have confused me. As far as I was concerned you just puffed on the cigarette by pulling air into your mouth. But none of it really mattered. This wasn't about smoking anymore. It was about rebellion.

We both stood there puffing away, filling the small shed with smoke almost immediately. I did my best impression of an outlaw who had done this a thousand times. But the fact that my eyes were starting to water from the smoke almost gave me away for the rookie I was. 

As I fought back the tears two more nosey kids made their way up to the shed. It was the two black girls that lived next door to me. They were sisters (I mean that in their relation not color, though I guess both could apply). I don't remember their names and any attempt to guess would probably just come off as a tad "stereotype". 

I do remember that, of the two, I liked the younger one. She was sweet and funny. Her older sister was an asshole, already jaded by the ripe old age of seven. She was mean and spiteful. I was actually glad that she was there to witness my bad-assery, maybe now she would give me the respect that I deserved. 

The entire time the onlookers said nothing. They just stood witness, looking dumbfounded. 

We finished our cigarettes, left the shed, and walked through the kids gathered around the shed. The older of my neighbors, the jaded seven yr old, said "ewwwwww" in a admonishing tone as we walked by.

John and I walked home together. The only words spoken were his":I gotta get this lighter back." I nodded and we parted ways. 

I got home and went straight to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I went to my room and sat on my bed. I sat there staring at my Hulk Hogan poster and realized that I didn't feel any different. I wasn't more mature. I wasn't more bad-ass. I wasn't an Outlaw..

Some time passed, it felt like hours but I can't be sure, when my mom opened my door a crack and said "don't go anywhere your dad wants to talk to you when he gets home." My heart sank. I knew it was a wrap. Right then and there I knew it was over. A mixture of panic, embarrassment, and fear set in.

I wasn't a tough guy. I was a scared kid afraid of an ass whipping.

It turns out that as soon as we left the shed the neighbor girl ratted me out. My dad came home, promptly threatened to hand me a sore ass, reminded me that I was anything but a tough guy compared to him, and grounded me for a month.

So there it was: my life as an outlaw had started and ended in a single afternoon.

Life has a strange way of giving you, not what you want, but only what you're ready for in that exact moment. And there's no way of cheating life. No way of speeding up the process.

And so for the time being, Shady park and my life as an outlaw would have to wait...

[mrcoreymonroe]

Drones in our Airspace

The most common use of drones include videography and photography.

When was the last time you buckled yourself into the cockpit of your plane, tuned in the ATIS, prepared to taxi and thought, “I wonder if I’m going to hit a drone when I take off today?” The answer is probably never, and that may be appropriate for 2018. The chance of a collision with a drone today is probably less than being hit by a bus as you cross the street or winning Powerball, or both of those things happening at the same instant. The problem is that the odds are going to get higher for drone/aircraft collisions, as the numbers and types of aircraft occupying our airspace are expected to increase dramatically soon, with most of that increase expected to be due to drones.

Drones are here to stay. Not only are they here to stay, but it may surprise some who have not been following this topic closely to learn that the number of registered drones already far surpasses the number of registered GA, air taxi and commercial aircraft combined, and that gap is expected to grow dramatically in the coming decade. For example, based on FAA statistics, in 2017 the total number of registered aircraft in the general aviation fleet and air taxi fleet was 213,050 with an additional 7,141 commercial aircraft. Based on the FAA Aerospace Forecast Fiscal Year 2018-2038, numbers for general aviation, aircraft and air taxis are expected to hold steady for the next two decades while the number of aircraft in the U.S. commercial fleet is forecast to increase to 8,290.

By comparison, nearly a million drones had been registered with the FAA by the end of 2017. FAA forecasts approximately 2-3 million additional will be registered by 2022, and some experts believe that that forecast severely underestimates the coming wave of drones. Since manned aircraft and drones will be increasingly sharing airspace, irrespective of the type of certificate you hold, it’s important that we all understand the rules of the airways for both manned and unmanned aircraft. The recently passed FAA reauthorization bill could also result in significant changes in rules for drones, including night flying and beyond visual line-of-sight flying, underscoring the need for a broad understanding of the rules for unmanned flight in the airspace we all share.

Drone, Drones And More Drones

Before going any further, the terminology around “drones” can be confusing, so let’s start with “what is a drone?” For our purposes, we’re not talking about the military behemoths that we hear about in news reports, such as the MQ-9 Reaper with its 65-foot wingspan and 4900-pound empty weight. The regulation of these aircraft in U.S. airspace (known in FAA parlance as Large Unmanned Aerial Systems) is a different topic and outside the scope of this article. What we refer to here are “unmanned aircraft weighing less than 55 pounds on takeoff, including everything that is on board or otherwise attached to the aircraft.” Such aircraft are referred to by the FAA as small unmanned aircraft. When referring to these small aircraft and all of their associated communications links and controllers, the FAA designation is small unmanned aircraft system (sUAS).

Although aircraft in the sUAS category can weigh up to 55 pounds, in practice, the vast majority of these drones weigh far less. The market leader here is DJI, and some of its most popular models weigh less than a pound (Spark), 1.6 pounds (Mavic Pro), about 3 pounds (Phantom 4 Pro) and 7.6 pounds (Inspire 2). However, it also offers drones that are listed as having a maximum take-off weight of just under the 55-pound maximum for this category. Other manufacturers, such as Yuneec and Parrot, have other offerings across the weight range, but the lighter-weight models are most prevalent. Drones weighing less than 250 g (0.55 lbs) do not need to be registered with the FAA and often have no capability for connecting to the internet. UAS weighing more than 55 pounds must be registered using the existing aircraft registration process (14 CFR part 47). The recent surge in popularity of drones is primarily rotary aircraft and can be quadcopters, hexacopters or octocopters.

However, there are many models of fixed-wing aircraft that fall under the sUAS designation that is used for both recreational and commercial purposes.

Drones are used to monitor construction sites.

Pilots of manned aircraft need to know about where drones might be found in airspace and how they are regulated as part of standard risk assessment for any flight. However, the explosion in the numbers of registered drones, different categories of drone operators and recent changes in certification and regulation make a complete and up-to-date understanding challenging. In addition, as the numbers of drones increase, so does the probability of drone encounters, further underscoring the need for understanding how drone encounters comprise an aspect of risk assessment.

Drone flight is regulated by the type of drone, the use of the drone, the certification of the pilot operator, local airspace considerations and other factors, such as weather and time of day. As already described, drones in the sUAS category are those weighing 0.55 to 55 pounds. Aircraft is this category can be further divided into model and non-model. Most drones registered by the FAA in the recent past are characterized as model aircraft and are typically flown by hobbyists who require no certification from the FAA. The primary uses for model drones are for the simple joy of flying or for non-commercial photography or videography. Operators of model sUAS do not require a certificate from the FAA.

By comparison, non-model aircraft are those that are flown for commercial purposes and, for operation, a certificated pilot is required. The interesting thing about the distinction between model and non-model drones is that the same drones used by modelers are often high enough quality for commercial applications. For example, many commercial applications of drones simply require the ability to capture high-quality aerial images. These applications include real estate, roof and solar panel inspection or construction site monitoring. Example images are shown for each of those categories taken with the lightweight DJI Phantom 4 Pro. Other commercial applications such as professional cinematography and agricultural application require heavier drones capable of carrying a heavier payload.

Under current rules, there are two ways that sUAS can be flown legally, both of which require that the drone be registered with the FAA. Drones can legally be flown for hobby or recreation only without an FAA certificate by flying within visual line-of-sight, away from other aircraft, and by notifying any airport or air traffic control tower within five miles of the flight. Under normal circumstances, hobby flying cannot be done in Class B airspace. Hobby flyers are also expected to follow community-based safety guidelines and are prohibited from flying near emergency response efforts.

Drone operators can legally fly for recreational or commercial use by obtaining a Part 107 Remote Pilot Certificate. Like hobby flying, remote pilots flying under Part 107 must fly within visual line-of-sight, away from other aircraft, only in daytime or civil twilight with clear visibility at an altitude of less than 400 feet AGL. A big difference between hobby and Part 107 flight is that Part 107 pilots can operate in Class G airspace near airports without contacting the airport. Also, rules related to Part 107 are subject to waiver, which may permit flying at night or above 400 feet, for example. Flying under Part 107 allows operators to take advantage of the newly rolled out Low Altitude Authorization Notification Capability (LAANC) system, which provides a mechanism for flying in controlled airspace near airports using Airport Facility Maps, which specify altitude restrictions using a grid system superimposed upon the airport map. Finally, other restrictions for both hobby and Part 107 flight relate to flight in national parks, Special Use Airspace, near stadiums and sporting events, and near wildfires. Again, when operating under Part 107, waivers may be available for some of these activities depending on specifics. Commercial apps such as AirMap provide a graphical example of airspace limitations for hobby flying compared to Part 107 and Airport Facility maps; lists of airports currently participating in LAANC and related information can be obtained from the FAA website. (Note, there are other ways to fly a drone legally for commercial work, such as under what is known as a Section 333 Exemption, but these are largely being superseded by flight under Part 107.)

What’s The Risk To Us?

Now that we’ve described the type of drones that have been garnering so much publicity recently, where these drones can be flown legally and who flies them, let’s return to the question of how much of a safety risk drones represent for manned flight and how to assess that risk. Obviously, the only real risk to manned aircraft of a drone is a collision, so what are some of the factors that could determine the likelihood and severity of a manned aircraft and a drone collision? Some that come to mind are altitude, weight and construction of the drone, type and construction of the manned aircraft and location of the impact on the manned aircraft airspeed. Under normal circumstances, with current regulations, drones will not normally be found above 400 feet AGL. On the other hand, fixed-wing manned aircraft will normally be below 400 feet AGL only shortly after takeoff and on short final approach for landing. Similarly, a large majority of drones are registered in the model category and so are likely to be on the lower end of the weight spectrum. These aircraft are limited in airspeed by regulation to 100 mph (87kts) but in practice, drone airspeeds in the range of 20-30 mph are probably more common.

For aircraft taking off and landing, the exact speeds vary by type of aircraft. In general, however, when thinking about the highest probability event for a collision between a drone and a manned aircraft, in aggregate these factors would suggest that the most likely event would be between a small drone and a much larger manned aircraft, both operating at relatively slow airspeeds. Current regulations for drone flight are designed to minimize drone manned aircraft “kinetic impact,” taking exactly these factors into account. So would a drone versus conventional aircraft midair collision be catastrophic to the piloted aircraft? It’s possible but highly unlikely.

It would seem, then, that even with an enormous increase in the numbers of drones in U.S. airspace, the risk of coming to harm due to a collision with a drone is exceedingly low. One additional factor, however, is that there are frequent reports of drone operators not following safety guidelines. Based on FAA sighting reports, there were just under 2000 instances where drone operations raised concerns from November of 2014 to June 2018. These included reports of drones operating dangerously in airport traffic patterns and instances where drones were operated far above the typical 400-foot AGL altitude restriction. Since a $1500 drone like the DJI Phantom 4 Pro (the one I own) has a service ceiling reported by the manufacturer of 19,685 feet, it may not be surprising to read in these sighting reports that drones were spotted at 8,000 feet. A drone being operated at 8000 feet, however, would not only be violating the 400-foot altitude limit. At that altitude, it’s a certainty that the drone operator also would be violating the regulation for keeping the drone within visual line-of-sight.

Inspecitions are another common drone application.

What, Me Worry?

As the pilot of a manned aircraft, then, how much concern should you have about drones? Probably the best way to think about it is by comparison to birds. It has been estimated that there are about 10 billion birds in U.S. airspace. Like most pilots, I’ve have had close encounters with birds comparable to the most common drones on many occasions and have never experienced a bird strike, nor have I lost a moment of sleep worrying about it. When there are birds on the runway or in the vicinity when getting ready to take off, our awareness of them as a risk is heightened. Likewise, if you are aware of drone operations nearby, heightened awareness about their operations is justified.

If drone collisions represent less of a risk than other risks we commonly treat as acceptable, as pilots of manned aircraft, why pay much attention to drones? One reason is that for anyone with a more traditional type of certificate, this is about the easiest add-on there is. It can also be a lot of fun, and you’ll be able to provide your non-pilot friends details of why the breathless news reports about drone collisions are overblown. There are also many examples now of commercial activities that can be done more easily and cheaply with a drone than with manned aircraft. In fact, there are an increasing number of examples where drones are really the only practical solution, so increasing your understanding of drones improves your ability to assess the “right tool for the job.”

Although employment prospects for manned aircraft pilots are bright and expected to continue so for decades, the FAA forecasts that over 300,000 new remote pilots may be needed in the next five years. Even for those who don’t care to make being a remote pilot their primary source of income, commercial activities associated with sUAS could represent significant potential for extra income. Also, there are many worthwhile government and nonprofit groups who hunger for the expertise present in the manned pilot community. These range from model flying groups, such as local chapters of Academy of Model Aeronautics, to local airports and airport commissions struggling to understand their obligations relating to drone flight. In these communities your experience as a manned aircraft pilot is likely to be welcomed with open arms. In my case, I began flying drones after a local conservation group requested assistance setting up a drone program to augment its monitoring projects for coastal erosion and marine mammal protection. I never expected to be flying drones, but now that I’m doing it, I’ve added a whole new dimension to my flying that’s fun and satisfying! Finally, there is already a huge group of drone pilots, and these numbers will only increase. Welcoming them into the aviation community generally can only help.

The post Drones in our Airspace appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.

from Plane & Pilot Magazine http://bit.ly/2IdI3gN

[samanthasroberts]

‘It was a nice idea, but …’ Europeans on what went wrong with the EU

On its 60th birthday, people from Sweden to Bulgaria with doubts about the EU speak their mind about whether the project is worth pursuing

A triple-A rating is more important than solidarity. Were digging our own grave

Constanze Clever. Photograph: Sddeutsche Zeitung

A few months ago, I was chatting with my husbands work colleague in a beer garden. It was about eastern Europe and the question of why those countries take so few refugees. The colleague came from Poland. He was of the view that in Europe we should first and foremost look after ourselves.

In particular, he didnt want Muslims to be allowed in. According to him, they are a threat to the Christian identity of Europe.

So of course we clashed about this Im a fan of open borders, and I find it unbelievable when people oppose open borders while personally benefiting from them. To be able to move freely is a basic right, and the essence of Europe.

In the conversation, it became clear to me: we are both Europeans, but we come from different worlds. For us in Germany, things have gone well materially in the past 10 years. In Poland, things are different. That is why it is important that we reduce the imbalance.

But were not doing that. Why must Greece pay such high interest rates on the capital market? Rich Germany pays virtually nothing. We Europeans are under the thumb of financial markets. A triple-A rating is more important than solidarity. So were digging our own grave. Unless justice quickly assumes precedence over the economy again, we wont have the EU much longer. That would be a nightmare.

Constanze Clever, 33, hairdresser, Germany

I hate the ever encroaching political union its a vanity project

Gerard Richardson. Photograph: Gerard Richardson

I dont think Europe as a group of countries has ever really been able to unite. Cultures, opinions, approaches to everything, from business to foreign relations, are so diverse.

Trade, on the other hand now thats a really good harmoniser. People can agree on that far, far more easily. So I liked the idea after the war of uniting around trade. It didnt have to be complicated, and at first it wasnt. But then we started down the road to political union.

Thats what I hate: ever encroaching political union. Europe has become a vanity exercise for politicians with too much ambition. The euro was vanity, not based on economic reality. Im not an isolationist, far from it, but I really, honestly do not believe good government can ever come from too large and diverse a group of politicians.

Look at the hopelessly divided approach to problems like Greece, or the migrant crisis. Its a disaster. The EU cant even agree on where to host its own parliament.

There are good parts: free movement, thats obviously a benefit. But its all so badly managed. And I dont believe the EU has prevented war; Nato did that. If they turned the clock back to the EEC being just a free market alone, then I would be more than happy to stay engaged. They should take the politics out of Europe. It worked as a trading bloc, but not as this.

Gerard Richardson, 55, fine wine merchant and coffee roaster, UK

It sows a mentality that theres always money but billions have disappeared

Graca Ramos. Photograph: Sddeutsche Zeitung

First of all, the EU has been a great thing for both my countries, Portugal and Spain. The other European countries brought us back to life (after decades of dictatorship). Thats why the vast majority of Spaniards and Portuguese tend to be pro-European. Europe has pumped a lot of money into our countries.

On the one hand the EU has brought positive economic developments, on the other hand there have been negative consequences. It sows a mentality that there is always money. We have lost sight of what it is to save. People havent been watching closely enough where all these billions have gone. The economies of both countries have slumped because there hasnt been effective control over the way this money has been spent.

As a Portuguese woman Im worried about a two speed Europe . Does that mean the small countries will be put aside and suspended? We feel as a small country both protected and accepted within the EU and I hope that that doesnt change. The Eurosceptic voices in other countries worry me a lot. We must all ask ourselves what we have done wrong.

Graa Ramos, 40, theatre administrator, Spain

Nations have no rights. The EU took over everything

Jozsefne Varadi. Photograph: La Stampa

The nations have no rights. The EU completely took over and everything has to happen here as they wish.

But the EU has a lot of advantages too. We entered to EU so we have to accept a lot of things, I admit, but they should give more independence to nations.

Every time the government wants to decrease utility costs or taxes, or create more workplaces to let us breathe a little bit easier, they have a problem with it. Im with the nation with all my heart. I do everything. I help campaign. Im a member of the Fidesz party since its foundation. I consider this government good and fair. Our prime minister needs a lot of bravery to stand up like this for the nation.

Did you see what happened here during the prime ministers speech? Did you see the people whistling? They think this is not a democracy, but if I had done the same when Ferenc Gyurcsany was prime minister, if I had used my whistle, they would have shot me.

Jozsefne Varadi, 87, pensioner, Hungary

Erasmus, the euro, are just sweets with a bitter aftertaste

Luca Carabetta. Photograph: Luca Carabetta/La Stampa

They draw lines on a map, take decisions from on high, and then, if they dont work, they use every economic excuse possible to justify them as necessary to maintain the unity and progress.

I am an energy engineer, a young entrepreneur from the Erasmus generation. I was born when Italy joined Schengen, in 1990, and you could leave your passport in the drawer to travel with family, or later to see friends in France, Germany, Denmark. Yet my Euroscepticism began when I was young, in my town of ButtiglieraAlta, near Turin. I saw the No-Tav movement (against high speed rail) grow in my valley, the Susa valley, I started studying and concluded that the projects tied to the European corridors were conceived in an office in Brussels, far away from local communities and their needs.

I believe Europe is an extreme concession of sovereignty, which flattens diversity and national identities built throughout history. I do not agree with the economic homogeneity that binds the EU together. Does that seem strange from a young person with foreign friends? Absolutely not. Beppe Grillos Five Star Movement has shown me a clear path for what I always thought, and thats why I vote for it.

In these years, Brussels has not been able to create a common welfare system, no citizens feel like Europe is closer, notwithstanding the sharing of pseudo-values and the currency. Erasmus, the euro, are sweets with a bitter aftertaste. Unitary economics, so far, has penalised us. Unitary politics, for me, does not represent us, the citizens.

Luca Carabetta, 27, tech CEO, Italy

Europe was a nice idea, but globalist politics and the euro have killed us

Luc Defrance. Photograph: Cyril Bitton

Im a wheat farmer from northern France. Thats to say Im one of those people said to be very rich, living off subsidies, smoking a big cigar. In reality, I started work at 16, have worked like a dog for 50 years and am now ruined. I realised we were finished so I sold my operation last June.

Europe was a nice idea, but its the globalist politics that has killed us that and the euro. In the rest of the world, other countries can devalue their currency and become competitive. With the euro, we are trapped. Marine Le Pen is right we should get out of it.

Europe is just all restrictions and rules. You have to keep records on crop treatments and be careful about employment rules. You are bothered on all fronts. And the slightest mistake could cost you 10,000 in CAP aid, and thats a catastrophe.

In any case, theyre reducing the aid. In 2010, I got 100,000 in basic grants; last year it was 52,000, and soon there wont be any more. Doing a job that depend on grants is not healthy. Europe would do better to create a safety net and fix prices rather than grants.

Luc Defrance, 66, farmer, France

Many Dutch people feel powerless and angry. It is time to rediscover our identity

Joost Niemller. Photograph: Katrien Mulder

As well as books I write a blog called De Nieuwe Realist (the new realist). Europe is a land endowed with a rich civilisation. It works because it is based on the nation states, and yet its goal is to dismantle nation states, which would signify the end of European democracy. That is why many Dutch people, possibly even a majority, would like to leave the EU.

People want to take back control and decide their own future. Mass immigration is a serious problem. Many Dutch people feel powerless and angry. It is time for the Netherlands to rediscover its identity.

Joost Niemller, 60, writer, the Netherlands

The Eurosceptics in my family are happy that Russia is stepping up strongly

Rozalina Laskova. Photograph: Zdravko Yonchev/Sddeutsche Zeitung

I cant imagine Europe without the EU and am in favour of more integration. But I sometimes forget that other Bulgarians do not think like that. I have Eurosceptics in my own family, like my mother and aunt, who are bigger supporters of Russian culture, like a lot of Bulgarians. They see and read the same Bulgarian media which speak of the supposed all-encompassing manipulation of our country by Brussels and Washington. My aunt Maria asked me mockingly whether I also get money from the Americans. They are happy that Russia is stepping up so strongly.

Rozalina Laskova, 34, cultural adviser, Bulgaria

I would like to do a Swexit just like in the UK

Andreas berg Photograph: Andreas berg

The EU started as something different. In the beginning it was a good thing, a peacekeeping operation. But it has grown into something else: a massive, undemocratic monster, lots of people doing nothing to benefit the voters in their respective countries.

It seems to me more than half of the laws in Sweden are not decided by the Swedish government but by the EU. We vote for the government but if it doesnt have the majority of the power, how can that be democratic?

We choose representatives for the EU parliament, but I dont believe thats democratic either the ones who really affect what happens are not democratically elected. I havent read all the EU laws, only some of them, and some may benefit Sweden but many dont.

I work in the construction industry and we have seen a shift towards what they have in the UK, where people from the poorer countries come to work for you, and they do it for lower wages.

The main problem with the EU is that it incorporates loads of countries, and they are so vastly different in every way: welfare, economics, everything. To correct this the EU will have to make the richer countries poorer. So I would like to do a Swexit have a referendum like in the UK, and leave.

Andreas berg, 52, construction worker, Sweden

Stories collected by the Guardians Jon Henley and David Crouch in Gothenberg, and correspondents for the Europa group of newspapers: Thomas Urban in Madrid, Sebastian Jannasch in Brussels, Christian Gschwendtner in Munich, Lucie Soullier and Jean-Pierre Stroobants

Source: http://allofbeer.com/2017/10/20/it-was-a-nice-idea-but-europeans-on-what-went-wrong-with-the-eu/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2017/10/20/it-was-a-nice-idea-but-europeans-on-what-went-wrong-with-the-eu/

[notesfromthepen]

I was five years old when I smoked my first cigarette. 

It took me and my best friend john a week of planing. Which is an eternity when your five. A few days in and we seriously considered just waiting until we were adults. But the plan was already in motion.

We lived in military housing for enlisted men with families in Fort Campbell Kentucky. Military brats. We stayed just a few houses from one another. Initially you might think that growing up on a military base would provide the much needed structure and discipline to otherwise deviant youths. You'd be wrong. In a way we were all children of single parent households. The patriarchs were gone all day, at the same time, creating a "Lord of the Flies" free-for-all for the hordes of adolescents that swarmed the base. Many firsts in my life happened on military bases. Where men are men and kids are heathens.

John and I were best friends, more like co-parented brothers actually. We spent most of our time at his house. He had all the cool shit, namely a Nintendo game system. Our households were very different. Both with macho, old school, fathers who believed a good ass whooping trumps a good talking to every time. But that's where the similarities ended.

My house was what you'd probably expect of a decorated military man and war hero. The air of a no nonsense authoritarian rule filled our dwelling and my psyche. However that was only when dad was there. Mom was the complete counter balance to dads energy. A punk rock chick that spent her teens partying with bands and madman like the Ramones, MC5, and Patti Smith. Mom has always been a free thinking, tough, rebellious, and completely loving woman. It was a completely odd paring but the balance of the two extremes worked well. 

Johns house was a completely different vibe. Where my house had two strong personalities that competed for control. Johns had one clear ruler and his agenda was decadence and fun. They had all the newest toys and implements of entertainment. Big TVs, calico vision, VCR's and...... A Nintendo Entertainment System!.. The N.E.S! For those of you who were born in to a world with preexisting gaming systems I cannot over state the mind blowing affect of the first Nintendo system.

Johns parents smoked like chimneys, drank competitively and had a knee high stack of playboys next to the toilet.. A fucking wonderland for a kid. I wasn't aware of the term "white trash" at the time and even of I was, if that's what they were, I would have thought of it as high praise. 

All the houses on the base were the same. Bare bones, two bedroom houses with a flat roofs and a wooden sheds towards the back. 

Much of the neighborhood debauchery took place in or around those sheds.

Its rare to be able to pin point exactly when and where you became a man. For me it was the first time a caught a glimpse of the inside of johns dads shed. Every inch was plastered with the centerfolds of adult magazines. Vixens with giant breasts, startling tan lines and even more startling bushes (it was the eighties). It might sound tame now, in the post internet world of porn hub but trust me when I tell you it was life changing. Im pretty sure that I sprouted a single pube right there on the spot.

Neither me or John were saints before our latest plan. We'd both sipped the last swigs in our dads beers before, took part in petty vandalism, had been into our fare share of fights, and we were now both veterans of perusing adult magazines, and so we decided the next logical step in our initiation into adulthood was to start smoking cigarettes. Again...We were five!

It wasn't a complex plan, however it was high risk. Since we were practically men now a lil risk was nothing to be afraid of. 

We made a list of the implements necessary to accomplish our goals. It was a short list: A lighter, two cigarettes, and that's pretty much it. We would get the supplies in stages. We decided to get the cigarettes first. They would be the least likely to be missed. If we made it through phase one unnoticed and unscathed then we would proceed to phase two operation "fire grab". Which was just the stealing of a lighter.

The heist would take place at johns house because, well, my parents didn't smoke. We staked out the area, the players, and the goods for a full day. Johns dad was a "no-go" for several reasons. one: he wasn't there during the day. Two (and far more importantly): was the real threat of physical violence. Johns mom, on the other hand, was there all day, left her cigarettes in the kitchen, and we were confident that we could out run her if shit went sideways. She would be the mark. 

The next day we would snag one cigarette from her pack, stash it,.and repeat the process the following day, as to not arouse the suspicion that two missing cigarettes might cause.

John showed up at my house right after breakfast. We walked to his place and formulated our plan of action. Since his mom was never stationary for too long we'd need a distraction. That would be johns job. Leaving the thievery to yours truly.

We approached his front door. My heart rate began to increase as we closed in on the threshold to the little square house. Upon entering, the kitchen was immediately on the left. John pointed a the table at the far end of the kitchen. He mouthed the words "right there". A soft pack of cigarettes sat under a red lighter perched atop the table. I tip toed into the kitchen as he went to run interference on our unsuspecting mark. His mom sat on the couch in the living room folding laundry in front of the TV. Between the laundry and the soap opera drama she was completely enthralled. In hind sight our "distraction" was not only completely unnecessary but it almost did us in. As I approached the table and silently lifted the lighter off the the pack of smokes, John said "hey mom whatcha doing?" 

There were two doors leading into the kitchen. One in the entryway of the house and the other, at the other opened into the living room, where johns mom sat with her back to me and the table. If she turned around she would have immediately saw me handling her pack of cigs.

Johns question startled her out of her soap induced trance. She briefly looked around. I froze with lighter in one hand a her pack of smokes in the other. My heart had never beat so fast. Just before her head swung around far enough to witness the crime in progress John picked up the remote and changed the channel. "Can we watch Space Balls?" asked my codefendant. She stopped dead in her tracks “Goddamn it John!! Go out side and play!" To this day I've yet to meet more than a handful of people more capable than a five year old John in that moment.

As quick as a magician I pulled a single cigarette from the pack, placed it back on the table and positioned the red lighter on top, exactly as I found them. 

With the contraband secured we shot out of the house like two bottle rockets. The screen door slammed behind us partially trapping the string of obscenities that followed.

Once far enough away we slowed to a walk. My heart still pounding but in a different way. 

So began my true addiction. An addiction to that special mix of adrenaline and chaos brought on by the subverting of rules. An addiction that has followed me like a shadow for my entire life.

It wasn't the first cigarette that I'd ever seen but it felt like it.I rolled it between my fingers examining its details. I looked the little brown filter with the tiny imperfections in the coloring. I noticed the horizontal lines, so thin that they were almost invisible, on the white paper of the cigarette. I stuck it under my nose like a fake mustache and inhaled the aroma. it smelled so much nicer that the ones in he ashtrays at johns house. I looked around before letting it hang from between my lips like I'd seen the neighborhood teens do at the park. John was less enamored by the spoils of our heist. He'd probably already done this foreplay to smoking a few times.

We made it to the shed of a uninhabited house on my street. I went in and stashed the cigarette on one of the two by fours in the dark wooden box. Step one was now complete.

The plan was to let another day pass before going back to snag the remaining implements of our delinquency.

The next day, our day of inaction, crept by at a snails pace. We bull shitted around trying to distract ourselves from the single cigarette waiting to be smoked in the empty shed. 

There were two parks on the base: Sunny park and Shady park. At that age things are clearly defined, either black or white. There aren't many grey areas when your five. The two parks on the base were perfect representations of this hard line. The parks gained their nicknames obviously enough; one was sunny and the other shady. But the meanings ran deeper and its taken years of perspective to fully appreciate the depth and meaning of the two parks.

Sunny park was designed by convince. The block of houses in the center of the neighborhood created a huge field in their collective backyards. In the center of this sea of green sat the makings of a playground: swing sets, monkey bars, a slide, a merry-go-round and a big dome of interconnecting metal bars that created a geometric contraption to play on or bash your shins against. Not a single tree or bush grew in the field. Every inch was bathed in unobstructed sunlight and every action visible from the rear windows of the surrounding houses. Windows constantly manned by the bored and nosey housewives of the enlisted men. 

No one under the age of twelve used Sunny park for anything other than a short cut to the other park.

Shady park, on the other hand, was designed by no one.

Shady park was tucked away in a wooded area, on the outskirts of the neighborhood, hence the name. Dirt paths leading in and out of the park cut between the towering trees. The occasional few rays of sunlight that made it through the foliage created islands of light on the park floor.

I'd walked past Shady park everyday on my way to school. From the side walk you could hear the older kids in the park skipping school. The crash of breaking bottles, foul language, and general teenage revelry was the soundtrack to my walk. Every few steps I'd catch a glimpse of the forbidden playground and its inhabitants. A mixture of fear and excitement gave goosebumps to my skin.

So in an attempt to burn through the rest of our day, while we waited for tomorrow to bring us phase two of our heist, we decided that we were ready for a romp through the darker of the two parks. After all, we were just a few days and a couple of puffs on a cigarette away from becoming men.

I remind you that this was the eighties. A decade where the, now cliche, douchebag bullies from eighties movies really existed. 

Around the same time one of my cousin Judy's "friends", complete with long ratty hair, fingerless gloves, and a single dangly cross earring, flinched at me like he was gonna punch me in the face and said "Fuck you pussy!" Again, I was five! He must have been seventeen going on forty. I was so young, small, and Asian that he had to flinch down at me.. This goon was completely serious too. A hundred percent unaware. It was so par for the course at the time that only after entering adulthood did I realize how ridiculous it was. 

Man I miss those days and that specific brand of asshole. And I only mention this to give reason for our trepidation of Shady park and the characters we were likely to meet up with.

John came over and we walked towards the park. We approached the foot path that lead into the park. A path that I'd walked past a thousand times, always knowing, in the back of my mind, that the time would come when I was meant to follow it. Today was that day. Ten steps in and we were in a different world. It was oddly quiet and noticeably darker. The thought that we'd interrupt a group truant teens knee deep in some sort of unholy communion made me queazy. John was the silent type but I knew he felt the same. 

About ten yards in, the narrow dirt path split in two, then three, then four paths, before opening up to the Shadiest of parks.

Huge sections of concrete tubes, big enough for us to walk through, littered the park at random intervals and angles. The left over artifacts of some unfinished drainage project. Each cylinder with its own custom smattering of spray painted obscenities and vulgar pictograms. Some familiar others confusing. On one tube, a giant red dick seemed to be assaulting some sort of hairy clam standing on end.

The park felt and sounded empty. 

We huddled in the first tube that we came to, the one with the clam, to get our bearings. The bottom of the tube glittered with jewels. Diamonds, emeralds, and gems of every color crunched under our feet. At the opening of the other end of the tube sat the biggest gem id ever seen. An emerald with part of a 7up logo on it. Some of the smaller shards had been there so long that their edges were dull and rounded. We picked the best ones and put them in our pockets, to build our fortunes with later.

We exited the concrete tunnel and made our way into the heart of the park. An old swing set was the center piece. Large chunks of green paint had been chipped away exposing rusted metal. The stillness and the silence made for an eerie setting. John kicked one of the swings. The chains creaked and rattled forever. It was like time stopped. Like we were un-welcomed visitors. We were technically [in] the park but something was off. We were tourists. Sightseers... Trespassers. 

We walked to the decrepit merry-go-round and sat down. It groaned under our insignificant weight. I don't remember what we said. Probably nothing. John kicked at some pebbles. The chains of the swing set eventually went silent. 

Finally, I said "let's get outta here." 

We walked home in relative silence. I knew that things would be different once we smoked those cigarettes. The forbidden part of the world would finally open up to us. We'd be adults. We'd be enlightened.

I could hardly sleep the night before the next phase of the heist. It was like Christmas morning. I woke early, poured a bowl of cereal, and sat down in front of the TV. Before I could drink the pink tinted milk from the bowl John was at the door.

"Bobby, John's here." I jumped up, tossed the bowl into the sink, and ran outside.

When I saw john he was already smiling. "You ready?" he asked. 

Now, the plan was to grab the last cigarette today and the lighter tomorrow. So I assumed he meant "was I ready for phase two?" When in fact he meant "Are you ready to do this?" 

He looked around before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a a single cigarette and a red lighter! What i did to deserve such a sneaky, conniving, grab the bull by the horns, type of best friend like John I'll never know, but I was grateful.

My palms started to sweat. Hesitation and fear fought for control. Reasons to abandon our plan suddenly flooded my mind. However it didn't take long for another kind of fear, the fear of looking like a pussy, to override my better judgement. Such is life. 

With chests out, strutting like roosters we walked to our shed of inequities. Some of the neighborhood kids were gathered in a driveway. They couldn't help but notice the confidence. Or maybe it was the cigarette that dangled from my lips. I pretended not to notice them as we neared, feigning a conversation with John. 

One of the kids, I can't remember his name, ran up and asked "John, what you guys doing? That ain't a real cigarette is it?" 

To which I smirked at him. 

"Nothing" said John and we kept walking. John flicked the lighter as we made our way down the street.

We made it the house, up the side and to the shed out back. John struggled to open the door. He had to lean with all his weight to force it open. 

I followed him into the dark and musty wooden box. I grabbed the cigarette that we'd stashed away and tried to hand it to John. His back was to me as he leaned his head out the door.

"Get outta here, we're busy!" 

"Here" I said and handed him the cigarette. As he took it I glanced out the door. The two boys we walked past were coming up the side yard. I pretended to be pissed but was secretly glad to have an audience. I mean what was the point of being an outlaw if no one was there to witness it? 

At this point the cigarettes were merely symbolic. 

"Forget them" I said.."Gimme the lighter." 

I grabbed the lighter and flicked it several times before it sprung a flame.

This was years before burn stop cigarettes and child-proof lighters that infuriate the drunk and elderly smokers of today. 

I held the lighter out and lit johns cigarette before lighting mine. 

I need to make this perfectly clear. At the time I had absolutely no idea how to inhale. The idea alone would have confused me. As far as I was concerned you just puffed on the cigarette by pulling air into your mouth. But none of it really mattered. This wasn't about smoking anymore. It was about rebellion.

We both stood there puffing away, filling the small shed with smoke almost immediately. I did my best impression of an outlaw who had done this a thousand times. But the fact that my eyes were starting to water from the smoke almost gave me away for the rookie I was. 

As I fought back the tears two more nosey kids made their way up to the shed. It was the two black girls that lived next door to me. They were sisters (I mean that in their relation not color, though I guess both could apply). I don't remember their names and any attempt to guess would probably just come off as a tad "stereotype". 

I do remember that, of the two, I liked the younger one. She was sweet and funny. Her older sister was an asshole, already jaded by the ripe old age of seven. She was mean and spiteful. I was actually glad that she was there to witness my bad-assery, maybe now she would give me the respect that I deserved. 

The entire time the onlookers said nothing. They just stood witness, looking dumbfounded. 

We finished our cigarettes, left the shed, and walked through the kids gathered around the shed. The older of my neighbors, the jaded seven yr old, said "ewwwwww" in a admonishing tone as we walked by.

John and I walked home together. The only words spoken were his":I gotta get this lighter back." I nodded and we parted ways. 

I got home and went straight to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I went to my room and sat on my bed. I sat there staring at my Hulk Hogan poster and realized that I didn't feel any different. I wasn't more mature. I wasn't more bad-ass. I wasn't an Outlaw..

Some time passed, it felt like hours but I can't be sure, when my mom opened my door a crack and said "don't go anywhere your dad wants to talk to you when he gets home." My heart sank. I knew it was a wrap. Right then and there I knew it was over. A mixture of panic, embarrassment, and fear set in.

I wasn't a tough guy. I was a scared kid afraid of an ass whipping.

It turns out that as soon as we left the shed the neighbor girl ratted me out. My dad came home, promptly threatened to hand me a sore ass, reminded me that I was anything but a tough guy compared to him, and grounded me for a month.

So there it was: my life as an outlaw had started and ended in a single afternoon.

Life has a strange way of giving you, not what you want, but only what you're ready for in that exact moment. And there's no way of cheating life. No way of speeding up the process.

And so for the time being, Shady park and my life as an outlaw would have to wait...

[notesfromthepen]

The Making Of An Outlaw

I was five years old when I smoked my first cigarette. 

It took me and my best friend john a week of planing. Which is an eternity when your five. A few days in and we seriously considered just waiting until we were adults. But the plan was already in motion.

We lived in military housing for enlisted men with families in Fort Campbell Kentucky. Military brats. We stayed just a few houses from one another. Initially you might think that growing up on a military base would provide the much needed structure and discipline to otherwise deviant youths. You'd be wrong. In a way we were all children of single parent households. The patriarchs were gone all day, at the same time, creating a "Lord of the Flies" free for all for the horde of adolescents that swarmed the base. Many firsts in my life happened on military bases. Where men are men and kids are heathens.

John and I were best friends, more like co-parented brothers actually. We spent most of our time at his house. He had all the cool shit, namely a Nintendo game system. Our households were very different. Both with macho, old school, fathers who believed a good ass whooping trumps a good talking to every time. But that's where the similarities ended.

My house was what you'd probably expect of a decorated military man and war hero. The air of a no nonsense authoritarian rule filled our dwelling and my psyche. However that was only when dad was there. Mom was the complete counter balance to dads energy. A punk rock chick that spent her teens partying with bands and madman like the Ramones, MC5, and Patti Smith. Mom has always been a free thinking, tough, rebellious, and completely loving woman. It was a completely odd paring but the balance of the two extremes worked well. 

Johns house was a completely different vibe. Where my house had two strong personalities that competed for control. Johns had one clear ruler and his agenda was decadence and fun. They had all the newest toys and implements of entertainment. Big TVs, calico vision, VCR's and...... A Nintendo Entertainment System!.. The N.E.S! For those of you who were born in to a world with preexisting gaming systems I cannot over state the mind blowing affect of the first Nintendo system.

Johns parents smoked like chimneys, drank competitively and had a knee high stack of playboys next to the toilet.. A fucking wonderland for a kid. I wasn't aware of the term "white trash" at the time and even of I was, if that's what they were, I would have thought of it as high praise. 

All the houses on the base were the same. Bare bones, two bedroom houses with a flat roofs and a wooden sheds towards the back. 

Much of the neighborhood debauchery took place in or around those sheds.

Its rare to be able to pin point exactly when and where you became a man. For me it was the first time a caught a glimpse of the inside of johns dads shed. Every inch was plastered with the centerfolds of adult magazines. Vixens with giant breasts, startling tan lines and even more startling bushes (it was the eighties). It might sound tame now, in the post internet world of porn hub but trust me when I tell you it was life changing. Im pretty sure that I sprouted a single pube right there on the spot.

Neither me or John were saints before our latest plan. We'd both sipped the last swigs in our dads beers before, took part in petty vandalism, had been into our fare share of fights, and we were now both veterans of perusing adult magazines, and so we decided the next logical step in our initiation into adulthood was to start smoking cigarettes. Again...We were five!

It wasn't a complex plan, however it was high risk. Since we were practically men now a lil risk was nothing to be afraid of. 

We made a list of the implements necessary to accomplish our goals. It was a short list: A lighter, two cigarettes, and that's pretty much it. We would get the supplies in stages. We decided to get the cigarettes first. They would be the least likely to be missed. If we made it through phase one unnoticed and unscathed then we would proceed to phase two operation "fire grab". Which was just the stealing of a lighter.

The heist would take place at johns house because, well, my parents didn't smoke. We staked out the area, the players, and the goods for a full day. Johns dad was a "no-go" for several reasons. one: he wasn't there during the day. Two (and far more importantly): was the real threat of physical violence. Johns mom, on the other hand, was there all day, left her cigarettes in the kitchen, and we were confident that we could out run her if shit went sideways. She would be the mark. 

The next day we would snag one cigarette from her pack, stash it,.and repeat the process the following day, as to not arouse the suspicion that two missing cigarettes might cause.

John showed up at my house right after breakfast. We walked to his place and formulated our plan of action. Since his mom was never stationary for too long we'd need a distraction. That would be johns job. Leaving the thievery to yours truly.

We approached his front door. My heart rate began to increase as we closed in on the threshold to the little square house. Upon entering, the kitchen was immediately on the left. John pointed a the table at the far end of the kitchen. He mouthed the words "right there". A soft pack of cigarettes sat under a red lighter perched atop the table. I tip toed into the kitchen as he went to run interference on our unsuspecting mark. His mom sat on the couch in the living room folding laundry in front of the TV. Between the laundry and the soap opera drama she was completely enthralled. In hind sight our "distraction" was not only completely unnecessary but it almost did us in. As I approached the table and silently lifted the lighter off the the pack of smokes, John said "hey mom whatcha doing?" 

There were two doors leading into the kitchen. One in the entryway of the house and the other, at the other opened into the living room, where johns mom sat with her back to me and the table. If she turned around she would have immediately saw me handling her pack of cigs.

Johns question startled her out of her soap induced trance. She briefly looked around. I froze with lighter in one hand a her pack of smokes in the other. My heart had never beat so fast. Just before her head swung around far enough to witness the crime in progress John picked up the remote and changed the channel. "Can we watch Space Balls?" asked my codefendant. She stopped dead in her tracks “Goddamn it John!! Go out side and play!" To this day I've yet to meet more than a handful of people more capable than a five year old John in that moment.

As quick as a magician I pulled a single cigarette from the pack, placed it back on the table and positioned the red lighter on top, exactly as I found them. 

With the contraband secured we shot out of the house like two bottle rockets. The screen door slammed behind us partially trapping the string of obscenities that followed.

Once far enough away we slowed to a walk. My heart still pounding but in a different way. 

So began my true addiction. An addiction to that special mix of adrenaline and chaos brought on by the subverting of rules. An addiction that has followed me like a shadow for my entire life.

It wasn't the first cigarette that I'd ever seen but it felt like it.I rolled it between my fingers examining its details. I looked the little brown filter with the tiny imperfections in the coloring. I noticed the horizontal lines, so thin that they were almost invisible, on the white paper of the cigarette. I stuck it under my nose like a fake mustache and inhaled the aroma. it smelled so much nicer that the ones in he ashtrays at johns house. I looked around before letting it hang from between my lips like I'd seen the neighborhood teens do at the park. John was less enamored by the spoils of our heist. He'd probably already done this foreplay to smoking a few times.

We made it to the shed of a uninhabited house on my street. I went in and stashed the cigarette on one of the two by fours in the dark wooden box. Step one was now complete.

The plan was to let another day pass before going back to snag the remaining implements of our delinquency.

The next day, our day of inaction, crept by at a snails pace. We bull shitted around trying to distract ourselves from the single cigarette waiting to be smoked in the empty shed. 

There were two parks on the base: Sunny park and Shady park. At that age things are clearly defined, either black or white. There aren't many grey areas when your five. The two parks on the base were perfect representations of this hard line. The parks gained their nicknames obviously enough; one was sunny and the other shady. But the meanings ran deeper and its taken years of perspective to fully appreciate the depth and meaning of the two parks.

Sunny park was designed by convince. The block of houses in the center of the neighborhood created a huge field in their collective backyards. In the center of this sea of green sat the makings of a playground: swing sets, monkey bars, a slide, a merry-go-round and a big dome of interconnecting metal bars that created a geometric contraption to play on or bash your shins against. Not a single tree or bush grew in the field. Every inch was bathed in unobstructed sunlight and every action visible from the rear windows of the surrounding houses. Windows constantly manned by the bored and nosey housewives of the enlisted men. 

No one under the age of twelve used Sunny park for anything other than a short cut to the other park.

Shady park, on the other hand, was designed by no one.

Shady park was tucked away in a wooded area, on the outskirts of the neighborhood, hence the name. Dirt paths leading in and out of the park cut between the towering trees. The occasional few rays of sunlight that made it through the foliage created islands of light on the park floor.

I'd walked past Shady park everyday on my way to school. From the side walk you could hear the older kids in the park skipping school. The crash of breaking bottles, foul language, and general teenage revelry was the soundtrack to my walk. Every few steps I'd catch a glimpse of the forbidden playground and its inhabitants. A mixture of fear and excitement gave goosebumps to my skin.

So in an attempt to burn through the rest of our day, while we waited for tomorrow to bring us phase two of our heist, we decided that we were ready for a romp through the darker of the two parks. After all, we were just a few days and a couple of puffs on a cigarette away from becoming men.

I remind you that this was the eighties. A decade where the, now cliche, douchebag bullies from eighties movies really existed. 

Around the same time one of my cousin Judy's "friends", complete with long ratty hair, fingerless gloves, and a single dangly cross earring, flinched at me like he was gonna punch me in the face and said "Fuck you pussy!" Again, I was five! He must have been seventeen going on forty. I was so young, small, and Asian that he had to flinch down at me.. This goon was completely serious too. A hundred percent unaware. It was so par for the course at the time that only after entering adulthood did I realize how ridiculous it was. 

Man I miss those days and that specific brand of asshole. And I only mention this to give reason for our trepidation of Shady park and the characters we were likely to meet up with.

John came over and we walked towards the park. We approached the foot path that lead into the park. A path that I'd walked past a thousand times, always knowing, in the back of my mind, that the time would come when I was meant to follow it. Today was that day. Ten steps in and we were in a different world. It was oddly quiet and noticeably darker. The thought that we'd interrupt a group truant teens knee deep in some sort of unholy communion made me queazy. John was the silent type but I knew he felt the same. 

About ten yards in, the narrow dirt path split in two, then three, then four paths, before opening up to the Shadiest of parks.

Huge sections of concrete tubes, big enough for us to walk through, littered the park at random intervals and angles. The left over artifacts of some unfinished drainage project. Each cylinder with its own custom smattering of spray painted obscenities and vulgar pictograms. Some familiar others confusing. On one tube, a giant red dick seemed to be assaulting some sort of hairy clam standing on end.

The park felt and sounded empty. 

We huddled in the first tube that we came to, the one with the clam, to get our bearings. The bottom of the tube glittered with jewels. Diamonds, emeralds, and gems of every color crunched under our feet. At the opening of the other end of the tube sat the biggest gem id ever seen. An emerald with part of a 7up logo on it. Some of the smaller shards had been there so long that their edges were dull and rounded. We picked the best ones and put them in our pockets, to build our fortunes with later.

We exited the concrete tunnel and made our way into the heart of the park. An old swing set was the center piece. Large chunks of green paint had been chipped away exposing rusted metal. The stillness and the silence made for an eerie setting. John kicked one of the swings. The chains creaked and rattled forever. It was like time stopped. Like we were un-welcomed visitors. We were technically [in] the park but something was off. We were tourists. Sightseers... Trespassers. 

We walked to the decrepit merry-go-round and sat down. It groaned under our insignificant weight. I don't remember what we said. Probably nothing. John kicked at some pebbles. The chains of the swing set eventually went silent. 

Finally, I said "let's get outta here." 

We walked home in relative silence. I knew that things would be different once we smoked those cigarettes. The forbidden part of the world would finally open up to us. We'd be adults. We'd be enlightened.

I could hardly sleep the night before the next phase of the heist. It was like Christmas morning. I woke early, poured a bowl of cereal, and sat down in front of the TV. Before I could drink the pink tinted milk from the bowl John was at the door.

"Bobby, John's here." I jumped up, tossed the bowl into the sink, and ran outside.

When I saw john he was already smiling. "You ready?" he asked. 

Now, the plan was to grab the last cigarette today and the lighter tomorrow. So I assumed he meant "was I ready for phase two?" When in fact he meant "Are you ready to do this?" 

He looked around before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a a single cigarette and a red lighter! What i did to deserve such a sneaky, conniving, grab the bull by the horns, type of best friend like John I'll never know, but I was grateful.

My palms started to sweat. Hesitation and fear fought for control. Reasons to abandon our plan suddenly flooded my mind. However it didn't take long for another kind of fear, the fear of looking like a pussy, to override my better judgement. Such is life. 

With chests out, strutting like roosters we walked to our shed of inequities. Some of the neighborhood kids were gathered in a driveway. They couldn't help but notice the confidence. Or maybe it was the cigarette that dangled from my lips. I pretended not to notice them as we neared, feigning a conversation with John. 

One of the kids, I can't remember his name, ran up and asked "John, what you guys doing? That ain't a real cigarette is it?" 

To which I smirked at him. 

"Nothing" said John and we kept walking. John flicked the lighter as we made our way down the street.

We made it the house, up the side and to the shed out back. John struggled to open the door. He had to lean with all his weight to force it open. 

I followed him into the dark and musty wooden box. I grabbed the cigarette that we'd stashed away and tried to hand it to John. His back was to me as he leaned his head out the door.

"Get outta here, we're busy!" 

"Here" I said and handed him the cigarette. As he took it I glanced out the door. The two boys we walked past were coming up the side yard. I pretended to be pissed but was secretly glad to have an audience. I mean what was the point of being an outlaw if no one was there to witness it? 

At this point the cigarettes were merely symbolic. 

"Forget them" I said.."Gimme the lighter." 

I grabbed the lighter and flicked it several times before it sprung a flame.

This was years before burn stop cigarettes and child-proof lighters that infuriate the drunk and elderly smokers of today. 

I held the lighter out and lit johns cigarette before lighting mine. 

I need to make this perfectly clear. At the time I had absolutely no idea how to inhale. The idea alone would have confused me. As far as I was concerned you just puffed on the cigarette by pulling air into your mouth. But none of it really mattered. This wasn't about smoking anymore. It was about rebellion.

We both stood there puffing away, filling the small shed with smoke almost immediately. I did my best impression of an outlaw who had done this a thousand times. But the fact that my eyes were starting to water from the smoke almost gave me away for the rookie I was. 

As I fought back the tears two more nosey kids made their way up to the shed. It was the two black girls that lived next door to me. They were sisters (I mean that in their relation not color, though I guess both could apply). I don't remember their names and any attempt to guess would probably just come off as a tad "stereotype". 

I do remember that, of the two, I liked the younger one. She was sweet and funny. Her older sister was an asshole, already jaded by the ripe old age of seven. She was mean and spiteful. I was actually glad that she was there to witness my bad-assery, maybe now she would give me the respect that I deserved. 

The entire time the onlookers said nothing. They just stood witness, looking dumbfounded. 

We finished our cigarettes, left the shed, and walked through the kids gathered around the shed. The older of my neighbors, the jaded seven yr old, said "ewwwwww" in a admonishing tone as we walked by.

John and I walked home together. The only words spoken were his":I gotta get this lighter back." I nodded and we parted ways. 

I got home and went straight to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I went to my room and sat on my bed. I sat there staring at my Hulk Hogan poster and realized that I didn't feel any different. I wasn't more mature. I wasn't more bad-ass. I wasn't an Outlaw..

Some time passed, it felt like hours but I can't be sure, when my mom opened my door a crack and said "don't go anywhere your dad wants to talk to you when he gets home." My heart sank. I knew it was a wrap. Right then and there I knew it was over. A mixture of panic, embarrassment, and fear set in.

I wasn't a tough guy. I was a scared kid afraid of an ass whipping.

It turns out that as soon as we left the shed the neighbor girl ratted me out. My dad came home, promptly threatened to hand me a sore ass, reminded me that I was anything but a tough guy compared to him, and grounded me for a month.

So there it was: my life as an outlaw had started and ended in a single afternoon.

Life has a strange way of giving you, not what you want, but only what you're ready for in that exact moment. And there's no way of cheating life. No way of speeding up the process.

And so for the time being, Shady park and my life as an outlaw would have to wait...