#there would be no better proof that we live in clown universe if this did happen but man i will fucking laugh if the starfield romances

[ayrennaranaaldmeri]

lol now that i went back and redid the whole thing, the final conversation with shadowheart is actually that fucking bad in general.

(for the good(TM) ending i.e no shar) she has one of the most emotion driven slowburn romances in the game if you do it correctly that is purely committed to each other shit, she literally tells the pc she wants a life WITH THEM WHICH THEY CAN SAY THEY WANT TOO, if her dad is there he tells the pc he hopes shadowheart will want to live near his wife and him, with her paramour, and then larian proceeds to treat relationship is treated like you had a fling and you never discussed your future together, lmao 'you and i had a connection' 'oh i had hoped for more bc our time has been so precious to me' 'come find me when you're free it's not like i just asked you to build a life with me recently' just remove all of the player's autonomy here too, what a fucking joke.

[twistedtummies2]

Gathering of the Greatest Gumshoes - Number 12

Welcome to A Gathering of the Greatest Gumshoes! During this month-long event, I’ll be counting my Top 31 Favorite Fictional Detectives, from movies, television, literature, video games, and more!

SLEUTH-OF-THE-DAY’S QUOTE: “There’s an old saying: ‘Don’t change anything. Ever.’”

Number 12 is…Adrian Monk, from Monk.

“Monk” premiered in 2002, at a time when I often feel good old-fashioned detective shows were on their way out, at least in the United States. Classic series like “Murder, She Wrote” and “Columbo” were nearing the end of their respective runs, and more and more people were gravitating towards what might be termed crime drama rather than Whodunnit storylines and Sherlock-Holmes-esque antics. With that said, it’s remarkable that Monk lasted as long as it did. The show ran for seven full years of straight television airtime, and was even briefly revitalized for a TV movie spin-off just last year: proof that the show’s legacy has not faded away, even after it ended nearly 15 years prior. Considering the final episode of the series broke the world record for the most viewings in cable television history at the time (a record which has, I should clarify, since been surpassed), it’s clear the series struck a chord with audiences.

I think a big part of the reason why comes from the title character: Adrian Monk himself. Monk is one of the funniest and most interesting detective characters in television history, in my opinion. He was a very different kind of sleuth, some would argue, compared to many popular detectives of the past. The humor of Monk, you see, is different from that of characters like the aforementioned Columbo or Sherlock Holmes. In those cases, these were characters who, for better or worse, everyone knew could get the job done. If they did have a silly side, it was usually either a façade to hide their inner steel, or it came from their own passions creating chaos for those around them. Monk is slightly in the latter category, but in a different way. Monk, you see…is a man who lives in fear of his own shadow. And I don’t think I mean that entirely figuratively. Sometime before the start of the series, you see, he lost his wife in a mysterious car bombing incident. The event caused an already mentally fragile Adrian to have a complete nervous breakdown, and he still hasn’t quite come out of it. As a result, Adrian Monk has become a man who is paranoid about just about everything around him. He’s a hypochondriac, has severe OCD, and his mind contains more phobias than you can really list in any concise way. Some are rational, but many are completely unfounded. He’s scared of snakes, needles, heights, enclosed spaces…even MILK he looks at with a sense of dread. Milk, I say! And that’s just to name a few!

The humor of Monk, as a result, comes from watching this man battle his own constant fear of the UNIVERSE, as he panics his way through every situation, fretting and fussing and cowering even as he scopes out scenes and picks out clues. It’s not surprising that his enemies underestimate him or that others around him get annoyed, because he’s not just pretending to be a buffoon: he’s legitimately just a constant wreck! However, through all the goofiness this setup presents – and there is a LOT of goofiness to be found – Monk is NOT an idiot. All of his overwhelming fears and nervous habits come from a very sad and fundamentally broken place, and there are times, throughout the series, where Monk shows not only a tragic vulnerability, but also a sort of inner fire and strength. When the situation calls for it, Adrian can be brought out of his shell, and shows there’s a lot more to him than just a whimpering clown. I think this is the crux of what makes the character so much fun to watch: we know he isn’t faking all this lunacy, but we also know that, at the end of the day, Monk will make the right choice, and will find some way of bringing the criminals involved in any case to justice. Many actors were considered for the role of Monk, a lot of them really big names. Some include Alfred Molina, Stanley Tucci, and the late John Ritter. In the end, the role went to Tony Shalhoub, who was sort of an actor-on-the-rise at the time. It was Monk that made Shalhoub recognized nationwide, however, and is the role he is likely best known for to this day. It’s not hard to see way: Shalhoub handles every scene absolutely perfectly, making Adrian just as sympathetic and heroic as he is absolutely ridiculous. The result is one of the most wonderfully comedic, but still competent and fascinating, characters in detective fiction, in my opinion. From battles with Tim Curry to solving the case of his late wife’s murder to trying to figure out if he’s scared of blankets or not (yes, really), Adrian Monk may not be the bravest of super sleuths…but he's certainly one of the greatest.

Tomorrow, the countdown continues with Number 11!

CLUE: “It really is very dangerous to believe people. I never have for years.”

[to-read-or-not-to-read3088]

70+ disabled, neurodiverse and chronically ill authors COLLAB

This post is in collaboration with several other bloggers whose links are included here:

Artie Carden

Anniek

Hi! It’s been a while since I posted anything, but this post has been a month in the making. I have twenty books by twenty authors for my part in this collaboration, and you can check out the other parts of the collab with the links at the top of the post.

I haven’t read some of these books but almost all of them are on my to be read pile, and I did extensive research to make sure I got this right, but please let me know if there are any mistakes or if anything needs to be corrected.

1. Meet Cute Diary by Emery Lee

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Meet Cute Diary follows Noah Ramirez who thinks he’s an expert on romance. He must be for his blog, the Meet Cute Diary, a collection of trans happily ever afters. There’s just one problem. All the stories are fake. What started off as the fantasies of a trans boy who was afraid to step out of the closet has grown into a beacon of hope for trans readers across the globe. Noah’s world unravels when a troll exposes the blog as fiction, and the only way to save the Diary is to convince everyone that the stories are true, but he doesn’t have any proof. That’s when Drew walks into Noah’s life, and the pieces fall into place. Drew is willing to fake date Noah to save the Diary. But when Noah’s feelings grow beyond their staged romance, he realises that dating in real life isn’t the same as finding love on the page.

The author, Emery Lee, is a kid lit author, artist and YouTuber hailing from a mixed racial background. After graduating with a degree in creative writing, e’s gone on to author novels, short stories and webcomics. When away from reading and writing, you’ll likely find em engaged in art or snuggling with cute dogs.

Emery Lee is nonbinary, and uses e/em pronouns, and e’s debut book, Meet Cute Diary, features a side character who is also nonbinary (and asexual!). Emery is also neurodivergent, and frequently speaks about what its like being a writer with adhd on twitter.

Meet Cute Diary is a book I only discovered last month, when it was published, but I’m excited to read it. It has representation of all kinds, and I love any book that has even a little mention of an asexual character because its so rare to see.

2. Ace of Spades by Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé

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At Niveus Private Academy money paves the hallways, and the students are never less than perfect. Until now. Because an anonymous texter calling themselves Aces, is bringing two students’ dark secrets to light. Devon, a talented musician, buries himself in rehearsals, but he can’t escape the spotlight when his private photos go public. Chiamaka, head girl, isn’t afraid to get what she wants, but soon everyone will know the price she has paid for power. Someone is out to get them both. Someone who holds all the aces. And they’re planning much more than a high school game.

Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé, is the author of the instant New York Times and IndieBound bestseller, Ace of Spades, billed as ‘Get out meets Gossip Girl’. Entertainment Weekly has called it “this summer’s hottest YA debut”. She was born and raised in Croydon, South London, and Faridah moved to the Scottish Highlands for her undergraduate degree where she completed a BA in English Literature. She has established and runs and mentorship scheme for unagented writers of colour, helping them on their journey to get published. Faridah has also written for NME, The Bookseller, Readers Digest and gal-dem.

Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé’s book is one that I pre-ordered months in advance, after discovering that I actually really liked this sub-genre of YA, and although I still haven’t read it yet (sorry!), I’m still super excited to dive into it. From what I hear, it has some gay rep, which we all know by now is something I seek out in my books.

3. Lycanthropy and Other Chronic Illnesses by Kristen O’Neal

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Priya has worked hard to pursue her pre med dreams at Stanford, but a diagnosis of chronic Lyme disease during her sophomore year sends her straight back to her loving but overbearing family in New Jersey and leaves her wondering if she’ll ever be able to return to the way things were. Thankfully she has her online pen pal, Brigid, and the rest of the members of “oof ouch my bones,” a virtual support group that meets on Discord to crack jokes and vent about their own chronic illnesses. When Brigid suddenly goes offline, Priya does something very out of character; she steals the family car and drives to Pennsylvania to check on Brigid. Priya isn’t sure what to expect, but it isn’t the creature that’s shut in the basement. With Brigid nowhere in sight, Priya begins to puzzle together an impossible but obvious truth: the creature might be werewolf – and the werewolf might be Brigid. As Brigid’s unique condition worsens, their friendship will be deepened and challenged in unexpected ways, forcing them to reckon with their own ideas of what it means to be normal.

Kristen O’Neal is a freelance writer who’s written for sites like Buzzfeed Reader, Christianity Today, Birth.Movies.Death, LitHub and Electric Literature. She writes about faith, culture, and unexplained phenomena. Her debut novel, Lycanthropy and Other Chronic Illnesses is based on her own experiences with being chronically ill. Kristen has two autoimmune disorders and “a number of other problems and issues” with her body. According to her website, she is doing much better than she used to, but still has flares somewhat regularly.

I cannot describe the feeling of seeing a published book with the best group chat name I have ever seen. Oof ouch my bones is absolutely something that I would be part of if it really existed, because its just such a mood, and funny at the same time. I pre ordered this book too, but like all the others, I still haven’t gotten around to reading it. I’m super excited about it though and cannot recommend it enough.

4. Only Mostly Devastated by Sophie Gonzales

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Will Tavares is the dream summer fling – he’s fun, affectionate, kind – but just when Ollie thinks he’s found his Happily Ever After, summer vacation ends, and Will stops texting Ollie back. Now Ollie is one prince short of his fairy tale ending, and to complicate the fairy tale further, a family emergency sees Ollie uprooted and enrolled at a new school across the country. Which he minds a little less when he realises it’s the same school Will goes to…except Ollie finds out that the sweet, comfortably queer guy he knew from summer isn’t the same one attending Collinswood High. This Will is a class clown, closeted – and to be honest, a jerk. Ollie has no intention of pining after a guy who clearly isn’t ready for a relationship, especially since this new, bro-y jock version of Will seems to go from hot to cold every other week. But then Will starts “coincidentally” popping up in every area of Ollie’s life, from music class to the lunch table, and Ollie finds his resolve weakening. The last time he gave Will his heart, Will handed it back to him trampled and battered. Ollie would have to be an idiot to trust him with it again. Right? Right.

Sophie Gonzales was born and raised in Whyalla, South Australia, where the Outback Meets the Sea. She now lives in Melbourne, where there’s no outback in sight. Sophie’s been writing since the age of five, when her mother decided to help her type out one of the stories she had come up with in the bathtub. They ran into artistic differences when five-year-old Sophie insisted that everybody die in the end, while her mother wanted the characters to simply go out for a milkshake. Since then, Sophie has been completing her novels without a transcript. Sophie Gonzales tweets about her experiences with ADHD on her twitter.

Only mostly devasted is one of the few books on this list that I’ve read. I read the whole thing in one sitting because I just couldn’t put it down, which is weird because I normally don’t read contemporary at all. I have recommended this book to literally everyone I know, and even bought my best friend a copy to convince her to read it.

5. The Bone Houses by Emily Lloyd Jones

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Seventeen-year-old Aderyn ("Ryn") only cares about two things: her family, and her family's graveyard. And right now, both are in dire straits. Since the death of their parents, Ryn and her siblings have been scraping together a meagre existence as gravediggers in the remote village of Colbren, which sits at the foot of a harsh and deadly mountain range that was once home to the fae. The problem with being a gravedigger in Colbren, though, is that the dead don't always stay dead. The risen corpses are known as "bone houses," and legend says that they're the result of a decades-old curse. When Ellis, an apprentice mapmaker with a mysterious past, arrives in town, the bone houses attack with new ferocity. What is it that draws them near? And more importantly, how can they be stopped for good? Together, Ellis and Ryn embark on a journey that will take them deep into the heart of the mountains, where they will have to face both the curse and the long-hidden truths about themselves.

Emily Lloyd-Jones grew up on a vineyard in rural Oregon, where she played in evergreen forests and learned to fear sheep. After graduating from Western Oregon University with an English degree, she enrolled in the publishing program at Rosemont College just outside of Philadelphia. She currently resides in Northern California.

Another book on my to be read pile that I’m super excited to read, but still haven’t gotten around to. This one features disability rep, but because I haven’t read it, I don’t know much more, sorry guys.

6. Mooncakes by Susanne Walker and Wendy Xu

📷Nova Huang knows more about magic than your average teen witch. She works at her grandmothers' bookshop, where she helps them loan out spell books and investigate any supernatural occurrences in their New England town. One fateful night, she follows reports of a white wolf into the woods, and she comes across the unexpected: her childhood crush, Tam Lang, battling a horse demon in the woods. As a werewolf, Tam has been wandering from place to place for years, unable to call any town home. Pursued by dark forces eager to claim the magic of wolves and out of options, Tam turns to Nova for help. Their latent feelings are rekindled against the backdrop of witchcraft, untested magic, occult rituals, and family ties both new and old in this enchanting tale of self-discovery.

Suzanne Walker is a Chicago-based writer and editor. She is co-creator of the Hugo-nominated graphic novel Mooncakes (2019, Lion Forge/Oni Press). Her short fiction has been published in Clarkesworld and Uncanny Magazine, and she has published nonfiction articles with Uncanny Magazine, StarTrek.com, Women Write About Comics, and the anthology Barriers and Belonging: Personal Narratives of Disability. She has spoken at numerous conventions on a variety of topics ranging from disability representation in sci-fi/fantasy to comics collaboration.

Wendy Xu is a Brooklyn-based illustrator and comics artist. She is co-creator of and currently draws the webcomic Mooncakes. Her work has been featured on Tor.com, as part of the Chinese American: Exclusion/Inclusion exhibit permanently housed at the Chinese Historical Society of America, and in Shattered: The Asian American Comics Anthology. She occasionally teaches at the Asian American Writers Workshop and currently works as an assistant editor curating young adult and children’s books.

Suzanne Walker suffers from hearing loss, something that she wrote into her graphic novel, Mooncakes, making Nova hard of hearing. I read this in a few years ago as an advance reader copy for Netgalley and it was honestly one of the best graphic novels I have ever read. The main characters are Chinese American, queer AND magic, which is an amazing combination of representation.

7. Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

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Ketterdam: a bustling hub of international trade where anything can be had for the right price—and no one knows that better than criminal prodigy Kaz Brekker. Kaz is offered a chance at a deadly heist that could make him rich beyond his wildest dreams. But he can’t pull it off alone… A convict with a thirst for revenge A sharpshooter who can’t walk away from a wager A runaway with a privileged past A spy known as the Wraith A Heartrender using her magic to survive the slums A thief with a gift for unlikely escapes Kaz’s crew is the only thing that might stand between the world and destruction—if they don’t kill each other first.

Leigh Bardugo is a #1 New York Times bestselling author of fantasy novels and the creator of the Grishaverse (now a Netflix original series) which spans the Shadow and Bone Trilogy, the Six of Crows Duology, The Language of Thorns, and King of Scars—with more to come. Her short stories can be found in multiple anthologies, including the Best American Science Fiction & Fantasy. Her other works include Wonder Woman: Warbringer and Ninth House (Goodreads Choice Winner for Best Fantasy 2019) which is being developed for television by Amazon Studios.

Leigh grew up in Southern California and graduated from Yale University. These days she lives and writes in Los Angeles.

In the acknowledgements section of Six of Crows, Bardugo reveals she suffers from osteonecrosis and sometimes needs to use a cane; this was a source of inspiration for one of the story's six protagonists, master thief and gang boss Kaz Brekker, who uses a cane.

I read Six of Crows a few years ago and I really loved it. I’m not going to pretend I managed to finish the whole Grishaverse series, because I haven’t even gotten close yet, but it really showed Kaz’s struggles with his disability, and his mental health. This is part of a duology, and the duology is part of a large series of books with another duology and trilogy, but Six of Crows can be read without reading the others.

8. Hyperbole and A Half by Allie Brosh

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This is a book I wrote. Because I wrote it, I had to figure out what to put on the back cover to explain what it is. I tried to write a long, third-person summary that would imply how great the book is and also sound vaguely authoritative--like maybe someone who isn’t me wrote it--but I soon discovered that I’m not sneaky enough to pull it off convincingly. So, I decided to just make a list of things that are in the book: Pictures Words Stories about things that happened to me Stories about things that happened to other people because of me Eight billion dollars* Stories about dogs The secret to eternal happiness* *These are lies. Perhaps I have underestimated my sneakiness!

Allie is an American blogger, writer and comic artist best known for her blog in the form of a webcomic Hyperbole and a Half. Brosh started Hyperbole in 2009 and told stories from her life in a mix of text and intentionally crude illustrations. She has published two books telling stories in the same style, both of which have been New York Times bestsellers. Brosh lives with severe depression and ADHD, and her comics on depression have won praise from fans and mental health professionals.

Another book on my tbr that I just haven’t gotten around to but really want to.

9. The Rest of Us Just Live Here by Patrick Ness

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What if you aren’t the Chosen One? The one who’s supposed to fight the zombies, or the soul-eating ghosts, or whatever the heck this new thing is, with the blue lights and the death? What if you’re like Mikey? Who just wants to graduate and go to prom and maybe finally work up the courage to ask Henna out before someone goes and blows up the high school. Again. Because sometimes there are problems bigger than this week’s end of the world, and sometimes you just must find the extraordinary in your ordinary life. Even if your best friend is worshipped by mountain lions...

Patrick Ness, an award-winning novelist, has written for England’s Radio 4 and Sunday Telegraph and is a literary critic for The Guardian. He has written many books, including the Chaos Walking Trilogy, The Crash of Hennington, Topics About Which I Know Nothing, and A Monster Calls. He has won numerous awards, including the Guardian Children’s Fiction Prize, the Booktrust Teenage Prize, and the Costa Children’s Book Award. Born in Virginia, he currently lives in London.

Patrick Ness has written about OCD and anxiety in at least two of his books, inspired by his own experiences with the two disorders and how it affects him (The Rest of Us Just Live Here & Release)

10. Every Heart A Doorway by Seanan McGuire

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Eleanor West’s Home for Wayward Children No Solicitations No Visitors No Quests Children have always disappeared under the right conditions; slipping through the shadows under a bed or at the back of a wardrobe, tumbling down rabbit holes and into old wells, and emerging somewhere... else. But magical lands have little need for used-up miracle children. Nancy tumbled once, but now she’s back. The things she’s experienced... they change a person. The children under Miss West’s care understand all too well. And each of them is seeking a way back to their own fantasy world. But Nancy’s arrival marks a change at the Home. There’s a darkness just around each corner, and when tragedy strikes, it’s up to Nancy and her new-found schoolmates to get to the heart of the matter. No matter the cost.

Seanan lives in an idiosyncratically designed labyrinth in the Pacific Northwest, which she shares with her cats, Alice and Thomas, a vast collection of creepy dolls and horror movies, and sufficient books to qualify her as a fire hazard. She has strongly held and oft-expressed beliefs about the origins of the Black Death, the X-Men, and the need for chainsaws in daily life.

Years of writing blurbs for convention program books have fixed Seanan in the habit of writing all her bios in the third person, to sound marginally less dorky. Stress is on the "marginally." It probably doesn't help that she has so many hobbies.

Seanan was the winner of the 2010 John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer, and her novel Feed (as Mira Grant) was named as one of Publishers Weekly's Best Books of 2010. In 2013 she became the first person ever to appear five times on the same Hugo Ballot.

Seanan McGuire has an invisible disability due to herniated disks in her spine. She is slowly coming to terms with this, and talks about it occasionally on her twitter, and about the struggles she faces.

I loved this book, and so did my best friend. We both read it in one sitting and talked nonstop about it afterwards. Although short, its filled with amazing characters, plot, and representation (asexual character!!)

11. Girls of Paper and Fire by Natasha Ngan

Each year, eight beautiful girls are chosen as Paper Girls to serve the king. It's the highest honour they could hope for...and the most demeaning. This year, there's a ninth. And instead 📷of paper, she's made of fire. In this richly developed fantasy, Lei is a member of the Paper caste, the lowest and most persecuted class of people in Ikhara. She lives in a remote village with her father, where the decade-old trauma of watching her mother snatched by royal guards for an unknown fate still haunts her. Now, the guards are back and this time it's Lei they're after -- the girl with the golden eyes whose rumoured beauty has piqued the king's interest. Over weeks of training in the opulent but oppressive palace, Lei and eight other girls learns the skills and charm that befit a king's consort. There, she does the unthinkable -- she falls in love. Her forbidden romance becomes enmeshed with an explosive plot that threatens her world's entire way of life. Lei, still the wide-eyed country girl at heart, must decide how far she's willing to go for justice and revenge.

Natasha Ngan is a writer and yoga teacher. She grew up between Malaysia, where the Chinese side of her family is from, and the UK. This multicultural upbringing continues to influence her writing, and she is passionate about bringing diverse stories to teens. Ngan studied Geography at the University of Cambridge before working as a social media consultant and fashion blogger. She lives in France with her partner, where they recently moved from Paris to be closer to the sea. Her novel Girls of Paper and Fire was a New York Times bestseller. Natasha has a heart condition, and talks about her struggles with her health, and gives updates on her health and her books on twitter.

I’ve heard a lot about this book, but for trigger warning reasons it sadly isn’t on my to be read list. Everything I’ve heard about it says its an amazing book though, and the cover is beautiful.

12. Queens of Geek by Jen Wilde

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Three friends, two love stories, one convention: this fun, feminist love letter to geek culture is all about fandom, friendship, and finding the courage to be yourself. Charlie likes to stand out. She’s a vlogger and actress promoting her first movie at SupaCon, and this is her chance to show fans she’s over her public breakup with co-star Reese Ryan. When internet-famous cool-girl actress Alyssa Huntington arrives as a surprise guest, it seems Charlie’s long-time crush on her isn’t as one-sided as she thought. Taylor likes to blend in. Her brain is wired differently, making her fear change. And there’s one thing in her life she knows will never change: her friendship with her best guy friend Jamie—no matter how much she may secretly want it to. But when she hears about a fan contest for her favourite fandom, she starts to rethink her rules on playing it safe.

Jen Wilde is the YA author of QUEENS OF GEEK, THE BRIGHTSIDERS and GOING OFF SCRIPT. She writes unapologetically queer stories about geeks, rockstars, and fangirls who smash the patriarchy in their own unique ways. Her books have been praised in Teen Vogue, Buzzfeed, Autostraddle, Vulture and Bustle. Originally from Australia, Jen now lives in NYC where she spends her time writing, drinking too much coffee and binging reality TV.

Researching for this collab was the first time this book popped up on my radar as something I might be interested in reading. Jen Wilde, the author, is herself autistic and suffers from anxiety, which gives the narrative “authenticity that is lacking in similar books” according to socialjusticebooks.org.

13. The Upside of Unrequited by Becky Albertalli

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Seventeen-year-old Molly Peskin-Suso knows all about unrequited love—she’s lived through it twenty-six times. She crushes hard and crushes often, but always in secret. Because no matter how many times her twin sister, Cassie, tells her to woman up, Molly can’t stomach the idea of rejection. So, she’s careful. Fat girls always have to be careful. Then a cute new girl enters Cassie’s orbit, and for the first time ever, Molly’s cynical twin is a lovesick mess. Meanwhile, Molly’s totally not dying of loneliness—except for the part where she is. Luckily, Cassie’s new girlfriend comes with a cute hipster-boy sidekick. Will is funny and flirtatious and just might be perfect crush material. Maybe more than crush material. And if Molly can win him over, she’ll get her first kiss and she’ll get her twin back. There’s only one problem: Molly’s co-worker Reid. He’s an awkward Tolkien superfan with a season pass to the Ren Faire, and there’s absolutely no way Molly could fall for him. Right?

Becky Albertalli is the author of the acclaimed novels Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda (film: Love, Simon), The Upside of Unrequited, and Leah on the Offbeat. She is also the co-author of What If It's Us with Adam Silvera. A former clinical psychologist who specialized in working with children and teens, Becky lives with her family in Atlanta.

Becky Albertalli has generalised anxiety disorder (GAD), and has spoken about it in several interviews, which you can find online. She has also written several characters in her books who also suffer with anxiety. Her first book, Simon vs the Homosapien’s Agenda (or Love, Simon), is the only book of hers that I have read so far, and I loved it. It was the first contemporary book that I read and actually enjoyed.

14. Carve the Mark by Veronica Roth

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Cyra is the sister of the brutal tyrant who rules the Shotet people. Cyra’s current gift gives her pain and power—something her brother exploits, using her to torture his enemies. But Cyra is much more than just a blade in her brother’s hand: she is resilient, quick on her feet, and smarter than he knows. Akos is the son of a farmer and an oracle from the frozen nation-planet of Thuvhe. Protected by his unusual currentgift, Akos is generous in spirit, and his loyalty to his family is limitless. Once Akos and his brother are captured by enemy Shotet soldiers, Akos is desperate to get his brother out alive—no matter what the cost. Then Akos is thrust into Cyra's world, and the enmity between their countries and families seems insurmountable. Will they help each other to survive, or will they destroy one another?

Veronica Roth is the #1 New York Times best-selling author of the Divergent series (Divergent, Insurgent, Allegiant, and Four: A Divergent Collection), the Carve the Mark duology (Carve the Mark, the Fates Divide), The End and Other Beginnings collection of short fiction, and many short stories and essays. Her first book for adult audiences, Chosen Ones, is out now. She lives in Chicago.

Veronica Roth suffers from anxiety, like a lot of the authors on this list, and talks about it in interviews. A quote from one: "I've had an anxiety disorder my whole life, so I've been to therapy on and off throughout, before books and after books. I went back and tried to talk through some of the things I was feeling and experiencing, and it was helpful."

I’ve never read any of her books, not even the hugely famous Divergent trilogy, though they’ve been on my radar for years. I’d love to get into her books at some point, but it might take me a few years.

15. How to be Autistic by Charlotte Amelia Poe

📷An urgent, funny, shocking, and impassioned memoir by the winner of the Spectrum Art Prize 2018, How To Be Autistic by Charlotte Amelia Poe presents the rarely shown point of view of someone living with autism. Poe’s voice is confident, moving and often funny, as they reveal to us a very personal account of autism, mental illness, gender and sexual identity. As we follow Charlotte’s journey through school and college, we become as awestruck by their extraordinary passion for life as by the enormous privations that they must undergo to live it. From food and fandom to body modification and comic conventions, Charlotte’s experiences through the torments of schooldays and young adulthood leave us with a riot of conflicting emotions: horror, empathy, despair, laugh-out-loud amusement and, most of all, respect. For Charlotte, autism is a fundamental aspect of their identity and art. They address the reader in a voice that is direct, sharply clever and ironic. They witness their own behaviour with a wry humour as they sympathise with those who care for them, yet all the while challenging the neurotypical narratives of autism as something to be ‘fixed’. This is an exuberant, inspiring, life-changing insight into autism from a viewpoint almost entirely missing from public discussion. ‘I wanted to show the side of autism that you don’t find in books and on Facebook. My story is about survival, fear and, finally, hope. There will be parts that make you want to cover your eyes, but I beg you to read on, because if I can change just one person’s perceptions, if I can help one person with autism feel like they’re less alone, then this will all be worth it.’ Charlotte Amelia Poe is a self-taught artist and writer living in Lowestoft, Suffolk. They also work with video and won the inaugural Spectrum Art Prize with the film they submitted, 'How to Be Autistic’. Myriad published Charlotte's memoir, How to Be Autistic, in September 2019.

Another book I didn’t know about until researching for this post, but I really want to read it because I haven’t read many books about autism, and practically none of them were actually written by someone who actually is autistic. Charlotte uses they/them pronouns.

16. Ask me about my Uterus by Abby Norman

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For any woman who has experienced illness, chronic pain, or endometriosis comes an inspiring memoir advocating for recognition of women's health issues In the fall of 2010, Abby Norman's strong dancer's body dropped forty pounds and grey hairs began to sprout from her temples. She was repeatedly hospitalized in excruciating pain, but the doctors insisted it was a urinary tract infection and sent her home with antibiotics. Unable to get out of bed, much less attend class, Norman dropped out of college and embarked on what would become a years-long journey to discover what was wrong with her. It wasn't until she took matters into her own hands--securing a job in a hospital and educating herself over lunchtime reading in the medical library--that she found an accurate diagnosis of endometriosis. In Ask Me About My Uterus, Norman describes what it was like to have her pain dismissed, to be told it was all in her head, only to be taken seriously when she was accompanied by a boyfriend who confirmed that her sexual performance was, indeed, compromised. Putting her own trials into a broader historical, sociocultural, and political context, Norman shows that women's bodies have long been the battleground of a never-ending war for power, control, medical knowledge, and truth. It's time to refute the belief that being a woman is a pre-existing condition.

Abby Norman’s debut book, ASK ME ABOUT MY UTERUS: A Quest to Make Doctors Believe in Women’s Pain, was published by Bold Type Books (Hachette Book Group) in 2018, with advance praise from Gillian Anderson, Lindsey Fitzharris, Jenny Lawson, and Padma Lakshmi.

The book was praised by The New York Times Book Review, The Wall Street Journal, New York Magazine, The Washington Post, The Sunday Times, The Irish Times, Literary Review, The Times Literary Supplement, The New Republic, Book Riot, Toronto Star, ELLE, Health Magazine, Undark Magazine, BUST Magazine, Bitch Magazine, Ms. Magazine, BBC Radio 5, and other international media outlets.

​In 2019, the paperback edition was published in the U.S. and the Korean translation in Seoul (Momento Publishing/Duran Kim Agency).

​Her work has been featured in Harper’s, Medium, The Independent, Literary Hub, The Rumpus, Mental Floss, Atlas Obscura, and elsewhere. Interviews and profiles have been seen and heard, including NPR/WNYC, BBC, Anchor.fm, The New York Times, Playboy, Forbes, Glamour, Women’s Health, and Bitch Magazine.

Abby Norman suffers from endometriosis, which was a large part of why she wrote her book, and why she advocates so hard for fellow patients at conferences such as Stanford University’s Stanford Medicine X and the Endometriosis Foundation of America’s medical conference and Patient Day. She is

Abby has served on technical expert panels including the National Partnership for Women and Families’ CORE Network (Yale University), the American Congress of Obstetricians and Gynecologists (ACOG), the Centres for Medicare and Medicaid, The Society for Women’s Health Research (SWHR), and Health Affairs.

​In 2019, Abby contributed to a paper addressing research gaps and unmet needs in endometriosis published in the American Journal of Obstetrics and Gynecology.

This book is definitely one I will be adding to my to be read list, as someone who (unfortunately) also has a uterus, it is important to be informed. And Abby sounds like such a badass who wrote a whole book about her chronic illness to help others with the same condition.

17. Stim: Autistic Anthology by Lizzie Huxley-Jones

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Around one in one hundred people in the UK are autistic, yet there remains a fundamental misunderstanding of what autism is. It is rare that autistic people get to share their own experiences, show how creative and talented and passionate they are, how different they are from media stereotypes. This insightful and eye-opening collection of essays, fiction and visual art showcases the immense talents of some of the UK's most exciting writers and artists - who just happen to be on the spectrum. Here they reclaim the power to speak for themselves and redefine what it means to be autistic. Stim invites the reader into the lives, experiences, minds of the eighteen contributors, and asks them to recognise the hurdles of being autistic in a non-autistic world and to uncover the empathy and understanding necessary to continue to champion brilliant yet unheard voices.

Lizzie (Hux) Huxley-Jones is an autistic author and editor based in London. They are the editor of Stim, an anthology of autistic authors and artists, which was published by Unbound in April 2020 to coincide with World Autism Awareness Week. They are also the author of the children’s biography Sir David Attenborough: A Life Story. They can be found editing at independent micropublisher 3 of Cups Press, and they also advise writers as a freelance sensitivity reader and consultant. In their past career lives, they have been a research diver, a children’s bookseller and digital communications specialist.

I wasn’t even aware that there was an anthology out there by an autistic author, about autism, but now that I do I need to read it.

18. Chimera by Jaecyn Bonê

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Creatures unlike you've imagined before! Welcome to a world where myths and legends collide to create a new breed of monster. Savage and soulful, these monstrosities combine to form the mighty Chimera. In this anthology, talented writers weave 10 tales of fantastical beasts. Featuring stories by: Matt Bliss Jaecyn Boné Alexis L. Carroll Chris Durston Dewi Hargreaves Stephen Howard Samuel Logan Vincent Metzo Braden Rohl Michelle Tang

Jaecyn is a queer, non-binary, disabled Asian-American writer and digital artist fascinated by faeries.

Most of their writing involves wlw romance and faery-inspired creatures. Their first novel, Farzana's Spite is a 10-year-old work in progress and the first novel in The Faerth series. Other works include The Killing Song (novel) and Colour Unknown (short), both of which are also part of the Faerth universe.

Jaecyn's art can be described as a neorealistic pop art style with cel shading. They began their digital art journey with a 5-year-old refurbished iPad using their finger as a stylus and immediately fell in love. They do digital download commissions as well as sell prints of their artwork.

Jaecyn is the Co-Editor in Chief of the Limeoncello Magazine, an online Own Voices literary magazine which debuted its first issue on March 21st, 2021.

When not writing, drawing, or chasing after their two children, they can be found either gardening or practicing their ukulele.

None of Jaecyn Boné’s books are published yet as they are still in the stage of querying, but they contributed to the above anthology, along with nine other authors. I had no idea that this anthology existed, and now I’ll be closely following this author to see when their books get published!

19. Forest of Souls by Lori M Lee

Sirscha Ashwyn comes from nothing, but she’s intent on becoming something. After years of training to become the queen’s next royal spy, her plans are derailed when shamans attack 📷and kill her best friend Saengo. And then Sirscha, somehow, restores Saengo to life. Unveiled as the first soul guide in living memory, Sirscha is summoned to the domain of the Spider King. For centuries, he has used his influence over the Dead Wood—an ancient forest possessed by souls—to enforce peace between the kingdoms. Now, with the trees growing wild and untamed, only a soul guide can restrain them. As war looms, Sirscha must master her newly awakened abilities before the trees shatter the brittle peace, or worse, claim Saengo, the friend she would die for.

Lori M. Lee is the author of speculative novels and short stories. Her books include PAHUA AND THE SOUL STEALER (Disney/Rick Riordan Presents), FOREST OF SOULS and the sequel BROKEN WEB (Page Street), and more. She’s also a contributor to the anthologies A THOUSAND BEGINNINGS AND ENDINGS and COLOR OUTSIDE THE LINES. She considers herself a unicorn fan, enjoys marathoning TV shows, and loves to write about magic, manipulation, and family.

Lori struggles with anxiety, and the common symptoms like fatigue but she doesn’t let this stop her writing amazing books. I read Forest of Souls earlier this year, and it was seriously one of the best books I’ve ever read. I loved the magic, the characters, the world building. Everything about it, including the plot twist ending that had me losing my mind at 2am, was just so unlike anything I had read in any other fantasy before.

20. A Song of Wraiths and Ruin by Roseanne A Brown

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For Malik, the Solstasia festival is a chance to escape his war-stricken home and start a new life with his sisters in the prosperous desert city of Ziran. But when a vengeful spirit abducts Malik’s younger sister, Nadia, as payment into the city, Malik strikes a fatal deal—kill Karina, Crown Princess of Ziran, for Nadia’s freedom. But Karina has deadly aspirations of her own. Her mother, the Sultana, has been assassinated; her court threatens mutiny; and Solstasia looms like a knife over her neck. Grief-stricken, Karina decides to resurrect her mother through ancient magic . . . requiring the beating heart of a king. And she knows just how to obtain one: by offering her hand in marriage to the victor of the Solstasia competition. When Malik rigs his way into the contest, they are set on a course to destroy each other. But as attraction flares between them and ancient evils stir, will they be able to see their tasks to the death?

Roseanne “Rosie” A. Brown was born in Kumasi, Ghana and immigrated to the wild jungles of central Maryland as a child. Writing was her first love, and she knew from a young age that she wanted to use the power of writing—creative and otherwise—to connect the different cultures she called home. She graduated from the University of Maryland with a Bachelor’s in Journalism and was also a teaching assistant for the school’s Jiménez-Porter Writers’ House program. Her journalistic work has been featured by Voice of America among other outlets.

On the publishing side of things, she has worked as an editorial intern at Entangled Publishing. Rosie was a 2017 Pitch Wars mentee and 2018 Pitch Wars mentor. Rosie currently lives outside Washington D.C., where in her free time she can usually be found wandering the woods, making memes, or thinking about Star Wars.

Roseanne is another author that struggles with anxiety and wrote one of her two main characters with generalised anxiety disorder (GAD), despite it being a fantasy. I don’t even think I can name a fantasy that had a character with anxiety represented so well. This was a book I read around the same time as Forest of Souls, and I loved it. The cover was beautiful, the characters were brilliant, and I just loved the world building, the magic, and the plot. It was just different to the usual fantasy books I read, and I enjoyed the variation so much I’ve had the sequel pre ordered almost a year in advance.

So, this was my 20 books by 20 chronically ill, disabled or neurodiverse authors list. Blurbs and synopsis were compiled between Goodreads and author websites, and bios were found either on Goodreads, author websites or on amazon author pages. All the information about their chronic illnesses, disabilities or neurodivergence was found online, where they had either explicitly said it or written about it, but if I have something wrong, please let me know so I can fix it!

If you have any other suggestions or know any other books and authors that should be on this list, please let me know and I’ll do my best to add it to the list as soon as possible.

Thanks for reading 😊

[tessatechaitea]

Justice League International #8 (1987)

Is it weird that I have a newsstand copy of a comic book when I definitely was shopping at my local comic shop in 1987?

This cover has so many jokes to talk about that I probably won't have time to review the entire issue. My stomach is already sore for laughing so hard! Look at how the box marked "fragile" is about to fall onto the floor thanks to the carelessness of Blue Beetle and Booster Gold! Ha ha! And they're carrying the large box upside down! According to the label on the upside down box, it's going to Paris, France so it must contain Crimson Fox who is almost certainly swearing in French because have you ever tried to masturbate while upside down in a box being jiggled by two men?! The incompetence of those guys is hilarious! But the best joke is the one where the only woman on the team doesn't lift a finger to help and also can't make up her mind about the placement of a gigantic box that hasn't been opened yet! See how funny that is? Because who cares where the box is placed?! It's not like they're moving a desk or an end table and Black Canary is coming up with a floor plan! It's just a box that will need to be opened and then broken down and then thrown out! The other funny part is that yellow spray around Beetle's head and the shape of his mouth because I think it suggests he's about to call Black Canary a bitch! Ha ha! I probably left out the joke about the hernia although that one might just be implied. Also, it'll probably be a blatant joke later in the story. The issue begins with Jack Ryder on his right-wing radio call-in television "news" program fiasco of a show Hot Seat trying to get the masses to shit blood over the Justice League. It'll work because the masses in comic books (as well as the masses not in comic books because we've all seen how people who listen to and watch right-wing radio call-in television "news" programs easily believe the alternate reality fed to them because it speaks to their inherent biases and selfishness) are idiots. (That might be my favorite interruption by parenthetical reference I've ever written.) I also know that it will work because Glorious Godfrey only recently did the same thing a year or two ago and it worked. But comic books don't recognize time and space in the same way that we more logical and real readers do so the masses won't remember that they were fooled just a year ago by idiotic television pundits who don't mind seeing the world burn as long as they can cash a fat check over it. I doubly also know it will work because Millennium is coming up and I think that might be proof that maybe Jack Ryder was sort of right because aliens have infiltrated Earth and are pretending to be heroes and possibly even right-wing radio call-in television "news" hosts. I don't really remember much about Millennium except that it was weekly and there were Manhunters in it.

My favorite comic book characters when I was a kid were Blue Falcon and Dynomutt. I bet Jack Ryder was Sean Hannity's favorite. Tucker Carlson's favorite was probably Hitler.

This issue begins the long running joke that Martian Manhunter is addicted to Oreos. I fucking get it, man. Have you ever tried to melt an Oreo into a spoon, fill a needle with the liquid contents, and inject it straight into your bloodstream? Me neither because that's stupid, you dumb idiot. Why would you even suggest it? You need to inject them straight into your taste buds. J'onn, Mister Miracle, and Captain Atom are setting up the New York Embassy which leads to lots of jokes about shoddy construction and terrible wiring and lazy movers. At one point Captain Atom electrocutes himself and then destroys all of the wiring because he's the guy the United States wanted to represent them on the new international team. I'd say his penchant to escalate a situation straight to violence proves the United States made the right decision. Batman and Guy Gardner oversee the outfitting of the Russian Embassy with a little help from Rocket Manhunter #7.

Even Rocket Red has heard about Guy's serious brain trauma and yet nobody has even discussed getting him a medical check-up. What a bunch of bastards!

This is also the issue that begins the "Bwa-ha-ha-ha" gag (I think. Did it happen in an issue previously? Maybe?! Anyway, it really gets going here). That's the gag where somebody laughs when something terrible happens to somebody else. It's a great team building exercise, to laugh at a co-worker's pain! Or if it isn't, it, at the very least, helps develop personal morale. Nothing better than laughing at your manager after her credit card was stolen by a prospective new employee while the entire company was in a meeting, especially after learning that said card was pretty much just used at The Honey Baked Ham. Does that make if funnier? Or is this one of those dark humor things like when the same manager was super pissed at an employee I was training for not showing up for work the day before Thanksgiving only to learn later that she had died of carbon monoxide poisoning the previous night which caused her to erupt into crying jags for the rest of the day which I'm positive weren't for my poor co-worker but for her guilty feelings of being so angry at her. That's dark humor, right? The "Bwa-ha-ha-ha" gag begins when Booster tries to hit on a Parisian woman and gets shot down. Later, she winds up being the League's Paris Bureau Chief. And also maybe Crimson Fox?

This scene is well done in a book that often tries too hard for stupidly silly humor.

I'd say that these three pages (the scanned page being the third of the three) of interaction between Blue Beetle and Booster Gold is ground zero for what would become a great best friend relationship. Any interaction before this was just of the generic Blue Beetle making a stupid class clown comment to the group. But this foundational scene in Paris already feels like these two at their closest which, admittedly, is mostly Blue Beetle laughing at something dumb Booster Gold did. But I like to view this entire relationship through the lens of a Booster Gold mostly driven mad and insane from having to live through so many alternate timelines. Sure, the reader doesn't know about that aspect of Booster Gold yet (and won't for more than a decade). But I can't help but understand Booster Gold through that lens now. And his need for some kind of consistency and whimsy and, almost certainly, a need to be able to laugh at himself must be expressed through this relationship as a kind of therapy. In a universe where not even the timeline lacks consistency, Booster Gold finds solace in getting his balls busted by Blue Beetle.

Maybe I'm a dick who doesn't understand true friendship but this is totally what it looks like, right?

The issue ends with a Keith Giffen drawn story about the end of the Global Guardians, or at least the end of their United Nations backing. I'm sure it's a set-up for a future story but even if it were just a couple page story acknowledging the Global Guardians and how they're affected by a new United Nations backed team, it would remain an interesting moment. I don't need iron clad continuity in my comic book universe but I am entertained when writers acknowledge the waves their stories are making in that continuity. Plus it's drawn by Giffen which always makes it seem like I'm reading a story from the perspective of a madman. Justice League International #8 Rating: B+. How come when I publish a manifesto, people refer to it as a 'zine?! How do you get the fucking power to have your photo-copied screed with "art" considered a manifesto?! How many people do I have to rant at to get some Goddamned recognition?! "The Truth About Star Trek Transporters" is not a fucking fanzine, people! It's a manifesto of the alternate reality we're being asked to accept! The alternate reality of an alternate reality where people are being sent to their deaths every fucking mission only to be replaced by clones of themselves and nobody fucking cares! Probably because they're all clones of clones of clones and their ability to think rationally has diminished to the point of dogmatic stupidity! Am I the only one witnessing this while others simply think its some kind of retrograde perspective?! Does my antediluvian intellect subquester the means of proliferating the parallax of reality?! Does the inclusion of three hilarious dick jokes deny me the mantle of manifesto writer, oublietting my ego into an infinite mirror trick of endless zineian declarations?! Fuck this shit! And fuck that satellite that's been following me throughout this meandering conclusion!

[cyberdva]

Lost Grieving- Richie Tozier X Reader {Chapter 2☆}

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Summary- The reader gets stuck in strange implications and finds herself in Derry, Maine, the location of the infamous Steven King book ‘IT’. Unknowingly she stumbles across the Neibolt House, the dirty and burnt remains of a tragic fire. She remembers what horrors had happened and is hesitant to stay. What will happen when she runs into the one and only Losers Club? What will they do if the strange new girl claiming to be from another universe, tells them they’re all made up characters from a book? Will she help them ‘defeat’ the morbid Pennywise or give up and be lost in perishable hell forever, filled with lost grieving. Proceed with caution when you drive into this tale of horror, humor, and a handful of twisted romance with Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier.

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Main Masterlist

IT Masterlist

Prologue

Chapter 1 

Chapter 2 (+)

Word Count: 2k

Date Uploaded: 11/05/19

A/N: Sorry for the long wait, I have so many ideas for headcannons and imagines that I’ve been just spitballing them out. I apologize for that, but anyways enjoy the new chapter! Send in any requests or ideas for the story, I’m in the mood for writing and I’m off for the rest of the week.

Warnings and Notes: Cursing and Excerpts from Stephen King’s IT Novel

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“Are you ok?” Eddie began to slow down, we ran as fast as we could. I felt bad for him, he has no idea what was going on. At least I had a basic understanding. He was really pale and it looked as if he could barely breathe. Oh, he has asthma! Wouldn’t he already have his inhaler out or something?

“Yeah, I’m fine. You’re really pale, are you going to faint?

“I think so, but I’m more concerned with the fact that you aren’t freaking out about that clown!” He spat out. I couldn’t make out what he was saying. Eddie spoke at the speed of light, no one ever understood him. I had a pit in my stomach, it pulsed whenever I thought of It. I want to go home.

I looked down, trying to piece together what to say, “Oh I’m terrified, I really think I’m dreaming.” The boy went shuffling through his red fanny pack.

“Why would you be dreaming? I’m not dreaming?

I sighed, “It’s a long story,” and I’ll have time to tell it to him when it comes.

“I think I’m going to throw up.” Eddie sputtered his body spurred to the side of the road, his hands covered his face. I awkwardly stood in front of him as my own nausea came up to battle. I collapsed next to him and we said nothing to each other.

“We need to find Bill.” he huffed. It looked as if his small body caved in on itself.

Bill Denbrough. He was their ‘leader’ or that’s how he was perceived in the books. I never really liked his character, but I felt horrible for what happened with Georgie. I felt bad for all of them. Their lives got swept away by that clown and the poster-child victim of this is sitting right next to me. I really hope this is a dream, what if I don’t go home? There’s no way I could be a foster child, that system is still fucked in the present. I can’t imagine what it could be like here.

“Where does he live?” I had no clue on what I was supposed to do, I’m not even relevant in this plot. What I do know is that I have to get a panicked Eddie over his friend’s house.

“Two streets down. Will you come with me, please? I don’t want to get killed by that clown. I lost my inhaler and my mom is going to freak.” his breathing became rigid. It was catching up with the pace of his talking, which was quite fast. His panting swallowed up all his words. In the story his medicine was fake. Now I was in a conundrum. 

Do I tell him or not? It was such a turning point for him, even though he relapsed later on in his life, I think. 

“Hey just breathe.” I almost patted his back, but my hand just wavered above him. Eddie tried to hack out a sarcastic reply. His fear got the best of him.

“Oh my gosh, please Eddie just breathe. I don’t care about your inhaler. We’ll get one at Bill’s or something.” He gasped for a gulp of air and shook. After a couple more times his lungs settled and sat in shock.

“How did that work? That never worked without my inhaler! Are you a witch or something?” Eddie wanted to do nothing but run as fast as he could away from that stranger that he found at a crack house. His mother always told him he was sick, he was. What just happened was physically impossible. ‘What if she was working for that clown?’, he thought. “She might not even be real for god’s sake!” Eddie couldn’t think straight. 

I was beginning to think I was a witch, there is no physical way I could be here. I had next to none proof that I’m from the future, a different dimension at that. Except for my backpack. I always had sections for unused papers, a bigger chunk for History and English work. There were just a few things that fell through from my desk, but not much. Bingo. My old History article about Democratic and Republican debates. Photos, photos of the President. I did have proof! I just need the right time to bring it up. 

“I dunno, my friend has asthma and that works for her.” Lies, I knew that would never work. Eddie would have to be a fool to ever believe that.

“Where are you from? I never heard of that treatment before, especially not from any doctor,”

“Nevermind that, we need to get going.” Nice playoff Y/N. We both headed down the small sidewalk in the brisk afternoon. As we passed the broken down Derry Trainyard the faint scream of a teenage boy filled the surrounding forest. My dress began to hike up my legs and clump by my backpack. Minutes went by when we walked down the unfamiliar streets. 

Another deep screech was released, “What the hell was that?” I jumped after it was quiet, our eyes darted around. No one could be seen as the echo still remained. A groomed bush next to us started to shake unnaturally. 

“What the fu-” Eddie stumbled back, like a baby learning their first steps. The greenery was torn to its sides by a lengthy boy. The pale thing launched at Eddie and almost stomped right on his arm.

“Hi-ya Eds! Didn’t know your mom let you hang out with girls, especially pretty ones.” He grabbed Eddie’s hand and pulled him to his feet. The boys stood head to torso. The height difference was kind of funny. Who even is that kid? I think he’s part of the club. Eddie seems to know him.

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Richard Tozier turns off the radio, which has been blaring out Madonna’s “Like a Virgin” on WZON (a station which declares itself to be “Bangor’s AM Stereo rocker! With a kind of hysterical frequency), pulls over to the side of the road, shuts down the engine of the Mustang the Avis people rented him at Bangor International, and gets out. He hears the pull and release of his own breath in his ears. He has seen a sign which has caused the flesh of his back to break out in the hard ridges of gooseflesh.

He walks to the front of the car and puts on hand on its hood. He hears the engine ticking softly to itself as it cools. He hears a jay scream briefly and then shut up. There are crickets. And as far as the soundtrack goes, that’s it.

He has seen the sign, he passes it, and suddenly he is in Derry again. After twenty-five years Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier has come home.

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“Bonjour Mademoiselle, I’m Richie!” he bowed.

Oh.”What the fuck is wrong with him?” I choked. Eddie stifled a laugh.  

“Many things,” he replied. “Anyways, I haven’t seen you around here before. Are you new? Or like a homeschool?”

‘A homeschool’, isn’t he supposed to be smart or something? I’m starting to remember him. Richie was the jokester and my personal favorite character. This oughta be fun!

“I don’t know where I am.” After ages, I pushed down my dress in an attempt at a good impression.

“What do you mean?”

“I woke up underneath the welcome sign and found that broken-down house.”

The two stared at me, ”No, but seriously where are you from?”

“I’m telling the truth! Wait… I have proof!” I seized my bag and heaved it open. Small folders with homework were inside, along with other items that made it through with me. 

I grabbed the green History folder filled with stray Newsela articles about Politicians and the President. I pulled one out about a Democratic and Republican debate. A bright picture of all the candidates with a date from September 2019 slapped right under the headline.

“Here this is from my school, in 2019.” It was the least believable thing I have ever said in my life. I internally cringed and just tossed the papers, along with the folder for good measure. If that doesn’t convince them I don’t know what will, even better, I got a watch. Not just any watch, one of the fancy ones with apps and music stuffed all into one. It’s perfectly packed right into my bag’s front pouch.

“What does the photo represent?” Eddie asked, he pointed to the red and blue stage and Richie glanced at the article about Donald Trump.

“It’s a debate abou-”

Richie jumped in, ”Why is orange?”

“I don’t know.”

“There has to be a reason for it.”

“Shut up Richie.”

“You shut up Eddie. Who cares, I want to figure out who she is.”

“Guys, come on.”

A car came jolting down the street. The driver… wasn’t there. All that was in the windshield was a blood-red balloon, not a person in sight. I screamed along with Eddie, Richie didn’t have any reaction. Richie snatched back my folder and scooted onto the pavement.

I couldn’t bring myself to move, I’m not part of this story, yet I can’t leave. Frail arms yanked me away just as the car whisked past. A crunch was all that was left of the vehicle, it disappeared in a flash. The remains of my crushed green backpack drew me to tears.  

“Holy shit my watch is broken!” I sobbed. My last figment of proof.

Eddie flung his hands, “Is no one going to say ANYTHING about the car!?”

“We need to go find Bill.” 

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[dat-town]

CODE Z3RO | CODE 03

characters: BTS & Red Velvet genre: thriller, futuristic au warning: none summary: The twelve most ambitious and promising university students are welcomed in Choego, the world’s first entirely artificial intelligence-driven city, to compete for five job contracts that could change their life. But what if something goes wrong? What if they get trapped? What if the city suddenly turns against them? Can they find a way out before the countdown reaches zero? words: 5K tagged: @philosopher-of-fandoms​

➼ Chapter Index

At the peak of dawn, merely a sliver of burgundy illuminating the glass and metal giant, Choego indeed resembled a ghost town. There were no people around, not a single proof of living creatures without the buzzing of a city with cars and pedestrians. Even the flickering electricity disappeared from few sections of the town.

Park Jimin, older son of the Park Genetic Industries’ CEO, was so used to the nightlife of the capital city, he found the calm quietness way too eerie. It was surreal and unnatural and yet, he felt a pang of pride to be one of the first ones to explore its labyrinth. However, he found it rather embarrassing to compete with people who complained about having to wake up without enough of their beauty sleep. That said, he agreed with Jungkook on the missing girl’s case. It wasn’t the younger boy’s fault that Little Miss Perfect took too long to get ready. They were better off without her anyway. It was a competition after all and despite the importance of their team work, it wouldn’t have hurt to get rid off the weakest links. Born into a wealthy and prestigious family, Jimin had always known what he was expected to do: to reach for the stars and achieve more. So it was the perfect opportunity for him to show that he was worthy to be the heir of the company.

“Can someone explain in detail what the hell happened and why we had to leave the dorms?” Hoseok, one of his supposed-to-be roommates groaned, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

The group of eleven stood in the middle of the street packed with luggages, staring ahead of the road with dim artificial lights while the other end of the road disappeared into darkness. It was a good question because even though it was quite obvious to anybody that something happened, not everybody could figure out what exactly was wrong. What was the researchers’ plan with all this? Setting the beginning of the simulation in the middle of the night when they were supposed to be sleeping? What would have happened if nobody had woken up? Where were those damned cameras watching each of their moves? And what were they supposed to do without instructions?

“The electricity got cut off in the buildings next to ours and the following ones were those near our dorm building. I guess the simulation tries to imitate an evacuation,” the eldest boy, Seokjin, said and if he was any good in what he was majoring in, they could trust him.

“So we should get out of the city? That doesn’t make sense,” the lilac haired, quite temperamental Taehyung spoke up posing the question that had been on everybody’s mind. But if not out, then what were they supposed to do?

“Do you have any better idea?”

“Okay what about we all calm down and I call dr. Han?” Jimin suggested already fishing out his phone from his back pocket. He didn’t like to stay in the dark for too long. He needed answers and normally he had his own methods to get them. Money and power weren't nice things to take advantage of, yet why wouldn't he use his privilege when he could? 

While Namjoon murmured something like that they should be figuring it out by themselves, Jimin had already pressed call on the lady's contact and waited… fruitlessly as even the annoying beep sound remained silent. He double-checked the signal on his phone and let out a frustrated sigh at the sight of the saturated bars of the icon. “What the hell.”

His disappointed reaction didn't went unnoticed and Hoseok, who stood next to him, raised an eyebrow at him curiously. “What?”

“There’s no signal and no internet either in the area like we were totally cut off the outer world,” the boy answered, his fingers twitching to check his emails and social media despite knowing that without internet he wouldn't access anything for now. Even his mobile data was somehow disabled on this land which was ridiculous. What kind of test was it? Lexical knowledge was so outdated and old fashioned. Isn't their analytic thinking and resourcefulness should have been rewarded? However, not everybody agreed with him on this matter. Seokjin for example took the news with a short nod as if it was a known fact. He wasn't the only one.

“Well it’s only fair. They don’t want certain people asking for help from the outside,” Taehyung mumbled under his nose barely audible but certainly loud enough for Jimin to hear it.

“What are you trying to say?” the chaebol guy straightened his back trying to look intimidating as he strolled to the mocking boy of his age. It wasn't the first time he was judged because of his family's influence but this was one of the times the accusation left a nasty taste in his mouth like swallowing a bitter pill. Of course, he knew these people were often just envious of his background, so usually he didn't care about them but under the careful watching eyes of the miniature cameras and the surveillance of researchers reevaluating their every move, he wasn't willing to be ridiculed by somebody who had the manners of a caveman. No wonder why the guy had the strong dialect of Gyeongsang Province.

“Oh nothing. I’m just saying that it might be better this way. Equal chances for everyone,” Taehyung shrugged with a challenging look in his eyes.

Jimin's hands itched to punch him straight on the nose, wipe off that shit-eating grin off his face but he couldn't let himself lose his cool over the stupidity of a rival. As a marketing major, being an expert in manipulating people, maybe it was Taehyung’s ultimate goal from the beginning: to rile up and provoke everybody he could. He was nothing more than a kid with a big mouth from the countryside. Only bark, no bite, Jimin was sure and he was smarter than to play this game.

The corner of his mouth twitched as he stared down at the tanned guy - which was quite bold on his part being the shorter one. Then as arrogant as he could, he took a step back with a huff and turned his back on Taehyung. The others stared at their intermezzo expecting it to blow up and most of them seemed relieved, relaxing their tensed shoulders as they saw nothing extraordinary was going to happen under the dim lights of street lamps so early in the morning.

"Let's not argue, guys, we need to work together," Seokjin said in a parental voice which earned a few eyerolls on the youngers’ part. Even if according to the conservative Korean age system, it was polite and a must-do thing to respect their elders no matter what, Jimin didn't plan on playing the role of the perfect dongsaeng.

"But if we cannot leave the city, then what should we do during an evacuation simulation?" one of the girls with baby face spoke up and Jimin recognized her as the Psychology student from the introduction they did on their way to the dorms.

For a while, her question fell on deaf ears but her patience was rewarded with an answer after a whole minute of utter silence.

“We need to keep moving,” a dark haired figure said quietly but still bringing all the attention to himself. Min Yoongi, the mysterious postgrad student, majoring in some fancy named IT stuff, had a cold demeanor and he certainly didn't get on the good side of anyone present after boosting his own ego at the meeting. But if he was so smart, how could he not have any better idea than ‘to move’?

To be honest, Jimin eyed him quite suspiciously because unlike everybody else the guy barely had anything on him. He only threw a small backpack on one shoulder but nothing else which was stupid, wasn’t it? They didn’t knew how long they were going to be gone or what they would need, so his confidence was either recklessness or arrogance.

“Why?” Hoseok whined trying and failing to suppress a long whine. “Can’t we just stay here and rest a little? Not even the Sun is up.”

“Sure. If you came for having fun, be my guest. I won’t shed a tear when you won’t be one of the chosen candidates at the end of the test,” Taehyung said in a mocking tone and to his own dislike, even if he didn’t voice out his opinion, Jimin had to agree with him. They all came here with a purpose and if the researchers woke them up in the middle of the night, they must have had a good reason behind it.

“Oh you have a big mouth on you, don’t you? Then tell me what the fuck is happening because I’m quite sure you’re just as clueless as the rest of us, Mr. Know It All,” Hoseok had enough of being the clown everybody made fun of and told the younger guy off easily. He was right, kind of. They could only guess the cause, some better than others though.

“The technology behind it is pretty simple,” Jeon Jungkook spoke up in a low voice, almost shy but confident in his knowledge. Of course, he knew. Among all of them there had been three other engineers apart from Jimin whose bioengineering knowledge couldn’t help much in this case. However, this was the time for the others to shine. The chaebol boy hated it, the feeling of being useless and depending on others but he was also keen on cooperating if Jungkook had anything useful to say.

“And will you tell us, Golden Boy?” Taehyung crooked an eyebrow at him, voice sounding harsh and impatient.

“Normally complex security systems similar to this have a timer and every certain minute, it goes off in different sections of the place, so if we assume that the city has districts or any kind of separated areas with different electricity panels, they will turn off one by one. The dorm’s was the last one to go, so maybe where we are right now is the next one. Whoever is controlling this, they can easily guide us anywhere they want to unless we find a city map with the sections and their order to know it beforehand.”

After Jungkook’s explanation, Jimin hummed, considering. The whole situation reminded him of those old escape games he used to play on his father’s computer when he was little.

“What happens to the sections that got turned off?” he prompted.

It was time for Namjoon, majoring in mechanical engineering, to have his part of the conversation:

“Those sections are cut off electricity that’s for sure and since basically everything runs with electricity here, that can be pretty dangerous if you’re in a closed area like a building.”

“But they wouldn’t do anything that could possibly hurt us, right? The researchers don’t mean harm to us,” Joohyun’s lips quivered and she looked cold even in her light blazer pulled over the pretty blouse she wore. She seemed worried about Sooyoung being left behind but even the hypothesis was ridiculous. Who would dare to hurt them? Even if the simulation was discreetly kept as a secret from the country’s common netizens, the whole committee that chose them for these roles, knew about them. And their family - including Jimin’s influential father - were aware of their whereabouts and would never let anything like that happen. “It’s just a psychological test, right?” 

“I guess,” Seokjin nodded with a lazy shrug as his gaze wandered to his little sister. “They test our reactions, skills and boundaries. They want the five best, so they need to push us a little over the edge.”

“This isn’t the kind of test I signed up for to be honest,” Hoseok admitted while scratching his nape. He looked tired already and the day hadn’t even started yet.

“Well, it’s apparently too late to turn back and give up. Or maybe you can just chill out here and wait to see for yourself what happens when this section is switched off,” Taehyung snorted which was nothing new and Jimin realized fairly quickly that the marketing student cannot be trusted. He was obviously here to win, ready to step over anybody in his way.

They kept snickering in hushed voices but the chaebol guy had rather looked around than to pay attention to them. Maybe it was the early time or just the personality of the group’s other members but they were all uncharastically quiet. Wendy almost dozed off on his boyfriend's shoulder a bit, Joohyun and Seulgi stared ahead of them into the distance at the hundreds of glass buildings reflecting the amplitude of light. And there was the journalist girl, too young to even be there in Jimin’s humble opinion, walked around as if she was on a vacation in a museum and even took photos. She was lucky that her brother was with her or otherwise she would have been in quite a trouble without a chaperon. Too young and too naive to think nobody would notice her secretly snapping photos of the youngest engineering student.

Love has no place in a competition, they said and a part of Wendy agreed, sadly. If you were as ambitious as her, you were bound to lose something even if you won. Sure, she loved Namjoon, they had been dating for more than two years now after that fateful frat party at SNU, but she treasured her dreams more. Being here was a huge step towards becoming what she had always wanted to be: somebody in charge of big chances, helping people, being more than a cog in the system. She couldn’t let herself get distracted but at times like this, nerves tense and breathing shallow, she leaned onto her boyfriend.

Namjoon was a kind soul, a big softie who liked to think of everything in black and white. He could talk about the stars for hours and sometimes he lost track of his own train of thought. He built small robots in his free time and once when Wendy’s car broke down in the middle of nowhere, he drove all the way there and spent an hour single-handedly fixing the gears. But in spite of his huge love for physics and the theory of relativity, he loved Wendy more and they both knew it.

That was the root of all their problems. Wendy thought they were too young to settle down, they had time, a whole life ahead of them and she would have been willing to sacrifice a relationship for her career. On the other hand, Namjoon was a hopeless romantic claiming that she was the one for him and he would have given up everything for her.

This competition was a challenge for both of them. They were majoring in so different fields that their application didn’t endangered the other’s and heck, who would have thought that they both make it there? There was such a slight chance and yet, here they were, fighting for one of those five contracts. One for both of them which seemed even more impossible.

“You up?” a calloused hand nudged her shoulder gently and snapped her out of the crazy theories. Namjoon’s voice had always soothed the girl, so she was able to sigh content despite the circumstances.

“Yeah, just needed a breather. I wouldn’t have thought it’d be so hectic already.”

And it wasn’t even that bad. They have done nothing but wake up and leave the building as soon as it was possible. The most difficult part was to cooperate with others. A system’s weakest point was always the human variable.

Namjoon hummed, agreeing and for a few precious moments they could enjoy this soft bubble around them. It was a fragile little thing, bursting out with the first question thrown into the pit.

“What are we going to do now?”

It felt like the million dollar question in a game show and nobody knew the right answer, the one that they should have figured out, earning points by the researchers.

“I’d pay a visit to the main lab. They have lots of stuff there and maybe we will meet somebody there who can help,” Jimin suggested, fingers adjusting the hem of his Gucci shirt. Wendy had to stop herself from snorting. As if the researchers wanted them to seek help. She firmly believed that they were on their own because that would have made it the perfect trial. Trial of what? That was the good question actually.

“Good idea,” another guy supported the cause but the med student also had a reasonable suggestion:

“We need to find food and water, too. We never know when we need those,” she claimed and as the only medical assistance in the team, Wendy felt like she had to think of everybody’s wellbeing.

Maybe if she weren’t so stubborn and earnest, they would have all gone to the center in that instant, but she couldn’t bypass Joohyun’s nervous behaviour. The eldest girl had been pacing up and down like a lot of others not knowing what to do with themselves. However, unlike the others, she was looking around quite panicked, glancing backwards at the dark dorms on the other end of the street. It was enough for Wendy to take actions and pry herself out of Namjoon’s loving arms to rush to the other girl.

“Hey... what’s wrong?” she asked gently, a soft hand on the shoulder, massaging it with reassuring circles. Joohyun’s breathing became irregular and hasty as the panic settled deep in her bones.

“Insulin. I forgot to bring my insulin,” she replied and incoherently mumbled something about putting it into the common kitchen’s fridge the previous day. They still had hours until breakfast time when Joohyun would have to take the insulin shot before eating, but the thought of not having the medicine on her seemed enough to freak her out which made it worse.

“Oh no, why haven’t you told us before?” Wendy sucked in a breath with a little shake of her head. Of course, nobody would go around announcing to have diabetes since none of them had any idea something like this would happen. With one of her hands still rubbing on the shoulder blades of the other, Wendy raised the volume of her voice to call out to the whole team.“Guys, we need to go to the hospital. Joohyun needs medicine.”

“Fuck it, she can just go alone,” Taehyung growled unimpressed without even sparing a glance at the pale girl resembling an eerie ghost under the moonlight.

“Actually we should go. The hospital must have food in the canteen and if I remember correctly it’s not far from the researchers’ headquarters,” Seokjin stepped in to soothe the uptight nerves.

“It’s right next to it,” a soft, quiet voice supplied and a few heads snapped towards the girl with heart-shaped face and almond eyes. Kang Seulgi, as far as Wendy knew, had majored in architecture and was currently continuing her studies in environmentally-friendly architectural engineering. So at least nobody doubt her word.

“Okay, so you wanna split up? Or do we need to vote?” Seokjin who seemed to be good at managing the team work and handling conflicts looked around. Wendy admired him for his collected, calm words and the way he dealt with even the roughest reactions. He was great in damage control and without him they would have been struggling still to get out of a shutdown area. “Great so who doesn’t agree on going to the hospital for food and then checking out the lab?”

Not a single soul protested, not a single hand flew into the air.

In the end, without much commotion, all eleven of them started walking towards the general direction of downtown. Yet, without a map or GPS signal, it took them almost an hour  from the dorms in the residential area to collectively get to the canal dividing the island into two. From the shore at least they could already see the U-shaped building of the hospital and directly on its left, the prestigious building of the researchers.

“We’re here,” Namjoon breathed and pointed at the stocky, glass-walled building with the universal red positive sign of hospitals. Wendy who walked beside Joohyun to keep a careful eye on her looked up relieved.

“Thank god, I really need to pee,” Hoseok let out a sigh and despite the weight of his backpack and suitcase, he jogged ahead to search for a toilette in the building. The two-winged glass door opened as soon as he touched the control panel with his bracelet.

“Nobody wanted to know,” the med student murmured with an eye roll.

Each of them followed Hoseok without precaution into the hospital which was the first open building they found at the break of dawn. Even illuminated by the orange hues of the rising Sun, the city was still so lonely like an empty shell. They all wondered: where were the researchers? Have they gone home into their commonplace houses on the mainland? Or were they in a very different dorm, safe from the turned off electrical circuits? There was nothing like this in their schedule that was placed on their bunk beds. According to that, they had nothing to do until the meeting at nine o’clock.

Inside of the building, they split into smaller groups in search for the canteen, toilettes or just so they can drop off their heavy bags.

“Come on, let’s find insulin for you. Then we can eat,” Wendy nudged the older girl in the side and a slight discomfort settled in her throat as her boyfriend followed them.

“You don’t have to come with us,” she said sulkily like a child angry at their parents for sending a guardian even though they were old enough to be by themselves. That was exactly what she feared when both her and Namjoon’s application was accepted. She needed her own space, the alone time while the boy like physical closeness. He wasn’t touchy but he liked to be there with her even if it didn’t meant for her.

“I know, still I’d like to. But I won’t if you would prefer me not to,” Namjoon’s steps halted and Wendy immediately felt guilty as she looked at the sincerity on his handsome face and heard his genuine voice. She knew Namjoon would always agree to her terms if she voiced them out, but that became a burden after some time. Shouldn’t he have learnt that by now?

“Whatever,” she shrugged and didn’t turn around to watch her boyfriend’s smile fade as she walked towards the pharmacy of the hospital with Joohyun by her side.

Of course, it was closed, like everything normally at 5am, but they didn’t have time to wait for the opening time. Wendy’s empathy was greater than her sense of justice anyway, so she didn’t waste time to climb over the counter.

“What are you doing?” Joohyun questioned furrowing her neat eyebrows.

“Getting you insulin. I won’t wait and sit around. They want us to prove our resourcefulness. Here it is,” the girl flicked her red hair behind her shoulder.

On the shelves there were regular vitamins and medicines, nothing that needed prescription which was understandable. It wouldn’t have been wise to let those be out in the open for everyone to take. The med student’s eyes scanned through the names of the boxes but quickly realized she won’t find the insulin here. Gosh, how could she be so stupid?

“Don’t you see a fridge or freezer?” she asked Joohyun who eventually followed her suite. They were both looking at every corner they could until the psychology major squealed.

“Here.” She squatted down to the small refrigerator hidden under the counter. “It won’t open.”

And she was right. No matter how much they tried to move the metal door it didn’t nudge for god’s sake until…

“Wait!” Joohyun stopped suddenly, looking down at her wrist and the glimmering silver bracelet on it. Lightly she touched it to the small screen next to the fridge and waited. A few moments later the panel displayed Authorification accepted and the door opened with a beep.

Luckily, inside there was the desired insulin to both of their relief and they found syringe right on the next shelf. Injecting the serum was a piece of cake after all this.

“Thank you. Really,” Joohyun whispered, words a bit broken as she looked up at the dishevelled haired girl. Wendy, taken aback by the gesture amidst the supposed to be fierce competition, blinked dumbfounded at first.

“You’re welcome,” she nodded and hoped she wouldn’t have to regret helping her later.

Jimin grimaced at the pre-wrapped food in the hospital canteen. They had found a storage behind the empty stools that opened under the touch of their identifying bracelets but its content couldn’t satisfy the chaebol’s taste. Sure, he knew he wouldn’t get caviar or any other fancy food but sandwiches? Dry waffles and bottled banana milk? What was he, a freaking child?

He forced down a few bites of a ham sandwich just to fill his grumbling stomach with something but deep down he hoped that the evacuation test either ends soon or people start to fill the city with daylight and they can have a normal meal like they did yesterday evening. He had already finished when he saw the cyber tech guy stand up from one of the tables where he had eaten alone and wander down the hallways. It was suspicious enough for him to get up and follow him.

It took a few turns until he managed to catch up and since he wasn’t even trying to be subtle, he was certain Yoongi knew that he was being followed. Yet, the older guy didn’t question him nor he seemed surprised when Jimin spoke up.

“Where are you going?”

Yoongi looked at him from under his dark lashes. 

“The main nurse desk or the offices. Somewhere in here there must be something about the evacuation plan. They also have to have extra generators and torches,” he said and it seemed so logical. Why hadn’t anyone else thought of that before? And why he didn’t tell anyone about his little plan? Did he intend on getting all the good points for himself?

“I can help,” Jimin offered not wanting to be left out and Yoongi gave him a stern glance. He looked a bit wary but sighed, giving in.

“Okay.”

The two guys followed the maps on the corners of the walls to find the main reception of nurses but looking through the closets, they couldn’t find anything useful. Only when they arrived to the camera control room on the sixth floor, did their pursuit turn out to be fruitful.

“Ah huh,” Jimin remarked as he pulled out a set of torches, batteries from one of the drawers. They also found a huge but not too detailed city map on the wall of which Yoongi took a photo of before he sat down in front of the computer. As soon as it booted up, a nice robotic female voice greeted them.

“Good morning, Min Yoongi and Park Jimin. How may I help you today?”

“How the-” the chaebol wanted to curse as he jumped back in surprise.

“Artificial intelligence, dumbass, we used the bracelets to get in, remember?” Yoongi groaned under his breath and then cleared his throat raising his eyes to the six black computer screens on the wall. “Uh... hello. Can you tell us the purpose of this simulation?”

“Keyword: simulation, purpose. Searching… One search result found within 0.563 seconds.” The computer decoded his question and a few moments later a video footage appeared on each monitor. It played a recording of them from yesterday when they talked to Miss Raina.

“Don’t forget, even though we evaluate you individually, you have to work together in teams to succeed the simulation. Any questions?”

“What is the simulation about exactly?”

“I can’t tell you, sorry. It would change your natural reactions and the results of our research would be false.”

Yoongi sighed.

“We already know that but...”

“I’m afraid I can’t help you. There’s nothing more in the database that you can have access to,” the computer interrupted his protest in a calm, soothing voice but it couldn’t ease neither of them. Jimin’s jaw clenched as he watched the whole situation unfold, the still picture of the video of them on the screens.

“Great.”

“Can I help you with anything else?” the strangely real voice asked nicely and the IT guy didn’t even have to think about the next question.

“What’s happening in the city?”

“The main computer is shutting down the sectors one by one. But you have already known this, didn’t you, Min Yoongi? You graduated Computer Science on the top of your class a year ahead-”

“Enough,” said boy hissed and Jimin had to admit: it was scary, that this computer knew so much about them. It must have been in their files for the application but still… What else did it know? Did it have access to their social media, too? Because fuck, then he was screwed.

“Shutting down… Have a lovely day in Choego, Min Yoongi and Park Jimin!” the computer said goodbye because it interpreted Yoongi’s earlier harsh word as an order and just as he wanted to make it more clear (Hey, wait…!), the monitors’ screens changed to live video footage of different parts of the hospital. Currently it showed the others heading towards the eastern wing of the experimental labs in the basement.

“Shit.”

“What? What’s happening?” Jimin leaned closer confused because he didn’t see anything wrong. Yoongi typed on the computer so fast he could barely follow with his eyes.

“The lab room, they are going towards for god knows why, is specially guarded. It has some messed up defence system if they don’t have the right authorization,” Yoongi whispered and the chaebol couldn’t decide what was the scarier: the flashing red exclamation mark on a certain part of the screen or the tremble in the usually collected older guy’s voice. “We need to warn them.”

[schizo-spoon-blog]

Anglo-Saxonism Is Racist, Says Person of Color

Like every girl who is surrounded by drama despite being so "chill," Mary Rambaran-Olm hates drama.

On a society dedicated to studying medieval Anglo-Saxon history, and it's name "International Society of Anglo-Saxonists:"

"The name change encapsulates a much larger issue of how medieval studies must wrestle with its own disciplinary history of racism and its connections to whiteness,” Wade said. “When something as small as changing an organization’s name generates this kind of pushback, that suggests how entrenched these hierarchies are.”

“When something as small as changing an organization’s name generates this kind of pushback, that suggests how entrenched these hierarchies are.”

Changing one's long-standing name, an essential component of its brand and the reputation around it, is not a small deal. It highlights your own narcissism to make it sound like a small thing and only a totally unreasonable person would disagree with your position on it. Should we rename Alabama because Alabama has been associated with Jim Crow? I don't know, sounds petty and fucking stupid. Ah, but they did rename the organization at the end of the day. And they went on to say:

"We apologize to our colleagues of color who have experienced the name of our society as just one of many microaggressions they have faced in academia."

Your colleagues of color should spit on you and ask you to polish their shoes, and you should bow your head, and say "Yes massa," and do it, with a happy little whistle and a big old smile on your face -- you're bitch-made. You'd do it too, and say "Thank you," when you're done. You deserve that sort of treatment, because this sort of statement is not respectable. The only reason you're being whipped like this, being bullied to have your institution re-arranged or else be libeled with Thought Criminal accusations, is because you encourage it, weak masochistic weirdos.

"The discipline of English medieval studies — which is overwhelmingly white — focuses on literature, art and culture produced between roughly A.D. 500 and 1500 in England."

Jee, I wonder why the study of English history would be overwhelmingly white. Is the study of Hindu history overwhelming Indian? Is the study of Islam overwhelmingly Muslim? Is the study of the Ming Dynasty overwhelmingly Chinese? Is the study of the Langues d'Oil overwhelmingly fucking French? My God, the study of Igloo engineering is overwhelmingly Eskimo. Is it weird that only Ukrainians seem to give a fuck about Ukrainian epic poetry?

Why is this being pointed out like it's a problem? It'd be weird if it wasn't "overwhelmingly white." Why does the Washington Post feel the need to point it out, and why should we have a problem with this? Breaking News: Bible Studies are overwhelmingly Christian. That tells you A Lot about how Entrenched the Hierarchies Are.

"“The entire field of medieval studies is undergoing massive upheaval because they have not dealt with long-standing issues of racism and sexism,” Joy said. “This name change controversy is sowing the fault lines that still exist between white scholars — because it’s all white people, a bunch of white people arguing over whether they’re racist.”

Stop arguing, white people. You're all racist (and sexist, apparently, too - for some reason only white people are sexist, despite the horror stories you hear about women's treatment in the Global South). By the way, never, ever, dare interrogate racial perceptions of people of color with a critical eye. If they are prejudiced, it's always justified, and you're a racist for drawing an equivalency.

"White supremacists have recently sought to revive this period of history as proof of white racial superiority, pointing in part to the era’s literary achievements as evidence that white society was far ahead of other cultures, according to Wade. They also see it as a time “of pure masculinity, some sort of warrior culture where men could be men,” Wade said."

Yeah, and did you know, Mongolian nationalists still seek to revive the Mongolian empire as proof of Mongol racial superiority, pointing out to that era's conquests as evidence that Mongol society is far ahead of other cultures? They see the time when the Mongol hordes murdered people by the millions as a sort of warrior culture where men could be men. Mongolia is cancelled I guess. The term Mongol is associated with pillaging, raiding, rape, violence, genocide and domination by foreign people -- isn't it? ---- Isn't it? Maybe we can interrogate this further, surely this isn't a unique quality just among Anglo-Saxons and Mongols.

"The false historical narrative that white people — in particular, Anglo Saxon people — were the only race to produce worthwhile literature, art and scientific discoveries during the Middle Ages took root when “professional medieval studies” launched in Britain in the late 1700s, according to Wade."

No way, chauvinistic attitudes regarding one's own national achievements? Oh surely a crime unique to white people and not a universal tendency amongst all nations.

“This field … it’s just incredibly self-satisfied, smug, elitist, white and male,” Joy said."

Self-satisfied, smug, elitist -- these are valid things on which to attack an institution. But they feel the need to add, "white and male."

If it was self-satisfied, smug, elitist, black, and female, this would be preferable? Or how about East-Asian and male, is that better or worse?

Check this out: the city of Gary, Indiana, is dilapidated, crime-ridden, god-forsaken hell hole. This is all true, unfortunately. Now check this out: the city of Gary, Indiana, is dilapidated, crime-ridden, god-forsaken hell hole, and it's full of Black People. Kinda changes the meaning of what you're saying quite a bit, huh? It's what they call "saying the quiet part out loud." When you wonder why people are throwing race IQ and race crime statistics at you more and more often - it's because you keep saying stupid-ass shit like this. Do you want more racism, or less racism? You can't seem decide. Why are we having all these calls for self-criticism and self-reflection by people who don't really evidence much capacity for the same?

Oh jeez, I'm so sorry Ma'am Of Color, I'm too white and male, please, please, have my job, take my paycheck, live in my house, oh I'm so sorry for being English and interested in English medieval history, oh, so terribly sorry, how could I be so thoughtless, I should make room for strong Uzbek women to... uhh.... read Beowulf.

"ISAS’s vote this week hasn’t changed Rambaran-Olm’s mind. She has no wish to rejoin the group, she said, no matter what it’s called."

Yeah -- and the end of the day, even if you acquiesce to the demands of your critics, it doesn't actually aid your perceptions. You just publicly disavowed your own organization, called it racist, and said you're sorry for mistreating minorities. Do you know what you just did? You just answered "Do you still beat your wife?" with a "No." You didn't do a damn thing to improve conditions for people of color. You just admitted you're a racist, white supremacist institution who has harmed them. Nobody should respect you, because you don't respect yourself with clown-ass behavior like this.

Look, if you keep saying stuff like, "It's all white people," don't be surprised when you see even more racists, instead of fewer. If you keep your hyper-critical focus specifically on "whiteness" you will not eliminate "whiteness" but generate more and more of it. You're holding a hammer and everything looks like a nail. God one day I will join some Caucasian Historical Society and demand that we change the name of the mountain chain where they live, because the word "Caucasian" has been associated with white supremacy. And then I'll bring up Stalin's "fascist collaborationist" charges against them if they dare resist my reasonable demands.

The only correct answer to these criticism and allegations is

"Shut up retard." https://www.washingtonpost.com/education/2019/09/19/its-all-white-people-allegations-white-supremacy-are-tearing-apart-prestigious-medieval-studies-group/?fbclid=IwAR1SCcAIb8g04NFHXnZeb0--_F9xlNENd2H2kX8DjtsTQ9EWZ1VlwmCnojw

[kyndaris]

Unseen

I actually posted this first on my FictionPress account. It’s another short story that got a little out of hand but I thought it helped encapsulate the feeling of being overlooked in the busy lives that we lead. Even more difficult was trying to make the language more ‘Americanized’ than I was used to. Here’s hoping I succeeded.

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When I was young, I discovered I had a magic power. This was just after I had entered middle school and everyone had learned about puberty. It was a strange time, sprinkled with talks from teachers about the physical changes that we were expected to go through. From unwanted hair to monthly bleeds to a sizable development in the chest area. That, coupled with hormones and the outbreak of acne, was the general 'teenager' experience with its mixture of angst, confusion and rebellion.

But none of that mattered to me.

I mean, why would it when I could make myself invisible?

For years, I enjoyed the freedom that this power gave me. While others began to excel academically or at sports, I was far too busy trying to concoct the latest pranks. My marks had never been the best and while I could, perhaps toss a ball around if called upon, I was not one to put my hand up for anything competitive. I had seen the injuries sported by some of my friends when they had tried out for football and baseball.

No. My mission in life was to have fun and to annoy the living hell out of those around me. And I was good at it. The best even.

Only once was I caught. Mom was called in. Frazzled from a shift at the diner, her hair still in a messy bun, she had timidly knocked at the entrance when she arrived. I was pouting, desperately trying to mount up a feasible defense that would see mom take my side.

I was fourteen. Desperate, a little, for approval. With mom being so busy and my little sister just starting school, it had been a difficult year. And while I was enjoying my newfound ability, I was also grappling with hormones and mood swings. The one advantage I had over my peers was that I could make it all go away. Whether it was directing my invincibility to only certain parts of my body. Or simply disappearing altogether and finding a quiet place to clear my head of the mountain of thoughts.

The principal, a man of many years, judging from his balding pate the crow's feet at his eyes, had first tried to cajole my mom into enrolling me into one of those fancy boarding schools for troubled children. Over the years, I had made a name for myself as a rabble-rouser. A common disruption in class. And occasional truant.

It was also a well-known fact among the faculty that I had a hand in the mischief that had spoiled the opening night of the Christmas Play the year before. While they could not provide any concrete proof, I had put myself in their sights and any wrongdoing I did – no matter how minute – was scrutinized.

Mom was skeptical.

Of course, she had every right to be. As a single mother with two young daughters, there was hardly any money to purchase new shoes, let alone afford the fees for a private boarding school.

In the end, she chose to keep me in a public school. Though I was 'gifted' individual, she thought it best that I remain with my friends. Familiarity would ground me. That had been her key argument with the principal that day. In her eyes, whatever talents I possessed would flourish regardless of which institution I was in. Besides, there was no telling what I might do if in some boarding school halfway across the country. No. Better to keep me close at hand.

Knowing defeat, the principal relented and gave me a three-day suspension. Mom wasn't pleased. The entire walk to the car was made in complete silence. Nor did she look at me. Even the drive home was heavy with disappointment. When I tried to give my side of the story, she would interrupt with a sigh.

It was the first time that I felt truly and completely alone. Unseen and unheard.

                                                             --

In the summer just before high school, mom met someone. He was an investment banker that wanted more beyond the small town that we lived. Beguiled, perhaps, by his honeyed words, we packed up and moved to Connecticut. By then, I had met him numerous times and he was all but incorporated himself into our family dynamics. Both my sister and mom were enamored.

Mom, because she had a new man. And my sister, because we now had a new dad. One who doted upon her every wish. Only I was a little hesitant about this stranger in our house. Still, if he made mom happy and our lives a little easier, I could live with it.

Besides, it had been a good twelve years since dad had left us for his new family and he had never bothered with child support.

Perhaps I should have seen the signs then but at the time I was starting in a new school without any of my old friends. Having grown out of being the class clown, I was a little unsure of how to ingratiate myself into this new environment where I knew no-one. My grades had never been the best and I was decidedly average when it came to P.E. Nor was I talented at the creative arts.

The only thing special about me was my power of invisibility. But entering high school, I found out that having it was more of a liability than a gift. People were less amazed and more bemused. Everyone had seen it all before. And it didn't help that there were others who also had it attending my school.

I had to redefine who I was. Fast.

In those four years of high school, I was as like a social chameleon as I tried to befriend the numerous clichés. One week I would dye my hair black. The next, I would be trying my hand at a musical instrument. A third week and I would be in the library, desperately looking up a slew of made-up words that I had never heard of before.

Each day, I would come home exhausted. Mom was so busy that she didn't care how late I returned. Besides, with my abilities, there was no telling if I had come home early and had simply refused to leave the bed. Invisibility was both a blessing and a curse.

I often thought that was why Artemis never tried to reach out to me. She knew that I was struggling and had thought not to burden me with all her troubles. Artemis had always been thoughtful like that. And that had been her greatest power. The kindness, patience and resilience she had brought to our dysfunctional family.

                                                          --

When I finally graduated and applied for college, our finances were in the black. With his income, our stepdad could afford to send us to a decent university. It might not have been Ivy League, but it was enough to give me the peace of mind to experiment and try different things. Besides, while I had participated in a range of extracurricular activities, I had never stayed long enough in any of the clubs to positively contribute and my grades were scattershot, at best.

Still, I was able to make the best of it and moved onto campus. It was a day of heartache and exhilaration. We had moved so much but this was the first time I would be 'leaving the nest,' so to speak.

Everything was so new and I felt like I was out of my depth when I found my dorm room and settled myself in.

My roommate was a girl named Lauren. She was only four foot eleven but she could demolish three full servings of steak and could drink a sailor under the table. Lauren, though, was one of those rare honor students. She had a plan already set out before her and woe betide anyone that stood in her way.

Work hard. Play hard.

It had been her motto since the day she was born. Or so she told me.

I liked her from the start but our conflicting schedules meant that I hardly saw her even though we shared a dorm room. On the rare occasion that we both had an afternoon or a morning together, Lauren and I would take our time to explore every nook and cranny on campus. It took a couple of months but we managed to narrow down the café that served the best coffee, as well as an excellent corner in the library where we could stream the latest television shows while we pretended to study our incredibly expensive textbooks.

All of that changed, though, when I received a call from my mum just halfway through term.

Artemis was dead. She had hanged herself yesterday, using one of the beams in the house, some hemp rope that she had bought just for that purpose and a ladder. The funeral was slated for next week. The timing was bad, she knew. What with exams and assignments piling up. Would I be able to attend?

It was an impossible request. Despite my best efforts, each and every lecturer refused to give me the time I needed to go home.

Somehow or other, though, I managed to make the funeral – albeit after all the eulogies and when her body had already been consigned to the flames of the crematorium. It had not been an easy journey. Had it not been for Lauren's cooperation and my own special ability, I might not have been able to achieve even that.

The staff at the university knew about my unique condition. Of how I could turn invisible at the drop of a hat. Back in those early days, I had occasionally suffered bouts where I would remain unseen and unheard for at least a couple of days. For quite some time, I had not used my power and initially, I had thought that my inability to control it as a had during childhood had come from neglect. It had been an easy thing for Lauren to give them excuses and assist, on occasion with the delivery of my essays to the appropriate faculty (which I had to send to her via email even as I snuck on two Greyhound buses just so I could reach home).

I don't remember much of what happened that day or the two days afterwards when I prepared to head back to college. All the memories in my head were like small fleeting snippets. There was a brief argument with mom. During dinner, I threw a glare towards my stepdad when he tried to offer his condolences. Me walking into her room, right before bed, and trying to picture the way she smiled and would look up at me.

But, always, my mind would go to her last moments and I would wonder what had pushed my perfect sister – the youngest and favoured daughter in our household to do what she did. Back in my old room, I slept terribly. Haunted by nightmares that I could never quite recall.

Even when I was finally back on the bus, headed back to college and the ire of my teachers, I struggled to find a rational explanation for why Artemis did what she did. The perfect world I had constructed was slowly beginning to crumble.

It was only during the start of my sophomore year that I finally came to know the reason behind Artemis's suicide. All of it came tumbling out during the messy divorce between my mom and stepdad. Buoyed, perhaps, by having a man in the house with a stable income, mom went back to school to finish the degree that she never completed when pregnant with me. Once all that was done, she successfully landed the job of her dreams.

With all her success urging her on to better things, she was blind to what was happening at home. Her absence provided an opportunity for the predator lurking amongst us. And Artemis being Artemis…well, she kept her lips sealed. Far too terrified to reveal that he had been touching her and ashamed to admit that it had happened.

For years she had silently endured until finally, in her senior year of high school, it had been too much.

I should have been there for me. And I hated that I turned a blind eye to so many of the signs. From the bruises on her upper arm to the way the light had faded from her eyes.

At college, my grades began to fall. I started heading out to frat houses and clubs located close to campus. Just so that I could numb myself to the pain that was tearing me up inside.

It was then that I made my worst mistake. His name was Stephen.

Initially, it had been innocent enough. We met during a class we shared. I thought he was a nice enough and it didn't hurt that he was quite pleasing on the eyes. Stephen was intelligent too and always with his head in a philosophy book or another. Descartes, Socrates, Nietzsche. He had read them all. He could even hold a conversation beyond questioning whether or not we were stuck in the Matrix.

Ever so slowly, I fell for his charm. When he invited me to a house party right after the exam period, I agreed readily.

We danced. We flirted. And then we began to kiss. Flush with alcohol, we stumbled upstairs to find a spare bedroom that was free. But when he started to touch me down there, my mind went back to Artemis. I told him to stop. Yet, he didn't listen.

It wasn't until I was trying to claw out his eyes that he wrestled my arms away and kept me pressed down with his weight. That was when my power triggered. Had I not been able to turn invisible and began shrieking for help, I'm not entirely sure what might have happened that night.

Days afterwards, I still felt violated. It felt as if I had lost a key part of myself.

I think that was when my problems with my power began, although I did not quite notice until halfway through my third year. The fact that my hand had turned transparent without any conscious thought on my part was terrifying. And I couldn't bring it back. That was the worst of it. If I had known…

                                                             --

"Are you still typing?" said a voice close to my ear. It was one I knew intimately and as its owner sidled up close and kissed me sensually against my cheek, I leaned back into his warm embrace. "Won't you come into bed? It's late and I'm feeling a little lonely."

"Just one more paragraph," I said. "Please, Connor? Just one more. This is important."

He nuzzled against me. "Come on, Persephone. Your story can wait. It isn't going to disappear. At least, if you save it."

I reluctantly turned away from the Word document on my laptop and looked up at Connor. He had a point. I had been at it for most of the day. The words did not come easy and it was a struggle just to get them out. Always, I'd find something to distract me after I had written a few paragraphs. Then I'd go back and delete it all before rewriting it again. For two hours, I had followed the exact same formula until I finally decided enough was enough and moved on.

Besides, the prospect of bed sounded good. And Connor was always good to me. He understood me, having suffered through the exact same thing I was now experiencing. Yet he had recovered from fading away. With each passing day, he seemed to become more whole. Whereas I had come to a standstill.

Every morning I would take a look in the mirror and be dismayed that I still appeared ethereal. It didn't help that it was an effort just to have myself heard in my current office job.

To say that I was envious was an understatement.

"Oh, all right," I conceded, hitting both the ctrl button and 's'. Just to be safe, I moved a finger along the touch pad and clicked on the floppy disc shaped icon in the top left. I shut the laptop. "There."

"So, what were you actually writing about?" asked Connor as I stumbled around the bed and finally sidled in beside him.

"My—our story. Doctor Gibson said it was best that I put all my feelings down and see what happens. She said it might help."

He frowned. "Do you really think a psychiatrist like her is going to help understand the intricacies of being gifted, Persephone? She's never had to deal with what we've gone through."

I reached out for his hand and gave it a tight squeeze. The sharp contrast between his tanned skin and my transparency was a stark reminder that all my efforts had, as yet, been for naught. Doctor Gibson had been one of my more recent endeavors to find a solution the problem that still hung over my head. "It's a long shot, I know. But let's give it a month or two before calling it quits, all right?"

Connor didn't like it. He hadn't much liked anything I had done over the last six months to build up my confidence and independence when my condition had partially stabilized after it had nosedived earlier that year. It was as if he feared that if I got better, I would leave him. The thought, in itself, was ludicrous and I wanted to tell him that. Yet, whenever our conversation veered into dangerous waters, he would steer it back towards the safety of land.

And so, instead of agreeing, he pulled me close – enticing me with the promises he had made earlier that night. It was an effective tactic. Before too long, I was swept up by his fervor with the only thought in my head focused on how best to reach that peak again and again.

                                                            --

When I woke up, Connor was gone. His side of the bed was cold. There wasn't even a hint of warmth to indicate that he had been beside me all night. And though I knew he always had an early shift on Mondays, that didn't ease the pang I felt in my heart as I set about getting ready for the day.

Padding into the kitchen, I found a box of cereal on the counter top along with a carton of milk. In the sink was the bowl he had used as well as a mug stained brown with coffee. I ignored my immediate impulse to clean it all up. At the very least, I would delay it until I had my own breakfast.

I grabbed a bagel from the pantry and cut it in half. The two sides were soon quickly smothered in cream and jelly. I delicately placed them on a spare plate and took it with me to the living room. If Connor had been home, he would have disapproved. Though I never quite understood why, he liked to keep each activity relegated to their 'appropriate area.' Food was meant to remain in the kitchen or eaten in the dining room. The living room was meant to entertain guests. To bring a chicken wing, lathered heavily in barbeque sauce would have been blasphemy. Even a biscuit would see his gaze fixed upon each and every crumb that dropped.

"How are you going to remove the stains? Do you know how much it would cost? For God's sake, Persephone, are you even listening to me?"

Without him hovering over my shoulder, I settled down on the sofa and turned on the television. I ate my breakfast with Good Morning America for company.

Some might say it was a little lonely but with no plans for the day, I savored it. Besides, today was my day off. I didn't think it was necessary but Connor encouraged me to do it when my condition had worsened. He said it would be of benefit to my own mental health and I reluctantly conceded the point when I started vanishing before the eyes of my co-workers during an important stakeholder meeting.

I gratefully accepted. By that stage, I was hanging on by a thread and having variable hours meant I could see a specialist without feeling the guilt associated with using up all my sick leave. Still, it had stung to be relegated to part-time work and at first, I floundered with all the additional time I had on my hands. Taking up a hobby that I enjoyed helped alleviate some of that tension and also helped push me back on the path of recovery.

It was nine when I padded back to the kitchen and put my plate into the sink. It would only take me a couple of minutes to wash all the dishes but I decided to put it off until I had finished my daily ablutions. I retreated to the bathroom, picked up my toothbrush and squeezed some paste onto it.

Brushing your teeth while being almost ethereal in appearance was a difficult endeavor. When I was younger, I'd often imagine myself as a vampire. Back then, it was a game. Nowadays, I could barely look at my reflection in the mirror. Today, fortunately, was a good day. But there had been times when my features were so indistinct that I forgot what I even looked like. Was my hair long or short? What color was it? Were my eyes brown or did they border on hazel? Maybe they were blue and I had been deceiving myself for my entire life.

Without being able to see what I looked like it was easy to allow the doubts to creep in. To feel that the most essentials parts that contributed to who I was were being stripped away.

Fuck. When did life become so hard? Why couldn't I get through a single day without feeling as if life would be better if I simply faded away.

I set my brush down and took in several deep breaths. What did Doctor Gibson always say at our sessions? To trust in myself? To give myself purpose and screw what other people thought? No. That didn't seem right. She had always been one to preach about checking my self-doubt at the door. To reinforce all my positive attributes rather than dwelling on my regrets and the bad things. Positivity rather than negativity.

She had said I should try turn the way I thought upside down. There were no tries. I simply had to do.

Yes. That was it.

I could do this. I had to do this. Steadying myself against the porcelain, I stared at my reflection and willed color back to my cheeks. Invisibility was my power and I controlled how much I wanted to use.

Once I was satisfied that I would not be vanishing any time soon, I washed my face and headed back to the kitchen where I cleaned the dishes. Knowing that all my immediate chores had been completed, I finally returned to the bedroom where my laptop sat on top of a low waist-high cabinet.

Prying it back open, I stared at where I had left off the night before – rereading the last few paragraphs before I resumed typing out the last few years before I had met Connor.

                                                             --

So enthralled in my little project, I did not notice time pass until the bedroom door opened and Connor stood standing in the entrance, the expression on his face a mixture of outrage and annoyance.

"Did you not hear me come in, Persephone?" he asked, voice low and dangerous. "How about when I called for you the last thirty goddamn times?"

I shrank back, glancing briefly at the time displayed in the lower right-hand corner of the screen. 6:30PM. Shit. Where had the time gone? "I'm sorry C-Connor," I stuttered. Though he had never once struck me before I could see that he was trembling. "I-I-I was writing. I had some music playing. Jesus, y-you know how I lost track of things when I'm e-engrossed with something. B-but give me thirty minutes. Please. I'll have dinner ready and waiting."

"That's not good enough!" Each word was punctuated with an increase in volume. I couldn't help it. I shied away. Instead of calming it down, my fear only made him angrier. He stalked towards me. "When I come home, I expect my girlfriend to greet me at the door. I would have preferred if you had called out. Instead of having to look for you and wondering if you had abandoned me. Funny thing is, I should have known you would be in here. Tip tap typing away on your stupid laptop. Thinking that just by writing down a few words, it'll make you feel better and maybe stop you from becoming unseen."

His words were like daggers, cutting at all my vulnerabilities. "Stop it," I pleaded.

"Well, news flash Persephone: it doesn't! Guess the jokes on you."

There were tears in my eyes and I was finding it hard to breathe. The months I had spent trying to reconstruct my fragile psyche were swept away and I was once more cast adrift. I covered my ears with my hands – hoping to drown out the vitriol.

I knew Connor loved me. Today had simply not been a good day for him. I should have known that. I should have been the dutiful girlfriend. God. What was wrong with me?

"Stop Connor. Please stop."

"No Persephone. I don't think I will. We need to talk about us. We need to talk about how you never give a damn about me. Even when I've slaved all day trying to put bread on the table! You're an ungrateful bitch, freeloading off my love and devotion to you. What's wrong with you, Persephone? Why can't you even do the simplest thing?"

"I-I don't…" Misery and fear threatened to overwhelm me. I felt so small, so insignificant. That nothing I did would ever amount to anything. Connor was right. He was always right. And I should have been grateful for everything he had done for me.

But it was all too much. For the first time, my thoughts went into a dark scary place that I'm sure Artemis had frequented all throughout high school.

It happened so quick. I only realized what I had done when Connor's eyes widened and he immediately backed towards the exit. His eyes darted around the room. "Persephone! This isn't funny. You turn visible right now, you hear me?"

I said not a word. I couldn't. My voice was gone as well and I could only sit morosely at my desk – ashamed and afraid of what would happen next.

"Persephone, I'm going to count to five. If you don't turn visible, I swear to God I'm walking out the door and throwing away the key. You'll be nothing to me, Persephone. Just like how you're nothing to your mom. You know that, right? She never loved you as much as Artemis. The only person who loves you is me but I'll take it back if you keep this on any further."

Why did he always have to reveal my secrets and use them against me? Connor knew which buttons to press and exactly how much he ought to prod. Even though I loved him, I also hated how he always held these things over my head.

Sadness turned to anger. Why was I always the enemy? I had proved time and time again my loyalty to Connor and our relationship. Yet without my voice, without even the ability to be seen, I knew that this could not be easily communicated. I wanted to scream and shout. Fight tooth and nail as I railed against my fate as one of the Unseen. But if I wanted to regain my appearance, I needed time to think. To calm down and be rational. Connor would only use my outbursts against me.

I glanced towards the bathroom door. There was only one way I would be able to find the solace I sought.

In the end, it was easier than I had thought.

As Connor was on the cusp of making it to five, I hopped over the bed and ran towards the bathroom. I slammed the door and ducked to the side as Connor raced towards me – thinking that I had sequestered myself inside. He banged futilely – never thinking to simply turn the knob – and demanded that I let him in. To console, to berate. God only knows what went through his mind.

Free for the first time, I slipped from the bedroom and out the front door. Stopping only briefly to pick up my laptop and a change of underwear before I left the apartment.

                                                              --

Somehow or other, I found myself outside Doctor Gibson's office close to nine. The lights were still on so I made my way up the stairs. As I stepped up to the door, ready to knock, I thought I could hear voices. Daunted by meeting another of her patients, I went back to the stairwell and made myself comfortable a flight down where I could see who might have had a such a late-night session with the good psychiatrist.

A couple minutes passed and the door creaked open. Out stepped a mess of a man. His cheeks were sunken and it seemed as if he had not shaved in weeks. There were dark bags under his eyes and when he walked past my hiding spot, I caught a whiff of stale whiskey on his breath.

"David! For God's sake David, you can't run from this."

I looked up in time to see Doctor Gibson slipping on a coat as she hurried out the door. The man ignored her, his pace quickening as he took the steps two at a time. Seeing my opportunity, I clambered to my feet and caught the door before it closed.

In her haste, she had left the light on.

I navigated my way down the hallway to the familiar couch where I had spent a couple hours each week trying to find the answers to my condition. The cushions were strewn on the floor and a blanket lay crumpled at one end. Atop the coffee table were water stains, clearly visible on the glass. Maybe David had been staying here. Or perhaps it had been the leftovers from another session with the good Doctor Gibson.

What frustrated me the most, though, was that even though I was now here in the sanctity of Doctor Gibson's abode, I could not make myself visible. Try as I might, I was able to be seen.

The best I could do was blur the edges and give myself a faint outline. Was this it? Was this how I faded into obscurity? Forgotten? Unloved?

I don't know how long I stood there, waiting for Doctor Gibson to return. Trapped in that spiral, it could have easily been thirty minutes or a day. All I could focus on was the rising panic and the all-encompassing fear that came with it. I was only pulled from my thoughts when the door slammed shut and I heard a strangled sob of frustration behind me.

Perhaps she had a sixth sense or maybe she heard me as I whirled around but almost immediately, I saw Doctor Gibson transform from weary and vulnerable to guarded and wary. "Who's there?" she called out. "I know someone's here. And if you're an Unseen trying to bugle me, well, there' not much you can take."

When I tried to speak, to reassure Doctor Gibson that I meant no harm, silence emerged from my lips. Caught between a mixture of dismay and fear, I clutched at my throat as I stumbled forward. Maybe she could feel me. Surely, she would notice if I made physical contact.

I still existed. I was still rooted in the world. Only my appearance and voice had been taken from me. Right?

She fell backwards when I wrapped my arms around her in a hug – desperate to feel wanted and loved and here. In my haste to save her, I banged my leg against the edge of the coffee table. "Damnit," I swore, trying to assess if I had suffered any damage. It didn't seem like I'd hurt myself but it was hard when even your own blood was invisible.

"Is that you, Persephone? I know that you told me that your powers were unstable," she said after a lengthy silence, "but I would never have guessed that it was this bad. Talk to me, Persephone. I'm here."

A smile threatened to tear my face in two. She had recognized my voice. She knew who I was. Perhaps it was this thought that broke through the barrier preventing me from becoming visible. It was only when Doctor Gibson began to stroke my back and dabbed at my tears that I realized that I must have returned. Or had, at the very least, resumed a faded outline or appearance.

My suspicions were confirmed when she took me into the restroom and I looked at my reflection in the mirror. Much of my color was missing but no-one could overlook the faint fuzziness that indicated my presence in the world.

It was nearly midnight when we settled back on the couch. Doctor Gibson looked worn out and weary as she handed me a cup of chamomile tea. We didn't talk much that night. She needed to head back home, but I was welcome to stay the night at the office to collect my bearings and make some decisions. When I handed over my laptop, with my story sequestered in a 30kb word document, Doctor Gibson slipped it into her bag and promised to read it when she had the chance.

We parted at one in the morning. I walked her down to the street before retreating back to her office where I had made a comfortable bed on the couch. Sleep eluded me as I ran through everything that had happened that day. Memories and thoughts would flash through my mind – demanding my attention.

I must have fallen asleep sometime between three or four, because when I next opened my eyes, Doctor Gibson was seated in her armchair, pouring over what I had written over the past week as per the assignment she gave me. Mouth dry and eyes crusted with rheum, it took me a while to understand where exactly I was.

I'm ashamed to admit that panic was my first instinct and I immediately tried calling out for Connor, confused at waking up in an unfamiliar environment.

Doctor Gibson, patient and understanding, was quick to allay any fears I had. Within the half hour, I had recollected myself and was gorging myself on a bagel slathered with cream cheese. She had also brewed up a batch of coffee. And though it was black, the first sip tasted a little like heaven as I was returned to the land of the living.

"This may be a little forward of me to ask, Persephone, but in all our talks together you never mentioned you had a sister," said Doctor Gibson when I had finished breakfast and had just returned from the kitchen. "In fact, it seems as if a lot of your present issues with your gift seems to stem from a place of guilt."

"Well, shouldn't I have been a little more aware? If I had known…if I had stopped it, perhaps Artemis would still be here," I replied warily, saying the first things that came to mind. Talking about what had happened in those frantic months at college had always been difficult. Particularly when mom had slowly begun to withdraw from our interactions. I had always known she loved my younger sister best.

She nodded. "That's an understandable emotion to feel."

"What are you getting at?" I asked, unsure where this conversation might be headed towards. All I knew was that there was tingling down my spine and not the good kind.

"Why don't you sit down," Doctor Gibson said gently. From her tone, it was not a simple request. "This is a bit earlier than our weekly sessions, but considering the circumstances that brought you to my door last night, I warrant that there are things we need to discuss."

I didn't quite know how to respond to that. A part of me was scared. It wanted to turn invisible and run away. But a stronger part, the one that was sick and tired of feeling trapped stopped me from giving in. It was this part that sat me down opposite Doctor Gibson and look her dead in the eye as I waited for the guillotine to fall.

"From what I've read so far, I can see that you feel responsible for what happened to Artemis. In the years since, you've pushed everyone away. And all the failed relationships you've been in, the men you've dated – all of it is some twisted sort of penance. You want to punish yourself, Persephone."

Laughter burst through my lips. "Really, Doc? Is that the best you got? I'll admit that I haven't made the wisest choices but that was because my power made it impossible. One day I'd be me and then the next, I was gone. Faded from sight. As if I didn't exist. As if I never existed. Do you know how that feels like? To have all your efforts gone unacknowledged by those around you. To be ignored and treated as little more than the air someone else breathes?

"Connor was the one that helped stabilize me. He saw me. Because he knew what it meant to be unseen. To be cursed with this ability and not know how to control it."

"Yet, here you are. With me," observed Doctor Gibson. "Why is that, Persephone? If Connor sees you, where is he now? What happened last night?"

"I—we…we had a fight," I admitted. "But that doesn't negate the fact that he's always been there for me."

Doctor Gibson leaned in close. "What did you fight about, Persephone? Was it the fact you were distracted? Or did you forget to have everything just the way he liked it? After all our sessions together, we've hardly even broached the topic about your relationship. Whenever we do, you're quick to change the subject. Is it because he frightens you? Or is he one of the underlying reasons behind why you can't control your powers?"

Each question was a direct blow against the fragile wall I had constructed around my psyche. For months I had tried to play pretend. For months, I had written off Connor's behavior and given him excuses.

If I was going to be honest with myself, though, I needed to realize that being with Connor did not make me happy. I hated how he always treated me as if I was made of porcelain. Or that I was incredibly naive.

In fact, so many of his actions only served to undermine my individuality and my autonomy. Ever since we had met, he had tried to strip away my self-confidence to boost his own ego. And I, feeling that this was what I deserved after what had happened with Artemis, had allowed it to happen. I had been the accomplice to my own downfall.

Hot tears prickled at the corner of my eyes. I tried to blink them away, but it was useless to stem the tide of emotion that crashed through. Doctor Gibson watched on, a silent witness, her face an impassive mask. I did not know if she considered this a breakthrough or if she was aghast that she had destroyed the very fabric of my tenuous world.

                                                             --

Rebuilding my fractured relationships was a lot easier than I had initially thought. It was still a long and drawn out process with many missteps. For a while, I despaired whether or not any of it would be worth it. But, little by little, I made inroads. They say that a journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step. And that was exactly what happened.

Doctor Gibson continued to help and support me during my momentary lapses. Of course, always with a fee attached. With my new role and growing mastery of my abilities, however, it was a small price to pay.

What I struggled the most with, though, was letting go of my feelings of inadequacy and the guilt that had plagued me for so many years. It didn't help that for several weeks, I still tried to make it work with Connor. He had a way with pushing my buttons to make me feel worse. In the end, there was simply no way for the both of us to be together. Or even live in the same apartment. Not after everything that had happened.

I moved out and continued to work on both my physical fitness and my mental health.

Whether or not it was the right thing to do, I can't say. There were moments when I wondered if I even deserved something better but Doctor Gibson was quick to pull the 'could have, should have, would have' card. There was no telling what might have been and there was little sense on dwelling on the possibilities. What was done was done. The past was immutable and could not be changed.

The future, though, that was unwritten. And I had it within me to chart a different course. To seek atonement rather than wallowing in self-pity.

When I think about everything, though, I know I'm not quite there. Yet I know now that such things take time. There's no instant solution. With my new roommates and Doctor Gibson and quite a few supportive colleagues from work, I felt as if I was finally starting to see the light at the end of a long dark tunnel.

People saw me. Even in my darkest moments. Perhaps I should have reached out earlier. Sought help when I could.

Despite shame and embarrassment holding me back, I still managed to cling onto that last shred of hope. And it was the very thing I needed to claw my way out of an impossible situation.

I write this now for the people that come after. For those that are held back by fear and anxiety.

I see you.

And if I can make it then you can do it too.

[wildfangz]

@liliithvatore tagged me in that simself thing thats been goin around DAYS ago but here it finally is! also thank you for the tag this was fun :-]

I tag @slythersim @thelurgoyf @seoulchii @weicyn @solitasims @daisydezem @raha-plays-the-sims if they want to do it & anyone that just wants to do it in general! message me and I’ll even @ u directly if u want. 

anyway lets DO THIS shitload of questions under the cut u’ve been warned!!!

1. what is your name?

julian

2. what is your nickname?

jewel, jules

3. birthday?

oct 26th

4. what is your favorite book series?

percy jackson and the olympians will probably always own my heart & soul

5. do you believe in aliens or ghosts?

yes & yes. tho i do think a lot of alien sightings and conspiracy theories and what not are bullshit

6. who is your favorite author?

maggie stiefvater probably? also cornelia funke but its been years since ive read anything by her so i cant be sure BUT i loved inkheart & the thief lord so much

7. what is your favorite radio station?

ummm when i listen to the radio at all i kinda just switch between two rock stations and our popular music station.

8. what is your favorite flavor of anything?

blue raspberry !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! tasty and i love a blue tongue

9. what word would you use often to describe something great or wonderful?

cool. or bitchin’.  i play it simple

10. what is your current favorite song?

hands like houses - revive

11. what is your favorite word?

roulette and inhibition which i never get to use either as much as i want !

12. what was the last song you listened to?

emarosa - givin’ up ! its a bop!

13. what tv show would you recommend for everybody to watch?

the new she-ra on netflix its so good. and gay

14. what is your favorite movie to watch when you’re feeling down?

moana. its also like the only movie i dont have trouble getting thru despite how many times ive already seen it

15. do you play video games?

16. what is your biggest fear?

idk... being inherently unlovable i guess n ending up alone? also spiders !

17. what is your best quality, in your opinion?

im fairly open-minded and laid back. Unless someones being like, purposely nasty or something I generally don’t get defensive or aggressive. also a lot of little quirks that piss others off dont bother me im very u do u as long as its not actually harming anyone and ive had people tell me this makes it easier to open up to me so thats probably my best quality....

18. what is your worst quality, in your opinion?

....at the same time though i do get very sensitive when faced w/ criticism even if its of the fair variety when its not phrased really gently for various reasons and i dont like that. especially since I have a tendency to not even talk to people about it. I’ll just immediately start distancing myself. also other than that i think overall I have a really high tolerance lvl but if you cross that line I hold a grudge like a motherfucker

9. do you like cats or dogs better?

cats! dogs are good too but cats are a lot easier for me to handle...and quieter generally but even when they’re loud cat sounds dont get to me quite as much as barks do

20. what is your favorite season?

autumn but im starting to really like summer for some reason? wack :/

21. are you in a relationship?

nope

22. what is something you miss from your childhood?

the lack of responsibility, probably. that sounds real bad lmao but for me its like...I know I’ve grown in various ways over the years but I also feel like so many of my experiences, my trauma, my mental health has held me back and I don’t think I’m mentally where I should be for my age. so all the responsibility of adulthood is just..really overwhelming for me sometimes, even though ive been given a pass from certain aspects of it and the rest is pretty simple its the idea!!!!

23. who is your best friend?

my ex

24. what is your eye color?

25. what is your hair color?

26. who is someone you love?

my mom

27. who is someone you trust?

not really anyone rn unfortunately...would like 2 work on that

28. who is someone you think about often?

are my OCs a fair answer because i am always thinking about my babies.....

29. are you currently excited about/for something?

my favorite webcomic (that also has two of my all time favorite characters in it) just came back!! the artist disappeared back in 2015 like the day after I binge-read the whole fucking thing & i was so disappointed but its BACK and 2018 has been redeemed

30. what is your biggest obsession?

sims probably! i could talk about anything relating to it for hours

31. what was your favorite tv show as a child?

there were so damn many its hard to even think and figure out the most notable ones...i really, really liked teen titans though?

32. who of the opposite gender can you tell anything to, if anyone?

my ex, again

33. are you superstitious?

not terribly so but somewhat. I take certain things as signs and I mean I do believe in astrology & such to a degree

34. do you have any unusual phobias?

i used to be afraid of mirrors but thats all i can think of and its not even a thing anymore...the only other thing is tornadoes but i dont think its unusual. but it definitely sucks for me ‘cause i live in tornado alley!

35. do you prefer to be in front of the camera or behind it?

behind it....like taking pretty pictures and dont like ppl capturing my image 2 film

36. what is your favorite hobby?

sims.....also singing!!! and drawing!!!! video editing!!!!!!!!! the works

37. what was the last book you read?

The Dream Thieves....havent finished it though because last time i went to read it a spider was lying in wait and im traumatized

38. what was the last movie you watched?

coco i think???

39. what musical instruments do you play, if any?

drums, various other percussion instruments, and violin mainly

40. what is your favorite animal?

ferrets!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

41. what are your top 5 favorite tumblr blogs that you follow?

uhhhhh @bratsims @liliithvatore @cabsim @wildlyminiaturesandwich @keysims pls dont feel bad if i didnt include u these were just the first to pop into my head and ive been following some of them since I first made my blog!! and have kept up with their stories completely and enjoy them etc check them OUT !

42. what superpower do you wish you had?

shapeshifting!!! dysphoria? gone. ugliness? gone. want to morph into a fucked up clown and scare people when they realize all the classic clown features are a real actual part of my face? possible!

43. when and where do you feel most at peace?

chillin’ at the pool in summer during the part of the day when no ones there.... swimming is always relaxing 2 me then i love just resting under the sun and drying off afterwards especially since we have a little pond nearby and i can hear the water! its nice

44. what makes you smile?

always and without fail? interacting with anyone i have a crush on. i’ll look like a dope the whole time

45. what sports do you play, if any?

i used 2 play basketball a lot. Like not seriously but it was a thing

46. what is your favorite drink?

dr pepper and monster energy (original flavor) pumps through my veins at this point. we love a carbonated beverage

47. when was the last time you wrote a hand-written letter or note to somebody?

two years ago for my ex and I’s first year anniversary... I never got it mailed but I did at least take a picture of it (with included caption because my handwriting is atrocious). i was very up front about being a romantic and see heres the PROOF

48. are you afraid of heights?

nope! very excited by them actually

49. what is your biggest pet peeve?

i cant stand passive aggressive behavior. my stance is either get over it or quit acting like a bitch because otherwise im just going to ignore you thats the scorpio way (in all seriousness I really, really do recommend not putting up with it and ignoring it until they decide to be up front with you. it can be exhausting constantly reading into conversations and its not healthy for you or them. if they have something to say they need to learn to talk about it properly, and that lack of social skills is not ever on you)

50. have you ever been to a concert?

yep! i think about....six or so? i love them...which is really funny im autistic and EVERYTHING about them should freak me out and they do in other circumstances but at a show i just live for it

51. are you vegan/vegetarian?

nope! ive thought before id like to go vegetarian...but i couldnt do it with my health problems. also i love shrimp too much

52. when you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up?

ive always wanted to do something creative! when i was rlly young I thought a lot about singing and acting and writing in particular...all things im still interested in.... also i wanted to be a dictator ages 4-7 because i told my mom i wanted to be president of the world and make people do what i say and she said “honey thats a dictator not a president”. i then made that known at school and that turned into a situation!

53. what fictional world would you like to live in?

pokemon universe or bust. 

54. what is something you worry about?

never being able to do things i want to do or catching up with others because of my disabilities

55. are you scared of the dark?

yes but a reasonable amount i think

56. do you like to sing?

yes :]

57. have you ever skipped school?

yes i used to play sick a LOT and as my parents caught onto it id even go all out to convince them. i was good at school but i hated it so much

58. what is your favorite place on the planet?

dunno! malls maybe i love shopping and looking at material objects i wish to own

59. where would you like to live?

oregon! portland in particular thats been my dream for a few years now

60. do you have any pets?

a cat! he lives with my dad & grandma though...hes grown up there and likes going outside so I felt bad about taking him with me when i moved out but anyway this is him hes fat and stupid and i love him his name is coffee

61. are you more of an early bird or a night owl?

night owl because my rhythm is all fucked up but in my heart....an early bird...if i get a good nights sleep i’ll be up early yacking your ear off and so excited for the day

62. do you like sunrises or sunsets better?

sunsets are prettier...but sunrises feel more refreshing

63. do you know how to drive?

nope ! im gay !

64. do you prefer earbuds or headphones?

headphones. better sound quality also discourages people from talking to me slightly more

65. have you ever had braces?

nope! but i need them

66. what is your favorite genre of music?

post-hardcore maybe?

67. who is your hero?

every trans person living their truth and being open and loud about who they are past present & future. the worlds not particularly kind to us and our existence alone is considered a radical act, so its always given me hope to see others refusing to pretend to be someone they’re not in this environment and I’ll always have mad respect for that

68. do you read comic books?

i read manga and webcomics...ive always wanted to get into superhero comics but the amount of issues and different versions is ridiculous and makes it inaccessible 2 me 

69. what makes you the most angry?

i mean its hard to pinpoint what makes me angry the MOST...but a contender is definitely how some people feel free to treat others with cruelty and think its their god given right to deny or attack someones existence in some way, & how acts of kindness, even the most basic are branded as liberal bullshit or whatever....it goes against everything i was taught growing up

70. do you prefer to read on an electronic device or with a real book?

real book! electronic device can be easier but....rough on the eyes after a while and nothing beats the real thing for me

71. what was your favorite subject in school?

language arts...at least when we did creative writing stuff

72. do you have any siblings?

two older sisters & an older brother that passed away years ago but. still my brother u kno

73. what was the last thing you bought?

mocha frappe baby!!!!!

74. how tall are you?

5′4″

75. can you cook?

a little bit....not as much as id like to though but im learning

76. what are three things that you love?

storms, cheesy breadsticks, and cat purrs

77. what are three things that you hate?

unnecessary rudeness, being talked down to or generally treated like im stupid, grapefruit which is the worst thing on this list

78. do you have more female friends or more male friends?

female i think?

79. what is your sexual orientation?

im the big bad promiscuous bisexual your parents warned you about

80. where do you currently live?

oklahoma. gofundme campaign to get me out

81. who was the last person you texted?

my friend jojo! just Now!

82. when was the last time you cried?

yesterday afternoon but im a changed man now thats behind me. i will cry about different things soon

83. who is your favorite youtuber?

the mcelroy brothers. also super best friends play. matt, pat & woolie are all great tbh

84. do you like to take selfies?

depends on whether i feel ugly or terribly dysphoric that day or not

85. what is your favorite app?

ummmm....love live school idol festival ive been playin for years its an addiction

86. what is your relationship with your parent(s) like?

dad = bad mom = okay. theres some issues that strain it but its not too bad

87. what is your favorite foreign accent?

i have no idea what the fuck australians are talking about half the time but i dig it anyway 

88. what is a place that you’ve never been to, but you want to visit?

Italy, Greece, Germany, Japan, Mexico, various other states (ive only been out of state three times. twice to texas and then once to kansas. for five minutes)

89. what is your favorite number?

6!! 26 also

90. can you juggle?

ive always wanted to but alas.... :-[

91. are you religious?

i suppose...but im rlly not into organized religion

92. do you find outer space of the deep ocean to be more interesting?

space probably theres so fucking much of it man!

93. do you consider yourself to be a daredevil?

not to brag but sometimes i eat my mcdonalds hamburgers cold from the fridge so you can figure that one out yourself B)

94. are you allergic to anything?

pecans. not deathly allergic though so catch me eating turtle pie anyway! 

95. can you curl your tongue?

nope :[

96. can you wiggle your ears?

nope :[

97. how often do you admit that you were wrong about something?

usually as soon as i realize....unless someones being real smug and annoying then i might be stubborn about it

98. do you prefer the forest or the beach?

ive never been to the beach but i love her!!!

99. what is your favorite piece of advice that anyone has ever given you?

probably that you have to look at your accomplishments differently when you’re disabled or just struggling, to not be so down on yourself because its a fact that what might be a mole hill to someone else is a mountain to you and you have to judge yourself accordingly. Like maybe you weren’t able to clean the whole house, but washing the dishes and tidying your desk doesn’t usually get done but you did it. That that should be celebrated because while it would also feel good if you did more, you still did something and thats great all things considered.

100. are you a good liar?

sometimes, really depends what im lying about and if im like....into it at all. If my guts against it for whatever reason I’ll have trouble

101. what is your hogwarts house?

i always get slytherin or hufflepuff! usually with like 1 point difference

102. do you talk to yourself?

i am talking to myself right now as i fill this out

103. are you an introvert or an extrovert?

extrovert mainly! i used to think i was more introverted but now i think a lot of exhaustion when theres any comes from me just going the extra mile and actively trying to read people and pick up on social ques.... if I just chill im fine

104. do you keep a journal/diary?

nope...ive tried but i just cant keep up with it so i do the next best thing. shouting into the void on the internet to a bunch of strangers

105. do you believe in second chances?

depends on what you did the first time. Some people just don’t deserve taking that risk imo...but i can be a little guarded so maybe thats a bit too harsh

106. if you found a wallet full of money on the ground, what would you do?

turn it in, unless there was no identifying things in it & it was found somewhere kinda random. Then I’d maybe hold onto it unless my gut challenged that

107. do you believe that people are capable of change?

absolutely. i mean thats all we do throughout our lives is change and evolve...that being said I think extremely drastic changes are maybe not entirely impossible, but extremely rare, and the residue of the former self usually sticks around in some form

108. are you ticklish?

yes, dangerously so

109. have you ever been on a plane?

nope

110. do you have any piercings?

one day hopefully!

111. what fictional character do you wish was real?

asra from the arcana.....even if he wasn’t my boyfriend thats just a dude u could chill and eat some pomegranates with u know. Before I downloaded the app my friends kept telling me he was made for me and he really was he ticks like everything on my Favorite Characters Feature List except villain but he has that particular allure & attitude i like so much in villains so thats not a single point off hes perfect

112. do you have any tattoos?

nope...one day! hopefully!

113. what is the best decision that you’ve made in your life so far?

accepting my genderqueerness and bisexuality definitely. Self Love hasn’t been perfected just yet but that was such a huge step in the right direction

114. do you believe in karma?

yes! she doesn’t get shit done as much as id like however

115. do you wear glasses or contacts?

glasses. not contacts yet because my eye doctor is a bitch

116. do you want children?

I do....just not sure if id be a good parent. Its really important to me if I had a child itd be for the right reason and I could raise them well in a healthy environment & be able to take care of all their needs yknow

117. who is the smartest person you know?

probably my friend jojo

118. what is your most embarrassing memory?

one time i looked outside and the sunset was really pretty and i wanted to get a photo of it so i walked out.....and stood like right by the street so there weren’t trees in my way...and then i realized mid-pic 1) i am not wearing pants & my shirt is full of holes 2) id been depressed for days so my hair was a tangled mess. I tailed it back inside so i didnt even get a nice pic it was blurry!

119. have you ever pulled an all-nighter?

120. what colour are most of you clothes?

black i didnt even have to think about that one

121. do you like adventures?

they are pretty swell

122. have you ever been on tv?

a few times when i was little. always photobombing the news reporters 4 what i thought would eventually lead 2 fame & fortune

123. how old are you?

21

124. what is your favorite movie quote?

this is technically lyrics to that lil song in moana at the end but

“ They have stolen the heart from inside you. But this does not define you.”

hits me hard every time! emotional impact? i know her

125. sweet or savory?

sweet!!!!!!!! gotta balance out my bitter somehow

[khiphop-discussions]

SMTM777 Ep.2 Commentary

EK is one of my favorites! It's good! Why is everybody in khh name dropping Yoo Jaesuk lately? Yaaaasss King No:el!!! So glad to see you. He wasnt at his full potential in this performance though. Too nervous. OLNL's voice? I've literally heard his rap before but never seen his face. I expected his voice to be more soft and high despite already knowing what he sounds like lol. Why did Milli look down like he had stuff written on his hand when introducing himself lol? Poor Milli. Feeling like Song Minho right now. I know there's the unwritten rule that Swings had to fail Milli straight out the gate but I'd have failed him for those sandals (put your damn feet away!!), saying he has 2 phones: one for business and one for dating/texting his gf, and for saying "everybody but you knows I did something new, like I did with your girlfriend last night" boy RELAX!! LOL Find some chill!! I didn't like his performance tbh but the aforementioned lyrics were cool. And yeah he's right, his rings probably cost more than any clothing I have while I'm out here trying to laugh at his sandals hahaha Awww Nafla felt bad. It's annoying that a bunch of old rappers participated? Who cares? If they good, they good. Worry about yourself. I do think it's a little much to come on more than 3 times but if it's dope I won't complain. If you whack and haven't improved? Now there's a problem. It's my DayDay!!! David Kim, I'll never get annoyed with him coming back on even though his skills are kinda cemented where they are considering his in his 30s now. It's all good. Black Nine should have chosen something different New Champ looked a damn fool. Suoer Bee is legit my favorite performance on the show between these 2 episodes. I'm SERIOUSLY becoming a believer that he might win this. Super Bee's #GROWTH as a rapper and person since SMTM4. Granted, he WAS 21 back then now 24 so of course he did. Wow, so super bee STILL might not even be at his full potentual and THAT is fucking WILD!! I HATE when the producers get all dramatic like THEY aren't the ones who eliminated whoever got eliminated like ?????? You eliminated them? That was terrible. Why is everyone surprised he got eliminated? They only care because it's (allegedly) Mad Clown  If they thought it was a random there wouldn't be all this whining. They'd recognize how trash that performance was and not just cause he couldn't hear the beat. Yeah, y'all BETTER be shook by Chillin Homie! Also, why is New Champ's annoying on like 3 Million? He was chill on SMTM4. Lol he still cool, someone has to bring the personality. Even if it's annoying ti ciewers, contestants, and staff lol MC trying to instigate lol Damn, we got New Champ and Chillin Homie calling out fades? This is the reality I wanted hahaha Owen REALLY thought he had a fucking chance against D.Ark? Like, i know he's fucking stupid but damn. They are better than 95% of the others. And PH-1 too like??? Are y'all stupid? Nobody wanted them BARS with Nafla lil They said....Owen....aims for conscious rap..... He's not even conscious of how stupid he is. The fact he chose to go against these two kids is proof. Lol at "motherfucker" being uncensored Even they know Owen....let me stop. I don't wanna be negative here lol Well, at least he's smart enough to know that they are better than everyone else and that *jessi voice* it's a competition *normal voice*. But he wanted to go home early so bad. Guess he's going home from the whole competition early lol Osshun *sighs* lol Awww New Champ's feelings are hurt you can tell. I gotta be honest. I LOVE when someone picks someone to be a dick and then they lose. I like Chillin Homie though Be nice during battles like this because you get EMBARRASSED when you're rude but you lose. Kim Hyo Eun's braids are better than Reddy's and the other one. I honestly don't know who I'd pick between Reddy and Hyoeun tbh. But i guess Hyo Eun's braids ARE better so maybe it comes down to that lol Third guy was Pento btw Yeah, it came down to the braids lol Well did you vote for Reddy who made the whole stage then Quiett? Or did you vote for your "half a win" employee? Hmmmm I know that 2 out of 3 of them don't make that type of music. So....yeah. that's why it's whack. Luda won. Lol @ Quiett yawning in the middle of a performance hahaha Changstarr what a fucking geek. You could have just said "Oh what a talented DJ and beautiful as well!" Geek.

That kid really just said movie directors the whole verse. Lok It's always the boys with the moles that are cute. Junoflo, now Coogie. Tw: for sickness, symptoms, bodily functions, etc. Coogie was too busy having diarrhea, nausea/vomiting, loss of appetite, abdominal cramps/pain, pain, bleeding, or mucus-like discharge from the rectum, and/or fever this episode (yes those are the symptoms of enteritis. The condition Coogie said he woke up with) Quiett saying "I can't believe I'm holding Coogie's hand" for the first time I'm jealous of Coogie for something other than his money lol Dbo was alright. I thought it'd be worse lol Giriboy....sit your ass down somewhere and stop hyping Dbo. Ok y'all tripping. Y'all really just need to send home Dbo and move on with out lives. That shit was trash. Stop giving Dbo partkcipation awards just because y'all know him outside the show. It's like the MommySon shit all over again. So this is what Yun B does with his Philosoohy degree from one of the too rated university programs? Milli always talking about Al Capone, Cozy Boys, and Nondisclothes. Also, about traveling to Japan lol Damn, Bully has balls. I respect it. Same with EK. At least they aren't being punk ass about it. Kinda wish Super Bee would have went out since it's gonna come sown to those two eventually. Even if it's not the final round.

[forged-through-trials]

With that business in the Market District finished, Ruin and I legged it over toward the Arcane University. The place was considerably ornate, and it felt like there was a charge in the air the instant I stepped through the door. The classrooms and facilities were off-limits to visitors, but I could go into the Entrance/Reception Lobby. Once inside there, I asked around about Boderi Farano, and thankfully Raminus Polus here was nice enough to offer to fetch her.

She arrived in two shakes of a guar’s tail, and I explained the situation and what I needed from her, offering her the three books I’d pinched from Grayrock Cave. Boderi: “Yes, I recognize this language. It’s definitely Ogrish. It is fairly rare to find so much written in this language. The Ogres are not very clever, and most don’t bother learning to write and read. “This one, however, was quite the prolific author. The words start coming and they don’t stop coming. Quill in the ink and he hit the page, runnin’.” Trials: “Yes, but what are the books about?” Boderi: “A cooking book, recipes for fun “A book of spells for a mage-y one “So much to do, so much to see “Book number three is a di-ar-y!” Trials: “...by the Nine, you’re friends with Reman Broder, from Skingrad, aren’t you?” Ruin: “Okay, we know what the books are, but we need more details. Can you translate the books in their entirety?” Boderi: “You both will know in about a week. “Can’t go faster, that is just my peak.“ Trials: “A week??” Boderi: “Hey now, it’s the best that, I can doooo!” “So now, get a move on, go and shoooo!” Trials: “...why are you singing??” Boderi: “It helps me get in the spaaaace “To translate Ogrish script, like an aaace!” Trials: “This song makes me feel like I’ve been concussed.”

With a week to kill and nothing better to do, I decided we could look into my other outstanding Vampire Case. According to my journal, Roland had mentioned that Seridur frequented the First Edition bookshop, so that seemed a likely place to go, and follow up on what became of him. Phintias was in when we arrived, so I chatted him up about the High Elf. Phintias: “Seridur? He comes in from time-to-time. Usually it’s when he’s out shopping. He always comes in with a large amount of travel food in his bag. That Seridur, he’s always like; ‘Yes, I have food in here. Which I eat. With my mouth. That totally doesn’t have fangs in it or anything.’ He’s such a kidder.” Trials: “...riiiiiiight. Uh, have you seen him lately?” Phintias: “Hmm... can’t sa--wait, yes, I think I’ve overhead him once mention Memorial Cave to another patron of mine.” Trials: “What and where is that?” Phintias: “It’s outside of the Imperial City. I heard it’s a place where many of the heroes from past wars are buried. “I just assumed Seridur had a relative that died and is buried there. Not many people go out of there anymore, as the route is dangerous. “I looked it up once in an old atlas I had in stock. Here, let me mark it on your map.” Trials: “Huh. Can’t imagine why he’d go there.” Ruin: “Perhaps he has a Vampire Social Club there?”

According to the map-marker Phintias provided for me, Memorial Cave was on the mainland side of Lake Rumare. So Ruin and I just had to find a bridge to cross back over, and then it was just a matter of following the shore until we found it. Ruin: “This cave smells of vampires. It could be very dangerous. How do you wish to proceed, my friend?” Without a word, I produced several familiar potion bottles. Ruin: It dawned on him, and he grit his teeth, his brow furrowed. “You’re... really going to do it again?” Trials: “It worked so well, last time.” Ruin: “It nearly killed you, last time.” Trials: “But it didn’t kill me. It only made me wish I were dead. And that’s something I can live with, if only because it means I will live.” Ruin: Groaned and shook his head. “Ugh, well I can see I can’t talk you out of this. Just... please, do not die, my friend. I would miss you terribly.”

I drunk three hits of Skooma once more. Don’t try this cool thing at home, kiddies! Again, I had to rely on Ruin to fill me in on what happened while I was flying high on that liquid Moon-Sugar. Trials: “aaaaaaAAAH!” I rushed through the cave, slaying vampires with mighty blows. Every swing of my sword felled another one, as the walls were painted red with the blood of the abominations. Trials: “With these MAGIC WORDS, the King of Rape added another: 'CHIM,' which is the secret syllable of ROYALTY! “Vivec HAD what he needed from the Daedroth and so married him that DAY. In the hour that Bal had his head, the King of Rape asked for PROOF of love!” Vampires: “What is she even screaming about!?” Ruin: “She... appears to be reciting one of the Thirty-Six Lessons of Vivec.” Trials: “ And DESERVED our praise you do, for we are one! Ere you ASCENDED and the Eight became Nine, you walked among us, great TALOS, not as god, but as man!” Ruin: “...okay now I’m completely lost, too.” Trials: “...and ATE his neck-veins while SCREAMING praise to Reman, a NAME that no one knew yet!” Vampires: “...is it too late to surrender?” Ruin: “It was too late the moment the Skooma touched her lips.” The Skooma wore off shortly there after. I woke with a positively pounding headache, and proceeded to puke this morning’s meat pie into the ankle-deep pool of vampire blood filling the room. Trials: I whimpered. “...why do I keep doing that??” Ruin: He snarled. “Yes, why?? I keep telling you that it’s a bad idea, and you keep not listening to me. Do you really not care how you frighten and upset me when you do such reckless things?” Trials: “...” I blinked, then furrowed my brow, frowning. “Gee, Ruin, I don’t know what to say. I... okay, if it upsets you that much, I’ll cut back on the Skooma. We’ll just try and find other ways to deal with vampires from here on out.” Ruin: He sighed, crossed his arms, nodding sagely. “I would appreciate that. I’d prefer our friendship to be a long one.” Trials: “For sure, Ruin. I’m sure nothing will happen to separate us.” We searched through the recently slain vampires, but we didn’t find Seridur among them. But there was a deeper section of cave we’d yet to explore.

And indeed, in that last stretch of cave, we found the vampire himself! Seridur: “Do you really think that I’m surprised to see you here? I let you find me... and by the way, you’re about a month late!” Trials: “Yeah, I got held up. I know I took my time; I wanted to be properly prepared to face a vampire.” Seridur: “Fool! You really think a mere mortal lizard can adequately prepare for me?” Ruin: “...there’s about a dozen dead vampires in the other cavern who would attest that, yes, she is prepared.” Seridur: “I...” He visibly paled. “Oh... so that’s what all that noise was about.” Trials: “Dude, you hired my specifically because you knew I had a reputation. What did you think was going to happen?” Seridur: “I... I knew hiring you was a mistake, but I had to keep up appearances! The damned ‘Order’ insisted we get you into the picture. I think after I’m done with you, Gilen and Grey-Throat will have to be dealt with.” Ruin: “He’s pretty confident for a dead man.” Seridur: He arched his brow at us. “You... two aren’t scared, are you?” Trials: “Oh, if I were sober I might be petrified, but I’m still a little buzzed on Skooma at the moment. Right now, you look like a big scrib-jelly sandwich in clown-shoes.” Ruin: “And I just watch her slay a dozen of your brethren, wielding a legendary vampire-slaying sword and flying high on drugs. I don’t think you alone will be any more difficult for us to deal with.” Seridur: “...oh. Shit.” [Light of Dawn liked that.]

Seridur pulled out a wicked-looking mace, but never got a chance to use it. As he was readying himself, I rushed in, and ran him through, slamming my sword through his gut before he even knew what hit him. Seridur gurgled and hissed, his fangs flashing in the dark, before he fell slump on my sword. Even as I made to kick him off of the blade, I could feel Light of Dawn strum intensely, vibrating in my hands so wildly I had to fight to keep a hold of it. The sword seemed to... to drink Seridur’s blood, and as it did, the gunk that Volmyr and his goons had smeared all over it started to burn away, and I could feel Light of Dawn’s power beginning to awaken. The sword’s glow shone more intensely, and I could make out the sun-decals stamped into the metal. LoD wasn’t quite ‘there’ yet, but I can feel that it had gotten one step closer to being the legendary Blade of Vampire’s Bane it once was.

With Seridur finally vanquished, there was nothing left to do here but to collect the loot. Among them, I found this parchment, labeled as “Reanimate, Part 1″. It appeared to be a spell, or part of one, at least. The spell was incomplete, and not particularly useful to me in this state, but I still collected it. I can stuff it in the Luggage for now, and maybe in time I’ll stumble on the other part or parts.

Now loaded down with treasure, Ruin and I hoofed it over toward Roland Jenseric’s cabin to give him the good news. I knocked on the door, and the man himself came out to greet us. Roland: "Where have you been?? It’s been a month! I’ve resorted to sucking condensation off of the rafters to quench my thirst!” Trials: “...there’s a literal farm directly across from the cabin. If you were thirsty I think you could have just eaten the watermelons.” Roland: “...okay, yes, but counter-argument; eww, watermelon.” Trials: “...” I groaned and rubbed my temple. “Anyway, we took care of Seridur.” Roland: “He’s dead? Thank goodness! I feared I’d never be able to leave here, or worse, that he would come for me!” Trials: “If you were afraid he’d come for you, why did you answer the door without hesitation?” Roland: “I figured, if you were Seridur, you wouldn’t have bothered with knocking, and would’ve just knocked the door down.” Trials: “Huh. Fair point. So, what’re you going to do, now?” Roland: “I’ve had a lot of time to think about that while stuck in here, talking to my socks to keep my mind occupied. The right-sock is convinced the Peryite Flu is a hoax the empire cooked up to seize more power.” Trials: “They’re a theocratic dictatorship! Why would they need to--wait. Why am I arguing with a sock?” Roland: “Anyway, the ironic thing is, I think the Order of the Virtuous Blood should continue its work.” Trials: “What ‘work’? You mean the ‘work’ of hiring me to do all of its work while Grey-Throat stuffs his face with sweetrolls?” Roland: “...yes. “Anyway, give me time to make arrangements, and meet me in Seridur’s basement. Also, I call dibs on Seridur’s flat.” Trials: “Wow. I’d say ‘the body’s not even cold, yet,’ but as a vampire, I’m pretty sure he was always room-temperature.”

[howwelldoyouknowyourmoon]

Laser on the Moon family scam

                                                      Hyun Jin Moon

by Ashamed Korean – October 14, 2012

It is not widely known that Hyun Jin met Hak Ja Han during the funeral debacle when Hyun Jin was in Seoul. Hak Ja Han is trying to do a face saving deal to kick out Kook Jin and air brush the Moon schism to paint a reunified family.

Hak Ja Han, the ultimate false mother, cares only about power and money in that order.

She is ... worrying about how the current conflict might impact the Moon empire and in particular the Cheongpyeong scam outfits’ ability to continue defrauding and ripping off the Japanese, and of course to ensure that they can hold on to their ill gotten gains.

She has tried to persuade Kook Jin to move back to the USA. She argued that he should be satisfied with the fat monthly haul of the scam proceeds from the Japanese to one of his foundations in the USA. However Kookie has his pride and he is not thrilled at the idea of taking the fallen-man role. He does not want to be painted as the villain while Hyun Jin gets rehabilitated. He particularly does not like the fact that Hak Ja Han told him that Hyun Jin appears more telegenic and saleable than himself and is better for securing the assets.

Kookie so far does not want to play ball as he knows that he will be regarded as ass-whooped clown if he leaves now and gives up the fight mid-way.

Meanwhile, Hak Ja Han is trying to instate Hyun Su Han (Hyun Su Kim), the totally corrupt son of Kim Hyo-nam (alias Daemo-nim), as the controlling Chairman of the Tongil Foundation.

The irony does not stop. Kim Hyo-nam terrifies the gullible Japanese into bankrupting not only themselves but any one else they can in order to “liberate” x generations of ancestors in the spirit world in exchange for pardons for their sins. Meanwhile her son lives the life of a Gangnam playboy bankrolling Korean actresses and singers with a notorious reputation for forcing them to have sex with him.

The crimes and hypocrisy of the Moons and their cronies have no bounds. Sun Myung Moon will go down in history as one of the greatest religious criminals of the last thousand years. The only tragedy is how long it is taking for the deluded to demand the proof, check the truth and face the fact that they have been deceived in the most vile and evil way. Moon and his family and organization are completely satanic.

http://howwelldoyouknowyourmoon.tumblr.com/post/33571428848/another-filthy-moon-deal

“You shall know the tree by its fruits”

by Ashamed Korean – October 16, 2012

Hyun Jin was livid when Hak Ja Han, Peter Kim and Kook Jin in his own words (verbatim) “pulled a stunt and put those two little pricks in my place over my head”. Now no one, with any actual accurate personal knowledge of Kook Jin or Hyung Jin could possibly disagree with his complaint or description.

Hyun Jin was and still is personally incensed, because he was very proud to have taken on the white-washing job of settling down the members after the Nansook Hong exposé. He often boasts how he was the only one who took responsibility to restore members’ faith and considered that this was a major factor along with the fact of him being the eldest living son and his telegenic appearance for the fact that “Abojee promised me I was to be his successor, he f*cking promised me.”

He screamed and cursed out those involved with his “betrayal” in private.  His view on his siblings and their past (as well as the inside dirt on how this came about and the inside story of his parents) is instructive.

“Kook Jin is a devious little prick, he was always a sore loser, even as a kid. His favourite game at that time was Risk.”

(Risk is a war strategy board game described by its makers as “It’s appeal is timeless.  Make the “right moves” and you’ll conquer the world!”)

“The problem was Kook Jin used to cheat all the time to try to win and would throw tantrums when he lost.” Well nothing has changed here with him to date.

Hyun Jin went on to say “Kook Jin’s problem is he always had a complex about me, I was better at everything than him—sports, study, looks, speaking—and it used to eat the little prick up… Whatever I did, he tried to copy, but he could just never make it. When I did Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, he did it too, but I always whooped his ass, when I went to Harvard, he tried to get in but failed so he had to get in by other means, with members to do his study papers for him and church money to provide donations to get him in by the back door.”

What Hyun Jin could not forgive Kookie for, is the fact that he “saved the little shit’s ass and then he stabbed me in the back!”.

He went on to explain what a number of mostly Top Korean leaders and 2nd gen know but keep strangely secret, that when Kookie was living in Miami he had an adulterous relationship with a mistress and made her pregnant, “when Parents heard they freaked out and threatened to cut him off”. Hyun Jin went down to Miami and interceded on behalf of the “little prick” and got him forgiven on the condition that he arrange a quiet abortion and get “re-blessed” with a Korean.

The mistress was paid off $500k and told to disappear. Kook Jin also added a threat that if he exposed her he would have her killed.

Once Kookie was rehabilitated, we all know the rest of the story.

However, Hyung Jin, according to Hyun Jin, “was and still is a stupid little prick and a total fraud”. “I raised the little prick, I know him better than anyone. He was useless at most things and kept fantasizing about being different people [like] Bruce Lee, then a Buddhist monk, but he is just an actor. Not only that but he screwed around in addition to being lazy… I had to slap him from time to time to keep him in shape”.

Hyun Jin maintains that the instating of Hyung Jin as the spiritual leader and successor of the movement was a complete set up engineered by Han Hak Ja, Kook Jin and Peter Kim who he calls a “freaking snake”.

Hak Ja Han resents Hyun Jin because he would not pander to her whims. She was frightened that after getting liberated from the control of her husband, if Hyun Jin were to be the successor she would not be able to inherit control of the movement which for her means money and power. Her fears were blown up into a frenzy by Kookie, out of jealousy and resentment, and by Peter Kim, out of greed and fear as he knew Hyun Jin could not stand him and would look to kick him out the moment he got power.

Hak Ja Han then framed the succession issue as a choice between either Hyun Jin or all the rest of the Moon children. Initially the old man would not budge, Hak Ja Han got hysterical and with the help of Hyo Nam Kim, she gave him an ultimatum: Either appoint Hyung Jin and Kook Jin as a Undynamic Duo or she threatened she would leave him, which would finally give the lie to the fiction of the “True Parents”.

Old man Moon blinked and the rest is history.  More to follow.

Postscript “Iknowmoon” praised me for my honesty on my last post but added I was wrong to defame Moon. I can only respond by saying I have no idea how one could defame the infamous.

I would like to remind everyone of the old mantra of the church in the past when they were trying to convince people that Moon was the messiah. “You shall know the tree by its fruits”.  What they meant was that people would see the upright conduct of the rank and file sacrificial members and be fooled in to thinking that Moon and his family and cronies were similar. Well, the truth is coming out in buckets these days, but you may have noticed that they never use this quote any more.

No blowing hot and cold when it suits them; these crooks cannot have it both ways “You shall know the tree by its fruits” is exactly right. The children and the cronies of Sun Myung Moon are king pin abusers of money, power and sex. They obtain money by defrauding deluded members and live by lies and hypocrisy and convoluted deceit which creates the means for their power and money. These fruits are from the tree of Sun Myung Moon himself.

http://whatisonthemoon.tumblr.com/post/33734389743/ye-shall-know-them-by-their-fruits

Was Hak Ja Han behind the ‘Sokcho incident’ fake spirit world message used to remove Hyun Jin, the eldest living son?

Daemo-nim liberates 182 million golf course

Moon in 2012: “You bastards are making me into a puppet. Don’t do that!”

Preston Moon (Hyun Jin)’s last visit to his father in hospital

Obsessing with “Creating the Mother of the Universe” a year before Moon died

Shock: “Ashamed to be Korean” gives a report on the Moon scam

[livmoose]

Locksley Hall

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Comrades, leave me here a little, while as yet 't is early morn: Leave me here, and when you want me, sound upon the bugle-horn. 'T is the place, and all around it, as of old, the curlews call, Dreary gleams about the moorland flying over Locksley Hall; Locksley Hall, that in the distance overlooks the sandy tracts, And the hollow ocean-ridges roaring into cataracts. Many a night from yonder ivied casement, ere I went to rest, Did I look on great Orion sloping slowly to the West. Many a night I saw the Pleiads, rising thro' the mellow shade, Glitter like a swarm of fire-flies tangled in a silver braid. Here about the beach I wander'd, nourishing a youth sublime With the fairy tales of science, and the long result of Time; When the centuries behind me like a fruitful land reposed; When I clung to all the present for the promise that it closed: When I dipt into the future far as human eye could see; Saw the Vision of the world and all the wonder that would be.— In the Spring a fuller crimson comes upon the robin's breast; In the Spring the wanton lapwing gets himself another crest; In the Spring a livelier iris changes on the burnish'd dove; In the Spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.

Then her cheek was pale and thinner than should be for one so young, And her eyes on all my motions with a mute observance hung. And I said, "My cousin Amy, speak, and speak the truth to me, Trust me, cousin, all the current of my being sets to thee." On her pallid cheek and forehead came a colour and a light, As I have seen the rosy red flushing in the northern night. And she turn'd—her bosom shaken with a sudden storm of sighs— All the spirit deeply dawning in the dark of hazel eyes— Saying, "I have hid my feelings, fearing they should do me wrong"; Saying, "Dost thou love me, cousin?" weeping, "I have loved thee long." Love took up the glass of Time, and turn'd it in his glowing hands; Every moment, lightly shaken, ran itself in golden sands. Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might; Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, pass'd in music out of sight. Many a morning on the moorland did we hear the copses ring, And her whisper throng'd my pulses with the fulness of the Spring. Many an evening by the waters did we watch the stately ships, And our spirits rush'd together at the touching of the lips. O my cousin, shallow-hearted! O my Amy, mine no more! O the dreary, dreary moorland! O the barren, barren shore! Falser than all fancy fathoms, falser than all songs have sung, Puppet to a father's threat, and servile to a shrewish tongue! Is it well to wish thee happy?—having known me—to decline On a range of lower feelings and a narrower heart than mine! Yet it shall be; thou shalt lower to his level day by day, What is fine within thee growing coarse to sympathize with clay. As the husband is, the wife is: thou art mated with a clown, And the grossness of his nature will have weight to drag thee down. He will hold thee, when his passion shall have spent its novel force, Something better than his dog, a little dearer than his horse. What is this? his eyes are heavy; think not they are glazed with wine. Go to him, it is thy duty, kiss him, take his hand in thine. It may be my lord is weary, that his brain is overwrought: Soothe him with thy finer fancies, touch him with thy lighter thought. He will answer to the purpose, easy things to understand— Better thou wert dead before me, tho' I slew thee with my hand! Better thou and I were lying, hidden from the heart's disgrace, Roll'd in one another's arms, and silent in a last embrace. Cursed be the social wants that sin against the strength of youth! Cursed be the social lies that warp us from the living truth! Cursed be the sickly forms that err from honest Nature's rule! Cursed be the gold that gilds the straiten'd forehead of the fool! Well—'t is well that I should bluster!—Hadst thou less unworthy proved— Would to God—for I had loved thee more than ever wife was loved. Am I mad, that I should cherish that which bears but bitter fruit? I will pluck it from my bosom, tho' my heart be at the root. Never, tho' my mortal summers to such length of years should come As the many-winter'd crow that leads the clanging rookery home. Where is comfort? in division of the records of the mind? Can I part her from herself, and love her, as I knew her, kind? I remember one that perish'd; sweetly did she speak and move; Such a one do I remember, whom to look at was to love. Can I think of her as dead, and love her for the love she bore? No—she never loved me truly; love is love for evermore. Comfort? comfort scorn'd of devils! this is truth the poet sings, That a sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier things. Drug thy memories, lest thou learn it, lest thy heart be put to proof, In the dead unhappy night, and when the rain is on the roof. Like a dog, he hunts in dreams, and thou art staring at the wall, Where the dying night-lamp flickers, and the shadows rise and fall. Then a hand shall pass before thee, pointing to his drunken sleep, To thy widow'd marriage-pillows, to the tears that thou wilt weep. Thou shalt hear the "Never, never," whisper'd by the phantom years, And a song from out the distance in the ringing of thine ears; And an eye shall vex thee, looking ancient kindness on thy pain. Turn thee, turn thee on thy pillow; get thee to thy rest again. Nay, but Nature brings thee solace; for a tender voice will cry. 'T is a purer life than thine, a lip to drain thy trouble dry. Baby lips will laugh me down; my latest rival brings thee rest. Baby fingers, waxen touches, press me from the mother's breast. O, the child too clothes the father with a dearness not his due. Half is thine and half is his: it will be worthy of the two. O, I see thee old and formal, fitted to thy petty part, With a little hoard of maxims preaching down a daughter's heart. "They were dangerous guides the feelings—she herself was not exempt— Truly, she herself had suffer'd"—Perish in thy self-contempt! Overlive it—lower yet—be happy! wherefore should I care? I myself must mix with action, lest I wither by despair. What is that which I should turn to, lighting upon days like these? Every door is barr'd with gold, and opens but to golden keys. Every gate is throng'd with suitors, all the markets overflow. I have but an angry fancy; what is that which I should do? I had been content to perish, falling on the foeman's ground, When the ranks are roll'd in vapour, and the winds are laid with sound. But the jingling of the guinea helps the hurt that Honour feels, And the nations do but murmur, snarling at each other's heels. Can I but relive in sadness? I will turn that earlier page. Hide me from my deep emotion, O thou wondrous Mother-Age! Make me feel the wild pulsation that I felt before the strife, When I heard my days before me, and the tumult of my life; Yearning for the large excitement that the coming years would yield, Eager-hearted as a boy when first he leaves his father's field, And at night along the dusky highway near and nearer drawn, Sees in heaven the light of London flaring like a dreary dawn; And his spirit leaps within him to be gone before him then, Underneath the light he looks at, in among the throngs of men: Men, my brothers, men the workers, ever reaping something new: That which they have done but earnest of the things that they shall do: For I dipt into the future, far as human eye could see, Saw the Vision of the world, and all the wonder that would be; Saw the heavens fill with commerce, argosies of magic sails, Pilots of the purple twilight dropping down with costly bales; Heard the heavens fill with shouting, and there rain'd a ghastly dew From the nations' airy navies grappling in the central blue; Far along the world-wide whisper of the south-wind rushing warm, With the standards of the peoples plunging thro' the thunder-storm; Till the war-drum throbb'd no longer, and the battle-flags were furl'd In the Parliament of man, the Federation of the world. There the common sense of most shall hold a fretful realm in awe, And the kindly earth shall slumber, lapt in universal law. So I triumph'd ere my passion sweeping thro' me left me dry, Left me with the palsied heart, and left me with the jaundiced eye; Eye, to which all order festers, all things here are out of joint: Science moves, but slowly, slowly, creeping on from point to point: Slowly comes a hungry people, as a lion, creeping nigher, Glares at one that nods and winks behind a slowly-dying fire. Yet I doubt not thro' the ages one increasing purpose runs, And the thoughts of men are widen'd with the process of the suns. What is that to him that reaps not harvest of his youthful joys, Tho' the deep heart of existence beat for ever like a boy's? Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers, and I linger on the shore, And the individual withers, and the world is more and more. Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers, and he bears a laden breast, Full of sad experience, moving toward the stillness of his rest. Hark, my merry comrades call me, sounding on the bugle-horn, They to whom my foolish passion were a target for their scorn: Shall it not be scorn to me to harp on such a moulder'd string? I am shamed thro' all my nature to have loved so slight a thing. Weakness to be wroth with weakness! woman's pleasure, woman's pain— Nature made them blinder motions bounded in a shallower brain: Woman is the lesser man, and all thy passions, match'd with mine, Are as moonlight unto sunlight, and as water unto wine— Here at least, where nature sickens, nothing. Ah, for some retreat Deep in yonder shining Orient, where my life began to beat; Where in wild Mahratta-battle fell my father evil-starr'd,— I was left a trampled orphan, and a selfish uncle's ward. Or to burst all links of habit—there to wander far away, On from island unto island at the gateways of the day. Larger constellations burning, mellow moons and happy skies, Breadths of tropic shade and palms in cluster, knots of Paradise. Never comes the trader, never floats an European flag, Slides the bird o'er lustrous woodland, swings the trailer from the crag; Droops the heavy-blossom'd bower, hangs the heavy-fruited tree— Summer isles of Eden lying in dark-purple spheres of sea. There methinks would be enjoyment more than in this march of mind, In the steamship, in the railway, in the thoughts that shake mankind. There the passions cramp'd no longer shall have scope and breathing space; I will take some savage woman, she shall rear my dusky race. Iron-jointed, supple-sinew'd, they shall dive, and they shall run, Catch the wild goat by the hair, and hurl their lances in the sun; Whistle back the parrot's call, and leap the rainbows of the brooks, Not with blinded eyesight poring over miserable books— Fool, again the dream, the fancy! but I know my words are wild, But I count the gray barbarian lower than the Christian child. I, to herd with narrow foreheads, vacant of our glorious gains, Like a beast with lower pleasures, like a beast with lower pains! Mated with a squalid savage—what to me were sun or clime? I the heir of all the ages, in the foremost files of time— I that rather held it better men should perish one by one, Than that earth should stand at gaze like Joshua's moon in Ajalon! Not in vain the distance beacons. Forward, forward let us range, Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change. Thro' the shadow of the globe we sweep into the younger day; Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay. Mother-Age (for mine I knew not) help me as when life begun: Rift the hills, and roll the waters, flash the lightnings, weigh the Sun. O, I see the crescent promise of my spirit hath not set. Ancient founts of inspiration well thro' all my fancy yet. Howsoever these things be, a long farewell to Locksley Hall! Now for me the woods may wither, now for me the roof-tree fall. Comes a vapour from the margin, blackening over heath and holt, Cramming all the blast before it, in its breast a thunderbolt. Let it fall on Locksley Hall, with rain or hail, or fire or snow; For the mighty wind arises, roaring seaward, and I go.

[newagesispage]

                                                            JUNE        2019

 PAGE RIB

***** Catch the new stand up: David Cross: Oh Come On

***** There is no more smoking at Disney.

***** Psilocybin mushrooms have been decriminalized in Denver!!

***** Adam Sandler is touring and he has a new stand up special out: 100% Fresh.

***** The new book, ‘The Castle at Sunset’ is coming. Looks pretty juicy!

***** FORD is cutting about 7,000 jobs.

***** Ben Domenech, Meghan McCain’s hubby did a rant about Seth Meyers after Meyers called her out on his show about some of her comments.

***** Eddie Redmayne is in pre- production on ‘The Trial of the Chicago 7.’ where he plays Tom Hayden.

***** Sexual misconduct news: Alan Dershowitz is being accused by the victim of a former client.

***** Steak n Shake is being sued again. Somebody straighten this out. Will they go out of biz?? It seemed to change when new owners took over.

***** A final rule was issued May 2 by the Department of Health and Human Services that health care workers can’t be compelled to participate in medical care that disagrees with their religion or conscious. Fuck You Patients!

***** Martin Scorsese, Brian Grazer and Ron Howard are bringing us’ Once were brothers.’ This will be the telling of RobbieRobertson’s truth about The Band.

***** Is this true? One of the reasons the USPS is struggling so bad is that senators voted to make them pre pay pensions?

***** The NRDC night of comedy with Seth Meyers, John Oliver, Tiffany Haddish, Hasan Minhaj, Sarah Silverman, John Mulaney and others raised 1.7 mil for environmental protection.

***** Edwin Hiatt was arrested for the murder of Barry Crane. Crane was a champion bridge player as well as a director and producer of such shows as Mannix, Dallas, The Incredible Hulk and Hawaii Five-0 among others.

***** Visit the site of The Alliance for lifetime income that is sponsoring the Stones No Filter tour.

***** CBS is shaking it up. Word is that the morning show will be hosted by Gayle King, Tony Dukoupil and Anthony Mason. John Dickerson will move to 60 minutes and Norah O’Donnell will anchor the CBS evening news where she’ll be perfect. What took them so fucking long??

***** Days alert: Stephen Nichols is returning as Patch.** Word is also that Tony and Anna are headed back. Best news ever!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Kristen may be back. So, more possibly coming back from the dead.. Will, Nicole, Jack.. None of these people are what they seem, they just aren’t quite themselves. Brainwashed? Plastic surgery on others? Fake faces? It could be any old soap opera trick. Was the whole burning building a set up?  What do Rolf and Rex have to do with this? How is it all connected? ** I am really glad that Mel and Haley are gaining story. Keep it coming. Love the pairings going on. JJ and Haley have such chemistry as do Ben and Ciara, of course.** Is Xander really Victor’s son?? Ok.. ! fake face so far with Nicole.** LET’S GIVE RORY A REAL STORY!!!!!

***** So much entertainment is bringing Trumptopia to their universe. People seem so upset and genuinely scared and they have to get it out and put their take on it.

***** Marie Osmond takes Sara Gilberts chair at The Talk.

***** Arnold Schwarzenegger was attacked by a man in South Africa.

***** Chris Hemsworth and Tiffany Haddish will star in Paramount’s buddy movie, Down Under Cover.

***** Support the National Popular Vote Compact for the Electoral College.

***** Country House @ 65-1 won the Kentucky Derby after a historic disqualification of first winner, Maximum Security. There was also much controversy before the race after 23 horses have died at Santa Anita.

***** So to be clear that we are on the same page: Obstruction is impeding or attempting to impede for a corrupt purpose like helping yourself.  Even the parts of the Mueller report that we can see show obstruction. Also, If the statute of limitations are about to run out, an indictment can be made and sealed against a sitting President. The case would be prosecuted after he is out of office. So let’s quit fucking around.** Republican Rep. from Michigan, Justin Amash urges action on our President. He writes that Trump has been engaged in specific actions and a pattern of behavior that meet the threshold for impeachment. He actually read the report.** Why does it seem that the ‘Great again’ and ‘Taking it back’ conservative family value crowd often turn out to be doing the shady stuff behind our backs?

***** Mueller finally spoke and seemed to reinforce both sides. He is leaving his post but the Grand jury investigation chugs along.** A Federal judge ordered all Mike Flynn passages in the Mueller report to be made public.

***** The McCain naval vessel and Japan?? Really??

***** The President is tweeting agreement with North Korea about Joe Biden? That is about right.** Scary Clown also stormed out of a meeting after Pelosi was talking about his cover up earlier in the day. The signs for his little ‘impromptu’ press conference that he ran to were already set up.

***** So the WH seems to be telling everyone not to testify before congress. No more rules. I suppose the time has come that we can do whatever we want and there will be no consequences. It is good to know we can all fight subpoenas till the bitter end, it opens up a whole can of worms. Really this is all about seeing how far they can go, what can they get away with??

***** The Pentagon has diverted 1.5 billion from various defense department funds for his wall. The money earmarked for training troops and equipping our forces is apparently better used for the border. ** Congress has now threatened to take away the defense department’s ability to move money around. There is usually consultation but they are, of course, ignoring it.**

***** Jared wants a merit based system for the illegals. So, we want to bring immigrants into the country that will take all of the good jobs?  I do not understand this family, they want a wall so nobody gets in, they want immigrants to work at Mar A Lago to service them and now they want only people qualified to work high end jobs.** Kushner’s real estate company has gotten about $800 mil in federal loans.

***** At this point Trump’s 225 days of golf have cost us $122 mil and he is making money for his resorts every time.

***** Theresa May is out.

***** Kim Jong Un’s top aide is said to have been put in hard labor.  North Korea also executed Kim Hyok Chol and four foreign ministry officials in March after the Trump summit charged with espionage.

***** Mexico is getting a 5% tariff.

***** Native Americans are being killed by police officers at a higher rate than anybody else.

***** Fuck dementia.. Just TRIP!!

***** Manafort’s condo in Trump tower is being put up for auction as the Government takes possession.

***** The New Haven documentary film fest is running a 7 film retrospective of Michael Moore’s work this month.

***** A new report says that the EPA has been ordered to get thousands of deaths “off the books” by altering the way they calculate the risks of air pollution.

***** Ben Carson will never live down his ‘OREO’ moment. If there wasn’t enough proof that people without a clue have been put in charge, this is it. Supporters have to be pretty stupid to think it is a good idea for the stupid people to be in charge. What is so wrong with smart people, not crafty, slick people, I mean smart people who know how to actually solve problems and come up with good ideas? I can’t help but think of an Uncle in our family called Mort. There was much talk when I was a child of Mort being so smart and quiet. When he came to family gatherings he would sit in the corner and read and learn instead of socializing. I always wondered why they thought that was wrong. I was so envious of him. I realize that isn’t exactly on the same page but smart is good.** One day after Carson’s ‘testimony’ there was a new proposal to HUD’s equal access rule. It would allow federally funded homeless shelters to consider sexual and gender identity, privacy, safety, practical concerns and religious beliefs when deciding if they want to accommodate someone.

***** The Harriet Tubman $20 bill will be delayed for circulation until possibly 2028. Scary Clown has always criticized the move and Treasury Secretary Steve Mnuchin says that Andrew Jackson will remain on the bill for now.

***** The costuming on HBO’s The Young Pope is so fucking awesome.

***** Former WH chief of staff John Kelly has joined the board of Caliburn International. This conglomerate operates facilities that hold the detained immigrant children in our country.

***** Matt Smith stars in ‘Charlie Says’ in the latest incarnation of Manson.

***** Hooray for Chobani!! The company is paying off school lunch debt in Rhode Island for students so they don’t have to eat jelly sandwiches.

***** Bill De Blasio is running for President.

***** Gene Simmons of KISS gave a press briefing at the Department of Defense.

***** Citrus farmers are using antibiotics to fight bacteria in crops. Health officials are afraid this could fuel antibiotic resistance in us.

***** Sen. Michael Bennett is running for President.** He said that his Mother found out he was running from the newspaper. There was some talk about Jello when he was interviewed on Seth Meyers.

***** The Chief Pig compared Mayor Pete to Alfred E. Neuman. Pete said he was glad that he inspired the President to make a literary reference, even though the Mayor was too young to know the reference.

***** There is a Variety series : Actors on Actors. See the one with Jason Bateman and Bill Hader. Yeow. oh to be the cream in that Oreo. Can I say that in the Me Too era? Are there reverse problems with that??

***** For Putin, things started off as a mountain and ended up being a _____. He is laughing at this country every day.

***** ‘The Quiet One’, a doc about Bill Wyman is here.

***** Matthew Modine is running for SAG AFTRA president. He is getting endorsements from Ed Asner, Vincent D’Onofrio, Mira Sorvino, Nancy Sinatra, Patricia and Rosanna Arquette, Sean Astin, Ernie Hudson, Alfred Molina and Bill Mumy.

***** The Cool Kids was cancelled. BOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WTF?? Their September debut was the most watched Friday broadcast comedy debut in almost 6 years.

*****Empire will end after season 6.

***** The Daytime Emmys didn’t do much for Days after all those noms. Kyler Pettis was the only winner. I was happy for GH’s Max Gail. CBS Sunday Morning won best morning program. There has been some controversy over some of the regulations and some tv shows threatened to boycott. At one point, Patrika Darbo had an Emmy revoked. There was some stunning fashion. My faves were Annika Noelle, Jaqueline Macinnes Wood, Camila Banus, Lexie Stevenson, Linsey Godfrey, Olivia Rose Keegan, Brandon Barash, Carolyn Hennesy and Victoria Konefal.

***** There is some shady business in Wisconsin with Foxconn. The Taiwanese company made big promises with Scott Walker and Trump. They have since been backing out of the manufacturing side of the deal. Republicans want to blame the new democratic Governor but he was warning them about this company way back when.  Why are these hucksters always blaming others for the kinds of things they do??

***** HB 1633 in Illinois is a bill to, among other things, make a felony of peaceful protests!! Thanks oil lobbyists!** But, Illinois is making some progress in the right direction on some fronts.. House Bill 1438 was approved by the Senate to legalize possession and sale of weed. At the end of May it passed the house. The bad news is that police already have records of those that use medical marijuana and if they pull you over, they can charge you if you have used any that day. ** The Reproductive Health Act passed which states that an egg, embryo or fetus does not have independent rights and the state can’t deny or restrict reproductive rights.

***** After chickengate, the committee voted to hold Attorney General Barr in contempt of congress. Now it moves on but the contempt can be denied by the DOJ. Rep. from Texas, Sheila Jackson Lee made a great speech and broke it down to show that they were only making a simple request of documents and the WH and Barr will not comply.

***** The WH has been revoking press passes from journalists they do not want there, nearly the entire corp. They granted exceptions for the press they like.

***** Amal Clooney helped to free Reuters journalists, Wa Lone and Kyaw Soe OO from Myanmar. Many other journalists are still being held.

***** A man in Illinois takes old bikes and parts and makes them useable again. He gives them to people in need of transportation. A Morton woman put out a call on the internet to gather old bikes for him and got them beyond her wildest dreams. Way to go!!

***** In Georgia abortions could soon be illegal after 6 weeks. 3 production companies, Blown Deadline productions, Killer Films and Duplass Brothers productions say if that happens they will no longer film in Georgia. Now Alabama has jumped on board with the want to prosecute Doctors. And it goes on with Kentucky, Mississippi, Ohio, Iowa, Louisiana, Utah and North Dakota.  The Reich is chipping away at our rights. Why do we keep putting so many conservative men in powerful  places?? Why are the 1% ruling the rest of us??** Debbie Harry commented at the ASCAP pop music awards, “I think it’s criminal.”** Some states are saying they may even investigate miscarriages. Why not just follow all ejaculations?? I have had a miscarriage and the last thing I would have needed in my pain was someone investigating me. WTF?

***** Did anybody else the owl clock on American Housewife?

***** John Waters has a new book: Mr. Know it all

***** Letterman is back with his Netflix gig where he will interview Tiffany Haddish, Ellen, Melinda Gates and Kanye West. Doesn’t it seem like our world went crazy after Dave left his CBS show? More Dave!  On the talk show rounds he does sort of seem like an old guy holding court but still hot!!!

***** The Wal Mart pick up ad with all the famous rides makes me a little crazy when the lowly Wal Mart employee worker is getting hit by a customer.

***** Liam Neeson will star in The Minuteman.

***** Caterpillar has sent a cease and desist to coffee company Cat and Cloud because of their name.

***** McDonalds is said to be bringing America the best of their international menu this summer for a test drive.

***** The Al Franken podcast is here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

***** A cancer diagnosis usually ends with 4 in 10 patients depleting their savings.

***** Secretary Amy L. Bedwell was arrested for theft from a parent teacher organization in Illinois. She will go to court for the Riverview grade school incident on June 12.

***** Spielberg’s Amblin tv is severing ties with the show Bull. CBS has paid 9.5 mil to settle harassment claims by Eliza Dushku against Michael Weatherly.

***** The Met Gala was at its best with wonderful camp looks from Harry Styles, Lady Gaga, Billy Porter, Janelle Monae, Zendaya , Laverne Cox, RuPaul, Darren Criss, Ashley Graham, Dua Liba, Natasha Lyonne and Lupita N’yongo.

***** August will bring us John Goodman and Danny McBride as part of a televangelist family in The Righteous Gemstones.

***** Cannes person of the year in entertainment award this year is Lorne Michaels.

***** New show, Bluff City Law looks pretty good even though we really don’t need another lawyer show.

***** Mick is back at it and new dates have been set for the Stones tour which will begin June 21 in Chicago!!!!!!

***** The Illinois department of corrections have not been able to account for 3, 568 items in a recent audit.

***** Ava Duverney has made a movie that needed to be made about the Central Park 5.

***** There is a helium shortage.

***** Steve Kroft of 60 minutes is retiring.

***** Director Bong Joon-Ho’s ‘Parasite’ has won the Palme d’or at Cannes.

***** Duff Mcagan has a new solo album with help from Shooter Jennings.

***** Conan has settled a lawsuit over joke theft. A blogger claimed that his writers had stolen 4 jokes from his blog. The jokes were not that unique and there are so many hundreds of similar jokes out there anymore with the crazy news cycle and so many late night hosts and on liners. Conan wrote about hs odyssey in Variety.** Conan also wrote a theme song for NPR news.

***** Mike Pompeo seems happy that when the ice caps melt there will be new, easier to travel trade routes. So, do you think it is a hoax or are they really melting?

***** Jessica Chastain and Andrew Garfield will pay Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker in a biopic.

***** Scarlett Johansson and Colin Jost are engaged.

***** Meghan Markle and Prince Harry brought us 7 lb. 3 oz. Archie Harrison Mountbatten Windsor.

***** R.I.P. Peter Mayhew, 9 gray whales, Kendrick Castillo, Jim Fowler, Doris Day, Sammy Shore, Alvin Sargent , Tim Conway , Ron Hiatt, all the children who keep dying in our custody , victims of the Virginia Beach shooting, John Pinto and Peggy Lipton.

[ahwhite2208-blog]

A Thousand Days In Hell

Non-league football is a peculiar entity. For half of the teams in the National League, and certainly the rest in the steps below, it is a wonderful opportunity to do the unthinkable and gain entry to the world of full time football, a dream that so many children have and yet so few manage to live. The players are part time brickies, postmen, regional bank clerks – you know, the type of clubs and players that the BBC cameras fawn over in the FA Cup first round. In principle, it’s great. If I was a Gateshead or a Solihull fan, I might even enjoy it. But when a club the size of Tranmere Rovers fell out of the Football League trapdoor, the typical non-league experience is turned on its head.

The day before I moved to university, I stood on the terraces at Southport and watched us go 2-0 down within 20 minutes. It still hadn’t registered to me that this was actually happening, a feeling of bemusement that I’m sure most of us shared. It was meant to be a whistlestop tour of shit grounds and shit teams that we’d only ever seen in pre-season friendlies. As it turned out, we were destined to spend 1,115 days with this feeling. Denial, sadness, anger, guilt and frustration all came and went, depending on the level of opposition and how quickly we managed to concede. A wounded animal, confused and in pain, Tranmere Rovers as a collective entity was in unfamiliar surroundings. What were we meant to do? It felt like a fever dream. The hideous turquoise tracksuits, the god awful Vanarama branding, even the footballs themselves looked tacky and amateurish. Granted, we hadn’t exactly covered ourselves in glory for about fifteen years but what did we do to deserve this? Most of the players, on our side and theirs, looked like they had won a competition to play at being a footballer for the day. It was a continuation of the previous season’s atrocities, but at a level of football that was truly embarrassing to watch. We didn’t even make the playoffs in that first year, thanks to a team from Essex with about three pound fifty to their name and two P.E teachers in charge. Two ends of the spectrum and all that.

If I’m being honest, I remember next to nothing about the 16 months that Gary Brabin was in charge. I barely went to the games after September, I didn’t know who half of our players were, and I stopped caring. When you spend your 18thbirthday watching Boreham Wood beat you 2-0, something inside of you just dies. I didn’t even bother going to Wrexham. I binned off browsing the Cowsheds – probably a wise decision for anyone wanting to keep their sanity – so FlashScore and the occasional Twitter update was about as much as I could be arsed. I was used to my Kopite and Bluenose mates taking the piss out of us, but I draw the line at Sebastian from Surrey braying in the Mission smoking area about how he could never watch non-league football because his daddy gets executive seats at Chelsea. To be honest, I kept a good crowd at uni. Most of my teammates supported Championship teams like Ipswich or Preston, but even their sympathetic nods and “you’re too big to be down there, remember when you were playing us in League One?” became depressing.

On my occasional visits home in second year, things seemed to be picking up pace. The glamping tent was established (two Gamma Rays and a Sheppy’s please Mark) and we had an alright team. Nors and Harris were becoming cult heroes, we signed Steeeeve and looked like we could actually win the league. Still had to put up with the refereeing, the 12 North Ferriby fans and the voice in the back of your head that says you’re going to be here forever, but at least things were looking up. Remember though, this is Tranmere, and the good was inevitably followed by the bad. Lincoln away was possibly the worst place I’ve ever been for several reasons, the main one being that it looks like post-apocalypse Brexit Britain and the locals are the strangest mutants you can imagine. Whoever’s van I keyed: you deserved it for a) beating us, b) living in Lincoln and c) having a copy of the S*n on your dashboard. Imagine giving somewhere as desolate as Lincoln city status. Anyway, they had the last laugh because they won the league by four points and we got beat at Wembley by a team whose owner wanted to spend millions of actual Great British Pounds on a football ground made out of matchsticks.

Having a life outside of Tranmere proved to be surprisingly easy when we were dwelling in the depths of non-league. I still spent my Saturdays on the couch with an illegal stream of Phil Thompson’s nose and no money in my Betfair account, but it was a somewhat refreshing change to not be planning your life around Rotherham away on a Tuesday night. There wasn’t a chance that I was spending my free government money going to Dover or Torquay when I could spend it on weed and takeaways instead. The few aways that I did manage (hello, 20 minute train journeys to Guiseley and Halifax) were just soul crushing. The council pitch that Guiseley play on had a building site behind it, and absolutely zero incline on the terrace, which is a problem for a short arse like me. I went three times in three years and managed to see a grand total of about 40 minutes. Still worth it for the time I got sick of a 15 year old singing ‘sign on’ and told him in no uncertain terms that Sutcliffe killed his nan. There’s a couple of layers in that one.

As usual, the footballing gods conspired against us last year and we managed to get ¾ of our midfield injured before the play off final. I think we were one injury away from having a centre midfield partnership of Purple Aki and Pete Price, although on reflection the lizard would have had a better game than Lois Maynard. If he was under 6 foot, he’d still be knocking about playing for Manchester Met or wherever we signed him from, the absolute fucking fraud. I’m sure Aki would have put the fear of God into Forest Green as well. Imagine marking him from a corner, he’d have a field day squeezing muscles. In all honesty, we deserved another year in hell for that performance. I’d like to make an official apology for getting escorted off the premises for what can only be described as monumentally dickish behaviour after a long day in the sun.

Now that we’ve won there, I can finally say that Wembley is a corporate shithole without it sounding like sour grapes. Mr. Palios, tear down that arch! Christ alive, what an awful place it is to watch football. Notwithstanding the fact that it’s only ever 20% full for the National League, everything about it just drains you as a fan. It’s more like an airport hangar than an actual ground. I hear Tottenham are putting shops in their new gaff, something the Jaguars owner will almost definitely copy when he buys the place. I’m not a fan of London in general, but Wembley just takes the piss. If I can make it through the next 60 odd years of my life without ever going back, I’ll be happy.

The fact that I’ve got this far in without mentioning the referees is testament to how long the list of complaints about the National League is. Incompetent would be putting it kindly, because every single one of these clowns got their qualifications from the back of a Cornflakes packet. I’m well into my conspiracy theories, and the one about BT and Vanarama deliberately keeping us down in order to boost viewing figures sounds plausible enough, but that would require several doses of the dark arts that these morons don’t have the brain capacity for. It’s a hard job to referee a football match, made even harder if you have absolutely no common sense. The timewasting in that league is enough to test the patience of a saint. All the VAR nonsense at the World Cup is proof that the governing institutions have gone mental. You’d never finish a game in the National League if the refs had VAR. The first half against Ebbsfleet would still be going on. I could list hundreds of terrible decisions both for and against us and it still wouldn’t scratch the surface, but Ritchie Sutton getting sent off at Welling, Scott Davies being assaulted into the net at Barrow and Chester getting a penalty that was about three yards outside the box all stick out.

The last thing I fancy a rant about is the almost comedic lack of professionalism surrounding the entire setup. They absolutely ham it up to the BT cameras like the entire world has woken up at 12.30 to watch Woking v Eastleigh on a Saturday morning. Literally every tweet the official account has ever posted makes me cringe, the pundits are so painfully beige that they make Steve Claridge and his receding hairline look like Little Richard in comparison and Boreham Wood somehow managed to get away with charging to watch their highlights. The fucking cheek of it! It was a stress relief to unfollow them all, clicking each button and feeling part of my soul flowing back into me. At one point, we had no idea whether we were playing on Saturday or not, because the FA Trophy replay took priority over the league. Usually this is all sorted out as soon as possible, but because the NL fixtures are done by some fella writing them down in his ma’s kitchen, they’d got confused. They eventually told us on Friday afternoon that yes, your league game is on. I despair. Even the whole Solihull floodlights debacle got sorted quicker. Juventus’ match-fixing scandal had nothing on that, by the way. The 200 odd people who watched that replay were witness to us throwing that game. I don’t think I saw anyone in a white shirt break out of a jog, and I was all for it. I got to spend a lovely weekend in Solihull (not a patch on Birkenhead) and watch a game of football played in front of a crowd smaller than the Beechwood-Upton derby, with a fraction of the intensity. The perfect non-league experience.

I’ll finish this off by saying thank you to Mark and Nicola Palios, to everyone at the Trust and the TROSC, the Wirral Radio team, and every single season ticket holder. Without you, the club wouldn’t have climbed out of the pit. In fact, I think we’d have developed Stockholm Syndrome within the next few seasons and become like our Welsh friends. The turnaround and revitalisation of the entire structure of this football club gives us hope for the future. Not just blind hope, but optimism as well. When we were losing to Altrincham, I didn’t think that the suites would be pulling in money, or we’d have an academy setup in China. When Welling were putting us to the sword, I didn’t think we’d ever see a club that the fans are so fiercely proud of again. Thank you for not losing interest when I did. That day at Wembley has already been written about. Let us not emerge from non-league abyss blinking at the sunlight, desperate for comfort. Let us instead kick the door of League Two down, wielding dual scythes and behead Stevenage like an invading Dothraki horde.

Figuratively, obviously.

[mikel-rarez-blog]

BERLIN [1]

It’s been almost a week and I haven’t been able to dissect between what really occurred and what was only true according to my besmirched psyche.

The second night I was convinced I was the king of this newly conquered land, I was the legend that people never forget though they may not possess all the right details – that is the simple truth for simple minds.

I’ve been trying to seize the exact moment when it had happened. Unfortunately, I haven’t been lucky in doing so. My thoughts are still entangled and scattered, irremediably displaced and disturbed; I’ve pondered over them time and time again, however, I’m still left hanging.

The past four days have been an excess of everything, just too much. My nervous system imploded and I was left thinking everybody hated me, they kept saying I was a user and that I wasn’t worth more than any of them in the real world. I was lucky my host wouldn’t just kick me out; he either did care a bit for me or he didn’t want any police problems, I was leaning towards the latter, though he kept telling me everything was ok, don’t worry, I understand.

I just don’t quite believe it.

…

Yesterday we did nothing other than having lunch.

My host wouldn’t say much; he made sure his mouth was full every time I attempted to even look sideways. Although, when I did manage to blurt out a question, he would respond enthusiastically.

I sought to divert from what my gut kept whispering with such intensity. I persisted in failing though.

One moment, I heard my host on the phone pouring scorn on me for not leaving. As I returned to the living area, he welcomed me with the friendliest of smiles.

And how could I mistrust those beautifully carved teeth?

…

I was still afflicted by the previous nights.

I had chiselled my own sepulchre in a city so foreign to what I was used to. I had thought I would be able to handle me dwindling from above while attempting to forsake that mindless shadow who claimed to be better than its real self. 

Boy was I wrong. 

And who would give a damn? The contradiction was just too great for anyone to even fathom. 

I know I wouldn’t give it a thought.

…

My host had invited two boys over, they played and it had sounded real hard and extremely rough, the way I like it. Unfortunately, my body couldn’t have taken any more; I had to take a breather and rest, at least try.

To add to my agitation, I could barely sleep. Their voices rushed on through me like fiery spears, they hurt so badly. They had been mean, cruel, and rash. They pulverised my heart, for what they had spat like venom seemed the truth.

“Don’t mind him. He’s a clown; this is all a theatre for him. He thinks I don’t know but I do. We met once and then he says he’s moving to my city. How stupid does he think I am? He’s waiting for me to hand over the keys. How disappointed will he be! I wasn’t born yesterday.”

“He told me some conflicting stories also, I mean, how is it possible for someone to have three degrees, be under 30 and not have a job. And he says he’s applying to university here. That just doesn’t add up, he doesn’t seem that bright.”

“And what about the feet thing, they stink and he wouldn’t show them to either of us. What’s that about?”

“Maybe his toes are deformed?”

“No, that’s how he hides his addiction.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, his type of junkie, they shoot themselves and try to hide it. I bet you that’s what he doesn’t want us to see, the infection marks between his toes.”

Only one of those statements was true and after having heard their tirade I know that even if I showed them proof, they wouldn’t buy it. I had been everything but the regular me. I couldn’t form a proper phrase. I was clumsier than usual, and after day two I was even more socially awkward than my regular self, which is already quite abnormal and strange.

I had chiselled my own sepulchre in a city so foreign to what I was used to. I had thought I would be able to handle me going to the limit and trying to be someone who in his mind was better than his real self. Boy was I wrong. And they wouldn’t believe me; the contradiction was just too great for anyone to even fathom. I know I wouldn’t give it a thought.

I had shown the worst of me, and that’ll keep haunting me.

…

Fall asleep, fall asleep, fall asleep, FALL ASLEEP, FALL ASLEEP, just FALL…

…

Before their rant had come to be I had been fine, more than fine.

Up until the moment my host asked me if I was ok I had been horny as hell; eventually he answered himself saying I wasn’t. Soon after I lost myself.

I tore myself to pieces. I had been reciting silently how OK I was, how in control I was, what a better man I was; it turned out I was wrong. My host had seen through me and with only three words he had dismantled me. NowI know that was the moment, when I started to descend.

The image stuck in my mind, me realising the life I was used to having was no more and by me deciding on not turning back I may have just as well condemned what was to come. I might have destroyed that which had made me content with who I am.

I’ve been a fool for so long, thinking I could escape my previous life, my previous man, my so constant despair.

I remember writing to him before it all got blurry. I remember him answering and telling me everything was great. I remember feeling sad and devastated we could not be together. I remember being upset he had not chosen me. I remember being crushed he would not acknowledge me.

I remember not being there.

…

Half asleep I wandered across my host’s flat. The boys weren’t done playing just yet; they were nowhere near finishing.

I don’t recall much but the imprint of the two small and slim boys all tight up, one looking at the ceiling, face covered with white plastic, and the other one looking down, his bare ass pointing to the sky or rather to my host’s greedy fists. Both of them were as silent as a grave, my feet stumbled noisily, the noisiest they had ever been.

My funebrial walk to the bathroom had been a success.

…

“Should we go over and take his socks off? Let’s uncover him!”

“Shh! He’s not really sleeping. Look, he’s faking it.”

FALL ASLEEP, FALL ASLEEP, FALL ASLEEP, FALL ASLEEP…

…

TO BE CONTINUED