#+ adding on the truman show to everything takes so much energy and makes everything make no fucking sense

[thetangibleghost]

[song unrelated. it was just what was playing when i got in my car]

today i learned why theres violence prevention information on the back of everyones work id. Something about the environment made my immediate reaction to over hearing someone calling me special to go fucking feral. Which is funny because it was, like, a group of men and im 5'7". Would not have gone down well. not that i would ever actually resort to violence like that, i was just surprised that that was my brains immediate reaction to the issue.

[medea10]

My Review of 22/7

How did I get into this anime? Fuck it! I picked a random anime to watch for the winter line-up. Let’s hit it!

22/7 is an idol group for real in Japan with one hell of a fanbase. LET’S GIVE THEM THEIR OWN ANIME!

Okay!

So, eight total strangers are picked by random to become part of an idol group. That’s essentially it! Eight girls who don��t know each other are told to meet some gorilla producer at a zoo and told to drop everything in their lives to become idols. What the literal and actual fuck?!

First of all, the concept of having all of these young girls being eyed and taken to some underground penthouse has Jeffery Epstein AND R. Kelly vibes ALL OVER THIS MESS! Although, I will give this anime some credit that these girls are at least high school age or older (but not by much)!

We’ve got a shy, introvert named Miu. Then there’s the blonde, cutie from America, Sakura. Nicole, the only one with an interest of becoming an idol. Junko, the spunky girl with butt-loads of energy. The no-nonsense and let’s get down to business, Akane. Miyako, the girl with sisterly love. The practical one, Reika. And Ayaka...she’s also in the group! These eight girls make up the group, 22/7 (a group name to this day I’m not sure why it’s called that).

They are then told to obey a wall…

OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE! A wall? Seriously?! A God-damned wall?! These girls and the people promoting 22/7 are to obey plates that are shit out by a wall! I know idol animes are notorious for fucked up storylines, but…I can’t even here! Becoming idols because it’s been your life-long dream like in Idolm@ster, that is fine! Becoming idols in order to save your school from being shut down like in Love Live, that is fine! Becoming idols because an eccentric necromancer brings you back from the dead like in Zombieland Saga, fucking awesome! A wall that must be obeyed when giving decisions on an idol group…what the literal and actual fuck!

Here’s what most episodes are set up like.

1. The Wall gives out an order. 2. One of the girls doesn’t want to do *insert activity here*. 3. Flashbacks play off and on for girl of the day. 4. You must do what The Wall says. 5. I don’t want to. 6. BITCH, DON’T GO AGAINST THE WALL. THE WALL IS GOD!!! 7. Pout, contemplate, and more flashbacks play. 8. Fine, I’ll do it. 9. Play the ending theme!

BETWEEN THE SUB AND THE DUB: This anime is licensed by the good folks at Aniplex (and possibly FUNimation). Crunchyroll added this one month after the initial release. If you’re all wondering why that’s happening to a lot of Crunchyroll-picked animes, yeah keep wondering. Sony has control over Aniplex and FUNimation and as a result Crunchyroll has a delay on several animes (including this one). It’s an inconvenience and just raises the rates of people downloading the episodes illegally. Once again, thanks for nothing, Sony! Give Crunchyroll some credit as they do give people in other countries streaming benefits. FUNimation is primarily U.S.

With that rant off my chest, on with the cast! Now this might just be first episode jitters and all, but a lot of the voices here seemed very bland. And you know it’s gotta be that bad if even I am riffing on the voices…FROM JAPAN! Well, much like many other idol shows like Idolm@ster and Love Live, the voices for the girls are only going to be known for their Idol group work. With the exception of two girls, this is everyone’s first official anime role. Here’s everyone!

*Miu is played by Nagomi Saijou

*Sakura is played by Sally Amaki (known for Betsy on Kaguya-sama)

*Jun is played by Ruri Umino

*Reika is played by Chiharu Hokaze (known for Silvia on Fate/Grand Order)

*Akane is played by Kanae Shirosawa

*Ayaka is played by Reina Miyase

*Miyako is played by Mizuha Kuraoka

*Nicole is played by Mei Hanakawa

FAVORITE CHARACTER: Miu.

Prior to episode 11, it was more of a me connecting with this particular character due to having many introvert connections. But after Nicole’s flashback where Miu beats the crap out of a bully, Miu is best girl.

IDOL TROPES: So let’s see if 22/7 has the usual tropes normally seen in many other idol animes.

* A shy, introvert character (right from second one) * A bitch who thinks she knows all about the idol world (not as bad as Dia, but heavy on the bitch part, yes) * Shotty CGI for the dance scenes (right in the fucking opening) * Bikini episode (check) * One of the girls has a fuck-ton of siblings and is one of the most eccentric of the bunch (oh yeah) *A robotic character or IS A ROBOT (Akane is not a robot, but she’s monotone for like 96% of the series excluding flashbacks)

ENDING: It’s been close to one year since all eight of these girls were chosen for this “project” We’ve already seen back-stories/flashbacks of almost all of the girls (except for Nicole and Miu) and now 22/7 is about to prepare for their one year anniversary as a group. But then the wall gave out an order! And the plate simply read, “Disband”.

Could you be any more cliché?

Maybe it wasn’t obvious for you, but for me I knew that was coming. And no, this wasn’t a joke! There wasn’t smudge on the wall’s platelet. These girls are to disband, lie their way through a press conference explaining the disbandment, all the people a part of this experiment are out of a job, and the girls are to go back to their regular lives before any of this happened.

Can they though?

These girls just spent a whole year being thrust into a position they never expected to be in and leaving their families and future plans behind. These girls are late-teens; they’re trying to prepare for work or college! A lot of them even had to work through a lot of baggage weighing them down (particularly Jun, Akane, and Reika)! Then all of a sudden, the wall shits out an order and says to disband. There was nothing wrong with the higher-ups or the group. Everyone was now enthusiastic about doing everything possible to make 22/7 a household name. But because a fucking wall gave the command to disband, everyone’s gotta drop their shit, lose their income (which some people like Reika, Ayaka, and Miyako could use), and just pull-out of already planned events.

THEN, you make the girls lie their way through a press conference by giving vague answers to the media about the disbandment! In my opinion, the girls could have lied and said there was fall-out at the top and it was out of their hands. I know the girls can’t simply say, “the magical wall told us to disband and we can’t go against the almighty wall”.

Well, we’re about two episodes away from the finale and it’s about time to see the backstories of Miu and Nicole. Believe it or not, these two have a history that goes back a ways (though it seems like Miu doesn’t remember Nicole). Would you believe that Nicole was once a shy introvert with a stuttering complex? Yeah, it’s true. The character who was seen as a bitch from episode one was once a shy, introvert.

It wasn’t until Nicole was pushed to do something against her will and a little help from Miu that she was able to come out of her shell. But enough of the flashback!

It’s now one month since the girls were told to disband. And for one reason or another, all eight of the girls made their way to the old production building. I guess they were all feeling nostalgic for the one year they spent as idols. They have a good cry. And all of a sudden…

The wall spoke?!

The wall pretty much said that this was merely an experiment and when the girls asked to reunite, the wall denied them. So then Miu goes savage on the wall…

Okay, Miu is best girl of this series!

The other girls follow suit and break the wall, making an opening.

Once inside, the girls stumbled upon something quite disturbing. These girls have been tracked, not only throughout their idol careers, but before then too! There were shots of the girls when they were children! What kind of freakshow, One Hour Photo, Truman Show, fucked up shit is this?! This is all sorts of WRONG! How is this fucker not in jail? WHO IS THIS FUCKER?! No, I will not be quiet about this! Everything about this is so fucka wrong I can’t even! Who follows little girls secretly for most of their lives taking pictures of them? Let’s think about that…

*Perverts *Fucking perverts *R. Kelly *Oingo Boingo levels of perversion *State of Florida levels of perversion *Jefferey Epstein

New theory that goes along with old theory! Jefferey Epstein was killed in prison when his neck was snapped because AG Bill Barr sat on it. And before the devil sentences him to a lifetime of misery and woe, he gives him one last chance to atone for his actions. Instead, he stalks little girls in Japan. HOLY SHIT, THIS IS STARTING TO MAKE SENSE!

Medea…the review?!

Oh right!

The girls leave the disturbing room (never to be seen or talked about again) and I guess we’re never gonna get a clue on the identity of our pervert that hides behind a wall. They walk away and end up on a stage. And in the audience, were all their loyal and devoted fans. You see, they happened to gather on what was supposed to be their one year anniversary and their fans held out hope that they would still perform on their anniversary like they promised before the disbandment notice hit.

They performed. I guess 22/7 is back together. I guess we can disobey the wall just this once.

The wall shits out a new platelet saying add 3 more members.

We end seeing those three new girls that we may or may not see again. It depends on whether 22/7 was good enough to warrant a season two.

If the Jeffery Epstein rants weren’t an indicator, I was not fond of this series. Maybe I was just turned off at the concept of eight total strangers being told all of a sudden they’re idols because a fucking wall commanded it. I’m pretty sure it’s because of the storyline involving a wall and having to obey it. The songs were just okay, whenever we got to hear them. Unlike a lot of other idol animes, we really didn’t see a lot of performances from 22/7 outside of the opening and ending themes.

The one thing I was really invested in were surprisingly the flashbacks from all of the girls. A lot of these stories do lay on the drama really thick. But you really wish that everything’s gonna work out in the end. Like you really wish Miyako could see her biological father again or want a happy ending for Akane and her family. But then you get a back-story like Jun’s. Oof, that one was a gut-punch! I’m no fan of this show, but episode 7 is the go-to episode.

Now, I’ll watch 22/7 if it gets a season two. I try not to give up on an anime, no matter how much it annoys me. I like to see things through to the bitter end. But as for recommendations, there are far better idol shows to choose from.

Yes, I see that it’s a stretch to say there are GOOD idol shows. I know the stigma and hate that they get. But I am not one of those people. I thought Idolm@ster was okay. I liked Love Live just fine. UtaPri amuses me (and yes I count it as an idol show). Zombieland Saga, fuck yeah! This, not so much!

But if you want to watch, FUNimation has all 12 episodes available for streaming. And Crunchyroll has…a few as of this date and time. Again I point out that Crunchyroll couldn’t even get streaming rights to this until a full month after it began airing. Thanks again, Sony!

[official-astroboy]

antrán’s diary - part 1 AKA butterfly part V

i decided to make a diary 4 the process of my second album hahahaha - firstly a short introduction. I have been making music since 2016 in a real way and I already have enough material to release. Between 2018 and 2019 I made material for my first album titled "Truman" and I hope to release it this year, 2020. With this album, well, what can I say ... It has already been finished since december of last year, now a friend is helping me by editing the visual part of the album, which makes me very happy since precisely that part is where I have the most difficulties - There is already a lyric video ready, a visualizer is being edited and i'm recording things for two other songs so ... at least I will have something to show the world with the videos haha.this diary is to document what I've been doing with the second album (the one I've been creating since 2016) because I feel like I've put it off a lot [well, really lack of creativity with this album because Truman was done over a period of time really short] and I already have some stuff to start mixing and creating. May 2, 2020. Hello everyone. A couple of days ago I went back to see the files I have for the second album and recovered some that I thought had been definitively deleted - thank life and energy I found them, they are the best songs so far - and I started mixing another group of songs, which had already recorded the vocal part in January of this year [I actually re-recorded it, the first vocal takes were from 2018], those specific songs are "wss" "crater song" "grounded" and "red blue" - i'm satisfied with the result of the last two, "grounded" sounds like the end of an intergalactic battle and "red blue" sounds like a song that would be sung by the biggest pop star of any Saturnian moon. With the first two if I feel that I should improve something. I have more hope with "wss", it has material to be recoverable haha, I need to add a few verses and re-record the voice but everything is fine. "crater song" has been a complex song for me - I have rewritten the song 5 times and the vocal demo I recorded ended up being from a song I did as a child and ended up being acceptable with the instrumental, I feel like I must first improve the sound to the synthesizers because it is very badly mixed definitely - and the "beats" that I added yesterday I like them, I made them with my voice but they don't fit well with the song at all. What makes me rescue that song is the beautiful outro it has. That saxophone at the end after those synthesizers represent what I want everyone to feel when listening to the album. the other songs on the album that I have already mixed are "exodus" - a song that I left out for a long time but I took it up again and it's my favorite. "sauveteur" and "anhedoniac", what makes me sad about the latter is that there is a part where the beats don't sound good [they aren't the worst but they can make you deaf perhaps] and I lost the files of that song - the version that I have doesn't bother me, it's one of the songs that I enjoyed the most in 2017 but perhaps if it sounds annoying to others, I will see how that can be fixed in mastering - but with the others although I lost the files, I love how they ended up in the mixed version.I will try to make more progress over time. I hope this newspaper doesn't go beyond December 31 of this year. I have a lot of material that I can choose for this album and some ideas that i have for new songs so ... i hope creativity flows good next weeks. December 9, 2020. Well I totally forgot this really haha. But I really don't have much to comment on. In June I was able to finish a large part of this project, at the beginning of my quarantine I had written a song called "sleep forever" which had many experimentations since I changed the instruments a lot of times and I feel that the final version is the best, although if it is a little sonically removed from the rest of the album, it combines very well with the theme and I feel that if it is heard in its entirety in the right order, it will give an interesting feeling to the person who listens to it. at the same time I was able to finish a song that I had since 2017 called "jail to the moon" which I feel was one of the most "radiofriendly" songs instrumentally but the voice that I added gives a general opening to the chaos that comes within of my universe. I did it twice because the first time I did not keep the demo and I almost cried haha ​​but I managed to recover it and I perfected it. In the same way I re-wrote the lyrics of this song 3 times (I plan to add the missing parts in another song in the future, since they are lyrics that I really like). Regarding "WSS" I can say that if it recovered and I would say that it is one of my favorite songs on the album. I still don't know what to do with "crater song", I like it but I feel that it is less to keep it to myself. I write this since a few days ago I launched my first project "Truman" and I am happy about it. This other project will be totally different from what you will hear from Truman and I am being optimistic that I will be able to release it in the year 2021. I am brainstorming ideas for the cover art and this is why I have not released it yet. Meanwhile, enjoy Truman here at this link <3.

[bluepenguinstories]

Happiness Overload Chapter Sixteen

″Winry?″ Wheezed a tiny voice, uttered from one asleep for days.

Staring into the image of another may have conjured something. Whatever the word 'Winry' meant, it meant nothing to me. There may have been a loss for words, or a greeting to this awakened guest, such as a ″good morning.″ Instead, what was said was a far different reaction entirely.

″TRENT, YOUR PATIENT JUST WOKE UP AND CALLED ME WINRY!″

It's not like I didn't want to help people. It's just that all those years of medical school and interning in a hospital never prepared me for this.

I let out a professional sigh. When I lifted my head, she was standing right behind me.

″Would you like to meet them?″ She asked. I admit, I was curious. My more rational mind was telling me to seek the authorities, take this stranger to the hospital, but I knew she would insist that we keep this person here and recover, just as she's insisted every other time I tried bringing it up. Wonder what good sense has ever done when it comes to her.

″I suppose. I mean, I still can't believe all this is really happening,″ I muttered.

″Neither can I, but what can you do? They would be dead right now if not for us.″

From the sound of things, one couldn't be faulted for assuming a situation like this was from a TV show, and not real life.

Is this a Truman Show sorta thing? The Trent Show? That wouldn't make for a very good premise. The ratings would plummet fast.

Few paces through the hall, in the guest room of my apartment. That's where my 'patient' was resting. However, when I got there, they were sitting up with a perplexed expression fixed on their face.

″I tried clapping, but for some reason I couldn't move my other hand!″ They exclaimed.

″Not usually the reaction someone has upon finding out they've lost an arm...″ I blurted out.

They looked over, eyes widened. Shocked, surprised. Those were appropriate reactions.

″Well, how about that? I guess it's never too late to learn to write with your other hand,″ they observed, astonished, but still not reacting the way a normal person would.

She pulled out a chair and propped it up next to our guest. She sat down and folded her hands under her chin, presenting herself as some sort of researcher observing a creature in the wild.

″Tell me, what happened to you?″ She asked, straight and to the point.

″I'd love to!″ Burst the black haired stranger, still barely awake and yet so full of energy. ″...Except, I don't remember a goddamn thing!″ The patient laughed for a bit, then sighed.

″Nothing at all?″

″Well, okay, I remember bits and pieces. Memories are a tricky thing, aren't they?″

She nodded. I couldn't help but nod too.

″It's like a dream. If I don't focus on it, I'll forget it all. As it is now, there are only bits and pieces,″ they added.

″Could you tell me what those bits and pieces are?″ She requested, her voice soft enough that anyone denying such a request would be a fool.

″Something about time cube...non-euclidean architecture...pyramids...flashbulbs...″

Sounds like the ramblings of a conspiracy theorist, a thought barged in, not one I invited, but one that showed up nonetheless.

″What if I really did wake up from a dream?″ They added. ″What if I don't have any prior experiences, memories are just dreams, and here I am, being born for the first time? Born with only one arm. Isn't that just the saddest thing you ever heard? I don't have a life before, only dreams.″

They huffed and puffed, their breathing becoming intense.

″I don't think that's the case,″ she reassured, or dismissed. ″But I couldn't say for certain.″

″Yeah, that doesn't actually make sense,″ they agreed. So much for shock. Whoever this person was, they were more at ease over a situation that would have likely left most traumatized.

″Trent and I found you in a park. We thought you were a corpse. You were all bloody and torn up, missing your arm. Trent,″ she turned her head in my direction. ″Concluded that you were still alive, so I urged him to take you back to his place.″

″It's true,″ I chimed in. ″I didn't really have the space for it, and I was reluctant, but my sister-in-law can be quite stubborn.″

″Sister-in-law?″ They asked.

″Oh, it's nothing,″ she brushed aside. ″I'm just engaged to his sister.″

″I still can't believe it,″ I muttered.

She smiled. ″It is rather amazing, but what can I say? Sometimes these things just happen. You don't always know who you're going to fall in love with.″

″No, not that,″ I shook my head. ″My sister took a liking to you almost immediately. Talking about this person we took in.″

″Who? Me?″ They asked, trying to point to themselves, but with the missing arm.

″Yes. By all accounts, you should have died.″

″Trent! Insensitive!″ She scolded.

″Right. Where's my bedside manner?″ I scolded myself as well. ″I don't mean to be so blunt, but it's really quite the miracle.″

″Miracle or coincidence,″ she added. ″You're a doctor with enough medical supplies in your apartment to run a home clinic if you wanted to.″

″I just said I don't have the space for that! This room is tiny enough as it is!″

She huffed. ″I'm glad we were able to save a life, whoever this person may be. It may seem a little too convenient, but it would have put a damper on my day if I had to call the authorities because I found a corpse in the park.″

Neither she nor I know tact, do we?

Our unknown guest poked at their lump of flesh that was once an arm. ″It feels all weird and gross. Makes me uncomfortable,″ they traced their finger down a little through the air. ″My elbow was probably here.″

The sight was making me uncomfortable as well. She didn't seem fazed by it. For a second I thought she might have been amused, but if she was, that feeling passed as she ignored what she was seeing.

″Could you tell me your name?″

″Nope!″ They squeaked. ″I have no clue what it is! It's like I have selective amnesia or something. It's not like I've forgotten how to tie my shoes or anything, but my name? Oh yeah!″

This really is like the plot of a bad TV show, ran another thought, this one looking like it was gearing up for a marathon.

″It's like you're a blank slate,″ she stated.

″I'm here to chew ass and kick bubblegum!″ I exclaimed, my inner nerd getting the best of me.

She blinked. ″What?″

″You must not have been to that part of the 80s,″ I gave a playful scoff.

″Indeed. I don't get the reference,″ she nodded.

″They Live! One of the greatest movies of all time and definitely John Carpenter's best, hand's down! You gotta watch it sometime!″ I gushed.

″I'll look into it. Why do you bring it up?″

″The main character's like a blank slate as well! I forget the character's name, but who cares? It's got everything a good movie needs! Action, social commentary, wrestlers, one-liners, aliens, John Carpenter, you name it!″

No comment. Which meant I had no choice but to continue.

″It's about a stranger who shows up in a city and finds these glasses that shows the world being controlled by capitalism and the masses are all manipulated by consumerism and that the rich are aliens in disguise hellbent on keeping their power over humanity.″

″Dude. Spoilers,″ my patient scolded, who in my opinion, was angry over nothing.

″Doesn't sound far from the truth,″ she replied, her voice indicating an awareness I could never know. She turned her attention back to the patient.

″So, you don't remember your name. What if I were to give you one?″

″I wouldn't mind!″ They grinned.

″Very well,″ she let a smile slip as well. ″How does 'Blanc' sound? It doesn't quite sound the same as blank, but close enough, right?″

They laughed. ″Sure! And my last name could be 'Slait'!″

God, it would be so terrible if someone with that same name already exists, less a thought and more a tomato shot through a cannon found its way into the same room with the previous thoughts as my palm found its way onto my face, covering the entirety of it.

″Nice to meet you, Blanc Slait. You should get some rest. You're still recovering,″ she instructed, before leaving the room.

I felt awkward still standing there, so I did my best to say something.

″I know this all seems really strange, but we're good people. Things will get better for you, I'm sure of it.″

Blanc leaned forward, trying to move the stump that was once their arm.

″Oh shit, I can't give a thumbs up,″ they grimaced. ″The sentiment is there, I think...″

I tried to crack a smile, but couldn't.

″Strange things happen everywhere,″ they added. ″Just because you've encountered some things out of the ordinary doesn't mean you've experienced everything.″

″Why?″ Was the single word uttered by a gray mass of flesh. Or, if you could call it flesh. Whatever alien material it could be, it was what covered the body of the one who asked me the question. Whatever you want to call it, it was repulsive.

″WHY? BECAUSE I DON'T KNOW WHAT ELSE TO DO!″ I screamed.

I shrugged. My limbs were weak, but my will was strong. Right then, my will was telling me to shrug. So I did. This human's troubles were not my troubles. What other response was I supposed to give.

″You came to me asking for my help with the assumption that I could help you. You want to get out of here, back to the city you're from. You say you have no way to get here. You say I can help you. Assuming I can, I must ask again: why?″

Looks of desperation. That's what I noticed. Thin-skinned humanoid, malnourished, broken glasses, a shell. The shell spoke.

″I'll never come back here! I'll let all of you live!″

I shrugged again. ″Do you think I care whether or not you come back? Or whether or not any of us lives? I could die right now and I wouldn't have a single regret.″

″So then what? What do you want?″

That day was one for the record books. 'Shrugfest', they would call it. The most amount of times shrugged in a single day by yours truly, Tim.

″Why do you think I want anything? All I asked you is why.″

″Argh!″ The specimen roared, stomping and tearing out bits of hair. ″I don't get it, then! 'Why' what?″

Fourth time. You already know what.

″Why do you want to return?″

Deja vu struck.

″No, don't answer that. It's 'because I don't know what to do', isn't it?″ I asked, and if my body was a little less sluggish, I would crack a smile. ″Only before, you were thinking that I was asking 'why should I help you?' The funny thing is, your answer before is the same answer it would be now. Yes?″

″You know, I really hate you Beiges.″

″Beiges...Beige...some people really have trouble figuring out which one it is. I don't know why.″

″You think you're so funny, huh? You think you're so clever? All you guys ever do is smoke weed and not have individual names!″

″Excuse you. I don't smoke weed and my name is Tim,″ I corrected. I may not be one to get angry, but I would rather someone not spread false information.

″Are those your defining character traits? That's it? Honestly, how are you Beiges ever going to rule over humanity?″

″I'd like to think I have more individuality than my brethren.″

This human has the nerve to come to my room, invade upon my sheepskin rug, walk around my bowl of Cheerios, and accuse me of being like the ones downstairs? The audacity.

This bespectacled, disheveled creature drew a deep breath, then exhaled. While doing so, fingers fluttered about. It must have been some mating ritual for humans. I shrugged.

″Okay, okay. I need to calm down. Conrad, get a hold of yourself. You may have lost your leverage, you may have to resort to working with yet another enemy, but you can get through this,″ the being muttered to themselves.

″You already know, though, don't you? I mean, I'm only about to tell you this because I don't care and neither do the ones downstairs,″ I began. ″We are the last of our kind. What you see is what you get. There was a time when we were interested in ruling over Earth. We had many a great technology. We even worked, hand in hand, with The Flashbulb. But of course, they got greedy and stole from us and left us stranded. Sure, they've got plenty of smart people on their team, but they wouldn't have gotten nearly as far as they did if they hadn't taken our stuff.″

Conrad, I take it, pushed up their broken glasses, in what must have been a force of habit.

″Oh, I know. I also know there's something you're not telling me. But that's okay, because I already know.″

I sucked on a cheerio. It was a better use of my time than shrugging.

″I've seen leaked emails. You guys have bred with humans long ago. Who knows how many Beige humans there are out there, running amok, weaving a web over society from within? But I know one thing. One such offspring has made themselves very known.″

″You don't mean?″ I started shivering. No longer able to shrug it off. The implications...

I sucked on another cheerio in anticipation.

″Oh boy do I ever. I don't know how, but if you help me out, I can put a stop to this offspring.″

I tossed a handful of cheerios in my mouth and started sucking.

' ″You know, you're being awfully dramatic when everything's chill, right?″ I replied, mouth full of cheerios.

I could see Conrad ready to blow up.

″I can tell you how to get out of here,″ I offered.

″Oh, let me guess: out the front door?″ Conrad scoffed.

That was clever. Wish I thought of that.

″No, I was thinking more Cairo. I don't know how you'd get to your intended destination from there, but you're smart. You'll figure it out.″

I shrugged. That was an appropriate shrug. Been a long time coming.

″Knowing that there's a way fills me with determination!″ Conrad declared.

″See? Problem solved. Now, here's what you gotta do...″

″Sir?″ The word floated, images moved on well over a hundred small screens, all at my disposal. I was unsure whether or not I would be granted a response from my superior, but it was worth bringing up what I saw, all the same.

″What is it, private? Can't you see I'm busy stroking my mustache. My long, thick, pulsating mustache,″ he explained. As if he had any reason to. I did not need that image in my head and he knew it.

″Someone just tried climbing over the fence at our main gate.″

″Is that so?″ He asked.

″It's okay, though. They were shot down immediately. Didn't even make it far off the ground.″

″Why bring it up, then?″ He growled.

″It's the most activity we've had in a while. Someone must be off their rocker to think they can just climb over and waltz right in.″

I've seen this before, somewhere buried in my past. Just five years back. My underling, sitting at the desk, may not think much of it, but those memories still haunt me.

″In all my years, there has been but one who has broken in and lived.″

″Oh?″ Private Goodwill perked up.

″Yes, and if I ever see Jo-Ann again, I will be the one to personally execute her,″ I swore, yanking at my mustache with furor and ever increasing intensity.

″Right. The one that got away,″ Private Goodwill sighed.

″She made a disgrace of our very institution!″ I gritted my teeth. ″I remember it clear as day – all the new recruits lined up on the field. I was pacing about, examining each and every one of them. She was not among them. That should have been the first clue that something was off.″

I began. I would have preferred to suppress such memories, but once the blood starts rushing, it's hard to keep it all down.

″'Recruits!' I barked. 'From this day forth, you shall work around the clock, watching over this facility and all the equipment we keep. Although we have provisions in place to make sure no one gets in, or out, without our authority, as an added measure, each and every one of you will not have contact with the outside world. Internet and landlines will be strictly monitored. Anyone attempting to make contact will be executed with no remorse.'″

″I could sense the beads of sweat on each of their faces. Everything was going good. Fear had been established.″

″'Do I make myself clear?' I demanded. Before any of them could say 'Yes, sir', out of the corner of my eye, there she was, running forth. Failing to blend in with the crowd. Yet she wore the same equipment as the rest of us.″

″She bent to her knees, trying to catch her breath. When she finally stood up, she did the typical salute. 'Apologies! Couldn't find my way around! This place is like a maze!' I must have at least popped three veins. I couldn't believe it! That was her fucking excuse?″

Private Goodwill yawned. ″This is an excellent monologue, sir, but I'd really like to focus and make sure there are no more anomalies.″

He stared back at the screen, but my mustache and I would not allow such disrespect.

″There's not a lot to do around here, you know that as well as I do! Every portion of this facility is properly staffed to deal with each little thing. If I'm going to tell a story, I'm damn well going to tell a story.″

″Fine,″ Goodwill sighed. ″You've got me there. Continue.″

″So I made an example of her. It was the only way to contain my rage.″

″'What is your name, cadet?'″

″'Jo-Ann, sir!'″ She chirped. The tone was all wrong. Something didn't add up, and even though I didn't know what, I knew she was to blame.″

″'Well, Jo-Ann', I began, then pulled out my radio transceiver. 'Major Craft, please report to the barracks. We've got a case of insubordination'. After I put the transceiver away, I turned back to her. 'You're about to experience true fear.'″

″She smirked. 'What? Fear? And here I thought I'd love craft!'″

″I seethed. Grinding my teeth and hissing curse words under my breath. My mustache and I were in distress. Luckily, approaching from just out of the metal doors was Major Craft.″

″'Oh, you're in for it now', I told her. 'Those escorted by Major Craft experience torture beyond their wildest imaginations. Forget waterboarding, the things he'll do will make that seem like watersports! By the time we're through with you, you'll wish you had been killed.'″

″She smirked, but said nothing. The gall! It was like she wasn't even fazed by my speech. All the other recruits were quivering in their loins!″

″Well, yeah,″ Private Goodwill butted in. ″Major Craft's just some scrawny, old, white guy.″

My mustache and I would learn to ignore his comment. It was true, but Major Craft deserved more respect than that.

″He approached the line and croaked in his weary voice 'what seems to be the trouble, sergeant?'″

″'Cadet Jo-Ann here', I pointed to the perpetrator as I told him. 'Has shown my mustache and I the worst attitude. She must be thoroughly punished.'″

″He scratched his chin. 'Indeed,' he agreed. He shuffled on over to where Jo-Ann was and whipped out a metal rod, surging with electricity. He grabbed her arm with his free hand and proceeded to take her away.″

″She turned to me and grinned. 'Lemme guess,' she said. 'This is that trope where the guy grabs the powerful girl's arm and somehow she's powerless?'

″You know what I did, Private? I pulled out my assault rifle that was hanging off my back, and pointed it at her. I said: 'that's right! And if you don't go with Major Craft, I'll kill you right here on the spot. So don't fuck around!'″

″Wow. Must've given ol' Jo-Ann the heebie-jeebies,″ Private Goodwill replied, sounding unimpressed. I reached for my glock. If it wasn't for my mustache holding me back, I would have shot Goodwill on the spot. No one needed to look at so many monitors anyway.

I stared at the metal tiles underneath me. ″No,″ I muttered.

″You say something, Chief?″ Goodwill responded.

″God damn it! No! Jo-Ann wouldn't wipe that smug look off! Major Craft prodded her with the tranquilizing rod and that should have been the end of it. She winced and looked to over, convulsing, but maintaining composure. It made me sick. Like she just had to put on a show. 'Fine by me,' she heaved her words. 'I'll play along'.″

″That should have been the end of it. Major Craft grabbed Jo-Ann's arm and walked her back into the building where she would face unspeakable torture. I turned to the cadets and pointed my assault rifle at each of them. 'Let that be a lesson! If any of you speak out of line, walk out of line, do anything that does not align with our standards, you will be shot on sight, or worse!'″

″Hm. And that wasn't the end of it?″ Egged Goodwill.

″I thought it would be. I really did...″

I didn't like to show weakness. My greatest weakness, however, was this story that would haunt me to the grave. How I let such a miscreant get away, tarnish the reputation of Groom Lake, it besmirches the very name of Sergeant Michaels. I should have been demoted.

″Just as I was about to debrief the cadets and put that incident past me, I get something on my transceiver.″

″'Wanna help me knit a sweater?'″ the voice said. It sounded old, earthen. World weary. As if to imitate Major Craft. But I knew better. Major Craft's voice was more like an aged wine mixed with the sweat of my mustache.″

″Ew,″ Private Goodwill commented. I would be sure to shut him up very shortly.

″'What?!' I barked. 'The fuck is this? Where is Major Craft?'″

″That crotchety old bag?' The voice revealed its true colors, belonging to the one who called herself Jo-Ann. 'Shot him. Did you really expect me to comply? That ain't me. I just needed a way to get in.'″

I cleared my throat. Was about to choke. ″'Who are you really?' I demanded.″

″The voice snickered before saying: 'Just your friendly neighborhood fabric store. Now if you excuse me, I have a ship to steal!'″

″Isn't this place like, worse than Fort Knox or something, though?″ Goodwill pondered.

″That's what it should be! And yet this person calling herself Jo-Ann not only got in, but killed Major Craft, and stole a ship! We sent hundreds of soldiers, lasers, drones, but she was nowhere to be found! It was like we were dealing with a ghost!″

″That's all very interesting, sir, but Major Craft is still alive. I just saw him last week. Still old, but alive.″

″What? You dare disrespect the dead? My mustache and I will not tolerate --″

″Furthermore, sir, as great as your story was, I remember a Jo-Ann that you personally trained. She started as a cadet, went through the ranks, eventually became a Lieutenant, and earned your respect. She even seemed well on her way to surpassing you.″

I paused. It was coming back to me. Why I remembered things the other way...it didn't make any sense. It was as if I had two different instances of the same person.

″One day, she just vanished and you vowed to kill her if you ever saw her.  Ever since her disappearance, you tell a different story about her, which is weird, but I listen because every time because you threaten to kill me.″

My mustache twitched. So did my trigger finger.

Before I could reach for my assault rifle, the lights flickered. An unusual thing for a place such as this. Private Goodwill noticed the anomaly too.

″So much for florescent,″ he joked. Something was amiss. Before I could comment, everything went dark.

″Hey!″ The voice receiver on my Prinny armor reacted. ″The power cut out. I think there's been a break in! The sensors are definitely picking up something!″

In just a second, the backup generators would pick back up, and just as they would, I would already be well on my way to catching the culprit.

″Thank you, Clippy,″ I replied to the voice at the other end of the receiver.

There was a heavy sigh. ″For the last time, that's not my name.″

I ignored it and went out into the halls. I had a gut feeling who was behind all this. After all these years...

″Jo-Ann...″

Someone climbed over the electric fence. Or tried. They didn't get very far before getting shot down. They would've been a goner anyway what with the fence being electric and all. Never understood fanatics, if we're being honest. Some people just want to see what those soldiers are guarding. If they knew the truth, they would be unimpressed. Or wouldn't know what to do with said information.

There were a few cars huddled out. No one seemed the least bit concerned about the person who was just shot.

This really is like a tourist trap, I couldn't help but think.

I watched the scene unfold from a safe distance with the camera, using it as a sort of binoculars. Not the intended use, but it wasn't like I was about to take pictures.

I looked behind me before making my way to the place that could have very well spelled my death.

My eyes grew wide.

The forest was no more.

Back to desert plains.

″No need to mull over such things,″ I shook my head and groaned. ″I've gotta go and get myself into trouble.″

″Huh?″ I remarked.

The highway close to our base transformed within an instant into a forest. No explanation, no forces of our own at work.

″Did any of you guys see that?″ I leaned into my computer and asked around.

I got a few responses from other departments in the facility, each saying they did, but weren't responsible. Of course they weren't. None of us were. If someone here was, I would have known about it.

″Sarge, did you see this?″

No response. I overheard the Sergeant recite his Jo-Ann story. When will the muscled idiot get it through his thick mustache that Jo-Ann was just an alias? I tuned him out and switched channels, eavesdropping my way to two soldiers discussing their lives before coming here. Husbands, wives, kids, friends, all that jazz.

″Should have thought about that before you signed on for this place,″ I put in my two cents.

″Huh?″ The two soldiers looked around.

Crap.

″Sorry, guys, didn't think you guys would hear me.″

Should really be more careful. Here I thought I was the tech genius.

Private Goodwill is Sarge's right-hand-man, but his cameras only pick up the general vicinity. I could see and hear the surrounding areas inside and outside. Nothing was off limits. In fact...

″I see you, you little raccoon,″ I whispered. This time also making sure not to have the receiver on so others wouldn't hear.

I grabbed a chunk of beef jerky and bit in, yanking and gnashing away at the juicy bits. Some beef was sure to get stuck in my teeth, but it wasn't like I was here to look pretty.

When I looked back up, she was gone. Faded from view.

″Oh, good going, you let her get out of your sights,″ I gave my arm a light punch.

No matter. I'll catch you, my pretty. And your little dog, too...

As I had that thought, my mind no longer thinking of espionage, Wizard of Oz, or 'Africa' by Toto, and instead thinking how nice it would be to see rain again, the lights flickered.

My monitors dimmed for just a bit. All the lights went out.

″Hey!″ I called out to whoever might listen. Maybe the Sarge was done with his story by now. ″The power cut out. I think there's been a break in! The sensors are definitely picking up something!″

Only a few seconds later, everything was back up. Nothing could keep us down. Yet if someone was able to turn off the electricity, that meant they were able to get in, and if they were able to get in...

″I know what you're trying to do, and it won't work.″

″Wow...″

Velvet was no longer in view. Wherever she was, I hoped that she would be happy. Part of me wished she had stayed with Euphoria and felt the rush of happiness that I felt. Another part of me was too happy to care.

I looked up. The branches of the tree extended past my view. The clouds shifted, the sky was a nice, crisp blue.

″I can't believe this is happening...″ I muttered. My breath made a fog. The desert heat was in full effect and yet in the arms of Euphoria I felt a chill as if it were winter.

″WHAT DO YOU MEAN?″

″Here with you, the one I had been searching for all this time, and now I don't have to do anything else. I could spend eternity with you.″

I looked over to the wreckage of Art's car. Somehow it passed my mind that he had even died. It seemed rude of me, and yet I couldn't break free of what I was feeling.

″Shame what happened to Art, though. Wish he didn't have to die...″

His car went up in flames, as if to add insult to injury.

″FLAMES MAKE THE CAR HAPPY!″

I winced. Euphoria looked down. She must have noticed my dismay.

″WOULD IT MAKE YOU HAPPY IF ART WAS ALIVE?″

″Well...″ I didn't say yes or no. I didn't have to.

Emerging from the flames was a thick shadow, forming into view the figure of Art, a chubby backpacker and fan of cryptids, now seemingly the subject of his own fanatacism. He motioned toward me, looking just like I imagined his burning corpse would look.

He stared at me, leaned over, hands on hips, inches away from my face. I could smell his breath. Minty, with a hint of decay. He opened his mouth wide to form a toothy grin, or as toothy as it could be with many teeth missing, chipped, or covered in blood.

″MOTHMAN?″ He bellowed, only it was too high pitched to be considered a bellow. In fact, it resembled the voice I associated with Euphoria more. I turned to her, my face dull.

″Put it back,″ I requested.

She grinned as well and it felt like her grin would swallow me whole. When I turned back over to see if Art would be grinning as well, he was gone. In fact, the car was still burning. The forest looked like it was about to catch fire. I was left to wonder if such an encounter actually happened.

″WHAT WOULD MAKE YOU HAPPY RIGHT NOW?″ Euphy asked me. Heh. Euphy. Been a while since I even thought of such a nickname.

″I don't know. I'm just happy to be here with you.″

It felt strange of her to ask. As if she wouldn't know.

I held her tight. Or she held me tight. I wasn't sure which of us did the holding.

″Do you love me?″ I asked. I didn't know why.

She jolted up, let go of me, and stood up. Still beaming, a glowing ray of light surrounding her.

″OF COURSE! I LOVE YOU AND YOU AND YOU AND YOU AND CONRAD AND CONRAD AND VELVET AND VELVET AND KELLY ROGER AND MARCO AND ART AND TRENT AND ETNA AND ECSTASY AND TIM AND...″ She kept listing names, but after Tim I lost track. Half of those names I didn't recognize, and I was a little confused by the multiple mentions of some of us. I thought I understood the multiple mentions of me, but as for the others...

I looked over. She was still counting names on her fingers. Except with each new name she grew a finger. She must have had hundreds of fingers at that point. She was still counting.

″That's a lot of love...″ I joked.

″OF COURSE!″ She countered, still as brimming with joy as ever. ″LOVE IS THE BEST! ESPECIALLY THE KIND THAT MAKES YOU HAPPY! THE WORLD CAN LOVE! THE WORLD CAN BE HAPPY! I JUST KNOW IT!″

My eyes widened. That's right. I forgot. The Beige. What they told me about Euphy.

″Or...″ I mused, hoping wit would be on my side. ″maybe it's enough to just make one person happy.″

″NONSENSE! HAPPINESS IS A GIFT! GIFTS ARE MEANT TO BE SHARED!″

″Can you share that gift with me just a little longer?″ I was being selfish, or maybe I didn't want the world to fall in such a disarray. My mind couldn't tell the two apart at that moment.

She held me once more, and I held her. There was a certain warmth in the air. It could have been that the forest was burning around us, or it could have been the way she made me felt. Considering what she was capable of, it was probably both.

If I just keep holding onto Euphoria forever, maybe then, I'll be happy.

When I opened my eyes, we were still holding onto each other. Her embrace meaning everything. We were no longer in the forest. Or we never moved away from the forest. But we were somewhere else. The vastness of space. Or complete nothingness.

″How am I alive right now?″

″WE'VE BEEN HUGGING FOREVER! ETERNITY OBTAINED!″

I wanted to freak out. I wanted to do something. But I was so calm. Everything was over, but us. We were still alive, or maybe we weren't alive at all. I couldn't tell the difference. I was so happy.

But...

It didn't feel right.

″Can we go back to that moment in the forest?″ I asked, although I don't think my mouth moved the entire time.

She nodded her head with such vigor. Before I could even close my eyes, if they were ever open to begin with, we were back.

I held her tight. Such a being with infinite power and somehow I still wasn't satisfied.

″Why? Why am I not satisfied?″

″YOU'RE WORRIED!″ She squeaked.

″How? What?″ I just had more questions.

″IT'S OKAY! YOU DON'T NEED TO WORRY, THOUGH!″

″But why? What am I worried about?″

″YOU DON'T FEEL LIKE YOU'VE EARNED THE RIGHT TO BE HAPPY! BUT YOU DON'T NEED TO EARN HAPPINESS!″

She was right. I didn't know how, I didn't even know that about myself, but there was no denying it.

″You're right. You're wonderful.″

″I'M A GUARDIAN ANGEL!″

″I just hope Velvet will be okay.″

″SHE WILL BE HAPPY!″ Euphy cheered.

This put me on edge. ″Will she? Even if she dies?″

″DYING IS OKAY IF YOU'RE HAPPY!″

It was my turn. I let go of her. Something brought me back to reality. I shook my head at such a notion.

″No! I won't be happy if she dies!″ I protested.

I took it one step further and got up to my feet. There was definitely a forest fire, but it seemed to avoid us. Not even the smoke dare come near us.

Euphoria stood up as well. Towering over me, becoming as tall as the tree we were once laying under. She leaned down and with her mile wide grinned, spoke:

″WOULD YOU OPPOSE HER HAPPINESS IF IT MEANS SHE LIVES?″

″Yes,″ I closed my eyes and looked up as I spoke the one word that surprised me to say. ″Happily.″

It felt like I added that last bit in to mock her, and yet I didn't mean it that way. Upon opening my eyes, the thing standing in front of me was a creature of indecipherable shape, emitting a foul odor. Millions of arms stretched forth, all with blades for fingers. They all struck me right in the chest, and blood spilled from every orifice. I blinked.

Her warmth was with me once more. She was just as tall as me, in her angel costume and all. Her arms wrapped around my back, her human face nestled against my chest, no blood to be found.

″IF IT WILL MAKE YOU HAPPY, THEN I WILL SAVE HER!″ She declared.

″Actually, could I do this on my own?″ I begged. ″I don't want to rely on you.″

″VERY WELL!″

″Thank you. I hope to be with you once more when I'm ready. Whenever that may be.″

″YOU WILL ALWAYS BE WITH ME! YOU ARE ALREADY EUPHORIA! WHATEVER WILL MAKE YOU HAPPY, I CAN DO!″

I ran off, jumping for joy, kicking my shoes together in the air.

Before the flames could swallow me whole and I either suffocated on the fumes or burned alive, I yelled to her.

″Oh! One request: can you take this fire away? Actually, can you return this to a highway?″

She grinned.

Pressing forward, I ran through dirt, off the side of the road.

Cameras everywhere. Somehow I got the feeling they didn't know where I was yet, but they would soon. I would make sure of it.

I tried opening the breaker on the wall, but no dice. It was locked up with some kind of code. If I had my laptop with me, this whole operation would be a piece of cake. But seeing as I just had to go and make things harder for myself, I would have to make do with the ol' McGuyver method.

″The cameras seem to be picking up an unidentified presence...″ a soldier reported, and if memory served me, to nothing but thin air. As air tight as security should be, everyone is lost in their own little worlds.

Once said soldier came around the corner, with their heavy armor resembling the kind those militarized police wore back in the city I was living underground a few years back, I pulled their arm and kneed them in the face. They grabbed my leg and threw me to the ground. I hissed in pain, but could at least count my lucky stars that my kick managed to knock the soldier's helmet right off.

″Report! Requesting backup!″ The soldier leaned their head into their shoulder and wheezed those words. After making the damning report, they reached over and pointed a heavy rifle with some kind of liquid flowing through in a clear canister. It was something out of a video game, only it was staring me right in the face.

Before I could be blasted into nothingness, I grabbed the rifle with my own hands and shoved it in the soldier's face, knocking them back.

″Oh god oh god oh god...″ I stuttered and repeated back and forth, breathing out of control.

Did I just kill a guy? Who knows? All I know is that this has NOT been my week.

Also I knew one more thing: I had to get a move on, as back up was sure to arrive any second.

I checked for a pulse and let out a sigh of relief.

Within the moment, three soldiers arrive in the same hall, each carrying the same weapons. I'm sure at least three more were going to show up behind me. Good for those blokes. I shoved the rifle against the breaker and pulled the door open.

Buttloads of levers, buttons, and wires. My mind was racing too much.

I stood back and tossed the remaining contents of the canteen at the breaker. No dice, so I rammed the rifle into the breaker, and at once the whole thing blew out.

First a flicker. Then surrounded by darkness. The soldiers started taking their shots, but they each fell over at once, the armor I stripped from one of their brethren caught them all by surprise. They shot into the air, but by then, I shoved past them, stolen rifle still in my hand. I didn't intend to kill, but I was sure I could make use of it somehow.

Bright blue lights came into view.

Goodbye darkness, my old friend, I thought, reciting a song that had nothing to do with my situation.

I knew the power would be back on before long, but damn. Before I knew it, an alarm was sounding and commotion could be heard throughout. I had to use this to my advantage.

″The fuck? How did she manage to throw a prinny set with such force?″ I overheard the yelling.

I'd like to say I was on PCP, but I owe it all to the adrenaline rush I'm feeling.

″There's a fire! She must have be close!″

Well, you aren't wrong.

The fire was a mixture of the sleeping bag and an electrified current.

From what I gathered, they thought I was running toward where I actually came from. What idiots. They were giving me more credit than I was worth. Here I was being all ″metal gear solid″ and crawling in some fucking air vents and they couldn't put two and two together. I mean, I wasn't disappointed to be alive, but you'd really expect more from a top secret facility, y'know?

Mist poured through the vents.

Of course. They know I'm here. Of-fucking-course.

Poison gas. They were hoping to lure me out. To shoot me. Or if they think I won't come out, I'd succumb to the poison. Or if I tried to hold my breath, if I tried to keep myself from getting too exposed, I would suffocate.

With the rifle, I pried the closest vent door open. I tossed it down.

Gunfire erupted from every angle on the floor. My ears rang and might have kept ringing well after the ordeal was over, if I were to survive, in any case.

I peeked down and noticed turrets popped out of the floor.

Couldn't be assed to use real people, I see.

To the right of me was a panel. Some kind of code prevented me from opening it. If I could just think, just for a little bit, I was sure I could open it. The gases were getting to my brain. They would leak out into whatever room the gun fell into, but they were also leaking into my nervous system. My eyelids...

″Jo-Ann! I know you're near!″ Roared a voice I hadn't thought about for ages. That same voice also gave me the jolt I needed to keep moving.

I took a sharp turn through the vents and kicked down the door below. The mist was still getting to me, I knew, but even with my vision blurred and my hands shaking, I managed to pull out the camera and look down. No soldiers. No turrets. Sure, they would detect me just by entering wherever I was about to enter, but it was better than staying cooped up.

When I dropped down, it wasn't a smooth landing. All the blows I've taken that day, the ″car door surfing″, the fight with the soldier, the poison gas, it was all getting to me. My body swayed and my legs wobbled just trying to stand up.

″Jeez, no more rush, huh?″ I mumbled. I hoped no one could hear me. I'm sure, someone, somewhere could see me. ″I'm in the lion's den. I shouldn't have expected things to be easy.″

Around me were rows of lockers. Maybe I could have stolen a new suit of armor in one of them. Or some other nice equipment. Some aspirin. Some antidote. Something to think a rational thought.

Before I could look, though, a door slammed open.

″Jo-Ann! There you are! You thought you could hide from me?!″

I heaved and huffed, my breathing labored. I wiped the saliva from my mouth.

″Can you keep it down? I've got a real bad headache,″ I groaned in response to the raging bull charging toward me.

″Ha! Very funny! Ever the comedian, aren't you?″ Emerged Sgt. Michaels, donning a prinny armor, sans helmet. His thick, black mustache would haunt me to the day I die. His bloodshot eyes...weren't remarkable in the slightest.

I charged at him, feeling tipsy, and attempted to flip him over. Instead he grabbed my arm and held me up.

″What do you know? You really ARE powerless when I grab your arm!″ He growled and gave a hearty laugh for extra measure. I squirmed, his grip tightening. ″You've lost your touch, haven't you? Have you gain weight?″ He mocked me before tossing me across the room, my back slamming against a wall.

″Oh, I'm going to kill you, you can mark my words. But I don't need my guns,″ he tossed his rifle, and a pistol to the side. ″All I need are my bare fists.″

Sgt. Michaels. Well respected ball of rage and a lumbering idiot. I'm sure anyone could see where this was going.

I reached back. The camera was smashed. Glass lens broken. I wondered how many bones of mine were broken as well, if any.

″The funny thing is, you could have lived! The US government stopped caring! You became a non-issue! You're smart, you could have faked an ID, a social security card, something, and gotten yourself a good profession and lived out the rest of your life content! But you just HAD to go and sabotage that for yourself by coming here!″ He ranted before being the one to charge at me.

I got to my feet and swerved out of the way, holding glass shards of the camera in my hand.

″You just don't get it!″ I screeched. ″Self-Sabotage IS my profession!″

Couldn't take a plane. Had no money. No passport. Ended up stowing away in the cargo bay of a cruise ship headed to New York. Still a far cry from where it all began, but I was well on my way.

But why?

The thought told hold. Possessed me. I wanted to put up a sign, telling it that my place of business was closed. That I was no open to constructive criticism.

I unzipped someone's luggage. Snacks of various sort. The kind processed and contaminated with chemicals to control the world's population. The kind Kelly Roger and Velvet had no problem polluting themselves with. I had neither of them by my side at this point. Not even Blanc, in any form or degree of quality.

Where did I go wrong?

Oh, somewhere around the second or third rewrite.

My stomach growled, but I had to resist the urge. Even as I lost everything, I had to keep some of my convictions.

And what would those conditions be?

I opened someone else's luggage. There were fruits; apples, pears, donut peaches...just looking at them made me salivate. It was so tempting, but then I remembered all the pesticides that were sprayed and how most of them were probably clones of each other and not 'natural' fruit. My hunger was enough to disregard that fact for only a second, but I showed restraint.

If I had a computer with me, I could order food from the deep web. But where would I send it to? What am I going to do about food? Maybe I'll resort to cannibalism.

I pinched myself and got to my feet. Just up the stairs were humans, if they could even be called that. I knew for a fact that they were clones. Not even the guards were exempt. They were all filth. Human in name only. Once I get back to the city, I could turn back time, make it so that those abominations never existed. I would find a better Blanc, be upfront, tell them everything.

″There has been an intruder spotted on the ship!″ A voice on the intercom blared. My heart leaped, I turned cold. Colder than I already was. Guards were running my way.

They're going to send a coast guard. Arrest me. No, worse. Once they realized who I was, it was all over for me. They would kill me. Everyone in authority has a connection to The Flashbulb and they must have finally realized that I was never on their side, but using their technology for my own means. I was never a good swimmer, so jumping overboard isn't an option. But I can't allow myself to be captured...

Think, think...

This is a cruise ship. There will be rooms. Cameras all over, but...if they never see me leave the storage bay, and if I can mix in with a crowd, then maybe...

His fists, enhanced with the prinny armor, made the wall crumble. I had to roll once more just to avoid the debris. I rolled further back so he couldn't kick me, knowing him enough that he would try something like that.

I put the glass shards in my pocket and  hanging from the ceiling, climbing a locker and reaching a lampshade.

″She's maneuvering upward,″ I heard a voice speak to Sgt. Michaels. ″I suggest you grab your gun and shoot her while you can.″

″No need,″ he responded. I reached for a glass shard and before I could move further up, a large chunk of debris hit me in the back and sent me falling back to the floor. But before I did so, I intended to leave my mark. I reached and with all my strength, plunged the glass shard in his forehead.

He grabbed my wrist and tried to slam me into the ground, but I swung forth and shoved my legs into his stomach, then with my other hand, pushed the glass shard further.

He let go and started wailing. I dropped down and limped toward his guns.

″She's headed toward...″ The voice began.

″FUCK! I KNOW!″ He yelped.

I could hear his heels. He was charging toward me. I took a quick peek and saw the blood seeping from his forehead. Another roll out of the way and as I made my way to my feet, I pointed the pistol I had stolen. I had just one chance. He was in my sights.

Total darkness. Shot across each one.

I darted toward the next door before I lost sight of where it was.

″She just turned out the lights. She's making her escape.″

″Not on my watch,″ I heard a grunt.

″Maneuver around, the pillar is in front of you.″

Whoever was instructing him was being a real pain in the ass.

This really is Velvet's No Good, Horrible, Very Bad Day, huh?

I was already in the next room over. More lockers. No soldiers. While I would have loved to thank my lucky stars, I began my counterattack by opening each locker I came across, using a bobby pin.

″Fuck's she doing?″ I heard not far from behind me.

Of course. Cameras everywhere. Hidden, too. No way to know where to shoot to destroy them.

″I respected you!″ I heard a roar. He was on my trail. ″But now I have to kill you!″

″She grabbed a dress? The fuck? Also, just so you know, sarge, she's already in another room.″

I swear, I won't die until I find whoever's feeding Michaels that information. Snitches get stitches.

″We're no strangers to this place!″ His voice echoed through every hall I passed. ″You know the rules and so do I!″

″Yeah, yeah, a full commitment's what you're thinking of!″ I yelled back, unsure if he actually heard me.

″You could have killed me! What's the matter? Have some kind of 'no-kill rule'?″

My god, he was ever so loud.

That's not it at all. I just get squeamish seeing corpses.

My head was pounding. My mustache grew brittle, tasting the blood from my forehead. It mingled with my sweat and both my sweat and blood were unhappy with what transpired. I vowed to kill Jo-Ann should the two of us cross paths, and in spite of my vow, yet again she got away.

″Clippy, come in, where is she now?″

No answer. I growled and pressed forward.

I was impressed, but her luck was about to run out.

So I thought, until she looked up and winked, as if to know I was watching, and began to put on the dress, disregarding the danger she was in.

My face grew red and I paused before looking away. When I looked back, she disappeared. I could hear her footsteps, but couldn't tell what direction.

I slammed my fists against the desk and started scanning the monitors.

″Sarge...″ I spoke into the microphone. ″She's close...″

″It's about god damn time!″ He barked. ″What took you so long? Don't you know this is serious business? Here I am hightailing my ass --″

I cut off the feed.

″Yeah, yeah, trespassing is a big deal, I get it,″ I muttered. ″Now let's see...″

I sat atop a table, applying makeup to my face.

″There you are!″ A soldier, not clad in prinny armor, but instead old fashioned tactical gear barged in, pulse rifle pointed at me.

Works for me, I thought.

″Like what you see?″ I teased. For a second, the soldier's weapon lowered before I saw their head shake and pointed the weapon once more, fingers inching on the trigger.

″Fine,″ I huffed. ″Have it your way.″ I dived behind the table, leaned it to the side, and rammed it into the soldier. Their weapon lowered, and before they could make any other moves, I reached for a taser I had grabbed from one of the lockers, removed the soldier's helmet, and charged it into the soldier's neck.

Once I was sure they were unconscious, I let go.

″You weren't my type, anyway.″

″She's approaching a computer lab,″ I informed Sgt. Michaels. Maybe I could get back into his good graces. I wished he would have just killed her when he had the chance and gotten it over with. His vendetta was ruining our success.

″Thanks, babe,″ a hoarse and rough voice, but on a higher register than the sarge's came in.

″You!″ I hissed. The one sarge was trying to kill.

″Nice to meet'cha! Can't wait to see you in person!″ She joked. It was grating. To think, after all she's endured, she still had the nerve..

″You think you're so clever? You're nothing without your technology!″

″To be fair, same could be said for you guys,″ she shot back.

I could hear the stamps of feet, click-clacking.

Her voice came on the receiver once more. ″Go ahead and tell Michaels where I'll be.″

″Sarge! She's...approaching my room...″

″Whoa, buddy!″ Someone rolled their windows down and stopped their car. I stopped to catch my breath. Desperate, I thought of asking the driver if they had any water.

″What'cha doin' runnin' 'cross the highway?″ The driver asked, their voice sounding like one of those surfers in California. The car stunk of weed, which made me want to cry. I missed being with the Beige and listening to their stories.

″Trying to get to Area 51,″ I pointed forward, probably looking like an idiot in the process.

″Far out! Same here, brah! Wanna lift?″

I wanted to say yes, but then I thought of Art. What trouble I got him into and now he's...hopefully...still a corpse.

″No thank you. I'd rather go it alone. Kinda need the exercise.″

The driver looked confused. I didn't know what to say. I don't think the driver did either.

″Uh...if you want to help, maybe you can spare some water?″

″Totes, brah! Gotta bottle here!″ I was thrown a bottle of water. Plastic bottles weren't really my thing, but I shrugged. Water is water.

″Thanks, uh, 'bra'?″ I didn't understand why surfer dudes liked to refer to people as underwear. Perhaps that was just one of those unsolved mysteries that went even deeper than such things as Area 51.

″No prob! Hang loose, brah! Gonna go hop the fence!″

I waved as the stranger drove past. Maybe it was stupid of me not to catch the ride, but I wasn't about to endanger someone in my own quest. After a few gulps from the bottle of water, I went back to running toward the facility.

Please be okay, Velvet, I thought. I had nothing to help her, but that wasn't going to stop me. I would ask Euphoria for help if I had to, even going against my previous word. Something Euphoria had said was nagging at me.

Would you oppose her happiness if it means she lives?

I stopped in my tracks.

″No way...″

She left much of her equipment on the ship. She was planning on going there from the beginning. She's trying to get herself killed.

″Even if that's the case, I won't let it happen,″ I declared and pressed on.

″What are we doing in this parade, anyway?″ Kelly Roger asked.

Balloons, floats, dancers, candy and confetti. I looked around with shame. Such shame that I was posing as a composer for a marching band and forced myself into watching such happy people. Joy on each and every face. Even the town crier, Kelly Roger, smiling ear to ear, even while trying to deny it.

The timing was off. It would fall into place, but I had to stall. Thinking about it all, I started to have second thoughts about the very thing I spent years putting into motion. Different series of the same events started to roll out. End credits in the middle of a film. Stay tuned for the sequel, where the exact same thing happens, in reverse order...

″Do you think it's right for me to insert myself into all these lives?″

″Um...Marco?″

I knew what would transpire given enough time.

″Please, call me Belial.″

Kelly Roger's head shook.

″I don't get it, but okay.″

I got out an umbrella. About a mile away, a building exploded. Police rushed to the scene. Soon they would declare it a terrorist attack. All the whole, the parade would go on, those overseeing the show not wanting to upset the masses. Not that they could be upset, anyway.

″I've got frogs in high places,″ I explained to Kelly Roger, before opening the umbrella and stepping out of the parade.

Merrily, merrily, merrily. Life is but a dream...

A mother whispering to a child. Faded scene. Cradle or a twin-size bed. Face blurred out. Whispering a lullaby. Soon the child drifts back to sleep.

″Fear not,″ she says. ″You won't remember any of this.″

Much taller. Whispering back.

″What is there to remember?″

″There was something you were doing. You came here for a reason. You had a quest. You failed your quest. But it's O.K. You can rest.″

Silver hair. Black hair. Blurring and meshing. Wires in the frame, wires above the bed. Ornaments or dried parts of sacrificed animals. Looking back up at the comforting face. Not a face at all. Silver with black streaks or black with silver streaks.

Zebra? Or sick horse?

Child running, two feet taller than before. Bed shrinking.

Running a fever.

I jolted up, the blanket sliding off of me, bandages revealing themselves, and a pain shooting through my arms. I looked beside myself.

Just one arm.

The dream, it was fading. But what was said was a lie. I remembered. Maybe not what I needed to remember, but I remembered something. Tears welled up in my eyes. The darkness surrounding me meant no one else was around to see or hear me.

″I failed my quest...″

″Who might you be?″ I stood outside the door, pistol pointed at the glass. Sitting down at a desk situated with many monitors was a girl, blue hair, like raspberry cotton candy. Obviously dyed.

″Mavis,″ she replied, not even giving me any mind. I couldn't open the door without a code. Not that I gave a damn. All I needed was for her to know that I meant business.

″Ha! What kind of name is that?″

She sighed. ″My parents named me after Mavis Beacon, their favorite typing application. They thought typing was the way of the future. Taught me to type with many keyboards starting when I was about four years old.″

″Wow, embarrassing.″

″And you?″

″I'm V—″

″Velvet. I know. I was just trying to humor you.″ I was taken aback, but I tried to play it cool.

″Actually, I was going to say Viola, but that works too.″

″You probably figure you're fine now that you found me,″ she changed the subject. Now that I gave her a good look, I could tell there were some serious eye baggage. ″I'll give you credit, most people can't even get near our facility without getting killed.″

″Helps that I've been here before,″ I replied with a shrug.

″You're not safe. Any minute now, the Sergeant will find you, and if he doesn't finish you off, I have lasers ready to fire at my command.″

″Oh yeah. That guy. You two seem to be real buddy-buddy. Are you guys some kind of item?″

She scoffed. ″Oh, please. I'm a lesbian.″

I pretended to get out a notepad and jot that down, using the pistol I was carrying as a makeshift pen.

″What are you doing?″ She squinted.

″Just filling out your character bio.″

″Is this all a joke to you?″

″Just need a bit of levity to keep myself sane.″

″In that case, you're going to need all the humor you can. You can't keep yourself sane. You had no reason to return to this place, and yet here you are, and for what reason?″

″That's for me to know and you to never find out.″

She scoffed and looked back at her monitor. Not very pleased with my answer, I see.

″You're probably thinking that we're so similar.″

Actually, I was thinking, if I had her setup, I'd obliterate her.

″But you wanna know the difference? I don't have to be a troll to be happy.″

″What's that supposed to mean?″

″I'm just fine keeping my mouth shut and putting my skills to use. You, on the other hand, go looking for trouble.″

″Keeping your mouth shut? That's no way to live.″

″That's how you get a pay check.″

I gave her a smug look. ″I've found I don't need one of those to survive.″

″Oh? Like you're doing right now? Is the life you've been living really surviving? Living underground with a paranoid freak and a fanatic? Stealing a home to give to a homeless man just so he can deliver you food in return?″

″How do you...?″ I stopped. This was all wrong.

″We could have killed you any time. Drone strike, raid, you name it. Do you remember the raid that drove you out?″

″I thought those were mercenary police officers working for the ETNA Corporation.″

She smiled, tore a piece of beef jerky, and smacked her gums while she chewed.

″ETNA couldn't care less about you. Of course, your crimes could not be overlooked. We had that old man executed as soon as you left.″

″No...″

″Surprised? You've been off the radar for three years. What do you care, anyway?″

I gave no response.

″Don't even try to act like you're better. Do you know how many lives you destroyed during your brief tenure with the CIA?″

I grit my teeth.

She likes to run her mouth, too. It's like I'm staring at a younger version of myself.

The thought made me grin. I couldn't help but bite my thumb.

″What's so funny?″ She grimaced.

″It's like you looked me up on Wikipedia. Never thought I'd have such a fan!″

She groaned. ″This is taking too long.″ She typed something up and red beams of light shot out from the walls and ceiling. Before any of them could hit me, I reached into my pocket and hit the door. It opened up, and I ran inside just before it closed back up.

″What?!″ She turned around and gasped. The pistol I had stolen was pointed against her head.

″Try harder.″

″You think you're so tough? You've only traversed a small fraction of this base! You have no idea --″

I cut her off.

″You're right. And I'll tear this whole place down.″

That would be my happiness.

″I'm home!″ Someone announced. I jolted up. I wished I could stop sleeping so much and try to get up. I didn't want to be a patient; lying in bed and so helpless. Who cared if I was missing an arm? I could still do things.

″Hey sis!″ Trent, the doctor, greeted.

″I brought cupcakes!″ The love of my life announced.

I ran up and hugged her, then looked over, eager to taste one. That was, until I saw what they were.

″Honey, you know I don't like velvet!″ I scolded.

″Fine, more for me,″ she shrugged.

″It's the dye..″ I tried to explain. Actually, I didn't like beetroot, either. Though I doubted those ones were made with beetroot.

″Sorry, long day at the lab. People want so many parts commissioned. I forget things, okay?″ She also tried to explain. We both laughed.

″It's all good. I'm just glad you're home.″

She walked over past the kitchen, where her other 'lab' was. 3D-Printers and various tools surrounded the room. She leaned against the counter and munched on a cupcake. Against the light of the mini-lamp, she was a radiating beauty. Although same could be said about her all the time.

″So,″ she began, mouth full of cupcake. ″How's the kid?″

We didn't actually know the patient's age, aside from that they looked young. Could have been a teenager, or in their twenties.

″They woke up yesterday. Called me 'Winry'...″

″Huh. Did we find anything out?″

″Nope. Some kind of memory loss. It will probably come back in time.″

″Ugh,″ she threw an entire cupcake in her mouth. Trent would have to take the package away from her before she ate the whole thing. ″This is just like the plot of some bad TV show.″

I laughed.

″Tell me about it...″ Trent sighed from just behind me. ″Looked it up, by the way. Winry's some anime character.″

″Wait! Lemme see!″ She ran over and snatched Trent's phone.

I blinked. Next thing I knew, she had her palm over her face and burst into laughter.

″Ha! She really does look like you!″

I peeked. My face was flushed.

″This...isn't...no...″

She kept reading about the character. I felt like I was going to cry.

″Don't worry, hun. You're not like her in profession.″

″Yeah,″ Trent added. ″You're more like if Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy had a baby.″

I glared. ″Gee, thanks. You make me sound so villainous.″

″Well, you are a therapist who studies plants, dear,″ she pointed out.

I tried getting up.

I leaned myself forward and managed to pick myself up off my feet. Just a little bit more, and I was standing. No blanket on me. I was so proud of myself I threw both my arms up into the air...and realized I only had one raised.

How did this happen? Was I born this way?

Dark energies swirled, a sharp pain where my other arm should have been struck me and it was like my mind was begging to tell me, but just didn't have the funds to do so. I was in some sort of a trance, ready to pass through and unleash some dark act. But the dark act in question was really just a single step, then a wobble and a trip.

Landing back on my ass, I found the culprit: a loose screw.

From my mind, no less.

No. Just a little screw.

Could be worse. Could have been a Lego.

My landing caused an impact that shook the floor. Rocked the very core of the apartment and caused hordes of feet to storm their way into the room.

I turned my head and saw three heads: Trent, the lady who introduced herself to me yesterday, and...the fiance?″

I waved with the arm I actually had, not saying a word.

They made the same, slow, awkward wave.

″Good morning?″ I greeted, unsure.

She ran up to me, the one with overalls and silver (?) hair. No, my eyes had to adjust. Not even. Brown...mahogany. That seemed a good descriptor.

″Actually! It's almost evening!″ She corrected, leaning over and excited to see me.

″Hi...you are...?″

″Juniper! I'm Trent's sister. Out of law. Well, we settled out of court!″

I tilted my head. Trent groaned.

″It's a joke...″ he explained.

″Yeah, we're actually related, for real!″

My head bobbed to and fro. Little skittles bouncing around inside, but I couldn't eat them. Causing quite a ruckus.

″You've been sleeping a lot, you're going to feel a little woozy!″ Trent's voice jolted me back to reality.

″I think I lost myself...in the moment...my head feels like spaghetti...″ I mumbled.

The three of them observed me as if I was some kind of new species they discovered. One of them in particular, the first one I was acquainted to, stood behind the brother and sister and seemed to have been studying me with the most intensity.

She was familiar, somewhere in the depths of my memories, but it was all wrong.

Stay away from her. She's danger, my brain told me. I reached far back into my brain, where my memories were just vague enough to conjure something. Not an image, but a name...

″You!″ I looked over at her. ″You're...Et...″

Her eyes widened. ″Oh! Sorry!″ She squeaked. ″Vesuvius. My parents likened me to an active volcano when I was born. I'm not a fan of it, but never thought to change it.″

[everettwilkinson]

OBAMA edges Trump for most-admired man in the world, and HILLARY beats Michelle — FINEMAN leaving HuffPo for NBCNews.com — CHRIS HUGHES and SEAN ELDRIDGE have a boy — B’DAY: ZACH MONTELLARO

THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES is at Trump International Golf Club, per today’s White House pooler, Francesca Chambers of the Daily Mail.

MOST-ADMIRED MAN IN THE WORLD, per a Gallup poll: No. 1: Barack Obama, No. 2: Donald Trump. … 17% surveyed name Obama the most-admired man in the world. 14% say Donald Trump is the most admired. Others receiving a mention: Pope Francis, the Rev. Billy Graham, Sen. John McCain (R-Ariz.), Elon Musk, Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.), Bill Gates, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, Jeff Bezos, the Dalai Lama and VP Mike Pence.

Story Continued Below

— THE MOST-ADMIRED WOMAN: Hillary Clinton. No. 2: Michelle Obama, followed by Oprah Winfrey, Sen. Elizabeth Warren (D-Mass.), German Chancellor Angela Merkel, Queen Elizabeth II, Condoleezza Rice, Melania Trump, Nikki Haley, Kate Middleton and Beyonce Knowles. The full results http://bit.ly/2CgKysa

BULLETIN — AP/KABUL: “Islamic State claims attack on Shiite center, 41 dead”: “A brutal attack claimed by the Islamic State group devastated a two-story Shiite Muslim cultural center in the Afghan capital on Thursday, killing at least 41 people and wounding another 84, many suffering severe burns from the intensity of the explosions.

“The IS-linked Aamaq news agency said three bombs were used in the ferocious assault as well as a single suicide bomber who blew himself up inside the center, where scores of people had gathered to mark the 1979 invasion of Afghanistan by the former Soviet Union. … Other explosions occurred outside the building, which also houses the pro-Iranian Afghan Voice news agency, which may also have been a target in the attack.” http://bit.ly/2E7L5NA

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FIRST IN PLAYBOOK — INTERGALACTIC EDITOR NO MORE! — HOWARD FINEMAN is leaving HuffPo to join NBCNews.com to write pieces on politics “and other topics.” Howard emails: “The move makes sense. As you know, I’ve been reporting for years on TV as an analyst for NBC and MSNBC. It’s also an online homecoming. Back when I was political correspondent at Newsweek, I was one of the first print reporters to write a column for a new venture called msnbc.com, and blogged the 2004 Democratic convention on my tiny-windowed BlackBerry — a pioneering (and comical) exercise.

“I am thankful for seven great years at HuffPost, which I joined at Arianna Huffington’s invitation when it was a start-up in SoHo (and called The Huffington Post!). I am honored to have worked with talented, innovative and dedicated colleagues in DC and in New York, led by Arianna, Tim Armstrong and Lydia Polgreen. I know a thing or two, and can say that there is no more collegial newsroom in journalism than the HuffPost DC bureau. They root for each other, and I will always root for them.”

Happy Thursday. ALWAYS BE SELLING — “Trump builds his 2018 political message by rebranding Obama’s economic legacy,” by Ben White and Nancy Cook: “The White House hopes to boost President Donald Trump’s low approval ratings by using the economy as a centerpiece of its political message in 2018, according to three White House officials, even if many of the president’s successes so far are squarely built on the legacy of former President Barack Obama.

“The trends of declining unemployment, coupled with healthy gains in the stock market, began during Obama’s first term, a welcome uptick following the global economic downturn Obama inherited in 2009. The Trump administration has built on those gains, particularly in recent months. Business confidence has soared on the expectation of sweeping tax cuts as well as the administration’s push to roll back regulations on everything from energy to housing to health care to labor rules.

“But hard economic data on growth, job creation and wages look very similar to the last several years under Obama. The pace of job growth actually slowed slightly to 174,000 per month in 2017 through November, compared with 187,000 per month in Obama’s final year.” http://politi.co/2pOGhJV

NEWS YOU CAN USE — WAPO: “IRS says many who prepaid property taxes may still face cap on deductions,” by Peter Jamison, Jeff Stein and Patricia Sullivan: “People across the United States rushed this week to pay their 2018 property taxes early, hoping to take advantage one last time of a federal deduction that will be scaled back under the tax-code overhaul signed by President Trump.

“On Wednesday, however, the ­[IRS] announced that those prepayments could be deducted only in limited circumstances, a decision that appeared to invalidate many taxpayers’ efforts and raised the prospect that local governments could come under pressure to refund millions of dollars. …

“[T]he IRS said … filers could only avoid the cap by paying property taxes that have been assessed in 2017. Many local governments, including most Washington-area jurisdictions, have not completed assessments for upcoming years. …

“In the District, Mayor Muriel E. Bowser (D) openly encouraged homeowners last week to prepay their 2018 property taxes, either online at the D.C. Office of Tax and Revenue or at any Wells Fargo branch in the city. (Those seeking to pay at the bank locations were told to bring a 2017 property-tax invoice with them.) D.C. officials said Wednesday that they were reviewing the IRS announcement and could not yet comment on whether prepayment might benefit taxpayers.” http://wapo.st/2CfajeB

****** A message from Google Year in Search 2017: In 2017, the world asked “how…?” From “how to move forward” to “how to make a difference,” the questions we asked showed our shared desire to understand our experiences. Watch the film and see top trending lists from around the world at g.co/2017. ******

THE TAX LAWYER FULL EMPLOYMENT ACT, via NYT’s Natalie Kitroeff: “In a Complex Tax Bill, Let the Hunt for Loopholes Begin”: “It was supposed to be a tax cut for manufacturers. Then it got out of control. World Wrestling Entertainment took it for producing wrestling videos. Regional gas stations claimed it because they mix ethanol with base fuel. Grocery stores asked for it because they spray their fruit so that it ripens. Pharmacies could take it because they have booths that print photos.

“Republicans in Congress passed that deduction more than a decade ago, and they repealed it in the tax bill signed on Friday by President Trump. It is a lesson in the abundant creativity of American business in interpreting the tax code. The latest overhaul could play out the same way. Already, lawyers and accountants are eyeing several provisions that investors and companies could potentially exploit.

“The bill, for example, lowers the taxes on so-called pass-through income, which is earned by partnerships and other types of businesses. Congress sold the provision as a way to help smaller companies. But lawmakers added language that allowed big real estate developers to benefit. The result could be a tax break for any company that buys and operates a building for its business.

“The new law is also supposed to encourage companies to make investments in the United States. But the rules were written in such a way that they could give businesses an incentive to keep their money in foreign countries and build factories abroad.” http://nyti.ms/2lbKpie

THE PRESIDENT has nothing on his public schedule today.

— TRUMP, speaking to the pool yesterday afternoon at a firehouse in West Palm Beach, per WaPo’s Ashley Parker: “‘How’s the media? Good? Everyone good?’ He talked about the economy was doing very well, and how the country was ‘setting records in stocks.’ ‘How’s your 401K? Doing pretty well? Doing well, right?’ … ‘They’re all doing well. The 401Ks are doing well, the stocks are doing well.’

“Trump then praised the tax cut that Republicans passed shortly before the winter holiday. ‘So the country was really — we took a big, big beautiful ship that we’re turning around, and a lot of good things are happening.’ …

“He also repeatedly stressed how much legislation he had helped pass. ‘We got a lot of legislation passed. They were saying that if we got this one done, we would have succeeded with legislation. But I believe – and you would have to ask those folks who will know the real answer – we have more legislation passed, including the record was Harry Truman a long time ago. And we broke that record, so we got a lot done.’

“‘We have the all time record for stopping ridiculous regulations, and we’re very proud of that, that’s one of the reasons stocks are up to record level.’ Trump went on to say that the stock market had hit an all time high 84 times since he was elected in Nov. 2016. ‘So that’s something you can all be proud of. That makes you all look very smart. And your families say, ‘Boy are you a great investor, right?’ When you have your numbers go up and your stocks go up, and everything else.’”

–“Trump falsely claims he broke a legislative record,” by Nolan D. McCaskill: http://politi.co/2pOc25U

THE MILITARY BOWL is today in Annapolis. Virginia takes on Navy at 1:30 p.m. ESPN is carrying the game.

REVOLVING DOOR — WSJ’S ELI STOKOLS: “Trump White House Saw Record Number of First-Year Staff Departures”: “According to Kathryn Dunn-Tenpas, a senior fellow at the Brookings Institution who has tracked White House turnover rates over three decades, the Trump administration’s 34% turnover rate — 21 of the 61 senior officials she has tracked have resigned, been fired or reassigned — is much higher than that of any other administration in the last 40 years, which is as far back as Ms. Dunn-Tenpas’s analysis goes. The presidency with the next-highest first-year turnover rate was Ronald Reagan’s, with 17% of senior aides leaving the administration in 1981.

“‘Not only is the percentage double, the seniority of people leaving is extraordinarily high,’ said Ms. Dunn-Tenpas. ‘That’s unprecedented to me. The first year always seems to have some missteps on staffing, often because the skills that worked well running a campaign don’t always align with what it takes to run a government. In this case, it’s a president with no experience in government and people around him who also had no experience,’ she continued. ‘So it’s not surprising that it’s higher than normal, but it’s still surprising it’s this high.’” http://on.wsj.com/2E7ufhU

THE INVESTIGATIONS …

— WAPO’S CAROL LEONNIG: “Trump legal team readies attack on Flynn’s credibility”:“President Trump’s legal team plans to cast former national security adviser Michael T. Flynn as a liar seeking to protect himself if he accuses the president or his senior aides of any wrongdoing, according to three people familiar with the strategy. …

“Trump’s legal team has seized on Flynn’s agreement with prosecutors as fodder for a possible defense, if necessary. In court filings, the retired lieutenant general admitted that he lied to the FBI about conversations he had with the Russian ambassador to the United States during the December 2016 transition. ‘He’s said it himself: He’s a liar,’ said one person helping craft the strategy who was granted anonymity to describe private conversations.” http://wapo.st/2pLa46k

— MICHAEL ISIKOFF in Yahoo, “Mueller probe outgrows its ‘witch hunt’ phase”: “[S]ources familiar with the probe say that such a rapid conclusion is — as one put it — ‘fanciful.’ Mueller and his team, they say, are pursuing new leads, interrogating new witnesses and collecting a mountain of new evidence, including subpoenaed bank records and thousands of emails from the campaign and the Trump transition.

“In just the last few weeks, his prosecutors have begun questioning [RNC] staffers about the party digital operation that worked with the Trump campaign to target voters in key swing states. They are seeking to determine if the joint effort was related to the activities of Russian trolls and bots aimed at influencing the American electorate, according to two of the sources.”https://yhoo.it/2zHame8

COUNTERPOINT — “Trump Had A Good Year Getting Judges Confirmed, But He’s Still A Long Way From Reshaping The Courts,” by BuzzFeed’s Zoe Tillman: “Trump’s potential to shift the ideological balance of the courts is far from fully realized: There are still 160 vacancies in the federal appeals and district courts and 870 active judgeships. … Several judges appointed by Democratic presidents told BuzzFeed News they are hesitant to step down and create new vacancies while Trump is in office. ‘Given the caliber of nominees I’m seeing, I’m not comfortable creating a spot that might be filled by someone consistent with the qualifications, or lack of qualifications, of some of the folks I’ve seen nominated,’ a federal appeals judge confirmed under President Bill Clinton said.” http://bzfd.it/2lmNxHr

— “Trump talked tough but hasn’t reined in college tuition,” by Benjamin Wermund: “On the campaign trail, President Donald Trump railed against elite universities that he said were ‘paying more to hedge funds and private equity managers than they are spending on tuition assistance.’ He vowed to ‘push colleges to cut the skyrocketing cost of tuition.’

“But in the year since, his administration has done little to help low- and middle-income Americans afford the nation’s best schools, even as data released this year show just how pervasive economic inequality is on American college campuses. Many of the nation’s top schools serve more students from the top 1 percent of earners than the bottom 60 percent combined, according to a study by the Equality of Opportunity Project.

“The Trump administration, instead, has largely sent the message that those four-year universities aren’t for everyone — a talking point that groups working to expand college access, especially for low-income students, say threatens to exacerbate the problem.” http://politi.co/2E7iB6A

CAN’T STOP, WON’T STOP — AL.COM’S ANNA BEAHM: “The Roy Moore campaign filed a complaint Wednesday to have the election certification delayed ‘until a full investigation of voter fraud is conducted,’ according to a statement from his campaign.

“The complaint includes affidavits from three ‘national election integrity experts’ who claim election fraud occurred and a statement from Moore saying he successfully completed a polygraph test confirming the representations of misconduct made against him during the campaign are ‘completely false.’ Moore has not conceded the election more than two weeks after he was defeated by Democrat Doug Jones. …

“One of the three experts, Richard Charnin, said the possibility of the election results in the Jefferson County precincts happening naturally is ‘less than one in 15 billion,’ according to the campaign. … [Secretary of State John] Merrill, Gov. Kay Ivey and Attorney General Steve Marshall, who make up the state canvassing board, will meet at 1 p.m. in Merrill’s office in the Capitol to certify the election results.” http://bit.ly/2CfdzGZ

UPDATE — The Trump-Ryan-McConnell confab at Camp David is Jan. 6-7, per the AP.

PHOTO DU JOUR: President Donald Trump shakes hands Dec. 27 with firefighters at West Palm Beach Fire Rescue in Florida. | Evan Vucci/AP Photo

CLICKERS – POLITICO MAGAZINE: “Why They Mattered: Remembering 30 politicos who died in 2017”: “There may have been an unusual number of celebrity deaths in 2016, but 2017 saw the departure of no shortage of notables. As we do each year, Politico Magazine invited friends, colleagues, scholars and observers to remember dozens of figures who died over the past year after having led lives that shaped American and global politics in all kinds of ways—from television screens and comedy clubs to the pages of newspapers and magazines to the halls of government.” http://politi.co/2BNMFmh

–N.Y. TIMES MAGAZINE’s annual “The Lives They Lived” issue http://nyti.ms/2CgeQuZ … “The Things They Loved” http://nyti.ms/2CgpTEn … The cover http://bit.ly/2C3jxf0

HOLIDAY WEEK TALKERS – “How Trump could kill the Iran nuclear deal in January,”by Michael Crowley: “President Donald Trump allowed the Iran nuclear deal to survive through 2017, but the new year will offer him another chance to blow up the agreement — and critics and supporters alike believe he may take it. By mid-January, the president will face new legal deadlines to choose whether to slap U.S. sanctions back on Tehran. Senior lawmakers and some of Trump’s top national security officials are trying to preserve the agreement.

“But the deal’s backers fear Trump has grown more willing to reject the counsel of his foreign policy team, as he did with his recent decision to recognize Jerusalem as Israel’s capital. The decision represents an opportunity for Trump to deliver on a campaign promise to rip up the Iran deal, one he has repeatedly deferred at the urging of senior officials.” http://politi.co/2Dr1ECW

— “How the banks won over Washington again,” by Zach Warmbrodt: “Less than a decade after being blamed for fueling the worst financial crisis since the Great Depression, banks are winning again in Washington. The rebound for the lenders has been so remarkable that Republicans and Democrats in Congress are pushing to scale back financial regulations imposed in the wake of the meltdown — one of the few areas where the two parties agree. President Donald Trump, who once vowed not to let Wall Street ‘get away with murder,’ has dropped the demonizing campaign rhetoric and recruited industry veterans to his administration.

“His Treasury Department has drawn up a series of recommendations for trimming the post-crisis rule book. Even the Federal Reserve, the top banking regulator, is working to relax safeguards. Lawmakers and regulators are rethinking policies including loosening mortgage protections, curtailing so-called stress tests that gauge how banks would fare during economic turmoil, and simplifying capital requirements for smaller lenders. Many of the proposals are targeted rollbacks rather than a wholesale repeal of regulations, but they would have a meaningful impact on the industry.” http://politi.co/2lmtHvR

— MICHAEL GRUNWALD, “Everything Is Awesome! Well, Almost”: “I come bearing good news! The economy is growing! OK, it’s actually been growing for eight straight years. But as President Donald Trump keeps pointing out, it’s grown at a solid 3 percent annual rate for the past two quarters, ‘a number nobody thought they’d see for a long period of time.’ OK, OK, the economy actually did hit that 3 percent quarterly growth number eight times during President Barack Obama’s time in office. Nevertheless, it’s a good number. … America’s steady upward economic trajectory has continued under an unconventional new president, confounding the liberal pundits who predicted insta-doom.” http://politi.co/2E5GMCp

— JUST POSTED — VANITY FAIR’S “THE HIVE”: “‘ISIS 3.0’: HOW SILICON VALLEY GAVE RISE TO THE NEXT GENERATION OF TERROR,” by Haroon Ullah, author of “Digital World War: Islamists, Extremists and the Fight for Cyber Supremacy” http://bit.ly/2BQlmry … $14.05 on Amazon http://amzn.to/2mcfDbY

IN CASE YOU WERE WONDERING … REX TILLERSON in the NYT: “I Am Proud of Our Diplomacy” http://nyti.ms/2lfaNYP

BUT … — “Documents shed light on North Korea’s startling gains in sea-based missile technology,” by WaPo’s Joby Warrick: “A few months after the collapse of the Soviet Union, a group of American investors and Russian scientists struck a deal to begin marketing one of the crown jewels of Moscow’s strategic arsenal: an entire family of missiles designed for launch from submarines. Up for sale were powerful missiles called ‘Calm’ and ‘Ripple,’ built to lob heavy warheads into space from a barge or a submarine tube, and a new model called ‘Surf’ that could be rolled off the side of a ship and fired straight out of the water. The idea of the joint venture, as one of its U.S. partners wrote in early 1993, was to link American satellite companies to a top Russian weapons laboratory to ‘convert potentially threatening submarine missiles into peaceful space boosters.’

“The Americans quickly ran aground on a series of legal and bureaucratic barriers, but the Russians forged ahead with a new partner willing to pay cash for Soviet military technology: North Korea. More than two decades later, some of the Soviet designs are reappearing, one after another, in surprisingly sophisticated missiles that have turned up on North Korean launchpads over the past two years. Now, newly uncovered documents offer fresh clues about the possible origins of those technical advances, some of which seemed to outside observers to have come from nowhere.” http://wapo.st/2CiCOG5

****** A message from Google Year in Search 2017: As this year draws to a close, Google analyzed Search Trends data to see what the world was searching for. The data showed that 2017 was the year we asked “how…?” How do wildfires start? How to calm a dog during a storm? How to make a protest sign? These questions show our shared desire to understand our experiences and come to each other’s aid. Watch the Year in Search 2017 and see top trending lists from around the world at g.co/2017. ******

WAPO’S DAVE WEIGEL: “Ryan’s ‘pro-white’ primary foe denounced by Breitbart after his anti-Semitic tweets”: “A Wisconsin businessman challenging House Speaker Paul D. Ryan in next year’s congressional primaries denounced ‘globalists from both parties’ Wednesday, after his anti-Semitic tweets prompted Stephen K. Bannon and Breitbart News to distance themselves from his campaign.

“Paul Nehlen, who is challenging Ryan for the second time, responded to the accusations of anti-Semitism by saying he was ‘pro-white’ and opposed to double standards. ‘Allow me to answer with this question: If pro-White is White supremacy, what is pro-Jewish?’ Nehlen told The Washington Post in a text message. ‘I reject being called a White Supremacist, because clearly Pro-White isn’t White Supremacy unless Pro-Jewish is Jewish Supremacy.’” http://wapo.st/2pOqFG3

–“Bannon adviser: Ryan challenger Paul Nehlen is ‘dead to us’ after inflammatory tweets,” by CNN’s Oliver Darcy: http://cnnmon.ie/2pQSTQM

— GUYS. Nehlen lost to Ryan by 69 points in 2016.

K STREET FILES — HEATHER PODESTA’s annual list of funny New Year’s resolutions from her firm Invariant. Some of our favorites: “Insist on free toaster from Deutsche Bank with $285m loan” and “Remove opera gloves before entering federal buildings.” http://politi.co/2C4Egie

IVANKA INC. — “How Ivanka Trump Is a Walking Billboard for Her Namesake Fashion Business: The president’s daughter and adviser put the company into a trust, but continues to wear its merchandise, feeding a publicity machine,” by WSJ’s Jean Eaglesham and Lisa Schwartz: “Ivanka Trump wore a peach dress with ruffles, paired with pale taupe shoes, to a White House meeting with technology executives in June. ‘Just peachy!’ the Daily Mail newspaper declared online, above 14 photographs of the first daughter’s outfit. ‘The best news is that you can buy this exact dress at Zappos and it’s only $138. Follow the link at right to their website.’

“The dress and shoes were both from Ms. Trump’s namesake brand, Ivanka Trump, which she still owns and from which she receives a multimillion-dollar annual income. … The Wall Street Journal reviewed Ms. Trump’s outfits in her Twitter, Facebook and Instagram postings about official appearances between March 29, when she became a White House adviser, and the end of October. Star Style, a celebrity-fashion website, identified the products. The analysis showed that Ivanka Trump dresses, shoes, bags or jewelry appeared in 46 of the 68 outfits reviewed, or 68%.” http://on.wsj.com/2BPJrid

MEDIAWATCH — HOLLYWOOD REPORTER’S JEREMY BARR: “Reporter’s Notebook: 2017’s Unanswered Media Questions”: “Who will replace Matt Lauer on NBC’s ‘Today’ and Charlie Rose on ‘CBS This Morning’? … Will NBC’s investigation into Lauer’s conduct indict any current or former NBC executives? … Will Megyn Kelly keep up her momentum? … Who will emerge victorious in the court case stemming from the federal government’s lawsuit to stop AT&T’s purchase of Time Warner? … Will Sinclair Broadcasting’s purchase of Tribune Media go through? … Will Greta Van Susteren come back to television? … What about Bill O’Reilly? …

“Will Fox News hosts get tougher on Donald Trump? … Will Trump give another interview to a national television outlet that’s not part of the Fox News family? … When is PBS going to pick a new co-anchor on flagship news program ‘PBS NewsHour’? … How will Conde Nast adjust to a magazine industry landscape now dominated by Meredith Corp. and Hearst?” http://bit.ly/2E5JOXm

— “Truck blocks cameras from filming Trump on golf course,” by CNN’s Tom Kludt: “Photo and video crews were stymied in their attempts to film President Trump on a golf course Wednesday, an apparent response to CNN’s recent footage of the commander-in-chief on the links. As the president completed another round at Trump International Golf Club in West Palm Beach, Florida, a large white truck obscured nearby journalists — who were positioned on public property — from getting a shot of Trump on their cameras. When CNN’s photojournalist moved his camera, the truck likewise moved, blocking the picture. …

“Cathy Milhoan, a spokeswoman for the Secret Service, said the agency was not responsible for the truck. ‘The USSS is in the business of protection and investigations not in commissioning vehicles to block the media’s view of the President’s golf swing,’ Milhoan said.” With a 90-second video http://cnnmon.ie/2C2l19f

–“BuzzFeed has fired its White House correspondent after allegations of inappropriate comments to a colleague,” by Business Insider’s Maxwell Tani: “Adrian Carrasquillo was let go following an internal investigation, a representative told Business Insider on Wednesday. ‘We are saddened by these circumstances, but we take these issues extremely seriously,’ the representative said. ‘We’re committed to ensuring that BuzzFeed remains a place where everyone is treated respectfully by his or her peers.’

“Last month, BuzzFeed News began investigating several of its staffers after their names appeared on a Google spreadsheet titled ‘S—-y Media Men’ that was being passed around media circles. … Carrasquillo’s name appeared on a version of the list seen by Business Insider.” http://read.bi/2BOeg6K

VALLEY TALK — “Apple Boosts Pay of CEO Tim Cook, Other Executives: Technology firm’s raises come after rare pay cut in prior fiscal year,” by WSJ’s Tripp Mickle: “Mr. Cook’s total compensation for the fiscal year, which ended in September, jumped 47% — to $12.8 million — the largest bump among the five executives listed in Apple’s annual proxy filing. Mr. Cook’s pay increase was driven by his cash bonus, which was hinged on exceeding the revenue and profit targets set by the board.” http://on.wsj.com/2ljsB4b

SPOTTED: DNI Dan Coats last night sitting behind the Butler bench at the Georgetown basketball game with his security detail

WELCOME TO THE WORLD – CHRIS HUGHES, co-chair of the Economic Security Project and co-founder of Facebook, and SEAN ELDRIDGE, founder and president of Stand Up America and a former congressional candidate, have welcomed David Hughes Eldridge. Pics http://bit.ly/2CiPDzW … http://bit.ly/2lc0qox … http://bit.ly/2C4KBdT

— Dan Hirschhorn, director of news of Time Inc. and TIME, and JJ El-Far, the general manager of Theater Mitu in Brooklyn, welcomed Ellis Isaac Hirschhorn, born 11:51 p.m. on Wednesday at 7 pounds 8 ounces. Pic http://bit.ly/2DrvCXu

— Merideth Potter, SVP at GMMB, and Jason Potter, a staffer for the Senate Armed Services Committee, recently welcomed Judson Rogers Potter, born at Sibley Memorial Hospital, weighing 8 lbs 10 oz. Pic with big sister Quincy http://bit.ly/2zGXV1C

ENGAGED — Michael McAdams, a regional press secretary for the NRSC and former communications director for Rep. Chris Collins (R-N.Y.), proposed to Alley Hampton, an interior designer, on Wednesday night at the Montage in Laguna Beach, California. “They were joined afterwards by family and friends at The Deck. The couple met on a blind date at Le Diplomate.” Pic http://bit.ly/2pNoCSZ

— Bobby McMillin, general counsel for the Senate HELP Committee and a Chambliss and Romney alum, proposed to his girlfriend and coworker Virginia Heppner, a professional staff member for Senate HELP. They got engaged Christmas Day on top of Humpback Rock outside Charlottesville, Virginia. “They met at work, and their romance blossomed as it so often does… drafting health cybersecurity legislation.” Pic http://politi.co/2DrqH8Y … Instapic http://bit.ly/2CiQL9e

BIRTHDAY OF THE DAY: NPR special correspondent Melissa Block. An interesting book she’s recently read: “I just re-read ‘The Age of Innocence’ by Edith Wharton. Apart from her deliciously sly observations of New York society circa 1920, the novel has surprising resonance now in this #metoo moment. Wharton writes so powerfully about the social pressures exerted on women, and how their lives were constrained or their passions derailed by forces beyond their control. A century later, here we are.” Read her Playbook Plus Q&A: http://politi.co/2E8azds

BIRTHWEEK (was yesterday): GSA Administrator Emily Murphy (hat tip: Emily J. McBride)

BIRTHDAYS: Susanna Quinn, founder and CEO of on-demand fitness and beauty service Veluxe, celebrating with female friends at a small dinner hosted by Gloria Riviera, Stephanie Cutter and Dana Bash (h/ts hubby Jack and Matt Dornic) … Seth Meyers is 44 … Sen. Johnny Isakson (R-Ga.) is 73 … former Sen. Tim Johnson (D-S.D.) is 71 … former Arkansas Gov. Mike Beebe is 71 … Politico’s Zach Montellaro, who helps bring you Playbook every morning … Ian Wishingrad, founder of New York-based BigEyedWish … Mark Katz is 54 … Shari Yost Gold … Debbie Willhite … Michele Altemus … David Eisner, CEO at Repair the World (h/ts Jon Haber) … Bloomberg Politics’ Sahil Kapur is 31 … Politico’s Han Ah-Sue … David Dunn … former Rep. Jim McDermott (D-Wash.) is 81 … former Rep. Spencer Bachus (R-Ala.) is 7-0 … DLCC national political director Kevin Boyd … Christa Robinson, SVP of comms. for CBS News (h/t CBS News comms shop) … D.J. Jordan, communications director for Sen. James Lankford (R-Okla.) … AP economics writer Josh Boak … Cam Cullman, account manager at BBDO Worldwide … CEB’s Will Candrick …

… Ed McFadden, secretary of comms for the Archdiocese of Washington, celebrating by “sharing multiple vintages of Cade and Oro Puro wines with friends” (h/t Blain Rethmeier) … Boeing’s Alexa Marrero (h/t Phil Musser) … Kathy Kraninger, White House OMB associate director and Bush 43 DHS alum … Katy Montgomery, Chertoff Group communications director and Bush 43 DHS and WH alum (h/ts Ed Cash) … Lou Gallo is 6-0 … Virginia Del. Jennifer McClellan … Janne Emilie Nolan … Chris Cooper 47 … Raquel Wojnar … Douglas Wiley … Jack Lynch is 67 … Adrienne Fox Luscombe … Savannah Short … Erica Martinson, D.C. reporter for Alaska Dispatch News, who last month welcomed Archer Robert Artis into the world – pic http://bit.ly/2BXrFgR … Corinne Elise McGrath … Nick Sauer … Randall Snow … Mike Snyder … Molly Varoga … David Drews (h/ts Teresa Vilmain) … former UAW union president Owen Bieber is 88 (h/t AP)

****** A message from Google Year in Search 2017: As this year draws to a close, Google analyzed Search Trends data to see what the world was searching for. The data showed that 2017 was the year we asked “how…?” How do wildfires start? How to calm a dog during a storm? How to make a protest sign? All of the “how” searches featured in the Year in Search film were searched at least 10 times more this year than ever before. These questions show our shared desire to understand our experiences and come to each other’s aid.

From “how to watch the eclipse” and “how to shoot like Curry,” to “how to move forward” and “how to make a difference,” here’s to this Year in Search. Watch the film and see top trending lists from around the world at g.co/2017. ******

SUBSCRIBE to the Playbook family: POLITICO Playbook http://politi.co/2lQswbh …Playbook Power Briefing http://politi.co/2xuOiqh … New York Playbook http://politi.co/1ON8bqW … Florida Playbook http://politi.co/1OypFe9 … New Jersey Playbook http://politi.co/1HLKltF … Massachusetts Playbook http://politi.co/1Nhtq5v …Illinois Playbook http://politi.co/1N7u5sb … California Playbook http://politi.co/2bLvcPl …London Playbook http://politi.co/2xfDPuK … Brussels Playbook http://politi.co/1FZeLcw …All our political and policy tipsheets http://politi.co/1M75UbX

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from CapitalistHQ.com https://capitalisthq.com/obama-edges-trump-for-most-admired-man-in-the-world-and-hillary-beats-michelle-fineman-leaving-huffpo-for-nbcnews-com-chris-hughes-and-sean-eldridge-have-a-boy-bday-zach-montellaro/

[spencerthorpe]

Meet the Maker : Ana Kerin of KANA London

Ana Kerin is the Slovenian-born founder of ceramics brand KANA London, and we wanted to get to know her a little better by finding out what makes KANA one of the most exciting brands emerging in London today.

It is always about creating objects that you would want to hold on to; objects that have value added to them.

KANA offers a bespoke range of beautifully hand-made and hand-painted ceramics for the home, as well as also offering workshops for those who are looking to learn the skill themselves. Ana’s style is distinctive; here we get to discover what lies behind the beautiful pieces she creates…

Background Story

Ana Kerin, Founder of KANA London

IDEALIST: How did Kana come about?

ANA: Kana started about 5 years ago, after I slowly developed a strong interest and curiosity in working with functional objects whilst applying a fine art technique to working with clay. It is always about creating objects that you would want to hold on to; objects that have value added to them. There was also always a very strong interest in working with food.

IDEALIST: As a ceramicist, what training did you go through?

ANA: I studied Fine art and Sculpture. I had very old fashioned fine art training, which was an amazing experience. I feel very lucky to have those foundations, and it has largely dictated my style and technique today.

Inspiring Elements

IDEALIST: Where do you draw your inspiration from?

ANA: My favourite things are the sea, islands and sea holidays. Swimming in the sea and lying on rocks heals me, and fills me with energy and inspiration. New ideas just float on the surface.

I draw other inspiration from good books, architecture, contemporary dance shows and inspiring people I work with.

It’s really about having time to just observe and to see beauty in the smaller details.

I feel the inspiration comes from details I notice on my way around a city, or holidays where you have more time to really slow down and observe.

I spent two months in Tuscany this summer where I was invited to an art residency. There were a lot of details and beautiful moments I discovered which will definitely inspire and resonate within me for a while.

She recalls: “…the beautiful morning light on the wall of the old marble staircase…the huge shadows of the tree falling on the facade of the pink and burnt orange colour villa …”

Bend in the Road

IDEALIST: What have been your biggest challenges so far?

ANA: About 2 years ago my hands went numb. I was in huge pain non-stop and couldn’t sleep for weeks. I was told that I had a condition which inflamed the nerves in my hands, which the doctors had advised may stop me from continuing my passion. This health issue was really hard to accept, particularly as Kana was just starting out.  I haven’t even been able to talk about it for a long time. Eventually I decided that I have to either quit or work with it. I had to rethink my way of working and change from a one-person studio production into a creative studio, with a small team of really great people to help me. It is super fun but extremely challenging to let go of something that used to be just me. However, it is exciting and inspiring. My hands are feeling much better too!

Design Tips

IDEALIST: What are your top 5 design tips for the home?

Work with light. The home is like a living structure. Find the movement of light and question what times of day you spend in which space. Live with light across your home.

Use natural materials for everything. Stick with wood, stone, glass, and ceramics.

We spend 1/3 of our time in bed so invest in the best bed linen, mattress, duvet and pillows you can.

Cherish old pieces and tradition. Stories come with historic objects and they are often made well. Invest in beautiful, functional, high quality pieces that will last more than one life time.

Less is more. Leave space to breathe!

Creative Heroes

IDEALIST: Which creative personalities do your draw from?

ANA: It changes with time. I am inspired by so many art movements as well as very primitive art.

I draw from many areas of creative work, and mostly not directly related to ceramics. I do think quite often about artists that have lived quite extroverted, extraordinary and extravagant lives – the ones that are pushing people out of their comfort zone in one way or another. I find it attractive and inspiring. A few people I keep referring to when I think about my work are: Giuseppe Pennone, Pina Baucsh, Pedro Amoldovar, Banana Yoshimoto, Picasso, Brancussi, Lars Von Trier and Josep Lluis Sert.

Be true to your style.

Advice for Ceramicists

IDEALIST: What advice would you give to a ceramicist who is looking to start their own studio?

ANA: Be careful to maintain a healthy lifestyle. It’s physical and intense work and it’s important to not overwork your body.

Be true to your style. Develop your language and stick to it. It doesn’t matter how long it takes people to pick up on it.

Future Aspirations

IDEALIST: Where do you see Kana in 5 years?

ANA: I would love it to grow as a creative studio, and work on projects internationally.  I am interested in evolving by working on many more multidisciplinary projects. Working with architects, artists, chefs, and other ceramicists and designers would be great, especially as I find it very exciting to get a chance to work on bespoke large scale tiled surfaces for private and commercial clients. That’s something I would love to explore.

I would love to grow and build a team that has many sets of skills. As a sculptor I see myself personally stepping back towards fine art again. I might have a show in the pipe line!

IDEALIST: Are there any exciting collaborations or projects on the horizon?

ANA: There are quite few! The new Breddos tacos restaurant is opening on 7th of October in Soho and I have made a lot of plates and bowls for them.

I am working on a wall installation with a new retailer in Hamburg and also a collection for a beautiful retailer in Copenhagen. There are also a few that it’s too early to talk about…watch this space!

If you would like to see more of Ana’s work in detail visit her studio and even enrol on her one of her workshops! You can also see her designs this week throughout London Design Fair. She will be at: STAND 2 / British Craft Pavilion / Old Truman Brewery / 21st – 24th of September

You May Also Like

Modern Heroes: Lozi Designs

Modern Heroes: Venoor Living

Modern Danish Hero: Jonas Krüger of Brdr. Krüger

All photos courtesy of KANA London.

The post Meet the Maker : Ana Kerin of KANA London appeared first on The Idealist.

from The Idealist https://www.theidealist.com/meet-maker-ana-kerin-kana-london/ from The Idealist Magazine https://theidealistmagazine.tumblr.com/post/165505102298

[njawaidofficial]

Kareem Abdul-Jabbar: Three Days in the Swamp of Fox News' 'Trumpman Show'

http://styleveryday.com/2017/09/05/kareem-abdul-jabbar-three-days-in-the-swamp-of-fox-news-trumpman-show/

Kareem Abdul-Jabbar: Three Days in the Swamp of Fox News' 'Trumpman Show'

“Everything will be OK; Trump is not crazy” seems to be the message when a THR columnist tunes in to TV’s most toxic presidential reality show.

In the movie Kingsmen, Colin Firth’s sophisticated spy character proclaims, “Manners maketh the man.” His point is that we aren’t defined by social class or education or upbringing, but by our own will power to act rationally and respectfully. When it comes to understanding the actions of President Trump, we have to adjust Firth’s philosophy slightly to “Media maketh the man.” One small difference in wording, one giant leap in meaning.

When “media maketh the man,” the result is someone whose perception of the world is manipulated by the media he chooses, causing him to act impulsively, with limited knowledge, and often with destructive results. Trump has made no secret that his most trusted source of media information is Fox News programming — particularly Fox and Friends, which, because of the president’s loyalty to the show, The New York Times called “the most powerful TV show in America.” Therefore, I decided to immerse myself for three days in various Fox News shows to better understand how their influence maketh the president. After three days of watching Fox and Friends, Hannity, America’s News Headquarters, The Five, Fox Report, The Greg Gutfeld Show, MediaBuzz and others, I did better understand Trump’s obsession with Fox News — and why his dependency on it is so dangerous for the country.

Fox News shows and Trump are in sync when they both complain about “mainstream media” and “fake news.” The reason they both continue to use the phrase “mainstream media” is because it promotes their desired image as brazen outsiders who are marginalized by the brainwashed hordes because they speak the truth that other news outlets don’t dare. Yet, Fox News is the opposite of an outsider. As of Aug. 17, 2017, Sean Hannity had the No. 1 show in cable news primetime and Fox News was the top cable news channel. It doesn’t get more mainstream than that. And let’s remember that ratings translate into millions of dollars in profits. If the president disparages news outlets that simply report facts that expose discrepancies in his statements, yet promotes the network that consistently praises him, and they profit from that promotion, that’s a quid pro quo business relationship. Nothing is more mainstream than a news organization lavishly endorsed by the president of the United States. Other countries — like China, Russia, and North Korea — call that state-run news.

The alarm Trump and Fox raise about “fake news” is legitimate. This public debate over the accuracy of news outlets may be the most important issue the country faces. The survival of democracy depends on its citizens receiving clear, un-spun facts in order to make informed decisions about the future of the country. Americans have always been proud of their defense of the First Amendment rights of a free press because without it, Americans would — like the people of China, Russia, and North Korea — receive only news that supported and praised the government. Then our choices would be a façade — no choice at all.

But what if the president only received news that supported and praised him? How would he know what all the people think or what they want him to do? He wouldn’t. He would only know what his friends want and then act on that.

Fortunately, we have found the elusive source of fake news that Trump and Fox News have been railing against and it turns out to be Fox News and Trump himself. Let’s start with Trump. A fact-check by The Washington Post showed that as of Aug. 22, Trump has made 1,057 false or misleading claims since taking office. His Aug. 22 speech at his rally in Phoenix only added to that tally. He referred to the media as “truly dishonest people,” then proceeded to offer several lies of his own. He said that “very few people showed up” to protest his rally, yet photos show there were thousands. He claimed the news media wouldn’t show the size of the crowd of supporters, but U.S. News & World Report tweeted photos of that crowd. He also told the crowd that TV cameras were being turned off because networks didn’t want to show his speech, even as his speech was being aired live on television and online.

Also among the misinformation the president passed on during that speech was his belief that “clean coal” means scrubbing the coal as it’s mined rather than technologies that reduce harmful emissions when it’s burned. How can a president who lacks basic information make decisions about our energy policies?

Fox News already has a reputation for inaccuracies, and my three days watching didn’t dispel that reputation. PunditFact’s analysis shows that only 22 percent of statements made on air by Fox, Fox News and Fox Business are true or mostly true. The remaining 78 percent range from half true to “pants on fire,” with 30 percent false and 9 percent pants on fire. The most egregious recent example is Fox News promoting a conspiracy theory about the murder of DNC staffer Seth Rich. Despite the “evidence” mentioned on Fox being discredited, and Fox itself retracting the story, Hannity continued to pimp the story on his Twitter account until his bosses shut him down.

I watched the shows with some hope that things had changed at Fox News. I was disappointed to discover they had not. While I found much of the reporting in their news shows to be straightforward and professional, there were enough comments to show a distorted and inaccurate view of the country. The mantra at Fox seems to be: “Your enemy is anyone who doesn’t make you feel good about your beliefs.” The underlying message is “Everything will be OK; Trump is not crazy.”

If you worry that systemic racism might be a problem in America because of the hundreds of studies that say it is, don’t worry. They’re all wrong. That’s what I learned when I tuned in to watch America’s News HQ, which I had on my DVR. There was still about a minute of the previous Fox show on, showing demonstrators marching in Boston. To which the female correspondent assured us: “America is not a racist country, absolutely not. We have moved so far and will continue moving forward. That is what we do as Americans.” This shows such a fundamental lack of understanding of what systemic racism is that it’s shocking. There is not a reputable sociologist, political scientist or economist who doesn’t admit that there is racism built in to our political and social systems. It’s to the country’s credit that most people recognize this and are working hard to eliminate it. Pretending it doesn’t exist doesn’t move us forward, it moves us backward.

A few minutes into America’s News HQ, anchor Leland Vittert reported that counter-protesters marching in Boston were made up of “leftist groups like Black Lives Matter.” Huh? Technically, a leftist group seeks to address social inequities against the disadvantaged. But if the average Fox viewer were asked if they would like to see those who are disadvantaged get a fair shake, they’d probably say yes. Yet, stick on that “leftist” label, which most conservatives (a group that makes up 60 percent of Fox News viewers) see as a synonym for radical revolutionaries, and you’ve biased the audience. Why not say “social advocacy groups like Black Lives Matter,” which is more accurate?

On Mediabuzz, a news ticker at the bottom of the screen claimed “Media Trumpet Bannon’s Ouster.” This suggests that the “mainstream media” is cackling with delight over Bannon’s removal. You’d expect headlines like: “Bannon Told Not to Let the Door Hit Him on the Way Out” or “White House Exorcism Finally Removes Bannon.” Here are the actual online headlines reporting Steve Bannon’s firing. Fox News: “Bannon Out at White House”; CNBC: “Steve Bannon Out at White House”; NPR: “Steve Bannon Out as Chief Strategist, White House Says”; CBS: “Steve Bannon Out at White House.” There are more but they all say pretty much the same thing that Fox says. No trumpeting. No cackling. Just reporting.

I thought there might be some ray of hope when I saw that James Murdoch, the chief executive of 21st Century Fox and son of Fox owner Rupert Murdoch, pledged a million dollars to the Anti-Defamation League in response to Trump’s failure to condemn Nazis and white supremacists in Charlottesville. I was also heartened by Kat Timpf, of The Fox News Specialists, whose reaction to Trump’s limp non-condemnation was “I have too much eye makeup on to cry right now.” Naturally, she received a tweet calling her “a disgrace to the white race.” But that ray was snuffed out on Thursday, Aug. 24, when I tuned into The Specialists to hear the anchors gleefully agreeing with Trump’s pledge in Phoenix to shut down the government unless they fund his wall.

If you are what you eat and President Trump is being fed a steady diet of “alternate reality” by a popular mainstream news outlet, then that explains why he thinks he can get away with constantly broadcasting his own lies. More frightening, does he even know the difference? Which makes the Trump presidency less a variation of the Kingsmen and more like The Truman Show, the 1998 movie starring Jim Carrey as a man who doesn’t realize that he’s being raised by a corporation entirely inside a television show. In The Trumpman Show, Fox gives Trump misinformation that makes him think his world is real: that he won the popular vote, that people don’t think he’s a racist, misogynist, xenophobe. It’s been reported that twice a day Trump is given a folder of only good news about himself, which some in the White House refer to as “the propaganda document.” When those folders aren’t enough, he can tune into Fox and Friends, where he can hear this comment about the growing number of athletes joining Colin Kaepernick’s sitting out the national anthem in protest over racism: “It puts us in a position of weakness to the outward world. People look at us and say, wow, they’re divisive already.” Trump can then believe that it’s a football player causing all that divisiveness, not his tacit endorsement of white supremacists in Charlottesville.

The Trumpman Show is one show that needs to be canceled.

A version of this story first appeared in the Sept. 6 issue of The Hollywood Reporter magazine. To receive the magazine, click here to subscribe.

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