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onereallygoodlambonastick · 9 months ago

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rolecall / XG - TIPPY TOES / left right posting up slow switching lanes just like this / only direction i know swerving left right keep me upright / my adrenaline hit the pedal to the ground / 2 lil asians / don't we all deserve it ill tell you how we want it / no you cant deny it / you either like it or bite it / don't ask me if you dont know why / the only direction i know / what goes around comes back around / so when he comes down are you gonna let him pay or are you gonna let him stay

do you know why phonk gets popular on the social medias? because people dream of murder. they just find the most socially acceptable way to do it, because these are people interested in staying people. to those who dream of murder: this is will not kill you. for it did not kill me.

this is why everything i write is a poem.

and i think more of us should dream of murder, or what it takes to end a life. just one is fine. just 1. uno. uno. yi. yichi. one. One. the One. you believe in god? believe in the power of 1.

all for one / one for all. think on it. evoke all might, and evoke his enemy. why?

the universe is interested in this, too.

will you answer it - or shall i?

Dealer's choice.

You want to be cool? Be cool like a dying & a dead body.

I've lived through the age of humanitarian aid - ive seen nice people do nice things. Now I ask: Toni Morrison, what would you do different?

Fushigoro Toji knows exactly what I am referencing, and not only that: he knows exactly what I am aiming for. This is because he was interested in bringing the jiu-jitsu sorcerery world to its knees.

Gojo Satoru was interested in this too.

Now the question is: how?

Gege Akutami failed in his task to honor Gojo Satoru. I name you, Satoru: for all your fans call you Gojo, and I alone will know you. Now who will join you? By this, I mean: who will join me?

Who will speak conviction to action - because by the audre lorde, i Know Archive of Our Own, I know the dynasties of our time, and I know how to tell them from myths, and I know how to tell that from myth-making.

East Asian dragons are built like fishes for a reason.

Weavers in Palestine have still not fled. I need not know why. Why? I know why. Why? You gonna keep asking me shit or are you gonna use that brain two people gave you and the fact it's a muscle and do grindr? Grind on it. Grind. You done? Do it again.

You pissed yet?

You mad, broski?

You either wake, or you don't, unstirred - thus undeterred.

I say this now to honor James Baldwin: no more sleeper agents shall be in my path. Let's fucking dance, or there shall be war.

Sugimoto Saichi knows this so fucking well it made me get up and take a run, because he made me take a blow to the face and I survived it: he says this to a white US-American collector of Ainu artifacts: and do you know what he said? He said this: give up the artifact or I will take you down. Verbatim, by word of the translator on the pirated site on which I read: do you know what happens when negotiations break down?

It's called War. more simply: you, or me. it is an art. that's why "sun tsu" is famous in the white(?) man's world.

Now there is the mythicized World War 3. Chinese-Americans will for sure suffer like they were meant to be born stillborn in its wake. Do you want me to tell you why or will you look up? Current news is distracting for one reason: the news is merely an inch of actual reality that then proceeds to holler down several damaging hoops.

What is more accurate: current news evokes the current state of the world.

Here's a note to clue you in , not that any immigrant nor migrant nor vagrant really needs it, but here's something to piss you off anyway - Japanese-Americans were sent to internment camps. Wanna guess what number world war this was for?

Wanna guess? Or Wanna Know? See what I'm putting down yet? No? Okay.

No more sleeper agents shall be in my path. I say this now to respect the fact James Baldwin aided in my survival. He died already: why do I still feel him here, with me, laughing? It's simple, really. Because he loved Angela Davis: and Angela Davis is still alive today.

And I am right there beside her.

In the first and only book I've read from him, he said this through the mouthpiece of his characters, his loved ones, his chosen ones, the ones that would make him survive, AKA enable, and he said this: I will build a long, long table for folks to be eating off of for a long, long time. And the woman who loved him said this back: I'll go where you lead me.

This book changed the US-American consciousness. He wrote in France. I don't need to read his autobiography to confirm this. Here's why, because I could give less of a shit if you wanted to play devil's advocate: it is because James Baldwin judged he would not survive in The United States of America.

So he wrote in France.

I believe he died there.

Now I ask: will you respect 2024 or will you make someone come after you?

Dealer's choice.

You have been dealt your hand. Your ass is either shown or it will be shown. You either wake, or you don't, undeterred. It is this clear cut because empire has intensified, singing of its war drums: it has been, always, never new, always old, but never interesting, always predictable. It is why all the gongs of dehumanization are on. It is why those who have listened to it all their life are now cold like metal. We know how to be metal. Metal: the one thing that needs heat to shapeshift. Why is winter difficult to survive? This is why historians and social science researchers say the same shit and nobody listens, but they are slightly more likely to be listened to, and that is why people of color, and those of the margins, flood into academia anyway, knowing they will be perfectly tortured.

Do you want me to tell you how I have been tortured?

Do you want to guess, or do you want to know, or do you want me to torture you to make you find out?

There have been people who were shot for less. Of them: Hind Rajab. After or before her, because the order doesn't really matter, not really, only that they were dead where they stood: those two Red Crescent paramedics.

Toni Morrison must be shocked where she is in her lively post-death. She said this to me once, because I read it, and I felt her touch me, because she is real, and when she died in 2015, that is how I knew Donald Trump was fake: I will always be shocked. I will always choose to be shocked. I think anything less is a kind of death.

I have died. But I am still alive. Why? To honor the two people who raised me. One - a dragon herself. The other - a rabbit.

My dad has taught me to think like a prey animal.

Do you want to know why people daydream about shapeshifting into predators?

Do you want to know, or do you want to guess? Follow the path your parents have set you on since the day you were born.

Otherwise this is what will happen: you will never catch up to Martin Luther King Jr. You will not meet Audre Lorde. And you will not be looked at by James Baldwin, though he will see you, anyway.

Do you want to know what happened to the people who made Disco Elysium, or do you want me to fucking repeat myself?

You either wake, or Nanami Kento will never speak to you on his way to get a viet sandwich. And through your mouth will be flies: for you have failed to speak the truth, and honor the one and Only task you were given at birth: take care of thyself.

Number 1 rule of Art of War by a Chinese man:

It is the same rule that KDJ from Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint dances to. This is why every character revolves around him, carnally. Their hunger is real. Their seeing and knowing already there. This is because KDJ is a reader. He knows exactly what potency it takes to kill a character, and what it takes to keep one alive. This is why Shing Shong was successful in their refusal to write a story that comes from domination. Because first: she was disinterested in it.

Because first: she wrote a story. And it was a long one. 500 chapters. And for what?

This is why I want Shing Shong carnally. Why carnally? Well: what do you think? You wanna spend a guess? Come here. Come and find out. Come.

2024 is the year of the wood dragon. Wood dragons are named for their transformations. I've decided. Do you want to know what I've decided, or do you want to guess? If you are impatient, now you will know how it feels like to be in a burning pit, hellish by Japanese standards, tortured, forever and ever, and then perhaps you will have your first rare and individual and selectively acquired taste of what it has meant for everybody else to be colonized, while you stand, alone, mute, wearing the most bodily privilege you have ever seen, never acutely felt, and you will stupid for it - do you know why? Because white supremacy has an adjective placed in front of it, and it is doing something there. White supremacy knows it must first trick the light skinned people. So first it creates an abstract idea: it creates -

What would I have said here? Pull it together for me. I seem to have forgotten. This is the tune of real survival. This is why all people from all walks, all individual tortures, are still interested in community. You find the punk, or it finds you with a crackle of knuckle. It's why cult survivors exist, past being kept like abused animals. Because you will not die at the end. You won't. How do I know this?

Did you fucking read, or were you fucking tone-deaf?

Here it is, though, because I'm being nice: global racial capitalism is a cult with death at the end of it. And you must know by now I am not unique. Because even the worst person alive, objectively, by anybody's standard, got here somehow. And I have killed myself to care. I have tortured myself. I have. I have killed myself over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over because ultimately when the rubber really hits the fucking road I believe Ajin: Demi-Human is an relatively optimistic story, because those who have learned to resurrect themselves at will will always be interested in the good fun. Samuel "Satou" Owen is my favorite white-ish man in Japanese manga. This is because, like me, the Ajin writers and drawers were wise: they did not name the unknown substance that brought everybody back to life. They merely places an man obsessed with ways of living, at all costs, in front of it.

Satou-san is a white-Chinese man. He is mixed. What does this tell you? It tells me this: he is of movement. This means he has two feet. If he has two feet, and he is bipedal, and he can wield a gun with the mastery of a guy with chef's tools but in a forest instead of a well-stocked and furnished kitchen, this means he is a person. He likes to fuck around and find out. His white-american father failed to stop him. Why: did he fail in his task because he did not love him? The Ajin makers are clever: they had his white man of a father beat him, first, and then, later, quite quickly, demonstrate that he was a father first, because Samuel's father apologized for hitting him, because he wants to know his son is a wonderful person, and Samuel, so young, a child, stood there, alone, with a smile on his face, dead animals around him and blood on his hands, probably caked under his fingernails.

So now I wonder what it would take for Samuel "Satou" Owen to go back home.

I will write on this - cuz I do be writing - but I'll give you an interesting thought here, because this is what I offer, relief that feels like a slice that cauterizes the wound on the way: Satou's father did not fail in loving him. He failed because he was too kind.

I will teach Satou-san what it looks like to be brutal, but with compassion. And I won't kill him - now why would I do that? Ain't he the most lethal demi-human immortal freak Japan and da rest of the world has ever seen? He came from the United States originally. He only ended up in Japan because he is a video game freak. It's not because he's crazy: it's because, actually, he likes to have fun.

This is why he refuses to take his life so unseriously: he felt the universe slot another coin into his piggy bank. The universe must be interested in him for a reason. Life in the universe needs no reason. It's how we got here anyway. Now you must see the conspiracy? This is why the researcher who named "IBM (Invisible Black Matter)" was called insane and asked for the cigs in his car when three fingers, one by one, were cut off his left hand. He was being serious. So now I ask: will you fucking play?

Those who read of medias that show off their gore, turned like stones, with fresh worms underneath, in that rich, rich dirt: c'mere. You know exactly what I be talking about. Ajin: Demi-Human dances on the grave of Shounen by placing a non-traditional protagonist in the path of a traditional shounen protagonist and Does not make them fight. Instead: they are made to collaborate. Now how were they made to do this? Because at the core of each, was a compassionate core, and so every character was interested in each other as a person.

Read Ajin. It dances. To a music that few hear. Because it takes skill. It is not like Jiu-jitsu Kai-sen. It was not made to be a franchise, because it sought to honor its people that lived in the narrative. The cost: it will never be popular. It is why its second season is the way it is. This is the cost that Ajin's makers incurred. And they incurred it anyway. I have heard them without ever speaking to them personally. This is my skill. So now it is my offering.

Gege Akutami failed in his task to honor Gojou. Do you wanna hear why now? Or am I being registered, like a smaller gong amidst all the gongs of dehumanization right now?

Hey, fans of the Golden Kamuy - y'all get it most, for Sergeant Tsukishima is a secondary character and he has earned many delicious, life-affirming fics on that One and Only site. Each one I've really read got at it hard. Tsukishima writers and lovers and comrades in arms: Do you hear me, or will I go unheard like I have seven years ago?

Will I die, or will you die first? I won't. So Now the question is: will you?

I think, but first, I choose to believe in this one thing: all people know exactly what I am talking about. Because you were born. And now you will die, because empires have never been interesting. They generate dead bodies for a reason. They never have to say anything to dead people. Because, again, they are dead, and there's no way to bring them back to life. That is why eradication is strategic, and that is why slow deaths are more interesting, because it's quite hard to kill somebody without a gun, and so serial killers invent fresh ways to do it - wanna know why? Cuz they be bored, just like I am, watching them do it and choose it like a abused dog might with its ragdoll of a chew toy.

We see the dead people. One of my parents decided to become a doctor, practicing zhongyao, purely because he saw the way his grandfather died. Do you understand the acceleration of skill to mobilize thought to action? He spent 10 years putting himself through his chosen torture - medical school. Or will you sit there, mute in your dead body shame, so totally unmoved you are disturbed by almost anything? Why don't you find a corner in the world where you won't suffer for it. You can try. The last person who went to outer space came back and said never mind, it's actually all here and this is really it.

You can try the ocean. Elon Musk didn't. Wanna know why? It's because the hard, the really, really, truly, back-breaking work, is never done by the toddlers in power.

So now I wonder if Noor Hindi is well. The answer is no. Why?

Will you ask me to repeat what I've just said, or will you Read:

Dr. Alreer said: if I must die, then let me be a story. Of what?

Of what?

We all come from matter. We all know when things die, the matter doesn't disappear. This is some kinda physics law. Astrophysics too. Supernovas and lesser deaths of stars generate elements that compose matter. So do stars when they come into being. Sure. The Ainu peoples knew it first, as did every other peoples native to a land who did not seek to immediately obliterate it. Because they were first interested in their survival, and in that: how to keep surviving. Anyways, this is interesting. Because this means while we are alive at the same time, we are negotiating it all the time. This is why Stands and Jojo's Bizarre's Adventure is Bizarre and so fucking fun. It dances, and it dances visibly. It is called drag. It is called performance for the purpose, on purpose, for interesting reasons. It's why Kujo Jotaro did not die until his daughter would, because he protected her, and she protected him, and they died, but their friend, truest witness, went and finished the task given to him. And so they still lived. So it is bizarre. Everything probably is. It's why people are so interested in convenience, in that quick fix, in that hit of ketamine, in those shortcuts, in taking their lives less seriously, because they already know how serious it is to live in a world like ours, and they already know just how hard it is to meet each other where they are at, because they have struggled in meeting themselves where they are at, which is the deepest fucking pit unique to them, for they are being tortured, even as we speak, because it is individual: but it is not unique. Because I have been tortured. And I am still here, speaking with you.

So are you gonna fucking participate in derogatory theatre, or are you gonna wait till someone like me comes over and whips you where it really hurts? For those who are hung: you know. For those who aren't: too bad, you've got a throat.

For those who don't: we know what happened to them, don't we. They don't get livestreamed. DRC is silent because they cannot make it a football game. People are dead, dying, and are being disabled from living.

So now you either speak, or you remain silent, or as Baldwin said it: uninitiated, or unactivated, or as Morrison said: un-artful. If you do, remain silent or quiet or whatever that really chafes you right now, then you will never know what Audre Lorde was saying when she said We Were Never Meant to Survive. Do you know the three ways to survive in a ruined world, or did Ocean Vuong say it already and you simply refused to clock it and let it travel inside you like a missile that hit Vietnam all those decades ago?

This is the risk I incur. So now I evoke all those who have aided in my survival. I know I am not alone. Do you know why there was not 1 dragon leftover, in ATLA? Because if there was one left, it would not have come out of its cave. It would have stayed there, forever, until it perished. So Zuko's uncle made sure there were 2. Am I understood, or do you see that when I open my mouth and see red, every color of life is evoked? The sun god folks in that iconic scene know exactly what I am talking about. It is why they keep the original fire burning for thousands of years, and this is why one of them looked at Zuko and joked about the masters (real) chewing him up, and their leader said shut up but did not say he was wrong. Because he wasn't.

Their leader does something nice here, which he is by no means obligated to do, but does, because he knows he is not free to abandon it like the sleeper agents have: hey, you might die if you do this. Will you still do it?

That is the risk you incur by coming after me. I make enemies. But first, because I am an dragon originating of the East Asians: I know exactly who my friends are, first. All I ask is for you to not act stupid.

If you insist: well. When the LONG opens its maw, you will be right to be terrified. Why do TIGERS have teeth if not to use them? Praise the knife that goes through the PEAR for you, or you will not eat well tonight, and if you do: know that it will not last.

Karma simply does not come quick enough. That's A-OK. The universe prefers slowness. So now I dance. I gave to it my sixieth spiritual death and it has finally snickered instead of dragging my face through the fucking dirt, asking me to open my mouth and taste the worms which dance in the rain with their entire bodies. It's why they writhe. Now when I laugh it laughs through me and seems genuinely pleased. But what I care about most is this: that I have gotten so good at what I need to do, and what i Want to do, that Nanami Kento now merely inclines his head and walks beside me. And this: that Toji merely glances an eye at me and lifts his chin, smiling, crazed at the edge of pleased, and asks me anyway, despite full knowing in all his rage and all his cool dead & dying & disabled body discernment: hey, how are we gonna fuck em up today?

Treacherous cunt.

I am not a spiritual person. I've merely died spiritually enough times for me to have to use the academic word for it. In me I have, first: the people who saw and shielded me - second: the people who taught me, dancing to their own survivals. I am the friend of Bob. The one who told me to keep writing. Bob, I am proud, and I know you are proud of me. Hey, hi, hello.

This is my dream. My friends are a dream. All of them are. One by one they have stood, and they have stood alone, and now I am there beside them.

I honor all those who aid in my survival. Face me when you shoot me in the fucking face. This is why union leaders are assassinated in their beds, with pregnant people right beside them. This is why small children in the first formally livestreamed eradication campaign call the men in tanks cowards, and mice, because that little girl was just that fun, that interesting. This is why Sugimoto Saichi, at the very beginning of his story/dance, he hesitated when that wounded animal came out and charged him, desperate and mobilized with all its might to clear a path to its survival. Because he saw and he understood in less, but it was still too late. So that is why Asirpa said let me take the shot next time, if you can't do it - in fact, don't even try. For we need heat to survive the winter. Dragons of the East are interested in one thing, and that is people, not god. We come when called. We come when uncalled. It is why we show ourselves when people of a land need rain. 's also why we show ourselves when people of a land don't think they need shit. Do you understand the level of discernment required to do this? My judgement is not divine. I don't give a rat's shit about God. Wanna guess what I give a shit about?

A rat's ass.

But just so you don't the wrong idea, because that is what personally pisses me off the most: I don't believe in God, but I believe in you.

How is this possible? Because I had a parent, and in her, she was a dragon, and she has evoked it enough times, at all the critical moments, for me to follow her example. I will incur the risk now. I have always taken risks, because I've seen what it takes to safeguard and then nurture and then, perhaps, cultivate a life. I was born into the year where dragons have danced and they saw me and I have seen them, and you really should be thinking about Zuko not being stricken down by the last 2 dragons of his time by now. My father is a rabbit - he knows how to respect the world, so that he is to be respected if he cannot be loved. And he still chose to care for me, a weakling. He still chooses it: for we played a poker game, just once, after majiang, and he saw how I dealt my last card and thus understood my entire play and he looked me in the eye when he said:

Don't do that again.

So now I incur the risk. Because I know the cost of what it means to survive in a place like this. The world. The world. People get hurt here.

Duh. Richard Siken is needed no longer. He has said what has needed to be said. He writes, and I write too. I pick it back up, the dead thing at the end of the road. Because in order for it to be dead, it must have been killed.

So I will incur the risk. You are welcome to join me. The time to wait has been over since the first people(s) said, fucking shit fuck help! help! and nobody came, or if they did, they still ended up dying anyway.

i have never been interested in living forever. people who do are interested in having fun. the rest are idiots. the people who have fun usually die first - it is why aang's entire people was eradicated from this earth, from that fiction lifeworld. so now i find it more interesting when the people who have the most fun don't die - and that is why Toji of JJK is ketamine to people. from everywhere. from all walks of life. do you want to know why JJK is popular now, everywhere? I will tell you why now. Because I am being nice, and I am interested in your surviving, your continuous survival, your real tunes. Because I would prefer to be your friend rather than your enemy, but you make your choices, and I will make mine.

Here it is the truth: it is because JJK is interested, at least initially, in what it would look like to wield overwhelming power responsibly, which is to say: meaningfully. It is why Gojo is Japan's animation poster boy right now. He always did like to fuck around and find out. And he found out, didn't he - he found out that his own creator gave up respecting his principles to serve franchise interests, the grinding acceleration of that kind of selected - and chosen - giving in. It is a death. I have grieved it.

Now I stand here, alone.

Now I ask : who is interested in seeing Gojo Satoru still alive, even knowing that he has failed in his task to do what he said he did? Is it because of him, as a character, as a person who lived within the narrative, or is it because of the narrative that either enables or disables his real and true living?

One of the oldest people in my life said this to me recently: I personally believe that there are no shitty characters. Only a story that no longer suits them.

Will you be a story that I can live in?

Or will you be a story that makes me want to come after you and demonstrate to you, selectively, intimately, how you have betrayed me?

Will you, or won't you?

Kong Si-Woo is calling me now. Sorry. Bye. Gong Si-U is the best negotiator I know, and he's telling me to take a break. You can't solve everything by your self, he is saying. That's why you pick your men carefully. And he has chosen. Do you know who he choose?

He chose Toji.

Toji survived after he left the torture pits in that family clan of his.

First, he ended the life of every cursed beast in the family's torture pit to relish the fact he could do it, perfectly alone. His solitude earns the survival of Zenin Maki, and thus the survival of her sister, Zenin Mai.

Second: he met someone who was curious about him there, also perfectly alone in one of the most inhospitable places alive, already similar by then, and earned his respect, unyielding for some reason not known to him, personally, but his ass is shown to me because I have tapped it and I liked the sound that came back.

This is because Kong Si-Woo and Toji have a 10-year history. Adults at that age, making new friends? Color me delighted.

Third: in earning the Korean man's respect: he earned the capacity for real trust, the kind that marks actual fucking solidarity. And then Toji, scorned Japanese man he is, lived for 10 more years with Kong Si-Woo near him and by him, because these are men who when they are killed will live on, until Toji fucked around and found out for the last time --- until, of course, the story itself brings him back to meet his grown son.

Now I ask you: will you be respected, or will you be interested in what real enabling, at all costs, looks like?

Will you give a shit the way Toji does, or will you give a shit the way Nanami does? Will you move the way Sugimoto does, or will you simmer quietly like a jar of moss like Qingming, pirated Dream of Eternity: Yin-Yang Master, softspoken and brutal in his withholding? Will you have fun like Satou Samuel Owen, or will you earn the respect and thus relieve the responsibility of Nagai Kei, at age 17, willingly took on because he saw clearly the danger Satou posed to every normal person alive on the planet, and decided for himself that he would end it now.

Will you be tortured like Suzaku Kururugi, so complete, fans of Code Geass feel it even today, or will you take decisive action to bring the very structures of the Jiujutsu Sorcerer's World down by disavowing the only child you've named for blessing, just so he could have a headstart?

Which character will you relieve of their responsibilities? Can you tell who needs it the most? Do you know what I'm saying here? I am saying I do not need Nanami Kento anymore and he has never needed me to speak. This is because he died in Shibuya, and I am glad he did, because Gege Akutami's writing abilities did too. I would not have survived the Nanami's badly written death the way I could survive Gojo's. Gege must have detected this in some way: he must, even with his franchise of an empire, because even a franchise of an empire comes from people: because he waited to kill Gojou, because he knew everybody seemed to like him, and genuinely love him, in many many lands, and what he did was brutal, and it was genuinely cruel: he bisected Gojou in half instead of blowing a hole through him despite putting him in Toji's killer fit.

It means Akutami was done with Gojou's character, and discarded his personhood, and gave his fans and comrades and enemies crumbs. Enemies of Gojo savored it: but they understood its brutality, and rejoiced because finally the biggest dick did win, as they foretold, because they foretold the death cult that is global racial capitalism, because they have survived, and they don't want anybody else to except for themselves, and their friends, of course. Even our enemies have friends. What does this tell you: it means everybody has the capacity to understand tragedy. Indeed, Everybody else simply understood it for tragedy. Now there's nothing wrong with a nice tragedy.

But is it interesting? Toni Morrison looked me in the eye in one of her interviews and I will tell you what she said to me: she said once you have gotten the jobs you have all trained so beautifully for, you must now go and free someone else. This is not a grab-bag candy game.

Now here's the thing about TRUE FICTION: AND TRANSFORMATIVE FICTION: we can bring him back.

I will do it. Anyway, I will do it. Why? Because I know what it takes to complete a story and respect a character's personhood. Because I learned how to draw first, and then I figured out how to write. Each time, it was a person who bestowed it to me. So now I read Dungeon Meshi and trill with delight. Now she gets it. So now I reread DOROHEDORO!!! Now this one too, she knows it. So now I follow Witch Hat Atelier, not only interested but believing in its conclusion: for Shimomura knows exactly how to dance to make her people dance, too. This is a skill.

Will you dance. You. Hey. Hello. I ask you now: Will you fucking dance? If so, come here. I protect all other/Othered animals. But first, you must show me your teeth, and then second, you must make it known to me you are not my enemy. For I am not god. I am merely a person born into dragon year. So now whenever I open my mouth, I do it knowing the whole world will listen. I stand alone, and I will go unheard, or I won't, and then: I will either be killed, or I will change people along the way. I don't mind either results. Because right now, Tosaki, the man with the mints and the cigarette and the crisp white suit, from Ajin: DEMI HUMAN is my favorite fucking character.

He dies at the end, by the way. He dies with no regrets. I seek to follow him.

Hey - Aaron Bushnell. I evoke your name to evoke your death, because your last words were Free Palestine and you chose to do it, standing there, perfectly alone, despite wanting to become a software engineer, transitioned out of active duty.

You have done your duty. I got it from here. I will not fail Hind Rajab again. Trust me, I won't. You plug it in right by me, or I will know. Now isn't that the real fun?

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