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almasidaliano · 3 years

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“listen to your thoughts”

shout out to the god beings not only nurturing their god genes; also spreading truth and knowledge to the youth ‘bout what it all means. i got pulled away, i still exist within a hectic day to day however this seed simply must be spread.

here it is my two cents; listen with an open mind and then you decide what your inner truth is.

every definition society has written about what it means to be successful, accepted, even morally good are just distractions you can’t “visualize” because they’re ingrained in the way you conceptualize. i know that sounds strange, you see the things they don’t say, and/or label “fiction/fake/stay away” are answers to questions they don’t want to explain. they (& who the fuck is they anyway? they make your hell comfortable, so you found - contentment? and caved. so as their dreams went from pictures to reality, we?- scribbled on our paintings and took our place within this insanity? perpetuating stereotypes, ALL THE -ISMS, inequality, and innocent victims steadily die, because their hatred stained our minds. i’ll tell you a secret “power lies in the compliance.” the natives of this land, were too “peaceful” at the time to keep it. who the fuck is anyone to tell you who to be? or who you are? or what it is that you deserve? who is anyone to condemn you or even idolize your worth? NOBODY IS SUPERIOR DUMMIES. if you here, we all chosen in this realm for something. we are all one. you can’t be better at being me than me, and vice versa. your dreams are yours. YOUR CONFIDENCE, your DREAMS, YOUR VOICE, YOUR CHOICES- they are YOURS ALONE. when you enter this world you have to trust your senses as a baby, because you don’t naturally understand this language; or at least how to verbally communicate with it.

pop quiz : what’s society’s favorite thing to do to the youth?

answer? CRUSH THEIR DREAMS, teach them “discipline” and “obedience”. navigate their paths so they are fit their labels and view the rest of the world like that.

minorities are the majority. no one talks about that tho. the physiques of our black queens, they couldn’t copy to a T. so they redrew “beauty” so we wouldn’t fit the definition. colorism further dividing the unity we existed in. cause there’s this crazy misconception that “light skins” have it best; except we don’t cause in the end they treat us just like they treat them. the only difference is, we were their jestures, their entertainment. our humiliation satisfies them, something dangerous. we’re the guinea pigs, we’re the bastards, we’re the “mistakes” that weren’t mistakes until you saw our pigmentation. our thick curly hair and the magic we contain. envy beloveds, is a terrible thing. and reflections we love to to condemning the aggressors; it’s 2021 at this point are we any better? all this turmoils make y’all bitter. y’all keep telling them to change. they want y’all to fight so they can keep doing the same things. keep making you the villain, and taking your humanity away. change your ideology about everything. look into everything. take what hits, resonates and fits your ideal existence. if you believe in magic, you can do anything be persistent.

be original. be weird, it means authentic and eccentric. they coated their amazement with a tone of isolation, this cold negative connotation. don’t speak out, don’t stand out, they wanted to keep us caged in. athletes don’t have to dumb, nerds aren’t awkward at all, everyone can be friends, just takes a little respect that’s all. fuck your parents. fuck their ideas and their wants for you. if you want for you, why live your life based off of others? you owe no one anything. if you take advice and things go wrong, whose fault is it?

yours. why? because they ADVISED, can’t a soul make you do shit in this life. so only do what you want to, you’ll find more fulfillment, or at the least a lesson in growth. because no matter who you tryna please, the weight is all your own. so why not let it be your own?

money is nothing, if your times truly valuable. you shouldn’t do shit for money, cause you’ll hate the conditions of your routine environment that constricts your growth and then you can wilt away entirely. wealth and fortune are obtained by the bold, whether heinous or innovation it’s the risk the passion behind a dream one can’t not indulge in. if you wouldn’t die for what you’re doing, for how you’re living change that shit.

if being you makes people you thought you had leave, thank your ancestors and guides for the cleansing of your space. you have to love you like you love whatever you believe in. if your creator made you as you are, why you letting someone who has no idea what your purpose is, deter your focus?

ever heard of body dysmorphia ? they got society in a soul purpose dysmorphia. got warriors, philosophers, healers, teachers, leaders, builders, hunters, farmers etc., “magic” capabilities they got you convinced are just make believe, yet so a man thinketh so is he. you still w me? so look, maybe it’s hard, maybe it’s on the side of the unpopular opinion. matching energy ain’t what’s in, maintain your shit and balance will align with it. CONFIDENCE CONFIDENCE CONFIDENCE. away with putting ourselves down, self criticism is not self bashing.

really it’s the influence the outside seems to have on people. i got beat on and bullied because i’m a nerd an athlete and i’m pretty. i don’t “condemned” for disagreeing with certain interpretations and meanings within religion because they contradicted the things “followers” were being. in the end, i defended myself by any means, even got the congregation viewing the world like little ole me, i saved and kept saving the souls shelled up in the “outcasts” the “rebels”. even some souls in the pawns tainted and evil. because when i speak, you feel my meaning. i’m the poster child for every ounce of “difference” they’re trying to label “abomination” now, and still somehow i’m America’s favorite flower child. i am the voice for the weak, and the scared, and those who still don’t have courage to share, for those who think nobody cares; maybe they don’t, sometimes they will and sometimes they won’t, for those who feel nothing but anger, just rage; for the wanderers who don’t know whether they can effect change. you can do anything, YOU WANT TO DO. people die for no reason, they die with regret, they die after a life they never truly lived. honestly, for god sakes people just fucking live. as you see fit, make mistakes learn from them. network and connect with neighbors. don’t hate ignorant strangers.

create a force field for yourself, meditate and visualize the energy around you. keep all negativity and leeching energy away. remind yourself you are as you are perfection. everyday. and then just be okay?

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thederailedtrain · 5 years

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The Mark of Oblivion: City Hall Station [Four]

As Gus opened his mouth, Cedric jumped in. “Perhaps when we get back to the shop?” He suggested, raising his eyebrows at Gus. “Toni, if you would?”

While the former Harbinger rolled her eyes, Gus took hold of Sophie’s hand and led her over. “You’re gonna want to close your eyes and take a deep breath,” he warned. “And don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

Without anything to go on, Sophie just nodded her head and followed along. Gus looked to Cedric, then Toni, as they each took hold of her outstretched arms. That same feeling from before and after the Central Park battle greeted him almost immediately - the one of losing form and slipping through the earth. The other times he’d traveled with magic, it was more of a spinning sensation. This was like one of those dreams where he did nothing but fall.

When they landed, it was with the same kind of jolt as waking up suddenly. Gus gasped, letting the air fill his lungs once more. Sophie, on the other hand, let out a yelp of surprise, covering it up with the back of her hand. “Where are we?” She whispered, looking around at the alley they’d suddenly found themselves in. “How...We were just in the subway-”

“That was a teleportation spell,” Gus explained. He could see the reality of the last hour settling over her. He recognized the mix of chemical signals she was giving off. They were the same emotions he’d experienced himself after his first brush with the Harbingers.

“Chaos-guided transference spell, but not bad for a non-caster,” Toni cut in. She turned to Cedric and added, “Speaking of, I think that’s my cue. Have a good night - oh, and you’re welcome.”

Her last words were still echoing about the alley as she disappeared in a mass of shadows. Yeah, that’s about what he expected. Gus shook his head, but he couldn’t help admiring her style. He’d have to remember to thank her properly next time he saw her.

“A spell?” Sophie asked. “Like magic?” Her voice cracked on the second syllable and Gus’s attention snapped back to her. Even after watching Toni dissolve into smoke, Sophie still seemed unsure. Looked like she was having a harder time reconciling the idea of magic with her scientific background than he had all those months ago.

Gus sighed, looking to Cedric for some kind of assistance. The Warden said nothing, but nodded for them to follow him into the shop. Of course Cedric wanted him to do this himself - Gus heard him say as much when they were on the platform. Really, though, he was probably the worst person out of everyone to explain the concept of magic. But this was Sophie. He’d be damned if he didn’t give it his best.

So he followed after Cedric, hand automatically moving to Sophie’s lower back. There was a split second where Sophie jumped away from the touch before allowing herself to settle back into it. It was like their first date and he was a stranger all over again.

Heart sinking lower and lower into his chest with each step, Gus struggled to find the words. “So, you, erm...during my fight with Bryce, you asked what I was,” Gus started, careful to keep his voice low. Sophie looked up at him in surprise. “Yeah, I caught that. I have really good hearing - well, superhuman hearing - because I’m…” He trailed off as they reached the shop entrance. Gus held the door open for Sophie, but the bells overhead didn’t jingle until he stepped over the threshold himself. “Because I’m a werewolf, Sophie.” There it was. Telling her so plainly didn’t make the words any easier to say. Three months in, and he was still getting used to the idea himself.

The look of shock that took over Sophie’s features didn’t make the gnawing in Gus’s stomach any better. She was simultaneously the first and last person he wanted to confess to. And it was all because of this right here. Seeing that expression firsthand was far worse than what he’d been picturing.

Rather respectfully, Cedric decided to give them the room. It was only after he’d left for his flat that Sophie spoke. “When you started disappearing all of the sudden...this definitely isn’t what I was expecting,” she admitted and Gus let out a nervous chuckle.

“Yeah, I don’t think it would make most people’s lists,” he agreed. Gus thought back to when Kira first started taking on Otherworld cases. How distant she was, and the mysterious bruises and cuts appearing on her skin. His worst fears ran the gamut of drugs and underground fight clubs. Magic was the farthest thing from his mind.

“Have you been a werewolf...the whole time we were dating?” Sophie asked. And before Gus could say anything, Sophie answered for him. “Or did it start that time you said you were visiting family?”

For a few seconds, Gus was silent. In all honesty, he knew he shouldn’t be surprised. That was probably when he did a complete one-eighty. “Yeah,” Gus sighed. It sounded pretty defeated. His girlfriend had been onto him since day one, she just didn’t know what she was onto. “As it turns out, not a total lie; my family is full of werewolves. Who knew?” Sophie offered him a dim smile. She was trying. “And then I, um, had to quit the cross country team because being a werewolf gives me a bit of an unfair advantage. So I started working here to make up the money I lost with the scholarship. That’s why I had to run out on so many dates. This shop is kind of a magical...hub for the Tristate area. We basically do municipal jobs here and there, but mostly all we’ve been doing recently is fighting the Harbingers - that’s guys like Bryce- Sorry, this is getting off track.”

Poor Sophie, he could see the confusion in her eyes. At least when the masquerade had lifted for him, it was easier to follow. “No, no, it’s fine,” Sophie assured him, though that was probably the farthest thing from her truth. “So are Kira and your boss and, um, Toni werewolves too?”

Now that actually made Gus laugh. “No, Kira’s a witch and Cedric is an incubus,” he explained. When Sophie’s brows narrowed at the last word, he went on, “An incubus is, I dunno, like a sex demon - No, wait, that’s a terrible description. He’s a really cool guy, I promise.”

“And what did you call Bryce? An arbiter?” Sophie’s face scrunched up as she struggled with the recollection.

“A Harbinger,” Gus corrected. “But he’s technically a witch, he just also happens to be a Harbinger. Toni was in the same boat- Well, she still kind of is. Think of it like switching fields of study. You’re not in ecology anymore, but you still have a couple months left in your subscription to The ISME Journal. I’m... I’m doing a terrible job of explaining this right now, aren’t I?”

Magic was a confusing mess; Gus knew that better than anyone. He had hoped to ease Sophie into this, not throw her to the wolves - metaphorically speaking. It was inevitable, Gus knew that much. For their relationship to progress, the truth would have to come out eventually. Some nights, he stayed up for hours imagining how the confession would go. He had the whole spiel memorized. But now that the opportunity was staring him in the face, it was wiped from his mind like an emergency cram session before a big test.

“I’m sorry,” Gus sighed. He just couldn’t erase the memories of Bryce’s smug face from his mind. “I’ve been wanting to tell you about this ever since it happened, but there’s all kinds of laws in the Otherworld - the magical world - about telling mortals. Plus, Kira and Cedric were involved and I didn’t want to out them without their knowledge. You deserve to know the truth about me, but I’m so sorry that it happened this way. Promise, I can do a much better job of explaining this if I start over-”

“No, it’s alright,” Sophie cut him off with a shake of her head. “You don’t have to explain anything more to me.”

For the first time that night, Gus saw something genuine in Sophie’s smile. She even reached out a hand to him; another first of the night. Gus accepted it gleefully. Here was the thing he’d been dreading telling his girlfriend for months and all that anxiety was for nothing. Really, he should’ve guessed she’d be able to take it all in stride. He knew his girlfriend better than-

“You don’t have to explain anything more because I don’t think I want to know,” Sophie told him. Her smile turned to an apologetic wince that made Gus’s nerves start pinging off each other. Wait, what was she saying? “Your boss mentioned he could help me forget? I think I’d like that.”

Gus tasted something acid on the back of his throat. He tried to swallow it down, but it refused to leave. “So you...don’t want to be with me anymore?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course I still want to be with you,” Sophie gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “But I just can’t know about...any of this, really. The magic, and the witches, and everything else. You said I wasn’t supposed to know, and I don’t know how else to explain it, but I can feel that. You understand, right?”

No, Gus really didn’t understand. But, then again, he’d been destined to become part of the Otherworld his whole life. He nodded anyway.

“I mean, I’m alright with you being a...a werewolf,” Sophie continued. God, she had an even harder time saying it than he did. “But I’m also alright going back to not knowing. You can just keep telling me whatever it was you told me before when you had to do, um, werewolf things. That way you can still keep it a secret. I’ll be fine with it, really.”

Except for the fact that she was lying. Months ago, Toni had called him a walking polygraph. Gus hadn’t fully grasped what that meant until that moment. And he didn’t like forging ahead in their relationship by building off that lie, whether her memories were changed or not. Gus wanted to say this, along with a hundred other things, but all that came out was;

“Alright.” He even smiled when he said it. Either he’d gotten better at covering his emotions or Sophie was just eager to buy the lie, because she brightened at his response. “Let me just get Cedric for you.”

While Sophie waited in the lobby, Gus ran to grab Cedric. To his utter lack of surprise, the incubus had been standing in his living room, waiting for him. He may have been leaning against the couch with Kira and Salazar, but the way he’d been watching for the door gave him away. Gus could see the resignation in Cedric’s eyes when he beaconed him over.

“You knew this would happen, didn’t you?” The werewolf asked, once they were alone in the hallway.

The sudden difficulty Cedric had meeting his eye was very telling. “I should’ve warned you,” was all he said.

“Yeah,” Gus agreed before Cedric could apologize. “Yeah, you should’ve.”

Across the room, Kira gave him a look. No doubt Cedric had briefed them on everything that just went down, but there was still a question on her face. “Later,” Gus mouthed, and left it at that.

Cedric and Gus made their way back to the lobby in silence. Sophie hadn’t moved an inch from when he’d last seen her. When she smiled up at Gus, his lips curled into a mirror of her own. It was only once he reached the bottom step that he realized the reaction was Pavlovian. An automatic physical response to visual stimuli. On his emotions did not warrant.

While Cedric approached Sophie, Gus hung back. The lights in the shop were all turned out, but the large bay window out front let in more than enough streetlight for him to see. Combined with his enhanced hearing, it was like he was standing right next to the two of them.

“Hey, there,” Cedric’s voice was soft. It reminded Gus of the way he spoke to Matilda during the séance. “I heard you were thinking of taking my earlier offer?” He paused, waiting for her nod of confirmation. “You won’t be able to forget entirely. The memories may return as dreams, but they won’t feel real. I can’t undo what you’ve seen. All I can do is make it a little easier for you.”

After a small breath, Sophie nodded. “I’m ready.”

“May I take your hand?” Cedric asked and Sophie held hers up. It was the same hand Gus had held just moments before. “Alright, now close your eyes and think back to everything that just happened.”

Just like before, Sophie did as Cedric instructed. From where Gus was standing, he could see Cedric tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, then place the fingers of his free hand to her temple.

But that was it. He wasn’t Kira - he couldn’t see magic or read the flow of energy. All Gus could do was watch and wait.

Thankfully, it didn't last long. Gus had only gotten to the foot shaking phase of his boredom fidgets when Sophie let out a sudden gasp and his attention was back on her. She blinked, looking around the room, before her eyes landed back on Cedric. The confusion cleared a moment later.

“Well, it was nice to meet you, Miss Maxwell,” Cedric said, shaking the hand he was still holding. “I’ve heard so many wonderful things from Gus.”

“It was nice to meet you too,” Sophie replied. Strike what Gus said earlier; this was her first genuine smile of the night. “Sorry again about making you open up your store after closing.”

Cedric leaned back, laughing. “Oh, it’s alright.” He sounded like he was talking to a customer. Then he turned to flash Gus a meaningful look. “You find your keys alright?”

So that’s what they were going with? Yeah, Gus could play along. “They were right where I left them,” he replied, pulling his keychain from his pocket. “Sitting behind the register this whole time. You good to head on out?”

“Ready whenever you are,” Sophie was all smiles as she took Gus’s hand. “Have a good night, Cedric!” She added as they left, throwing Cedric a friendly wave.

“And to you as well. Come back any time!” Cedric called. He waited until Sophie was out the door before whispering, “I really am sorry.” All Gus could do was turn around in the doorway and give his boss a solemn nod.

Once they were out in the cold night air, Sophie wasted no time wrapping herself tighter in her jacket. “God, it’s freezing out here,” She muttered. “Isn’t it supposed to be spring next week? I’ll never understand how your hands are always so warm. But...that does make them pretty nice to hold.”

Right, they were still holding hands. Gus looked down at where their hands were joined before letting his fingers slowly untwine from hers. When he looked back up, Sophie was staring at him strangely. He could smell the confusion wafting off of her, but there wasn’t a trace of fear. Dammit, this was so much harder when she was looking at him like that.

“Sophie…” Gus trailed off. It took a moment to sum up the courage for what he needed to say next. “I think we need to talk.”

#the mark of oblivion #n: the mark of oblivion #the magic shop #writing #my writing #katie writes sometimes

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whatscallion · 6 years

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‘my new romance-obsessed friend asked me who my last date was with and i was too embarrassed to say i’ve never been on a date so i blurted your name and it turns out they know you’ au or ‘i didn’t want to tell my friend who my real date last night was so i just pointed at a random stranger (you) but now they’re storming over to interrogate you and you’re playing along??? okay’ au

//- BAAAAAAAAAABE. You’ve worked so hard this semester, and you definitely deserve a break from the world and a break from school. Thank god there’s a break between semesters, yeah??? Anyways!! This is your reward ( one of many lbr ) for finishing the semester and only having one. More. Semester. To. Go.

Proud of you & luv u c:

Pairing: Natasha x Bucky

“Please, for the love of god, just stop talking.”

It made no sense why Sam was talking so much - they were in a library. Didn’t that mean that there was generally no talking allowed? Or at least, this much talking about a topic that Bucky really didn’t want to discuss? Especially with Sam “Hot Chocolate” Wilson? As if cramming for trigonometry wasn’t difficult enough, add a guy who can’t stop talking long enough to realize which class he was in, and Barnes was having more difficulty concentrating than he cared to admit.

“I’m just sayin’, man. When’s the last time you went on an actual date?” What was his major anyways? Buck could remember that during their senior year of high school, Sam had been relatively adamant about joining the Air Force, and yet? Bucky was fairly certain he applied to the same college as him out of spite. It made sense, but at the same time, why was this his life?

“I’m trying to study.” It was a very pitiful attempt at trying to get Sam to stop, but considering this conversation had been going on for about two weeks now, Buck was feeling a little worn down from it all.

“Like you even need to study. You’ve got As across the board. Bet.” This was enough to make Buck want to curl into a ball and disappear entirely. Instead, he just focused that much harder on the information in the book. But Sam was always super distracting. It was like he knew exactly what to do and what to say to make everyone’s attention move elsewhere. And goddamn it, it was working. “You go to the occasional party, yeah - I know you’re about to say that, but really, I’m talking about an actual date.”

This was driving him crazy, and desperation forced his hand to make up a lie. A very bold lie. One that he would immediately regret.

“Jesus Christ, Sam. I went on a date last week.” This got his attention, perking up his eyebrows in almost comical curiosity.

“Oh yeah?” He wasn’t really buying it by that tone. “With who? And don’t say that blonde girl who’s here on a dance scholarship. We both know you ain’t hitting that again.”

That was enough to make Buck wince, if only because a one night stand had turned into a several night stand … which inevitably became one huge dumpster fire that he occasionally feels the roast from. It was always Sam and Steve who doled out those memories.

“It was with Natasha.” A very bold lie indeed. Natasha was in the beginnings of a long career in college considering she was a med student, which made her prioritize academics above a social life, and she made sure people knew that with the sharpest of comebacks. Buck would be lying if he said he wasn’t taken by her sharp wit or her almost unnaturally red hair or the way she smiled like she knew a secret. Buck would only be furthering that lie if he said he hadn’t thought of asking her out regardless, but chickened out completely every time he took a step in her direction.

“Natasha,” Sam countered, obviously skeptical.

“Yeah, Natasha.”

“Romanoff.”

“That’s her last name, yeah.”

“You went on a date with Natasha Romanoff.” Even just hearing the lie made Buck think about telling the truth.

“Yeah, we had dinner.” Oh god, his mouth was moving without his brain’s permission. Sam looked at him a moment longer before looking around. Oh god, why was he looking around? Why, to point at Natasha who was actually sitting across the library from them, engrossed in some book.

“You had a date with her.” Sam didn’t take his eyes off Natasha, and Buck was coming closer and closer to the realization he fucked up completely in his lie. But his silence was met only with Sam standing from their table and sauntering over to Natasha. Every part of Buck wanted to curl up into the smallest ball ever and die. Just die. He could only bring his trig book up off the table and basically cover his face, because no one needed to see just how beet red he was getting out of sheer embarrassment of his lie being found out. His lie about Natasha Romanoff.

She was going to castrate him in the most professional way ever. He was sure of this. Buck was ready for the inevitable slap and glare.

It felt like ages until Sam came back, his expression unreadable as he continued his staring contest at the would-be engineer. It wasn’t until a smile broke out over his face - like the cat got the canary - that both relief and confusion his Buck like a raging bull in Madrid. This wouldn’t bode well. Why was he smiling like that?

“Nicely done, man. Scoring a date with the pretty redhead ain’t an easy feat, I’m sure, though I’m completely offended that you didn’t tell me.”

Wait. What. The confusion only deepened.

“Well uh, she wanted to be quiet about it, and I mean - it wasn’t a big deal or anyth- …”

“Not a big deal? Dude. DuDE. Bro. Dude.” If there was some higher being, Sam would stop this broken record of “Bro-isms”. Something heard his prayers as he hid behind his hands, trying to rub the entire situation from his eyes, for Sam quit talking. This was very unlike Sam in general, who could generally talk the ears off anyone. When Buck’s hands fell away, he was met with his friend staring at someone who was standing beside the table they sat at.

One glance up, and Buck wanted to throw up everywhere.

Natasha Romanoff was standing right there, staring down at Buck. Up close, she was startlingly beautiful. Never had he seen eyes so green and sharp, or that shade of crimson in naturally wavy hair. Though she was short, she still demanded a level of respect that someone with a much prouder stature would require. She was, for lack of better terms, incredibly intimidating.

‘If I could just die right now, that’d be great,’ Buck thought to himself.

“I think I left my jacket in your car, Barnes.” Oh christ, she’s playing along. She was even doing that lopsided smile - that secret smile.

“I can uh, get it for you if you want.” For some reason, this felt oddly intense and intimate despite Sam being right there, basically watching a movie for free. All he needed was overly buttered popcorn, and he would’ve been set.

“Nah, I’ll just get it on our next date. I think you said something about making me a dinner that was better than what we had already?” This had to be a dream. Or a nightmare. Daymare. Something. Thinking and logic were well out of reach by now, and Buck was scrambling to maintain his composure.

“Oh- Oh, yeah. Almost forgot about that. Friday night? If you’re not too busy studying.” This was like being stuck in a cage with a tiger, knowing full well that any sense of panic would make the damn thing attack him. But would she attack him? While he hoped she wouldn’t- NO. Not thinking about that.

“You two are adorable,” Sam finally chimed in. “I’ma let you two hash this out like the married couple you are. I got my own study date to get to.”

Both Natasha and Buck watched Sam walk away, his head shaking in disbelief.

“You owe me dinner, Barnes.” That subtle change in tone snapped Buck back to Natasha, his jaw somewhat slack.

“Listen- you don’t have to do this. Thanks for covering for me, but- …”

“No buts. You can pay me back with a dinner. Your place on Friday, I think you said?”

What the fuck was even happening?

“Uh … sure. Yeah. Totally. Haha.”

What. The- …

#buckynat #prompt #mine #cptsteven #captain-festeve #i need to get more into angst and less into cute #the angst is coming #bet

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shuttershocky · 7 years

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Character Opinion: Tamamo No Mae (Fate/Extra)

I just realized I haven’t written some good old Type-Moon meta in a while, but I think I’ve found a topic I really wanted to write about.

Hi I’m Shuttershocky, and I’m here to convince you that Fate/Extra’s Tamamo No Mae was the best thing to happen to the Nasuverse since Shiki Ryougi killed a building.

I’ll admit, Tamamo wasn’t exactly my first choice of servant when I started Extra. All I knew of her was that she was a fan-favorite, fanservicey character well liked for her cheerful personality and ample bosom. A ready-made waifu complete with a ditzy personality and an obsession with getting a husband (but whether that husband is male or not is no concern of hers) was not something that sounded very appealing, since I usually dislike Manic Pixie Dream Girl characters in my media, and certainly don’t like ones dressed as furries. But then she was also the hardest servant to use, thus, liking challenge, I thought I’d have to tolerate what would be an annoying servant.

And then I was proven wrong. Dead wrong. Tamamo was a lovesick ditz, a weak fighter, obsessed with becoming a wife and being seen as helpful and adorable true, but she was also a character with a good amount of depth whose nuances were done so subtly (a lot of it hidden through her own actions) that she often walked a fine line between flat fanservice and having an actual character, deftly balancing herself on the right side.

See the thing is, Tamamo wants to be seen as a mere waifu. She’s acts sickly sweet and adorable, constantly flirting with and complimenting Hakuno like so

She even constantly agrees with and validates anything Hakuno says or does, to the point where she’s less of a servant and more of yes-man, to the point where Hakuno occasionally gets annoyed with her. She sometimes oversteps her bounds and becomes overbearing, and her need to always agree and validate her master tends to oppose constructive criticism that helps Hakuno grow as a person and a master (which the game is, thankfully, aware of. Hakuno’s inner narration often shows Hakuno is aware of Tamamo being a kiss-ass.)

So how does Tamamo differ from all the bland waifus this trope is filled to the brim with? Well, she has a tendency to slip.

For someone who’s supposedly a lovable airhead, she sure doesn’t like the insinuation that she’s not the sharpest tool in the shed. It soon becomes clear that Tamamo is very touchy with criticism coming from Hakuno, quickly getting angry if her flightiness and poor fighting skills are pointed out. She would much rather receive compliments on how cute and helpful she is, occasionally even directly asking Hakuno to compliment her after battles. She also clams up as soon as the subject of conversation draws close to her real identity, claiming that its so other masters cannot read Hakuno’s mind, before later admitting its because she’s worried that Hakuno would no longer like her if they were aware of her true name.

As the player proceeds through the game, we get the picture of a character who, for some reason, has become obsessed with making her master’s image of her perfect, to the point where she can be caught contradicting herself. She wants to be seen as a cute ditz in one moment, but a crafty fox with a sophisticated vocabulary that will have you reaching for a thesaurus in the next. Her master is perfect and makes no mistakes, but don’t worry about that mistake that almost got us killed master, Caster always loves you. She’s a slender, small, weak girl who needs a big and strong master to support her, but don’t worry about the enemy master, because Tamamo is invincible, the strongest on earth!

At some points, she completely forgets she’s supposed to be putting on an act for Hakuno and instead makes it very clear that she is indeed only acting.

So why? Why is she so taken with the idea of being seen as the perfect wife?

Her answer is that she just wants someone to love and devote herself to. A weak otaku-bait answer that almost wrecks the amount of work put into her character...

...at first glance.

When the pair have their backs against the wall, Caster reveals her true name. She is Tamamo-No-Mae, the original fox spirit of Japan and once a beloved courtesan and adviser to the Emperor. Her true nature as a fox spirit revealed by a fortune-teller, she was chased by the Emperor’s army and slaughtered screaming on a grassy plain far from home.

Suddenly the player (through Hakuno) is invited to view her in a different light. Tamamo had no idea why she was chased away and killed mercilessly. Perhaps she blamed herself. Perhaps her overly eager efforts are her trying to make up for what she did wrong, for whatever she did wrong. Even if its obvious to everyone that she in fact, did no wrong.

Still, this would not explain her nearly inhuman form of ass-kissing. There is after all, a difference between sucking up hard and straight up risking your life to do so. It often comes off as awkward, yet another Nasu-ism fans have long since learned to mentally filter, and then we find out Tamamo-No-Mae is not a heroic spirit, but a god. Specifically, an aspect of Amaterasu who became curious at the sight of people worshiping her, proclaiming they loved her. Attempting to learn more about what this “love” is, she descended to earth as Tamamo-No-Mae, and died at the hands of those who claimed to love her.

With that last piece, the picture becomes all too tragic. It wasn’t ass-kissing, it was worship. It’s all she knows, and thus its what she thinks she must do in order to show and receive affection. Her mania over her master’s image of her? She was put to death the last time simply because her true self with her ears and tail did not match the emperor’s image of her. The little slips she makes in her act and her sensitivity to criticism? She is a god, who is far older, wiser, and more powerful than any mortal soul. And yet, she gave herself a weakened body in an attempt to understand the love that was beyond the reach of divine beings, for it was the invention of mortal, fragile lives.

Just imagine; she’s been trying to navigate all that on her own, without access to most of her incredible powers and wisdom, while simultaneously trying to keep her hopeless master alive in a brutal war. And because she’s so afraid of the reputation she carries with her true name, she shuts out the only person who can help her, the person she claims she love more than anything else in the world, Hakuno.

And the Pièce De Résistance? Throughout all this, behind all the deception and comedy she brings to every scene, the game still builds a real, true relationship between her and Hakuno. Sometimes her words of encouragement end up lacking the tinge of a suck-up, instead being imbued with an air of honesty. Despite the lies she puts out and the airs she puts on, her heart was always in the right place and she truly cares.

At the finale, when both Tamamo and Hakuno face the empty void, they face it hand in hand, having both reconciled Tamamo’s insecurities of her past existence and Hakuno’s lack of a current one, with Tamamo promising to stay right by Hakuno’s side until the very end.

It would be an understatement to say I found her characterization extremely impressive, especially since it involved walking such a tight line between real depth and waifu trash that a slight mistake (a common sight in Nasu’s works) could push her over the edge and ruin her character, but I think Tamamo was pulled off marvelously. Her motivations are clear, her behavior and methods all understandable and in-character, and, most of all, her characterization was brave.

What do I mean by that? Well Nasu is no stranger to writing strong female characters, but a lot of them are not traditionally feminine (is this the right word? Someone correct me if it isn’t) in their outward traits or behavior, such as the rude, crude Shiki Ryougi or the stone cold Saber. Tamamo on the other hand, is very outwardly feminine. She likes cooking and cute things and hot guys (and sometimes hot girls), she’s not a particularly capable fighter when every strong female character(tm) in fiction is apparently a black belt in 10 different combat arts, she really, really, really wants to be married off and be a housewife and thinks being a hero with demigod powers is a drag.

And she makes it work.

Tamamo also ticks off every box in the checklist for making a terribly flat manic pixie dream girl heroine. She’s unfocused but cute, revolves around the protagonist, is unbelievably kind and sweet but also reliant on the protagonist to get through the day. She’s also quite fond of sex, sometimes laying on the double entrende for Hakuno, sometimes telling them to straight up ravish her this instant (though they never agree to keep the ratings 15+, and, to my pleasant surprise, never show Tamamo in any compromising/sexy poses or anything. )

And she makes it work.

Tamamo defies the conventions of strong female characters (to be fair, anime in general does this way, WAY better than mainstream Hollywood), and that’s fucking great. Women can and should be allowed to be like that, to be whatever they feel like, and deserve to be seen as every bit as badass and valid as the sexless killbots and hypercompetent adventurers that dominate the discussion. And she does all this while being a side-splittingly funny character and a genuinely experienced, confident, quick-witted servant, whose tactical know-how and ability to get under her opponents’ skin proved a great help in winning the war.

So when I see that the majority of the fanbase know her for her sexy outfits, squeaky voice, and comedic scenes, I can’t help but feel a little annoyed at the thought that they might be missing out on who I think is one of Nasu’s best written characters.

The ironic thing of course being that Tamamo herself would prefer it that way.

#Tamamo No Mae #Fate/Extra #type moon #character opinion #Fate

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braith-eisen-isms · 7 years

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My thoughts on how I portray my OC Muses

Thanks @miss-pyrrha-nikos-isms for tagging me back. Sorry I took so long to post this, I’ve had a hectic week.

Braith: So Braith was my first muse in the RWBY-isms community, and certainly one of the muses I’ve had the most fun RPing as (in no small part thanks to @carr-hayes-isms mun).

Braith is a kind hearted soul who’s gone through some pretty traumatic experiences. I wouldn’t say she’s selfless, that’s Terra’s thing, but she made the decision to stay in Vale to help out for a reason.

I like portraying her as a kind and caring person who would willingly put herself in harms way for a stranger without a second thought. It’s actually quite interesting to have a character who’s suffered so much, but continues to give to those around herself.

She often uses humour and her enthusiastic attitude to help cope with the loss of her arms. It’s been a few years since the fateful day she lost them, but that’s not the kind of injury you can ever just ‘get over’, even with two working replacements. Braith copes with her injuries well of course, but that’s only because she surrounds herself with good, caring people, who support her, and allow her to support them in turn.

It’d be interesting to see her go down a darker path sometime perhaps... But that’s something for another day I think.

Also I can’t not talk about her ships.

Carr is without a doubt Braith’s canon ship, I’ve genuinely enjoyed their interactions so much. And I look forward to seeing them and their new family grow over time! I don’t think either of the muns could have guessed how well their story was going to play out at first. But it’s been one hell of a ride. (And I believe we named this ship Black Fire, but I’m terrible with ship names so I could be wrong).

Recently Braith and @and-his-name-is-rouge-crimson have been spending a fair bit of time together, and I’m looking forward to seeing where that goes!

And I’ve been meaning to try and set Braith up with Pyrrha at some point, but so far nothing’s come of that yet. But I think it’d be quite a nice relationship. If a little funny at first because of how enamored Braith is with Pyrrha.

Braith seems to have a thing for redheads doesn’t she?

Terra: (@terravolksisms, if you haven’t already go check her out!)

I think Terra might be my favorite OC that I’ve ever made (and I’ve made a few... 9 in RWBY).

She’s an incredibly selfless person, in many ways she’s almost like a cross between Pyrrha Nikos and Ruby Rose. She has Ruby’s naive, positive outlook in the world, and her desire to become a huntress stems from the same source, reading stories about ancient heroes going out to save the world. Mixed with Pyrrha’s desire to do everything she can to make the world a better place.

Also, a fun fact about Terra is that I wanted her to have a good upbringing, I’ve noticed a lot of OC’s tend to have backstories full of hardship and at times suffering. There’s nothing wrong with this of course, it helps make an interesting character, but I just wanted Terra to have a kind of, grass roots background.

Her family are very much working class, and they don’t own a lot, and she had to help raise her numerous siblings, but her parents always believed in Terra’s dream of becoming a Huntress. They helped teach her everything they knew that could come in handy, and Terra had already built her first prototype suit of armour before her first day at Signal Academy.

Terra’s fun to Roleplay because she’s every bit the paragon of virtue that the heroes in the stories she read are, or at least that’s the person she’s becoming.

And making her, as a part of Team VALR with @stark-ryker-isms, @ebony-lantana-isms and @amethyst-isms has probably been the highlight of my time in the RWBY RPing community!

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newyorkgalblog-blog · 6 years

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Here’s Why I Don’t Let My Disability Get Me Down

Ever since I (admittedly) watched the Netflix series, 13 Reasons Why, I started to evaluate my life a bit. Side note: it was indeed not the smartest idea to watch the show’s second season while on vacation. Don’t ask me why I watched it then, because I honestly don’t know.

But, anyways, the show made me think of 13 reasons to want to live. My life is significantly influenced by my physical disability, cerebral palsy (CP for short).

Complications from my birth caused my CP. My mom suffered from an amniotic fluid embolism, which caused to seize during labor and ultimately killed her. Doctors performed a C-section to get me out of her. I didn’t receive enough oxygen during my first few minutes of life, which caused damaged to my brain. CP affects each person differently, and for me, it affects my motor skills, mobility, and speech. To be specific, I have spastic quad CP, which means it affects all four of my limbs. But, I have relatively good control of my limbs—the main issue is that my muscles and tendons get tight and stiff.

Most people with CP also have cognitive problems, but that’s not the case with me. I use a motorized chair for traveling long distances, although I can walk without any assistance or devices. There’s honestly nothing I can’t do; it just takes me a little more time than the average person.

When strangers look at me, most of them pity me. They believe that being in a wheelchair, especially as a young person, is the worst thing ever as if it’s a life sentence. However, often I pity them. CP allows me to see life from a different perspective, and it has taught me to appreciate the small things in life. I feel like I have a greater appreciation and love for life because of the life lessons CP teaches me on a daily basis.

Here are 13 reasons why I never, ever let my CP get me down…

1. Just like my race and gender, my disability is a part of my identity.

I honestly couldn’t imagine life without cerebral palsy. It is a facet of my identity that has shaped me into the person I am today. I don’t think I’d have as much drive, empathy, and appreciation as I do now if I hadn’t grown up with a disability. Just like I’ve gone through life as a female, an Asian-American, a daughter of immigrants, and a sister, living with a disability has shaped my life in the same way my other identities have. I would fundamentally not be the same person I am today if I didn’t have CP.

2. Having a disability often helps me find out who my real friends are relatively quick.

I’ve been learning this lesson ever since I was in middle school. Generally speaking, people are afraid of intolerable of difference. That’s why the various -isms exist (i.e., sexism, racism, ableism). And, I’ve been “friends,” loosely labeling, with people who ended up not accepting my disability and the hassles it comes with. So, from various experiences, I’ve developed a knack for recognizing the friends who are in it for the long run. I cannot adequately express my tremendous gratitude for my real friends who accept me as I am.

3. I am quicker to smile on a sunny day.

I’m not that much of an optimistic person, but I’m not that pessimistic either. I’m very much aware that anything can go wrong at any time. Life has thrown me many curveballs, but nothing will bring me down. I tend to hold onto things that bring me joy, like a sunny day, as long as possible and cherish every moment I have with them. I’m always aware of the fact that nothing stays good forever, so I try to live in the moment.

Image Credit: Nadia Naomi

4. I owe it to my birth-mom to live my best life.

Ultimately, my mother sacrificed her life for me, in the most literal sense. Instead of negatively associating my cerebral palsy to her death, I see the obstacles that I face as her way of teaching me valuable life lessons that no one else could teach me and keeping me grounded on my two left feet. I owe it to her to live the fullest life that I possibly can.

5. My CP gives me the freedom to use my creativity to the fullest.

The world, in its physicality, wasn’t made for people with physical disabilities. Even since the Americans with Disabilities Act passed, the country has been making progress in modifying more places to be accessible, but those improvements have been coming slow. So, often I need to think of creative ways to get myself and my chair to places. Also, I need to brainstorm different methods to do specific tasks, like tying my shoes and unscrewing a corkscrew.

6. I don’t take life for granted.

You probably can sense this by now. I cannot afford to take anything for granted. I am very much aware of the fact that my life is unpredictable, as it had been even at the time of my birth. My CP has not been progressive but like for anyone, bodies age. And, it has been known that for people with physical disabilities, bodies age at an exponentially faster rate than those of non-disabled people. So that’s why I’ve learned to appreciate the things I can do now.

7. I focus on my many abilities, not the ONE disability I have.

There’s nothing I absolutely cannot do. And I never understood the point of just focusing on my one disability. In fact, my CP is the aspect of my life that I think about the least. I do not let my CP define me or prevent me from doing anything I set my mind to undertake. I run 10-mile charity runs, bake and cook pretty good food, take care of my little sister, go grocery shopping, travel solo to new places, go on any and every rollercoaster, etc.

Image Credit: Dollar Photo Club

8. CP has made me fearless.

Some folks might equate my fearlessness to being an adrenaline junkie, but I genuinely love living on the edge. To be quite honest, living in NYC in a wheelchair isn’t the safest thing. I didn’t know that I could pop a wheelie with my wheelchair until I’ve gone through the streets of this city, where there are many potholes and cobblestones. But, over the years, I’ve learned a safer way to pop a wheelie. Since I’ve already bungee-jumped, next on my list is to go skydiving (okay, maybe I am an adrenaline junkie)!

If I were a fearful person, then I’d probably never go outside, especially since there are so many things that could go wrong. For example, I could be stranded on a subway platform because the elevator is out of service. However, by now I believe in my ability to get out of any situation that may come my way.

9. I make a lot of light-hearted jokes about the circumstances that CP puts me in.

I can walk independently without any assistance or walker. Since some people have no idea that I could walk, they are shocked when they see me out of my chair. It used to bug me that people treated it as if a miracle had happened when they saw me out of my chair for the first time. But, now I treat it as an inside joke; I go away with it. I also have a speech impediment, and some of my friends repeat the thing that they think I said, but they know it’s not what I said. For example, I’d say, “I love Reeses Pieces,” but a friend might hear it as “I love Ray’s penis.” And, then we laugh about how off she was. But, you need to be pretty close to me to do that without it seeming like you’re offending me.

10. My independence is the gift from life that I appreciate the most.

Over the years, independence became a big part of my identity and personhood. It reinforced the belief that I can do anything and everything I want — some things need little adjustments. As a teenager, I didn’t know that living in an NYC apartment alone with a legit career, let alone do everything for myself, was a possibility for me. At times, I need to do a reality check to make sure this is happening, and it’s not just a dream!

Image Credit: Nadia Naomi

11. My intellect often compensates for my lack of physical ability.

Not everyone has an Ivy League degree, let alone two Ivy League degrees. Ever since I was young, I genuinely liked school. Since I couldn’t play sports or move as freely as my peers could, I made school my game, and it was a game I was good at. My intellect and mind saw no limits, and I used the fact that studying and learning were easy for me, to my advantage. I became the first person in my family to earn a master’s degree.

12. I make people see my other characteristics before they see my wheelchair/disability.

The more you get to know me, the more it seems like my disability/wheelchair disappears. You get to see me as a human being, and not a “sick creature.” But, for starters, I put effort into my appearance and personality when I’m out and about. I’ve always had a thing for fashion, so I use that when I’m putting together my outfits. My style is an extension of my personality — bold, confident, and friendly. I want to demystify the notion that people with disabilities are sad/mad, pitiful, and a charity.

13. I have the knowledge and resources to make the world a better place for the next person who is in my shoes (or should I say ‘wheels’?).

I am aware that I am at a position of privilege, even as a woman of color with a disability. For starters, I am a natural-born citizen of America, a country that offers opportunities for people with disabilities. If I were born in my family’s motherland, South Korea, I probably would not have gotten this far in life. Also, two Ivy League degrees open doors to opportunities and networks that are not available to everyone. So, I want to use all the resources and skills I have to make the world more disability-friendly, both in terms of societal and physicality.

Original source: https://nygal.com/heres-why-i-dont-let-my-disability-get-me-down/

#Mental health #Disability

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raisingsupergirl · 4 years

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Are You Me, Or Am I'm I'm?

I pulled up behind an old suburban at the stoplight the other morning. It had two bumper stickers. One was an NRA "Stand and Fight" sticker. The other said, "I'm coming soon. -Jesus" At first, I rolled my eyes, imagining a paranoid, Vietnam Vet, doomsday prepper behind the wheel (a la John Goodman's character from "The Big Lebowski"). But then, for some reason, I smiled. My perception of that dude hadn't changed, but suddenly I was happy that he existed. Maybe he was relatively harmless. Maybe he was angry and toxic. Or maybe he was a she. Maybe she was charitable, patient, and kind. Maybe she just bought her suburban second hand--bumper stickers included--to drive around all of her foster kids. Whatever the case, he or she existed. He or she was unique, filling the world with a little more diversity (for better or worse). And in that moment, I was okay with a little more flavor on my morning commute.

I'm sure you see where I'm going with this ("Live and let live," and all that), but I'm writing not to preach, but to give some specific, personal situations that I want to work out in my own mind and create a record of at least a little clarity in such a tumultuous time. A little clarity that, whether Jesus comes soon or later, he's already given us peace and assurance beyond anything this world has thrown at us.

"The viruses have won." That's the first line of my most recent book proposal. I wrote the novel a year and a half ago, and my agent submitted it to publishers about eight months ago. Both long before any whispers of a super virus had reached my ears. I thought I was being terribly creative. But, as they say, truth is stranger than fiction. And so, when corona did rear its ugly head, the publishers fell silent. Some of them turned my book down early on, but most just didn't respond. Why? Because they didn't (and still don't) know what the heck to do with it. Even if they love it, how can they know what the future holds? How can they risk publishing a book about quarantine from a deadly disease when we still don't know how all of this is going to pan out? It's quite a conundrum for all involved.

As you can imagine, I've had plenty of feels about the uncertain fate of my hard-written story. But now, I've found peace. I've realized that I can't change the situation, and maybe God still has a bigger plan for it and me. And even if he doesn't, I grew as a person writing it. That's the way it goes sometimes. We pour everything we have into something, and it still doesn't pan out, not because it wasn't a worthy cause or a valiant effort, but because the stars didn't align. And let me tell you, that outcome is much easier to swallow than getting your dreams squashed by a single, overly-biased human.

Remember how I said some of the publishers turned my book down early on? Well, the first of them was from one of the biggest science fiction houses in the world. Her reason? She didn't like the way my main character represented persons with disabilities. She, herself, didn't have any disabilities, but because I didn't either, she shot me down. Never mind the fact that I'm a physical therapist who works with patients with disabilities literally every day, or that I had my story read and "approved" by sensitivity readers in every pertinent category. In her eyes, I had no business even attempting to tell the story that was already written on my heart. And, as you can imagine, her decision burned my britches.

Racism. Ablism. Sexism. Every other kind of -ism. If you've experienced it for real, you're probably saying to yourself, "Awww, poor straight, white, Christian male got his feelings hurt over something that he couldn't control?" And you're right. I'm not arguing. I'm agreeing with you. I'm saying that I was hit with a tiny sliver of what many deal with every single day of their lives. And it sucked. Why? Not because that editor had a belief. But because she let that belief rule her, and in turn, let it crush my dreams over something I had no control over. And that's my real point. The world is a big place. The USA is a big place. We will never all have the same beliefs. So to try to create one amorphous race is to wish unhappiness and failure on yourself forever. It's actions that are important. Actions that limit the freedom of other human beings. Our country's founding doctrines protect our freedom of thoughts and beliefs, but when our actions unlawfully oppress someone else, that's when we're on our own.

It's just weird to me that this is such a hard concept for so many people to grasp. I mean, my five-year-old daughter reminds my wife and me of it at least weekly. The first time she said it (and I've blogged about this even before, so bear with me if you've heard this one), it was in response to me saying she wasn't still hungry after a big dinner. "Are you me, or am I'm I'm?" was her response. And it floored me. She was right. It was fine for me to think she shouldn't still be hungry, but it was something else entirely for me to deny her more food (that we had available) just because I thought she shouldn't be hungry. And that's the way it is with most things. We're free to think whatever we want. There are a whole lot of people out there who will think differently than you. Maybe some of them will even be objectively wrong. But that's their right. Just as it is your right to be angry or frustrated or annoyed that they think that way, but it won't do you an ounce of good. You can, however, demand that they change their actions if those actions infringe on your freedom to act (in accordance to our laws and governing bodies, of course).

So the next time you pull up behind someone who has a bumper sticker that makes you roll your eyes, I suggest you take a second to appreciate the situation. That person is in his car. You're in yours. Neither one of you have limited the other's freedom. And both of you are expressing your views in all of their diverse glory. As you drive down that long and open highway of life. Smile, nod, and say, "Bless his heart" if you feel the need, but, depending on the part of the country you're in, that statement may get your rights infringed upon pretty hard if you say it too loudly.

Otherwise, I suggest getting in the passing lane and leaving your fears behind. Of course, that’s totally your choice. You’re you, and I’m I’m. Let’s keep it that way.

#opinions #live and let live #diversity #momblr #dadblr #mumblr #amwriting #onerace

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worldtopnewsoftheday · 6 years

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Bernie Sanders, the antique Brooklyn socialist who represents Vermont in the Senate, is not quite ready to retire to his lakeside dacha and so once again is running for the presidential nomination of a party to which he does not belong with an agenda about which he cannot be quite entirely honest.Progressivism in 2019 is a funny critter, indeed.Comrade Muppet puts on a good show, but if you want to know where his heart is, go to berniesanders.com, where you’ll find a Bernie Sanders swag store and a donations link and precious little about what the candidate thinks and believes. Sanders has been around long enough to appreciate that Democratic presidential campaigns are made of rage and money, with ideas way back there somewhere near the caboose. Fresh ideas don’t pay the mortgage on second and third homes, either, which must be of some interest to a man with Senator Sanders’s real-estate portfolio, relatively modest senator’s salary, and light professional résumé.To the very limited extent that Senator Sanders is a man of ideas, he is — not that he’d ever admit it — a man of Donald Trump’s ideas. Who does this sound like? “I don’t know why we need millions of people to be coming into this country as guest workers who will work for lower wages than American workers and drive wages down even lower than they are now.” President Trump? Yes, indeed, but it is Senator Sanders. Representative Steve King of Iowa, immigration restrictionists such as Roy Beck of NumbersUSA, and President Trump himself all have found occasion to praise Senator Sanders for his beady-eyed, zero-sum view of immigration.Senator Sanders has, in fact, been all too happy to appropriate the rhetorical scheme of the alt-right knuckleheads (remember those guys?), denouncing those who take a more liberal view of immigration as advocates of “open borders” — a position held by approximately zero figures in American public life — and agents of a sinister conspiracy advanced by the Koch brothers and affiliated business interests. Which is to say: Senator Sanders’s criticism of the Koch brothers comes from the same direction as President Trump’s.Like his populist fellow-travelers — including President Trump — Senator Sanders applies much of the same zero-sum thinking to trade. Quiz question: Who described the Trans-Pacific Partnership as a “disaster” — Donald Trump or Bernie Sanders?Both, actually.Right-wing populists and left-wing populists may disagree about such world-changing issues as whether the phrase “a man with ovaries” actually means anything, but on the fundamental policy questions they come down strikingly close to one another. That is because the enemy of populism isn’t the right wing or the left wing — the enemy of populism is liberalism, understood here not in the demented sense we use it in U.S. politics (where liberals are the people opposed to liberalism) but in its proper sense, meaning the classical-liberal regime of property rights, free enterprise, free trade, individual rights, and a worldview based on well-ordered liberty emphasizing cooperation within and between nations.Senator Sanders, like President Trump, is an anti-liberal — and, fundamentally, a nationalist. Sanders may be deep-dipped and tie-dyed in 1970s countercultural horsepucky, but he is a practitioner of a very old and established kind of politics that would have been familiar to such frankly nationalist politicians as Franklin Roosevelt (and Teddy Roosevelt, for that matter), Woodrow Wilson, and Benito Mussolini. He has been shamed out of the blunt, Trumpish way he talked about immigration during those 2016 union-hall speeches, but his worldview remains essentially the same. Most politicians do not evolve very much at his advanced age.The feature of nationalism that Trump and Sanders — and, to a considerable degree, figures such as Senator Elizabeth Warren and Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez — are rehabilitating is, in part, corporatism, a word that all of them certainly would abjure and that none of them quite understands. Contemporary progressives use the word corporatism to describe a situation in which the notionally democratic character of government is subverted by private business interests, but in reality it means something closer to the opposite: the subordination of private business interests to the “national interest,” something formally short of the Marxist-Leninist model of outright appropriation of the means of production but functionally similar to it.Mussolini was, for all his absurd macho-man peacocking and bluster, a practitioner of what American progressives sometimes call “stakeholder” economics and politics. The corporazioni of fascist Italy were intended to coordinate the efforts of business owners, labor, government, and other interest groups in the service of a unified national agenda. Senator Warren, in particular, frequently speaks of the social role of American businesses in explicitly corporatist terms, but the far-left American intellectuals who dream of “workers’ councils” and grand industrial projects directed by the central government are practitioners of classical corporatism, whether they understand the fact or do not. The so-called Green New Deal is a textbook corporatist boondoggle.Senator Sanders may call himself a socialist, but then, so did Mussolini, for a long time.If you view the economy as a kind of national household (which is what the Greek root of “economy” literally means), then Sanders-ism — including his restrictionist immigration views, however muffled they now are — makes perfect sense: Why take on responsibility for a bunch of shiftless strangers you don’t really need? Why even contemplate it when you have enough mouths to feed as it is? Especially when you believe (wrongly, but sincerely) that what ails Americans is that there aren’t enough good jobs to go around?If you take a more intelligent view — well, then you probably aren’t taking the Sanders campaign very seriously. The good news is that he probably isn’t, either.

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myinformationforyouworld · 6 years

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from Yahoo News - Latest News & Headlines https://ift.tt/2GBTpJQ

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orendrasingh · 6 years

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from Yahoo News - Latest News & Headlines https://ift.tt/2GBTpJQ

#OS #Blogger

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teeky185 · 6 years

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from Yahoo News - Latest News & Headlines https://ift.tt/2GBTpJQ

#latest news #Yahoo News - Latest News & Headlines

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goodforyourego-blog · 7 years

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I Was Cooler on Facebook than IRL, and I’m Cool With That

About a year ago, I began the surprisingly long process of detoxing from a 10-year dependency on Facebook and social media. At many times, this process of detachment has left me feeling socially impotent and heavily isolated from a world desperately in need of spreading inter-connectedness. Despite this, I remain convinced that quitting Facebook has been the best decision for my overall health and well-being in the world.

It is imperative that I elaborate upon my meaning when I refer to “the world.” I use this term to imply a summation of three distinctly different dimensions of modern living: The Inner World, The External World, and The Social World.

The Inner World could also be known as spirituality, mental health, emotional intelligence, or simply, thought. It is the teleprompter off which we all read constantly; the ever-evolving and living script which provides us with our lines of narrative and dialogue. Our own thoughts are a world unto themselves, rife with context and subtext only digestible to the human brain. And, even it makes frequent mistakes in understanding life’s plot.

Beyond this primal, intuitive plane, there is the world of the external. The External World begins with the body and ends with the infinitely expanding blackness and light of the universe. Whereas thoughts represent a boundless, internally spiraling realm with no form, The External World is one of mass, matter, and a quantitative quality which boggles the mind in its scope and limitation.

And, finally, all living creatures must exist in some form of The Social World. Animals travel in herds and packs, as do human beings, and no creature has surpassed mankind in our ability to dominate our dominion with social prowess. Our reproductive and industrial abilities have allowed us to reshape the face of the earth, if not her very foundational ecosystem and structure. The Social World is the most rapidly shifting environment humans must cope with, and it is made this way by our own doing.

Each of these worlds must contend and collaborate with the others for there to be harmony within the individual. Thoughts must be allowed to roam without endangering the physical home of the human thinking them. Likewise, a healthy body informs healthy thought.

This is where the ambiguous nature of The Social World becomes a problem, particularly in an era during which most people experience The Social World through the channels of social media.

Using social media, we have adapted one of our habitats to such a drastic extent that this plane of existence is no longer in sync with the holy trinity of the human universes. We can thrive on social media without thriving in the inner or external worlds, and this creates unquantifiable discord in every aspect of our lives.

This discord is the very bread and butter which feeds Facebook and other corporate entities masquerading as tools for "connecting people." Facebook advertisements utilize subliminal messaging to undermine small business and turn every user into a point-of-sale statistic. News is butchered, clumsily re-built, and then delivered to the masses through newsfeeds with devastating consequence. Faith, politics, and isms of all types are debated and degraded in comment boxes at a blistering pace on our screens and at our fingertips.

None of these statements I’ve just made are conspiracy; they are simple facts about social media which we have all come to accept and even embrace with a satirical grin and a nihilistic meme. Each of us is guilty of over-indulging in the negative aspects of Facebook, Twitter, and dating apps like Tinder in some way or another, at some point in our scrolling history.

I was a prolific Facebook narcissist.

I got on Facebook in 2006, back when you needed an email address distributed by a college or university in order to sign up. We were all coming off of the Myspace days, and as a musician on the former platform giant, I became comfortable with the self-promoting environment of the new digital age during early adolescence.

Our generation moved from dully designed forums and chat rooms to glittering, sparkling pages with pictures, music, and video. We readily embraced a fun new internet society, and when it grew up, we allowed it to do so for us.

Facebook represented a more mature tool for gossip, sharing snapshots of our lives, and hooking up with our barely-known peers. It started as a casual accessory and became a needed commodity so subtly that we hardly noticed it happening.

When Facebook became available to me during my early college years, I sought to master the platform. Zuckerberg himself couldn’t have designed a better candidate to get lost in Facebook’s jungle of opportunity for egoism. I was a former troubled youth, a self-styled artist/entrepreneur, and a witty, wordy writer with a desire to come across as worldly - a desire fueled by my massive, male insecurity.

Over the years, I played many roles on Facebook, all of which were small exaggerations of actual events and identities I took on in my life. Meanwhile, there were intense, inescapable memories being formed in the inner and external worlds which weren't being expressed or explored in The Social World to any degree.

I posted about the concerts I performed at, the beautiful moments in my life, and even many of the tribulations which I deemed to have some honorable or enviable aspect to them. I didn't post about the embarrassing sexual encounters, the dark decisions made under the influence, or the borderline unforgivable things I did to and with other people.

On Facebook, at worst, I was another narcissistic young white man with too much to say and too much time on his hands. At best, I was a small-town rock star living his dreams, traveling the world, and befriending beautiful people everywhere I went. The problem is that I have often been far worse and/or far better than either of those things in the real world.

During most of the last year that I was on Facebook, I worked as a content specialist for a social marketing company. Essentially, I was a copy writer working on social media and web content for individual service providers and small businesses.

This was 2016, mind you. Not exactly our golden age for communication.

At some point, it became clear to me there was a serious problem with how I/we conducted myself/ourselves in our current Social World. I think one of the first big indicators that Facebook had a dangerous role in our lives was actually its emerging role in dating apps.

Think about it: Dating apps are a fundamental aspect of our contemporary mating and hedonism practices. We've replaced conversation and time spent getting to know an individual on a real basis with a right or left swipe based on a photo and a few words. Even more interesting - all of those dating apps highly recommend or require that you have a profile on a social media network like Facebook or Twitter in order to register for the service.

Imagine that you are a stranger in a strange town, looking for some strange in a strange region without cell phones. It sounds strange, I know.

You decide to venture down to the local watering hole to see if you can meet a compatible person and to quench your thirst.

Upon arriving at the bar or restaurant, an insurmountable man at the door informs you that, because you prefer another brand of swill to the stuff served inside, you are not welcomed in the establishment. Because you do not adhere to the same corporate allegiances as everyone else in town, you are not allowed to check out the club, so to speak. Here, in this town, The Social World is cut off from those who do not drink the proverbial "Kool-Aid."

This is the situation we have created with Facebook and other modern services, even ones offered by seemingly all-encompassing entities like Google and Amazon. This exclusivity is not exclusive to dating apps, but can be found in all miracles of modern convenience.

Nearly every small business owner in America is under the misguided perception that the greatest thing they can do for their business is to master social media.

What social media experts and marketing professionals won't usually tell you is that in the equation of social media, the platform is always the master and the user is always the slave.

Facebook's algorithms function without the juxtaposing advocacy of human thought, and they exist for the sole purpose of encouraging people to make purchases. The resulting forum is an environment in which collaborative thought can not thrive, and competitive thought is championed constantly.

Socially, we are each struggling to balance an internal monologue and an external dialogue which can never share equal space, for they each take up infinite space on their own.

If you have made it this far, I urge you to re-consider the so-called convenience of Facebook, if nothing else.

When I was preparing to delete Facebook from my life for good, at the end of 2016, most people said they wished that they could do the same. Other artists and entrepreneurs said they couldn't operate their businesses/networks without Facebook. Friends and family told me it was how they stayed in touch with one another. But, the more I thought about these claims, the more I found them to be categorically false in their assumption that Facebook provided anything revolutionary in terms of convenience.

Did life not include enough charming moments and heartwarming videos in all the years before Facebook's existence? Were we not able to express ourselves to one another, either in writing or through some other medium?

I began to realize that all of the convenience of Facebook exists whether the platform does or not. We can send all forms of media to one another instantaneously. We can chat in real time across vast distances. We have been able to communicate and stay in touch with one another since well before the first telephone lines were strewn across the continent, so why does Facebook suddenly seem so crucial to our correspondences?

The truth is that, with social media, the onus of responsibility is removed from the individual themselves. It is not that our individuality has been lost through some Machiavellian scheme to destroy human awareness, but simply that, with all of the burdens the world offers, we each often delight in being able to give the one burden up. We eagerly defer the need to direct our own social world by submitting to the preferences and practices of cold, capitalist algorithms.

Make no mistake, in some sense, I have lost touch with thousands of people over the last year. I enjoyed writing a post that earned dozens, or hundreds, of "likes.” It fed my need for admiration, and made me feel as though I was connected to those people. But, I was connected to those people through Facebook in the same way that doing cocaine makes you supernaturally powerful.

It doesn't. But, it sure as hell makes you think that it does.

I may not experience the instant gratification of Facebook dope anymore, but I've got to tell you that sober living really is much more rewarding. It's taken the entire year to do so, but I've truly begun to form my own rich, offline community. Once I removed the newsfeed from my life and replaced it with my own self-driven use of phone numbers, email, and mailing addresses, I began to remember what relationships are supposed to feel like.

To those of my generation and prior: Do you recall having long conversations on the phone, your movement perhaps limited by a stretchy, curly cord? Remember the sense of excitement you would experience when someone you cared about would call or pick up the phone when you dialed? This feeling still exists, and these types of interactions can still be yours.

I find it ironic that, as I typed these words, Macy Gray's "Beauty in the World" came on the radio. There is beauty in the world(s), girl.

Facebook takes all of the world's beauty, misery, complexity, and compassion and condenses it down into an easy-to-swallow pill. This facsimile of life and The Social World makes for a powerful and stimulating simulation of the living experience, but it also renders the user blind to the edges and fine lines around them.

About a year after Facebook, I'm kind of a bigger loser than I've ever been. I definitely deal with a sense of isolation on a daily basis, and I often feel that nobody likes me or wants to spend time with me. I make frequent attempts to be social, but those efforts go unrequited - it often seems as though no one has time for my antiquated methods of correspondence.

I remember this feeling well, this sense of overburden. Everybody seems to think that they are busier than they are, and I believe this has a lot to do with our social world weighing too heavily on our internal and external worlds. Our lists of friends and those we influence climb into the thousands, and we never think twice about the burden this places upon our brains.

Now, with all of that being said about being a big ol' loser these days, I might as well point out some other things. Despite those frequent feelings of inadequacy, I have also established myself in three new reputable careers this year. I am in a dynamic and deeply rewarding relationship with a partner I love beyond description. I have an email list of about 30 people I can send a heartfelt message to, and I can expect a trove of supportive and encouraging responses. I may not be able to address the masses as I once could, but the masses can no longer address me either, and that is a balance I'm perfectly fine with.

All of the insecurities I am experiencing now were also there when I was a daily Facebook user. The difference is that the platform gave me constant adrenaline rushes and an unending source of distractions, and as a result I never looked at myself straight-on. Facebook was a house of mirrors in which my inner child, angry old man, and present self were constantly having a staring contest.

I could spend all day, every day, urging others to see the insanity in all of this. But, I would soon find myself in an Orwellian nightmare with my role being the presumed-to-be lunatic ranting against a world gone numb. Since I'm more of a Huxley man, I suppose you could say that I have stopped taking my soma since I stopped posting my status.

I recently described the social media platform as a place where everybody is trying to prove that they are the least lost. On Facebook, your insecurities can be worn like badges of pride, and the accolades you will receive for wearing those insecurities proudly can almost make them seem to disappear.

Almost.

Look, I'm not saying that real life doesn't require a bit of posturing here and there - it does. We have to puff up our chests and make a brave face now and then, which is an acceptable part of the human experience. The problem is that, on Facebook and other social media sites, all we seem to do is compete with one another in an attempt to escape being deemed the biggest loser of the day.

Admittedly, in my personal life, I would say that this mission also compels me even in my largely offline persona. I was bullied, neglected, and abused by a cruel world like so many others, so why wouldn't I feel the need to prove something? Leaving Facebook did not rid me of my shame or guilt, it simply silenced the echo chamber in my skull.

The difference is that, with some distance from Facebook, I no longer feel the need to prove that my experiences have in some way made my perspective more valid than anyone else's. I'd rather be okay with the loser I am, than be competing with the rest of the world to prove I’m not.

I was much cooler on Facebook than I am in real life, but deleting my account helped me realize I'm cool with that.

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nathanjhill · 7 years

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Why I Do Anti-Racism Work

Over the past few years, I’ve been humbled to be a part of my denomination’s Pro-Reconciliation/Anti-Racism Core Trainer team with Reconciliation Ministry. If you notice pictures on my Instagram or Facebook feeds from various cities, it might be because I’ve been invited out with another trainer to lead a group of clergy or church leaders in an intentional time of conversation, analysis, reflection, and worship, committing ourselves to addressing and dismantling one of the great evils at work in our church and society. And while you may think I am writing this to show how “with it” I am or whatever, that’s not true - this ministry is HARD. Without a doubt, it’s one of the most challenging calls I’ve ever received.

I go into every training with anxiety about the conversations, hard questions, word choices, and potential conflict waiting for us as we dig into painful, agonizing, brutal history and present day realities. I never feel worthy for this call. Have I read enough of the right books? Have I truly listened to the witness of people of color and believed them? Will this work make a difference? I often describe it as something like how Moses felt standing before the burning bush and the voice of God - my feet are always trembling on this sacred ground.

Post-training, I am inevitably tough on myself - for not choosing the right words, for not thinking of the right thing to say, for not doing enough, for not being as brilliant and smart and well-read as I ought to be. Anti-racism work is humbling work, especially for white clergy and leaders, because we have to do serious self-critical reflection. We have to be honest about our own stories and the way racism like an infection twists us and misshapes us. We have to be able to truly confront the white supremacy within.

I don’t do this work for me though. It’s not about self-help or elevating myself or resume building or whatever. It’s not about cleansing my personal soul (not that I can’t use some help with that).

It’s about the gospel - it’s about the good news of a God, who scripture says, came in flesh, as a first century Jew from Galilee - and lived out a disruptive and liberative love that can overcome all death and evil, especially systemic evil, and offer freedom from all the -isms and hatred that infatuates and intoxicates and captivates our world and our lives.

It’s about a Creator who reminds us that we are all created in the image of God - every single stinking one of us.

It’s about the Holy Spirit who comes to rattle us and shape us into a new people, “God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into God’s marvellous light”. (1 Peter 2:9)

I do this work for the dream of a church where there is no more segregation on Sunday morning (one of the heresies among many congregations in North America) where people of many nations and skin colors and sexualities and perspectives can be embraced with an abounding grace - where “divinity in diversity” is made flesh.

I do this work for my family, for my children, that they may live in a society where racial slurs and animosity are discarded and systems and structures are dismantled and remade that work for and treat all people with dignity and respect.

I do this work for my neighbors, for their families, for strangers, for refugees, for even those who claim racism as their banner - that we might all know that marvelous light from God.

I do this work because God calls me to this ministry - and because it’s the right thing to do.

Calling out racism is actually one of the easiest things to do - racism kills. That’s why it is disappointing when some of our national leaders like President Trump have hesitated or backtracked or tried to deflect blame. It’s also disappointing when fellow clergy have struggled to find words to speak or engage in this work. Certainly, there is always a price to pay for taking a stand - I’ve certainly paid that price from angry church members or friends - and I have certainly been afraid to speak up and failed plenty of times in my life when called upon to put my body on the line.

Jesus reminds us that God’s grace is abundant - there is always a second chance.

In her book, Roadmap to Reconciliation, Brenda Salter McNeil describes catalyst events in the life of a church or an individual that motivate them to reevaluate their values, understanding, actions, or way of doing things. What happened in Charlottesville last weekend may have been that for some of you. For others, that journey began years ago. You may be asking new questions or wondering how to make a difference. I’ve been careful in this post to highlight how racism certainly has a personal component - but it’s really about institutions and structures in our society - like segregated churches, systemic bias in hiring processes, voter disenfranchisement, and poverty (and on and on). Reading and analysis is part of the journey - but it must lead us to justice and real change in our churches, our political process, and communities before we can really embody reconciliation.

As Rev. Eugene Cho says, “Everyone loves the idea of reconciliation...until it involves truthtelling, confessing, repenting, dismantling, forgiving, and peacemaking.”

I pray for everybody doing this HARD work in a time such as this. I pray for those who find this moment a catalyst for their lives to get engaged and take a stand against white supremacy. I pray for our nation and leaders and churches - for the moral imagination to overcome. I pray for my neighbors who are grieving and afraid, for victims of racism and violence - and especially for those who are weary of waiting for change. And I pray for God to keep reshaping me, to keep me anxious, to keep my feet trembling, to keep reminding me that I have not and may never fully arrive but that I must keep doing the work.

#disciples #reconciliation #racism #white supremacy #disciples of christ #charlottesville #ministry #jesus #god #overcome #freedom

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allbestnet · 8 years

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100 books to read

Simple: Conquering the Crisis of Complexity - By Alan Siegel and Irene Etzkorn

The Anatomy of Buzz: How to Create Word of Mouth Marketing - By Emanuel Rosen

Everybody Writes: Your Go-To Guide to Creating Ridiculously Good Content - By Ann Handley

The Passion Conversation: Understanding, Sparking, and Sustaining Word of Mouth Marketing - By Robbin Phillips, Greg Cordell, Geno Church, and John Moore

The Celestine Prophecy: An Adventure - By James Redfield

Bold: How to Go Big, Create Wealth and Impact the World - By Peter H. Diamandis and Steven Kotler

Spark: The Revolutionary New Science of Exercise and the Brain - By John J. Ratey

A Journey of a Thousand Smiles: A Dentist's Guide to Oral Health - By Dr. Eugene Antenucci

Benjamin Franklin: An American Life - By Walter Isaacson

The 100-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared - By Jonas Jonasson

Everybody Writes: Your Go-To Guide to Creating Ridiculously Good Content - By Ann Handley

Disrupt You!: Master Personal Transformation, Seize Opportunity, and Thrive in the Era of Endless Innovation - By Jay Samit

Inner Work: Using Dreams and Active Imagination for Personal Growth - By Robert A. Johnson

Contagious: Why Things Catch On - By Jonah Berger

Steal Like an Artist: 10 Things Nobody Told You About Being Creative - By Austin Kleon

The Definitive Book of Body Language - By Barbara Pease and Allan Pease

Winning Body Language: Control the Conversation, Command Attention, and Convey the Right Message without Saying a Word - By Mark Bowden

What to Say When you Talk To Yourself - By Shad Helmstetter

Brave New World - By Aldous Huxley

Before You Think Another Thought: An Illustrated Guide to Understanding How Your Thoughts and Beliefs Create Your Life - By Bruce I. Doyle

How You Can Be More Interesting - By Edward de Bono

Social Intelligence: The New Science of Human Relationships - By Daniel Goleman

SuperBetter: A Revolutionary Approach to Getting Stronger, Happier, Braver and More Resilient - By Jane McGonigal

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry Into Values - By Robert M. Pirsig

The Bhagavad Gita - By Eknath Easwaran

The Disappearance of the Universe: Straight Talk about Illusions, Past Lives, Religion, Sex, Politics, and the Miracles of Forgiveness - By Gary R. Renard

Ask and It Is Given: Learning to Manifest Your Desires - By Esther Hicks and Jerry Hicks

The Stranger - By Albert Camus

Way of the Peaceful Warrior: A Book That Changes Lives - By Dan Millman

The Sedona Method: Your Key to Lasting Happiness, Success, Peace and Emotional Well-Being - By Hale Dwoskin

Walden - By Henry David Thoreau

Spiritual Warfare: Book Three of The Enlightenment Trilogy - By Jed McKenna

Spiritually Incorrect Enlightenment: Book Two of The Enlightenment Trilogy - By Jed McKenna

Spiritual Enlightenment, the Damnedest Thing: Book One of The Enlightenment Trilogy - By Jed McKenna

The Psychology of Self-Esteem: A Revolutionary Approach to Self-Understanding that Launched a New Era in Modern Psychology - By Nathaniel Branden

Radical Honesty: How to Transform Your Life by Telling the Truth - By Brad Blanton

No Excuses!: The Power of Self-Discipline - By Brian Tracy

Driven from Within - By Michael Jordan

The Six Pillars of Self-Esteem: The Definitive Work on Self-Esteem by the Leading Pioneer in the Field - By Nathaniel Branden

The UltraMind Solution: Fix Your Broken Brain by Healing Your Body First - By M.D. Mark Hyman

The Primal Blueprint: Reprogram your genes for effortless weight loss, vibrant health, and boundless energy - By Mark Sisson

Fantastic Voyage: Live Long Enough to Live Forever - By Ray Kurzweil and Terry Grossman

Losing My Virginity: How I Survived, Had Fun, and Made a Fortune Doing Business My Way - By Richard Branson

Titan: The Life of John D. Rockefeller, Sr. - By Ron Chernow

Andrew Carnegie - By David Nasaw

Steve Jobs - By Walter Isaacson

Financial Reckoning Day Fallout: Surviving Today's Global Depression - By Addison Wiggin and Will Bonner

The 21 Irrefutable Laws of Leadership: Follow Them and People Will Follow You - By John C. Maxwell

The Millionaire Next Door: The Surprising Secrets of America's Wealthy - By Thomas J. Stanley and William D. Danko

The Millionaire Fastlane: Crack the Code to Wealth and Live Rich for a Lifetime. - By MJ DeMarco

My Life in Advertising and Scientific Advertising - By Claude Hopkins

Zero to One: Notes on Startups, or How to Build the Future - By Peter Thiel and Blake Masters

The Hard Thing About Hard Things: Building a Business When There Are No Easy Answers - By Ben Horowitz

Never Eat Alone: And Other Secrets to Success, One Relationship at a Time - By Keith Ferrazzi and Tahl Raz

It Takes a Lot More than Attitude... To Lead a Stellar Organization - By Stever Robbins

Work the System: The Simple Mechanics of Making More and Working Less - By Sam Carpenter

The E-Myth Revisited: Why Most Small Businesses Don't Work and What to Do About It - By Michael E. Gerber

Think and Grow Rich - By Napoleon Hill

The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to Our Brains - By Nicholas Carr

How Pleasure Works: The New Science of Why We Like What We Like - By Paul Bloom

How the Mind Works - By Steven Pinker

Just Babies: The Origins of Good and Evil - By Paul Bloom

The Art Instinct: Beauty, Pleasure, and Human Evolution - By Denis Dutton

The Daily Stoic: 366 Meditations on Wisdom, Perseverance, and the Art of Living - By Ryan Holiday and Stephen Hanselman

How to Fail at Almost Everything and Still Win Big: Kind of the Story of My Life - By Scott Adams

Impossible to Ignore: Creating Memorable Content to Influence Decisions - By Carmen Simon

Nice Is Just a Place in France: How to Win at Basically Everything - By The Betches

Massive Life Success: Live a Stress-Free Life and Achieve Your Goals by Dealing with Anxiety, Stress and Fear - By Darius Foroux

A Theory of Human Motivation - By Abraham H. Maslow

Why We Do What We Do: Understanding Self-Motivation - By Edward L. Deci and Richard Flaste

Powerful Phrases for Dealing with Difficult People: Over 325 Ready-to-Use Words and Phrases for Working with Challenging Personalities - By Renee Evenson

The Road Back to You: An Enneagram Journey to Self-Discovery - By Ian Morgan Cron and Suzanne Stabile

Get Your Business to Work!: 7 Steps to Earning More, Working Less and Living the Life You Want - By George Hedley

Traction: Get a Grip on Your Business - By Gino Wickman

The Checklist Manifesto: How to Get Things Right - By Atul Gawande

Built to Sell: Creating a Business That Can Thrive Without You - By John Warrillow

Work the System: The Simple Mechanics of Making More and Working Less - By Sam Carpenter

Mentor Me: GA=T+E- A Formula to Fulfill Your Greatest Achievement - By Ken Poirot

Why Didn't They Teach Me This in School?: 99 Personal Money Management Principles to Live By - By Cary Siegel

Grow the F*ck Up: What your parents never taught you and school never did. - By John Kyle

Seuss-isms! A Guide to Life for Those Just Starting Out...and Those Already on Their Way - By Dr. Seuss

Fire Up Your Writing Brain: How to Use Proven Neuroscience to Become a More Creative, Productive, and Successful Writer - By Susan Reynolds

Writing With Quiet Hands: How to Shape Your Writing to Resonate with Readers - By Paula Munier

Spellbinding Sentences: A Writer's Guide to Achieving Excellence and Captivating Readers - By Barbara Baig

How to Read a Book: The Classic Guide to Intelligent Reading - By Mortimer J. Adler and Charles Van Doren

You Already Know How to Be Great: A Simple Way to Remove Interference and Unlock Your Greatest Potential - By Alan Fine and Rebecca R. Merrill

The One Minute Manager Meets the Monkey - By Ken Blanchard, William Oncken Jr. and Hal Burrows

The Wealth of Nations - By Adam Smith

Playing to Win: How Strategy Really Works - By A.G. Lafley and Roger L. Martin

99 Perseverance Success Stories: Encouragement for Success in Every Walk of Life - By Michal Stawicki and Jeannie Ingraham

1501 Ways to Reward Employees - By Bob Nelson Ph.D.

Everyday Etiquette: How to Navigate 101 Common and Uncommon Social Situations - By Patricia Rossi

As a Gentleman Would Say: Responses to Life's Important (and Sometimes Awkward) Situations (Gentlemanners) - By John Bridges and Bryan Curtis

How to Write It, Third Edition: A Complete Guide to Everything You'll Ever Write - By Sandra E. Lamb

Just Listen: Discover the Secret to Getting Through to Absolutely Anyone - By Mark Goulston M.D.

Talking to Crazy: How to Deal with the Irrational and Impossible People in Your Life - By Mark Goulston

Get Out of Your Own Way: Overcoming Self-Defeating Behavior - By Mark Goulston and Philip Goldberg

Cold Tangerines: Celebrating the Extraordinary Nature of Everyday Life - By Shauna Niequist

Savor: Living Abundantly Where You Are, As You Are - By Shauna Niequist

Trying Not to Try: Ancient China, Modern Science, and the Power of Spontaneity - By Edward Slingerland

#100 books to read

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