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mostlysignssomeportents · 5 years ago

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VICTORY! New Free File rules ban tax-prep firms from hiding their offerings, allow IRS to compete with them (a love-letter to Propublica)

Six months ago, Propublica began beating the drum about "Free File," a bizarre, corrupt arrangement between the IRS and the country's largest tax-prep firms that ended up costing the poorest people in America millions and millions of dollars, every single year.

The scam is one of those baroque, ultimately boring and complex stories that generally dies in the public imagination despite its urgency, because "boring and urgent" is the place where the worst people can do the worst things with the least consequences.

With that warning, here's a short summary: in most wealthy countries, the tax authority fills out your tax return for you, using the information your employer already has to file every time it pays your wages. If all the numbers look right to you, you just sign the bottom of the form and send it back, without paying a tax preparer. If, on the other hand, you want to claim extra deductions, or if something complicated is going on with your finances, you can throw away that free tax return and fill in a form from scratch, either on your own or with the help of a professional.

When Americans asked to have the same courtesy extended to them -- a move that would save the vast majority of Americans millions and millions of dollars they were currently paying to the likes of HR Block and Intuit/Turbotax, every single year of their entire working lives -- the tax-prep industry mobilized to kill the proposal. The industry (which is highly concentrated and dominated by a small handful of firms whose top execs have mostly done time in all their competitors' board rooms, making them into essentially one giant company whose different divisions have different shareholders) lobbied the IRS very hard, and won a resounding victory.

That victory is called "Free File." Under Free File, each tax prep company is required to serve a slice of working Americans with free, online tax-preparation. The arrangement was hailed as a victory for public-private partnerships, harnessing the efficiency of the private sector to perform this public duty of the state. Importantly, it meant that the IRS would not expand its headcount or budget, both of which had been slashed by successive right-wing presidents and their legislative enablers. The move was cheered by anti-tax extremists like Grover Nordquist, who was delighted by the "efficiency" of you saving a bunch of pieces of paper the government already had, typing them into an online form, and hoping that a company's website came up with the same calculations that the government had already made about your tax-bill.

Part of the Free File deal banned the IRS from creating a competing offer and it banned the IRS from advertising the existence of the program or telling people where to find the free offering.

As soon as the ink was dry on Free File, the tax-prep companies set about to sabotage it. Intuit -- a massive company led by a bizarre cult figure -- and its competitors hid their Free File offerings deep in their sites, and used the "robots.txt" system to instruct search engines to hide them. They took out search ads for the phrase "Free File" that directed users to paid offerings with the word "free" in their names. They created "Free File" systems that would make you go through hours of work entering your data before surprising you with a notice that you didn't qualify for Free File because you'd paid interest on a student loan (or some other normal thing) and then ask you if you wanted to pay to keep your work and finish your tax-return in the non-free system.

There's a simple name for this kind of activity: fraud.

But it was a fraud in plain sight, one that went on for years and years, and which created a stealth tax on the majority of Americans, which they had to remit not to the IRS, but to the tax-prep companies, which used the money to lobby to make it even harder to get away from handing them your money every year.

Enter Propublica, whose relentless reporting did the seemingly impossible: it made a complicated, boring important thing into something that millions of Americans cared about. Something they cared about so deeply that they actually managed to shame the IRS into taking action.

Remember, the IRS is an administrative agency, under the direct control of the Trump administration. That means its commander-in-chief is a guy who said dodging his taxes means that he's "smart." While the IRS has many good, hardworking staffers, it has also been demoralized and gutted by the right, who have convinced millions of poor people that it's somehow in their interests if it's easier for rich people to duck their taxes.

Despite all this, the IRS has enacted new Free File rules: first, these rules ban tax-prep companies from hiding their Free File offerings, and it bans them from using deceptive names for non-Free File offerings (Turbotax will no longer be allowed to confuse Americans by offering "Turbotax Free" -- which is not free -- as a competitor to "Turbotax Free File," which is).

Second, the rule allows the IRS to develop its own competing Free File product, which means that the government agency that already knows how much tax you owe will allow you to review its findings each year and then either challenge them, or simply click OK, without paying a single cent of tax to Intuit or HR Block, and free you from filling in lengthy, bureaucratic forms.

This outcome is nothing short of miraculous: it did not come as the result of Congressional action. It did not come as the result of the Trump administration's inattention (the release came out the same day that the Trump administration revised its tax rules to allow money launderers to retain billions in the loot they've stashed offshore).

It came about as the result of fucking journalism. Propublica wrote its way into a better world, with relentless, deep, accessible reporting that made this boring, important thing come to life.

I am sympathetic to the idea that talking about politics isn't doing politics, but that's not entirely true. Learning about what's going on and telling the people you know about it and getting them to tell others is part of how we make change. Propublica's excellent reporting wouldn't have mattered if people hadn't read it -- and talked about it.

And Propublica has done this repeatedly over the past year, deeply reporting on naked, grotesque corruption in ways so vivid and undeniable that they actually changed things, and not in some abstract, boring way, but in ways that matter to the immediate, lived experience of real people who had been brutalized and poisoned and jailed and mistreated with impunity, for years, until Propublica wrote about it.

Here are some examples, just from the stories I paid attention to this year (Propublica does so much good work that I can't manage to cover all of it):

* Reformed South Carolina's "magistrate judge" system that let "judges" with no legal background and less training than barbers sentence poor people (most of them Black) to prison in defiance of their constitutional rights;

* Dismantled Illinois's system of Quiet Rooms where special ed kids were put into solitary confinement, sometimes for days at a time;

* Shamed a "Christian" hospital into ending its practice of suing thousands of patients, many of them its own employees, for inability to pay their medical debts, and forcing it to jettison the private army of debt collectors it kept on its payroll.

* Killed an Illinois scam whereby affluent parents temporarily gave up custody of their own children so they could steal college grants earmarked for poor children;

* Got two Louisiana cops fired for encouraging people to murder Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez;

In addition, Propublica has done lots of reporting that hasn't yet created political transformations, but has changed our debate and laid the groundwork for change to come: called attention to the penniless hero of the ransomware epidemic; discredited a "walking polygraph" system used by police forces to frame their preferred suspects with sheer junk science; documented the link between pharma company bribes and doctors' prescribing; named every former lobbyist in the Trump administration; tracked every penny of the 2008 bailout money; documented Wayne LaPierre's self-dealing from the NRA's war-chests; documented the grifty conservative PACs that scammed millions out of scared old white people with racist Obama conspiracies and then kept the money for themselves; published a blockbuster story on the theft of southern Black families' ancestral lands through a legal grift called "heirs' property"; debunked the "aggression detection" mics being installed in America's classrooms; outed a "ransomware consultant" that was working with ransomware crooks to simply pay the ransom, while pretending that they were able to get you your files back without enriching the crooks who locked them up; named and shamed Alabama sheriffs who lost their re-election bids and then spent thousands of public dollars on frisbees or stole discretionary funds, or destroyed food earmarked for prisoners, or drilled holes in all the department computers' hard-drives in a form of "vindictive hazing"; followed the payday lender industry to a Trump hotel where it staged an annual conference, funneling millions to the president's personal accounts shortly before Trump reversed Obama's curbs on predatory lending; documented how TSA body-scanners single out Black women for humiliating, discriminatory hair-searches; revealed the secret history of wealthy people destroying the IRS's Global High Wealth Unit; and did outstanding work on the Sackler family, a group of billionaire opioid barons whose products kickstarted the opioid epidemic that has now claimed more American lives than the Vietnam war.

2019 was a dumpster-fire of a year and 2020 could be worse -- or it could be the dawn that breaks after our darkest hour. Finding Propublica's victory lap on Free File on New Year's Day was just the sunrise I needed to give me hope for the year to come. Sometimes, simply finding the truth and telling it to the people can make a change.

I'm a Propublica donor, and an avid reader. I admit that sometimes when I see that PP has published another 15,000-word expose, I am slightly dismayed at the thought that I'm about to lose 1-2 hours of my life to digesting and writing up the new story, but that dismay is always overcome by excitement at the thought that they have turned over a new rock and found something genuinely awful beneath it, and that, with all our help, we can sterilize that foetid sludge with blazing sunshine.

https://boingboing.net/2019/12/31/go-propublica-go.html

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natromanxoff · 3 years ago

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Record Mirror (July 14, 1979): 119/?

THE QUEEN BACKLASH ENDS HERE

WITHOUT DOUBT Queen are among that elite number of bands universally hated by the rock press.

The rancour is, make no mistake, mutual which is understandable. If you find yourself on the receiving end of an inveterate dislike at the outset of your career and watch it being nurtured and carefully cultivated over the next six years you’re bound to retaliate.

Queen’s hatred manifests itself by their continued habit of ignoring the music press i.e. refusing to give interviews. There is the occasional token “chat”, pointless as it is innocuous, but in the main it amounts to a blanket “No.”

One of the last interviews Freddie Mercury gave was the last nail in the perspex coffin. Under a headline which boldly asked ‘Is This Man A Prat?’ the king of the leotards was demolished by one of the old school Queen haters and Freddie obviously came to the conclusion, in its wake, that interviews in future would be both superfluous (he was popular enough) and detrimental.

The curtain, velvet naturally, closed.

Roger Taylor, a little wary, a little weary, sits stiffly in an armchair. The juggernauts rattling the Chelsea Street outside create a sonorous buzz bomb hum in the room.

You expect a member of Queen to look elegant. In fact Roger is only wearing a wine colour mohair jacket, black shirt and blue jeans.

He apologises for being a little late and explains how he went to the wrong address. Roger seems to be the only member of Queen left who is prepared, albeit rarely, to open his mouth in the presence of a hack. A question springs to mind . . . why?

“We all sat around a table before I flew over from Munich to discuss the press situation and we agreed I should be the one to represent the band. Freddie is very uncompromising and refuses to have much to do with journalists.

“Obviously, he’s had a few raw deals with them in the past,” observes Taylor.

Roger himself has a rather low view of the music press.

“Most of it is rubbish. There was something I liked recently, a piece on Malcolm McLaren, but in the main I think I’m the only one of Queen to actually read the music papers.”

Why does he think the band are systemically slagged?

“I think it’s because Queen have always come across as being a rather confident band. We seemed, to other people at least, to be very sure of ourselves. I think the press may have misconstrued the confidence, mistaking it for a form of arrogance. Hence they became wary of our motives which bred a dislike for our music.”

Now that’s what I call a neat conclusion.

At the risk of being sent to Coventry by my colleagues I’d like, if I may, to come clean. I love Queen (you’re fired, Ed).

I think it all began with a simple pre-packed but indisposable line – “Dynamite with a laser beam” and has continued uninterrupted (despite the occasional flaw) right through to ‘Queen Live Killers’.

A combination of reasons, Freddie Mercury’s lascivious lisp – the most attractive intonation known to man . . . Brian May’s reel ‘em off rococo riffs that would, in his capable hands, transform the theme music for ‘Waggoners’ Walk’ into a meisterwork . . . John Deacon’s almost stoic stance, incongruous yet integral . . . Roger Taylor’s intense power, so unexpected from one so slight . . . the ability to go over the top without failing into the trap of caricature . . . a desire to give the punters what they want without pandering . . . that cast iron confidence . . . those nine glorious winter weeks of ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ which kept the cold away from my soul . . .

Yes, I love Queen.

Roger explains the story behind ‘Killers’ which features just about every Queen classic which ever found its way into a silk lined memory bank.

“We always knew that one day we would make a live album. I think it was well planned. About 90 per cent of our last European tour was recorded on a mobile unit and we then spent weeks sitting through the songs in the studio.

“The result is a 100 per cent LIVE album. Nothing has been touched up in the process of selection, I think that’s pretty rare these days. Many ‘live’ albums are tampered with.”

The choice of single is unusual – ‘Love Of My Life’. “It’s not so unusual when you hear the way it came out. The song seems to have such a wide appeal. Everywhere we go the reaction to it is the same. The audience are just bursting to sing along.”

The result is Queen’s best single since ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’ (that was their LAST one crawler, ED)

As I mentioned earlier the band are currently residing in Munich where they are “experimenting” in the studio.

“We are recording in a totally different way for us,” says Roger who speaks with a delicate London accent only typical of cockneys with dramatic training and David Essex.

“Every time we entered a studio in the past we had a good idea of what we were going to do. This time we started from scratch and the result is amazing. The music is nothing like anything we’ve done before, I guess you could say it’s much simpler.”

And this novel approach to their music also extends to their shows. On their next British tour – in the late Autumn – the band will be playing much smaller venues than they are accustomed to.

“In London for example we went to play to audiences of about two or three thousand in different areas. I think it’s much fairer to the fans.”

But won’t this affect their stage show which is after all a crucial factor for any powerpomp outfit?

“Not really. We will just scale down the show accordingly. Besides,” he says taking another bite out of the biscuit, “we haven’t used dry ice in years.”

The monkey on Queen’s back, as corpulent and cantankerous as ever, has been put there by those who firmly believe the band can never emulate past achievements. Roger is cognizant of its presence but refuses to unpeel its bananas.

“That all began after ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’. When it stayed at number one all those weeks we were kindly informed that we would never be able to make another single to rival it both artistically and from the point of view of sales.

“Yet ‘We Are The Champions’ sold a great deal more and has since become the biggest selling single in the entire history of Elektra Asylum – our label in the States.

“We don’t do the amazingly complex things any more because we’ve moved on from that. We concentrate on the music we are doing now and we intend to do it the best we can, it’s ridiculous looking behind and and what you’ve done.

“There’s nothing like going back on the road to re-unite the bond between the four personalities and strengthening our belief in the band. We are a real working unit and, in my experience of the music business, one of the most democratic bands around today.”

A statement like that cries out to be expounded.

“People think every member of all the bands, not naming any names, are treated equally that is get the same money as their colleagues. That’s rubbish. In many bands there are a couple of guys that get all the money. The rest are on wages. Queen share the profits equally.”

And they don’t have a manager taking his cut either, John Reid departed a couple of years back and now the band themselves make all the major policy decisions. Why did they decide to dispense with the services of a manager?

“Basically because we were fed up with giving other people money. Y’know it never ceases to amaze me how naive those guys are in bands who have just had their first hit. After all this time I’ve forgotten just how naive we must have been at the beginning.

“I mean, everything seems so great when you get into the charts for the first time. You’re living on cloud nine and nothing else matters. But in truth that hit means absolutely nothing. So few people achieve any amount of financial success in this business.

“Oh, you think, you’re really living . . . for a while. Somebody gets you a flat in Chelsea and it’s all free. But one day the rent stops being paid for you and you realise you’re skint.

“Since John Reid has gone the four of us have always made a point of discussing everything together. We have various people working for us but all the important decisions are made by us alone. That way we get freedom of choice – and financial independence.”

My attention is suddenly diverted.

“FORTY-LOVE!” Wimbledon, the Persil White opiate for the hoi polloi squashed in a strawberry crush wrings out its perspiring petticoats on the TV in the next room. Roger’s girlfriend, an extremely attractive French girl called Dominique, is engrossed. The couple have lived together for two years. Crippled old marriage questions permeate the air.

“I don’t believe in marriage,” says Roger. “It’s simply a contract and the fewer contracts I enter into the better. If you get on well with someone then there isn’t any harm in living with that person – but marriage is something else again.”

They live in a six bedroomed Victorian house just outside London, which is set in 20 acres. Roger has a “tiny” town house in Barnes as well. What’s it like having a bank full of money at the age of 29?

“I don’t hide away from life. Queen have never been one of those ‘being grabbed in the street’ type bands. It may happen when the four of us are together – but when we are out alone we are seldom bothered. That gives me the opportunity to enjoy myself. I go to clubs a lot. I like having a good time. I don’t think you could describe any of the band as leading sheltered lives.

“But I have completely lost touch with how much things cost. When you find yourself living in hotels for so long you never really deal in money as such. Everything is available whenever you want it – but you never see the cash actually being handed over.

“I’ve forgotten what it was like to be penniless which Queen were for years. I guess that must happen to many successful rock bands.”

Another thing that happens to many successful rock bands – they quit the country. But not Queen it appears.

“We have always based ourselves in England and I see no reason why we shouldn’t continue to do so. We could leave at any time but we choose to stay. People believe we are tax exiles because we spend a lot of the time out of the country recording in studios all over Europe and touring.”

And what will happen when the band finally trudge wearily down the road leading to that ivory strewn elephants’ graveyard . . . ?

“I know it’s bound to happen one day. I suppose I’d take a long, long holiday . . . and then make a solo album.”

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #dominique beyrand #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #record mirror #record mirror july 1979 #queen scans

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softandweto · 4 years ago

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Help

I know I should put this up somewhere else, but I can’t. Tumblr is my only option and I need all the help I can get right now please.

I had to make a GoFundMe because there’s nothing else I can do. Please spread the word and the link is right here. I’ll be putting the same info in the GoFundMe under the Read More for those who want information up front.

Hello, I hope this finds any who visit well. Before I get into the reason for me making this, I’d like for you all to know how we got here.

My name is Xenia and my boyfriend and I have been living together for nearly a year now. At the beginning, things were going very well. We both had a stable income, and while that trailer was not the best place, we were secure and didn’t have to worry much about finances. Then, March came around and Covid hit us hard. I lost my job as a Teaching Assistant for Special Education, and my boyfriend’s job got more dangerous as a Med Tech working in a nursing home. I was unable to find a job for months, and things were starting to take a bad turn.

We had some friends living in the state next over who had offered the both of us to move in with them. My boyfriend would have to go back to CNA work, however, as that would be the only license of his that could transfer to the state. My license as a Teaching Assistant was originally for that state, so it seemed to be perfect. After weighing all our options, we decided to make the move and take the risk.

Once again, things were looking well. We both got a new job within the month, and only had to worry about paying a combined $600/month outside of our car payments. With all this, we were able to put up with a lot of things. A majority of the house leaving the place in disarray for the both of us to handle. The racism that we didn’t catch up on until the end. The disregard for my dogs and their health. The fact that, despite how behind the house supposedly was on bills, they could afford to continue to finance new furniture and electronics while we could barely afford to pay the rent and our own food. We could put up with it because we were with friends. No way they would do all this on purpose.

Eventually, after two months of living there, it became too much and they used every excuse possible to force us out of their home and ostracized us. Suddenly, we were the issue. It was our fault their dishes continued to pile up. It was our fault they felt too anxious to leave their rooms. All their problems were now because of us. We had no other choice to move in with my mom and my brother in our old state. Once again, we were out of jobs and couldn’t find work no matter where we looked. I eventually found a job as a server again, but he was unable to find any work despite his CNA credentials.

When October came around, I was working full time for a server minimum wage, while my boyfriend had finally gotten some good news and was starting to work. We scrimped and saved for two months and were finally able to get enough to get our own home. A trailer in a small suburb just outside town was freeing up early December. At first, the price for the rent seemed impossible to make. But, I had received an email from a work from home position I applied for. Early January, I would be starting with them for more than minimum wage.

Things were finally coming into place. Things were once again looking up and we could taste the stability. Then, after a week of being moved in, we decided to enjoy a meal together made in our own home. All the stress, all the craziness we had put up with, it was worth it. But, we couldn’t taste our food. We started noticing the coughs when we were moving, but didn’t think much of it till then. We got tested, and our fears proved to be true. We had Covid.

It was brutal. It felt like suddenly we’d lose everything. The two weeks we spent in quarantine was like our own personal hell scape. Within the first week I was notified they were training someone else to take over my Shift Lead position. A title more than anything, since the pay did not change and minimum wage was all I could get, but that didn’t stop what I knew was coming next. A few days later, I was let go. Tossed aside like an inconvenience. For my boyfriend, they just put him out entirely. For the third time in one year, we were both out of a job. But now, we could face eviction.

We recovered from Covid, and just in time too. I was able to start my new job, but two weeks of no pay had put us out tremendously. One company hired my boyfriend, but we would shortly learn that they would never actually give him any hours. December and January have tested us on what we could and couldn’t live without. We had to forgo a majority of necessities.

We couldn’t set up a disposal service. We had to leave mail to pile up. Living off Dollar Tree groceries. Go weeks without gas. Pawn what we could just so we could make rent and utilities. Now, with February ending, all of this has caught up to us.

Months of garbage have piled up so high we’ve designated a “trash room” just to keep it out of the way. Toiletries have been out for weeks, but we can’t even afford groceries so soap and cleaning products are out of the question. Our propane is almost completely gone. All the cans of food we had stockpiled are a day away from running out. And we can’t afford our bills. Not with all my checks being used to barely keep us alive.

My boyfriend has recently started a new job, but they won’t pay him in time for us to pay our bills. Which is why I’m reaching out to y’all for help. We have both done everything in our power to keep ourselves above water, but now we can no longer keep it up on our own.

Here is a breakdown of our situation as of today:

My recent paycheck is completely gone after using it to get some of our bills stabilized, but they are already getting back into the red with how far behind we are.

Our car payments are coming up as well as insurances. One car payment is my full check, and we won’t be able to pay for one of them, much less their insurance

We were able to get rid of four bags of trash thanks to some helpful neighbors, but it’s starting to pile once more and I’m worried bugs will start to come out

Internet and Electric must be paid within the next few days in full or risk disconnection. With these two gone, I can’t make any money whatsoever

Food will be out as of Tuesday and with no money left from my check, we’ll be unable to get any groceries for who knows how long

We just ran out of Propane which is used to keep water hot as well as to cook

I hate asking for help and not letting people know what the situation is or what the money will be used for, so I will do so now.

I am asking for 2500 which will leave us with a touch of extra money for things like groceries, toiletries, and vehicle maintenance that is greatly needed. The breakdown is as follows:

$550 - Rent

Rent is due on the 12th of each month and requires two checks to meet. Last month we were able to pay in two separate payments, but our landlord has said that it was the only time and March forward it will need to be in full each month.

$650 - Car Payments

Both cars are $300/month, but we’ve passed my boyfriend’s due date and have incurred a late fee. My car is due on the 6th and if it’s not paid in time, they will repo.

$500 - Insurance

Both Insurances are ~$250 each. Without the insurance, the cars will also risk repossession and my boyfriend needs the vehicles for transportation

$235 - Internet + Electric

I’ve lumped these together since they are both necessary for my job as well as being ones that need to be paid by this Tuesday or they will disconnect

$100 - Propane

$100 gives us enough propane to last a month. Without this, we can’t shower, do laundry, or even cook

$120 - Disposal + Mail

Disposal and Mail service needs to be set up as soon as possible, but to be honest they are low on my priority list compared to everything above.

$345 - Groceries, Toiletries, Cat Care, and Car Maintenance

With the extra money we can comfortably get through a month with little hassle. I know that more bills will be due later on, but once my boyfriend starts getting steady checks again We can at least make it through on our own with this little extra

I know that right now, things are very tough. I may also come about as rather...presumptuous and hopeful that maybe, just maybe, people can help us out in our time of need. I know it’s a lot to ask, but if you see this and are unable to help us out yourselves, please spread the word as much as you can. I cannot allow us to fall after everything we’ve been able to get through this horrible year. Please, if you can give even a dollar, that’s one dollar closer to getting out of this hole.

Thank you, and I hope that you all have a safe and happy time going forward.

#gofundme #help #homeless #bills #covid #im sorry yall im just at my limit and getting desperate

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atomicblasphemy · 3 years ago

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Blight Industries Board Meeting

I have some thoughts about that EE episode. Being myself I just couldn’t put them out in a sensible fashion, so I put on some crust in my headphones, amped everyone’s cynicism, and here’s the result.

O: Good evening everyone and welcome to the Blight Industries board meeting of number...

Ed and Em shoot glances at each other as confused about how they ended up there as when it happened for the first time.

Al looks longingly at his workshop door.

Amity glares.

Am: Mom, can we try to have dinner like a normal family which, according to Merriam-Webster at least, we technically are? For once at least?

O: That can wait, Mittens. Anyway, I called you all here to announce I shall be making some changes to our company. Namely, I shall change the job titles of the three of you. I’m still CEO, Alador still development, research and, well, the assembly line I suppose. As for you, Emira, Edric, you’re now in charge of security. I don’t want to hear about company secrets leaking out, okay? Mittens, you’re our new marketing department.

Am: Marketing?

Em: Seriously, mom?

Od: Dearests, this is a meeting please use our appropriate titles.

Ed: No no no no. They have a point. Okay, let me see if I understand your thought process. So, you’re the head of a company, right?

Od: I don’t like your tone, Edric. But okay, I’ll humor you. Yes I am, go on.

Ed: And said company essentially sells only guns.

Od: Mhmm, what’s your point?

Ed: And you think that the best way to convey that is by using your local annoyed teenage lesbian that half the time looks like she would be rather doing literally anything else? Is that a correct assessment, ma’am?

Od: Oh, and I suppose you have a better idea?

Em: Yeah, we do. ANYONE ELSE. We *frantically and repeatedly points her finger from herself to Edric* could do this, I mean we tried to leak our sister’s journal just a few weeks ago so we clearly know nothing about keeping secrets. You could do it. I mean, no offense, but putting up a show seems to be your only useful skill because if this your idea of how to run a company, we... aaaaand now I’m suddenly starting to realize where we get our decision making incompetence from. Anyway. This guy *points at Alador* could do it if you just made sure to remind him that that’s what’s funding his little research. Heck, you could hire Luz. She’s pretty charismatic and just took a shot at the Emperor himself. I’m sure having someone like that vouching for our products would do wonders for our business. See? That’s how you make a half-decent marketing strategy. Besides, I hear Luz could use the money and I’m sure Mittens would be happy to have her working here.

Am: Yup, normally I’d have other reasons but honestly I’d just be happy someone else is doing this particular job.

Al: *woop there goes gravity* Why? I told you this wasn’t the best idea. Besides, we agreed, twice at least, that I would take care of the abominations and you’d be in charge of everything else *leans in closer to whisper conspiratorially to Odalia* I don’t like dealing with them *points at their very loving children*.

Ed, Em, and Am: HEY!

Al: *sighs* Listen to your boss, children.

The children huddle closer, they are the conspiratorial ones now.

Am: We’re gonna end up broke and starving, aren’t we?

Em: Yeah, isn’t it weird though? I mean, you’d think they’d have found someone better to... sponsor by now. Apparently that’s not the case. Moreover, why do they, our parents I mean, keeping putting so many resources into product development then? And it’s not even like we’re branching out into new markets, making some groundbreaking products. Nope, just shinier versions of the old stuff.

Am: Hum... Can either of you teach me how to write a resume?

Ed: I... uh... was going to ask you the same thing.

--------------------------

Later.

Em: Okay, let’s recap the recent events, shall we?

Odalia and Alador were sat side by side in flimsy wooden chair at the factory’s storage area. Their children loomed over them with stern faces.

Am: First off, you decided to entirely restructure the company, you know, the one with our name in it. And you did so by making all possible wrong choices. Especially putting me as the face and head of marketing.

Ed: Then, secondly, when you realized that wasn’t working due to Mittens, justifiably I might add, wanting to do pretty much anything else with her time. So you two in a strike of parenting brilliance decide that the best way to deal with all of that was not to, oh I don’t know, hire some specialist or anything like that for the position and let her, and us, be teenagers like any normal parent would do. No, instead you think: “Hey, I’ll double down and alienate the one of my children giving me a hard time from the only people she seems to like.”

Al: In our defense...

Em: AND THEN, when one of said people decide to actually do something about, and in a very diplomatic fashion given the circumstances, mind you, you go ahead and try to commit murder in front of a large audience of potential witnesses. Granted, not a particularly morally upstanding audience given the type of products they were trying to buy, but still. Do you have any idea how many people would want a piece of you if you actually hurt the human? You have three of them standing in front of you right now.

Od: Well, Emira dearest, you can’t argue with the numbers. Tonight’s sale was an astounding success.

Am: And she still has her poise despite all the failures... Look, the three of us, we’ve been talking. We somehow are also part of the board, right? Moreover, we are, despite all evidence on the contrary, still employs of this company. So we put things through a vote.

Ed: First off, we’re unionizing. And your first demand is better working conditions...

Od: I’m not putting apple blood fountains in the factory floors. That’s off the table. I already told this Edric. The abominations take a surprising liking to the stuff.

Em: We can discuss the specifics later. We have other topics at hand.

Al: Okay, like what?

Em: You two are out. Actually just you mom. We still need dad for development of new products and stuff.

Od: WHAT? You can’t do this.

Am: Let me rephrase what Emira said: you’re not CEO anymore. She is.

Al and Od: EMIRA?

Ed: Yes, Emira. I’ll be in charge of supply and distribution as well as any other duties dad still had besides research and develop. Mom, you’re the new Mittens. I mean, marketing. You’re in charge of marketing now. Just marketing and literally nothing else. I’m sure we won’t regret giving you this much responsibility. And, by the way. One mistake and we’re hiring Luz for the job. AND we’re giving her enough shares to sit at the board.

Od: *starts chuckling while reaching for a small book in her vest* I can’t say I’m not angry at the three of you, but it is indeed nice to see you trying to take a more active role in the company. But there’s a big flaw to your little coup. You see, according to article 15 of the Blight Industries statute, Alador’s vote, as well as mine...

Al: I’m voting with them, Odalia.

Everyone else turns to look at him, wide eyed.

Al: Look, I’m not ecstatic about this or anything. But at the end of day if Edric is taking half the load off my shoulders then I’ll have the more time in my workshop. And away from them. Odalia, don’t look at me like that, I told you the other day I was wanting us to develop magic powered air fryers. Now I’ll have the time for that. We can tap onto more markets this way, more money.

Od: ... You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.

Al: *sighs* How about Mittens, what will she do now?

Am: Librarian. That’ll be my new job title.

Al: We have no use for a librarian, Amity. You know that, don’t you?

Am: I know. I’m not working here anymore. Gary had been telling me for some time about this internship opening. I start Monday. But don’t go thinking I’ll leave the board. I’m keeping my shares and besides, Ed and Em agreed to keep me as an adviser.

Od: Oh look at our daughter, Alador. Going all out on that daily grind, making the minimum wage. Are you sure you can handle it, Mittens my dear?

Am: Well, you paid me in passive aggressive comments and threats so far. I consider minimum wage a raise if anything.

Od: Whatever you say... In any case. I suppose I’ll now be some sort of glorified secretary then.

Em: What do you mean, mom?

Od: Oh, right. You weren’t there at the time. We struck a big contract, big enough so we won’t need to worry about marketing for the foreseeable future.

Em: What? HOW?

Al: That uhh... That kid, what’s his name again? The new head of the Emperor’s coven. He came in after the sales ended, said we should go around building Frankenstein mercenaries, and that the Emperor would be buying all of our Thanos thingies aaand on top of that the state would fund all our future research.

Ed and Em: Oh... Oh... Ohh Titan... Didn’t he get ahold of Eda’s portal? Mittens, we have to tell Luz.

Am: *chuckles* Yeah, good luck with that, Emperor.

Ed: I... Are you okay? Shouldn’t you be worried?

Am: Eh... I mean... First things first. Yeah, I know he’s building an army to invade the human realm and yeah, I know we’ll be supplying the weaponry and that I should probably give Luz a heads up. But, you know. That’s pretty stupid of him when you think about it.

Ed: What?

Am: I mean, think about it. He is getting a supplier that he knows, for a fact, has a positive connection to his enemies. Meaning it would be in our interest - especially mine, you know, the other Blight with Abomination know how and the one closest to the one human living in the Boiling Isles, as proven today - to put some back doors in all the tech we’ll be selling them. Moreover... Sure humans don’t have magic but they make up for it in other ways. Luz was telling me about her realm the other day and... Well... Let me put it this way: we are not humans, meaning we are not covered by the Geneva convention. Best case scenario once Bellos opens the portal we, not them, become a colony. And humans don’t make a habit of treating their colonies with any decency. So, you know... Anyway. Worst case scenario, they’ll just start pumping napalm, anthrax, mustard gas, and all sorts of fun stuff chemical and biological weapons through the portal. Meaning we’ll die. Painfully. Heck, they can even make good on their anti-nuclear proliferation treaties and just throw it all here and make it go boom. Trust me, that alone will be enough to finish sinking the Titan.

All the other four Blights look at her wide eyed.

Am: Eh... But you know, I’ll go and tell Luz and Eda. Fir witchkind’s sake or whatever. So... See you guys later.

Od: *shaking the shock away from her head* Oh... Quite a hurry to go and see Luz, aren’t we Mittens? *a sly smile forming* I’m sorry... I meant YOUR Luz.

Ed and Em: Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Damn, missed the joke.

Al just nods in agreement.

Am: What are you people talking about?

Od: Oh, it’s nothing really Mittens, my dear child. It’s just that, you seem to be rather attached to her, aren’t you? In a very weird way, but still.

Am: Weird? Weird how? You’re talking non-sense.

Ed: No, Mittens, the lady has a point. I don’t get your thought process tonight either.

Am: I have no idea what...

Ed: No, seriously. I mean, no need to beat around the bush here: you have a gargantuan crush on her. That’s plenty obvious to everyone here.

Am: *blushing* No comments.

Ed: Whatever, I’ll take that to mean you do. So, you see your crush up on the stage. She’s fighting dad’s Thanos thingy. Which, might I add, was being controlled by him. Seriously, what the hell, dude? Is this a way to meet your potential daughter-in-law? Anyway. She’s potentially in mortal danger. And your first thought is: I’m gonna woo her.

Am: That’s... not what I thought...

Em: Yeah, Mittens. Sure. That’s why the first you did was to turn around and start climbing the ladders.

Am: I... They were fighting up there, I wanted to get to close quarters.

Em: Nope. Not buying it.

Ed: We were watching it all unfold Mittens, you started climbing the ladders before, long before, they were up there.

Am: But... the crowd.

Ed: Dispersed pretty quickly, and knowing Abomination magic, as you do, you definitely knew Thanos would have that effect.

Am: I... But... I wanted to fight close quarters... and I wanted... the higher ground.

Em: So... You are up in the pipes, and by then Luz and Thanos are already back in ground level. So you position yourself in the spot with the best lighting and a means for you to quickly climb down - I swear, I’m certain I saw you double checking to make sure you were positioned just right. Then you take your sweet time pulling your hood back up. And finally, then and only then, you go to Luz’s rescue by using your magic. And you do that before you climb down, meaning your magic has enough range, as we’ve all always known, to be effective without the close quarters or the higher.

Ed: Come on, Mittens. Just admit it. You wanted to do a super-hero landing in front of your crush. Come on...

Am: I... Do you think it worked?

Everyone, expect for Amity, looks at Alador.

Al: I dunno, why are you asking me?

Ed: Because somehow out of all of us you’re the one most likely to pick up that sort of stuff.

Al: Right, and I’m also the one least likely to care.

Am: I’M YOUR DAUGHTER.

Em: *taking a deep breath* Okay, lets pause for a second here. Ed, Mittens. Pat yourselves on the back. Come on, do it. Look, I’ll do it too. *begins patting her own back in tandem with her siblings’ more tentative display*

Am: Em... Why are we doing this?

Em: For not succumbing to drugs and alcohol (shrewd ad campaigns on Twitter aside). *Edric and Amity begin patting their backs more enthusiastically, Emira turns to their parents* You know, you two. You should pat yourselves on the back as well. I mean, sure, we’ll need years of therapy to undo all the damage the emotional neglect the both of you show us has caused so far, but no one can say we don’t get plenty of variety.

Al: Are you done being passive aggressive, Emira?

Em: What can I say? I’ve learned from the best. *looks at Odalia, who just rolls her eyes*

Al: *sighing* As for your previous question. The human seemed to be blushing as well. So my best guess is that Amity’s little... spectacle... did work.

Od: See? And you dare say it was a bad idea to put her on marketing.

Am: That’s because I had a reason to care when I was doing all that.

Od: Ohh right, then what do you suggest I had done to make you care about our, emphasis on our, business.

Am, Ed and Em in unison: Pay us for our labor.

Am: I mean, seriously. You guys built a whole business model around Abominations: a.k.a. free labor. Sure you could afford to pay us, a.k.a. self aware creatures that are not (and I’ve checked this) Abominations, something.

Ed: So... again to recap the day. Mom and dad lost their company, Bellos shot himself square in the foot. Hell, even this new coven head pretty much proved his lack of intelligence gathering competence by doing business with us. Today was a failure on every front. Even Luz when you think about it.

Em: Luz?

Ed: Yeah... She trusted... her *points at Odalia*.

Em: Ohh...

Od: HEY! I’m still your mother.

Em: Nominally, maybe. Jury still out on that one. Anyway, that reminds me. I want all our financial books for the past five years i my desk, formerly yours, in two days.

Am: I think my day was pretty successful. I have reason to believe my crush likes me back and I’ll know what a healthy professional and financial life looks like for the first in these 14 groolling and long years of existence. So things are looking up for me. Anyway... Are we done here?

Am: I guess so, why?

Am: Cool. Gonna head out.

Em: Oh, going to let your Luz know of the Emperor’s plan and bask in her presence.

Am: Emira, I swear in the Titan’s name that if you ever address her like that in front of her they will never find your body. But yes, that’s the gist of it.

Em: Fine. Actually, wait up. Lilith is living there now isn’t she? I wanted to talk to her.

Am: Lilith as in Lilith Clawthorne? Eda’s sister? Former head of the Emperor’s Coven? My former mentor? That Lilith?

Em: Yup.

Am: Why, pray tell, do you want to talk to her?

Em: Wanted to hire her. We need a new accountant.

Am: And you thought of her because...?

Em: Lack of options?

Am: I... You know what, fair enough.

Ed: Hold up. I’m coming with. I don’t like being around them *points at Odalia and Alador*.

Am: Sure.

They leaving. Only Odalia and Alador are left in the room.

Al: Wow.

Od: I know.

Al: Just... wow...

Od: I know.

Al: I don’t know how to process any of this. It happened all so fast.

Od: I know.

Al: Like... no sense of pacing at all.

Od: I know, Alador. Titan do I know.

Al: Almost as if everyone’s words were being written by an extra-dimentional entity that reaaally wanted to rant but didn’t want to put out their opinions in a more reasonable manner, and wasn’t even remotely concerned with making it sound like a normal conversation.

Od: I know.

Al: Anyway. We failed as people, didn’t we?

Od: *sighing* I know.

#THE OWL HOUSE #Edric Blight #Luz Noceda #amity blight #odalia blight #emira blight #Alador Blight

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prorevenge · 4 years ago

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Mess with minors and my job? Lose your job and your boyfriend.

Tl;dr at the end because this is a doozy.

Alright circa 2014 I worked for a large movie theatre chain in a small Midwestern city. Job was pretty awesome outside of the shit pay and essentially no way to move up. I like to think I am good at my job and I try my hardest no matter where I work. In this particular situation I was one the most tenured employees at the theatre save for two other folks who had worked there part time on the side, and had full time jobs elsewhere.

So for the sake of this story I need to tell you about Jane (not actual name). Jane started working for the theatre 2 months before me. They worked elsewhere as a supervisor and was looking to move up at the theatre. Right after I started one of the managers left to work at a different theatre and the supervisor moved up. We had two managers, one general manager (basically the highest level at the theatre), and a supervisor which is a manager in training. (This is important.) Jane somehow got the supervisor position even though there was another person who essentially was promised the position due to their continued service at the theatre for almost 8 years. There were rumors about Jane sleeping with the GM when she started and this situation got them going again. I didn’t care too much because why would I, I am but a lowly peon in the corporate machine. Anyways Jane moved up and the tenured crew member left the company because they got screwed over.

Once Jane moved up we had a whole meeting about her moving up and how the theatre focuses on professionalism and ensuring no favoritism was happening. Specifically referencing how normal crew members shouldn’t fraternize outside of work with management.

Jane didn’t really listen to that though. She continued to hang out with the crew members who were mostly underage and would do various things like go drinking with minors, taking them to bars and buying them drinks or simply buying alcohol at a store and letting them drink at her house, I honestly have no issue with the drinking at home deal, just adding context, as well smoke weed with them and post pictures on Instagram. Oh yeah I forgot to mention Jane had a secret Instagram where they would post pictures of themselves with their friends from the theatre. They chose Instagram because none of their family or their boyfriend used Instagram and no one would know right?

Even more damning was her relationship with a 19 year old that worked at the theatre. She had a boyfriend who had been with her for years and honestly supported her for all intensive purposes. Not only did she have a 19 year old side piece, but also was messing around with a 17 year old. I even caught them messing around in the break room one time. She essentially threatened me with my job if I told anyone. Honestly she could’ve just told me to please be quiet and I would have just judged her silently.

Fast forward about a year or so and another one of the managers left for a new job. Jane obviously moved up and someone else took the supervisor position. Now I won’t go into too much detail, but despite my tenure and performance I was looked over for the promotion. A newer crew member who was really good friends with Jane got the position over me. This was confirmed by the other manager who let me know that Jane was definitely in good with the GM, who ultimately made the final decision. That being said I was beginning to sour and making minimum wage for years at a job that couldn’t give a shit about my efforts and continued performance. That being said I was preparing for an exit.

Before I get into my exit, it is important to note that Jane had and most likely still has a problem with me. I have talked about some issues I had with her, but I never escalated or even confronted her about anything she did to me up to this point. I honestly left it be. But I didn’t like her and the fact I didn’t like her or play along with her bullshit infuriated her. So much to the point where she made my life hell at the theatre. When she was a supervisor she didn’t have much power but when she became manager she began giving me shit shifts, convincing people that I was weird and to avoid me (I mean I am weird but not like avoid me weird), threatening me physically, threatening my job, her and her gang of misfit assholes also slashed my tires (I have no solid proof, but my car was parked in the employee lot and ya know only employees can get in), beyond that she also made fun of my girlfriend (my now wife) for having an invisible illness (MS), she would make her life hell because she had a disability and had some minor limitations. Add together all of this, plus my GF went off to college, plus getting looked over for the promotion, suffice it to say I found a new job.

I had a few close friends at the theatre including my now wife who I met while working there (silver lining right.) I had let a few of them know about the new job, but told them to keep it on the DL since it was still two weeks away. I had put my two weeks in with the GM and asked that he also keep it on the DL since Jane and her posse would fuck with me. I told him that I wanted to tell everyone myself so it kept him quiet.

Now the important thing about my new job is that it essentially paid me double my wages from the theatre. All of my friends were stoked for me, I was taking a job that would also have me making more than the managers at the theatre but also a job that put me on a better track in life. That being said with Jane and I butting heads on multiple occasions and her track record of messing with me, she decided to get one last attack on me. She started a rumor that I was just going to call out on all of my shifts the two weeks before my new job started.

With her last act of revenge in motion, the GM approached me and let me know that he wouldn’t be scheduling me the last two weeks. I tried to explain to him that the rumors were bullshit that I needed to work because it would be my only source of income. I told him that Jane started the rumor and I started to tell him all of the other stuff as well. He of course didn’t believe me and told me that Jane wouldn’t do what I was saying she would do. So it was her word vs mine. I contacted my new job who let me know that my start date was firm and that their budget wouldn’t allow me to start until two weeks later as originally planned. Now here I am essentially jobless for two weeks. Now I was upset, but I was also lucky. I was still living with family and didn’t have to pay rent, so I sucked it up and essentially told myself that I would just take a forced two week vacation. But Jane didn’t stop there. She escalated again by having one of her cronies call my new job and tell them that I got fired. I was luckily able to talk down my new boss by letting him know that this wasn’t the case that I put my two weeks in and everything else, but that was the last straw.

I left my last day at the theatre and while it was sad and I was upset that I wouldn’t be able to work out the last two weeks of my job that I had for years, I was focused and determined on revenge. Rule #1 of living a secret life and having a secret Instagram is not add every body and their mother to the page. I had a friend of a friend who also didn’t care for Jane let’s call them Joe. Joe and I had gone to high school together and briefly worked at the theatre together. He and Jane were part of the same group at the theatre until they had a small falling out. Nothing crazy but he wasn’t exactly happy with her. I talked to Joe and we discussed my issues with Jane over some lunch that I bought for him. (Food is the key to all revenge plots.) Once we ate and discussed my problems with Jane I asked for his help. I needed access to her Instagram. Ya know the secret one, showing her hanging out with underage employees, drinking alcohol and smoking weed with them, and also some mushy posts about her 19 year old boyfriend, as well as some moderately racy photos with her 17 year old fling. With very little discussion he gave me full access.

I took screenshots of essentially everything. We are talking 2-3 years worth of illicit and moderately illegal activity. More than enough to get her fired and to raise some questions in her relationship. I took the screenshots and I printed them on the most high quality paper/material that CVS had to offer. I also copied them too a few flash drives for good measure. I purchased two yellow padded envelopes (can never be too safe), and I filled them both with copies of all of the posts as well as a flash drive with additional copies. As well I included a note in each one for the appropriate parties.

One of the envelopes was taped to the back door of the theatre. There was somewhat of a blind spot so pulled into the parking lot from the rear and snuck around the corner mission impossible style to tape the envelope to the back door. On it was the GM’s name, as well in the letter I merely stated that one of their managers had a secret Instagram with a lot of damning evidence of not only favoritism, but also fraternizing with underage employees amongst other wrong doings. In the letter I also requested her immediate termination or the information would be provided to the district manager as well as our corporate office. I made sure to put it somewhere the GM would see on his morning sweep when he opened the theatre. The second folder and letter was delivered to her home by Joe. Joe agreed to this as I knew Jane’s schedule and had a good idea of when she would be gone and he knew where she lived from previous hang outs.

With both folders delivered it was only a matter of time. Before I knew it I was receiving death threats from Jane’s gang. All of them saying that they knew it was me and that Jane was going to come after me, that she never did anything to deserve this. It didn’t matter to me of course, I no longer worked there and would hopefully never have to deal with them again. From what I heard she was taken into the main office of the theatre and the GM let her have it. He ultimately had to fire her because there was very clear proof that she was in direct violation of many of the rules and conditions of her employment. As well her boyfriend with proof in hand kicked her out of his home.

Last I heard she moved farther north and hasn’t held down a solid job since. Her family didn’t want much to do with her once everything came out with her cheating on her boyfriend. Also the part about fooling around with a 17 year old tends not to sit well. In the end I started my new job without fail and moved on from that place. Haven’t see much of anyone from there since.

Tl;dr: Manager makes my life hell, continues to hang out and fool around with underage crew members, lives to regret it. Enjoy losing your job and your boyfriend.

(source) story by (/u/Ike09161995)

#prorevenge #by /u/Ike09161995 #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 4 years ago

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LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

April 7, 2021

Heather Cox Richardson

Last night, commentator Kevin Williamson published a piece in National Review justifying voter suppression by suggesting that “the republic would be better served by having fewer—but better—voters.” Representatives, he says, “are people who act in other people’s interests,” which is different from doing what voters want.

This is the same argument elite slaveholder James Henry Hammond made before the Senate in 1858, when he defended the idea that Congress should recognize the spread of human enslavement into Kansas despite the fact that the people living in that territory wanted to abolish slavery. Our Constitution, Hammond said, did not dictate that people should “be annoyed with the cares of Government,” but rather directed that they should elect leaders who would take those cares upon themselves.

It is the same argument wealthy men made in the 1890s when they illustrated that laws calling for “better” voters meant that white registrars would hand-pick the nation’s voting population. In the South and the North both, legislators wrote new state constitutions to keep Black men, immigrants, and poor workers from the polls. Leading Americans argued that such men “corrupted” the vote by electing lawmakers who provided public infrastructure like schools and hospitals, paid for with the tax dollars of hardworking white men. To keep poor voters and men of color from the ballot, new state laws called for literacy tests, in which white registrars personally judged a man’s ability to read; poll taxes for which one had to keep the receipts; grandfather clauses, in which a man could vote if his grandfather had, and so on.

Williamson’s is the same argument Arizona Senator Barry’s Goldwater’s ghostwriter made in 1960 in The Conscience of a Conservative, when he wrote in frustration about the New Deal government that was wildly popular despite businessmen’s hatred for it. The framers had absolutely not created a democracy, he wrote, but rather had worried about “a tyranny of the masses” who would vote for laws that redistributed tax dollars into projects that would benefit themselves.

The theory of government that lies behind the argument for limiting the vote to “better” voters was also articulated by Senator Hammond in his 1858 speech. He explained that the South had figured out the best government in the world. It had put a few wealthy, educated, well-connected men in power over everyone else: those he called “mudsills,” workers who produced the capital that supported society but had little direction or ambition and had to be controlled by their superiors. In the South, Hammond explained to his northern colleagues, the mudsills were Black, but in the North they were wage workers. It was imperative such men be kept from political power, for “[i]f they knew the tremendous secret, that the ballot-box is stronger than ‘an army with banners,’ and could combine, where would you be? Your society would be reconstructed, your government overthrown, your property divided… by the quiet process of the ballot-box….”

In 1859, Abraham Lincoln rejected this vision of government by wealthy elites and replaced it with one of his own. Government worked best not when it protected the property and thus the power of a few wealthy elites, said this poor man’s son, but when it protected equality of access to resources and equality before the law for everyone. Rather than concentrating wealth upward, society should protect the rights of all men to the fruits of their own labor.

Throughout our history, adherents of these two different visions of what constitutes the best government for the U.S. have struggled. On the one hand are those who say that the country operates best when the government is controlled by a few wealthy, educated, well-connected, and usually white and male leaders. The argument goes that they are the only ones with the skills, the insight, and the experience to make good decisions about national policy, particularly economic policy. And it is important that wealth concentrate in their hands, since they will act as its stewards, using it wisely in lump sums, while if the workers who produce wealth get control of it they will fritter it away.

On the other hand are those like Lincoln, who believe that government should reflect the will of the majority, not simply on principle, but because a wide range of voices means the government has a better chance of getting things right than when only a few people rule.

In today’s world, Americans appear to be siding with the popular measures of the Democrats. A Morning Consult/Politico poll today says that 65% of Americans support higher corporate taxes to pay for infrastructure and that 82% want infrastructure in any case. To make matters worse for the Republicans, counties that voted for Biden provide 70% of the nation’s gross domestic product, the value of goods and services in the nation. The large corporations Republicans used to be able to count on for money and support are now eager to court these young, liberal producers.

So, to combat the nation’s drift toward popular government, it appears the current-day Republican Party has taken up the cause of elite rule.

Williamson is not the only Republican to muse about how getting rid of voters might be good for the nation. Arizona state representative John Kavanagh has said of voting that “[q]uantity is important, but we need to look at the quality of votes as well.”

Today, Senator Tom Cotton (R-AR) reacted to a story about rising crime rates during the pandemic by tweeting that “[w]e have a major under-incarceration problem in America.” He appears to think that we need more people in jail despite the fact that we already imprison our people at a rate more than 5 times higher than that of the rest of the world. We imprison nearly 2.3 million people, with another 3.6 million on probation and another 840,000 on parole. More important for the current struggle over government, though, his statement is that of an authoritarian rather than a democratic leader, and fits nicely with the idea of a strong-handed elite rule.

In Florida, Republican lawmakers appear ready to silence their opponents with a law that would, according to the Miami Herald, “require public colleges and universities to survey students, faculty and staff about their beliefs and viewpoints.” It would also permit students to record their professors without their consent for a civil or criminal case against their school. A lobbyist for the measure, Barney Bishop, told journalist Ana Ceballos that “the cards are stacked in the education system… toward the left and toward the liberal ideology and also secularism — and those were not the values that our country was founded on…. [T]hose are the values that we need to get our country back to.” “The truth of the matter,” he said, “is that kids are being indoctrinated from an early age.”

Also today, a member of the Boogaloo Bois who attended a “Stop the Steal” rally at the state capitol in Minnesota as part of the attempt to overturn the results of the 2020 election was arrested and charged with illegal possession of a machine gun. He had used a 3D printer to alter a semi-automatic weapon to make it shoot automatically.

The Republican attack on democracy is not playing well at home (although a number of our adversaries like it well enough). A new Gallup poll shows that an average of 49% of Americans consider themselves Democratic or Democratic-leaning Independents while only 40% identify as Republicans or as Republican-leaning Independents. This is the highest split since 2012.

Still, in the end, if Republicans manage to rewrite the voting laws to silence their opponents, how their actions play with the majority of American voters won’t matter in the least.

—-

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#political #Heather Cox Richardson #Letters From An American #voting rights #history #racism #classism #corrupt Gop #criminal GOP #Lincoln #wealth #poverty #the poor

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hazelhymns · 4 years ago

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Hi i’ve followed you for a while and you’ve made a few posts about your career. I have no idea what to do with my life but I’m really interested in what you do. Could you explain it more? I’m kinda uncomfortable coming off of anon but if you want i can message you. Thank you!!

omg this is so cool! This is gonna be a long post so bear with me. First off let’s start with education.

Education: Not sure how it is for all states but here in NY you need to get in to an accredited surgical tech program. It’s a 2 year degree but I believe you can go for 4 years. If you do the bachelors degree there’s more room for moving up, like going back to PA school or becoming a surgical first assist. You’ll have to take classes like anatomy, microbiology, ethics, pharmacology, and the basics your college will require. I went to community college and it was an amazing program. During your schooling you’ll be going to clinical, where you go to hospitals and scrub into surgeries with a supervising surgical tech scrubbed with you. My clinical was Thursday and Friday 7am-3pm. It’s a tough program, I won’t sugarcoat it. College kicked my ass. Also be warned, there really isn’t much room to move up as a tech, you’re pretty much stuck with scrubbing unless you go back to school. Whereas if you get your RN you can do a whole lot more. Majority of surgical techs go back to become a nurse. After you graduate you have to sit down for your CST exam which is 175 questions and you need a 102 to pass. From there on, you need to do what’s called CEUs (continuing education credits). These are provided by the AST (association of surgical techs) they have some free ones but majority of credits will have to be paid for. These are gained by going to conferences and doing exams on the AST website. You have to earn 60 CEUs every 4 years but i believe they’re changing that to something that you have to do it every 2 years. If you don’t want to do this, you’ll have to retake the CST exam every 2 years and the exam is $250 each time, and there’s no guarantee you’ll pass. When you get a job you’ll be on orientation for 3-6 months and then you’ll be a full grown surgical tech

Pay: it depends on your state but the average for surgical techs in NY is $26-$28 an hour. NY is one of the highest paid states for techs. You are the least educated and lowest paid person in the OR. You can go on the AST website and they have a map of wages for every state.

Duties: oh boy, this is gonna be long LOL. Your main job and main focus is maintaining the sterile field during surgery. I think it’ll be easier to just explain a day in the life. Before my first case of the day I like to see which OR I’ve been assigned to. That will be your room for the entire day but it will be different doctors and different surgeries throughout your shift. From there, I go to what’s called a “case cart” that is made in sterile processing. There is a cart for each surgery scheduled for the day with the patients name and the surgeons preference card. The preference card is extremely important. This card will tell you what supplies you need to have in the OR that the surgeon wants so it’s important to check the cart before the procedure begins. Then I head to the OR and make sure all of the supplies are in there (for example sometimes there isn’t an OR bed in there or enough IV poles so you have to stay on top of it.) Before the surgery starts, it’s your job and the nurses job to get the room ready. First, you’ll drape what’s called a back table. This is your main table where all of the sterile supplies will be. Once the drape is on, it’s sterile and you can’t touch it until you are sterile. You have to scrub into surgery (3-5 minute timed scrub followed by gowning and gloving yourself). While you’re scrubbing your nurse will be opening sterile supplies onto the back table. Once you’re scrubbed and the nurse ties up your gown, you go to your back table and begin organizing. You open your blades, your basins, sponges, and most importantly your instrument trays. Instrument trays are put together by sterile processing based on various procedures. It’s your job to know what instruments your doctor will want to use. Your main instruments go onto whats called a mayo stand (another thing you need to drape and keep sterile it’s a small table that you wheel over and prop over the patient during surgery). The mayo stand is your god, your temple. You organize it however you need it to be. Be warned, surgeons don’t care about how neat you keep it so you will be constantly reorganizing the instruments since they just throw it back on the mayo haphazardly. SUPER IMPORTANT: you and the RN have to perform the surgical count. This is where we count every blade, every sponge, every instrument, and anything else that can get lost in the body. You count before surgery, you count before closing the body, and you count one more time before the patient is out of the room. You can count as many times as you want but you gotta at least do 3 counts. It’s tedious and my least favorite part of the job. Once the patient is in the room, you gown and glove the surgeons. You assist in draping the patient (which is super hard until you get used to it) and then you throw off your cords. The cords are for what’s called a bovie (every surgeon uses it), and your suction tubing. Some surgeries require power drills and other wires so you have to keep all of it organized. During the surgery, you stand right next to the doctor. They’ll ask for an instrument, and you hand it to them. In school you’ll learn as many instruments you can (i think i’ve learned up to 600 instruments by now) and the proper passing techniques. The surgeon cannot do his job if you aren’t doing yours. Below i’ve added pictures of a back table and a mayo stand for an ankle replacement that I set up, with labels!

Warnings: This is a thankless job. Nobody knows we exist in the outside world. You’ll be on your feet your entire shift. You need to be strong, in order to hold heavy things like amputated limbs, retractors, and fun stuff like that. You will see people die, and you will save people’s lives. Blood is unpredictable, it can go anywhere so don’t wear shoes you like, and wear eye protection. Doctors are stressed and tense, they will yell at you. Majority of surgeons are men, so it can be an aggressive environment. Surgical techs will yell at you. Nurses will yell at you. The OR has a mentality of “eat the young” and they will, but it’ll make you a better and stronger tech. Surgeries move fast, you need to be paying attention the entire time. A lot of instruments look the same, it will take time to be able to differentiate them. We don’t get paid what we are deserved and our union reps are pretty useless. If you work at a hospital, you will have to take call, and overtime. Majority of the time though, it’s an 8 hour shift, 5 days a week or 10 hour shifts 4 days a week. Majority of surgeons like to listen to music while operating and it’s mainly cool dad bbq music. The smell of burning flesh takes a long time to get used to, but you have to get used to it. You’re exposed to a lot of carcinogens.

Pros: this is an amazing job despite the adversities. You get to see AMAZING things. I’ve seen babies born, i’ve watched organ transplants, gunshot wounds, stabbings, broken bones, one time we opened someone’s face and took out all of their sinuses and their entire eyeball so their face was just a giant hole and i had a rare glimpse into anatomy ive never seen outside of a textbook. If that’s your thing like it is mine, this job is good for you. Everything is clean and neat and organized which is my favorite part of the job. You work very closely with other people so you guys will bond and become a family. You become friends with doctors so you can ask for free medical advice LOL. This career is so rewarding and i find myself choosing it over and over and over again.

#long post #surgical technologist #personal #career #anon #tw: blood #tw: medical #surgical tech

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kramlabs · 4 years ago

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So You Want To Believe The So-Called 'Experts'?*

By Karl Denninger

Let's go down the list.

This virus was newly discovered in January of 2020. FALSE; Judicial watch has now proved that Fauci and the NIH knew that Covid-19 was diagnosed no later than December 2nd 2019 in Wuhan. This was deliberately concealed under confidentiality agreements between China and the NIH. In short Dr. Fauci and the NIH knowingly and repeatedly lied about the time of first discovery and diagnosis and it is documented that this was known in February and early March and not disclosed. We also now know with scientific certainty that the virus was in the US no later than the second week of December of 2019 because antibodies were found in about 1.5% of blood donations from that time. This, along with the sequencing back-computation I performed in early 2020 places the latest the virus entered the US as sometime in October of 2019 and from the blood bank data it is scientifically proved it had infected about 1.5% of the population, or roughly 4 million people in the US, by the second week of December 2019. This in turn means that we had widespread disease which was blamed on something else. Indeed we handled all 4 million of those cases just fine up until the hysteria started, didn't we? You didn't even know those 4 million sick people, and those who died of it, existed prior to the hysteria being ginned up.

15 days will slow the spread. "If we all stay home and minimize contact for 15 days -- including closing businesses, schools and not traveling -- Covid will be under control and we can trace infections and stop it." FALSE and we now know impossible because the virus was already all over the country on an uncontrolled basis by that time and the NIH knew the virus had been circulating for at least a month earlier than they admitted at the time. It is true that if you immediately slam your borders shut 100% you can trace and quarantine yourself out of a transmissible epidemic -- at the cost of essentially all external trade, travel and tourism. But Fauci factually knew when we started that this was impossible because the virus had been spreading here for at least two months at the time and we hadn't done a thing about it for those two months. We were later to learn it was four months and perhaps longer.

If you give us 30 more days (remember, this is now six weeks to slow the spread) it'll work. FALSE AGAIN for the same reason; the NIH and Fauci knew there was no possible way to contain the virus when the original 15 days expired as he knew, factually, that the virus had been uncontained for at least three months.

But the lockdowns and restrictions worked to save lives! Nope; this is called the "exception fallacy" and now a peer-reviewed journal entry demonstrates it. We knew this early on too; indeed for five decades we've had "pandemic response plans" that make clear that once you have widespread community dispersion of an infectious agent attempting to lock down people or impose any other sort of non-pharmaceutical intervention is futile and causes harm. We ignored said decades of hard-won experience -- intentionally.

We don't have enough ventilators! FALSE; not one of the DPA-produced ones was ever needed; NY's Governor lied and had plenty of them, as did everyone else.

Ventilators not only are needed they will save lives. FALSE; they killed nearly everyone put on one then, and still do. We knew they didn't work in February as they killed 95% of the people put on then in Wuhan and this had been reported out by March.

This is mostly a community-spread disease in places like stores, bars, restaurants, churches, concerts and the local city street. FALSE; the CDC itself documented that more than half of all transmission was happening in homes and the next largest, and only other statistically material spread was occurring in industrial (e.g. meat packing) plants and health care settings. Nashville suppressed the fact that they could only trace about one percent of infections to social businesses such as bars and restaurants and now the CDC itself has stated that less than 1% of spread is traceable to such public venues as restaurants and bars. In other words we knew by late spring of 2020 the restrictions, including business closures, school shutdowns and masks couldn't work as that's not where the virus was spreading; we couldn't shut down the industrial plants without starving the population and destroying both energy production and sanitary services leading to an immediate societal and economic collapse. Nor could we invade every house and forcibly segment positive-tested people either; we had neither the resources nor would they get away with it without the cops and government goons being turned into swiss cheese. And when it comes to health care we could have segregated Covid-19 facilities and the people working in care homes but intentionally did not.

Asymptomatic transmission is a major risk. FALSE. Over millions of contacts traced in China not one was ever proved to be from an asymptomatic person. There has never been scientific evidence that asymptomatic spread has been material in any pandemic through history and there is no documented evidence of material asymptomatic spread for Covid-19 in the US or anywhere else. Worse, symptomatic persons least able to afford to call out sick due to lack of paid sick time or even the threat of being fired are those in low-wage and high-contact jobs such as fast food, grocery, meatpacking and other "essential" service industries never mind care home employees who are poorly paid and often moonlight in home health care among extremely vulnerable people.

We had no way to stop the nursing home deaths and did the best we could. FALSE. I pointed out immediately after Kirkland occurred that isolating the employees from all general public interaction, effectively creating a bubble, would stop nearly all of the transmission into these environments. We happened to have a lot of empty hotels at the time too. Yes, we would have had to pay significant bonuses to entice employees to go nowhere other than that hotel room and to work but we could have, and if we did it would have saved nearly 50% of those who died in the first four months. Not one so-called "expert" demanded or even suggested doing so but I was calling for exactly this in March of 2020. This, of course leaves aside the various Executive Orders that intentionally seeded the virus into nursing homes in multiple states by multiple Governors. Indeed even this winter in still-locked-down New York there was still no segregation of employees and residents were killed in size by infection brought into the care home by employees. Recent small case number spikes have been associated with vaccine distribution. How's that possible? There's only one rational explanation: The health care workers are giving the virus to the patients getting the shot! And yet we are still told that all these people are "heroes" and don't you dare forget it.

We didn't -- and don't -- have early treatment options that work. FALSE; Japan spent their effort on early treatment and keeping people out of hospitals. They have roughly a third of our population and only 8,000 dead people. Japan is far more-dense population-wise than us yet did a hell of a lot better despite having a materially older population. What Japan didn't do, in short, is spread the disease via their health care workers. In short if you went to the hospital you were likely to die; this has proved out in my own county in Tennessee with a >60% death rate. Up until we started with the panic porn -- the entire first three months of this outbreak in the US until March of 2020 -- we did fine too despite the virus being literally everywhere for months. We in fact knew of several early treatment candidate drugs, all cheap and available, in March of 2000 and exactly zero of them were investigated by the NIH, CDC or any of the so-called "public health" institutions such as Vanderbilt, IHME, Johns Hopkins and others. Those physicians and even hospital systems who did investigate them on their own were derogated, attacked and in some cases even threatened with license suspensions and other sanctions which continue to this day.

Age is the primary determinant of risk. FALSE; obesity and the panoply of health conditions caused and exacerbated by being a fat-ass is the primary determinant of risk. Nations with lower obesity prevalence have a ten times lower or better risk of death from Covid-19 on a per-100,000 population basis. Obesity is in each and every instance a lifestyle choice. This was known very early on in the NY Coroner data which is updated frequently; only six persons 75 and older have died of Covid without one of a relatively short list of underlying conditions -- and over 10,500 died with one or more. Simply put most of those who died deliberately put themselves in a medically compromised condition through their own lifestyle choices just a person who drinks too much and ruins their liver decided to drink. Absent those personal lifestyle decisions the death rate from this disease, while certainly not zero, is approximately half as likely as death due to an automobile accident over a year's time. Read here -- this is exactly what I pointed out one year ago. Who's been right on this -- and who's been wrong?

Existing drugs will not work and we have no existing treatments until you're hospitalized; we must develop new treatments and vaccines. FALSE. The data is that ivermectin works, among others. A trial out of Australia conducted in Britain (they locked everything in and did not have enough people in Australia who were sick) showed Budesonide (a cheap inhaled steroid used for asthma) works if given immediately when someone becomes symptomatic. The latter trial was stopped because it was ruled unethical to not give the controls the medicine since it prevented ninety percent of hospitalizations. Ivermectin has worked in every trial run thus far except one recently reported study the authors themselves state cannot prove effectiveness as the necessary deterioration in cases to do so was violated to the downside immediately, possibly due to widespread community use of the drug. The data on HCQ says it works if used early but appears to be worthless if not used until you're in the hospital. Remdesivir, which has an EUA, was disproved -- that is, shown worthless in a very large trial called "Solidarity" (along with several other drugs) and yet is still being used as it is on-patent and expensive. No drug works 100% of the time nor should it be expected to, but we should damn well not continue to use drugs that are proved worthless just because they cost $3,000 and the FDA issued an EUA for them. Deliberately not treating people until they're choking to death is monstrous and has resulted in hundreds of thousands of deaths, many if not most of them avoidable at a cost of a few dollars.

Masks are the best tool we have to stop the spread and, if you just wear them for a few -- 4, 6, 8 weeks -- we will have Covid under control. Stated under oath before Congress by the CDC's director in September following multiple previous statements over a two month period in the summer by the CDC and NIH which urged (and got) the issuance of mandates. FALSE and known false as Hawaii took a ten times case rate spike a month after their mandate. This was known before Redfield perjured himself before Congress. There are ZERO states which did not take a monstrous spike in the winter despite mandates including California with the most-strict lockdowns and mask mandates in the nation. Compliance via multiple surveys has been around 90% with no evidence of effectiveness anywhere against non-mandate states and counties next door. Those states including South Dakota and Florida who repudiated the mandates or refused to issue them in the first place had identical or better outcomes than the states and locales that imposed them. The CDC has now itself published a MMWR (weekly report) in which they "claim" masks work -- their definition of "work" is a shockingly tiny 1-2% decrease in deaths and this assumes you ignore the confounding elements in their study that could invalidate even that tiny impact. In other words despite the nearly year-long and continual screaming about masks even the CDC itself now states that out of the 500,000 dead only 5,000-10,000 lives were saved at best and statistically-speaking it is entirely possible zero lives were saved. REMEMBER, WE WERE TOLD IN THE SUMMER AND EARLY FALL THAT MASKS WOULD ABSOLUTELY CONTROL THE VIRUS AND IN FACT THE CDC STATED UNDER OATH THAT MASKS WERE BETTER PROTECTION THAN A VACCINE. THIS LIE WAS REPEATED FOR MONTHS AND IS STILL BEING REPEATED TODAY. This wasn't a random statement made "off the cuff" it was made under oath to Congress five months ago and has, over time and by the data, been conclusively proved to be a lie.

The new strains will cause another spike even worse than the last one. FALSE; this was stated originally in the fall and repeated in December through February and yet since then cases have dropped like a stone despite these "new strains" becoming more and more prevalent. Florida in particular has documented widespread prevalence of one of the "demon strains" that were trumpeted in Fauci's fear porn. There has been no spike. Incidentally viruses mutate all the time; within the first few months there were hundreds of distinct viral RNA strains of Covid-19 known and that was only of the infections sequenced -- a tiny minority. If our actions do lead to new strains (specifically our ridiculously-unsound mass-vaccination campaign) and viral evasion occurs you may well be more screwed if you took the vaccine due to ADE than if you did not!

The Super Bowl will cause a huge case, hospitalization and death spike in Florida due to the ridiculously crowded parties and no masks in bars and similar all over the Tampa area. In fact the mayor threatened to arrest people for exactly this reason (an empty threat as the Governor had banned enforceability of said mandates.) FALSE; there has been no spike. Look for yourself; it's been over a month and cases, hospitalizations and deaths are all falling. Where's the spike?

Texas dropping its mask order will lead to mass-disease and death. FALSE; there has been no spike at all. Biden called the move "Neanderthal thinking" and predicted disaster, as did California's Newsom among myriad others, both among political leaders and so-called "medical experts" such as Fauci. Multiple lefties claimed that "there is no limit to how far Republicans will go to kill people." The truth is that Covid-19 cases fell by 28% in the next two weeks. The histrionics were, once again, wrong.

If we social distance and wear masks we will buy enough time for the vaccines to be developed and approved. FALSE. The case and hospitalization rate on a national basis peaked and was falling before the first jab went in the first arm. That which you do after something happens cannot be the cause. Simply put the vaccines did not stop any of the death; despite the lack of testing and rushed approvals they came too late.

The only people who count for "herd immunity" are those vaccinated. FALSE; never in history has such a lie been propagated for any disease, ever, anywhere. The CDC by its own estimates puts the lower boundary of persons infected and recovered at over 1/3rd of the nation and that's their lowest estimate. By more-reasonable belief the number is over half. Those people have immunity and absolutely count. Further, we knew in the first months that a material percentage of the population has pre-existing resistance to some degree, likely due to previous infection with other coronaviruses. This is why the case rate peaked before fully-vaccinated persons existed in the US; there is no other possible explanation.

Even if you've had the disease and recovered you should get vaccinated. There is zero science behind this claim. If you've had the measles or Chicken Pox would you take a vaccine against either? I certainly would not and have not; that would be pointless and stupid. The claim that there is no durable protection once infected is nothing more than conjecture; note that coronaviruses circulate among us all the time and while immunity may not be perfect (e.g. eventually you may well get it again) the odds are extremely high that if you do it will be a mild case and of no clinical or personal significance. Suggesting that you take the risk of an experimental vaccine if you were previously infected is wildly inappropriate; there is no such thing as a drug without risk and there is zero scientific evidence that your acquired immunity will not protect you against serious disease.

Even if you've been vaccinated or had the disease and recovered you should wear a mask and distance from others. FALSE, unless you believe the vaccines are worthless. If you believe the vaccine protects the person who takes it then you no longer need a mask or to distance and since others can choose to take a vaccine or not you have no reason to wear a mask or distance for allegedly protecting others either. If you do not believe the vaccines are effective protection then why did you take it? In short you either believe that you gain immunity by vaccination or infection or you do not; if you do then there's no reason for you to take any measures beyond either recovery or completion of the vaccination. Further, if you don't believe infection and recovery provides meaningful and durable protection then neither will the vaccine so the same scenario applies to both cases and if you do not then believe the shots are protective then you are stupid for accepting them.

These are the very same people folks -- the NIH, the CDC, State Departments of Health, Fauci, Harvard, Johns Hopkins, IHME, Vanderbilt and many more who now tell you after a solid year of unbroken lies and falsehoods that the vaccines are both safe and effective while at the same time our government has provided a 100% waiver of all liability to the pharmaceutical companies that developed and manufactured them.

I note that unlike the other common vaccines that are safe and effective, and which took 10+ years to so-prove, the mechanism of action of these shots are wildly different; they use only part of the virus and rather than introduce it into your body they hijack your cellular metabolism to produce the spike protein exactly as would a replicating infection with the virus, but since only the "spike" is there rather than the entire virus the hypothesis is that hijacking your cellular metabolism in this fashion will not hurt you. While for other vaccines the immunity produced is metabolically identical to infection because a killed whole virus that cannot replicate is used in this case the shots deliberately cause replication in your body of only one part of the virus, the spike protein. This is not identical to the broad immunity provided by natural infection because it can't be with this approach; if the entire virus was used you'd get the disease and it would be systemic in every case instead of localized to your upper respiratory tract. Further, unlike a killed virus vaccine that cannot replicate in your body at all these shots all cause production of the spike protein by your cells exactly as would an infection and that production is systemic since it is given by injection and thus circulates through the body.

The safety of this approach is unproved and in fact the rate of deaths closely associated with these vaccines is wildly higher than that associated with any of the other routinely given vaccinations including flu and chicken pox. The intermediate and longer-term effects of this approach including the possibility of long-term or even permanent damage as a result of systemically hijacking your cellular metabolism to produce that foreign protein are unknown.

Unlike a mask you can remove you cannot un-take a shot and the litany of those previous lies killed over 400,000 Americans who otherwise would not have died.

What if their statements are false this time, specifically on safety? What if viral evasion shows up as did during early trials for a SARS vaccine in animals, trials that were abandoned and not performed for these preparations? It typically takes ten years to know if a candidate vaccine produces unacceptable side effects including lifetime disability due to immune dysfunction, never mind exactly how effective it is and for how long. Further, the media and these people continually claim that nobody has been killed by these vaccines yet VARES, the CDC's own reporting data which is public, shows roughly two thousand associated deaths. The number of associated deaths with the annual flu shot from last year's flu vaccination which shipped roughly 170 million doses, was twenty-six.

That means the Covid-19 shots are associated thus far with roughly seventy five times (7,500%) as many deaths as last year's entire set of flu vaccines! Remember that we give flu vaccines to old and morbid people just like the first priority for Covid-19 vaccines, so these should produce similar "associated" rates of bad events if they are similarly safe.

VARES reporting is voluntary and thus always under-reports vaccine-associated events. Association does not establish causation but a pattern of 75 times as many deaths as are associated with another commonly-given vaccine in the same population group damn well ought to raise anyone's eyebrows; to claim that such does not represent a "safety signal" is a flat-out lie.

I remind you that the false statements of alleged facts outnumber, by a wild margin, the true ones particularly when it comes to things you were told to do that "would work" to stem the spread of this virus. Every single one of those claims has been proved false over time.

In short you're now being exhorted to believe a cadre of people and government agencies who are proved repeated liars and to trust them with your life after their previous lies killed your mother.

The facts are that Covid-19 basically burned itself out before the first shot went in the first arm and that none of the mitigating factors prevented net deaths from occurring; in fact all these mitigations, from mask orders to lockdowns to closing businesses and others caused more deaths due to ODs, suicides, avoidable heart attacks and strokes not screened for and other maladies by a wide factor than the mitigations, even using fatally flawed claims taken on faith by these very same agencies, could have possibly saved. The actions we could have taken to actually reduce death, specifically as regards care home and other medical facilities we deliberately refused to do and we knew those actions would save lives. Instead of protecting the most-vulnerable while those least-likely to be seriously harmed were naturally infected and built a wall of population immunity we deliberately refused to protect those older and sicker people from infection via the health care system and they died.

Given this record of falsehoods, actions and intentional refusals to act you're willing to bet your life they're telling the truth this time?

Even without full testing there may be reason for certain people to accept the vaccine, particularly those at specifically-high risk who have not had the virus. However, on the data if you are not specifically morbid in known ways the risk of death from Covid-19, by the CDC's own data along with that of the NY coroner, is approximately 3/100,000. From the associated deaths in the CDC's own VARES system it appears the vaccines are approximately as dangerous to materially more dangerous than the disease in non-morbid individuals and that is without having any data on intermediate and longer-term effects which can only add to those risks. Further, if you've already been infected with Covid-19 you already have broad immunity and there is zero scientific evidence that vaccination can be of any value to you whatsoever.

When do we stop allowing people like Fauci, the CDC, Joe Biden, Donald Trump and Governors along with various health departments to lie through their teeth about virtually everything related to this virus?

Is not your dead Grandmother enough reason to put a stop to this horse**** -- and all who support it?

Original article has hyperlinks. Link: https://market-ticker.org/akcs-www?post=241875

#karl denninger #sars-cov-2 #global pandemic of stupidity

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a-woman-apart · 4 years ago

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Separating the Boys from the Men

Yes, that title is click bait, and if you keep reading, you’ve been warned. I’ve got a lot to get off my chest, and it’s going to involve defending masculinity, femininity, and our right to BEHAVE LIKE CHILDREN FOR THE REST OF OUR LIVES because in many ways, we already do.

Let’s get straight to the point. As Millennials, regardless of our age, financial status, or level of “success” (air quotes 100% intentional) we have been accused of being lazy, entitled, and way too enthusiastic about avocado toast. At the same time, we have been described as having enough power to decimate the napkin industry, the diamond industry, and the concept of traditional marriage. We have been accused of a collective “Peter Pan” syndrome, because we “refuse” to cut off papa’s apron strings and get off the proverbial mama’s teats.

Wonderful to know.

Let’s unpack the “lazy” bit. Supposedly, this is tied to the fact that we have access to higher education, we [often, not always] have parents who financially support or house us well into adulthood.

So now, my question is, Gen X (the entitled ones, ironically) and Salty Boomers, YOU DIDN’T?

What do you call that “inheritance” you received? What do you call that education your parents paid for that was less than 1/3 what we have to pay? For Boomers, how do you explain the lavish weddings, cheap [and apparently nuke proof] home appliances, and “nights out on the town” that you were able to afford by working at whatever passed for a McDonald’s back in the day? Working on a farm, at a grocery store, or in retail used to ACTUALLY provide a livable wage; for us, those are a “side hustle” and we still have to get a “big boy job” that usually requires an education that can put us over $100,000 in debt by age 30.

Hate to say it, but if you hadn’t made most of your income “during the War” or in the absolute economic boom that followed it, you wouldn’t survive 24 hours in our shoes before having an emotional collapse.

Despite the disastrous living conditions of the U.S. in the 21st Century, not much has changed in how men define their level of “manliness.”

Financial gains (stocks, bonds, portfolio, bank account)

Bro “gains” (a.k.a. “gym gains”, how “Gaston” they are, including whether they want to go for the Adonis, Apollo, or Brawny boi look, or just how far they can throw something or how “boyish” they look if strength isn’t an option and they suffer from femme-levels of body dysmorphia)

Body count (since we’re in a time of peace and not literally war, this is LITERALLY a modern term describing how many people you’ve slept with, and I have never heard an adult man, regardless of sexual orientation, who isn’t a little concerned about putting those notches in the bed post, and if not that, VERY concerned about his bedroom performance: it’s quality vs. quantity)

Kill death Ratio (I know this is a video game term now, but did you know that before video games, men in England used to regularly get on horseback, get a bunch of hounds together, and chase down tiny foxes and rabbits? FOR FUN?!?!? Did you know, that before modern sports ((including Esports)), men used to just fight to the death, regularly, even if an official war wasn’t going on? It was known as “dueling”, and in less socially developed societies, men still behave like this. So the next time you complain about “male rage” and how heartless it is to make live chickens fight, note that even though we’ve quelled male anger and hostility on some level, you will NEVER be able to take away man’s urge to destroy. Boys and men will always like knocking things over, building things from the rubble, and ruling shit. It’s what they do-- and we women can and do, too, but we have a LOT more risk-aversion and self-preservation, which is a blessing and a curse for our species-- but we just need to make sure humanity as a whole stays...chill)

So what, say ye, has changed about how WOMEN define themselves now vs. in the past. I would say that very little has changed, but the level of internalized misogyny, insecurity, and good-old fashioned denial has SKYROCKETED.

Let’s look at some terms of how the majority of women value themselves.

Financial Security (few women will admit to “wanting to be rich”, because that sounds kind of “Trump”, but plenty will talk about having minimum income requirements for their partner(s), wanting to retire at a young age so they can “travel the world”, wanting to eliminate their debts, etc. It’s different language but essentially it translates to: I want to work so hard or marry into so much wealth that I never want to worry about money after age 35. #Hustle)

Looks (it doesn’t matter if you want a Kardashian butt, you’re in the body positivity movement, or you just want to “dress like a bawse” women are just as obsessed with clothes, image, and body weight/shape/size as they ever were, it is just that now that we’ve “slain the patriarchy” we have more fashion options than ever before, because “boy clothes” are just as “in” as femme ones)

Ability to attract a partner (some women, like me, “chase”, but thanks to biology, most women, regardless of sexual orientation, seem to enjoy being pursued more than being Artemis-style hunters. This is evidenced by the fact that when the feminist owner of Bumble changed the rules of the dating website to where women had to start conversations with men rather than vice versa ((a move that had ostensibly zero effect on lesbian matching)) 72% of women that she later surveyed stated that they liked it better when men were approaching them rather than the other way around. I am sure Bumble’s female CEO was shook ((as was I)), especially because she made the change to empower women, and apparently 72% of women didn’t want the power because it meant they now had the power to face rejection, and it made them uncomfortable. Big yikes. So much for #EndPatriarchy and #ChivalryisDead ?)

Playing house (this is probably going to get me some unfollows, but I’ll take my chances. Women, regardless of sexual orientation, often seem to be REALLY into having babies or just “playing house.” There’s also men like this, too, “Family men” as they’re aptly called, men in love with fatherhood ((or just being called “daddy”, and that will never not be weird)). So many women who never want to pop out a baby describe being taken by an OVERWHELMING urge to fuck during their “fertile window” ((or is that just me?)) and seeing every baby alive as the cutest human being ever once we pass the tender age of 25. The biological clock is REAL, and I learned the hard way that being bisexual and having immense fear of pregnancy and childbirth didn’t spare me from the awful truth of my biology.

I really don’t want to keep making references to modern video games, but they seem to serve the dual purpose of being deeply satisfying and helping us to quell “problematic” urges, including that one to dominate and destroy the world. For a lot of women gamers, though, our choices ((on a broad scale, every #girlgamer is different)) deviate from men’s in some interesting ways.

#1: We still love The Sims Franchise way more than guys do

Not only do we love it, but while a lot of men (again, #notallmen) tend to build elaborate neighborhoods to extensively mod and destroy them in terrifying ways, I still see women gamers taking obscene amounts of time to design homes, raise happy little families, and cause TERRIFYING blood feuds by having Sims marry Sims from rival families ((I guess we’re more Shakespeare than we thought, eh ladies?))

#2: We make up most of mobile gaming

Most male gamers think mobile games “aren’t real” and I tend to agree, but a mobile game is invaluable for when I, a woman, have time to kill between the 3 jobs I hypothetically have and I and don’t want to whip out something like a Nintendo 2DS that is both unwieldly and attracts the eyes of every impoverished, thieving human being in a .5 mile radius. #RiskAversion. These games are often low-quality, mindless, and insanely easy, but that is WHY WE LIKE THEM. Our entire life is a job. #Hustle

#3 We also love farming sims and RPGs

While we-- and most male Millennials-- beg god to not have to birth calves, milk cows, or labor in the tomato fields under the hot sun, most of us have no objection to having our virtual avatars perform the same back-breaking tasks to the tune of cheerful chiptune music. Also, even though men definitely enjoy them, too, I have never met a woman gamer who didn’t enjoy a nice RPG; why do you think we’re such avid readers of fantasy/romance YA?

We want to be transported to a different world, and if you won’t take us there, we’re happy to go there virtually ((because we probably can’t afford travel; we’re still millennials)).

Ability to murder people who threaten our young or our partner(s) (Okay this one is a bit more complicated, but I’m just going to tell you a bit about female animals. DON’T MESS WITH THEIR BABIES IF YOU WANT TO LIVE. Human females, are, in that regard, just as savage, if not more so, than our male counterparts.

I’ve never heard of any woman ((outside of prison, maybe)) who killed another woman for “looking at her weird” or saying “your mama” too many times. I’ve heard plenty of women threaten literal murder because another woman ((or man, we’re #progressive)) came too close to her romantic/sexual partner, or another human being threatened harm on our kids or our “squad.”

I don’t know where the meme truly originated from, but “Don’t talk to me or my son ever again” is SUCH a Mom thing to say. So much misandry is wrapped up in the idea that men are predators, and that is true, but not in the excessively sexually deviant ways you think ((that’s only sometimes true)). They just like hunting things, including people, but if you give them a toy to play with ((I MEAN ACTUAL TOY OMG)) they seem alright. Let them go play with their cars, Xbox, [insert whatever] or something. They’re men, okay, they’re easily distracted/impressed/occupied.

Women, on the other hand, have seemed to be having an EXTREME amount of trouble curbing that baby-making urge, or the Excessive Nurturing Urge, that one that makes you ask your grown husband if he’s remembered to pack lunch for work or if he remembered to pack money for his playdate with his bros, because he’s gonna need money at Six Flags and you aren’t going to bring it to him because he should’ve remembered, you reminded him 30093390 times.

THAT’S NOT HIS FAULT. HE HAS MANAGED BY SOME MIRACLE TO STAY ALIVE FOR 33 YEARS. THAT’S YOU, SWEETIE. STOP BEING SUCH A MOM. GO BE A NURSE, DOCTOR, OR SOCIAL WORKER OR SOMETHING OMG.

In summary...

What separates the “men from the boys” or the “women from the girls” isn’t the era that we were born in to, our economic status, or whether we’ve been able to “conquer” our biology. That’s definitely not possible yet, chiefly because transhumanism involves a lengthy, ethics-guided process, and even if we all turn into cyborgs, the goal is to become BETTER humans, not LESS humane. Societal advancements have done more in terms of making us healthier, less destructive citizens of planet earth than raw technology ever can and ever will. Rapid technological advancement, when not combined with respect for morality, ethical standards of living for humans and all other life forms, almost always leads to human slavery, widespread abuse of animals, sex trafficking, and environmental destruction, because the “rules of supply and demand”, when not governed by strong international trade laws, dictate that consumers should be supplied with whatever they demand, because the suppliers can profit, and their right to profit should be defended at any cost.

So, in summary, I believe that “adulting” involves giving up on entitlement. What separates a truly childish human being-- regardless of their actual age-- from someone who is, in essence, “adulting” is experience, and how much those experiences serve to broaden that person’s perspective. It is an extremely childish, self-centered view, to think that you “deserve” anything for being “a good person” or, in the case of many a “woman child” or “man child” in media and in real life, just being “not so bad.”

Grown-ups are able and willing to do something that is known as “delaying gratification” which is the simple ability to delay a temporary pleasure for a long-term gain. Grown-ups are also able to perform true “cost-benefit analyses” to determine if a course of action, business deal, or even relationship is worth their time and effort. Finally, grown-ups are able and willing and able to make an informed choice and stick to it; in essence, we don’t try to “have our cake and eat it too” we understand that once we’ve eaten that cake, the cake is gone, but we also realize that if we are willing to work hard and make sacrifices, we can earn the ingredients to make ourselves another cake to eat, even if we might need a lot of help from other adults in getting those ingredients (we call this teamwork and cooperation).

Children, on the other hand (in literal and metaphorical terms), are very impatient. They get angry when things don’t go their way, and instead of taking the steps needed to improve their situation, they storm off and return home. It doesn’t matter if their home is with their parents, with their 3 roommates, or with their husband or wife, these people throw tantrums, refuse to communicate/cooperate, and stew in their displeasure until someone feels sorry for them and fixes their problem for them. They lack the ability to work through daily life problems and refuse to take any responsibility for how their actions or inaction contributed to their dilemma.

There is one difference with an actual human child or teen, though, is that they have an excuse. Their brains are still developing, and they haven’t had the chance to live through these situations yet; these are new challenges to them. Even if they do have a “bad attitude”, with help from peers and patients, principled adult mentors and teachers, these cantankerous kids can grow into well-adjusted, able adults. The high levels of neuroplasticity in their brains actually make it so that it is easier for them to accept large amounts of sensory data and to learn from processing and practicing using it.

An “adult child” is someone who, more often than not, has been coddled instead of challenged. These people have often faced no significant hardships in life. There is a reason why, even after we have recognized the immense downsides of authoritarian parenting and have demonstrated psychological harms of corporal punishment for kids, we still call “bad kids” and “irresponsible adults” spoiled.

Authoritarianism produces rigid, scared people who often struggle with critical thinking and self-esteem or end up being authoritarian parents themselves, but that last one is actually one of the less likely options. Children of authoritarian parents often develop Borderline Personality Disorder or become defiant against authority (shocker). Overly permissive or overly neglectful parenting, though, are parental styles most associated with producing narcissists, who often become authoritarian parents, because when their kids challenge them, they completely lack the patience or emotional capacity to deal with it and resort to “because I said so”, stonewalling and/or physical abuse as forms of “character-building.”

The reason why overly permissive parents spoil their kids is because kids actually do need discipline and guidance, and so these kinds of parents produce kids who are outwardly capable and confident but completely lack any of the life skills to justify it, and when they ask their parents for advice they are just met with a bunch of hippie mumbo jumbo or told to just avoid the conflict rather than resolve it. These kids grow into adults who are still sad little kids inside, because they never grew up, but now they’re sad little kids who are articulate and well-spoken and now can-- and often have no choice-- but to con their way through adult life because they’ve maxed out Charisma and they have almost no points in Strength, Intelligence, Wisdom, or Dexterity.

The only parenting style worse than Authoritarian and Neglectful/Permissive is Mixed, in which a child grows up in a COMPLETELY unpredictable environment where the rules of the game change from day to day, and parents either give their children no attention at all, or they practically lock them up and throw away the key. Being raised like this is associated with the worse outcomes for the child throughout life.

So, why am I now talking about parenting styles? Because, for all that we love to trash Boomers and large swaths of Gen X on this page, we can’t forget where they came from, so we cannot allow them to forget WHO THEY MADE. It isn’t an accident that even though we live in the times of incredible economic hardship, WE are the generation (and Gen Z, to some extent) that got hooked on reality TV, video games, and social media in incredibly unhealthy ways. A lot of us 30+ millennials are growing out of it, and a lot of us have realized that it is an invaluable (and damn near unavoidable) way of marketing our products and talents. We’re often self-employed because that’s our only option in most cases.

The issue with Gen Z (who, while we called “Zoomers” now just all themselves “Doomers” and I think we should be a bit concerned about that) is that unlike us, they have no memory of “Before the Internet.” We remember dial up, we remember before that when you played outside untl the sun went down. They don’t have the privilege of being linked to that history.

Now, we have to be the Bigger Person. It’s our time to be Grown-Ups. Gen Z feels really fucking lost right now, and hearing us whine about our parents probably makes them pretty pissed off, when some of us older millennials are the parents, aunts/uncles, and older siblings to Gen Z kids. Even if we can’t be mentors, we have to lead by example, because we have a responsibility to these kids. A lot of them aren’t stupid, they see exactly what’s happening and they feel incredibly hopeless about it. Greta Thunberg is still 16 years old. She shouldn’t be out there doing that; I mean seriously, climate change is accelerating, but it isn’t even as bad as Al Gore said, it’s still reversible, but the fact that SHE FELT SHE HAD TO makes us shitty people. ALL OF US.

So you know, we all need to stop being hypocrites. We need to stop being entitled. We need to stop thinking this is about us. It isn’t. Not even close. We’re not important, even if our videos go viral or if we’re swimming in cash next to hot models by a huge swimming pool. America’s fucked up. I hate to sound Republican, but it’s because of our values. We suck at valuing what’s important, and if we don’t change that soon, it’s really going to suck to live in America.

It already does.

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bluepenguinstories · 4 years ago

Text

Remoras Full Chapter XXII: Wendy City

As I sat outside with a few friends at the break of dawn, my mind kept returning to just last night. That scene couldn’t be shaken away and while those folks conversed with pudding cups and oranges in hand, I mulled over that lady’s words.

“Rhea? Is that you?” She asked.

“Rheain’t,” I should’ve replied with. Rather than such a statement as, “now that’s a name I haven’t heard in years.” God damn, could I have been any more ambiguous? Sure, it made sense to me at the time, but I probably gave my would-be bounty hunter the wrong impression.

Now that I thought of it, we were similar in stature and I suppose (although it was a bit of a stretch) that in the dark, my purple hair could have been mistaken for her blue. Still...the implications of being mistaken for such a person left me just a little unsettled.

Pensive, I fixed my gaze on the space between the four of us, then allowed a smile to form.

“Last night I ran into someone who mistook me for an old co-worker of mine,” I announced to the group.

My arms were crossed and I glanced around now and took note of the food in each person’s hand; Otis, with his thick red mittens which held a queen sized candy bar. Gloria, frail and heavy in perfume (who knows how she got hold of such a thing) shook her hands as she spooned pudding into her mouth. Bernard, whose brown and balding hair matched his brown leather clothing, all full of holes. He held an orange in his hand. All the while, my stomach growled.

“You had a job?” Bernard grunted in disbelief.

“Yes, I had a job. Why is that so hard to believe?” I protested. “In fact, it was a little over a couple years ago that I was laid off. Well, all of us were laid off. The company is no more. Just like that office building beside us. Whatever occupied it once doesn’t occupy it now.”

In some respects, good riddance. In others, good grief.

“What kind of job was it?” Gloria, now interested, set down her pudding cup and asked. Bless her frail heart.

Now what can I tell them to make it palatable?

“We were housekeepers, of sorts,” was the answer I came up with.

“What, like you cleaned houses?” Bernard again.

I put my elbow over my knee, palm on my forehead, and shook my head.

“We cleaned...messes. Going from place to place, each of us with our little jobs. Some of us were really good at getting rid of things, while others, it was more about tidying up or moving things around. Brooms, mops, sprays, vacuums, feather dusters. You name it. Everyone had their specialty.”

In truth, our organization never had a name. Those who knew of us outside of the organization would call us ‘janitors’. Then again, some of us did as well. That, or something like it. Custodians, waste disposal, cleaners, plumbers, renovators, whatever. To think that it all stemmed from a joke we all passed around about how we ‘cleaned up after others’ messes’. Then again, how many messes did we clean up and how many did we make?

“You know, back in the day there used to be a term for mafia hitmen. ‘Guy who paints houses’. Were you something like that?” Otis at last gave some input, and I wondered where he heard that bit of trivia. He couldn’t have been much older than twenty.

“No, nothing like that,” I chuckled. “Get that idea out of your head.”

Because it’s too close to the truth for comfort.

“Anyway, about this old co-worker of mine…” I began, but I was no storyteller; I could spend the rest of my bloody life reminiscing, but that didn’t mean I could give a recollection worth a damn. Yet I tried. Important or not, the need to tell these strangers I’ve shared light meals with tugged at me. “What you have to understand is that many of us shared a bond together. Despite the fact we’d always have our jobs at different places from one another and although sometimes we’d be asked to work as a group or paired together, more often than not, we were off doing our own thing. But we still got together, whether it be at taverns, or the…” headquarters. “Office.”

I paused. Not for effect. Not for feedback. But for the simple fact that I wasn’t sure what name to give this mystery co-worker.

“So if you think of us like a grade school classroom, this co-worker, let’s call her Rhonda. Rhonda…Civic. Yeah, that works. Anyway, Rhonda would’ve been the quiet kid in the back. She kept to herself, didn’t really interact with anyone, and had a few quirks. Some odd ways of speaking. Feeling. Others picked up on it, and of course, like a grade school, she’d get teased. Others would talk about her behind her back,” kinda what I’m doing now, except how else am I supposed to talk about someone who’s no longer around?

“I’ve had situations like that,” Bernard grunted as he gave his input. “I used to operate a forklift for a pet food company. Me an’ the boys would shoot the shit when the manager wasn’t watchin’. Most of us, ‘nyway. There was this youngish guy, flannel shirt and overalls. Same attire every day. Didn’t know how he got away wit’ it, but that’s what he wore. He moved bag after bag of dog food, but never once so much as said hi. Not a peep from the kid. We all thought it was weird. Anyway, he quit one day, we never found out why, and that was that. I didn’t even think much of him ‘til you mentioned somethin’.”

“Yeah, it was the same for me,” I replied, and I looked up at the clouds in the sky. “Funny that, I didn’t think much of her back when I worked for that company and now out of the blue someone mistook me for her and it was like, ‘oh yeah…’”

“What about you, Wendy? You’re always off on your own at night, going at it with your projects,” he countered.

“We all have our eccentricities,” I concurred. “I’m also not much for conversation, either, most of the time, but I still enjoy the company of others. If for nothing else than the spectacle.”

It was far too early in the morning, but how I wished to have a warm cup of tea or sake in my hands so I could take little sips as I spoke.

“I never thought anyone outside of the company ever knew her, be it an old friend or an old enemy,” I carried on, unsure if I had any conclusion to this or if it was just early morning rambling.

“What? You think she had enemies?” Otis spat and I could swear that bits of chocolate just flew right by me.

“That’s the thing: I don’t know. There wasn’t really anything I knew about her apart from I heard. Sure, I watched her a few times, but that didn’t tell me much. Whether she had friends or enemies, I could never tell. When I think back on it, I wish I did know. That I had tried to find out more. But it’s kind of that whole ‘you don’t know what you got ‘til it’s gone’ type of thing. Then again, here she is gone, and I still don’t know what to make of it.”

“Gone?” Gloria must have taken notice of my choice of words. For the record, I didn’t know what became of her. Not any more than I knew what became of the rest of the people I once associated with. Considering that I couldn’t go back to the headquarters (not that I had any desire to return), I had to assume they were all dead and that the place was no more. It made the most sense to me.

“Yeah. Terminated. It’s funny that way, how to them we were all replaceable and they had no problem exploiting us, but even that couldn’t save them.”

“Damn if I don’t know that,” Otis bemoaned. “I have a nephew, and my nephew has a friend who was working when a sign fell on him. Broke his leg. Next thing he knew, management fired him, worker’s comp didn’t cover for his injury, and when he tried to sue, the company’s lawyers blocked him. Then, I knew this other guy who did what he was supposed to. But he got paid scraps and the stress got to him, so one day he came to work all hopped up on coke and his boss fired him on the spot. All those days of doing what he was told and scraping by, and one day was all it took for it to come crashing down. He ended up killing himself some time after that,” after those last words came a sniffle. No tears, though. Maybe it was a runny nose.

I shook my head. Sympathy and grief was a difficult thing to muster given the life I had; countless moments of killing and watching others die. Those I worked with, laughed and shared drinks with, gone at any moment. It wasn’t a case of ‘kill or be killed’, but it was a life defined by the death of others, all the same. So what I felt when Otis relayed his tales of people he knew, all I could feel was hatred and disgust. If I knew their bosses, I would have killed them on the spot.

“You okay, Wendy?” Otis’ voice of concern broke through my thoughts. How I must have stared with that same pensive look I often did when lost in thought.

“It’s just not right, though, is it?” I glanced from person to person as I asked, my question rhetorical in nature. They all shook their heads and murmured, “no” or “not at all”.

Then Bernard waved his hand away and grumbled.

“Bah! Right, wrong, who gives a damn? I’m still alive,” he retorted, then turned to his back and laid himself down over sheets of newspaper.

That was a point I was willing to consider. To some, there was a profound difference between ‘alive’ and ‘survive’, but really, he was no less alive than someone with the privilege of a roof over their head and a bed to sleep in. Food in the pantry and some form of stability. Such things were all an illusion, anyway. People get busy, food goes bad. Bills pile up, costs increase, wage stays the same. To compensate, work extra hours, sleep less. Everything comes at a price few can afford and the compromises are seldom in one’s favor. Locked into a system in which the average person is always just on the verge of homelessness, yet the state of being homeless itself was punished.

Once I had asked Bernard, “if you were given a home, would you take it?” Based on that premise some other minds had, that people such as Bernard only lived that way because they wanted to. That it’s ‘on them’ or whatever. His response? Something like, “show me something that won’t be taken from me, otherwise don’t waste my time.”

That may have sounded like, “I’m here because I want to,” but at least to me, the difference couldn’t have been any more clear.

But enough rants. I stretched my arms out and yawned, then smiled a cheeky grin.

“Well, you know what they say, duty calls,” I announced as I got up. “Time for me to go digging for cash and get myself a bite to eat.”

That was how I went about most of my day: I’d get up, chat with a few folks around the docks, walk around the city ‘til I got a bit of cash, spend it on deep dish pizza and cheap beer (the staple of Chicago), then head back to the docks, bathe in the lake water, and resume my work in the office building. One of those days I’d have working lights, and then I could get to work on giving those folks a more comfortable place to sleep at night. Something like a home. Although it was unfortunate to think that in the eyes of the law, they’d still be considered homeless. Even the most idealistic of endeavors could result in a losing battle.

Whatever actions I might have to take in the future, I focused on the agenda for the day. It was during the day in which I was neither a rumor nor a killer. Daylight meant that I was just a person. Hell, at times a superhero; case in point, an old lady gave me a few bucks after I got her cat out of a tree (yes, as cliché as it was, such a thing happened quite often). Soon after that, I headed down to Cosmo Corner (a popular downtown tavern).

It was about noon now and my favorite bartender would be in soon: Wanda. Nice young lady, all covered in tattoos. At least a dozen on each arm, when I first met her I thought she was part of a crime ring or in a street gang, but nah. Apparently on the side, she liked to paint in her studio, but that was as hardcore as she got. Oh, well, being a bartender could be hardcore too. Not everyone can handle being a bartender.

Right now it was Stickbug (no, I don’t know why he was called that, but everyone called him that. Maybe that’s just his name). Fitness guru with a pencil thin mustache who was disastrous at mixing drinks. But amiable, I’d give him that. None of the conversations he’d strike up were ever ones I was interested in having, but he didn’t have a mean word to say about anyone. Maybe that was the problem: you had to have boundaries. You couldn’t show everyone the same level of sympathy.

“Say Wendy, have you heard of the fall of Constantinople?” Stickbug asked whilst he flung glass after glass in the air and began juggling them. Upon a quick glance, I noticed that there weren’t many people at the moment. Fine enough. I guess no one would give him dirty looks. As for me, I let my head fall onto the counter, the effects of my lack of sleep setting in.

“No, I haven’t,” I replied.

“D’ya wanna hear about it?” He continued to ask, and I already knew how insistent he could be with his topics.

“No,” I told him, to no avail.

“Okay, so we’ve got this city named Istanbul and…” he began, but it didn’t take long for my thoughts to drown out anything else he said.

Why couldn’t I have come in just a little bit later? No, it’s not bad. I could learn things if I listen, I’m just not in the mood to do so. I just want to eat and drink and...oh. Oh my. This must be what Rhea had to deal with all the time...wanting to order food, but never wanting to socialize. Not to mention how anxious she seemed to be in any situation that didn’t have to do with violence. Girl could kick ass but had trouble ordering a sandwich at a sub shop. Not to mention the general bodily discomfort she apparently dealt with.

‘I, and I cannot stressed this enough, am stressed’ I imagine she must have said at one point or another. Seemed to fit, anyway. That, or ‘I, and I cannot stress this enough, need a sweater’ or a blanket. Ugh. Why am I thinking of some weirdo who had such a minuscule presence in my life? Could it have to do with that woman last night? Yeah, probably. Well, a name’s a name. It could have been anyone named ‘Rhea’. Hell, the one I’m thinking of used a different name for each person she met, so I doubt anyone would know her by that name. Probably something else instead, like Sharpay D. Em.

Anyway, I ought to be thinking of more important things. Like the fact that the woman last night wanted to kill me. First of all, couldn’t she have waited? I was busy and I don’t really like being interrupted from my work. All I’m asking for is some fair warning and furthermore –

“...And that is why if you suspect you have a mouse in your home, you should leave a piece of cheese on the floor overnight,” Stickbug seemed to have concluded his little history lesson, except I must have missed many steps, because I wasn’t really sure how we got there.

“Wait, what?” I lifted my head and asked with a dull expression planted on my face.

“Want me to start all over?” He beamed, and I’m sure he could have talked all day and night if someone let him.

“How about later? Isn’t your shift over soon?” I reminded him with a slight sense of pride.

“Oh yeah! You’re right! So glad I got someone to remind me! Otherwise I’d be here all day!”

And nobody wants that. Hell, I don’t even think you’d want that.

“Before you go, I may as well order, seeing as I haven’t done that yet.”

“Oh no!” He gasped. “I hope you haven’t been hungry!”

Funny to think that his concern is real and not sarcasm.

“In fact, I am hungry right now,” I corrected him. “By the way, I’ll get my usual: pepperoni and spinach, large.”

“Right on!” I handed him the cash I had gotten from that old lady earlier. I still had some left over for sake, but I wanted to wait until Wanda got in.

I wonder what kind of food that woman from last night likes to eat. I feel like she’d eat chicken legs and large chunks of steaks. Just, a lot of steak. You know, why am I wondering such a thing? I’ve got better things to think about.

About five minutes later and a glass of water downed, Stickbug waved goodbye. In his place came Wanda with a bandanna over her head and covered in sweat which ran down her face.

“Intense painting session?” I asked.

She wiped her forehead and huffed.

“You know it. Were you waiting for me?”

“Heh,” I flashed her a smile. “It’s just not the same with Stickbug.” Really, how did that name come about? I think he said his name was Steven once, but I’ll be damned if I can remember.

“Is that so?” She asked, then went to the back to put her stuff away and get settled in. About the same time she came back out, the pizza arrived as well.

I took a heaping slice as layer upon layer of cheese and bits of spinach fell off of the pizza and back down onto the plate, unable to sustain itself on the thick cake of dough. Upon taking a large bite, my mouth was filled with the warm and gooey taste along with the combination of squishy spinach and savory pepperoni. One strong gulp later, and I was ready to take a drink. Next to me was my cup of sake, and when I looked up, Wanda winked.

“By the way, someone came in last night asking about any abandoned buildings,” Wanda mentioned as I sipped my cup of sake.

“Oh yeah?” I hummed, which came out more like a “mm-hmm.”

“Yeah. I just told her about the office building you’ve been hanging out in.”

I spat out my drink. Some might have gotten on her apron, but that was her problem, not mine.

“What did you do that for?! I don’t want people coming in and interrupting me while I’m working!”

Then I thought it over.

“Say, what did she look like?”

She put her finger on her chin and looked up.

“Hmm...big and muscular, brown poofy hair.”

Ugh. Yeah.

“Oh yeah. She came by and visited. Tried to kill me,” I replied, almost nonchalant about the whole ordeal, despite how much it had been on my mind.

“What? Are you serious?” She balked.

I shrugged and took another bite of my pizza.

“Yeah, but she wasn’t hard to deal with or anything.”

My main concern was why she was there at all. It’s not that I never expected anyone to come after me, especially when I all but deserted my job. But when no one came, I just expected that I was free and I could live out my life as I pleased.

“Jeez, did you kill her?” She accused. Rather baseless, too.

“No,” I scoffed. “I just sent her back home. Don’t know why she went after me, either.”

“Look, Wendy, I know you’ve killed people. Can’t really say I didn’t see something like this coming.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong: I get why, I just don’t get why, y’know?”

She shook her head.

“It’s like, she said there was a request for my death. She didn’t even know who I was, she mistook me for someone else. What I don’t get is why, rather, how such a request came about. Like, someone knows about me, but is sending people who don’t know about me to do the job.”

“Well, do you know what the request says?”

“No,” I admitted.

“Then maybe whoever made it didn’t know who you were either, but noticed some things around the area.”

“Yeah, maybe.” It was all too possible I was overthinking things. But when it came to things like that, a fair deal of suspicion was necessary. “Whatever the case, if such a request like that is out there, then I doubt the person last night will be the only one.

“It’s kind of an open secret among the circle you talk to that you’re the one behind the murder of those cops. I don’t blame you, plenty of people around here don’t like the police and I really do wish you well, but most people don’t have the privilege to do what you do. Most people don’t have the ability to murder those they see as committing an injustice. Not only that, but most people don’t have confidantes that would be willing to keep their secret. You know why?”

Great. Just what I wanted while I was at the bar with some good food and drinks: a lecture.

“If you’re going to tell me because it’s illegal, I’m going to argue that it’s only illegal if you don’t have a badge and a uniform. Most serial killers are the ones who are hired by the state and demand your respect.”

Her face lowered and she turned from me.

“Yeah, I get it. I’m not saying I disagree, just that the average person isn’t capable of doing such things, even if they wanted to. Even if they ignored the legality, it doesn’t matter. Just as you said, you’ve got got hordes willing to kill whoever they see fit without consequence, decked in highly-militarized outfits and weapons. Their numbers are too great, their power is too great, and if you even show the least bit resistance, they’ll throw in the rest of the military alongside them. So the best most of us can ask for is to avoid them as much as possible. But here you go, picking off anyone who rubs you the wrong way and not only do you manage to sneak on by and keep going, but it’s like you boast about it, too.”

“I don’t boast – I never said I enjoy it.”

“No, that’s not what I mean, sorry.”

“But you’re right: I am very fortunate. In the past, I’ve evaded my demise and have slaughtered entire armies that wished to pursue me. I’m not saying that to boast, though it is quite a feat, I admit. I’ve had a long life, a storied and bloody past, and I really wish I could stay out of trouble, but I just can’t seem to help myself. Old habits, I guess.”

“You’re not that old, are you? You don’t look much over thirty.”

I managed a chuckle.

“Would you believe me if I said I was well over five hundred years old?”

“Quit joking around.”

It’s not exactly wrong. I was born sometime early in the Sengoku period, but time travel sure does let you skip ahead a few years. There’s no way I could explain something like that, though.

“Let’s just say I’ve got a good skincare routine.”

That time, I was joking. There’s no way in hell that bathing in Lake Michigan would preserve your youth.

“Either way, I’m used to not sticking around places for very long. If things get too hot, I’ll leave town. So don’t worry about me,” I assured Wanda.

“I’d like it if it wouldn’t have to come to that,” she replied. “You’re a good customer, and make for good conversation.”

Well, I couldn’t say I wasn’t flattered, but hopefully she wouldn’t hold it against me if I did decide to ditch this place, reside elsewhere and try to lay low. Eventually I would have liked to settle down and be an old lady. Maybe knit sweaters in my spare time, or get a dog and a garden. Become the friendly old lady in the neighborhood that no one knows anything about.

None of that was likely. People like me weren’t meant to last long. As far as age went, I was already pushing it and as far as I knew, I really wasn’t much over thirty. It was just hard to tell where in my thirties, since my concept of time has been all screwed up.

I left the bar soon after. Despite my enjoyment of Wanda’s presence, my head just wasn’t as much in it as I thought it would be. So, still middle of the day, I returned to the docks, ready to get back to work.

I still don’t have the solution. Not enough power. Every time I think I’ve got a spark, it only lights one area. What I need is a lightning rod. Maybe I could stand one of my swords up to the roof to collect electricity. Or antennae. No. That still wouldn’t be enough, not without the right circuitry and places to send the electricity to. There’s more than one component and I can’t just do one without the other. If I’m lucky, there might be some generators downstairs I haven’t discovered. But even if I have to steal or build power generators, I want to give these places a semblance of a home. Some place to rest.

But even if I’m successful, it still wouldn’t be legal for them to reside there. What would I do, then? Fight off a whole force? Or would I run with the knowledge that I would be outnumbered? When I consider the eventual outcome, it was a futile effort and good intentions will only get me so far.

I shook my head as I entered the darkened building through an opening with a loose board. If that woman had been more attentive, she would have seen that not all of those boards were as well covered, and one of them actually served as a door.

Inside, an absence of light. I reached to my right and grabbed my helmet and katana which lay on top of a tall cabinet.

Upon placing the helmet on my head, I had a much clearer view of my surroundings. The infrared visor on my helmet allowed me to see in the dark, albeit some objects showed up blurry.

Outside, it was still light. Dusk wasn’t expected for another few hours. In other words, I had time. I could do my work in peace, take a little nap, not worry about anything. If no one was going to come after me until well after dark, then I could prepare.

So I did just that; I patrolled the area, climbed up each floor, checked out each room, then headed back down to the first floor. All around the first floor I searched for a hatch or a door, a flight of stairs, something that would lead to a basement. No such luck. It seemed that there were no passages, hidden or otherwise. No basement. No generators.

Maybe that’s what I’ll have to resort to. I’ll have to dig out a basement, fill it with concrete, get some generators built or setup...argh! Why is it so hard to get this going? I should just tell everyone, “sorry guys, I know I hate to make false promises, but looks like I just set my sights too high!”

I sunk down to the floor along a wall, right next to a door which would have led to someone’s office.

“Who am I kidding? It’ll be a miracle if I don’t leave before I get the chance to figure this out.”

I leaned my head over and soon felt the weight of the darkness creep up on me as it guided me to a gentle sleep.

When I awoke, I brought myself up to my feet and decided to climb up the many flight of stairs once more.

If I’m lucky, I’d like to at least get the elevator working. Something.

Short rests were all that were ever afforded to me. If I had gotten three hours or more, that was oversleep for me. With the way my body operated, perhaps adapted, I never worried myself with dreams. On the rare occasion where I had a dream, they were brief windows, photographs, still frames cascading down. Images of being beheaded. Of watching my head roll down into a river. Typical things like that. Such things weren’t memories, but just reminders of what should have been long ago.

Never mind. Several flights later, I saw the bits of collapsed roof on the floor. Above, the glow of the moon illuminated the floor. It was the only source of light I was afforded, save for the helmet.

So I see. It’s evening now.

“Damn, couldn’t she have found a different way in other than breaking down the roof? Now I’m going to have to repair that as well…”

If another came after me, I really hoped they wouldn’t drop down from the roof. That would make things too easy for me.

I’m going to consider that it’s still too early for something like that. Not that I have a watch or a phone, but I doubt it’s been night for very long. I just can’t imagine anyone attacking me until late into the night. Any time earlier and it would just be rude.

Just like the night before, I went down to where the top of the elevator was, along with the open panel in the wall. If I had to start somewhere, I figured I’d get done what I could. That was, if I could get anything done at all.

So as I crouched down and got to work, my helmet lifted as I did so. I struck a match and held it between my lips as I worked, plucking it out every now and then to help bind the wires together. There were two wires left with just a little bit of juice. I pulled out a pair of rubber gloves, then held the two wires together and rubbed them; as soon as there was a spark, I used the flame from the match to bind them together. Behind me, a couple rooms away, a light turned on.

Now let’s hope it stays on. Which reminds me: I need to get new light bulbs.

One day, if I ever got (or built) a generator and a basement to place it in, I would test the breaker board. It would be a beautiful sight if one day the whole building could light up. Even as it was, the light from the room remained and leaked out. I was impressed to see that it had stayed on.

Now if I flick the switch off, then on again, will it turn back on?

As I turned to work on the elevator, I was stopped in my place when I heard a thump in the distance. It could have been nothing. Those pipes were old, after all. The vents too.

But even if it was nothing, I had to check it out.

Down one flight of stairs, the sound of movement and creaks against the vents could be heard.

Could it be that I’ve got a guest?

That same sound continued in little spurts. Less noise, but still there. Unavoidable. I could tell, there was movement of some kind. Rat, pebble, raccoon, or a person. Further down the hallway, the sound grew closer, more pronounced. Little shimmies and brushes. Metallic clangs.

I stood in place as the sound seemed to be just above my head. I took off my helmet. No need for it.

“I know you’re up there,” I announced.

Silence. No more movement. Nothing.

Seconds went by. Still nothing.

Stillness passed through the air, and so I had no choice but to accept that I may have just been hearing the old building making noises.

I let out a heavy sigh. Defeat. So soon, too.

“Guess I was just hearing things. I’ll head back now.”

Still no sound of movement. How disappointing. I unsheathed my sword and flashed a toothy smile.

“...Just kidding,” I said before I plunged my katana into the vent and sliced the thing in half.

If there had been a person, or just a rat, surely they felt that.

As I did so, the noise of steel against steel, the grating being slashed apart couldn’t mask the undeniable sound of movement heading backward.

I held my katana up and dragged it against the ceiling as I walked toward the sound of someone retreating from within the vents.

Around the corner, I heard a drop, and the hard tap of a shoe against the floor.

So it was a person. And I missed. I really must be losing my touch.

As I approached, someone small and frail looking peeked out from the corner and threw a knife my way. I caught it between my fingertips and just as fast, threw it back. In a panic, the intruder let out a squeak and ducked back behind the corner, then picked up their knife and ran.

“Were you thinking you could kill me with that? Or were you planning on me blocking it, then running toward me with another knife, the thrown knife being a distraction?” My smile grew wider, almost a grin. It didn’t take much to know their strategy; too many times I’ve dealt with similar tactics. Smart, but amateurish.

Does this person really think they stand more of a chance than the person last night? Or are they just expecting to run around like this is some endurance test?

I wasn’t about to let them experience such a luxury. I ran after and watched as they almost got behind the door to an adjacent room, but before they could do so, I grabbed their wrist and held on tight. Once I pulled them forward, closer to me, it turned out the intruder was a young woman with wavy, green hair.

With my other hand, I raised my knife and readied myself to slice down against her arm.

She scowled, then with her free arm reached for my wrist to free herself. Before she could puncture me, I swung my blade down, at the same time let go of her wrist. Just in time, she jumped out of the way. I turned to make a quick slash, but she blocked it with her knife. Such a measly thing. All I had to do was push harder and it began to show little cracks.

She let go and jumped out of the way again.

“Nimble one, aren’t you?” I observed. Then she charged, but I moved out of the way. She tried to slash with her knife from the side, but I blocked it with my blade, then let go and kicked her to the floor.

Short on breath, she picked herself up. So far all of her efforts, while quick-witted, had been feeble at best.

“Let me ask you this: why do you want to kill me? Is there money involved?”

“I...I don’t want to kill you. That’s...that’s not why I came here,” she spoke, her voice rough, but high in pitch and she fixed her gaze on me as she tried to recover her breath.

“Then why?”

“I want to know who you are,” she answered.

That was such a ridiculous answer. But at least it was some kind of answer.

“I’m a serial killer,” I replied through my teeth. “I leave a trail of bodies in my wake. Sliced open, stabbed through the chest. Cut to ribbons. Does that answer your question?”

Her face turned to shock and she took a step back, but shook her head.

“No, I already knew that much from the request.”

“That again. The request to kill me, correct?”

She gave a nod.

“But I would rather not have to try. Not if you’re anything like who Sunny thought you were.”

“Sunny?”

“The one who tried to kill you last night and got herself beat real good. She thought you were –” I stopped her.

“Rhea?” I asked.

Another nod.

“What was so special about that name? There’s probably plenty of people in this city with that name.”

“Yes. And I looked up every single person with that name in Chicago. There were a lot more names than I thought, and not all of them were happy about receiving a phone call from a stranger.”

…

“Are you a dunce? Did you really?”

“Yes.”

I snorted. I couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of someone actually doing that. I sunk down to the wall and sat.

“Sit,” I commanded. “And if you try anything funny, I will kill you.”

Wordless, she crouched down and sat against the wall across from me.

“So what does that name mean to you?” I questioned.

“Nothing. But it means plenty to a few of the people around me. Rhea Flection, they call her. Apparently she was both feared and admired. Some people want her dead, or revenge on her, others just seem to wish they could see her in action. My cousin and her wife were apparently one of her targets. Someone I admire apparently worked in the same company as her. Says that she died. Yet all these other people keep bringing her up.”

Damn. That name. So it really was the same one that I knew.

“Heh,” I leaned my head back. Absurd as it was, I not only stopped the fight, but also let my guard down. “I wonder if I’ll have my own fan club as well when I die.”

“I take it to mean that you’re not her?” She asked, something which I would have thought was obvious.

“You mean that socially awkward iceberg? No. I’m not her.”

“Iceberg?” She tilted her head, which made me wonder just how much she actually knew.

“You’d have to have been there.”

“So I take it you knew her?”

“Yes. We worked in the same company. But that’s ancient history. For the record, I’m Wendy Day. You?”

“Demetria. What kind of name is that, by the way?”

“I picked it out because I wanted an English sounding name, and it sounds like ‘windy day’. Not very clever, I know. I used to be called Mizue Soyokaze, but I threw that name away long ago, along with the rest of my younger self.”

“Cool. Lore. Can I sit next to you?” She asked, rather sudden, too.

“Go ahead. But I’ll remind you not to get any ideas.”

She got up and as she approached me, she looked away, ashamed or uneasy.

“I probably should have tried to kill you, seeing as I don’t want you to go around killing people, but I was more focused on getting some kind of answers,” she said as she sat down. Then turned away from me. I took it to mean she was shy.

“You don’t want me to go around killing people?” I scoffed. “I don’t want me to go around killing people. I’ve tried to put this life behind me, not get myself into trouble, but then I see others do things that I just can’t abide by.”

“Like what?” She asked, and her voice quivered. If only I had dragged out the battle, maybe she would have shown more bravery.

“Sexual abusers, for starters, but that should be obvious. Then there’s people like landlords and debt collectors who couldn’t care less if they let others die in the name of money. Greedy fucks all around. Still, I can’t catch everyone out there, only the ones that I see. Even then, I try not to let my blood boil, not let it get to me. I try to sit by, abide by the law, but then I witness a child running around with a toy gun with his best friend playing some kind of game, like cops and robbers. Then an actual cop comes and shoots the kid dead, a cruel irony. Said cop walks off, no remorse or recourse, all the while that kid just wanted to play and now their life ended. That I can’t abide by.”

“Wow,” she mouthed.

“But, in case you start thinking I’m some savior, acting only in the name of justice, let me remind you that I’m a murderer and violence is what I know. If anything, I find excuses to take lives, not unlike some of the people I so despise. It’s not even so much a craving or an addiction, but I don’t think this world will ever grow kind, and neither will I.”

“But why did you ever start?”

“Because,” I began. I had to pause, and I thought to myself, wait. Am I really going to go through my life story with a stranger I assumed wanted to kill me? Fuck it. I’m doing this. “I’m all too familiar with authority abusing their power. Back in my old life, when I was young and still had a family, there was a high ranking member of society who was found dead, a puncture wound through their chest. I was blamed for it, an unassuming girl who stayed home all the time and helped out with her family. But once I was accused, that same family disowned me, regardless of whether or not I had actually committed such a thing.”

“Did you?”

“No. But that didn’t matter, I was just a commoner, so my word didn’t mean much, and there was less proof that I didn’t than proof that I did, even if either way was inconclusive. Regardless, I was set to be executed; beheaded, actually. Two men with swords beside me, one in front. All against my throat. However, I managed to fight back and steal the two men’s swords, then cut them all down. After that, I hid out in an abandoned shack. Later on, I found out who the real killer had been and killed him myself. After, I fled. That didn’t stop me from being pursued, but I cut anyone down who dared to try.”

“That’s kinda badass,” she commented. I had to stop her right there.

“No, just bad. My life should have ended that day, as the person I am now was the person I was once accused of being. But no matter how many close calls I’ve had, I’m still here, like some kind of cockroach.”

“And your company?” She asked, and I knew where her real focus was.

“They picked me up a few years back, though in my mind it was centuries ago. They told me that they could offer me protection, be paid to take out those who would abuse their authority. By then, I knew it was only a matter of time, with whole armadas after me. So I accepted.”

“I see.”

“Do you know what we did in that company?” I pondered.

“I get the gist of it. It’s unpleasant, but I can’t just fault everyone when I don’t know them.”

“Huh. Interesting answer.”

I stared down at my blade, then sheathed it. It had been a while, but not unheard of, since I just...sat next to a would-be victim and heard them out. I kind of missed it, as often when it did happen, I would end up sparing said person and coming to a better understanding of them.

“Say, back when you worked there, did you know of someone named Remora?” She asked again.

Remora...Remora...does that ring any bells? No, I don’t think it does.

“No, sorry,” I replied.

“Uh...shivers a lot, always cold, doesn’t understand people well. Looks kind of like you, except not really. I mean, your guys’ faces and hair is totally different.”

“Oh, you mean Rhea,” I corrected, as there was no other person I could think of who was like that.

“No, no. Her name’s Remora. She says she knew of Rhea, but was never in the same place as her.”

Hmm...that was a curious thing, all right.

“Sorry, but I don’t think there was anyone named Remora, but you definitely described Rhea. One time, we were all at the bar, and she ordered a screwdriver. So I watched as she sat alone at a table and she pulled out an actual screwdriver. I watched her lick the screw driver, make a disgusted face, then looked around to make sure no one saw her. But I saw everything.”

“Is there a difference in taste?” Demetria asked, and I really had to wonder how someone so dense could exist.

“That’s not the point. The point is that she may have been this serious person who wanted to be left alone, but she was also just a total oddball. Even her attempts to be serious could be odd sometimes. Like one time, she tried to do this verbal takedown on a guy named Douglas Fir by listing out all his negative traits in alphabetical order.”

“I don’t think I could do that, but then again sometimes I wonder if I’m dyslexic,” she replied. Again, not the point.

“Whatever the case may be, I didn’t really think of her that much at the time, other than a few notable occurrences, but looking back, I kinda miss her. Then again, I miss most everyone in that company. Save the really shitty ones, but that’s neither here nor there. I know we were all eccentric amoral people, but it was like a community to me, and it felt like the closest thing I had to a home at the time.”

Really, I could reminisce for days.

“There was this other woman, Aurora B, and I suppose her, Rhea, and I could’ve been a ‘dream team’ except if put in a group, one of us would have killed the other two rather fast, thus negating the need for a group. Aurora because she wouldn’t be able to get us all to cooperate, Rhea because she prefers to work alone and would probably use her teammates as bait, and I’d probably notice something about the both of them that wouldn’t sit right with me and decide they’re both scum. Still, the idea is fun.”

“Wait, Aurora B? There’s an Aurora B in the arctic! She’s got a train and a band of thieves! I stabbed her and she robbed the restaurant I worked at!”

I blinked, then burst into laughter.

“Oh, that’s wonderful! There’s a version of her in this timeline and I bet she’s still just as rowdy! Oh, that must be fun!”

“What? Version of? This timeline?” She seemed confused.

“Yeah, like, you know, time travel and all that. Multiple universes, multiple versions of the same person.” I was surprised she knew about the company and yet didn’t know about that.

“I never considered that…” she muttered, then got up. “I think I’ll take off now. Thank you for that.”

“What? Already?”

“Yeah, I’ll just say that you were too strong for me and leave it at that.”

“Well if that’s all you needed, you should’ve just come by in the daytime. We could’ve had a nice chat over pizza.”

She waved goodbye, as if I wasn’t some dangerous force of nature, and I continued to sit and shake my head.

“I must be getting soft. First I injured someone rather than killed them, then I let the second person just walk away unscathed, and we had a nice little chat. I’m betting the third person who comes by I’ll end up buying them a drink.”

I couldn’t help but imagine the insanity of it all. My howls and laughter echoed through the almost empty building.

Once I calmed myself down, I stared up at the ceiling. How I wished I could fix up the place. Now I had to fix up the vents as well. There was always one more problem.

“What about you?” I addressed my last guest of the evening. “Have you come to kill me or just to chat?”

In one of the nearby rooms, a door opened up. Soon a figure approached me, a long rifle in hand.

“I’ll be quick. I just wanted to confirm that you were who I thought you were,” replied a low, icy voice.

“What, did you stalk her? Were you listening in on the whole thing?” Whoever said guest was, I would have at least liked a knock or something.

“No to the first one. Yes to the second.”

Direct. I liked that, at least.

“So what about the gun? I take it you’re the only person so far who even stands a chance against me.”

“I’m hoping it won’t come to that.”

“Mm,” I mulled it over. “I see. So I take it you know who I am already, but that’s what bothers me. I don’t seem to know who you are.”

“Yes. I’m not sure if you ever saw me. I was never around at the same time she was. I couldn’t have been. For the most part, I was kept isolated from most everybody else. Not that I minded.”

“No, I suppose you wouldn’t have. So, why Remora?” I wondered. “You’ve got over a thousand different names, don’t you? Couldn’t you have started a new life with one of those?”

“It’s because...I met someone important to me the day I chose that name.”

I shrugged. “Who am I to judge? One time an old man decided to call me Trout. True story.”

It didn’t take much for me to figure out what was going on. Who I was talking to.

“So you’re an alternate version, huh?” I asked. Rhetorical, I know.

“Yes. I am younger than she was, but I went through similar things and took on missions all the same.”

“They used you like a back up, I take it. In case the main one died. Which is what happened. Doesn’t that disgust you?”

“It is what it is.”

Right. Such emotionless responses.

“In a way, though, it’s relieving. Knowing that there’s a version of her that’s still around and can experience freedom, like me.”

“I’m just a version of myself. I’m me. Not her.”

“But you do share several names and a background, yes?”

“She was irresponsible. She knew what her job was and she got tired of it, so she died. That’s all. She didn’t even have to, she just wanted to. Yet people won’t shut up about her when she was never worth the attention to begin with,” she growled, working up a rant. It seemed I actually struck something of a nerve.

“Hey, that’s my friend you’re talking about. Don’t talk about my friend that way,” I shot back.

“You two weren’t friends,” she scoffed. I wondered if that was the most mad she had been in a while.

“I just decided that we were. Seeing as she’s not alive to object, I think I can make that decision,” I gave a sly grin.

“That’s not how that works. Did you two even talk?”

I lifted up my index finger and closed my eyes.

“Once. Just once.”

“About what?”

“Some guy was bothering her and she was uncomfortable, that much I could tell. She also looked ready to break a bottle over his head, and I wasn’t really interested in a fight breaking out. I think I said something like, ‘is he bothering you, queen?’ Then pushed him aside. She looked confused, asked ‘queen?’ And I think I laughed and said not to worry about it. I remember she thanked me, and chattered her teeth while trying to sound out the words to do so. I told her not to mention it and offered to help her with anything if she ever came to me.”

“And?”

“Needless to say, she never came to me. I think when I told her that, she said something like, ‘thanks, I’ll think about it’ while turning her head from side to side, so she probably wasn’t ever going to consider it. But makes me wonder about what could’ve been. Like maybe it would’ve changed something.”

“It wouldn’t. There’s nothing you could have done. That’s just how she was,” she replied, all brisk and choppy.

“Yeah, I guess so. Still –”

“Shut up about her,” she snapped, although her voice didn’t even manage to raise all that much. I could just tell with her gestures. The shake of her fist. Everywhere shook, in fact, like it was more than just a shiver.

“It bothers you that much, huh? Is it the name, or just being reminded?” I really wasn’t trying to push any buttons. I didn’t even realize there were any buttons to push. But I guess that’s what I needed to expect, with there being differences and all.

“No. I’m not bothered. It’s just a name. Just someone who’s not around anymore. That’s just why I think people should shut up about it. That person’s gone. Gone. Poof.”

Real convincing.

“Is it because it feels like you’re constantly being compared to with another version of yourself? Or how people might see her as a superior version of you?”

I waited for a response. When I got none, I figured I hit the nail on the head.

“I’m me. Just me. I’m the only version of me there is,” she concluded. Less robotic, but still choppy. Almost downtrodden in her tone.

That’s fine as long as you believe that.

“What about that friend of yours? Demetria?”

“We’re not friends.”

“But she’s important to you, isn’t she?”

“In a way.”

“So you care about her, then?”

“No.”

“Were you worried I was going to kill her if she found me, so you followed behind?”

“Yes. But that doesn’t mean anything.”

Oh bother. It was fun at first, but now it’s like I was talking to a child.

“That whole aloof thing you got going isn’t a very good look for you,” I lectured.

“I’m not aloof.”

“Sure Jan,” I looked over and replied. “Look, I used to be like you, so I get it. I wanted to do everything on my own and I didn’t have much to share with others. But I’ve been blessed to have met a few good people here and there. I’ve survived due in part to the kindness of others.”

“Well…” She thought it over. “I don’t want to be aloof.”

“Bark like a dog, then,” I commanded.

To my surprise, she did just that: her best impression of a dog barking, anyway. I expected more of a Shiba Inu, but instead it came out as a yip, like a Chihuahua.

I cracked up; burst into laughter. Sides split and everything.

“Now you’re a woof,” I told her.

She growled, and I was inclined to say like a dog, as well.

“I hate you, you know that?” She whined.

“Aw, but I thought you loved puns,” I teased.

Changing the subject, she went back to a topic I thought would make her uncomfortable.

“By the way, do you even know what her last job was?”

Probably referring to the R-word.

“No. I was already here doing my own thing when it happened, so I never got to find out,” I explained.

“Well, if you ever want to know, I can give you Ves’ number.”

OK. Someone I don’t know about. Not useful at all.

“Why? Is she single?”

“Stop that. She’s got a cute wife.”

“Oh? Cute?” I should’ve told her I wasn’t really interested in either, as I knew she was the type to take everything seriously. “Like Demetria?”

“She’s cute too, yes.”

“So you admitted it,” I observed.

“Objectively speaking, anyway. Besides, that’s not the point – Ves was the one who killed her. She could fill you in better than I could.”

I see. She should’ve explained that sooner. I looked over and blinked.

“I don’t have a phone.”

She stared as well, then said, “oh.”

“Well, look: I’m working at this diner in the arctic for these people named Sunny and Ray. They thought I would be fun to work with, and not, well...me,” it seemed like Remora was just trying to proposition me with something, anything. I didn’t understand why. “So if you want to sometime, you could go up there. You’re probably more what they were looking for to begin with.”

I shook my head.

“No thanks. The cold’s your thing. I’m not really tied down to a motif. Besides, I’m a homeless old bat. How do you expect me to get up there?”

“I don’t know. You’re resourceful.”

True. I couldn’t deny that bit. Before I could answer, I started to cough. Like a tickle or a scratch at the back of my throat.

I leaned over and covered my mouth with my fist. Remora looked down.

“Are you sick?”

“Why do you care?” I smiled, even as I continued to cough.

“I don’t, but if you are, I don’t want to catch anything.”

As soon as she said that, the cough went away.

“Don’t worry. It’s not something you can catch.”

“What is it, then?”

If you or a loved one have been diagnosed with meso – no, it’s not that. I don’t think so, anyway.

“Sometimes a cough is just a cough. I’m getting old, anyway. I might die any day now.”

“Somehow I doubt it. You’re like a cockroach.”

“Yeah, but even cockroaches aren’t immortal,” I reminded her.

There was a moment of silence. That moment grew. Nothing more was said. Nothing more that I could recall. I soon drifted off to sleep, the silence having consumed me. In spite of the intrusions, I think I got the deepest sleep I had in a while.

#writing #stories #fiction #action #drama #crime #noir #remoras full #scifi #swords

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