#YES. YOU READ THAT RIGHT. ADDENDA. TO.

[aristoteliancomplacency]

Today’s favourite… Jellyfish?

JUST LOOK AT HER.

[stillhavetodothat]

Replaying Nancy Drew without Cheating - Part 5: Secret of the Scarlet Hand

FINALLY! We have reached a game in which I can probably count on a single hand how many times I have replayed it!! A few days ago I sat down at my laptop, rolled my neck out, cracked my knuckles, and got ready to buckle down: I knew this was going to be the first challenge of my mission to replay all Nancy Drew games without cheating.

And spoiler alert. It was.

Let me start out by saying that I sleep on this game constantly. It’s like I forget it exists. For some reason, of all the games I bought and played as a kid, this is one game that was missing from the collection probably until I was an older teenager. I had played almost every game in the first 10 games many many times over before I even played this game once. As a kid, all the history bored me. Every single game has had some historical element to it (even if it was a made-up history), but for some reason this one just reeeeally stood out to me as extra educational. And I already felt bogged down by the amount of education I was receiving in my elementary classroom.

However, I would like to formally apologize to you, SSH, as you are interesting, fun, hilarious, tough at times, and a little bit dark. You’re everything a Nancy Drew game should be, and I am sorry for underappreciating you the past 20 years.

Was I extremely tempted to cheat in this game? Yes. Multiple times. So much so that I am actually impressed by my willpower, and I am actually very proud of myself for getting through it without a walkthrough FOR THE FIRST TIME EVAR!! Thank god for this blog which for some reason is making me feel held accountable, regardless of whether anyone reads any of it or not.

Here are all the times I was tempted to cheat. Many, many spoilers abound, obviously.

1. In the beginning of the game, when I had to find the addenda to the monolith loan agreement to bring to Alejandro del Rio. I searched for about 45 minutes, sprinting up and down the exhibition hall and up and down the temple steps, to find that damn loan addenda. I wanted to cheat, I NEEDED to cheat, but I gave it another few minutes and found a bench in the museum lobby that I had somehow never seen before. Eurrreka!

2. Looking for fucking Sonny Joon’s username and password. WHY?? WHY DID I SOMEHOW READ EVERY SINGLE OTHER THING ON HIS DISK BUT SOMEHOW MISS THE VERY EXPLICIT USERNAME AND PASSWORD WRITTEN RIGHT THERE?? Not me literally at the computer in the temple trying to guess Sonny’s username (sonnyjoon? sj? kokokringle?) with no success.

3. Trying to figure out HOW Topeka Commission of the Arts was associated with Beech Hill. I KNEW I had to somehow be triggered into contacting Prudence Rutherford (because who can forget a shrill phone contact with a very ambiguous accent?), but could not for the life of me figure out how. I read that magazine interview in Joanna’s office approximately 10 times and spent a small fortune on metro rides around the city of Washington DC before I clicked on the plaque outside of Joanna’s office. The funny thing was, I had clicked on the plaque on the OTHER side of the door at the beginning of the game, but since nothing happened I figured the other one was probably equally unimportant. This was the most frustrating one I think.

4. Speaking of phone contacts, the fact that you can only call Copper Canyon from the hotel and get a error tone every time you try at the museum is MADDENING. It took me forever to talk to Sheila because I could not get this concept into my head. I still can���t.

5. I stg I thought I was going to have to cheat once I was locked inside the monolith, because I have NEVER solved it on my own without a walkthrough. But it was actually not hard? WHY AM I SO LAZY?? At the very least, this project of mine is really teaching me that I need to be more patient.

Here are some other random thoughts on this game:

1. Taylor Sinclair is absolutely hysterical. He is an amazing culprit. Everything out of his mouth is an unexpected riot. He just seems...slippery. I can forgive that HerInteractive gave us the biggest bores in the world in Louis and Lisa, since they then delivered an insane, slightly demented old man who isn’t afraid to kidnap a teenage girl, and then an eccentric, small-mustachioed LUNATIC of an art dealer as the next two culprits. I just...chef’s kiss.

2. Because of how much I love Taylor, I am horribly disappointed that we can’t poke around his office when he runs out at the most convenient time for us to take something off the Poppy Dada piece. Also, why was he running out so suddenly? Was he about to shit his pants from those Oaxaca cookies? Is that the joke? Whatever that was, it was not very well fleshed out.

3. I wrote “spooky Maya” in looping cursive in my notes. Why?

4. Loved the storyline of Henrik van der Hune falling down the temple steps and losing his memory. Brilliant. Also loved seeing Henrik groaning and sprawled on the floor. Brilliant.

5. Is this why I had a crush on Henrik as a teenager? His vaguely sexual landing at the bottom of the pyramid? Why are my biggest Nancy Drew game crushes Dexter Egan and Henrik van der Hune? I am just as disturbed as you are, trust me.

6. Tell me why Her created that surreal maze puzzle on Louis’s laptop in MHM and thought it was such a good puzzle that they had to reuse it for this game?

7. I initially was praising the game devs for staying true to the layout of the city when building out their simplified DC metro map, until I realized that Beech Hill is located up in the northeast, near Fort Totten, but the museum’s address, according to the invoice in Joanna’s office, is in the SW quadrant. Hmmmmmm.

8. “Semper ubi sub ubi” means always wear underwear. I looked it up and I hate to say anything nice about Joanna Riggs but that is a good conversation sign-off.

9. The way I stalked that Shipping and Receiving room waiting for packages to arrive...it hit way too close to home.

10. What in god’s name was this ending?? I forgot how weird this is, these 3 showing up as soon as I get the monolith open. How long were they waiting  while I was struggling to breathe in that thing? They’re just standing there, all in a row, reciting some creepy rehearsed poem with shit-eating grins and unblinking stares on their faces. How long had they been planning this??

11. Taylor Sinclair’s face and him shouting “ConFOUND you, Nancy Drew!” while shaking his fist at the heavens almost makes up for it, though. Taylor Sinclair: the only culprit thus far willing to lock you in a prison of stone - with an ancient mummy forever frozen in a scream - with the full intention of letting you suffocate, starve to death, and not be found for literally hundreds of years. The gruesome scoundrel!

This game is fun. It was a nice surprise. There is a TON to do: it is challenging and there’s lots of snooping and puzzles to solve. There are also a bunch of components that are unique, like Henrik’s hospital stay and Taylor Sinclair’s existence. Writing this, I do realize there are plenty of flaws...the game is finicky and you have to do things a very certain way in a very certain order, some of the tasks are tedious (those temple quizzes), the ending scene is perterbing, and the maze game is an unwelcome reminder of Louis Chandler. Not a favorite, but I appreciate this game for all its quirks and storytelling.

MOON LAKE, I’M COMIN’ FOR YA! 

[centaurrential]

Play that funky music...

About a week ago I was walking from home to the train station, with the frost forcing me to tactically place my feet as I walked so as not to slip and fall. Most of the way I was able to walk on the grass peeking out from under the gates of residential properties. Even with the frost, the texture of grass is much friendlier than the slickness of pavement.

I was nearly at the steps up to the station when I thought, “Ha! Home free!” Of course, the second I stopped paying attention to my feet, I fell. My natural inclination was to curse the municipality for failing to salt the sidewalk, but, me being me, my thoughts led to, “but what about eutrophication? What about over-salinization of waterways? Soil??? What. are. the. consequences?!” And then all those split-second thoughts collapsed into, “...what if sidewalks were designed with more texture in mind?”

You encounter those situations often in life. One problem is solved, but solutions beget more problems, and so on, until you’re spiralling into a rather ridiculous situation where your problems become inflated and you’re trying to get a grip on things when the whole matter could have been avoided in the first place.

With regard to writing and argument, many university professors prefer shorter works and will actually penalize you if you write beyond the set limit. But those are exercises in logic and persuasiveness - I’m attempting something a bit different.  The second-to-last thing I wrote was nearly ten pages long according to my word processor. I could have written a lot more, but I was afraid of overwhelming people. However, it seems that my writing is easy enough to follow and it wouldn’t be a terrible thing if I went on longer, so I’ll do that this time. I’m happy to do that, ‘cause there are a lot of tiny pieces that make the puzzle.

And again, I want to add a few notes regarding my one of my previous posts (the one about mental health was something like a short performance during an intermission). Looking back, I think these addenda actually tie separate posts together nicely. (Initially I had the word ‘little’ in front of ‘addenda’ but once I reviewed what I actually wrote, I don’t think ‘little’ is the right descriptor...)

The observation that ‘responsibility to others is necessary’ is not my own. Dr. Jordan Peterson (the infamous U of T psychology professor) has championed that as medicine for the modern existential crises many people find themselves falling into. He also tends to critique ideological thinking. I purposely didn’t mention his name, not to take credit for his ideas, but because I wanted to protect myself, and to protect the ideas. I wanted them to stand alone per se, so that everyone could reflect on where taking on more responsibility to others might aid them more than they thought. Peterson has influenced my thinking enormously and I didn’t want the leftist radicals to rip my head off because some of his opinions are highly controversial (and because I am, in a way, an ally to them, and I really do value some of the things those people have to say). If you’re interested, look him up, but if you do, please look carefully. I’ll comment on the theme characterizing his relationship to social justice later in this post.

I generally see Dr. Peterson’s views as rather optimistic, but with respect to certain issues I feel this optimism is misplaced. Two reasons why:

a. He attempts to justify economic inequality generated by capitalism via the ‘paredo distribution’ (Google it). The graph is apparently a pattern that economists have discovered, which reflects the natural flow of more money into the hands of people who already have it. And this is generally understood: the more capital you have, the easier it is to take risks and to invest and thus generate more capital. And if that behaves as some kind of ‘economic law’ or inescapable trend, then why challenge it? But of all the lectures and interviews I’ve watched on YouTube, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him concede that this distribution pattern might be exaggerated because of dishonesty and historical oppression, which altered the playing field tremendously, so much so that levelling it seems nearly impossible - and that we are still paying for it today all whilst battling the new emerging monster that is post-modern capitalism (which is ironically fuelled by our appetite for social media).

The most obvious global example is the “slave trade”. Not only was most of the continent of Africa torn into pieces, its own people were taken from their homes and sent across an entire fucking ocean, in an attempt to distribute its riches, which were never for the taking in the first place. So while the description of ‘whiteness’ as privilege is inaccurate as it is too broad and too narrow at the same time, the feeling of guilt some people feel because they were simply born into a culture that has its roots in colonization is a very real problem. And any Canadian who’s encountered the news at some point in the last few years knows that this problem is alive and well, still kicking at the backdoor of Indigenous communities.

The specifics of dishonest profit-making: inexcusable wages, horrendous working conditions (even in North America), the ruin of families because workers are sucked away to do hard labour instead, the evaporation of opportunity for self-determination, the inability to basically breathe, and, the clincher: the manufactured DEPENDENCY on all of this. And that’s only in the spiritual realm - never mind the disastrous ecological situation.

People generally think of vegetation as a ‘renewable resource’. False. I mean technically, yes, you can plant more trees and you can grow more vegetation, but that’s only the case if your soil is of sufficient quality, and even then certain soils only permit certain kinds of vegetation to grow. Like a grassland versus a subalpine forest. And yes, soil and vegetation do have a give-and-take relationship, but the complexity of both the soil and of the ecosystem at large takes a VERY long time to develop, so long that it’s hard to even conceive of the time span if we were to overlay it with our personal lives.

When I first read (in an introductory forestry textbook) that soil, not the crop, is the true resource, it blew my mind. That’s because time constraints dictate our lives and they dictate what constitutes “renewable resources” and “non-renewable resources”. The problem wouldn’t be so bad if we could find a way to revive soil and bring it back to its authenticity (ie. its historical character, just before the pillage) once we’re done harvesting whatever crop we have. And farmers do do that to a certain extent; they rotate crops: some crops suck the nitrogen out of the soil, and some restore it.  But you look at something like the Alberta tar sands, and never mind the fact that it’s an oil producer, but also that is ground we are never getting back, because that ground evolved in such a way that only the passage of time can allow. Erosion can take two forms: physical (many soils are stratified and if you dig a hole deep enough you can actually see the layers because they’re often coloured differently), and chemical depletion.  And if you segregate excess biological matter so much that it cannot return to the soil, those locked-in nutrients aren’t going to just magically appear out of nowhere. That would violate our law of the conservation of mass.

And we’re not even talking about the little society that is the mature/old-growth forest. You can see a marked difference between tree plantations and natural forests. Part of the discipline of forestry is to observe the stages that occur in forest development, and it isn’t just “let’s go plant some trees in a barren landscape”. When you learn about the different qualities in a forest plot like its geologic traits and the way water moves through it, you have to use your powers of deduction to write some kind of backstory that explains the ageing of that young forest into old growth. The point is, the explanation is necessarily holistic.

Old forests are messier, and that’s because they’re like human societies in that they become much more complex over time. However, they don’t resist change-making elements. They change in accordance with the ebb and flow of Earth’s cyclical processes. By contrast, human-made structures require humans to tend to them, to restore the order that entropy has taken, to ‘heal’ natural erosion. Scientists concerned with the relationship between humans and the natural environment often encourage people to go into nature because it’s healthy. I don’t think that has as much to do with extra oxygen intake as it does with vibing the rhythms of nature.

Ok, I went on a bit of a tangent there but not for no reason.

I think Dr. Peterson really does want to see the glass as half-full rather than half empty but he also tries to paint capitalism in a more positive light by saying that people are less poor now than they were half a century ago. That may be the case, but then I wonder what got them poor in the first place? It was the idea that ‘this is mine just because [I got lucky and] I have the tools (money) to make it mine’, and the mindset that suppressed people don’t have inherent value and that another’s quality of life doesn’t depend on more than just money. And if you’ve got enough money and the investment offer you propose to a government is appealing enough, international borders, and the management of resources that’s supposed to fall within those borders, don’t matter either! It’s like breaking someone’s flower vase on purpose, gluing the bits and pieces back together, and then saying, “Look what I did for you! You owe me a thanks.” But of course, the people who did the vase-breaking and the people trying to repair the vase aren’t always the same people.

The other situation where I don’t think Peterson accounts for the entire truth:

b. Women. It sounds like most feminists hate him. I don’t think he hates women; I think he’s too preoccupied with figuring out the truth about things to resort to something like that. There are moments when he’s on the public stage where he’s actually moved to tears because of how passionately he feels about human suffering, and because of the gratitude people have toward him for his ability to motivate his listeners in fixing themselves. And I think the majority of his audience consists of young men, which some people look at and think “RED FLAG”. But the detractors don’t pay attention to the real reasons his ideas appeal to men because they think all men are one-dimensional creatures.

Anyway, when he thinks of feminism he thinks economically, and I guess that makes sense because the more money you have, the more freely you can act.  And in that respect, for him, sexism doesn’t exist and the disparities we see between men and women in the workforce are because of inherent differences in male and female personalities - not that one is better than the other, but because they’re just different. But when I see people complaining that about someone being ‘relegated’ to a traditional female role (or they’ve been brainwashed into thinking those are the only suitable roles), it makes me wonder why those roles aren’t elevated to an importance equal to that of traditionally male roles. And the way I interpret the economics of feminism -- liberal feminism -- is that the traditional realm of the woman is left in the dust, and what we should all aspire to are masculine ideals, which, to me, isn’t really a good type of feminism at all!

But what’s ignored is this sort of...carnal...view of women that misogynists have, that has nothing to do with economics and everything to do with female sex organs, the female form, and the belief that because of all the things that make women women, they are purely inferior to everything considered “traditionally masculine”. You can be a financially successful woman and still experience an ancient sexism, latent or otherwise, which really is tied to your sexuality and to your ability to produce babies and further, the expectation that you will be the one to nurture them. And the ancient and the present clash violently sometimes. And I don’t have a problem with a lack of mercy toward true misogynists, but I do feel sorry for them because, can you imagine how they feel once they realize a woman is actually smarter and more capable than them?

So here I want to address the relationship between the individual and the communities the individual is a part of. I talk about individuals a lot and I think I have a very good reason for doing so. First of all, it’s cultural. I’m speaking from the point of view of a society in which the development of the individual is encouraged, and is a priority. We probably wouldn’t be able to relate to people from less prominent cultures who really do think first and foremost in group terms. And psychologically, there are few instances where a person, whose sense of individuality is fully formed, would be capable of transforming into something else (not to say that’s impossible though).

You may remember the link I provided in my last post, and if you read the article you’ll know that the degree to which a person sees themselves as an individual varies across cultures (and you’ll know how breath-taking and unexpected the connection between schizophrenia and individualism is). The author mentions a study involving Chinese citizens and Danish citizens, where researchers discovered that variations in notions of individuality are reflected neurologically. I can’t help but wonder if the diminished sense of autonomy observed in the Chinese participants had something to do with China becoming a giant of communism. This may be a case of the-chicken-or-the-egg, but the fact that the government under Mao committed huge human rights atrocities, which no average citizen would willingly invite into their homes, leads me to believe that the communist mindset would, if anything, be less attractive in the aftermath than when it was a novel idea. I obviously don’t know the whole history, so this is just conjecture. But then, compare that situation to the one in the United States where even the word “socialism” (communism-lite to some) sends people into a frenzy. And, arguably, contained in the American mentality is a very deep idea of independence from others. Canadian citizens are known (and I think beloved!) internationally for being more peaceful and more moderate than our southern neighbours. The word ‘socialism’ doesn’t hit a nerve with us like it does Americans, and I was always so puzzled why the S word was such a dirty word to them. Now it makes a little more sense... it’s psychological.

There is no sense in arguing what type of mindset is better or worse, ‘cause I think we’re sort of stuck with what we have. And what I say here isn’t meant to be universal, for obvious reasons. Anyway, the issue isn’t so much Individualism trumping the need for the betterment of the community, or sacrificing the realization of individual desires for community order, but that overall, the individual is inhabited by emotion, or otherwise that which compels you. And the feeling a person has is what causes them to act, and that is the first level of interpersonal change-making. And if an individual deviates from accepted moral behaviours, the onus is on them to pay the price. Pretty much everything else is external. The way you transform your individual feelings into something that the community might benefit from - and you SHOULD, because we place a hell of a lot of trust in strangers as we go about our daily activities - is to think that maybe, if you’re feeling something, someone else has felt the same. And the way you figure that out for certain is by trusting that a person will tell you, given that they’re allowed the opportunity to do so. I’m pretty sure Wittgenstein talked about this in his Philosophical Investigations.

It’s like when kids fall and scrape their knees or something. You don’t just assume that they’re not okay because they have an injury, you wait for them to tell you if they’re in trouble. If they pick themselves up and move on with the activity, you can trust that they are fine. One of the many things that are awesome about kids is that they don’t mess around; they’re not political and they haven’t yet assumed all those pretences that we adults have.

For a moment I want to explore what knowledge can do to morality. In this context I mean morality in the human realm, which I believe is more complicated than it used to be. Take war and refugees, for example. Even before social media we relied on journalists to provide us with accurate information about acute situations, like war. But we’ve become exposed to systemic, chronic injustices taking place in countries we think are technically functioning alright just because bombs aren’t going off and they’re not waking up everyday to the sound of machine-gun fire. We generally have knowledge that there are people somewhat unlike ourselves, in that they suffer because the quality of their lives is much worse than ours. We wouldn’t know about these things if not for global travel, and if not for the Internet.

So we feel something tugging at our heartstrings - can we do something about it? A relatively painless solution is to donate money. That works, but only when you have human agency thrown into the mix - money is useless without people. And NGOs, like any other organization, have their maximum operational capacities, and humans have maximum capacities too. So the question is, when do you give up your life for the sake of someone else’s, halfway across the globe? And does the information we have obligate us to do these things just as knowing our next-door-neighbour would (in theory) obligate us to help them when needed? And from that follows another question: how big should our jurisdictions--the administrators of public works and services--get before our neighbours become faceless?

So some prominent public figures like to warn people that “democracy is in trouble.” Um, no shit Sherlock! From the American point of view, I think what they’re referring to--other than corruption--is increased ideological polarization, with fewer people meeting on middle ground. And that’s to be expected: not only is a collection of individuals more powerful the bigger it gets, resulting in greater capacity to attract more like-minded people, but the Internet has made it very easy for such groups to be more visible, and then more accessible. Of course Americans are typically seen as more “extreme” than Canadians, and that view (fact?) contributed to the theory that the financial crisis of 2007/8 was harsher on the Americans than it was on Canada: the “all-in” was reflected in the propensity for US bankers to take greater risks in sculpting their neat little “financial packages”, whereas that was less so the case in Canada. (This is not my own theory, just something I learned in a random political science class.) Anyway, so the legitimized and dare I say, “civilized” channels of social change (ie. voting, writing to your local elected official) are increasingly being circumvented.

But if we haven’t already lost democracy, we are well on the way. People who instruct that YoU sHoUlD vOtE employ a paper thin definition of democracy that assumes the democracy of the ancients is the same as democracy in 2020, which it absolutely is not! First of all, if you consider the rural voter compared to one employed on Wall Street, the vote representing Wall Street reaches further than the rural one, and is more likely to be heard than the one representing rural lifestyles. So the illusion that “every individual gets one vote” may be a de jure truth, but is a de facto lie.

It matters where people collect themselves, and it matters what way entire industries vote, and it matters which industries are considered more important than others. After all, “the economy” is number one in political platforms, and if it’s not number one to individual voters, that’s because they operate on the presumption that they are sufficiently insulated from drastic changes in that realm, allowing them to focus on social issues instead.

And even if we’re not voting officially in elections, we can see how skewed “democracy” is, and how not all votes are equal, if we pay close attention to the issues that monopolize the media. While the purpose of media is provide us with information, it does also act like some kind of statistical sieve. I suppose the best (and easiest) way to maintain skepticism is to remind oneself that what you see on the daily news is only a tiny portion of what is happening in the world, and that is just its nature.

I had lunch with a friend on Boxing Day and she provided me with some statistics that basically compared the number of lives lost in our province due to drug overdoses, compared to the number of lives lost because of COVID infection, over the same time period. Deaths from ODs far outnumber deaths from COVID, but it’s obvious which issue has been dominating our psyches for months now. And why is that? It’s because the people who are likely to die from drug overdoses are “certain kinds of people”; drug use is their “identity”, and that through their “habits” they are segregated from the rest of the population. We believe, however, that COVID isn’t selective in the same way that overdoses are, and so more people feel the need to act, if only on a theoretical basis. But why would this discrepancy exist if the only thing we cared about was preserving the life of a person, no matter who it was?  This is the rural road/Wall Street issue in another form.

Furthermore, the distance between voters and elected representatives has ballooned, though I couldn’t imagine it any other way. Never mind the obvious issue we have in Canada where we don’t vote directly for our Prime Minister--unlike the presidential elections in the US--we run into many obstacles whenever we try to get the government to bloody well listen to us. Anyone who’s dealt with Service Canada, or any bureaucracy for that matter, would agree. The point is objectivity and fairness--and fairness is a good but complicated thing--but the more heterogeneous your population becomes, the more difference in people you need to account for, and the looser and looser the language becomes! The details of any issue you need resolving become close to irrelevant. Like it’s no wonder political platforms are so generalized and vague. Maybe the loss of democracy engenders ideology because people want goals, they want inclusivity, justifiably, and they want things against which to measure the efficacy of politicians. But the specificity required to address the needs of a particular community is really hard to come by! If you really wanted to stay true to the origins of democracy you would decentralize everything, and the balloon separating voters and elected representatives would shrink, but that’s not going to happen. So we might as well loosen our grip on The Democracy Ideal and just call it something else.

That being said, it isn’t like federal governance isn’t useful, because even if you disagree with federalization the reality is that centralized governance makes possible the galvanization and coordination of resources and people that small, independently-governed communities would be unable to accomplish. Example: war. You may not be the one looking for war, but that doesn’t mean someone who’s got beef with you isn’t either. War is not funny, but I tend to see warmongers as little boys throwing temper tantrums - “You made me MAD and now I’m coming to destroy your sandcastle!!!!” :o ...did I say that out loud?

And the power of tax revenue increases the larger your jurisdiction becomes.

Think of it this way: you have many small, independently-governed communities in one area of the world, and a more centralized community in another area of the world. In terms of land-mass, total population, and GDP per capita, the group of small communities and the single large one are the same. And the total tax revenue from the small jurisdictions combined equals the revenue from the one, big, centralized system. But you can bet that the more centralized society is gonna be able to do more with its dollars, just because you have fewer people, who are possibly less ideologically (nationalistically?) divergent, in charge OF those dollars!

And most people can name their Premier or the Prime Minister before they’d be able to name the lesser celebrities that make up Parliament and the legislature, which tells you a whole lot right there. You can see that whenever people talk politics they’re not complaining about what their local representative is or isn’t doing (with the exception of mayors, but as my tenth-grade civics class described it, cities “are creations of the province” and are dependent on provincial and federal funding, whereas the provinces pre-existed confederation). The focus is always on the higher-level politicians, on a provincial or national level. Not to mention people are nothing but mobile these days, and you can easily find yourself traveling (or even relocating your residence) from one jurisdiction or electoral ward to another in just an hour. Now how do you govern people who are mobile like that? They can take their money out of one jurisdiction and inject it into another, no sweat. Like, maybe, someone who lives on the border between BC and Alberta. Or Ontario and Quebec. You get the point.

And the issue of mobility is a very important one because the main mode of transportation people rely on will dictate what they can do with their lives. A person who relies on a bicycle or public transit to get around will not have the potential to do as much as a person who owns a car. The time it takes to get places--because you are either at the mercy of your physical energy, or you are at the mercy of bus and train schedules--and the size and weight of the load you can carry is dependent on what you can afford, and also what is more “practical”. So while you technically may live in a big jurisdiction like Toronto or Vancouver, the “city” that you move through to secure your essentials is bound, with your residence at the centre and the distance from that centre that you are able to travel. And if you have more constraints, you have to be discerning about what your most important tasks are.  

Here’s another way to think about: if you’re the sort of person who’d rather buy “locally grown” food than “imported” food, what is your definition of “local”? Does it refer to anything within provincial or state borders, or does it refer to a particularly-sized circle where the grocery store you are most loyal to occupies the centre?

I’m switching gears here because I really want to talk more about an issue that affects me greatly: the problem of ideology. So for a while there I was kind of YouTube obsessed and Peterson explained one of the advantages of YouTube perfectly: on that platform you don’t have the time constraints, and you don’t necessarily have the ideological constraints you find in mainstream media, either. You can do justice to issues that need much deeper exploration than what the news offers, and I’m of the mind that many things are like that.

So I’d watch conversations or debates or whatever you want to call them and I think to myself, am I missing something?! Sometimes you talk to a person who’s so staunch in their ideology and they have such confidence, and such conviction that you really do wonder if they know something you don’t. But this happens on both “sides” of the established political spectrum. Which begs the question: does your point of view have such exquisite internal unity that it is impossible to extract from it a single valid proposition without needing to commit to the entire farce? It’s like standing at a concrete wall, knowing there is something on the other side, but no chance of wishing a door into existence. And those people are built like metal detectors. Metal detectors have a sole purpose and that’s to sniff out something they’re already looking for. You can almost predict how a conversation with an ideologue is going to go if you have prior knowledge about their general political stance. You’re fed a script, and this script has pretty much remained the same through time, with maybe new information thrown in there to support a belief the person already has. And because the societal picture in their minds looks more like a Mondrian than a Monet, when they get stuck in a corner and have no option but to repeat something they’ve already said in hopes that viewers won’t notice, it is positively cringe-worthy!

I’m not here to endorse one political party over another, I just exposit as I see it.

In my view, modern conservatives differ from liberals in one key way: they support and even instigate the encroachment of their ideals into people’s personal lives, whereas liberals tend to be more like “live and let live”. That’s what makes the issues of abortion and same-sex marriage hard to resolve in the arena of party politics.

I think, for anyone to lay claim to truth in politics, they’d have to find themselves in the innumerable (possibly infinite) different social situations people find themselves in on a regular basis, just to get a wee understanding of why they may make certain choices in future terms. But that’s impossible. The most you can say is, “Well I’ve lived through a multitude of different social dynamics at play, and I know that things aren’t always the same, and so the best I can do is acknowledge possibilities, even if I can’t name them.” Like a person can find themselves oppressed in one situation (according to the definition of oppression I suggested in a previous post) and be perfectly okay in another. And this applies globally. Think of going to a posh restaurant where you’re unable to purchase a drink with your astronomically-priced meal so you’re forced to order water. But THEN you go to a dive bar and because you can afford a pitcher of beer you feel like a KING.

...No, things can get more serious than that.

I think one good thing the left has given us is the concept of ‘intersectionality’, and I think the degree of intersectionality in a society is related to its level of multiculturalism. But I’ve seen it abused, and selectively applied. They take one look at a person, think to themselves, “Oh, you look aryan,” and then without thinking about the possible tragedies that pepper your background, they throw you into the “privileged white person” pile and wash their hands clean of you. And applying those ‘white people’ stereotypes to a person who appears to be a certain way is just as bad as any other stereotype. Also, samples of supposed ‘radical thinking’ on social media really shows another type of authoritarianism, where people ABSOLUTELY CANNOT MAKE MISTAKES! Forgiveness isn’t a concept in the vocabulary of the SJW. You say something tone-deaf and without inviting you to explain and thus explore why you said what you said, it’s, “you’re canceled.” Anyone worth talking to isn’t going to want others to see them as prejudiced. They may be ignorant, but that doesn’t mean they’re filled with hate. Someone throws the word ‘bigot’ at you and it’s like, well who can argue with THAT?!  You go scampering off in shame. The conversation is done. They’ve made up their minds.

The people I just described are a very, very strange lot to me. They’re meant to be crusaders of social justice, which is a noble thing -- you think of the Paris student protests of ’68, you think of Stonewall, MLK Jr, the people who were ready to lay their lives on the line for the sake of love and truth... but I really don’t think the SJW’s mental faculties are fully developed, and I really don’t think they are sincerely committed to the cause.

I see this happen often when we’re dealing with the trans pronoun issue. Because it is a gender issue and, people who think in black-and-white terms tend to force transgendered individuals into the care of feminism. But to think that feminism can advocate for the trans community is to first, ignore the the fact that this is a special case (and no one knows it better than the person living that reality), and second, to ignore the historical reasons for the necessity of feminism.

Even if the composition of society today is different from what it was fifty or sixty years ago, it’s still worth paying attention to the themes of recent history even if you don’t pursue it academically, because that’ll give you clues as to why an idea emerged the way it did. You might remember the sensation that was, “Ok, boomer”. I refuse to think of that New Zealand MP, who was 25 years old at the time she said that, as representative of my age-group and our attitudes toward elders. No doubt there is a chasm in the understanding between generations, but you don’t just dismiss someone, even though he or she is a generally reasonable person, just because they don’t share your point of view. What is it we always say? Hindsight is 2020? Sure, you can blame people all you want, but you’re only doing that because you have more information NOW than previous generations did when the problem was in its prodromal phase. I think of the MP who said that as juvenile, ideological, and self-righteous. If you had to live through the Great Depression and two World Wars how do you think you would react? Obviously boomers came around after the Second World War, but we all know well and clear that ideals and values are more or less inherited. It’s like, “Well you should have been able to see into the future and because you didn’t we’re going to publicly patronize you!”

So we’ve got major problems now, and it’s not that these problems exist in vacuums away from one another; they form a mesh, a kind of spiderweb on steroids, and we’re caught in it. Some of the will for societal change falls to the individual, but sometimes people need to be forced into shedding old habits and adopting new ones. They say, necessity is the mother of invention. Well, likewise, I say, necessity is the father of deflation. But it looks to me like governments--the only ones with the tools (legislation and policy) to initiate change without society imploding--can have their heads in the clouds too. You may have tools, but if you don’t know what their uses are and therefore what you can create with them, you might as well not have them at all. But there they are, sitting in your garage, gathering dust...

The other day I saw a billboard advertising a government attack on the plastics industry, lol. You want an example of idealism? That’s it right there. I have to ask: how do you suggest we go about doing that? ‘Cause plastic is the thing that supports democratization of goods and our ability to be spontaneous. To eliminate plastic altogether is the sort of thing that requires very careful planning, and not just on the individual level but on a systemic level too. Talk about filling a gap!

The capitalist narrative, with growth of an economy as one of its most important tenets, has permeated the collective conscious so thoroughly that we think of capitalism as the only necessary and sufficient path to a functioning society! Well society looks like it’s functioning, but that’s a facade, and if you’ve been following my blog you’ll know why I think that way. 

The problem is that this post-modern way of being has gathered so much momentum that we’re still unsure of what to do. Does the elimination of one bad thing take other, potentially good things with it?

Again, from a dialectical standpoint I do wonder if it is possible to abandon the things that don’t serve us, while keeping things interesting and diverse enough that life can actually be fulfilling, and FUN! 

[purkinje-effect]

The Anatomy of Melancholy, 64: Ice Cream Scoops

Table of Contents. Second Instar, Chapter 31. Go to previous. Go to next. That was the way it was. TWs: Disrespectful behaviors toward disability, joint trauma.

__________________

Click, click, click-click.

In a bathrobe and little else, Melancholy sat at the opened secretary desk in the chill upstairs room of Glenn Johnny’s, opening and closing the lid of a Mentats tin. He supposed the rich dirt-like smell wasn’t coffee, after all, when he saw Angel through the glassless window at the balcony, busied with laundry.

He wondered what sort of water arrangement the place must have, since he had noticed a space where a bathtub must have been when he went to the bathroom upon first waking. The toilet worked fine, but he didn’t try the sink. He’d washed his hands and face, and knocked the dirt and blood from the hair that could directly touch his face, with the tin of water Angel had left for him alongside a bottle of Melancholia. The bathroom only had an extending shaving mirror in tact. For some reason, relying on it for general maintenance elicited the specific grudge at the unlikelihood that he’d ever use one for its intended purpose. He wondered if as a ghoul Sticks even needed to shave anymore, or if it simply came down to the fact Sticks might use mirrors so little that he’d never bothered to replace the larger one.

So much of the ice cream parlor had stayed so well kept, and it didn’t surprise him a bit. Sticks had worked at Concord’s Hardware Town before the war, after all. Despite a general disconnect from technological savvy, the ghoul absolutely knew his way around plumbing and electrical alike. The ghoul had truly taken the time to edit the space for function and comfort.

'Choly’s companions had both risen before him, likely long before. He didn’t want to bother Angel or Sticks, but did hope one crossed paths with him soon without his having to call after either. He disliked the thought his clinginess might echo his chem exposure and activities from the day before, and shoved the thought away. The next he looked down, he realized he wasn’t clicking the tin anymore. It was hard to say at what point he’d set it down and begun clicking his finger joints back and forth to similar effect.

He popped off the cap with the Nuka World bottle-letter opener from one of the drawers, and worked at his tart, cherry-flavored breakfast. Brushing out his hair and pinning it up took tremendous effort because his hands wouldn’t behave. Sooner than fuss with the unwashed mess, he tucked up a half-managed bun into the ushanka. He couldn’t tell whether he directed his bitterness more toward the source of his constitution or to the previous owner of the hat. He’d promised Angel not a week ago that he’d try to go as clean as he could, to divorce his condition from his withdrawals. But, the aching remained constant, and it was evident his motor skills and energy levels had only worsened.

It didn’t even matter whether he’d got the recipe right. Could this stuff be considered Melancholia proper, without opiates? Sticks had already provided him access to Med-X, of which 'Choly wasn’t a fan. But the Melancholy’s salts, that was a hubeine mix, not a codeine mix...

It should’ve distressed him, that such digital mistreatment didn’t hurt significantly more than the arthritis to which the cryogenesis had inured him.

Every part of him knew only aches.

He drew the Merrick Index from its pigeonhole and fingered through the Addenda, to reference the hubeine dosage he’d calculated before. He hadn’t exactly tested his calculations, though, because his one trial had been intended to be lethal. Hubeine had no easy, safe tests to confirm it posited more than a poison, either, no matter the dose. The few Lexington raiders left standing half a day after dosing them were dead on their feet. He struggled to locate the page he’d scrawled leading up to the Berserk Syringe demonstration, to cross-reference his initial collected thoughts against the frenetic vapor of going to town on a faction that had collectively abused him far too long.

Even with the Mentats he’d found in the desk, he could hardly think straight.

Oh, how he wanted little more than a cup of coffee.

He massaged at the fur lining of an ear flap of the cap, spaced out again a ways.

The MKEXCEED Papers weren’t on the desk with the Merrick and history textbook. He assumed Angel just hadn’t had the time to organize such effects just yet. Or maybe, for all he knew, it was acting the part of the DIA Handy as always, and protecting once confidential documents.

It dawned on him, that he still had his transcript of The Unfolding in a draft on his Pip-Boy’s holotape. He fidgeted with the device, still nursing his meal replacement. First he noticed the radio stations that the thing could pick up: The one he’d listened to on his way to Lowell had changed its branding, but retained its frequency. He tuned to WXXX. A mellow ambient orchestral piece smoothed out the morning air in the room. Then he flipped tabs over to what started as an unexpectedly coherent account of events.

A few paragraphs into reading over his rough notes, he flinched. He’d drafted directly onto his decryption holotape. He twisted about from his seat, to confirm Sticks didn’t possess a working terminal. It’d have to live where it lay until he could find one, in order to copy it to a different holotape.

He let himself unclench, admiring the view of the river bend and falls out the East windows. The thought of becoming a reclusive writer had some appeal. Maybe if they were to live here together, he could get Sticks to help him locate a terminal and set it up upstairs. He hadn’t really needed one before. A typewriter had suited him fine. The terminal at 103 Old North Lane belonged to Sticks. But now, viable paper stock seemed a very rare commodity. Reusable media felt more reliable and easier to manage, though they required on hand equipment...

Accurate, embellished, or entirely fictional, any narrative seemed a bit beyond him still. With a sigh, he resumed skimming the Merrick. He could hear the ghoul downstairs, and the robot humming softly to itself outside. Maybe the two of them would hear the radio and know he was awake, and come investigate...

His soul was too tired to summon any rightful frustration with the entrepreneur.

Clarimentin. He flipped back to the page containing pharmaceutical data on the antibiotic. Nothing in its entry indicated encouraged use alongside high doses of Rad-X. Cross-referencing Rad-X yielded the same nothing, not so much as mention of any antibiotics. He leafed through the book both ways for some time, with mounting exasperation to blame the Mentats for not helping enough with even rudimentary research comprehension.

He sat up with a start when something was set beside him on the desk, then wilted in nuisance with himself when he recognized a hot mug of black coffee.

“I haven’t got any cream, and I figure you’d rather have sugar than sugar.” Sticks leaned down to peck his forehead, and rub at his back. He smiled, pronouncing the split in the side of his upper lip. “Going to assume I’m not the only one with sticky digits. That’s a Deenwood percolator down there.”

“I did smell coffee! Ohhh, thank you.” He soothed his hands wrapping them around the mug for a minute. Then, he turned to give the shying ghoul a good morning kiss to his cheek, then a thank you kiss to his lips. “I take my coffee black. I’m lactose intolerant, anyway.”

“Mm. Oh. Sorry for not waiting up on you to eat. I figured you’d make your breakfast order when you got up. You looked like you could really use the rest, and I was starving. I don’t mind cooking twice. Let me get something whipped up for you. What’ll it be? Tato hash? A nice big ‘Lurk omelette? Maybe some of my channel rat sausages--better than it sounds, I swear.” He leaned in to whisper. “Believe it or not, I’ve got a working waffle maker.”

“Oh, Mister Sticks.” ‘Choly wheezed, picking up on the husky playfulness. He picked up the mug to blow on it and sip as much as he could manage. “Really, don’t trouble yourself if you’ve already eaten. I’ve got my Melancholia.”

The ghoul shoved down making a weird face.

“What, that mouthwash stuff again? ...If that’s all you think you can stomach right now, suit yourself. Far be it for me to force fresh grub on you. Just let me know when you really do get hungry, and I’ll gladly oblige.” He tugged at the ushanka. “You really like that thing, huh.”

Having noticed the two had awoken, Angel came in to strip the now vacant bedding to wash next.

“Mister Carey has subsisted on that meal replacement for years at a time. If he were malnourished, the Pip-Boy’s health diagnostics would say so!”

‘Choly glanced to the Pip-Boy, and checked the vitals tab despite having avoided it all morning up until that point. He grunted as he glazed over the enumeration of what ailed him.

“Of all the things wrong with me, malnourishment is not one of them.” After downing half the coffee, he softened. “...And yes. Yes, I do. It’s... a comfort.”

“It’s yours, then. You’ll need it in a few weeks, that’s for sure. But for now...”

Sticks pulled off the ushanka and set it on the desk, to admire ‘Choly’s mess of hair. He leaned in, to see if ‘Choly would permit another kiss.

“I am most impressed with the craftsmanship Miss Bones put into your coat, Sir!” the Mister Handy continued through the open balcony door. “All the blood and grime just wipes right off, even after it’s dried overnight!”

“She must have had DWR on hand,” Sticks surmised, his posture squaring as he bristled. “They occasionally scav military materials like that. There’s a lot in Historic, and not just in Boott Mills.”

“Oh, do I ever commend her on that degree of attention! You’ll find I’ve got the blood out of all your effects. I always say, I know my way around a blood stain, laundry machines or no! Ha-Hah! But to have others looking out for your appearances as well! I’m not the only one keeping you looking Sharp, Sir.”

“Yes, well.” Sticks went out onto the balcony to pluck ‘Choly’s orthotics from the clothes line. He tossed them down on the bare mattress, and patted at the end of the bed with enthusiastic impatience. “Here, your braces and stuff are dry. Allow me to help you get nicely laced up for the day. Slumping over the desk like that can’t be good for your... anything.”

‘Choly shouldered off the robe into the chair as he stood, and permitted Sticks to help him into the orthotic corset. The ghoul was wearing the faded yellow longshoreman’s garb again, and he assumed Sticks typically favored it. He stiffened at the ghoul’s grazing touches, only to force himself to relax. He had to remind himself Bones wasn’t the one helping him dress. He expected Sticks to feel him up all the while, but beyond scrutinizing the evenness of lacing tension, such sensuality didn’t bubble up. Then Sticks knelt to help him with his wrists and ankles as well, with the gentleness of changing third degree dressings, and the chemist couldn’t help but wonder if he were just in the moment victim to wishful perverse thoughts.

Everyone seemed to have gained so much from the Battle of Lowell, except him. His efforts entitled him to a reward, right? The value of things didn’t feel like they measured up to what Sticks had achieved. Small and decrepit. For it all, he could only show some fancy garments, a book printing not even a full day old yet, and a repairman ghoul who couldn’t see people as anything but tools. Maybe a repairman could fix him.

“I do wish I had a wheelchair here.” His eyes remained on the open Merrick. “I’ll admit the stairs have been an obstacle.”

Sticks didn’t look up from putting socks on 'Choly’s feet.

“The only local place that might have one is underwater in crab country, unfortunately. Having one wouldn’t help you with the stairs, anyway.”

“I’m all right, being upstairs-bound, I suppose.” ‘Choly couldn’t help but frown somehow. He let the ghoul lace his ankle braces for him while he put his Pip-Boy back on. “There’s a bathroom on this floor, a balcony, and a bed... And you and Angel are both here to bring me anything I might need.”

All these things... but no chem setup.

“Angel...” ‘Choly gave it an uncertain wave. “Angel, bring over the binders Olivia gave you. I want to confirm they’re genuine.”

“...Of course, Sir,” it finally replied after a pause. When it complied, he got to skimming. Pensive, Angel’s tendrils curled up to its chassis. “A bit heavy for reading material so early, though, isn’t it?”

He leafed through the continuous stock and squirmed back into his robe, not bothering to unfurl the accordion-like mess. He nodded softly to himself stopping intermittently from resultant goosepimples, noting what details added up in his mind to legitimate federal-grade documentation. He straight up shivered understanding that this printout disclosed both MKEXCEL and MKEXCEED, seemingly in full.

Sticks yanked the chair back from the desk, with ‘Choly in it. He gave the dizzied chemist an intense glare.

“You can mess with all that later. Stop focusing on all the serious stuff for a minute. Nobody’s making you work. Relax already. I can’t handle all this moping. Let me... sweep you off your feet!”

Unexpected and unsolicited, Sticks scooped him up. 'Choly let out a tense bubbling laugh when the ghoul teetered slightly, seeming to sway a bit in the string instrumental on the Pip-Boy. He worried less that Sticks might drop him, and more that he hadn’t had any say in being picked up. He curled his face into the small of Sticks’s neck, and decided to pay little mind to where the ghoul might carry him. But then, the ghoul tossed his gun harness in his lap and took him downstairs, and he questioned whether it had been a fumbled attempt at romance at all.

Sticks set him down at a booth near the front door, to grab both their shoes. He handed ‘Choly his oxfords with a grin, then finished putting on his own boots.

“Let’s get out of Angel’s hair, huh?” Sticks swatted ‘Choly’s hands away from his shoes when he struggled longer than it took Sticks to put his own shoes on. “Just outside for a bit. Some fresh air.”

“I suppose if you can trust Angel to keep your house.” ‘Choly tied the robe tighter. “Shouldn’t I... get dressed, though?”

“Nonsense! It’s just you and me for at least a mile, in every direction. And it’s a nice, brisk day. You don’t need to worry your pretty little mess of a head, 'Choly. Here!” He handed ‘Choly his cane from the umbrella stand, and held up a wood from the golf bag ‘Choly had brought. “A little protection, between this and your... whatever-it-is gun.”

He frowned, then laughed.

“A wedge might serve you better, if you’re intending to hit things that aren’t golf balls.”

“Which one’s the--” ‘Choly got up and took the wood from him to put it back, then gave him another. “Ah, yes. The wedge.”

“Really doesn’t make all that much difference, since loft isn’t a factor,” he admitted, fastening his holster with a sneering grin. “I just don’t want you fucking up a perfectly good driver.”

“I’m hurt!” Sticks grabbed ‘Choly around the middle with his free hand, to dip him back a bit. “You think I’d damage an antique such as this?”

“Take it outside, Romeo.”

“Outside it is, then.”

Sticks held the door with a chivalrous bow. Once it shut, he trailed after ‘Choly and swept him into dancing in swirling tune with the radio across the balding green that was once the southernmost tail of the Heritage State Park. He slung the cane and club both to his back, so he could use both hands to guide ‘Choly. The two devolved into fumbling giggling in the crisp, clear autumn day. Sticks hoisted him up onto the concrete amphitheater stage, and joined him, swaying into a slow dance. ‘Choly melted into Sticks’s chest, listening to his heavy heartbeat. Eventually, he fell back into his worries as usual.

“Jacob,” he asked, cheek firmly against Sticks, “what happened this week was a good thing, right? Things are safe and stable now?”

As if on cue, the radio shifted over to play ‘Nearer, My God, to Thee.’ Sticks recoiled, but he insisted it was fine to leave it when ‘Choly went to just turn off a song the ghoul disliked. The ghoul pulled them both right back into dancing.

“Laverne used to run that broadcast,” Sticks said, distantly. “She loved songs that kept the apocalypse burning strong. They fed her Eyebot surveillance or something. But maybe she really is signing off once and for all.”

‘Choly had no idea what he was on about, but didn’t want to press him. All he could think of, in mentioning the Rust Devils’ leader, was Olivia, and how she’d produced decades upon decades of confidential military pharmacological research just like that. He hadn’t even gotten to any of it yet, but he had read the phrase ‘Defense Intelligence Agency’ too many times in skimming for him not to expect to find those files too, if he just looked. The DIA could no longer argue over its own existence, or concern itself with the grey area where civilian, military, and federal life overlapped.

What does it even mean, to be a war criminal these days, if there’s no one to try you?

“Of course it was a good thing,” Sticks finally barked with zeal. “It was a great thing! You can’t possibly assume total accountability for something as overarching as yesterday, C.O. or not. You can’t blame yourself for the whole shit show any more than I can blame myself. Your lot’s just you and me now. Now come on.” He shook him a bit and smiled down at him insistently. “Get out of your head already and cut loose. You can be present. I know you can.”

‘Choly surrendered with resistance. He wanted to start into Sticks for costing him Deenwood’s luxuries, but it struck him dumb to recognize that the ghoul had saved them both from the incomprehensible inhumanity of General Olivia Francis of the Deenwood Pharm Corps.

“I don’t need all those prewar amenities on base for my happily ever after. I’m slow dancing with the only important prewar relic I could ever need.”

Sticks’s grin grew dopey and squinted, and he stroked at the small of ‘Choly’s back.

“Makes two of us. We might’ve lost pretty much everything, but I’ve still got you. If that’s all right with you, anyway.”

“Only if it’s okay that I’ve got you.”

“I’m grateful, in a way, that you never told me you were into me before everything fell apart. All things considered, I would’ve spent two hundred years lacking you, and hurting even worse than I already have for it.”

‘Choly glanced up shyly before pressing his cheek back against him with a small grin.

“So we really are partners in crime, then.”

‘Choly murmured, comforted by the prospect of stability. He barely kept himself from reminding Sticks that he couldn’t remember whether he’d made ‘Choly’s heart flutter then, like it did now.

“For real, this time.”

They got lost in the music, in the euphoria of each other. Having Sticks to lean on, ‘Choly didn’t have to worry about his balance, or his constitution. Before ‘Choly could make sense of it, Sticks had already scooped him up and sprinted for the front door. A flurry of Merrilurks shrieked fast toward them. Sticks flung ‘Choly down on top of a booth table to free his hands to board up the door with a series of pulley mechanisms. Heaving, the ghoul took him up the stairs to the bed. He slammed the stairwell door shut and latched it, then watched from the East-facing windows in intent dread.

Go to Next »»»

[hostile-southern]

Addenda

I kept adding shit to what I wrote last night, which turned out to be much more mild than I thought. I haven’t read the additions, but I know my emotional state was worsening. So, I’m not looking forward to proofreading this...

Add: You know, my disease really, really sucks, and I get that it’s convenient for me to blame that for my cowardice or whatever. Maybe my Leo Friend even feels the same way about me! How twisted, how silly, how tragic… 

Does it really matter, though? We got to know each other; we got to make each other smile. If that was all that was meant to happen between us, then I’m not mad at it, and I’m going to live my life without regret. 

I’m going to be as happy as my circumstances will allow me to be, because I’m so much more than my circumstances! Yes, my disease has taken so much shit from me and will probably take more, but it can never have me. In that sense, I don’t belong to anywhere or anyone, and that’s fine.

I know I’ll leave a mark on this world. I don’t know how, but I will. So, I refuse to pity myself for more than a night.

Add2: Also, this isn’t about fear of rejection or thinking LF couldn’t handle every little part of me. The truth is I’m not strong enough to see him watch me fade away. I mean, friends and family are different, and I know I must seem selfish. I probably am, but I don’t care. I love love. It fucking pains me to admit I can’t express it in that way… I wish life was different, more fair, but it is what it is. 

I’m so sorry… I really am. It makes me wish I’d never been born, but that’s exactly why I must keep my feelings to myself, even if it’s eating away at me. I don’t know what LF would have said to me the day we met or tonight, but I do know whenever he spoke and looked at me tonight, I wished we were holding hands. I hate myself for not telling him and knowing I probably never will, because I’m weak–maybe not in every aspect or moment but certainly tonight.

Add3: I know this is a problem of my own making and a waste of my time, but my tears are real. I’m stable. I have friends and family who love me, including LF, and I’m not wanting to diminish that, which is probably a far better way to say everything I’ve already said in this post. I don’t feel sorry for myself in most of my time, and I hope no one else does, either. Actually, I don’t know what I want, and that’s swell. I’m still breathing; I’ll figure it out.

Today: Okay, well, that wasn’t as bad as I thought, right? I kinda thought I wanted to die last night, but sometimes, it’s good to be in our feelings--lets us know we’re alive. I kept it contained, didn’t text anybody in the moment, at least. I handled myself well, and I do deserve credit for that.

And, I feel better today. Writing as therapy has been a wonderful tool for me, and overall, I think I’ve remained true to myself. I fucking celebrate that.

[jodieshazel]

California Cannabis: In 2018, Resolve to Make Your Leases Better

Put your lease on the list!

With the New Year upon us and California cannabis legalization in full swing, now is the time for industry players to make sure they are poised to thrive in the world’s biggest legalized cannabis market. A critical element of that strategy for commercial tenants, as well as landlords, is making sure the real property chosen for operation is properly tailored to the intended use, and is flexible enough to anticipate various adverse scenarios that can and will arise in a dynamic and rapidly changing legal landscape.

A smart and practical New Year’s resolution would be to make sure your lease is buttoned up and ready to go for commercial cannabis in 2018. Here are some points to consider towards that end:

Stop using form leases. Yes, they’re easy and convenient, and checking boxes is certainly cheaper in the short term than writing a lease, but experience says one of two things will likely happen: either you will (1) end up spending just as much time writing addenda that cancel out, expand upon, or replace terms of the form lease, making it read more like a choose-your-own-adventure book that flips across chapters, or (2) you won’t, but you’ll be far more likely to run into costly problems down the road when you discover the lease is missing crucial pieces that would have helped you avoid a mess. Save yourself the trouble and plan ahead by working with an experienced real estate attorney who understands the proposed use and the industry in California, and can write a proper lease to fit the tenancy.

Specifically describe the permitted use and define applicable law. There are important legal consequences under state and federal law for adult use cannabis operations vs. medical operations, and the state’s regulations require specific authorization from the landlord for whatever license the tenant will obtain. And of course, there remains the issue of federal illegality overhanging everything. To save everyone time and headaches down the road, make sure the parties are in clear agreement on exactly what categories of licensed activity will be allowed under the tenancy, specify that in the lease, and restrict it to that use. Simply writing “cannabis” or the evasive “any use not in violation of law” will not suffice. When it comes to applicable law, local law and state regulations should be front and center, and there should be a carve-out for inconsistent federal law, lest a tenant be in violation of the lease from day one.

Keep it arm’s-length, or know the risks. Entanglement issues such as profit-sharing arrangements and equity-as-rent may be lucrative, but they require a higher risk tolerance. If a federal (or state) enforcement action occurs, the chances that the landlord will be considered part of the offending business may be higher than if the lease had been a traditional arm’s-length tenancy. Also, you might run into problems trying to enforce the lease if it amounts to asking the court to wade into cannabis business operations as opposed to enforcing an arm’s-length rent relationship.

Clarify insurance obligations and anticipate increased operating expenses. Regardless of whether the landlord or the tenancy will be responsible for maintaining and paying for building and property insurance, the parties should realize that: (1) cannabis tenants will have a hard time finding quality property insurance policies right now, and (2) any new or existing policy will likely be much more expensive when a cannabis use is added to the property. In practice, this means that the parties need to decide who will be required to obtain and maintain which kinds of coverages, what the policy limits will be, what happens if that doesn’t happen, and who will bear the increased cost if it does. If it’s a multi-tenant building where common operating expenses will increase disproportionately due to the new tenant’s cannabis use, the lease should account for that and adjust accordingly.

Do due diligence on the property first. Doing things like zoning and title analysis would more typically be associated with a new purchase than a lease. But with cannabis uses there are unique considerations that come into play, such as easements or CC&Rs that prohibit violation of “any laws”, water use rights (which will be a critical part of a state application, particularly for cultivators), and zoning restrictions. On that last item, it’s imperative that the proposed site not run afoul of local restrictions, and it behooves both the landlord and the tenant to have that issue ironed out before pen touches paper. The parties should consider including a due diligence period in the letter of intent, as well as including an early termination option for a variety of land use restrictions that could be triggered by cannabis use, including changes in zoning laws.

Consider the neighbors. We’ve discussed at length how RICO lawsuits have found their way into cannabis land use disputes, as well as nuisance claims, and how NIMBYism will likely play a role in the California cannabis saga just as it has in other states. But similar to a zoning and title analysis, parties looking to start a commercial cannabis tenancy can and should factor the neighbors into the equation before deciding to commit to a lease. This is particularly relevant for business parks or multi-tenant buildings with non-cannabis tenants that might complain about the effect of cannabis (odors or otherwise) on their business operations. Better to know now than 3 years into a 10-year lease term. The parties can also consider including an early termination option in the event that neighbors bring a civil action.

Consider the federal government. One of the most obvious reasons that form leases are wrong for cannabis tenancies is the failure to properly account for the fact that cannabis is still federally illegal, and the government can and does pursue civil asset forfeiture, putting the landlord at risk of losing the property over the tenant’s use. While there is no getting around the fact of federal illegality, one strategy is including early termination options for changes in federal law and/or enforcement guidelines, and for any forfeiture actions.

Anticipate the license timeline. California has just started issuing temporary licenses to applicants who already have local approval. While those have had a relatively quick turnaround, full annual license application review could take longer, and in any event, there is the possibility that the tenant will be denied a state license and/or local approval. This uncertainty can be built into the lease in terms of rent abatement and an early termination option, depending how confident the parties are that approval will be successful.

Make sure the occupancy plan stays legal. California’s new regulations dispensed with SB 94’s requirement that a licensee maintain “separate and distinct” premises for multiple licensed activities. However, licensed premises must still have a designated area dedicated to only one licensed activity at a time, with the exception of adult-use and medicinal operations being allowed to operate in the same place under certain circumstances. The new rules also contain a blanket prohibition on subletting of any licensed premises. This means that the parties should spell out in the lease exactly which activities will be conducted in which areas of the property. Whereas typical commercial tenants would have more or less free reign to use the leased premises however they choose as long as it’s within the permitted use, California’s new rules make this a more nuanced issue.

Choose the right law, venue, and dispute resolution process. Limiting interpretation and enforcement of the lease to California law, restricting venue to state courts, and including a well-drafted arbitration clause are all important aspects of a cannabis tenancy that are typically missing from a form lease.

As we watch California’s regulatory and licensing process play out, landlords and tenants with properly tailored leases and well-researched land use analyses will be more likely to succeed and thrive. Many of the potential problems with the leasehold interest will have been considered and averted.

In 2018, resolve to make your leases better.

from Canna Law Blog™ https://www.cannalawblog.com/california-commercial-cannabis-in-2018-resolve-to-make-your-leases-better/

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New Post has been published on http://www.buildercar.com/first-drive-2017-porsche-911-carrera-gts/

First Drive: 2017 Porsche 911 Carrera GTS

CAPE TOWN, South Africa — It’s tempting to compare the new 2017 Porsche 911 Carrera GTS to the last turbocharged rear-wheel drive 911 rated at 450 horsepower. Remember it? Yep, that’s right, the 993 GT2. You know, the gnarly homologation car with riveted-on wheel arches, a massive rear wing, and a reputation for hastening the claiming of life-insurance policies. (So the legend goes, anyway.) But this comparison would be absurd.

The 2017 911 GTS is way faster than that old car. The lightweight, hardcore, and edgy 993 GT2 would need somewhere north of 8 minutes to get around the Nürburgring. The new and eminently useable 991 GTS? Try 7 minutes, 26 seconds. Or, should you fit the optional new Pirelli P Zero Trofeo tires, make it 7 minutes, 22 seconds.

I’m going to reiterate how nuts this is because it’s worth processing the information. So here’s some more context: Today’s 911 GT3 RS with 500 hp and more aerodynamic addenda than star Formula 1 designer Adrian Newey’s go-kart — well, maybe not — beats the GTS by only 2 seconds at the ’Ring. And remember, the GTS is a sort of mid-range 911, designed to sit between the Carrera S and 911 Turbo. Pricing starts at $120,050 and might make you wonder why you’d ever need anything more. For a few dollars extra you can buy it as a four-wheel drive version. You know, a four-wheel drive, 450-hp, rear-engined Porsche. Like a Porsche 959. Only faster, naturally. Much faster.

In fact, the GTS can take many forms. Two- or four-wheel drive in coupe or Cabriolet body styles or an exclusively four-wheel-drive Targa model. As before, the GTS package consists of a number of mild upgrades, but previously those have resulted in a car that is greater than the sum of its parts. The latest model adopts forced induction for the first time in line with other 991.2 models, but it gets higher capacity turbochargers and a little more boost. The Sport Chrono package is included, allowing you to switch between Normal, Sport, Sport Plus, and Individual drive modes. Additionally, you can prime the car for a short burst of maximum acceleration by hitting the Sport Response button, essentially a push-to-pass function.

There’s also a sport exhaust and less sound deadening to enhance the car’s character. The 3.0-liter, twin-turbo, flat-six engine produces 450 hp at 6,500 rpm and 405 lb-ft of torque from 2,150 to 5,000 rpm. Throw in some sexy satin-black detailing and center-lock wheels, and you’ve got the GTS formula. However, you need to be picky to get the pure essence of the GTS. Go for a Cabriolet or Targa and you don’t get the 0.78-inch lower suspension, instead making do with the 0.39-inch lower PASM adaptable sport setup of the Carrera S. You need a coupe for the full experience then. In fact, you need a rear-drive coupe as it offers the more aggressive suspension, and it’s the only 911 to offer rear-wheel drive in combination with the 1.7-inch wider Carrera 4 bodyshell. Clear? Yes, picking your way through the 911 range isn’t the work of a moment these days.

For the record the Carrera 4 GTS starts at $126,950, the Cabriolet is $132,350, and the four-wheel drive Cabriolet and the Targa 4 GTS require $139,250. Rear-wheel steering and the torque-vectoring rear differential are additional options you might want to consider if you want the ultimate GTS spec. That Nürburgring lap time was set in a Carrera GTS so equipped and also benefitting from carbon-ceramic brakes and the PDK dual-clutch gearbox. We approve of the heinously expensive brakes as they improve ride quality, fade resistance, and increase agility by reducing unsprung weight and cutting rotational inertia. Don’t worry about PDK, though. It’s faster, sure, but as we’ve already discovered via that lap time, the GTS is so capable that giving away a tenth or two here or there isn’t really a problem, and the seven-speed manual ’box is, for many, more enjoyable to use.

A few laps of the fabulously disheveled Killarney Raceway near Cape Town, South Africa, prove the above conclusively. I try a PDK-equipped Carrera GTS, then a manual Carrera 4 GTS, and finally a Carrera GTS with a stick. The first few laps are as much about learning the track as the car, but the GTS immediately feels different to a standard Carrera. Those bigger turbos don’t seem to increase lag much at all, but they certainly give the engine a more ferocious and exciting top end. The 3.0-liter twin-turbo engine really wants to rev. Allied to the fabulously intuitive four-wheel steering system that works effectively to reduce understeer, the usual 911 traits of simply exceptional traction and an incredible sense of what the car is doing underneath you produce a devastatingly fast and precise package. The ride over ragged curbs seems pretty good too, though I suspect the coupe will ride firmly out on the street.

The second stint in the Carrera 4 GTS is equally enjoyable, maybe even more so. There are those who don’t care for all-wheel-drive 911s, but in this latest 991-generation platform I think they’re superb. There’s a shade more understeer but also a slightly looser feel to the car on the way into corners if you trail brake, and there is more of an opportunity to slide the car from mid-corner to exit. You need to react quickly to read the car, and it’s a slightly edgier experience on the limit (counter to what you might expect), but it’s so satisfying. And this car has a manual ’box, upping your work rate and massively increasing enjoyment. PDK might be faster but simply having to think about each gearshift makes you tune into the sounds and sensations the car provides.

The final few laps in the car with all the “right” pieces — rear drive, manual gearbox, rear steer, torque-vectoring differential — has me completely sold on the GTS, at least on the track. The engine really is fantastically angry and yet so precise in its delivery. The bangs and pops add to the excitement, and even the purist in me can admit that you rarely miss the smooth, sweet music of the old normally aspirated engine. Most of all, though, it’s the way the GTS uses its power that’s so impressive. It feels light on turn-in, neutral mid-corner, and so willing to adjust its balance to your whims. There’s just a magical fluidity to 911s, and the GTS is right on your side. I was concerned the wider track would enhance stability but reduce the trademark lithe agility, but the GTS confounds those expectations.

Sadly, we couldn’t try any coupe GTS models on the road, instead having to piece together the full picture with Cabriolet and Targa cars of various configuration and specification. If you were taking notes earlier you’ll remember these cars don’t feature the 0.78-inch lower suspension, which somewhat muddies the waters. The most representative car I could find was a rear-drive Cabriolet with a manual gearbox, and I have to say that winding up and over the Franschhoek Pass was pretty sensational. On the road you tune into the finer details, and I’m afraid the purist reappeared and did miss the honey-smooth howl of the old normally aspirated car. But judged against the standard Carrera and Carrera S models, there’s no question the GTS is faster and much more satisfying to rev out. Those bigger turbos just bring some attitude and sharpness.

I still miss the wriggling, writhing steering from 911s of old, too. But set against other electric power-steering systems, Porsche gets it mostly right. The GTS might not fizz with steering feedback, but there’s enough to feel immersed in the action — and to understand that on the road the GTS is well within itself and executing your demands perfectly. Grip levels are high, and yet the car doesn’t feel so locked-down that you lose interest. Porsche managed to balance outright ability and an inclusive, symbiotic feel like nobody else. And, of course, it nailed the details like brake feel and control weights. That’s why you should stick with the manual transmission, so you get to interact more with the car and appreciate its fine attention to detail.

The GTS is pretty damn compelling. A Carrera GTS isn’t quite as lunatic fast as a Turbo S but it’ll still hit 60 in 3.5 seconds (3.9 seconds for the manual) and exceed 190 mph. It’s not quite as agile or involving as a GT3, but it feels so at home on a track. In fact, it feels at home everywhere. Of course, this versatility is the very foundation of the 911’s appeal. The GTS package simply and expertly enhances its broad spread of talents. I suspect you’d feel at home in the 911 GTS too, wherever you live and maybe for the rest of time.

2017 Porsche 911 GTS Specifications

ON SALE Now PRICE $120,050 (base) ENGINE 3.0L twin turbo DOHC 24-valve flat-six/450 hp @ 6,500 rpm, 405 lb-ft @ 2,150-5,000 rpm TRANSMISSIONS 7-speed manual, 7-speed dual-clutch automatic LAYOUT 2-door, 4-passenger, rear-engine, RWD/AWD coupe or convertible EPA MILEAGE 18-20/26 mpg (city/hwy) L X W X H 178.3 x 77.9 x 51.0 in WHEELBASE 96.5 in WEIGHT 3,197-3,241 lb 0-60 MPH 3.5-3.9 sec TOP SPEED 192-193 mph

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