#although the convict seems to be showing signs of remorse

[redthemarten]

The punishment has been administered. Peace is restored.

[livelovesimallways]

To New Beginnings for The Muse Family....Pt. 5 (final)

(previous)

While the Muse family has had it’s fair share of drama, no one saw this rift coming. Moses always had a special love for both his aunt and uncle...creating a bond that was nearly impossible to break. Through all of their marital issues and Mason’s extramarital affairs, Moses never let his relationship with either one be affected. This time, however, Mason went too far. Although he cut his uncle out of his life, he never meant for it to be permanent. After several weeks of time alone and  mandated therapy, it seems as though Mason finally gets it and is sincere in his remorse. After apologizing to Vivian, he reached out to Moses again. Instead of calling back, Moses felt it was better to stop by.

“Sooo......” *after waiting for Mason to give him more than just a wassup*

*chuckles* “My bad...I’m just tryin to figure out how to apologize to my son for this mess.”

“Apologize to me for what? You gave one to Moms. She was the person that needed it.” 

“I know, but I always dragged you into my shit when I shouldn’t have. Pretending you were the one that had Cay pregnant?...That wasn’t right.”

“I mean, shit, I knew the risks. I was okay with it if it meant saving her from that pain. With the Cay thing, I fucked up by not telling Leah.” *adjusts his position* “Listen, all of that is “water under the bridge”. My main issue was with the Mike situation. She got hurt, physically. I couldn’t be around you after that.”

“Oh I understood...”

“I’m glad you did...” *slightly laughs* “...But nah, after seeing things for myself and talking to Leah and Moms, I realize it’s time to let it go. Plus, it looks like therapy did a number on you...the Teal Table Talk? You’re private as hell, Pops. Something must have really got to you.” 

“Yeah...every single thing I’ve put her through. I never stopped to think how bad my cheating and shit affected her. I gave zero fucks. Then trying to manipulate situations and messing up her relationship? Like she told me when we spoke, if I wasn’t happy and wanted something different, I should have let her go and left her the fuck alone.”

“She really told you that??” *laughs* “it’s about time.”

“Anyway....” *laughing* “So umm, since we’re good now, am I allowed to come to your wedding?” 

“Of course. I’ll text my planner to set you up with the tailor.”

“Aight, and since we’re on this topic, how are you feelin about everything? You ready for this?” 

“Yeah...I’ve been ready.” *with slight hesitation*

“You sure about that? I’m gonna need a little more conviction in your voice.”

“Nah, I’m definitely ready it’s just...I’m a little on edge.” 

“What do you mean by that?”

“I don’t know...I guess I’m a little worried that shit’s not gonna go the way we think. I’m seeing couples all over, divorcing after twenty-thirty years. Ones that you could look at and say that’s the type of marriage you want. The fact that I don’t know anybody whose marriage lasted doesn’t help either. Shit...You, Unc, Grandad, TJ...”

“Okay, but we’re horrible examples though.”

“Exactly my point. Not to mention, three of y’all are related to me. Shit makes me think I’m bound to fuck this up. Between all of that and signing the Pre-nup, I’m not as sure about this lasting as I was before. I’m tryin to “go gray” with her Pops. I don’t wanna start something just to have it fall apart years down the line.” *looks up at him* “...And why the hell are you smiling like that?”

“Because, I know that you and Leah are gonna be fine. I’ve never seen you nervous about anything. You can work with the top artists in the game, perform on stage, hit up the red carpet, and fly through interviews with no problem but this is getting to you? That alone shows how serious this is for you. I’m glad you realize marriage is forever and that she’s who you want to spend it with. A lot of people don’t realize that before hand, myself included. I was nineteen, son. We already had Nica, so I was determined to do the right thing. I didn’t think that far ahead. You can’t compare yourself to any of us or celebrities that only put out what they want you to see. You’re a stand up guy...Far better than me. Just remember that. Your father would be proud...and gloating.” 

*both laughing* “Thanks, Pops...You got me feelin a little better.”

“Good, now about that pre-nup?” 

“It’s pretty simple. I let her go with what she wanted first, and actually ended up convincing her to add more.”

“More???”

“It’s not what you think.” *laughing* “So, anything we have before the marriage is our own. All business ventures that we do afterwards and apart from each other is also our own. Basically, the only thing we will share is residential real estate. She didn’t want anything extra. I had to force her to accept a percentage and she wouldn’t go any higher than ten.”

“See, I knew there was a reason I liked her for you.” *smirking* “But nah, that just shows you she’s in it strictly for love. That’s rare, especially with our tax bracket. She’s just like...”

*cuts him off* “Definitely not Cay....”

“You know what???” *shakes his head* “Yeah, I gotta make better choices. Speaking of that, we have some visitors.” He says, as Micayla and Mikiyah run through the door.

Micayla: “I tried to stop her but she wouldn’t listen to me.”

Mason: “It’s okay sweetheart.”

Mikiyah: “I wan play now.” *walks up to Moses*

Moses: *picks her up* “So you just gonna demand it huh??” *tickles her* “What do you wanna play?”

Mikiyah: “Umm...store.”

Mason: “Yeah she bout to have you upstairs for a minute pushin her little shopping carts.” *laughing*

Moses: “It’s cool. I missed my littles.” *gets up and holds both of their hands* “I guess this is what I have to look forward to?”

Mason: “Yup. This and so much more.”

To Be Continued.....

Next

[myhauntedsalem]

13 of the Most Disturbing Last Words from Death Row Prisoners

Before execution, it is usually customary for condemned criminals to take the stage one last time and address the public with his or her final words. Whether it is a chilling statement aimed at shocking or upsetting those in attendance, a light-hearted statement that attempts get few chuckles or a final slap in the face of society, criminals throughout the years have had some pretty interesting things to say in the minutes prior to taking their final breath.

Here are the last words of 13 death row prisoners and the disturbing messages they chose to leave the world.

John Wayne Gacy

Last words: “Kiss my ass.”

John Wayne Gacy was convicted of the rape and murder of 33 men between 1972 and his arrest in 1978. The former children’s party entertainer became known as the “Killer Clown” because of the all the parties he attended in his clown suit and full-face makeup.

Gacy was executed by lethal injection just after midnight on May 10, 1994. When asked if he had any last words, Gacy is said to have snarled these three simple words.

Aileen Wuornos

Last words: “I’d just like to say I’m sailing with the rock, and I’ll be back like Independence Day, with Jesus June 6. Like the movie, big mother ship and all, I’ll be back.”

Aileen Wuornos, abandoned by her parents at a young age was working as a prostitute and robbing people to support herself by the time she became a teenager. In 1989 and 1990, Wuornos shot, killed and robbed at least six men. Arrested and tried in 1991 she received a total of six death sentences, earning her the inaccurate label by the press of being the first female American serial killer.

George Appel

Last words: “Well, gentlemen, you are about to see a baked Appel.”

Clearly keeping his sense of humor right until the last moment, this pun was to be the final words of convicted murderer George Appel before he was executed in the electric chair in New York in 1928 for the murder of a New York City police officer.

Peter Kürten  

Last words: “Tell me. After my head has been chopped off, will I still be able to hear, at least for a moment, the sound of my own blood gushing from the stump of my neck? That would be a pleasure to end all pleasures.”

Peter Kürten, or more commonly known as the “The Vampire of Dusseldorf,” is believed to have killed nearly 60 people in Germany. He beat, raped, and drank the blood of at least one of his victims. Kürten was executed by guillotine on July 2, 1931.

John Spenkelink  

Last words: “Capital punishment: them without the capital get the punishment.”

John Spenkelink was a drifter convicted of killing a traveling companion which he claimed was done in self-defense. Incidentally, he was also the first man put to be put to death in Florida after the U.S. Supreme Court reinstated capital punishment in 1976.

Barbara “Bloody Babs” Graham  

Last words: “Good people are always so sure they’re right.”

Barbara “Bloody Babs” Graham was a prostitute, drug addict and a murderess who was executed in the gas chamber at San Quentin in 1955 along with two accomplices. Graham beat an elderly woman to death when a robbery went bad. When she was strapped into the gas chamber by Joe Feretti, the man in charge of her execution, he told her, “Now take a deep breath and it won’t bother you” to which she responded, “How would you know?”

Gary Gilmore  

Last words: “Let’s do it!”

Convicted of killing a motel manager, Gary Gilmore’s was put to death in Utah on January 17, 1977, by a volunteer firing squad. He became the first person to be executed after the U.S. reinstated the death penalty in 1976, ending a 10-year lapse. Gilmore donated his organs and shortly after he was executed, two people received his corneas.

Notably, Gilmore gained further fame posthumously when advertising executive Dan Wieden credited Gilmore’s parting words as the inspiration for Nike’s tagline.

Carl Panzram  

Last words: “In my lifetime I have murdered 21 human beings, I have committed thousands of burglaries, robberies, larcenies, arsons and last but not least I have committed sodomy on more than 1,000 male human beings. For all these things, I am not in the least bit sorry.”

Carl Panzram was a serial killer, rapist, arsonist, and burglar who was hanged on September 5, 1930. Without ever showing any sign of remorse for his crimes, he refused to appeal his sentence, he even threatening to kill members of human rights groups who attempted to appeal on his behalf.

Defiant until the end, Panzram went on to tell his own executioner, “Hurry it up you Hoosier bastard! I could hang a dozen men while you’re screwing around.”

Timothy McVeigh

Last words: “I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.”

Timothy McVeigh is best known as the Oklahoma City bomber and was convicted of setting the bomb which killed 149 adults and 19 children at the federal building in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma on April 19, 1995. McVeigh had no final words before being executed by lethal injection on June 11, 2001, in Indiana. Although he did leave a handwritten statement quoting the last lines of the poem called Invictus by Sir William Ernest Henley.

James French

Last words: “How’s this for a headline? ‘French Fries.’”

James French was the last person to be executed by electric chair under Oklahoma’s death penalty on August 10, 1966. Already in prison for life, but allegedly afraid to commit suicide, French murdered his cellmate, apparently to compel the state to execute him.

Thomas J. Grasso  

Last words: “I did not get my spaghettiOs, I got spaghetti. I want the press to know this.”

Thomas J. Grasso was executed by lethal injection in Oklahoma for strangling an 87 year-old woman to death on Christmas Eve with her own Christmas lights, while stealing a television and $12. In the US, prisoners on death row are traditionally allowed anything they would like to eat for their last meal before they are executed. Grasso took this right very seriously. His last meal request was for two dozen steamed mussels, two dozen steamed clams (flavoured by a wedge of lemon), a double cheeseburger from Burger King, a half-dozen barbecued spare ribs, two strawberry milkshakes, one-half of a pumpkin pie with whipped cream, diced strawberries, and a 16-ounce can of SpaghettiOs with meatballs, served at room temperature.

Unfortunately for him, the length or complexity of his list seemed to confuse kitchen staff who made one crucial mistake and served him spaghetti instead of his SpaghettiOs.

Robert Alton Harris  

Last words: “You can be a king or a street sweeper, but everyone dances with the grim reaper.”

Robert Alton Harris was responsible for the murder of two teenage boys. In 1992, he was the first person to be executed in the state of California in decades. His last words were a misquote from the film Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey.

Tom “Black Jack” Ketchum

Last words: “I’ll be in hell before you start breakfast, boys. Let her rip!”

Tom “Black Jack” Ketchum, the infamous outlaw was finally caught after a failed train robbery. Sentenced to hang, Ketchum’s uttered these now famous words before his execution was horribly botched, and the noose cut his head clean off his body.

[pastelbatfandoms]

The Vampire Princess (An Evan Rose novel)

Read Chapter 1

Chapter 4

A moment later they are in a place that vaguely resembles Victorian,England. Levathia frowns as she takes in the rainy scenery.

"This my hometown. Back when I was human."

Levathia says looking back at Lex as He nods somberly. And all at once noticing his look she surveys the place in front,behind,all around her and knows-300 years into the future or not- that this is not what her old home should look like. Levathia sees withered,darkened trees and plants. Dead scorched roses outline the worn,chalky dirt road they are standing on. Old silver bullet shards had spilled onto the sopping brownish green grass. Lex starts to explain but Levathia puts up a hand.

"I want to see more before I get an explanation."

She says quietly.

They continue to walk down the trail and end up in a small town. But this town doesn't look as it should either. All around them,were crumbling buildings and Levathia noticed cobwebbed laces hanging from dilapidated houses.

She looked at the ramshackled houses and barren environment. A ghost town.

"Is this Evan Rose we're in?"

"Yes." Lex answers.

"What happened here?"

Levathia asks still showing no signs of breaking down. Lex takes a breath and then starts,

"Well in the 300 years you were gone there was a war. A Vampyre Werewolf war. As you know Were Wolves lived relatively peaceful in Evan Rose as long as they remained in the forest. But certain Vampyres didn't see it that way. They thought if Werewolves were born to be killer beasts then that's what they should be doing,killing. The Lycanthropes agreed,disgusted by their lesser cousins. Lowly animals. "Beasts with no brains." is what they called them.

The one who though this the most was Alucard. Prince Valenn's closest friend and right hand. He along with Valenn and an army of Vampyres and Lycans were the ones to ransack this village and the woods of Evan Rose."

Finished Lex looks over at Levathia. Who is listening to him a look of disdain,anger,betrayal and sadness washing over her fair features.

"So...Valenn..." Her voice quivers as she tries valiantly to control her emotions as red tears spill down her pale cheeks. "And Card did a-all this?" She stammers,choking on the words of the ramifications of what her former Lover,mentor as well as her closest confidant had done to her coven's village. She had been born a royal but reborn a Witch after her father had kicked her out. Before Shirowen took her. "How could they?! The Wolves weren't threatening them. The witches and humans had enough to deal with..." The words died on her tongue as a thought dawned on her. "My Coven,My Sisters..." She chokes. "Priestess Alexa,Madam May.." They had been more parent and family to her then her own. Lex shakes his head,sadly. The brim of his hat hiding his expression. "I'm sorry." He says in a low voice,full of remorse. "They were the first to go." "That is why he sent me away. Back to Shirowen." Levathia continues in dismay and anger. "He was using me the whole time. So he could have fresh humans to feed on,Witches to drain of power and Were Wolves to kill or control." It seems like a lifetime of silence,before Lex speaks up breaking it. "There is good news though. Well sort off." "Like what?" Levathia starts to snap at him then composes herself and looks up at him. "Sorry Lex what news?" Lex gives her a sympathetic smile. "A young Lycanthrope along with Vampire Hunters,who did not agree with the others side,defended The Weres and Witches,protected the humans that were still around. He won as he was younger,faster and fiercer in his convictions then the others. Valenn & Alucard got away but not without a few wounds." Levathia couldn't help but smirk at that. "He is now in another part of the world with the Were Wolves." Lex finished. "Is that all you know about him?" Levathia asks curiously. "Other than he was about 6'1" and muscular,yes that is all. Oh and he left behind this." Lex snaps his fingers and produces a silver eye mask. Handing it to Levathia. She frowns looking at it. "I've never heard of him or this war. I suppose Shirowen hid it from me best he could. Bastard." Her blue eyes narrowed. "Levathia,that is not all." Lex informs her. Levathia looks at him to continue.   "Although the lycan left with the wolves. He did not get the humans,thinking they would be fine with the vampire hunters and witches. But soon some of the humans began to change into Zombies. Thanks to a Gargoyle Sorceress named Abigail." Levathia nods in recognition of the female Gargoyle she had seen in human form,after losing her own powers,serving Shirowen. "The hunters were no match for Necromancy and the witches powers too depleted after the previous battle,they all ended up dead. At first there was nothing but Zombies and petty thieves roaming around." Lex continued," But then a group of mercenaries came led by a very shrewd and sly leader-" Before he can finish Levathia notices a shadow atop a rooftop. Raising a bow. "Lex!" Levathia cries as an arrow flys,Levathia catches in mid air before it can pierce Lex. There is a card stuck to the tip of the arrow. Levathia unsticks the card and throws the arrow down. She turns the back card over,fingering it with the tip of one blood red nail. It is an Ace of spades. or swords in Tarot. Levathia's eyes flash. "Nicodemus." She hisses angrily. Crumpling the card in a ball with one slender hand. "Levathia we need a place to rest before we continue on." Lex says,clearly unfazed by the arrow that barely missed him. "Whaddya say?" "I say lead the way." Levathia replies,taking Lex's outstretched hand. The story momentarily forgotten.

Chapter 5

[xdaughter-of-bloodyfacex]

Serial Killers and Their Kids: It’s Complicated

Some offenders who harm others protect their own—others include them.

The offspring of serial killers used to shun media attention. Some changed their last names or went into hiding, and many asked a friend or relative to screen all communications. Recently, we’ve heard from a few in books and on podcasts and talk shows. After their criminal parent’s double life was exposed, many wondered just what this predator had actually felt for them.

How serial killers view their own children turns out to be complicated. I’ve seen comments from enough of those with families (and from family members) to form some basic categories: 1) they care about and protect them, 2) they include them in the crimes, 3) they kill them, and 4) they maintain the deception. 

Let’s look at some examples of each.

1. They care about their kids.

When Israel Keyes was caught after murdering a young woman in Alaska, he knew that he’d be linked to a double homicide as well. He had more to say and he wanted to trade it in a deal that would protect his young daughter. “I want an execution date,” he told officers. “I want this whole thing wrapped up and over with as soon as possible. I’ll give you every single gory detail you want, but that’s what I want because I want my kid to have a chance to grow up… and not have all this hanging over her head.”

Dennis Rader, too, was concerned about his son and daughter when he was arrested in 2005 as the “BTK” serial killer in Wichita. He said he knew he’d made them suffer and he wanted to prevent them from further harm. (Even so, at his sentencing hearing, he dehumanized them by calling them “social contacts” and “pawns,” which infuriated his daughter, Kerri. (I reviewed her book here.)

Kerri looks back on things her father had said that now have new meaning. What had once seemed like loving advice about deflecting intruders, for example, now rang with a sinister tone: he’d described what would deflect him. “It’s horrible to realize that as my dad was raising children,” Kerri writes, “he chose to take another mother away from her own children. He was about to have a daughter, yet took two more daughters away from their families.”

Although Albert Fish molested and murdered kids, he raised six of his own as a single parent, seemingly without harm. When he was tried for the murder and dismemberment of Grace Budd, his children testified. They thought he’d loved them, but none had guessed the extent of his problems. Observing aspects of his odd deviancy, they’d thought him merely eccentric. None reported abuse.

2. They included their kids.

Sante Kimes was a born con artist, and even got her two sons involved in her criminal schemes. Kent Walker, her oldest, describes life with Sante in Son of a Grifter, in which he sorts through why he ultimately rejected her while his younger half-brother Kenny went along with the crimes. Sante and Kenny came to national attention with the disappearance of a wealthy philanthropist, Irene Silverman, from her Upper East Side home in Manhattan. They’d finagled a real estate document with Silverman's signature on it, but the notary public would not sign it. Soon, Sante and Kenny were arrested. A search of their stolen Lincoln Town Car turned up Silverman's passport, a pair of handcuffs, several syringes, a handgun, stun guns, wigs, and papers that suggested they’d done away with Silverman. Kenny described how they'd done it together. They were convicted of her murder in New York, as well as for the murder of David Kazdin in California. Kenny also confessed to the murder of a man in the Bahamas. Joseph Kallinger killed one of his sons for insurance money and coerced others to get involved with his criminal acts. He and his fifteen-year-old son Michael were suspects in a seven-week, three-state crime spree that involved robbery, rape, and murder. Their fingerprints were matched to those found in one of the homes, and the victims identified them. Kallinger was convicted of multiple crimes. Police suspected that he’d taken his son Jimmy on at least one of these expeditions.

3. They killed their kids.

Indiana’s Belle Gunness and England’s Mary Ann Cotton are among those mothers who murdered their kids for insurance money. A few others, like Marie Noe, had mental health issues. Stacey Castor tried to kill her daughter to stage a suicide, hoping she could pin the murders of two men on the girl. Gary Ridgway, the “Green River Killer,” came close to murder, but for a different reason.He used the fact that he had a son to make his potential targets feel comfortable. He’d flash his wallet to make the boy’s picture visible. If he brought a woman home, he’d show her his son’s room. "They look in the bedrooms, nobody's in there," he told investigators. "There's my son's room, hey, this guy has a son, he's not gonna hurt, anybody."

In 1982, Ridgway picked up a woman while the 7-year-old son was in his truck. Ridgway was in the mood to kill, so he found a wooded area and parked. He got out, let the woman out and left his son in the truck. He guided the woman to an area that he believed was beyond his son’s line of sight. After sex, he killed her, leaving her corpse in the woods. He told his son that she’d decided to walk home. Another time, while his son slept in the truck, he found the decomposing corpse of one of his victims and had sex with it.

Two decades later, Ridgway told a psychologist that he was sorry about that episode. When the psychologist asked what he’d have done if his son had gotten out and seen him, Ridgway denied that he’d have killed the boy, but then hedged: "No, probably not, I don't know." He admitted it was possible. He'd considered it.

4. They maintain the deception.

Several offspring of serial killers have told me that they cannot have a relationship with their criminal parent, because they can't trust them. They've been betrayed and even after the parent went to prison, he or she continued to scam or lie to them.

Yet some cling to hope. The daughter of a man who’d killed 13 prostitutes claimed that he was sincerely remorseful, which made it possible for her to feel close to him as a daughter. Yet he'd told her he had a disorder that blocked him from feeling remorse. She didn’t know what this meant, but she believed he was now a good man. That’s the kind of naiveté that psychopaths exploit. From what I knew of his lifelong duplicity, I doubted he'd changed—especially if he used a disorder as an excuse.

Even those who care about their kids have lived secret criminal lives for so long that they might be unable to care the way they think they can. Israel Keyes killed himself when he couldn't get the deal, ensuring a public legacy that will always hang over his daughter’s head. The entire time he was committing his well-planned murders, he had to realize that if he got caught, he’d be exposing her to what he'd done. His life of crime was entirely narcissistic.

Rader, too, lacked appreciation for the harm his crimes would cause his children if he got caught. When I suggested that even the decision to kill undermined his avowed love for his family, he bristled. To him, it was simple: “It didn’t occur to me that they’d be hurt, because I didn’t expect to be caught.”

[honeymoonjin]

A/N: it came early! I was meant to publish this on the sixth but I’m just too excited to share it with you all :) Hope you enjoy!

Synposis: Your boyfriend, Kim Namjoon, has gone missing. After acting erratic for a few weeks, spending all his time locked away in his studio, he suddenly vanishes into thin air, leaving only an unreleased album behind. Zodiac. 

chapter one - if there is one to be sought, it is he

“Did your boyfriend seem like the type to just up and leave?”

When the police had asked you that question less than two hours ago, you had immediately said no. Now you weren’t so sure.

You hadn’t seen him in over a week, but he had only been officially reported missing since this morning, and so, after contacting the police, your next pitstop had been the place he was holed up in all that time.

His studio was on the second floor of the Cypher Ent. headquarters, and although you knew the password to get in, you had never actually used it before. Namjoon liked to work alone and for long bouts of time. Early on in your relationship, when you were just starting to get serious, he had asked you not to visit him at work so that his work flow wouldn’t get disrupted, and you had respected that these past three and a half years. He was extremely gifted, a hard worker, and very successful, so you knew that if you wanted a relationship with him, you’d have to make those kinds of compromises.

Now, though, after all that had happened that day, you spared no second thoughts to letting yourself inside. There were no security cameras in the room, and the CCTV footage in the building had already been checked, showing him enter last Wednesday, and never exit. Yet when his younger brother Taehyung had stopped by to surprise him with a new painting he had just made for the studio, there was no one there.

It smells like him in here. It was often that he’d practically live in the studio, and so it didn’t surprise you to see that he had set up a fold-out couch and a little dresser with clothes and some toiletries. The rest of the room was dedicated to business; every square inch covered in producing equipment, strewn papers and post-it notes, a mess that was typical of an artist.

You got out your phone and dialed his number once more, something you had done over fifty times today, just in case. Nothing. Feeling the strange floaty apathy of shock, you pulled up his desk chair and booted up his computer on the main desk.

The log-in screen pulled up; his icon the cover of the album he released last year. There was a password required and no hint given. You sigh and tip your head back against the chair, drumming your fingers.

You knew his phone password was your birthday; he had told you once when he was completely drunk at a house party, and although you had let him know the next day in case he wanted to change it to keep it private, he told you he liked it that way.

But after typing your birthday in every arrangement you could think of to no avail, you gave up that avenue. Of course it would be something difficult. You didn’t know anyone more secretive than Namjoon and his other friends who were music producers. Keeping your beats and hooks on lockdown while they were being worked on was the only way to prevent plagiarism, and they took it extremely seriously.

The password was probably a random string of letters so as to be unguessable. That meant he had to have it written down somewhere, otherwise he’d forget it. In the end, it took you almost fifteen minutes of sifting around his stuff before you picked up an old polaroid of the two of you, only to notice a symbol he had drawn on the back in a red pen. You frowned, staring at the M-like shape with an extra hook on the end. It was…a star sign? Joon was a virgo, perhaps this was the virgo sign? You knew it wasn’t your star sign, and you didn’t know what else it would be.

Seriously doubting it would work, you scoot back over to the computer and type in virgo, pressing enter and straightening up in shock when it actually works. Namjoon had never been one of those star sign fanatics, or at least you didn’t think he was.

When his desktop appears, you pause again. Sure, you had never been in here, but you had seen his personal laptop several times, and you knew that he was the type of guy to have a completely cluttered desktop filled with shameless porn folders, random screenshots, and a million and one files he had named with key smashes.

Seeing a completely empty desktop was not right. You grabbed the wireless mouse and began trawling through his computer, but not coming across a single document, mp3, or even any browsing history on Chrome. It had been totally hollowed out.

That was, except for a little flashing red light sticking out the side of the monitor. A flash drive. You take it out and plug it back in, and a notification pops up, giving you the option to open the contents of the flash drive, which you do.

One folder, thirteen tracks. It was an album.

You let the cursor hover over the first track, pondering why this was all he had left. Was he clearing everything up and forgot it? But you didn’t recognize these titles, which meant it was new work. He always turned on some form of hyper-focus and obsession when he produced new tracks, there was no way he’d accidentally leave it. There must be a re-

You jump in your seat as your phone vibrates in your pocket. You pull it out. It’s a text from Taehyung, who’s been messaging you almost constantly since this morning, frantic with worry where you’ve become despondent with shock.

They’ve assigned detectives now, two of them. They should be almost at the studio to look over the place. I’ll be there once I’ve finished my statement. We’ll find him, Y/n <3

Your heart skips a beat again when all of a sudden you hear footsteps coming to a crescendo outside the studio. A solid three raps land on the closed door.

You bite your lip, hesitate for a moment, then tug the USB out and stash it in your pocket.

“I’ve already talked to the police.” You stare at the two detectives across from you. They must be around your age, with unblemished skin and glossy hair, but their eyes are hard and determined. You can tell from those eyes that they’ve both seen enough horror to last a lifetime.

The taller detective with chestnut hair, Jeon you think it was, lets his eyes trail over the studio as the other, Detective Park, crouches on the floor, rifling through the drawers of your boyfriend’s heavy mahogany desk. He flickers his gaze over to you with slightly narrowed eyes. “I’m aware. Park and I are simply investigating all possibilities at this stage. I find it’s preferable to speak with the persons involved myself, rather than reading a transcript. It won’t be a bother, I assume?”

The small solid device in your pocket digs in as you sit on Namjoon’s office chair. “It’s fine.”

Detective Park stands up, slipping Namjoon’s spare hair brush into a plastic bag with blue-gloved hands. “We know it must be awfully hard for you to keep talking about it, but we’re just trying to do our job, Miss.”

“I know that,” you snap back, then take a calming breath. “Sorry, I just…all of this hasn’t really sunk in yet, and I’m a little scared of what’s going to happen when it does. I feel barely functional right now as it is.”

Jeon clears his throat stiffly, working his tense jaw. “Right, then, let’s get on with this. Were you and Mr. Kim having any relationship issues prior to his disappearance?”

“No,” you answer automatically.

“But you hadn’t seen him for a week before he went missing?”

You curse yourself for shifting awkwardly under the man’s intense gaze. “Well, no, b-”

“His friend, Mr. Jung, said that he very rarely went home, and that he would often make up excuses to hang around the studio longer.”

Your lips part a little. “…I didn’t know that.” You take another deep breath, puffing out your cheeks. “I just always thought he was a workaholic. He told me he was busy, I didn’t…If we were having relationship problems, he never thought to tell me that.”

Jeon has the dignity to look a little remorseful for being so harsh, and he steps away from you, gesturing with a tip of the head for his partner to take over.

Park pats down his trousers and rests his butt against the edge of Namjoon’s desk, placing himself beside you. “Listen, Y/n- I can call you Y/n, right? Good. Well, normally we aren’t so frank with the victim’s loved ones, but I think you could really help us-”

“Don’t, Jimin,” Detective Jeon warned, “you’re not meant to give that kind of information away.”

The rosy-haired detective shook his head. “I get that, but we need her.”

You glance back and forth between them, unable to decipher the silent conversation. “What? Need me for what?”

After an entreating gaze from his partner, Jeon turns to you, hands in his trouser pockets. “We’ve arrested a suspect,” he admits, “we’re still in the middle of questioning, and he doesn’t seem interested in giving us any information on Mr. Kim’s whereabouts, but the details certainly add up. We can’t say anything for sure yet, but…”

“It’s promising,” Detective Park finishes softly, giving you a warm smile.

You almost can’t believe your eyes. “Are you serious? Already?”

Jeon shrugs. “This guy has it all. Motive, no alibi, has been in the area over the past week, previous convictions. We just need to get him to talk.”

Park nods and places a hand on your shoulder. “Which is where you come in, I’m afraid.”

“I don’t understand,” you confess, “what do I have to do with any of this? And who’s the guy who did it?”

Jeon sighs, tensing his jaw. “Mr. Min Yoongi. And he says he’ll only talk to you.”

TAGLIST Message me or send in an ask if you wish to be added to the taglist. You’ll receive a notification every time I update ZODIAC.

[candrawithwip]

Missing You

NOTE: This is just a completely self-indulgent fan-fiction I wrote for the invisible!Snufkin au and finally got around to uploading. I read this fic before writing so there might be a few unintentional parallels. I’m linking it either way because it’s a good read so check it out.

It had been a foggy night in the mountains; the dense clouds had descended from the heavens and blanketed the earth in a heavy white mist, which had made it difficult for Snufkin to see. He took a deep breath of night air and pitched his tent in a clearing, resolving to continue his journey by the morning, but when the dawn broke he had exited his tent to find the fog still hadn't lifted. He had paused for a moment, noting that the forest was unusually silent, before shrugging it off and packing up his tent. With his things packed, he started off on the mountain trail, but as he wandered between the towering pines there had been a sense of unease growing within him; a feeling that be had been able to brush off until he stumbled across the ashes of a burnt out campfire. His campfire, the one from the night before. He shook his head: there was no way he had gotten turned around, so perhaps he was mistaken. It had to be another camp site, left by some other traveler passing through the area. With a little conviction, he started back down the trail only to find himself back in the same place no more than half an hour later. He tried to remember what had happened next, but all he could remember was running. Just running with no real destination, terrified and alone. He had heard some voice far off in the fog, or perhaps in the back of his head, telling him that he should just give up, but he knew he couldn't stop. He wasn't sure when he had lost track of time, when things stopped making sense, when the running had slowed into walking, when he had started to dissapear into nothingess... he didn't even know how long he had been there, but he could feel that it had been a long time.

He blinked and looked up into the branches of a nearby tree, where a bird was singing. It was like he had just woken up from a dream, and only now was time catching up with him. The fog had left just as quickly as it had rolled in, seemingly out of nowhere and in such a way that he didn't even realize it at first. He had felt the wind tugging at his hat and noticed the clear sunlight dancing on the forest floor and as he walked, things had slowly started coming back to him. Suddenly he could hear voices, and noticed a gap in the trees in front of him; a trail. Snufkin cautiously made his way down to the edge of the dirt path and peered out from between the trees. Two hemulen were traveling down the road, chatting about a harvest and a couple other things. They didn't notice his backpack hovering above the ground or the shadow he cast on the rocks, the only signs of his presence. They simply continued on their way, chatting about this and that, but as they were about to turn a corner, Snufkin heard one of them mention the date. He dropped to his knees.

...

Moominmamma ran a wet dishrag over the smooth surface of a freshly cleaned plate before setting it to the side to dry under a warm beam of sunlight that fell onto the countertop through the window. They were a week into spring, and things were much the same as the two prior; Snufkin was nowhere to be found. She frowned and wiped her hands on her apron.

The first year had been difficult; at first Moomintroll had waited patiently as always, but as the days turned to weeks and it became clearer an clearer that Snufkin wasn't coming, he had become more and more despondent. They were finally able to bring his spirits back through constant reassurances that Snufkin would surely come next year, but they were all talking through clenched teeth. There wasn't any guarantee that he'd come back, and although they all experienced varying degrees of concern for his wellbeing in general, nobody shared the sentiment aloud: only through silent, knowing glances at one another when the subject came up. The hardships of the first year, however, were nothing compared to the second.

Moomintroll had waited in apprehension, and nobody had the heart to tell him he should stop waiting. It was finally little My that approached him on the subject, but the exchange went poorly. They rest of the family had watched from the porch as the two of them talked until the conversation abruptly ended with Moomintroll getting up, running past them into the house, sprinting upstairs to his room, and locking the door behind him. When little My finally made her way back to the porch Moominmamma had tried to ask her what had happened, but she refused to say much except "He's useless, he'll just have to get over it." She had reached out a hand to stop her, to remind her how important Snufkin was to Moomin; how important he was to all of them, but she stopped when she noticed that My was biting her lower lip. It wasn't something words could fix, but something had to be said, even if that wasn't her strong suit.

He had stayed locked in his room for three days after that, and it wasn't until My finally pushed her chair back from the table at breakfast one morning and kicked his door open that they were able to turn things around. They made excuses to get him out of the house, picnics at the beach, mushroom picking, gardening, whatever worked. She could still see the sadness in his eyes, but he was doing alright by the time winter rolled around. They took care not to mention Snufkin around Moomin, but when he and My were in bed, Moominpappa and Moominmamma had talked about it. Just wondering where he was, if he was okay, and if he'd ever come back.

Turning away from her dishes and returning to the moment, Moominmamma looked at My who was sitting on the table and cleaning some mushrooms. "Hurry and get your tackle son, I have a feeling the fish will be jumping into our boat this fine morning!" she heard Moominpappa say loudly from the living room.

"Yeah, that's what you said last year, but we barely caught enough for dinner." Moomintroll responded somewhat sarcastically.

"That was last year, and today I'm sure of it! It'll be a feast, and even then, it's the adventure that counts!" Moominpappa responded with a chuckle.

Moominmamma stepped into the livingroom to see her husband standing confidently with his hands firmly on his hips, and Moomintroll staring at him sceptically. She walked over to give both of them and gave them both a kiss on the cheek "Just be carful dears, and when you get back two days from now, I'll be sure dinner is lovely either way."

"Yeah, because I'll be helping." little My chimed in from the kitchen.

...

Snufkin walked slowly down the familiar path to Moominvalley, looking down at where his boots should be. What would he say? What could he say? His heart was heavy with fear and remorse. He had heard tales of travelers dissappearing into the woods for years, only to show back up with no explanation as to where they were or what had happened to them. He had thought it a tall tale made up by unseasoned adventurers who got caught up in their wanderings and had no good excuse for their friends and families back home, but now he knew better.

It was obvious that it wasn't his fault, he knew that, but he had still broken his promise. The thought of their angry or saddened expressions was like a stabbing pain in his heart, but what scared him more was the thought of turning around and returning to the mountains. He needed to see someone, to talk to someone, to make sure he was still real. He had almost given up on everything and he needed to know that it wasn't just a dream, that he wasn't still trapped in that haze just tricking himself into believing he was finally free. He sighed and placed a hand on his chest... if it was a dream, couldn't it be a better one? He thought about pulling out his harmonica, but he didn't have it in him. When he looked up he could see a familiar sight in the distance. The tall house on the hill, smoke coming up from the chiminey, a small river with lush green banks, and a small bridge to cross over on. He knew Moomin wouldn't be there waiting for him, but the confirmation still hurt.

He eventually made his way quietly down to the tree-line where a soft breeze rustled his hair. He stood there awhile, just absorbing the scenery, trying to think of different ways he could apologize, but nothing came to him. He started for the bridge but with every step, his grip on his backpack straps tightened and he started to shake. He dug his nails into his palms and after a moment, he turned to the familiar tree where he used to camp and began to unpack. Tomorrow maybe.

It had only been half an hour when little My walked out onto the porch, on her way to fetch something from the garden, and noticed the tent across the river. He eyes widened. There was no way, but what if it was? Slowly she made her way to the campsite. Snufkin, who had been gathering material for a fire, quickly dropped the handful of sticks and stepped closer to the tent so that his shadow wouldn't be visible. It seemed little My hadn't changed much in the time he was gone, he thought to himself. She looked around awhile, prodding and poking at things, but soon it became clear that she wouldn't find anyone. Huffing, she turned around and trotted back to the house, where Moominmamma was preparing a small dinner for the two of them.

"There's a tent out on Snufkin's campsite." little My stated matter-of-factly as she walked into the kitchen, and Moominmamma dashed to the window to look, "I wouldn't get too excited, I couldn't find anyone."

"What do you mean?" Moominmamma asked as she looked at the campsite.

"I mean there's nobody there. I looked inside and everything. I guess they're off somewhere." My responded.

"That's very impolite My, you shouldn't look inside other peoples tents." Moominmamma remarked, scanning over the empty camp. "I must talk to them about camping elsewhere-"

"because if Moomintroll saw it would be bad?" My interjected, to which Moominmamma nodded slowly. "What if it's him?" She asked after a moment of silence.

"Then how wonderful it would be..." Moominmamma said with a soft, sad voice. She served dinner and the two of them chatted idly, every once and awhile glancing out the window only to see nothing.

When night had finally fallen and My had gone to bed, Moominmamma made her way to her bedroom window and drew the blinds, peering out into the darkness where she noticed that a fire was burning. She squinted and for a moment she thought she could see a shadow on the edge of the light, but she couldn't be sure. She watched for awhile more before closing the curtains and climbing under the covers. She had no way of knowing, but as she looked at that shadow, he had been looking back at her.

...

When the sun rose over the horizon the following morning, Moominmamma was out of bed bright and early, cutting up fresh vegetables and cheese for a plate of sandwiches. little My walked downstairs, rubbing her eyes. "Is that breakfast?" she asked.

"Not quite." Moominmamma responded, "Go fetch some eggs down the way." she hummed while slicing the sandwiches in half.

"Why do I need to do such a thing?" little My responded.

"It's the only way you'll be getting pancakes and jam this morning." Moominmamma noted without turning away from her work. She could hear little My hesitating for a moment before leaving the kitchen.

"I want them extra fluffy." she shouted as she headed out the front door. Moominmamma watched her go from the kitchen window before picking up the plate of sandwiches and heading out herself.

The morning was pleasantly cool, birds were singing happily, and the wind was gently blowing over the grass. She smiled as she headed down the path to the bridge and watched dragonflies dart across the water. Halfway across the bridge, she stopped to sit and placed the sandwiches next to her. Snufkin watched quietly from the shade next to his tent, not entirely sure what he should do. She seemed to listen for awhile before speaking.

"Oh dear, it seems I've made too many sandwiches to finish on my own. It will be awhile before little My returns with the eggs, and neither Moomintroll nor Moominpappa are here to enjoy them either. I wonder if there's anyone nearby who might be interested in taking a few off of my hands?" she said, playfully. Snufkin looked down at his hands, but nervously and slowly got up and approached her. She could hear the footsteps and see the shadow before he reached her, but she pretended not to notice. He sat down next to her and reached for a sandwich, slowly lifting it off the plate.

Gently, she moved her hand out and touched his wrist, and he didn't pull away. She reached up until she could feel the brim of his hat, and it was then that she was sure. Grabbing his wrist, she pulled him close and wrapped her arms around him. "Where in the world have you been? We've been worried to death." She said, her voice full of emotion.

"I'm sorry I-" his voice barely came out, less than a whisper, but she stopped him.

"It's alright, it doesn't matter. You're not hurt are you?" she said softly, and she could feel his shake his head in affirmation. "Come inside for some real breakfast. I'll be making pancakes and jam. It will be the best thing you've eaten in a long while I promise, and I'll get you something to wear as well, something warm." tears filled Snufkin’s eye's as he pressed his forehead into her shoulder and nodded

Holding his wrist, she gently led him back to the house and sat him down at the table. She somehow managed to finish a hat that was nearly identical to Snufkin's old one by the time My had returned to the house with a small basket of eggs. Seeing the floating green hat in the kitchen, she nearly ruined breakfast, but stopped short of entirely dropping the basket and breaking all the eggs.

"Snufkin?!" My exclaimed, as Moominmamma came and gently took the eggs from her.

"Would you like to help me with these pancakes My?" she asked. little My just stood there, mouth open, eyes wide, starting at Snufkin while a huge grin began to spread across her face.

"When Moomin sees you he'll be downright insufferable." she laughed, "He's not going to believe it!"

"He's not... mad?" Snufkin whispered, his voice trembling.

"What? Moomintroll? Since when has he been capable of seriously getting mad at you?" she scoffed, "We must be talking about different Moomintrolls."

"I... I didn't... keep my promise." Snufkin said softly, turning his eyes to the floor.

"You seriously believe he'd be mad about that? He's done nothing but worry about you, it was unbelievable. I could barely stand him." she said cheekily.

"Where... is he?" Snufkin asked, looking at Moominmamma.

"Moominpappa took him out fishing yesterday, and they'll be back tomorrow morning. Would you like some blueberries as well?" she asked, setting a plate of pancakes down in front of Snufkin, as well as a plate for little My who jumped up into the chair and began eating with a grin still plastered on her face. Snufkin thought silently and shook his head, beginning to eat.

When breakfast was over he curled up on the loveseat in the living room as Moominmamma began work on a tunic, scarf, and pants for Snufkin. There wasn't much she could do in way of boots, but she was already doing much more for him than he felt necessary. Still, he appreciated the gesture, and watched her work in a comfortable silence. He appreciated the company, and for the first time in a long time, he felt a measure of peace. When she noticed his hat had fallen to the floor and the indentation on the cushions, she pulled a blanket from the back of her chair and lied it across him. Continuing to work as he slept.

...

Over the course of an afternoon, Moominmamma had finished Snufkin's new outfit. It was much the same in appearance, but less worn and noticeably warmer. He looked down at his hands, now visible after having slept peacefully for the first time in years. He could see the scars and scratches on his palms, a byproduct of the many times he fallen in the mountains out of pure exhaustion; trapped in that unending fog. He was sure that Moominmamma had seen them, but she hadn't asked about them, and he was glad of that. He still wasn't quite sure how to explain what had happened, but he would. He couldn't afford to worry about that now though, as there were other things to deal with first.

Moominpappa and Moomintroll would be returning today, and Snufkin had no idea what to do aside from wait. It was as if they'd traded places, as Snufkin was now the one waiting quietly on the bridge. He laughed softly at the thought. When he looked up from his hands he could have sworn he saw little My hiding somewhere in the bushes further downstream, which didn't surprise him in the slightest. She could never mind her own business, always being the first to insert herself into situations that didn't really involve her, but knowing she was there put him at ease. They had assured him Moomintroll wouldn't be mad, but he was still frightened and knowing someone was nearby took a bit of the pressure off. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the breeze. When he could finally find the courage to pick up his harmonica again, he had a few song ideas he wanted to try out.

On their way through the trees, Moomintroll and Moominpappa were returning with a decent amount of fish. It wasn't quite the amount Moominpappa had anticipated, but it would be enough for a sizable meal. Naturally, Moomintroll was aware that the fishing trip had ultimately been a means of getting him out of the house. He knew that they worried, and he was doing his best to move on with life. He tried not to think about it as they got closer and closer to the house, Moominpappa humming all the while.

When they reached the treeline, Moomintroll heard the humming stop, and looked up to see his father standing quietly eyes fixed on something father ahead. "are you alright?" Moomintroll asked.

"I think I'll let you handle this one, son." Moominpappa responded, taking off his hat and scratching his head. Moomintroll looked at him in confusion before turning to see the figure sitting quietly on the bridge.

He shook his head in disbelief and held his breath, fearing that even a small gust of wind would blow the vision away like smoke, but the figure remained. Stepping quietly forward, he opened his mouth to speak.

"Snu... Snufkin?" He asked quietly, dropping his fish to the ground. Snufkin stood and looked at Moomintroll, at a loss for words. The world seemed to stand still for a moment, but then Moomintroll rushed forward, almost knocking Snufkin off his feet before pulling him into an embrace. "Snufkin! Snufkin! Snufkin!" he cried, buring his face in Snufkin's shoulder. It didn't matter that he couldn't see Snufkin's face, he was home. He was alive. He had finally come back.

Snufkin also began to cry, unable to contain his feelings any longer. He wrapped his arms around Moomintroll's back and hugged him tightly, letting his tears soak Moomintroll's soft white fur. Neither of them cared about anything else in that moment. They were just so glad to be with one another, after what felt like an eternity, they were finally together again.

"I'm sorry Moomin, I'm so sorry I tried-" Snufkin weeped, and Moomin violently shook his head.

"No, no. I don't care... please just don't leave again okay? Just for awhile okay?" He cried, his voice strained, and Snufkin nodded. They felt another pair of arms wrap around them as Moominmamma had come down from the house and joined them on the bridge, she was soon followed by Moominpappa, and even little My eventually came over and wrapped her arms around Moomin's leg.

"This is ridiculous." she scoffed, but they could hear the emotion in her voice.

Word got around slowly. They didn't want to overwhelm Snufkin, still entirely unsure of what had happened to him, so they tried to keep things relatively quiet. It didn't entirely matter though, because both Moomintroll and Snufkin seemed lost in one another, talking softly and refusing to let go of the other's hand.

Moominmamma had offered Snufkin the couch, but he had declined, heading back to his tent for the night. When she finally headed to bed, purely on a whim she pushed open the door to Moomin's room and peered inside. The rope ladder was hanging off the side of the house, and she could see Snufkin curled up on the covers next to Moomin. She could see the scratches on the sides of his face, just the same as his hands but to a lesser degree. She knew they would hear the full story in due time, but he was sleeping peacefully now. She smiled gently and lingered for a moment before quietly pulling the door closed.

NOTE: What kind of ridiculous artist would I be if I didn’t even add an illustration to the end of my fan-fiction? Oh and just to make this clear: they’re boyfriends and they love each other, and they absolutely kissed afterwards.

[voicehumanity]

The Humanity Party®’s Final Argument on Gun Control: A Warning to the Human Race.

[NOTE: This document and its information is copyright of the Humanity Party® 2018. All rights reserved.

Any redistribution or reproduction of part or all of the contents in any form is prohibited other than the following:

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you may copy the content to individual third parties for their personal use, but only if you acknowledge the Humanity Party® as the source of the material.

You may not, except with our express written permission, distribute or commercially exploit the content. Nor may you transmit it or store it in any other website or other form of electronic retrieval system.]

The Nuclear Age was introduced to all of Earth’s inhabitants on August 6, 1945, during World War II (1939-45).  An American B-29 bomber dropped the world’s first deployed atomic bomb over the Japanese city of Hiroshima.  The explosion wiped out 90 percent of the city and immediately killed 80,000 people; tens of thousands more would later die of radiation exposure.  Three days later, a second B-29 dropped another A-bomb on Nagasaki, killing an estimated 40,000 people.

After World War II, a nuclear arms race between the Soviet Union and the United States began and reached fearful and threatening speeds.  Each side boasted that it had the most powerful deployable nuclear weapons.  On October 30, 1961, the Soviet Union proved and supported its bragging rights by detonating the largest nuclear device ever detonated, and the most powerful man-made explosion in history.  The bomb was called the Tsar Bomba.  With a yield of 50 megatons of TNT—3000 times more powerful than the bomb dropped on Hiroshima—the Tsar Bomba was the culmination of a number of hydrogen bomb tests conducted throughout this time by both the Soviet Union and the United States.  Theoretically, the Tsar Bomba could have yielded as much as 100 megatons of TNT, but it would have resulted in a dangerous level of nuclear fallout.  Additionally, the delivery plane would not have had sufficient time to retreat to a safe distance.

The extreme damage and devastation wrought by thermonuclear weapons like the Tsar Bomba is inconceivable. If such a weapon exploded in any large city such as New York, Paris, Moscow, or London, its metropolitan area plus large portions of its surrounding suburbs would be completely destroyed and devoid of all life.

The United States and Russia (formally, the Soviet Union) have thermonuclear weapons that are theoretically 1000 times more powerful than the Tsar Bomba.  Neither side will disclose what types of weapons it actually has. Keeping the other side guessing is what maintains the peace between these two powerful nations.

The early Hiroshima bomb decimated 5 square miles, including every living human being.  If the Tsar Bomba is 3000 times more powerful than the Hiroshima bomb, then, theoretically, the Tsar Bomba would have decimated 15,000 square miles.  And, theoretically, if there exists a thermonuclear weapon 1000 times more powerful than the Tsar Bomba, 15 million square miles, including every living human being, would be destroyed.

Who sat down and thought about creating such a terrible weapon that would have such devastating consequences to the human race?  Who conceived the idea and then acted on the idea to develop nuclear energy?  Did these people feel any remorse or concern for the ideas they conceived and experimented upon?

The Soviet nuclear physicist, Andrei Dmitrievich Sakharov (1921-1989), often referred to as the “father of the Soviet hydrogen bomb” because he headed the team that created the Tsar Bomba, would later became a human rights activist.  He won the 1975 Nobel Peace Prize.  After the Tsar Bomba was detonated, Sakharov wrote letters to Soviet leaders urging them to stop nuclear testing.  His warnings contributed to efforts by the United States and the Soviet Union to consider nuclear weapons treaties between the two world superpowers.  But when Sakharov published an article entitled “Reflections on Progress, Peaceful Coexistence, and Intellectual Freedom” in 1968, in which he publicly dissented against the Soviet leadership’s policies and instead advocated for cooperation with the U.S., he was removed from his responsibilities on Soviet scientific research and development projects.  He was eventually convicted of anti-Soviet activity and exiled.  When the Soviet Union disbanded, Sakharov and his wife were released from exile and invited to Moscow in December 1986 by Mikhail Gorbachev as part of his domestic liberalization policy that led to the dissembling of the Soviet Union.

Sakharov was hardly the father of nuclear physics.  He had nothing to do with the development of the first nuclear weapons that took the lives of thousands of innocent human beings in Japan. We could name a few of the major progenitors of the Nuclear Age, but do they really deserve accolade?  Do they deserve any praise for what they did? They figured out how to harness the power of atoms—the building blocks of all matter.  Upon figuring it out, why did they use their knowledge to help create weapons of mass destruction?  That’s a question that each of these nuclear scientists (and they were mostly men) must ask himself.  If what you know contributes to death, destruction, and unimaginable misery, what kind of person are you if you share or utilize your knowledge, knowing that it could lead to such human misery?

Let’s theorize that you are a person who pursues an education in nuclear physics.  You study everything that has ever been published by all the nuclear physicists before you.  You develop a theory that only you know and understand.  Your idea can be used for good or for bad, and your idea is worth a lot of money, prestige, and popularity among your peers.  What would you do with your idea?  Would you tell others?  Would you weigh the options between the good your idea can do and the bad it can do, and then decide if you should share it with others?  Would you consider that although your idea could do a lot of good for humanity, in the wrong hands, it would do even more bad? What would be your decision?  

Your decision would become the ultimate sign and token of your personal humanity.  Would you sell the sign and token of your humanity for money, prestige, and popularity among your peers?  More than likely, as human nature is, most would.  Most would justify their decision based on the thought of how much good the idea can do, how much money can be made, and how popular one would become. They would deflect personal guilt by transferring the negative consequences to someone or something else’s responsibility.

On August 6, 1945, the U.S. President, Harry S. Truman, decided that the killing of tens of thousands of innocent people was justified and good.  His decision did end the war with Japan, but there are some who believe that war would have ended anyway.  Truman’s decision might have saved countless lives in an ongoing war, but was dropping the bomb Truman’s only option?  Couldn’t he have warned Japan about what was going to happen and then dropped the bomb on some isolated, uninhabited Japanese island to prove its power?

Let’s suppose that Truman’s decision was good and that the sacrifice of thousands of men, women, and little ones for a greater purpose is good. Let’s theorize that the sacrifice of MILLIONS of men, women, and little ones is good, IF the sacrifice would cause world peace, or at least cause the leaders to consider world peace.  

What if the United States had a thermonuclear weapon 1000 times more powerful than any other nation’s weapon?  Let’s call it, Dios Mío (OMG, Oh My God!).  Let’s suppose that Dios Mío could initiate cooperation between the world’s nations that would lead to peace upon Earth.  Should the U.S. show its power and explode the device for the entire world to see?  If so, should the U.S. detonate it in the middle of the Pacific Ocean in an uninhabited area?  Or should the U.S. drop it on Russia or China and take out one of its current superpower competitors?

How would the world respond to such incredible power?  Would it make a difference?

Did it make a difference when the United States showed its unprecedented power on August 6, 1945?  No!  It led to more instability and threat to world peace.  Why? Because of the human ego.  No one likes to be shown up or proven wrong.  No one likes to be devalued and demoralized compared to everyone else.  If the United States is right, and it has the power to enforce what it believes is right, but what it believes is right is wrong to people of other nations, those who do not agree with the United States will not sue or seek for peace.  Because of human nature, peace seems impossible. Most people would rather have the money, prestige, and popularity that support their personal ego rather than remain a “nobody” in the world.

What if a “nobody” had access to all of the information that the world’s nuclear physicists have, and have ever had, and this “nobody” wanted to make a name for himself and leave a sign and token of his existence so that no one would ever forget his name?

There was once a “nobody” who lived in Greece during the fifth century BCE. He was from a very wealthy family that everyone envied.  At that time, everyone wanted to be rich, and the Greek culture afforded people with reasonable opportunities to live the Greek Dream.  As this “nobody” grew, he wanted to be as popular and well liked as his father and others of his peers.  Because of his family’s wealth, he was able to sit around and think about things.  He could read and write.  He would sit around for days and read and study things. He developed a theory that became the basis of everything that modern nuclear physicists know and understand about nuclear energy: the atom.  His name was Democritus.

Democritus knew that if a stone were divided in half, the two halves would have essentially the same properties as the whole.  Therefore, he reasoned (theorized) that if the stone were to be continually cut into smaller and smaller pieces then, at some point, there would be a piece which would be so small as to be indivisible.  He called these small pieces of matter "atomos," the Greek word for indivisible.

Over 2,000 years later, Democritus’ theory started the Nuclear Age. During the later part of the 19th Century, other men sat around all day and thought about the atom and began to experiment with Democritus’ ideas.  It didn’t take more than 50 years for Democritus’ ancient theory to develop and lead to the detonation of the first nuclear weapon.  So, the question remains, why didn’t and couldn’t Democritus have taken the theoretical steps necessary to create nuclear weapons during the 5th Century BCE? Why did it take over 2,000 more years before the theory was expounded upon?  If the ancient Greeks had developed nuclear weapons, there wouldn’t have been a Great Roman Empire.  There would have only been the Great Greek Empire, which would have spread throughout and conquered the entire world, but ONLY IF the Greeks would have used atomic energy and power for good.

There were those who lived in ancient Greece who knew where Democritus’ theory would lead.  These few men didn’t care about making a name for themselves.  They didn’t care about the money, the prestige, or the popularity among their peers.  They didn’t have any peers.  They were “nobodies.”  It was a humble servant and close friend of one of the most popular and influential Greeks in history, Aristotle, who would converse with his master and discuss the ramifications and possibilities of Democritus’ ideas.  Convinced of the bad that humanity would do with the atom, Aristotle rejected Democritus’ theory.  Because of Aristotle’s influence on education and science, nuclear physics would lay dormant and unconsidered for tens of hundreds of years.

It was because Aristotle’s servant didn’t sell the sign and token of his humanity for money and aggrandize his own ego in order to leave a name and legacy for himself that the world was saved at that time.  Had that humble person not existed, we might not have a world today.

There are many more “nobodies” in the world than “somebodies.”  If you walk around the world’s most populous cities, how many people do you recognize and know?  Very few, if any.  The ability of a “nobody” to become a “somebody” has diminished over time.  It takes a lot of “nobodies” to make a “somebody.” To be known for your wealth, you need a lot of “nobodies” making money for you. To gain prestige and popularity among your peers, there must exist a lot of “nobodies” to whom you are compared.

During the times of Ancient Greece, only the “somebodies” had the time and the means to read and write and theorize. Information was generally restricted only to the “somebodies.”  Not so today. Today, anybody can access most information.

It is not a nation attacking or threatening another nation with nuclear weapons that the world must fear.  We must fear a “nobody” wanting to become a “somebody.”  It is easy for governments and their law enforcement agencies to monitor and control people of whom they know and are aware.  It’s not so easy to monitor and control the “nobodies” of the world.

In a secure and isolated basement, with access to the information of nuclear physics, a “nobody” is devising a plan to become a “somebody.”

Just a few selected men created a nuclear device that was once deemed impossible by the majority of the world.  These few nuclear pioneers had access to very limited information compared to what more modern nuclear physicists have access to, much of which is available on the Internet.  This “nobody” will acquire the knowledge and ability to take all that the pioneers had and turn a wagon drawn by two oxen into a supersonic jet. And there’s nothing that any law enforcement agency on Earth can do to stop him.  There’s nothing that any law, any amount of vetting, waiting period, or background check is going to do to stop him.

If he succeeds and detonates a thermonuclear device that has 3000 times more power than the one that destroyed Hiroshima, how is the world going to react? What is it going to do?

It seems that when something like this happens, the world responds in fear and a strong resolve to never let it happen again by retaliating.  When the United States was attacked on September 11, 2001, by a group of “nobodies,” it responded with the full force of its military. The U.S. investigated, pursued, and killed anyone that it theorized had taken a part in the 9-11 attack on the World Trade Centers in New York. Tens of thousands of innocent men, women, and little ones became justifiable “collateral damage.”  The United States killed and wounded tens of hundreds of thousands of “nobodies” in retaliation.  The American people didn’t know the names, families, addresses, or anything else about these “nobodies.”  In March of 2003, the “shock and awe” military campaign of revenge began.

The “nobody” who is learning how to create a thermonuclear weapon in his basement doesn’t particularly like what the “somebodies” of this world have done, and are doing, to the “nobodies.”  He has learned a lot from the U.S. response to 9-11.  He has learned that he has to remain incognito and do what he is doing (developing a homemade thermonuclear weapon) under the radar of American intelligence and law enforcement.

When this “nobody” becomes a “somebody” in world history by destroying MILLIONS of innocent people as “collateral damage” during an attack on a legitimate target (the United States), which this “nobody” believes is responsible for creating misery and destroying “nobodies” like him throughout the world, how, then, will the world respond?  When this person succeeds at developing and detonating a homemade thermonuclear device that is 1000 times more powerful than the Tsar Bomba, in a suburb of Washington D.C., it will completely destroy Washington D.C., Delaware, Maryland, New Jersey, and New York City.

What or whom is the United States government going to attack in retaliation and response to this type of attack?  The United States government will no longer exist to organize its “well-regulated militia” and lead its military.  The Pentagon will be instantaneously vaporized.  Every atom of every government building, of every politician, of every military leader will do exactly what Democritus theorized would happen: be broken down into its smallest, non-dividable parts.

New York, the hub of the world’s economy, will no longer exist.  The American economy and government will remain in the hands of 300 million, unregulated American gun owners, who have no clue about what they are going to do next. Will they unite along left-wing and right-wing political lines?  Will the gun owners take over and force the liberals to reestablish a government according to the concepts presented in the United States Constitution, which would still, theoretically, be in effect in the other U.S. States that weren’t destroyed?  Will the gun owners kill the liberals who don’t believe that a citizen should have the right to own a gun outside of a “well-regulated militia,” as the liberals interpret the Constitution?

Perhaps, a well-established foreign government like China would take over. Chinese businesses are well invested in the United States and own many of the companies that will provide paychecks to the surviving Americans.  Wouldn’t the Chinese have a stake in what the United States will become after their political and economic structure is completely destroyed?

The gun owners would feel safer than the liberals.  They could defend themselves and their families.  But what about the millions of people who owned guns in the former States of Maryland, Delaware, New Jersey, and New York City?  What good did their guns do them?

If the world were to respond like it usually does—like the United States did after 9-11—the homemade nuclear explosion that will wipe out the American government and economic base will not be the last.  Eventually, a modern-day Democritus will no longer have to theorize how the sun was created, he will KNOW.  And unless this modern Democritus is stopped by the humanity of a humble servant—a “nobody” who will never sell the sign and token of his humanity for money, prestige, or popularity—our sun will be recreated in the isolated basement laboratory of an unknown “nobody.”  The creation of a new sun will destroy our solar system and put out the fire that allows humans to exist.

Streaming live over the Internet, this modern-day Democritus will give his final statement to a world that made him feel like a “nobody.”  Looking straight into the camera, with his finger on the key that will detonate a new sun’s creation, he will speak his last words: 

“If I am nobody, then so shall be the rest of you.”

The “nobodies” of this world now have access to everything and all the information that all the “somebodies” have had.  The “nobodies” will continue to use this access to become somebody.  To save humanity, we need to understand why anyone would get the idea in one’s head that one must kill other people in order to make a name for oneself, or for what “nobody” considers is justice.

We do not know who the next “nobody” is who wants to become “somebody.” Nikolas Cruz was a “nobody” before he entered his high school and killed a few of his classmates who looked at him as a “nobody.”

Theodore “Ted” Kaczynski, was a “nobody” until he decided to live in a cabin isolated away from others and put together bombs and mail them to people who he had decided were a part of an unjust world.  Kaczynski became somebody: the infamous Unabomber.  In his mind, he simply wanted a better world for everyone. Kaczynski wrote a manifesto about the inequality and disparity between the rich and poor of the world and the way that technology was destroying the earth’s environs.  He called his manifesto: “The Industrial Society and its Future.”  He sent the manifesto to the New York Times and told the popular newspaper that he would not bomb anyone else, if the Times published it.  His brother read the paper and recognized Ted’s writing style.  Once discovered, law enforcement officials surrounded Ted in his cabin.  Had Kaczynski developed the technology for a sun’s fusion reactor in his cabin, the unjust world that he observed, and the people responsible for it, would no longer exist.

A few “nobodies” got together and figured out a way to hijack planes and turn the planes into missiles to attack the economic center of the world that these “nobodies” were convinced was the main contributor to poverty and inequality in their own countries.  They sacrificed their own lives to become “somebody.”

To stop the next “nobody,” we need to focus on creating a world where everybody is somebody.

THumP® has the solutions.  No one else does.®

[rapsuccess]

Objection Handling & The Power of Follow-Up: Mastermind Session Featuring Tim Green and Pat Fenton

Pat Fenton, real estate coach and Tim Green, top listing agent share insights on creating a winning system.

Patrick Fenton, speaker, coach, and mentor has been in the real estate industry for 18 years. Pat has presented live at over 800 events to over a million agents. Recently, Pat has partnered with Rap Success Systems (RAPSS) to help lead training and coaching strategies for RAPSS’ Real Insider Pro division.

Timothy Green has been a top real estate agent out of Fort Wayne, Indiana for over 20 years. Tim specializes in listings, luxury properties, first-time homebuyers, and staging. Tim has used RAPSS services for the past five years to help build his successful practice.

Whether you’re an agent who is holding strong but wants to kick it up a few notches or one who is struggling and needs to make some changes, the insights shared by Pat and Tim will have significant implications to your bottom line. If you’re an agent looking to become an elite listing agent and increase your sales volume by 10x or more, then these Real Insider Pro insights are critical.

The fundamentals of real estate needed to optimize your business never change.

You can probably think back 20 years ago and see that agents are handling the same seller objections they face today. Some of the marketing, technology, and resources may change; affecting where and how the consumers show interest. But overall, how agents sell and convert on opportunities, pretty much has been static for many years.

Pat calls it “getting belly-to-belly with your clients.” You can have tons of leads flowing into your inbox, but you’re not going to see the conversion until you’re engaging those leads, giving them value and doing something for them.

How do you address the client’s concerns and objections?

Tim puts it this way:

“I try to make sure that I’m not just answering just to answer I’m really listening to what that objection is. You have to slow yourself down to really understand the objection. I always restate, their object or issue so I can really get a handle on their concern. That also gives me time to prepare my response. So, I slow down and even write down the concern to be sure I get it right.  Now I’m ready to say to the homeowner “okay would this make sense?” or “would this be helpful?” These questions help me get buy-in from the homeowner as they’re responding with “

Yeah, that does make sense!” If it doesn’t make sense, then I want to understand why.

When you’re overcoming objections, how do UVPs come into play?

The reality, with the number of agents getting their license and entering the marketplace and the increasingly competitive the landscape, you must have a differential; especially when you’re working cold leads. Those are your Unique Value Propositions (UVPs). It’s not as critical when you have a high-quality referral with built in trust. Although, you never want to take any prospect for granted. But especially when you’re working cold leads, marketing-generated leads, etc.

Tim explains how his strategy includes:

Unconditional cancellation guarantee – gives them a warm feeling that this guy understands us he understands the fact that if we have any problems we can always cancel.

If I can’t sell your home within a certain timeframe, I won’t take a commission – that gives them a warm feeling like “Oh WOW! This guy is gonna stand behind what he says!”

I will buy your home if I don’t sell it.

(Note: have the conditions and structure behind this guarantee to make sure you’re not buying 20 homes.)

It’s important to customize the value proposition based on the particulars of the climate you’re working with to determine what makes sense. Focus on the things that can help you overcome the objections raised and help them see that you’re a professional who knows how to get their home sold. There’s really no risk to working with you.

Specifically, weave your UVPs into the conversation like “one of the reasons so many people choose to work with me is because you know I guarantee that I’m gonna sell your house within 39 days or I’m gonna work for free.”  That’s not a throw-away tactic; it’s a strategy that works for a lot of people. Equally powerful, those UVPs put the pressure on you to perform and do all the things you say you’ll do in your marketing plan. The good part is that it’s not a risk to you if you do your job.

Many agents don’t recognize that most objections that prospects throw out there are just smokescreens. Prospects are stalling you; they’re testing you. It’s just human nature not to want to appear easy. Most people are just fearful of making a bad decision. They think they can save money by not using a real estate broker, especially when you’re dealing with FSBOs. Our job is to reassure them and provide information that makes them feel like they made a good decision. They also want to feel like they made the decision; not that I made the decision for them. It’s the same with any major purchase; people are afraid of making the wrong decision and having buyer’s remorse.

Pat has many years of experience as a sales trainer. In that role, he finds that when a salesperson doesn’t lock in the words to handle the objections, then they really can’t say them with enough conviction to put you in a position of leadership on that phone call or in person. It’s clear where many salespeople fail is the point where they don’t simply look at bullet points. It’s not that they’ve never seen the scripts before. To be the best, you’ve got to look at your marketing plan and associated tools and resources to get the leads at the top of the funnel. Then after that, look at the strategy tactics and processes at the bottom of the funnel. Then it comes down to implementing, not just knowing, the best practices.

Fewer than 5% of real estate agents take the time to get a flashcard and say here’s my intro script, boom, go to the next card, here is my not-interested objection script, boom – repeating that process through the entire script for every objection.

Pat used to coach football for 16 years, and he says “as part of state championship teams, we used to tell our kids – listen we’re not gonna practice these five plays until we get them right we’re gonna practice them until we can’t get them wrong!”  That level of internalization enables you to focus on how you’re saying things, not simply on what you’re saying. That is what makes all the difference in the world. With few exceptions, if you’re confident, and you’re sure then your prospects are going to be sure.

Pat is working with Isaiah Colton to take every best practice they have about lead generation and lead conversion and put it into their soon-to-be-released Ultimate Listing Machine Playbook. The ULM Playbook will describe strategies for the marketing plan, lead sources, detailed scripts and develop the full game plan. Real estate agents will get all the scripts they teach, and the top agents use to convert at the highest ratios in the industry. That’s why there’s a lot of excitement around the release of the Ultimate Listing Machine Playbook. You can add your name to the waiting list to be among the first notified when it becomes available here, Add me to the list.

Follow up is critical.

Even when a lead seems to be warming to you, even if it’s a referral, it’s not guaranteed until the papers are signed. So, you must do the follow-up work to convert on your leads. Ask yourself, “how often do I personally talk to a prospect?”

Do you have teams and the proper CRM systems to help you follow up consistently? Do you leverage different types of communication methods such as email, social media, video?

Using those methods consistently, help you stay engaged, build relationships, build trust, and demonstrate your expertise with your prospects.

Like Michael Gerber says in the book The E Myth Revisited, “if you create a winning system now you can simply hire and train people on that system – the system already designed to produce results. That’s the biggest message we wanted to share. To hear the full conversation from the Real Insider Pro Mastermind video with Pat Fenton and Tim Green, watch it here.

[myhauntedsalem]

13 OF THE MOST DISTURBING LAST WORDS FROM DEATH ROW PRISONERS

Before execution, it is usually customary for condemned criminals to take the stage one last time and address the public with his or her final words. Whether it is a chilling statement aimed at shocking or upsetting those in attendance, a light-hearted statement that attempts get few chuckles or a final slap in the face of society, criminals throughout the years have had some pretty interesting things to say in the minutes prior to taking their final breath.

Here are the last words of 13 death row prisoners and the disturbing messages they chose to leave the world.

John Wayne Gacy

Last words: “Kiss my ass.”

John Wayne Gacy was convicted of the rape and murder of 33 men between 1972 and his arrest in 1978. The former children’s party entertainer became known as the “Killer Clown” because of the all the parties he attended in his clown suit and full-face makeup.

Gacy was executed by lethal injection just after midnight on May 10, 1994. When asked if he had any last words, Gacy is said to have snarled these three simple words.

Aileen Wuornos

Last words: “I’d just like to say I’m sailing with the rock, and I’ll be back like Independence Day, with Jesus June 6. Like the movie, big mother ship and all, I’ll be back.”

Aileen Wuornos, abandoned by her parents at a young age was working as a prostitute and robbing people to support herself by the time she became a teenager. In 1989 and 1990, Wuornos shot, killed and robbed at least six men. Arrested and tried in 1991 she received a total of six death sentences, earning her the inaccurate label by the press of being the first female American serial killer.

George Appel

Last words: “Well, gentlemen, you are about to see a baked Appel.”

Clearly keeping his sense of humor right until the last moment, this pun was to be the final words of convicted murderer George Appel before he was executed in the electric chair in New York in 1928 for the murder of a New York City police officer.

Peter Kürten

Last words: “Tell me. After my head has been chopped off, will I still be able to hear, at least for a moment, the sound of my own blood gushing from the stump of my neck? That would be a pleasure to end all pleasures.”

Peter Kürten, or more commonly known as the “The Vampire of Dusseldorf,” is believed to have killed nearly 60 people in Germany. He beat, raped, and drank the blood of at least one of his victims. Kürten was executed by guillotine on July 2, 1931.

John Spenkelink

Last words: “Capital punishment: them without the capital get the punishment.”

John Spenkelink was a drifter convicted of killing a traveling companion which he claimed was done in self-defense. Incidentally, he was also the first man put to be put to death in Florida after the U.S. Supreme Court reinstated capital punishment in 1976.

Barbara “Bloody Babs” Graham

Last words: “Good people are always so sure they’re right.”

Barbara “Bloody Babs” Graham was a prostitute, drug addict and a murderess who was executed in the gas chamber at San Quentin in 1955 along with two accomplices. Graham beat an elderly woman to death when a robbery went bad. When she was strapped into the gas chamber by Joe Feretti, the man in charge of her execution, he told her, “Now take a deep breath and it won’t bother you” to which she responded, “How would you know?”

Gary Gilmore

Last words: “Let’s do it!”

Convicted of killing a motel manager, Gary Gilmore’s was put to death in Utah on January 17, 1977, by a volunteer firing squad. He became the first person to be executed after the U.S. reinstated the death penalty in 1976, ending a 10-year lapse. Gilmore donated his organs and shortly after he was executed, two people received his corneas.

Notably, Gilmore gained further fame posthumously when advertising executive Dan Wieden credited Gilmore’s parting words as the inspiration for Nike’s tagline.

Carl Panzram

Last words: “In my lifetime I have murdered 21 human beings, I have committed thousands of burglaries, robberies, larcenies, arsons and last but not least I have committed sodomy on more than 1,000 male human beings. For all these things, I am not in the least bit sorry.”

Carl Panzram was a serial killer, rapist, arsonist, and burglar who was hanged on September 5, 1930. Without ever showing any sign of remorse for his crimes, he refused to appeal his sentence, he even threatening to kill members of human rights groups who attempted to appeal on his behalf.

Defiant until the end, Panzram went on to tell his own executioner, “Hurry it up you Hoosier bastard! I could hang a dozen men while you’re screwing around.”

Timothy McVeigh

Last words: “I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.”

Timothy McVeigh is best known as the Oklahoma City bomber and was convicted of setting the bomb which killed 149 adults and 19 children at the federal building in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma on April 19, 1995. McVeigh had no final words before being executed by lethal injection on June 11, 2001, in Indiana. Although he did leave a handwritten statement quoting the last lines of the poem called Invictus by Sir William Ernest Henley.

James French

Last words: “How’s this for a headline? ‘French Fries.’”

James French was the last person to be executed by electric chair under Oklahoma’s death penalty on August 10, 1966. Already in prison for life, but allegedly afraid to commit suicide, French murdered his cellmate, apparently to compel the state to execute him.

Thomas J. Grasso

Last words: “I did not get my spaghettiOs, I got spaghetti. I want the press to know this.”

Thomas J. Grasso was executed by lethal injection in Oklahoma for strangling an 87 year-old woman to death on Christmas Eve with her own Christmas lights, while stealing a television and $12. In the US, prisoners on death row are traditionally allowed anything they would like to eat for their last meal before they are executed. Grasso took this right very seriously. His last meal request was for two dozen steamed mussels, two dozen steamed clams (flavoured by a wedge of lemon), a double cheeseburger from Burger King, a half-dozen barbecued spare ribs, two strawberry milkshakes, one-half of a pumpkin pie with whipped cream, diced strawberries, and a 16-ounce can of SpaghettiOs with meatballs, served at room temperature.

Unfortunately for him, the length or complexity of his list seemed to confuse kitchen staff who made one crucial mistake and served him spaghetti instead of his SpaghettiOs.

Robert Alton Harris

Last words: “You can be a king or a street sweeper, but everyone dances with the grim reaper.”

Robert Alton Harris was responsible for the murder of two teenage boys. In 1992, he was the first person to be executed in the state of California in decades. His last words were a misquote from the film Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey.

Tom “Black Jack” Ketchum

Last words: “I’ll be in hell before you start breakfast, boys. Let her rip!”

Tom “Black Jack” Ketchum, the infamous outlaw was finally caught after a failed train robbery. Sentenced to hang, Ketchum’s uttered these now famous words before his execution was horribly botched, and the noose cut his head clean off his body.

[myhauntedsalem]

13 of the Most Disturbing Last Words from Death Row Prisoners

Before execution, it is usually customary for condemned criminals to take the stage one last time and address the public with his or her final words. Whether it is a chilling statement aimed at shocking or upsetting those in attendance, a light-hearted statement that attempts get few chuckles or a final slap in the face of society, criminals throughout the years have had some pretty interesting things to say in the minutes prior to taking their final breath.

Here are the last words of 13 death row prisoners and the disturbing messages they chose to leave the world.

John Wayne Gacy

Last words: “Kiss my ass.”

John Wayne Gacy was convicted of the rape and murder of 33 men between 1972 and his arrest in 1978. The former children’s party entertainer became known as the “Killer Clown” because of the all the parties he attended in his clown suit and full-face makeup.

Gacy was executed by lethal injection just after midnight on May 10, 1994. When asked if he had any last words, Gacy is said to have snarled these three simple words.

Aileen Wuornos

Last words: “I’d just like to say I’m sailing with the rock, and I’ll be back like Independence Day, with Jesus June 6. Like the movie, big mother ship and all, I’ll be back.”

Aileen Wuornos, abandoned by her parents at a young age was working as a prostitute and robbing people to support herself by the time she became a teenager. In 1989 and 1990, Wuornos shot, killed and robbed at least six men. Arrested and tried in 1991 she received a total of six death sentences, earning her the inaccurate label by the press of being the first female American serial killer.

George Appel

Last words: “Well, gentlemen, you are about to see a baked Appel.”

Clearly keeping his sense of humor right until the last moment, this pun was to be the final words of convicted murderer George Appel before he was executed in the electric chair in New York in 1928 for the murder of a New York City police officer.

Peter Kürten  

Last words: “Tell me. After my head has been chopped off, will I still be able to hear, at least for a moment, the sound of my own blood gushing from the stump of my neck? That would be a pleasure to end all pleasures.”

Peter Kürten, or more commonly known as the “The Vampire of Dusseldorf,” is believed to have killed nearly 60 people in Germany. He beat, raped, and drank the blood of at least one of his victims. Kürten was executed by guillotine on July 2, 1931.

John Spenkelink  

Last words: “Capital punishment: them without the capital get the punishment.”

John Spenkelink was a drifter convicted of killing a traveling companion which he claimed was done in self-defense. Incidentally, he was also the first man put to be put to death in Florida after the U.S. Supreme Court reinstated capital punishment in 1976.

Barbara “Bloody Babs” Graham  

Last words: “Good people are always so sure they’re right.”

Barbara “Bloody Babs” Graham was a prostitute, drug addict and a murderess who was executed in the gas chamber at San Quentin in 1955 along with two accomplices. Graham beat an elderly woman to death when a robbery went bad. When she was strapped into the gas chamber by Joe Feretti, the man in charge of her execution, he told her, “Now take a deep breath and it won’t bother you” to which she responded, “How would you know?”

Gary Gilmore  

Last words: “Let’s do it!”

Convicted of killing a motel manager, Gary Gilmore’s was put to death in Utah on January 17, 1977, by a volunteer firing squad. He became the first person to be executed after the U.S. reinstated the death penalty in 1976, ending a 10-year lapse. Gilmore donated his organs and shortly after he was executed, two people received his corneas.

Notably, Gilmore gained further fame posthumously when advertising executive Dan Wieden credited Gilmore’s parting words as the inspiration for Nike’s tagline.

Carl Panzram  

Last words: “In my lifetime I have murdered 21 human beings, I have committed thousands of burglaries, robberies, larcenies, arsons and last but not least I have committed sodomy on more than 1,000 male human beings. For all these things, I am not in the least bit sorry.”

Carl Panzram was a serial killer, rapist, arsonist, and burglar who was hanged on September 5, 1930. Without ever showing any sign of remorse for his crimes, he refused to appeal his sentence, he even threatening to kill members of human rights groups who attempted to appeal on his behalf.

Defiant until the end, Panzram went on to tell his own executioner, “Hurry it up you Hoosier bastard! I could hang a dozen men while you’re screwing around.”

Timothy McVeigh

Last words: “I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.”

Timothy McVeigh is best known as the Oklahoma City bomber and was convicted of setting the bomb which killed 149 adults and 19 children at the federal building in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma on April 19, 1995. McVeigh had no final words before being executed by lethal injection on June 11, 2001, in Indiana. Although he did leave a handwritten statement quoting the last lines of the poem called Invictus by Sir William Ernest Henley.

James French

Last words: “How’s this for a headline? ‘French Fries.’”

James French was the last person to be executed by electric chair under Oklahoma’s death penalty on August 10, 1966. Already in prison for life, but allegedly afraid to commit suicide, French murdered his cellmate, apparently to compel the state to execute him.

Thomas J. Grasso  

Last words: “I did not get my spaghettiOs, I got spaghetti. I want the press to know this.”

Thomas J. Grasso was executed by lethal injection in Oklahoma for strangling an 87 year-old woman to death on Christmas Eve with her own Christmas lights, while stealing a television and $12. In the US, prisoners on death row are traditionally allowed anything they would like to eat for their last meal before they are executed. Grasso took this right very seriously. His last meal request was for two dozen steamed mussels, two dozen steamed clams (flavoured by a wedge of lemon), a double cheeseburger from Burger King, a half-dozen barbecued spare ribs, two strawberry milkshakes, one-half of a pumpkin pie with whipped cream, diced strawberries, and a 16-ounce can of SpaghettiOs with meatballs, served at room temperature.

Unfortunately for him, the length or complexity of his list seemed to confuse kitchen staff who made one crucial mistake and served him spaghetti instead of his SpaghettiOs.

Robert Alton Harris  

Last words: “You can be a king or a street sweeper, but everyone dances with the grim reaper.”

Robert Alton Harris was responsible for the murder of two teenage boys. In 1992, he was the first person to be executed in the state of California in decades. His last words were a misquote from the film Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey.

Tom “Black Jack” Ketchum

Last words: “I’ll be in hell before you start breakfast, boys. Let her rip!”

Tom “Black Jack” Ketchum, the infamous outlaw was finally caught after a failed train robbery. Sentenced to hang, Ketchum’s uttered these now famous words before his execution was horribly botched, and the noose cut his head clean off his body.

[myhauntedsalem]

13 of the Most Disturbing Last Words from Death Row Prisoners  

Before execution, it is usually customary for condemned criminals to take the stage one last time and address the public with his or her final words. Whether it is a chilling statement aimed at shocking or upsetting those in attendance, a light-hearted statement that attempts get few chuckles or a final slap in the face of society, criminals throughout the years have had some pretty interesting things to say in the minutes prior to taking their final breath.

Here are the last words of 13 death row prisoners and the disturbing messages they chose to leave the world.

John Wayne Gacy

Last words: “Kiss my ass.”

John Wayne Gacy was convicted of the rape and murder of 33 men between 1972 and his arrest in 1978. The former children’s party entertainer became known as the “Killer Clown” because of the all the parties he attended in his clown suit and full-face makeup.

Gacy was executed by lethal injection just after midnight on May 10, 1994. When asked if he had any last words, Gacy is said to have snarled these three simple words.

Aileen Wuornos

Last words: “I’d just like to say I’m sailing with the rock, and I’ll be back like Independence Day, with Jesus June 6. Like the movie, big mother ship and all, I’ll be back.”

Aileen Wuornos, abandoned by her parents at a young age was working as a prostitute and robbing people to support herself by the time she became a teenager. In 1989 and 1990, Wuornos shot, killed and robbed at least six men. Arrested and tried in 1991 she received a total of six death sentences, earning her the inaccurate label by the press of being the first female American serial killer.

George Appel

Last words: “Well, gentlemen, you are about to see a baked Appel.”

Clearly keeping his sense of humor right until the last moment, this pun was to be the final words of convicted murderer George Appel before he was executed in the electric chair in New York in 1928 for the murder of a New York City police officer. 

Peter Kürten  

Last words: “Tell me. After my head has been chopped off, will I still be able to hear, at least for a moment, the sound of my own blood gushing from the stump of my neck? That would be a pleasure to end all pleasures.”

Peter Kürten, or more commonly known as the “The Vampire of Dusseldorf,” is believed to have killed nearly 60 people in Germany. He beat, raped, and drank the blood of at least one of his victims. Kürten was executed by guillotine on July 2, 1931. 

John Spenkelink  

Last words: “Capital punishment: them without the capital get the punishment.”

John Spenkelink was a drifter convicted of killing a traveling companion which he claimed was done in self-defense. Incidentally, he was also the first man put to be put to death in Florida after the U.S. Supreme Court reinstated capital punishment in 1976. 

Barbara “Bloody Babs” Graham  

Last words: “Good people are always so sure they’re right.”

Barbara “Bloody Babs” Graham was a prostitute, drug addict and a murderess who was executed in the gas chamber at San Quentin in 1955 along with two accomplices. Graham beat an elderly woman to death when a robbery went bad. When she was strapped into the gas chamber by Joe Feretti, the man in charge of her execution, he told her, “Now take a deep breath and it won’t bother you” to which she responded, “How would you know?” 

Gary Gilmore  

Last words: “Let’s do it!”

Convicted of killing a motel manager, Gary Gilmore’s was put to death in Utah on January 17, 1977, by a volunteer firing squad. He became the first person to be executed after the U.S. reinstated the death penalty in 1976, ending a 10-year lapse. Gilmore donated his organs and shortly after he was executed, two people received his corneas.

Notably, Gilmore gained further fame posthumously when advertising executive Dan Wieden credited Gilmore’s parting words as the inspiration for Nike’s tagline. 

Carl Panzram  

Last words: “In my lifetime I have murdered 21 human beings, I have committed thousands of burglaries, robberies, larcenies, arsons and last but not least I have committed sodomy on more than 1,000 male human beings. For all these things, I am not in the least bit sorry.”

Carl Panzram was a serial killer, rapist, arsonist, and burglar who was hanged on September 5, 1930. Without ever showing any sign of remorse for his crimes, he refused to appeal his sentence, he even threatening to kill members of human rights groups who attempted to appeal on his behalf.

Defiant until the end, Panzram went on to tell his own executioner, “Hurry it up you Hoosier bastard! I could hang a dozen men while you’re screwing around.” 

Timothy McVeigh 

Last words: “I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.”

Timothy McVeigh is best known as the Oklahoma City bomber and was convicted of setting the bomb which killed 149 adults and 19 children at the federal building in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma on April 19, 1995. McVeigh had no final words before being executed by lethal injection on June 11, 2001, in Indiana. Although he did leave a handwritten statement quoting the last lines of the poem called Invictus by Sir William Ernest Henley. 

James French  

Last words: “How’s this for a headline? ‘French Fries.’”

James French was the last person to be executed by electric chair under Oklahoma’s death penalty on August 10, 1966. Already in prison for life, but allegedly afraid to commit suicide, French murdered his cellmate, apparently to compel the state to execute him. 

Thomas J. Grasso  

Last words: “I did not get my spaghettiOs, I got spaghetti. I want the press to know this.”

Thomas J. Grasso was executed by lethal injection in Oklahoma for strangling an 87 year-old woman to death on Christmas Eve with her own Christmas lights, while stealing a television and $12. In the US, prisoners on death row are traditionally allowed anything they would like to eat for their last meal before they are executed. Grasso took this right very seriously. His last meal request was for two dozen steamed mussels, two dozen steamed clams (flavoured by a wedge of lemon), a double cheeseburger from Burger King, a half-dozen barbecued spare ribs, two strawberry milkshakes, one-half of a pumpkin pie with whipped cream, diced strawberries, and a 16-ounce can of SpaghettiOs with meatballs, served at room temperature.

Unfortunately for him, the length or complexity of his list seemed to confuse kitchen staff who made one crucial mistake and served him spaghetti instead of his SpaghettiOs. 

Robert Alton Harris  

Last words: “You can be a king or a street sweeper, but everyone dances with the grim reaper.”

Robert Alton Harris was responsible for the murder of two teenage boys. In 1992, he was the first person to be executed in the state of California in decades. His last words were a misquote from the film Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey. 

Tom “Black Jack” Ketchum 

Last words: “I’ll be in hell before you start breakfast, boys. Let her rip!”

Tom “Black Jack” Ketchum, the infamous outlaw was finally caught after a failed train robbery. Sentenced to hang, Ketchum’s uttered these now famous words before his execution was horribly botched, and the noose cut his head clean off his body.

[rapsuccess]

Objection Handling & The Power of Follow-Up: Mastermind Session Featuring Tim Green and Pat Fenton

Pat Fenton, real estate coach and Tim Green, top listing agent share insights on creating a winning system.

Patrick Fenton, speaker, coach, and mentor has been in the real estate industry for 18 years. Pat has presented live at over 800 events to over a million agents. Recently, Pat has partnered with Rap Success Systems (RAPSS) to help lead training and coaching strategies for RAPSS’ Real Insider Pro division.

Timothy Green has been a top real estate agent out of Fort Wayne, Indiana for over 20 years. Tim specializes in listings, luxury properties, first-time homebuyers, and staging. Tim has used RAPSS services for the past five years to help build his successful practice.

Whether you’re an agent who is holding strong but wants to kick it up a few notches or one who is struggling and needs to make some changes, the insights shared by Pat and Tim will have significant implications to your bottom line. If you’re an agent looking to become an elite listing agent and increase your sales volume by 10x or more, then these Real Insider Pro insights are critical.

The fundamentals of real estate needed to optimize your business never change.

You can probably think back 20 years ago and see that agents are handling the same seller objections they face today. Some of the marketing, technology, and resources may change; affecting where and how the consumers show interest. But overall, how agents sell and convert on opportunities, pretty much has been static for many years.

Pat calls it “getting belly-to-belly with your clients.” You can have tons of leads flowing into your inbox, but you’re not going to see the conversion until you’re engaging those leads, giving them value and doing something for them.

How do you address the client’s concerns and objections?

Tim puts it this way:

“I try to make sure that I’m not just answering just to answer I’m really listening to what that objection is. You have to slow yourself down to really understand the objection. I always restate, their object or issue so I can really get a handle on their concern. That also gives me time to prepare my response. So, I slow down and even write down the concern to be sure I get it right.  Now I’m ready to say to the homeowner “okay would this make sense?” or “would this be helpful?” These questions help me get buy-in from the homeowner as they’re responding with “

Yeah, that does make sense!” If it doesn’t make sense, then I want to understand why.

When you’re overcoming objections, how do UVPs come into play?

The reality, with the number of agents getting their license and entering the marketplace and the increasingly competitive the landscape, you must have a differential; especially when you’re working cold leads. Those are your Unique Value Propositions (UVPs). It’s not as critical when you have a high-quality referral with built in trust. Although, you never want to take any prospect for granted. But especially when you’re working cold leads, marketing-generated leads, etc.

Tim explains how his strategy includes:

Unconditional cancellation guarantee – gives them a warm feeling that this guy understands us he understands the fact that if we have any problems we can always cancel.

If I can’t sell your home within a certain timeframe, I won’t take a commission – that gives them a warm feeling like “Oh WOW! This guy is gonna stand behind what he says!”

I will buy your home if I don’t sell it.

(Note: have the conditions and structure behind this guarantee to make sure you’re not buying 20 homes.)

It’s important to customize the value proposition based on the particulars of the climate you’re working with to determine what makes sense. Focus on the things that can help you overcome the objections raised and help them see that you’re a professional who knows how to get their home sold. There’s really no risk to working with you.

Specifically, weave your UVPs into the conversation like “one of the reasons so many people choose to work with me is because you know I guarantee that I’m gonna sell your house within 39 days or I’m gonna work for free.”  That’s not a throw-away tactic; it’s a strategy that works for a lot of people. Equally powerful, those UVPs put the pressure on you to perform and do all the things you say you’ll do in your marketing plan. The good part is that it’s not a risk to you if you do your job.

Many agents don’t recognize that most objections that prospects throw out there are just smokescreens. Prospects are stalling you; they’re testing you. It’s just human nature not to want to appear easy. Most people are just fearful of making a bad decision. They think they can save money by not using a real estate broker, especially when you’re dealing with FSBOs. Our job is to reassure them and provide information that makes them feel like they made a good decision. They also want to feel like they made the decision; not that I made the decision for them. It’s the same with any major purchase; people are afraid of making the wrong decision and having buyer’s remorse.

Pat has many years of experience as a sales trainer. In that role, he finds that when a salesperson doesn’t lock in the words to handle the objections, then they really can’t say them with enough conviction to put you in a position of leadership on that phone call or in person. It’s clear where many salespeople fail is the point where they don’t simply look at bullet points. It’s not that they’ve never seen the scripts before. To be the best, you’ve got to look at your marketing plan and associated tools and resources to get the leads at the top of the funnel. Then after that, look at the strategy tactics and processes at the bottom of the funnel. Then it comes down to implementing, not just knowing, the best practices.

Fewer than 5% of real estate agents take the time to get a flashcard and say here’s my intro script, boom, go to the next card, here is my not-interested objection script, boom – repeating that process through the entire script for every objection.

Pat used to coach football for 16 years, and he says “as part of state championship teams, we used to tell our kids – listen we’re not gonna practice these five plays until we get them right we’re gonna practice them until we can’t get them wrong!”  That level of internalization enables you to focus on how you’re saying things, not simply on what you’re saying. That is what makes all the difference in the world. With few exceptions, if you’re confident, and you’re sure then your prospects are going to be sure.

Pat is working with Isaiah Colton to take every best practice they have about lead generation and lead conversion and put it into their soon-to-be-released Ultimate Listing Machine Playbook. The ULM Playbook will describe strategies for the marketing plan, lead sources, detailed scripts and develop the full game plan. Real estate agents will get all the scripts they teach, and the top agents use to convert at the highest ratios in the industry. That’s why there’s a lot of excitement around the release of the Ultimate Listing Machine Playbook. You can add your name to the waiting list to be among the first notified when it becomes available here, Add me to the list.

Follow up is critical.

Even when a lead seems to be warming to you, even if it’s a referral, it’s not guaranteed until the papers are signed. So, you must do the follow-up work to convert on your leads. Ask yourself, “how often do I personally talk to a prospect?”

Do you have teams and the proper CRM systems to help you follow up consistently? Do you leverage different types of communication methods such as email, social media, video?

Using those methods consistently, help you stay engaged, build relationships, build trust, and demonstrate your expertise with your prospects.

Like Michael Gerber says in the book The E Myth Revisited, “if you create a winning system now you can simply hire and train people on that system – the system already designed to produce results. That’s the biggest message we wanted to share. To hear the full conversation from the Real Insider Pro Mastermind video with Pat Fenton and Tim Green, watch it here.

Source Link:- https://www.rapsuccess.com/objection-handling-the-power-of-follow-up-mastermind-session/