#extraordinarily low effort but i think that can be excused right

[necromancer-snail]

Can I offer you blorbos from my show in these trying times?

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Not That Kind of Movie

Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

Summary: “They plan a romantic getaway but everything goes sideways and they end up in a dive motel eating cheap pizza but the water is hot and the mattress isn't the worst and...” (prompt courtesy of @fangirlxwritesx67​) 

Word Count: 2590

Warnings: Steve feels sorry for himself, Bucky gets sassy, and innuendo abounds, but there’s nothing particularly explicit happening. Zero adherence to any sort of canon timeline. It’s fluffy as hell. 

A/N: Blame @katwillrise​, who encouraged this nonsense and has been keeping me company in the Stucky hole. Please help us. We cannot get out. Major thanks to @itmighthavebeenintentional​, who a) reassured me that this was worth posting and b) came up with the whole pizza thing and let me write it because she is amazing. 

“I think—” Bucky starts, but he (wisely) stops when Steve lets out a wordless rage-grunt. 

“I got it,” Steve snaps, and seriously considers kicking the motel door in. 

He gets five more beeping red lights before Bucky points out that he’s trying to open the wrong door. 

Bucky opens the right door on the first try and ushers him through. He hasn’t said “I told you so,” but he is radiating it from every smug pore. He’s been pointedly not saying “I told you so” all damn day, about every damn thing. 

“Maybe Mercury’s in retrograde,” Steve mumbles, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he sets his bag down on the desk. Then he realizes what he just said and feels himself flush brick-red. 

Steve knows, without turning around, that Bucky is smirking. He can picture it way too clearly. Most people have trouble reading Bucky’s brand of deadpan, these days, but he has an array of specific smirks, and they’re all subtly different if you know what you’re looking for. This one, barely-quirked lips and sparkly laughing eyes, translates to you’re an idiot but you’re my idiot. It’s just a hair meaner than the you’re an idiot but I love you variant and its close cousin, I fucking love you, you idiot. Steve knows it well. 

This particular smirk has had the same effect on Steve for about a century now: he gets a brief, overwhelming urge to punch Bucky, followed by an equally overwhelming urge to kiss him senseless. 

It’s irritating. And after a day’s worth of wildly unfortunate events that could, technically, be described as “Steve’s fault,” he is already irritated enough. He pointedly keeps his back turned and tries some breathing exercises. 

“That’s really what you’re going with?” Bucky says, dry and amused. “We’re blaming this on planets?” 

Steve sighs. “Clint taught me about astrology last time he got drunk.” 

“You do know he’s fucking with you, right?” 

“Of course I do,” Steve says, hoping he sounds disdainful. “I’m going to shower off the dried alien goop now.” He makes a dignified retreat to the shower while Bucky laughs. 

They were supposed to be at a luxury mountain cabin with a hot tub. Instead, the first day of their anniversary trip has been one long series of unmitigated catastrophes, because somehow, Steve’s tactical skills — which have defeated actual evil Nazi masterminds — do not extend to dates. Or romance in general, really. 

Steve has realized, in the last year, that while he is a goddamn national hero and literal superhuman, he is a disaster of a boyfriend. And yeah, sure, “boyfriend” doesn’t seem like the right word, exactly, for everything they are, but they’ve officially been together for a year now, and Steve got it into his head to make an effort. 

So, yeah. Catastrophes. And now he’s trying to scrub off dried alien goop in a sputtering coffin-sized shower that was clearly not built with super soldier proportions in mind. 

The hot water lasts just long enough for Steve to deem himself clean enough, for certain values of enough, but it doesn’t do much for his mood, which is the sort of sulk that really requires a hot tub. He just wanted to plan something nice, for once. Romantic. He’s always so busy running around being Captain goddamn America that romance usually takes a backseat — admittedly, aliens take the front seat in this metaphor, which is fair, but the point stands. 

Bucky is sprawled out on the plasticky motel duvet. He changed into flannel pajama pants and a worn henley, and he is temporarily retired from combat and other violent activities his therapist has deemed unwise, so he isn’t covered in alien goop; in fact, he looks comfortable and somehow totally content. After this kind of day, it doesn’t seem fair that someone should be that kind of attractive. 

Bucky stops channel-surfing to give Steve and his very small towel a flirtatious once-over. 

“Can you just get it over with?” Steve sighs, looking up at the ugly water-stained ceiling in supplication. 

“Hell no. I want to hear you say it.” 

“You were right. About taking the time to shower, and bringing our phones, and checking the radiator a week ago, and… all of it. Happy now? Stop laughing at me, I swear to god, I will — oof.” 

Steve doesn’t bother to resist, because the way his luck is going, that’d end in broken bones. He winds up on his back, towel-less, with Bucky on top of him, but his weight and his heat and his smile are doing a lot for Steve’s mood. 

Then Bucky grins and says, “Told you so, punk.” 

Steve scoffs and scowls and rolls them over — more out of principle than any actual desire to fight back — and Bucky lets himself be pinned. The smirk is back, and this time Steve gives in to the urge to kiss him senseless. 

By the time he pulls away, Bucky’s mouth is red and his eyes are heavy-lidded, and he’s giving Steve a slow blink and a lazy curl of a smile. It’s just as effective now as it used to be on every girl in Brooklyn. 

“You should put on pants,” he says, but the husky tone of his voice is saying the exact opposite, and it takes a second for the words to register. 

“Huh?” 

“Pizza should be here in five minutes. We’re not in that kinda movie.” 

That surprises an actual huff of a laugh from Steve. He slides away and digs around for his sweatpants while Bucky gives a low whistle and ogles shamelessly. 

By the time he settles back on the bed, he’s feeling a little sheepish and he’s ready to apologize. Bucky’s got one eyebrow raised ever so slightly, just waiting — the laugh helped, and he knew it would, and now he knows exactly what’s coming. Damn him. 

“Sorry,” Steve sighs. “About everything. This is not what I had in mind.” 

“Not sure what you mean,” Bucky says glibly. “I can think of worse ways to spend a Friday night.” He wriggles closer, pressing their hips together and giving Steve’s ass a friendly grope. 

“Seriously. I’m sorry, this was —” 

“When’d you turn into such a princess, huh?” Bucky asks, soft and fond even if the words are teasing. 

“Excuse you? I’m not the one with an entire duffel’s worth of hair products.” 

“What I mean—” He punctuates the word with a kiss that’s all teeth and promise. “—is that I’ve seen you grin and bear it through some serious shit, Rogers. You didn’t even get this bitchy when we were trekking around the goddamn Western Front. So what’s with the whining?” 

Steve doesn’t know where to start. For a second he just looks. 

Bucky’s made up of dramatic angles and distinctive shadows, jawline and cheekbones set in a way that Steve’s been trying to capture on paper for as long as he can remember, but up close like this, the sharp delicate lines seem blurred and smoothed-over; all Steve can see is the softness of his mouth and the gentle swoop of his eyelashes. Everything else falls out of focus. 

Christ, he’s gone for this jerk. 

And that’s the problem, really, because of all the things in his extraordinarily strange life, Bucky has always been the most extraordinary, a living breathing wise-cracking miracle even before they both became world-famous scientific anomalies. He deserves fireworks and epic poems and goddamn parades, and instead — well. This is the sort of motel where you don’t look too closely at the stains on the carpet. 

Steve’s spent the better part of a century pining for the guy. You’d think he could manage one romantic weekend getaway. 

“Stop that,” Bucky interrupts, before he can spiral any further. “Jesus, stop with the big tragic eyes already. Just shut up and kiss me.” 

Steve would protest, but there’s a tongue in his mouth and a hand in his hair, tugging sharp enough to make his hips twitch forward and his rational mind switch off completely. There’s kiss after syrupy-slow, brain-liquefying kiss, and for a moment Steve lets himself get lost in it.

Then they’re interrupted by a knock on the door, and he’s so startled he jerks back and rolls off the bed into a crouch, instincts kicking in before he remembers: pizza. Right. 

Bucky is laughing — cackling, more like. 

“Wallet’s on the desk,” he says, and stretches extravagantly, unbothered, while Steve fumbles for some money and goes to open the door. 

“Your total is—” The guy stops, blinking rapidly up at Steve. “You’re…” 

Steve remembers abruptly that he’s shirtless and half-hard, with some major bed head and kiss-swollen lips. 

“Sorry, I’m not — this isn’t —” he blurts out. “Um.” 

Too late. The guy is already glancing behind him; Steve looks back just in time to catch Bucky’s outrageous wink and sly grin from where he’s lounging on his side like a goddamn pinup. 

The delivery guy looks up at Steve again, grinning, and says, “Nice. Get it, Cap.” 

“I — what? No!” Steve squawks. “Not what it looks like!” 

“Totally what it looks like,” Bucky calls cheerfully. 

Steve shoves too much money at the guy. “Keep the change. Thank you!” 

He manages to snatch the boxes and slam the door before this can get any more mortifying, and then he sags back against the doorframe and puts a hand over his eyes for a second. 

“What happened to not that kind of movie?” he sighs, cheeks burning, before collecting himself and making a mental note to warn Pepper about another impending PR crisis. 

They sit on the floor, side by side, leaning back against the mattress. Steve checks the top box and hands it to Bucky at the sight of pineapple. 

“That’s yours. Heathen.” 

Bucky shrugs, unrepentant, and shoves half a slice of his pineapple abomination into his mouth in one bite. Steve does the same with his perfectly respectable mushroom and sausage piece, and for a few minutes they both just shovel food into their mouths. Steve didn’t realize how hungry he was, but… yeah. 

Maybe blood sugar has been a factor in his mood. Huh. 

“How’sit?” 

“It’s pizza. It’s hot and cheesy, it’s not like it could be bad.” 

“Hot and cheesy, huh? Just like one of my other favorite things.” 

Steve lets out a long suffering sigh, but it’s hard to be grouchy after demolishing half a pizza. 

“You know that guy is gonna tell everyone he’s ever met, right?”

“They won’t believe him.” Bucky counters. “Hey, did you know there’s Captain America porn?” 

Steve almost chokes. “Excuse me?”

“There’s a porn parody of everything these days. The guy’s not a bad lookalike, at least in the face area. The dick area—” 

“Bucky.” 

“I gave them that guy’s name when I paid for the room and ordered the food.” 

Steve actually chokes this time. Then he laughs until his stomach hurts. 

He can’t stop until he’s breathless and red-faced, wheezing like he still has asthma. He wipes away tears while Bucky sits there and looks quietly pleased with himself. 

When the giggles subside he leans over and plants a greasy kiss on the corner of Bucky’s smile. Bucky chases his mouth and nips his lower lip, and for a minute they sit just like that, twisting at an awkward angle to exchange slow scattered kisses. 

With hunger out of the way, Steve’s top priority is getting Bucky horizontal again, so he shoves the pizza boxes out of the way and tugs-lifts-tackles him onto the bed. 

“Feeling better, I take it,” Bucky says, grinning. “Seriously, everything okay?” 

“Sorry,” Steve says sheepishly. “I just — I don’t know. I wanted this weekend to be perfect.” 

Bucky’s expression clears, suddenly. “God, you’re such a romantic.” 

“I mean, it would’ve been romantic, if everything had gone according to plan.”  

“You know I’ll say yes even if it’s not perfect, right?” 

All Steve can do is sputter for a solid minute. “You — how did you — how did you figure it out?”

Bucky raises one snarky eyebrow, thumbs stroking Steve’s shoulderblades before he surges up for a quick kiss. Then his lips twitch as he tries to hold back a chuckle. 

“You didn’t buy a ring, did you? ‘Cause I hate to break it to you, but… that might be problematic.” He pokes Steve in the side with one metal finger. 

“No! I just — I wanted it to be special!”

Bucky rolls his eyes in a way that somehow conveys an entire lifetime of mingled exasperation and affection. 

“Pal, I’m part robot and you’re Captain America. Doesn’t get much more special than that.” 

“I had a whole speech!” 

“Now there’s something you don’t see often: Captain America making a speech.” 

“Wow.” 

“No, I’m sure it was a good one. Lemme guess, the words ‘til the end of the line’ were involved. Am I right?”  

“Wow.”

He’s laughing too hard for it to be considered a real kiss, but he can’t help it. 

Steve’s about to pull away when Bucky wraps both arms around him and kisses back, and suddenly there’s nothing playful about it; it’s startlingly slow and deep and urgent, with a hitched inhale and an exhale that comes out shaky. 

Steve can’t quite catch his breath either. 

“You really thought you had to ask?” Bucky whispers. Neither of them pull away; their noses brush, and they’re breathing the same warm close air. 

“Told you, I wanted it to be special. You deserve that.” He expects a sarcastic retort, but Bucky’s serious and silent. “Sometimes I worry… I’ll let you down. After all this time — I don’t want you to get bored. Don’t want you to think I take you for granted.” 

“Honestly? The boring stuff is my favorite.” 

“You don’t have to say that just to make me feel better, Buck.” 

“After everything that’s happened —” His voice has gone rough, and he pauses to lick his lips and take a breath. “Boredom still feels like a luxury. Getting to muddle through the everyday shit together… I love it. Even when you’re being a goddamn diva.” 

Steve lets out a wobbly chuckle. “Jerk.” 

“We both shoulda died a few times over by now. You know? It all feels special. I’m never gonna get over that.”  Bucky bites his lip, and his expression is wide-open and vulnerable, no trace of the usual laughter in his eyes. “So if you want a piece of paper making it official, that’s fine by me. But as far as I’m concerned… it was a done deal a long time ago.” 

“Yeah,” Steve manages. “Yeah, okay.” 

Then it’s bruising lips and feverish heat, a simmering need that’s so perfect and dizzying that for a few minutes, Steve forgets about the questionable duvet and the sticky wallpaper and absolutely everything else. 

They could be anywhere: crappy motel room, Brooklyn tenement, mountain cabin, Army base — Steve’s never been able to focus on their surroundings or anything else for that matter, not when Bucky’s around. This kind of love’s not just blind, it’s blinding. 

“You can go through the whole thing anyway, if it makes you feel better,” Bucky interrupts.

“Huh?” 

“I know you need to deliver an inspiring speech at least once a week or you get all backed up.” 

“I’m starting to think I should take it all back.”

“No, really. I’m sure it would’ve been very eloquent.” 

“Shut up and get your clothes off already.” 

“Is that an order, Captain?” 

“Yes.” 

“See? Who needs romance when — oh. Oh, hey, do that again.” 

.

.

.

[dhominis]

misc. life things (low-content, pretty much happy, CWs for food and kink mention and stressful parental situation).

- My ideal posthuman physical presentation has afaict remained more stable than the vast majority of my personality traits over the past few years. This is extremely amusing to me.

- Saw a post about being touch-starved and realized I’m... really not, any more. The ideal amount of physical intimacy is still “more” -- always will be, I suspect -- but there are people who touch me now. I am not half a continent away from my partner; there are other people I can cuddle with; people hug me sometimes. Even at my workplace, my coworkers don’t seem touch-averse -- pats on the back, et cetera. I’ve been feeling so connected. (But definitely still hug me or otherwise do physical intimacy if you ever interact with me IRL; more is better.)

- Bought groceries today. It had been nearly a month since the last time. I walked the mile back with thirty pounds of food, mostly flour and sugar and potatoes and onions. My body responds well to physical activity; this is not a difficult task, now. And I made food after, a thick bean-and-potato soup, and enjoyed it -- eating is not itself pleasant for me, but I am able to appreciate food as a craft, as the result of effort. Perhaps this is the key. Associate positive affect from creating a thing, from going out and hunting for food and dragging the spoils back to my cave, with the act of eating. (Normal primate things.) It is essential for me to find ways to make eating more tolerable and I am glad I found this one.

- Chopping onions for the soup made me produce tears. And... then I was scrolling through Tumblr, and I noticed I was getting way more emotional about things? Which, y’know, kind of makes sense, given that I’m also the kind of person for whom menthol cream helps stop panic attacks (admittedly I have had one or two panic attacks ever, but it still works -- “your hands are tingling because you put menthol cream on them, not because you are having anxiety; you are having shortness of breath because your lungs don’t like evaporated menthol; your physical symptoms all can be better attributed to menthol cream”). Onions made me cry and onion-crying made me have emotions. Sometimes I love having a body inc. brain.

- (I think maybe I’m into that. Crying, I mean. Took a selfie; looking at it gave me this extraordinarily disconcerting feeling of wanting to dom myself. God, I need to find a sub. I’m even the wrong gender, come on, this is just interpersonal pica at this point.)

- Things that I used to fantasize about keep happening. Some of these are like “I have a partner” or “a friend hugs me”; others are weirdly specific in ways that are dependent on other people, and I am vaguely confused about this being a repeated occurrence.

- Working full-time is so much less horrible for my brain than undergrad was. I... don’t think I realized that life could be this low-stress. There’s just -- I have free time? I have cognitive space for things that are not school? I do a few twelve-hour shifts and then the time I’m not spending at work is mine? Admittedly in practice “mine” means “to be split between personal pursuits and Adulting Things,“ but that’s still so much easier.

- Dealing with stressors is easier now. My stress-reduction algorithm is, like, “wait until I’m done with work if applicable, be at home, write down thoughts about the stressor, figure out what I can do to fix the stressor, if there’s a thing I can do then do it, otherwise/after that do some stress-reduction things including talking to people, also keep checking whether there’s a thing I can do.” And -- when I lived with my parents, it was like “figure out whether I can find an excuse to stay in my room or not be at home so they don’t notice I’m under stress, figure out the best way to manage their reactions if they find out about it, determine whether there’s a way I can fix the stressor, do that if I can do it without them intervening, try to find a stress-reduction thing that they won’t notice, oh fuck how am I going to convince them that I don’t need their intervention if they do notice, oh god I should’ve moved out years ago but I’d never be able to cope with it, they’re right --” and I’m not in that space now. It’s... not easy, exactly, but I think this is what stress is supposed to feel like.

- I am so lucky to have people. Not being specific because it’s vaguely weird, but... my partner and her family are so good, poly and kink community people are great, I helped with an event setup thing a while ago and it was just community, everyone’s so willing to help, I get to ask people “hey do you want to get coffee and talk about this cool thing,” last week I ran into a friend-of-a-friend who works at the same place as me and we had a really nice conversation, my coworkers are so nice, there’s a new hire on the night shift who seems really cool, and -- it’s good. Knowing people; being able to just have casual friendly interactions. Having people I can text when I’m lonely or bored. Making friends!

- oh god im turning into an extrovert. help

- I... people are treating me like just another person. Not the smartest student they’ve ever had, not an extraordinarily fragile and delicate child -- just a person. It’s nice. I haven’t had that before. Life is good.

[avoresmith]

interesting dazai quotes

So I read The Setting Sun and No Longer Human recently, and each has characters that probably inspire Asagiri’s version of Dazai a lot. In the Setting Sun Naoji (the MC’s brother) is the Dazai-like, and in No Longer Human, it’s the protagonist himself. 

I read about both books on Wiki and honestly wasn’t interested in them at all. the bullet points of the stories just sound kind of boring. But Dazai’s writing is honestly lovely, and his character work is great. But I only realized that once I saw some of the author’s own work. I won’t give context for many of these, but if you get curious, I highly encourage you to check them out!

Oh and CW for some very pro-suicide stuff. Uh. Dazai writes it better than Asagiri does. And additional CW for some reference to CSA.

Also, spoilers, obvs.

First, Naoji in The Setting Sun:

I want to spend my time with people who don't look to be respected. But such good people won't want to spend their time with me.

When I pretended to be precocious, people started the rumor that i was precocious. When I acted like an idler, rumor had it I was an idler. When I pretended I couldn't write a novel, people said I couldn't write. When I acted like a liar, they called me a liar. When I acted like a rich man, they started the rumor I was rich. When I feigned indifference, they classed me as the indifferent type. But when I inadvertently groaned because I was really in pain, they started the rumor that I was faking suffering.

The world is out of joint.

Doesn't that mean in effect that I have no choice but suicide?

In spite of my suffering, at the thought that I was sure to end up by killing myself, I cried aloud and burst into tears. 

Solemnity = feeling of idiocy 

It is painful for the plant which is myself to live in the atmosphere and light of this world. Somewhere an element is lacking which would permit me to continue. I am wanting. It has been all I could do to stay alive up to now.

When I entered high school and first came in contact with friends of an aggressively sturdy stock, boys who had grown up in a class entirely different from my own, their energy put me on the defensive, and in the effort not to give in to them, I had recourse to drugs. 

I became coarse. I learned to use coarse language. But it was half—no, sixty per cent—a wretched imposture, an odd form of petty trickery. As far as the “people” were concerned, I was a stuck-up prig who put them all on edge with my affected airs. They would never really unbend and relax with me. On the other hand, it is now impossible for me to return to those salons I gave up. Even supposing that my coarseness is sixty per cent artifice, the remaining forty per cent is genuine now. 

It may be true that in any society defective types with low vitality like myself are doomed to perish, not because of what they think or anything else, but because of themselves. I have, however, some slight excuse to offer. I feel the overwhelming pressure of circumstances which make it extremely difficult for me to live.

“What’s all this rationalizing for? Anyone can see that he’s a playboy from way back, a lazy, lecherous, selfish child of pleasure.” Up to now when people have spoken of me that way I have always nodded vaguely in embarrassment, but now that I am on the point of death, I would like to say a word by way of protest. I have never derived the least joy out of amusements. Perhaps that is a sign of the impotence of pleasure. I ran riot and threw myself into wild diversions out of the simple desire to escape from my own shadow — being an aristocrat.

Undoubtedly you will weep when you learn the news—apart, of course, from such ornamental sentimentality as you may indulge in—but if you will please try to think of my joy at being liberated completely from the suffering of living and this hateful life itself, I believe that your sorrow will gradually dissolve.

Any man who criticizes my suicide and passes judgment on me with an expression of superiority, declaring (without offering the least help) that I should have gone on living my full complement of days, is assuredly a prodigy among men quite capable of tranquilly urging the Emperor to open a fruit shop.

This is actually a character speaking about Yozo in the prologue of No Longer Human:

He is a student in this picture, although it is not clear whether it dates from high school or college days. At any rate, he is now extraordinarily handsome. But here again the face fails inexplicably to give the impression of belonging to a living human being. [. . . ] And yet somehow it is not the smile of a human being: it utterly lacks substance, all of what we might call the “heaviness of blood” or perhaps the “solidity of human life”—it has not even a bird’s weight. It is merely a blank sheet of paper, light as a feather, and it is smiling.

The rest of these will be from Yozo:

I have been sickly ever since I was a child and have frequently been confined to bed. How often as I lay there I used to think what uninspired decorations sheets and pillow cases make. It wasn’t until I was about twenty that I realized that they actually served a practical purpose, and this revelation of human dullness stirred dark depression in me.

It drove me indeed to the brink of lunacy. I wonder if I have actually been happy. People have told me, really more times than I can remember, ever since I was a small boy, how lucky I was, but I have always felt as if I were suffering in hell. It has seemed to me in fact that those who called me lucky were incomparably more fortunate than I.

I simply don’t understand. I have not the remotest clue what the nature or extent of my neighbor’s woes can be. Practical troubles, griefs that can be assuaged if only there is enough to eat—these may be the most intense of all burning hells, horrible enough to blast to smithereens my ten misfortunes, but that is precisely what I don’t understand: if my neighbors manage to survive without killing themselves, without going mad, maintaining an interest in political parties, not yielding to despair, resolutely pursuing the fight for existence, can their griefs really be genuine?

If that is the case, their sufferings should be easy to bear: they are the common lot of human beings and perhaps the best one can hope for. I don’t know ... If you’ve slept soundly at night the morning is exhilarating, I suppose. What kind of dreams do they have? What do they think about when they walk along the street?

[. . .]

The more I think of it, the less I understand. All I feel are the assaults of apprehension and terror at the thought that I am the only one who is entirely unlike the rest. It is almost impossible for me to converse with other people. What should I talk about, how should I say it?—I don’t know.

This was how I happened to invent my clowning. It was the last quest for love I was to direct at human beings. Although I had a mortal dread of human beings I seemed quite unable to renounce their society.

I managed to maintain on the surface a smile which never deserted my lips; this was the accommodation I offered to others, a most precarious achievement performed by me only at the cost of excruciating efforts within.

Again, I never once answered back anything said to me by my family. The least word of reproof struck me with the force of a thunderbolt and drove me almost out of my head. Answer back! Far from it, I felt convinced that their reprimands were without doubt voices of human truth speaking to me from eternities past; I was obsessed with the idea that since I lacked the strength to act in accordance with this truth, I might already have been disqualified from living among human beings.

I thought, “As long as I can make them laugh, it doesn’t matter how, I’ll be all right. If I succeed in that, the human beings probably won’t mind it too much if I remain outside their lives. The one thing I must avoid is becoming offensive in their eyes: I shall be nothing, the wind, the sky.”

Whenever I was asked what I wanted my first impulse was to answer “Nothing.” The thought went through my mind that it didn’t make any difference, that nothing was going to make me happy.

At the same time I was congenitally unable to refuse anything offered to me by another person, no matter how little it might suit my tastes. When I hated something, I could not pronounce the words, “I don’t like it.” When I liked something I tasted it hesitantly, furtively, as though it were extremely bitter.

I acquired my reputation at school less because I was the son of a rich family than because, in the vulgar parlance, I had “brains.”

I had succeeded in escaping from being respected. My report card was all A’s except for deportment, where it was never better than a C or a D. This too was a source of great amusement to my family.

Already by that time I had been taught a lamentable thing by the maids and menservants; I was being corrupted. I now think that to perpetrate such a thing on a small child is the ugliest, vilest, cruelest crime a human being can commit. But I endured it. I even felt as if it enabled me to see one more particular aspect of human beings.

I smiled in my weakness. If I had formed the habit of telling the truth I might perhaps have been able to confide unabashedly to my father or mother about the crime, but I could not fully understand even my own parents. To appeal for help to any human being—I could expect nothing from that expedient. Supposing I complained to my father or my mother, or to the police, the government—I wondered if in the end I would not be argued into silence by someone in good graces with the world, by the excuses of which the world approved.

It is only too obvious that favoritism inevitably exists: it would have been useless to complain to human beings. So I said nothing of the truth. I felt I had no choice but to endure whatever came my way and go on playing the clown.

I also have the impression that many women have been able, instinctively, to sniff out this loneliness of mine, which I confided to no one, and this in later years was to become one of the causes of my being taken advantage of in so many ways. Women found in me a man who could keep a love secret.

The ensuing days were imprinted with my anxiety and dread. I continued on the surface making everybody laugh with my miserable clowning, but now and then painful sighs escaped my lips. Whatever I did Takeichi would see through it, and I was sure he would soon start spreading the word to everyone he saw.

If it were possible, I felt, I would like to keep a twenty-four hours a day surveillance over Takeichi, never stirring from him, morning, noon or night, to make sure that he did not divulge the secret. I brooded over what I should do: I would devote the hours spent with him to persuading him that my antics were not “on purpose” but the genuine article; if things went well I would like to become his inseparable friend; but if this proved utterly impossible, I had no choice but to pray for his death. Typically enough, the one thing that never occurred to me was to kill him.

During the course of my life I have wished innumerable times that I might meet with a violent death, but I have never once desired to kill anybody. I thought that in killing a dreaded adversary I might actually be bringing him happiness.

Even Takeichi seemed not to be aware of the hypocrisy, the scheming, behind my actions. Far from it—his comment as he lay there with his head pillowed in my lap was, “I’ll bet lots of women will fall for you!”—It was his illiterate approximation of a compliment.

I have always found the female of the human species many times more difficult to understand than the male. In my immediate family women outnumbered the men, and many of my cousins were girls. There was also the maidservant of the “crime.” I think it would be no exaggeration to say that my only playmates while I was growing up were girls.

Nevertheless, it was with very much the sensation of treading on thin ice that I associated with these girls. I could almost never guess their motives. I was in the dark; at times I made indiscreet mistakes which brought me painful wounds.

Women led me on only to throw me aside; they mocked and tortured me when others were around, only to embrace me with passion as soon as everyone had left. Women sleep so soundly they seem to be dead. Who knows? Women may live in order to sleep.

[. . .]

These and various other generalizations were products of an observation of women since boyhood days, but my conclusion was that though women appear to belong to the same species as man, they are actually quite different creatures, and these incomprehensible, insidious beings have, fantastic as it seems, always looked after me.

The pictures I drew were so heart-rending as to stupefy even myself. Here was the true self I had so desperately hidden. I had smiled cheerfully; I had made others laugh; but this was the harrowing reality. I secretly affirmed this self, was sure that there was no escape from it, but naturally I did not show my pictures to anyone except Takeichi.

[. . .]

On the other hand, I was equally afraid that they might not recognize my true self when they saw it, but imagine that it was just some new twist to my clowning—occasion for additional snickers. This would have been most painful of all. I therefore hid the pictures in the back of my cupboard.

I soon came to understand that drink, tobacco and prostitutes were all excellent means of dissipating (even for a few moments) my dread of human beings. I came even to feel that if I had to sell every last possession to obtain these means of escape, it would be well worth it.

(At this point Kindle got mad at me for copying and pasting too many excerpts to a friend (I wonder why!!) and so I stopped doing it, there was only one other thing I wanted to share enough to type it out myself:)

[. . .] I knew that the facts were certain to be discovered, but I was afraid to state them as they were. One of my tragic flaws is the compulsion to add some sort of embellishment to every situation - a quality which has made people call me at times a liar - but I have almost never embellished in order to bring myself any advantage; it was rather that I had a strangulating fear of that cataclysmic change in the atmosphere the instant the flow of a conversation flagged, and even when I knew that it would later turn to my disadvantage, I frequently felt obliged to add, almost inadvertently, my word of embellishment, out of a desire to please born of my usual desperate mania for service. This may have been a twisted form of my weakness, an idiocy, but the habit it engendered was taken full advantage of by the so-called honest citizens of the world.

Some final notes:

Dazai (the author) writes with a lot of character, and he tends to have characters who echo a specific miserable perspective on life which is widely believed to be informed by Dazai’s own thoughts. However, they are different characters. Naoji speaks of playing the clown out of genuine love and Yozo persistently is completely dispassionate about just about everyone in his life, even the people he behaves in loving ways towards. 

Dazai (the character) is certainly going to be his own as well, since he does and acts in many ways unlike either character. For one, while Dazai acts the buffoon he deliberately does it to antagonize, which is a complete 180 from Yozo’s motivations and how he is perceived by just about everyone. Making people constantly irritated at him would have sent Yozo into a regular state of panic. 

But there is certainly A Perspective here, which I think is hugely influential in how Asagiri portrays Dazai and also probably very #relatable to a great many people. 

I know it seems like I quoted a lot but there is also plenty more where that came from, so if you found it interesting, please read the novels!

[fabermemorialrink]

ask if there is some mistake

This is the first part of a fic I tried to write for the omgcp big bang before I realized I’d never finish on time. It’s still not finished hahaha but I thought I’d just slowly upload it here. Please let me know if you have questions/concerns!

Content tags and warnings: magic, secretly a high school AU, offscreen minor character death, violence, minor mention of blood, implied/referenced racism, attempted murder, mentions of terminal illness, fake geography, some creepiness.

Derek isn't lost, because in order to be lost you need to have wanted to be somewhere in the first place, and all he wants is to be anywhere but at school.

It's been three weeks since he started at the academy, and he’s not sure he’ll ever like being in Andover. It’s different from home in all the wrong ways, and the same as home in all the other wrong ways, and he hates it. Everyone’s stuck up, or aloof, or doesn’t think Derek’s worth the time of day, and already he spends most of his days anxious and homesick. At least he kind of likes most of his classes, and there’s a reprieve in the form of hockey, which is the only bright spot in the whole mess of bad feelings that Andover represents. At least the team makes an effort to embrace and welcome their freshmen.

But today’s been nothing but hit after hit against Derek’s psyche, from a miserable time spent in math trying to catch up on a confusing problem, to being partnered with the most obnoxious douche in the whole class for physics, and almost ruining his whole English essay when he spilled milk all over his desk during breakfast. And he can’t even vent to anyone because he has no fucking friends at this terrible school, and none of his parents are available to skype. Mama is still overseas, dad’s in meetings all day, and mom is in the ER until who knows when.

Which is why he’s wandering through the woods on a Friday afternoon like the loser he is, trying and failing to commune with nature because he’s inescapably turned around after tumbling over a log and rolling down a small dip in the ground. There’s nothing worse than a few bruises on his legs and stray scratches on his palms, but even after climbing back over the ridge, he feels more confused than before. Were those flowers there originally? Did he turn left after that oak, or down a few yards farther, where those conifers are rotting away?

Was the sky always this hard to see through the leaves?

Derek decides that when he makes it back out he’ll check out a book on orienteering before attempting this again. He's always liked being outdoors, but the tiny oases of greenery in New York are nothing like the thick overgrowth of trees and ferns and brambles that blanket everything west of the campus. He can see the edge of the forest from his dorm room, but he's never ventured in before today. There are stories about the woods that everyone at Andover knows: they’re haunted, someone got murdered there once, a cult lives up in the trees, etc, but Derek would literally rather hang with ghosts than spend another minute with anyone else in his dorm. He can only act chill around those people for so long.

And he’s deep in it now, surrounded by trees and shrubs on all sides, no discernible difference in any direction as to where to exit. And his phone can't reach cell service or his data network here, so he can't even call for help. Maybe he shouldn't have kept looping around every time he thought he saw a familiar path, because at a certain point, the whole forest seems to have closed in on him, dense and heavy, all the plants here more tangled and looming than ever before. There are barely any patches of sky visible anymore, and his eyes can't see anything more than earthy shadows and leaves in the far distance.

It's quiet this far into the woods. Derek is pretty sure that isn't normal.

There's nothing to do except to keep moving, though evening is starting to settle in quickly along with the autumn chill. He really hopes he doesn't have to sleep out here for the night; if he gets sick, coach will bench him and he's already got enough difficulty fitting in everywhere else. The only company he has is the sound of cracking twigs underfoot and the thin whisper of wind against drying leaves, but he’s no more lonely than he ever is during class or in the dining hall. At least out here, he has the excuse of being alone.

Until he doesn’t. From somewhere behind him comes the telltale crunch of someone else’s weight against a fallen branch, and Derek spins on his toes, trying to locate the sound. His excitement dims when he doesn’t see anything - maybe it was just an animal making itself scarce after noticing Derek. So he shuffles along a few more feet, and there! Another noise in the dark of the trees, following Derek as he goes.

“Is someone there?” he finally asks after spinning around several times like a doofus, unable to spot his stalker. He fights to keep his voice level because he’s one to roll with new situations as they come, but he’s also not an idiot, and at least a little genre savvy. Derek knows what happens to black kids in horror stories, and he is so not here for that shit.

But he’s holding out hope that his life is more low-lit, indie playlist Bildungsroman than a no-budget slasher in the woods flick, and that tonight he'll meet his future the-one-that-got-away instead of a roaming axe murderer on the loose. “Hello?” he calls again, advancing a few steps forward and seriously debating the merits of arming himself with the pointiest stick he can find.

After another few agonizing seconds during which Derek thinks he might just bolt and pray that he’s running toward the edge of the woods, someone finally responds.

“What are you doing here?”

Derek spins again, but still can’t see a single thing besides an endless parade of trees. Awkwardly, he raises his voice and shouts back, “I think I’m lost?”

There’s something that sounds like a muffled curse or two but Derek can’t really make out the words.

A person finally emerges from the shadows, and Derek notices that it's a boy around his age, with hair the gold-spun orange of the foliage above them and peculiar amber eyes to match. He's holding an unlit lantern and a hatchet loosely by his side and looks extraordinarily aggrieved by Derek’s presence in the woods. Maybe it's his secret hiding place and he thinks Derek’s intruding? If there’s anyone who understands the need to have a secret, safe spot just for himself, it’s Derek, so he holds his hands up non-threateningly, and gives his best ‘errant but harmless’ smile. It’s a few shades more sheepish and less affected than his ‘regretfully participating in high society but still charming’ one.

“Oh, hey, dude!” He wouldn't normally be so enthused to speak to someone who looks like they kind of want to punch him in the face, but from the way this kid is dressed (flannel and a thick vest and jeans) he seems like he totally gets the outdoors, and can rescue Derek from himself before he gets stranded in the forest for the night. “Any way you can help me get outta here? I was just chilling with the trees and stuff but, uh, got kinda turned around on my way back out.”

The boy glares at Derek for a few more seconds, before his eyes dart sideways at something Derek can't see even when he squints. Whatever it is, it makes up Derek’s new ginger friend’s mind, because he holsters his hatchet and stalks forward to gesture irritably at Derek until he starts walking in the right direction. They trek forward several yards while Derek studies his companion from the corner of his eye. He doesn't look like the kind of boy who attends Andover, which Derek considers a compliment more than anything, but it's a probably a little judgmental so he keeps it to himself. He's a couple of inches taller than Derek is, still in the gangly phase of his life, with large ears, broad shoulders, and a whole universe of freckles sunbursting across his skin.

It seems like they’re just going to walk in silence until Derek trips over a gnarled root snaking up out of the grass and belly-flops into the ferns. The other boy snorts out a noise, expressing some mix of amusement and alarm, and reaches down to drag Derek back to his feet. He waits as Derek dusts the soil off his shirt, telling him dryly, “Starting to see how you wound up here.”

“Hey, I’ve got the flowing grace of a gazelle in the desert,” Derek sniffs, but there’s a slight thrill of pride when the boy almost smiles as he responds, just as dryly as before, “We’re in a forest.”

“Oh. That might explain it.”

“It might. Or you might just be a walking trainwreck.”

“Whoa, chill on the snap judgments, bro.”

“Can you call it a snap judgment if I just saw you almost trip over your own foot again?” The boy points with his lantern at Derek’s traitorous right foot, which Derek shakes ruefully. “There’s a branch up ahead under the brush; watch out.”

They continue walking as the day dwindles toward twilight, Derek’s companion never faltering as he leads him on. Derek figures he must spend a lot of time out here if he’s so confidently marching along, and starts wondering what his story is. “So, do you go to Phillips Academy?” he asks after the boy stops to flick his lantern on. “I’ve never seen you around, but then again, I don’t really know a lot of people yet. My name’s D-”

Before he can get even the whole syllable out his face is stinging. The boy has slapped his hand over Derek’s mouth, holding tight on Derek’s face and arm as he looks around wildly at the canopy of the trees and the shadows that lay before their path, drawn long and eerie around the lantern left sitting in the grass. It all looks the same to Derek: blotches of brown and green tinged with autumn warmth, but there's a hideous unease that grows heavy in the pit of his stomach as each second drags on. He stays stock still, because if there’s some kind of wild boar or killer land shark out there he has no fricking idea how to defend himself, so he should just leave it to hatchet boy here, but before he can even begin to formulate a plan the kid whirls on him, still amped up like that guy on the team (Brian? B something? S...shitty??) after three cans of Red Bull.

“No names,” he hisses after releasing Derek’s face, his nails digging into Derek’s wrist where he’s squeezing hard enough to ache. “Never tell me your real name. Don’t say it, don’t even think it, do you understand?”

Derek is caught between a nice variety of responses; top two contenders are “what the actual fuck is your damage” and “what’d you do to get such solid grip strength” but the boy looks genuinely terrified. Of what, Derek can’t tell, but it’s enough to hold back the retort sitting on the tip of his tongue. He looks at those wide golden eyes, takes in how his breath is coming out in harsh, shallow gasps and his hand feels clammy and sick against Derek’s skin, and decides that now is not the time to be undiplomatic.

“Okay, no names, cool. I got it,” he says, playing as calm as he can, the way dad taught him in order to keep the situation from escalating. His day’s been enough of a bummer already; he really doesn’t need to cap it off with a fist fight against a lumberjack’s son.

The boy drops Derek’s hand like a hot coal when he realizes he’s still holding on too tight. “Sorry,” he mutters, skittering away so there’s ample room between them. “Just- you gotta be careful, y’know?”

Derek doesn’t know, actually, but he can go with the flow, so he shrugs casually, and they keep walking. “So, do you live around here?” he tries asking again.

The boy’s mouth twists up into a humorless smile. “Something like that. You- you said that you go to PA?”

“Yeah, I’m a freshman.”

“Then shouldn’t you know not to come out to the woods? Don’t you know the stories?”

He’s watching Derek with strange intensity, those bright eyes staring through him. They’re a really striking color, Derek thinks absently to himself, like wildflower honey, or polished amber.

“I mean, I know all the rumors and stuff? Murder and cultists, right?”

“Right. And you've heard the news bulletins before.” At Derek's blank look, he elaborates. “The missing persons reports that always seem to end in a dead body? You know, those people who somehow wander in and never find their way back out alive?”

Now that he mentions it, it does seem familiar. The local paper had an article about yet another body turning up on the north side of the forest shortly before the school year began. He supposes the implication there is that this has happened before. Perhaps the stories have some basis in reality.

“Oh.”

“Yep. And you still thought this was a good idea?”

“It’s not like I came out here to fuck with the ghosts. I just wanted to find somewhere” -to get away from everything- “to chill for a little bit. Like, connect with nature and shit. I’m from the city, so I guess I didn’t realize I was getting in over my head? Or that all the rampant woodland homicide was real?”

“Look...guy, I’ve gotta tell you,” the boy starts, and Derek instinctively offers his name in response, yet again only getting the “d” out before being assailed by five feet and ten inches of panicking redhead.

“No names!” the boy practically shrieks at Derek, who throws his hands up in frantic apology.

“Sorry, sorry! I forgot!”

“Christ, of all the- just, look. Do you have a nickname or something?”

“Nursey?” Derek says tentatively. It’s based on his name, as hockey nicknames are wont to be, but maybe it’s okay?

The boy eyes him suspiciously for a moment, before his gaze flickers off into the depths of the forest again, but finally he nods. “Okay. Nursey. I’m not saying the murder rumors are true, but it's an objective fact that people have died in these woods. Someone like you shouldn’t be out here,” which Derek bristles at before he continues, “You’re clearly a city boy, and I don’t wanna see you getting hurt. The woods are dangerous. Just stay safe in your fancy, preppy dorm at your fancy, preppy school, alright?”

“But I hate it there,” Derek blurts before he can censor himself. Before the even-keeled, tactful responses that mama’s taught him to reach for in times of crisis can float to the surface of his thoughts.

The boy tilts his head slightly, eyeing Derek before asking, “Too many miserable, entitled, rich white kids for you to handle?”

“Yeah,” Derek says, swallowing around the dryness in his throat. He regrets saying it out loud, because an admission of vulnerability can be like blood in the water if he's not with the right people, but the kid nods, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

“Well, fuck those guys.”

“That’s kinda how I’m feeling.”

“Still, you're gonna have to find a way to survive for the next couple of years that doesn’t involve hiding in the woods. I mean it. There’s nothing good for you here. Go to a park or something if you want to enjoy nature.”

Derek wants to argue some more, because yeah, he’s out of his element now, but he could learn. Buy a hatchet and lantern like this guy, pick up some outdoors living skills and learn to forage for mushrooms.

But half a minute later they’re at the edge of the woods, and he can see the lamps outside his dorm across the soccer field. It seems so obviously visible now, even under the setting sun, and Derek ponders how on earth he got so lost earlier. They’ve been walking together for only about fifteen minutes, and Derek had been wandering the woods on his own for over two hours before that.

“Wow, you’re great at directions,” he says stupidly, and the boy gives him that almost-smile again.

“And you’re not. Another reason for you to stay on campus. G’night, then.” He waves Derek off once the hit the outer limits of the forest, hanging back by a thin tree.

It’s getting late, and Derek’s definitely due for a run to the dining hall before it closes, but he lingers another moment. “What’s your n- uh, I mean, what can I call you?” he asks. At the very least, he should learn who his savior is.

With another sideways look at Derek, this one less suspicious and more surprised, the boy purses his lips and tells him, “Dex. You can call me Dex, if we ever see each other again, I guess. But keep away from the woods, Nursey. I don’t trust your dumb ass not to lose a limb if you come trampling through here again.”

“Kay,” Derek agrees, glad he’s not making a promise because it’s likely one he would break.

He thanks Dex for rescuing him and starts jogging home. Halfway across the field, he turns to look back, but there’s no longer anyone standing among the trees.

[daemominus]

With the child on his lap, Wamuu extends out his arms both left and right of him, however holding them down low as to be easily within the child's reach. With his palms facing one another, a small gyre of wind hardly capable of doing any harm moves between them. "Do not worry, boy, it won't harm you." He chuckles softly. "Go on, try it. I will help you with it." He encourages him with a soft smile.

[ @wind-warrior ]

As if in sheer spite of Wamuu’s confidence, the yearling drew backward anyway. Though his eyes had widened to the shape of saucers, he was not so convinced that he should attempt a touch at something extraordinarily strange to him. Reason had not yet come along to nip at his brain, but he’d soon grown secured in the fact that he saw nothing to come of what he could only describe as wind held steadily. Controlled. Naturally, Vergil felt emboldened by this. A hand tentatively reached for the element, just two fingers quite enough to graze it—but he hadn’t gotten that far. The faintest phantom blow against his sensitive digits compelled him to withdraw, if only because the sensation was a bit more than he could handle given the visuals provided his eyes. It was strange, it might have rendered itself incomprehensible to a mind still under growth. But Vergil was tactful in his retreat, only moving his body backward without dramatics. Upon his face came to rest a frown, but not in displeasure. Wamuu wanted him to do this, yes? Not merely touch it…

Small arms attempted to mimic a larger pair without perceptible hesitation. Palms were brought together at about the same distance observed, and there appeared a sharper dip of little dark brows out of whatever focus possessing their owner. He gave it a minute, two minutes, frowned harder, turned his eyes into daggers—alas, he’d begun cramping in his muscles from the tension driven into his effort. Briefly did he clasp his hands, thinking that upon separating them, he’d see what he’d been wanting to see. The experiment yielded nothing, and to follow was an overall deflating of the child. “I can’t do it,” he conceded bluntly, tone a mite low out of some vague disappointment. “You can’t make wind like that,” so he complained, believing that general rule would excuse his failure. He peered up, wanting a look at Wamuu, and wanting his look to be seen in turn. “You can, but nobody else does it. How come?” 

[burchlife]

One year in Dallas

Be prepared, this is a 2000 word summary of the year in revision and the year to come.

Crazy to think that I’ve been in Dallas for a year already. I was optimistic but nervous when I moved here, leaving friends and the school routine for something new. Traveling was scary, but it was a temporary scary -I could back out whenever I wanted. I couldn’t back out of a life in Dallas though, I would have a career and (kinda) roots here. Mindset at the time: optimistic, but low-key terrified.

With no caveats, the last year has been the best of my life. Lets run down the list of things in my life:

1. Girl: I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t one of the primary reasons for my happiness. All through college I told myself I’d find someone I liked, that the next stage of my life would introduce someone, but I don’t know I ever really believed myself. Now, randomly, I have someone. And while it’s still early and I don’t want to be hyperbolic, it continually astounds me how much I enjoy her. I’m shocked that I spent 72 straight hours with her, never once got annoyed, and was sad when I had to leave. I don’t know I’ve ever been in a position with a person where, while they’re different in many ways, there’s effectively nothing about them that you don’t like. I didn’t know you could feel that close to someone

Perhaps more importantly, I know she’s made me better. It’s a stereotype, but since I’ve been dating her my confidence is higher, I stay in better shape, I’m more motivated in hobbies and work, and I spent a significantly smaller fraction of my time depressed or worrying about dumb shit. My Saturdays now consist of long walks and adventures and interesting things to do instead of lazing on the couch and feeling like shit by the end of the day. Because I want her to be proud of me when I tell her how my day went. I doubt she’d judge me when I told her my day was boring, but the extra motivation to impress her and be impressive for her is a constant factor and I hope that doesn’t fade.

I can’t say how this relationship will end, but right now I’m happy and I think she is too. It’s hilarious to read my posts from when this started and see my constant expectations of impending doom. After six months of dating I’m slowly starting to reign in the occasional fear that she’ll wake up one morning and be done with me, but I don’t know if I’ll ever get over feeling like she’s better than me and I’m lucky to be with her. She makes my life better.

2. Work: I’m still working through these thoughts as my rotation ends so I probably owe a more detailed post at a later date, but overall I’ve been surprised how much I enjoy the working world. It’s been interesting to see just how much I enjoy making an impact, in IPD I constantly felt like I was doing things that mattered and it made me look forward to getting up to go to work each morning. In RFAB, I rarely did things that mattered, and so it was unrewarding (though the few important things did engage me, showing that anything can be interesting). It’s comforting to know that I can find enjoyment and excitement in what I do, even if it’s working on TI’s most boring parts. 

It’s also reaffirming that I was able to do well in my roles. I’m not sure how much stock to place in reviews and compliments, but I think it’s safe to say that I’m above average and bordering on good. I’ve always had the fear that schoolwork and internships wouldn’t translate to real life; at my internships it always felt like I underwhelmed. It turns out that nobody is capable of doing shit until they get experience and an internship isn’t long enough to do that; once I learned what I was doing I proved to myself I had the traits necessary to be impactful. It’s also oddly reaffirming how ‘held together by duct tape’ the world is. I know that there will always be places for me to impact and improve. I’ve seen that the average employee has a mediocre skillset and gives 50% effort; if I have above average skills and give even 80%, who knows how far I can go?

I’m so excited to go back to IPD. I believe that in two years from now I’ll have made a genuine impact, learned an wide assortment of valuable skills (I think GP is a great boss who will put me in positions to be successful, check back in on this one to see if the opinion has evolved), and will be ready to go make my mark at HBS.

3. Exercise and Reading: Two things that are very easy to fall by the wayside if you’re not careful, and I was afraid that in my adult routine I’d let these fall by the wayside. Exercise has been a resounding success, I’m in the best shape of my life, almost ran a marathon (and will be running one eventually or dying trying), and am back to thinking every day excessive is the expectation. It’s funny how much fitbit has helped here - I’ve gotten better at zero zero days with little more than a reminder of the fact I’ve haven’t moved. I’m also excited about rock climbing, and hoping to stay excited and consistent.

Books are a bit more of a mixed bag, but I’m doing alright given the time constraints put upon by life. If I can hit my 30 books this year I’ll be happy, though it’s not an outright success.

4. Social Life: This was less of a fear upon moving(and has been more of a mixed bag over the last year) but I’m happy with how things have gone. I knew it would be good with Amy, and I hoped it would be good with Jeremy, but I didn’t know whether overall my social life would be enough to make me happy. By and large, it is. I’m extraordinarily close with both Amy and Jeremy like I’d hoped, and have a solid group of auxiliary friends around me that I can hit up whenever I need social interaction. I’ve done good as well at keeping ties with college friends and not letting those relationships die.

Probably the most surprising aspect of my social life though is that I’ve gotten to the point where I need it less and am less terrified about being alone. I think part of that is getting better at being alone while traveling SEA, part is that I’m more confident overall, and part is that work provides more social exposure than I expected. I’m partially excited to go back to IPD for this reason - social life there is 10x better than RFAB.

5. Mindset: In general, I think I’m growing my willpower and getting better at doing the little things that slowly build up to big things. These aren’t huge changes, but rather the habits like flossing daily, keeping the apartment clean, managing my time wisely, and walking every day, that aren’t hard but simply require being done. Even sending an apology to Eric Wilbur is something that I don’t know I would have done a year ago. More and more I’m seeing truth in the saying that willpower is a muscle and as you use it it grows

Here’s my overarching goal for the next year: No wasted time. The most successful people in the world waste effectively zero time. I’m getting better at this, but there are still days where I get home from work and talk to Jeremy for two hours then watch Netflix and go to bed. That’s wasted time. It’s not crippling, but it adds up and those three wasted hours could have been used productively, be it a hobby or reading or social life. The difficulty here is that wasted time doesn’t have a concrete definition: sometimes talking to Jeremy for 6 hours is wasted time, and sometimes it’s necessary catching up. Sometimes laying in bed and watching friends is wasted time, and sometimes its much needed brain shut off. It’s a fluid thing that I can’t always define, but that I can always tell. I need to listen to that feeling more and whenever possible even preempt it.  The past year has seen progress; showing me how rewarding productive time is and motivating me to work even harder.

More specifically, here are the next years goals off the top of my head, in rough order of importance:

1. No regrets on the relationship:  I don’t know how the next year with the girl will go, but I want to make sure that no matter what happens I have no regrets of what I did or didn’t do. Just being cognizant and intentional about the relationship is maybe the single most impactful thing I can do over the next year. Whether this is little things like surprising her, or big things like voicing my fears and complaints, or telling her I love her, or even ending things if they get bad, I want to know I did everything I could to do what is best and right.

2. Develop a hobby I’m passionate about: Rock climbing is a good start, but I want more. I don’t know what but I want to be able to answer “what do you do in your free time?” with an answer that isn’t “run, read, and friends.” Even if those are important, they’ve moved into baseline. No wasted time, use that time on a hobby.

3. Dominate work: I think I’ve done well in my first year, but by next year I want to be better. I want to be the top 10% in the product line, I want people to know that I get things done and I’m the person they go to for questions. I want to be irreplaceable. I think I can do this; IPD offers nothing but opportunity and I think I’m both in a good position and am capable if I push myself. No wasted time at work, use that time to add value.

4. Run that damn marathon: I’m disappointing in not running Toronto, but not disappointing in myself. I put my all into that training and stuck with it, not running was out of my control. I need to do it again, and this time better. 15miles/week until September, and then a real training plan until January. I think I can beat 4 hours finishing time, but I know I can finish. Be consistent, be careful, and be motivated.

5. Fix my diet: Cook more. Right now I eat like shit and I spend too much money eating out. I need to quit with my excuses that prevent me from just coming home from cooking, and I need to cut back on my sugar intake (it’s bad). This is probably the hardest willpower thing I face. I need to do better for so many reasons, from health to finances to feeling better. Working out and being hungry all the time isn’t an excuse to eat an entire bag of candy. No wasted time, just fucking cook dinner it doesn’t take long.

6. Make reading my default: Reading is more rewarding that Netflix or Picross or sitting on the damn couch. Stop wasting time and pick up a book instead, lets go to 30-40 books this year.

Below this the goals are more optional; they’re things I want to do but aren’t as much of priorities.

7. Get enough sleep each night: 7.5 hours/night per fitbit. Life is just so much happier when I prioritize sleep. This is a hard one to prioritize though, as there’s a fine line between wasting time leading to not sleeping and doing important things leading to not sleeping. No wasted time, turn off netflix and go to bed.

8. Branch out in my social life: I’m happy with the friends I have, but I could do better at cultivating a wider network. Whether this is James, or workplace people, or the girl’s friends, or people I haven’t even met, it would be good to grow my social circle wider.

9. Get involved in the community: I don’t know what form this takes, or if this will happen at all, but I need to think more into it. Community engagement has fallen lower on my list as I’ve realized that I’m only here for two years, but it’s not off and I don’t like that it keeps getting lower. 

So yeah; I’m getting complacent I guess. I’m setting a high bar, and I don’t expect to accomplish everything, but the last year has shown me what I’m capable of. I think if I work towards each of these and don’t waste any time, my life will be far happier by next June then it is now.

First year as an adult down and successful, on to the next one. Lets make it better and leave nothing on the table.

[emm-doubleyou]

BONES 12x01: The Hope in the Horror - Recap & Thoughts from a Crazed Fanatic

I have decided that I simply cannot spend each and every week dreading the dwindling number of episodes remaining in this season. It’s not a sustainable mindset. Not for me. So, I am going to take a page from David Boreanaz’s script, and live this season “moment to moment.” At least during the actual episodes. I do not want to squander even one millisecond mourning something that is still playing out on my television screen. I’m not going to adjust my countdown each time an episode airs. Maybe I’ll break in a month or two. But for now, I just need to celebrate every precious moment with my beloved Bones.

Now, for the actual episode...

First and foremost, actually witnessing “Directed by Emily Deschanel” appear in the opening credits was just so wonderfully fulfilling and long overdue after all these years. Similar to her brilliant costar, she did an absolutely magnificent job. I have no doubt long hours, hard work, and shrewd attention to detail went into directing this hour. And really, just...Bravo. And that goes for everyone. The cast, crew, and writers- it was all just astoundingly brilliant. Period. NOT just “for a show in its 12th season.” For any show, any age. Bones always comes to play. But I have a feeling the show will be pulling out all the stops this season. The number of callbacks in this episode alone was impressive. And the premiere was an exciting springboard for the season ahead. 

I suppose I cannot claim that I am currently speechless as a result of this episode. Because I am likely about to betray that assertion with a deluge of words. But I am completely awestruck. It’s not all that surprising.  I have been consistently spoiled by this show, season after season. I always expect to be wowed. But somehow, it really does just keep getting better with age. What’s that saying? Like a fine wine? Disagree with me if you’d like, but my opinion is very much set in stone. 

We have waited six long months for the continuation of this story. But in all honesty, it barely feels like as though a week has passed (for reasons I’ve cited above, but will cannot bear to address again). First and foremost, anyone who thought that the show was going to position Zack as an actual villain- well, I hope everyone feels a little better after this episode. To me, it always seemed like an impossibility. And the real story was so much more complex than that. While Zack is not yet fully vindicated, I think he has at least been absolved in our eyes.

The show picks up almost precisely where it left off back in July. Brennan is still stunned to see Zack Addy sitting across from her. At the very least, he lured her into the lab alone so he could take her against her will. The motive is inconsequential, isn’t it? Presumably, it’s not a situation she would prefer to be in regardless of his intentions. So Brennan makes an effort to get up and leave. But Zack had administered a sedative in order to transport her to this undisclosed location. He advises Brennan against moving, and informs her that she has been asleep for nearly two hours. Brennan attempts to persuade her former assistant to let her go. “If you don’t, Booth will find you. And when he does-” Zack interrupts, as he doesn’t wish to talk about “him.” I wasn’t quite sure what to make of that statement. Booth and Zack never had an easy relationship. Sometimes people are just too different. But Booth still respected his intelligence. And more than that, he respected Brennan’s fondness for him. He once gave Zack advice about going to Iraq. And he even sent him overseas with a harmonica. Booth and Zack essentially spoke different languages. But he was still one of Booth’s people. “We are all of us, your squints.” And Booth would have done anything he could to help Zack. Of that I am sure. Booth and Caroline are basically the reason Zack was not put in prison. “You're gonna give this one to Bones. You understand?” So what was the sudden aversion here? Also of note- Brennan’s confidence in Booth. It’s justified, of course. But she knows he will always find her. And vice versa. We have seen evidence of this time and time again over the years. 

Brennan proceeds to ask the million dollar question. The question we have all been contemplating during this hiatus. At least the most physically obvious one: What happened to Zack’s head? Instead of answering, Zack notes that she has not been to see him in quite some time. I do not know the reason why Brennan stopped coming to visit. I’m sure she feels a bit guilty, especially given her current situation. And I know she still cares for Zack. But life happens. The last few years have been quite eventful for Brennan. There have been extreme highs and severe lows. It sounds like a weak excuse, but maybe Zack just fell through the cracks. The reason is really immaterial at this point. It is what it is. The past is the past. And she tells Zack she wants to help him now. He reacts oddly to this, and makes a comment regarding her previous position as his superior. “Today, the shoe is on the other foot.” It’s a bit unnerving. Why does he want to control her? Or at the very least, control the situation at hand. What are his intentions? If he wanted her dead, she would be dead. And I never actually believed that was his endgame.

Meanwhile, in the lab, Angela had been looking through security tapes of Zack’s movements around the Jeffersonian that evening. He turned off a few of the cameras remotely before taking Brennan from the bone room. And what was most suspicious is that there was no footage of the two of them leaving the building. Cam realizes that perhaps Zack is hiding somewhere inside the Jeffersonian. Hodgins is able to use an explosive trace detector to track the glycerin in Brennan’s hand lotion, which in turn helps him to track Brennan's path through the lab. “It’s like a digital blood hound.” He tracks “Brennan” up to an elevator. And a determined Booth takes over from there. While the elevator also goes five floors up, Booth already knows that he will find Zack in the basement.

Booth stealthily makes his way through the halls of the basement, so as not to startle an unpredictable Zack while he has Brennan. We see the infamous vault from so long ago, and already I love the callbacks this season. The old gilded skeleton makes an appearance as well. It’s certainly been a while. He finally hears Brennan’s voice echoing in an adjacent room. She’s pleading with Zack not to do something. Booth makes his move and comes face to face with the missing pair. He quickly points his gun at Zack, who happens to be holding a syringe near Brennan. But all is not what it seems. As Booth counts to three (before he shoots), Brennan lunges in front of Zack. She explains to Booth that Zack was not going to use the syringe on her. Zack chimes in and informs Booth that he intended to inject himself with the syringe- which actually contains a truth serum. “I need Dr. Brennan to believe me. I didn’t kill anyone.” And just as I suspected, Brennan’s disappearance is resolved before the credits. So how will the rest of the episode unfold? Short answer- in a strange, wonderful, and exhilarating way.

The episode resumes outside of the lab. The parking lot is flooded with law enforcement and flashing lights. With a solemn look on her face, Cam watches an officer escort Zack to the back of a car in handcuffs. Wendell shows up and asks Cam if she’s sure she wants to watch this particular scene unfold. “I needed to see him with my own eyes.” Had anyone been visiting Zack? Wendell admits he didn’t really know him, but just looking at Zack- “You’d think he was as harmless as a child. That’s what we all thought.” Cam finishes his thought. Wendell wonders what finally caused him to crack, as the lobbyist was killed years ago. Cam has no answer. She always knew “Zackarooni” would cause her pain. She was right. 

Booth is frantically trying to get Brennan to see a doctor. I know she wasn’t missing for an objectively significant period of time. But once again, Booth truly felt as though he had almost lost her. Yet again. Even 12 seconds would feel significant. These two people have had to fear each other’s demise more than any normal couple can even fathom. Brennan assures Booth that she is fine, and nothing is wrong with her. Booth is upset because Brennan admitted to him that “maybe Zack didn’t do it.” But she doesn’t want to talk about Zack right now. She only wants to go home and see her kids. THEIR kids. They have kids together. Sorry, I never take that for granted, no matter how many years it has been. It honestly doesn’t matter if Brennan had been missing three minutes, three hours, or three weeks- there is always that chance that something more sinister can occur in their line of work. Booth promises her that their kids are fine. Hank and Christine are safe. But she so desperately wants to see them. He tells her that she just needs to calm down. By the sound of his voice, he sounds as though he is actually trying to convince himself to calm down. He must have been terrified beyond belief. Brennan shuts her eyes and nods. She knows she needs to take a moment. And a breath. The past few days, weeks, and months have been extraordinarily stressful- Worrying about this serial killer, and wondering when and where he would strike again. She was taken by someone who is unpredictable at best. This early in the episode, we don’t yet know Zack’s role in the serial murders. Brennan needed to take pause before throwing herself back into the case. Booth is of the opinion that Zack is guilty, and he reminds her of her nightmares featuring the “guy with burnt hands.” “I had nightmares because of evidence that insinuated Zack.” Booth gets worked up again and yells that “Innocent people don’t escape from sanitariums to proclaim their innocence!” I find it interesting how Booth’s opinion shifts over the course of this episode. For the moment, Brennan agrees with him to a degree. “What Zack did was completely illogical, I know.” Booth interrupts before she can finish her thought. “No, this is not right. There is no other way of looking at this. Zack is a convicted murderer. He tried to kidnap you, and he wanted to kill you.” Brennan responds with the question I think we were all asking ourselves at this point. “Then why didn’t he?” She goes on to point out that Zack could have killed her at any time, especially while she was passed out for two hours in front of him. But he didn’t. She is right. There is something more going on. There is an alternate explanation to all of this. Brennan attempts to maneuver around Booth and out of her office to go talk to Zack. But Booth pulls her into a hug. He tells her to stop talking. He just needs a moment with her. To hold on tight. And she surrenders to it, and falls into him.  She softly tells him she loves him too. Because she needed this as much as he needed it. Booth had to feel her. To know she was there with him, and that she was safe. She needed that reminder as well. This ordeal was far from over. But these two will always find a way of giving me hope in even the darkest or most confounding moments. Always. They are so special. And I have watched this hug about 400 times by now. It will go down as one of the most beautiful moments between these two. Okay, there are about a million of those. But ask any Booth and Brennan fan what they thought about this particular instance and you will most likely be met with a series of guttural sounds and ear-piercing squeals. 

Something else to consider here: This is essentially one of the scenes that was cryptically teased prior to airing. An interaction some people seemed to be unnecessarily concerned about. Booth and Brennan- AT ODDS regarding Zack. But in reality, it was exactly how I expected it to go. Because I know this couple. They would continue to disagree on how to approach this situation. Because they see the world a bit differently. They always have. Though, their individual viewpoints would adjust a bit as the episode progresses. At this moment, Brennan wants to know the entire story before ultimately making a determination. She wants to speak to Zack and hear what he has to say before concluding with any certainty that he is guilty. Something about his behavior is inconsistent with that of this serial killer. And maybe a small part of her would like to irrationally give him the benefit of the doubt. Though, remember, she still believes he killed the lobbyist. The bottom line is that Zack could have killed her, but he didn’t. So why did he take her? If his goal was to kill, then logically, that’s what should have happened. But it didn’t. That’s how her mind works. This would have to play out further before she can make a fair assessment. And Booth is still reeling from Brennan’s disappearance. Tensions are still through the roof. Right now, he only sees a possibly unstable man who kidnapped his wife. It’s not the last time they will disagree in this episode. But it’s also not something that will break them either. I fail to understand why people are so fearful of these types of scenes. It all ultimately comes from love. It’s passion. They can both be stubborn when they believe they are right. Especially as it pertains to the safety of their family. But it’s that heat that initially brought them together. The point is, let’s remember to take  these teases with a grain of salt. Because this isn’t some marriage-threatening fight in which the two of them are engaging. It’s not going to forge a rift between them. Booth and Brennan are going to disagree. We have seen that enough over the years. But they are eventually going to come together, and at least make an attempt to understand from where the other one is coming. It’s how it’s always been. There is no reason to think that these two characters would act any differently at this point. Also, can I just point out the hug once again? In those few seconds, I could feel the love radiating between these two people. These characters are so deeply in love. These actors are so talented. And we are so lucky- and spoiled.

Hodgins has also been greatly affected by this situation. Zack was his best friend. And he really had a difficult time adjusting to the fact that his best friend murdered someone (remember, no one but Sweets knew that this was not the actual truth) and was put in an institution. For a while, he had no interest in getting to know the new interns. He didn’t want to work in Zack’s space. It really hit Hodgins hard all those years ago. And to have to revisit this pain, it’s not easy for him. He’s angry. And that is why he says that he would have shoved the syringe in Zack’s throat if he had caught him in the basement. But his anger would have to be put on hold, as his legs began to pulsate with pain. Wendell is there to help him through the spasming. Hodgins admits the pain in his legs is nothing like the pain he is feeling in his heart. He truly thought Zack was going to kill Brennan. Wendell wonders if there is any possibility Zack could  be telling the truth. ���Stop it, listen to me. Zack is guilty. End of story.” It’s the end of the conversation, but certainly not the end of the story. Hodgins is hurting. I’m not sure he ever really made peace with what Zack “did.” He thought he knew his friend. He trusted him. But his trust was betrayed. I think it does have to be said that Zack kept Hodgins from being injured in that explosion. Zack’s hands were never supposed to be charred. That was not part of the plan.

At the FBI, Aubrey is more than relieved to see Brennan. He envelopes her in a hug, which she does accept. But adds “so much hugging.” I just love these people. She jokes “perhaps I should be kidnapped more often.” But Booth and Aubrey are quick to disagree. Aubrey asks how the kids are. Moment to once again celebrate the fact that Booth and Brennan have kids. Should I be over this yet? It doesn’t matter. I will never be. Max had been taking care of Christine and Hank during this time. And Brennan added that they didn’t even realize she was gone. “Which...is a good thing.” Of course.

Aubrey leads the partners into a conference room to meet Dr. Roshan-  the doctor in charge of Zack’s facility. Brennan inquires as to how Zack managed to escape the facility. Dr. Roshan does not know. But he does provide a box of Zack’s personal effects. “As you can see he was very fond of you, Dr. Brennan.” I have yet to determine whether Zack’s affection for Brennan has crossed the line at this point. Dr. Roshan adds that he is glad to see that Brennan is unharmed. They ask about the three victims who Zack allegedly murdered. The doctor doesn’t believe that Zack could have conceivably and continuously slipped out of the facility undetected to kill these people. But Aubrey shows him photographic evidence that Zack has been regularly “escaping.” There is no way to gauge how long Zack has been coming or going. Aubrey finally asks how Zack managed to sustain the scar on his forehead. It’s disturbing, as far as scarring goes, as it looks almost like a lobotomy scar.

The story starts becoming a bit clearer. We learn that Sweets was regularly visiting Zack over the years. And not just a handful of times. Sweets was there nearly every week. This leads me to believe that no one else in the lab had been visiting their old colleague. Bones time is always a little dicey, but it has been at least a couple years since Sweets was killed. And the others would have undoubtedly noticed his scar, had they been visiting. So why did Booth know precisely where to find Zack’s room in the finale? I cannot speak to that. My best guess is that he called ahead while en route to the institution that night. Maybe he had been there years ago, maybe he hadn’t. There is some sort of logical explanation for it. And no sense in dwelling on on something that is just not essential to the story at hand. Bottom line- it has been a while since even Brennan has seen Zack. Presumably much longer than just a couple years.

Zack’s reaction to Sweets’ murder was apparently startling. He could not process the trauma. In a fit of rage, he caused the injury to his head, himself. “Since then, Zack has been different. ‘Withdrawn’ I think is the best way to describe him.” Aubrey wishes to speak to Zack first. But Brennan wants to be present. And of course, Booth is not on board with that. “Aubrey’s right. Zack wants you, which is the last thing we should give him.” I can certainly see the logic in that. Until they know his true motive, it’s safer to keep Brennan away. She, Booth, and Dr. Roshan watch Aubrey interrogate Zack from behind the glass. Zack has no desire to speak to Aubrey, however, due to his “lesser intellect.”  I’d say it was insulting, but Zack only meant it as an objective statement. Aubrey takes no offense, and asks Zack to explain why he told Brennan he was innocent. “I am innocent.” He claims that the “escaping and kidnapping were necessary evils. I knew her life was in danger.” Aubrey then wonders why Zack didn’t just call Brennan. “I’m not well-versed in social etiquette.” That may be. But kidnapping seems a bit less rational and rather extreme. He only wanted to see her face to face. I suppose this seemed like the most sensible way to him? Booth wants to know how Zack even knew about the killer if he’s innocent. The case has been kept well under wraps and out of the news. Zack admits that he has been routinely reading Brennan’s emails. “Given the evidence (contained in her emails), it was only a matter of time until I was considered the prime suspect.” Zack goes on to explain how he has been “allowing” himself free time outside of the sanitarium. He broke into a library and accessed the computers so he could keep tabs on his “friends and colleagues.” He names Brennan, Hodgins, Angela, and Cam. I don’t quite understand why he initially decided to start hacking into his friends’ accounts. Was it just because he wanted to feel close to them? Did he miss them? Was he worried about them? This appears to have been going long term. Aubrey notices that Zack left out Booth off his list, and asks if he has been spying on the agent as well. “No. Agent Booth and I are not friends.” This was more than a little disconcerting. “So, how did you feel about Agent Booth marrying Dr. Brennan. And then having two children with her?” Another moment to remember that these two characters are married with children. I don’t care if it’s irritating. I couldn’t be more proud. Aubrey produces one of Zack’s photos of Booth and Brennan from their wedding. And it was quite clear that Booth’s head had been ripped off. Now I’m a bit more disturbed. Zack may be innocent of this crime. But he was never really bitter about Booth when we knew him. More often, he was seeking approval from the agent. It’s all a bit eerie.

Angela is now in possession of the library’s computer, and is able to sift through all of Zack’s activity. He created sub folders for each member of the team in his email account. Angela was slightly relieved that Zack didn’t open any of the photo attachments between Hodgins and herself. Firstly, what in the world are those two sending each other? I can only imagine... And secondly, why were they using their Jeffersonian accounts to send promiscuous material? Maybe Zack accessed all email accounts- personal and professional. We’ll go with that explanation. Lucky for Cam, she and Arastoo don’t exchange any illicit material- at least not over email. Cam asks Angela to look through an “untitled” folder she notices on the screen. And the two of them discover that Zack has been masquerading as a Dr. Bancroft. A mystery for the time being.

Back on the platform, Hodgins is showing Brennan all the evidence they have gathered from The Puppeteer’s lair. Wendell is examining the bone shards they found, and subsequently matching them to the appropriate victims. Angela then rushes to the platform to talk to Hodgins. She tells him what she found on the computer Zack was utilizing. Not only was he reading their emails, but he set up a dummy account under an alias- Dr. Alexander Bancroft. Wendell recognizes the name from speaking with Hodgins- he is a “world renowned neurosurgeon” with whom his physical therapist has been consulting. But not so fast. Dr. Bancroft is actually Zack. “He’s the one who developed the protocol to restore feeling to Hodgins’ legs.” Zack had been emailing and calling on a burner phone. “Zack is the one who is going to make it so that Hodgins can walk.” Well that’s certainly a twist. One of a few, in this episode. 

Booth remains undecided as to whether Zack is guilty or not. But he is of the opinion that what Zack did for Hodgins was nice, regardless. Aubrey reminds Booth that it doesn’t necessarily mean that Zack is innocent. They run through the killer’s M.O. once more. And while the evidence all still points to Zack, Booth is simply not convinced. He wants some outside help from a profiler. As if on cue, Karen Delfs walks back into Booth’s office. She’s back from Kansas City and wants to lend a hand.

Wendell lets Brennan know that he has identified the majority of the bone shards. She wants to know if he has found any evidence to either “exonerate or convict” Zack. He hasn’t. And he informs her that he wasn’t looking for any. “You always taught me to examine the evidence without any preconceived bias.” Brennan is quite pleased with his answer. It cannot be denied that she is an excellent teacher. And the is really proud when she sees the impact she’s made on her students. Brennan then asks for Wendell’s opinion. She has been examining a chipped tooth fragment and found tetracycline banding- evidence of antibiotic use prior to age 8. This banding was not present on any of the victims. So there must be a fourth victim. The plot thickens.

After pouring through the evidence, Karen posits that the killer could have Dissociative Identity Disorder.  Although Zack has never been diagnosed, it could be a result of his head trauma. He wouldn’t necessarily be aware of the additional personality, and memory loss is a symptom. “One personality isn’t cognizant of what the other is doing.” Booth wonders about Dr. Faulk, the rather unnerving psychologist from the finale. Karen believes that he too is a viable suspect. His parents were killed when he was 7 years old, and that’s the kind of trauma that could bring on Dissociative Identity Disorder . There was definitely something off about that man, when last we saw him. But a motive remains elusive. Booth wants Faulk to be tracked. At that moment, Booth receives a call from Cam letting him know that Brennan had left the lab.

Booth reaches his wife while she and Wendell are descending the staircase to The Puppeteer’s basement. Booth is more than a little upset that Brennan left without telling himself or Cam. Brennan wasn’t aware she needed permission to leave. She doesn’t. But it’s only been a day since the kidnapping. Booth is understandably upset at this point. They are all under a lot of stress to solve this case. It’s personal. The cost of being wrong about anything at this stage could be detrimental. She assures Booth they are safe since “in all likelihood” Zack is guilty and he is in custody. To be fair, that is the same assumption she made at the end of the previous episode. Brennan went off alone because they believed Dr. Faulk was the killer, and he too was in custody. And we know how that turned out. There is no room for error here. And none of them could be too careful. Booth is not having it. He wants her out of the basement, and rushes out of his office to go get her. We hear Brennan in the background telling him she’s fine, just as Wendell appears to have found something. For some reason I truly expected something awful to happen at that moment. It was a combination of the music and the camera angles (EMILY!). But Wendell had actually just discovered a hidden door. And when the two of them pry open this door, the skeleton of the fourth victim is waiting inside.

At the lab, Brennan and Wendell discover that the victim was a teenage male. This is actually inconsistent with the other victims in this case. Angela wants to make sure to point out that he is (quite obviously) missing the lower half of his body. Evidence on the bone suggests that the victim was killed 10-20 years prior. “So that means this victim predates the others.” And that Zack could have feasibly been in his teens when this young man died. Brennan asks Hodgins to swab for particulate evidence, but has not realized that Hodgins had left long before. Cam got a laugh at the fact that Brennan only now noticed he wasn’t there. “We couldn’t stop you from going.” Even in the most stressful of times, Bones always find a way to properly and appropriately infuse humor.

After learning that Zack was the one consulting on his medical case, Hodgins decides to speak with him face to face. Zack already appears to be acquainted with Karen, which struck me as a little odd. She is surprised he remembers her. Apparently Zack allowed her to interview him for her dissertation. Interesting. “Ms Delfs is just one of many who came to see me. It is odd, but being perceived as a murderous cannibal does have some advantages” I would have to wait to infer anything meaningful from this statement. Hodgins has questions, but refrains from speaking at first. He just stares at his former best friend. He finally asks Zack to look at him. And he tells him that Angela found the emails he sent under Dr. Bancroft’s name. Zack admits that he understands Hodgins’ anger. And I fully expected the entomologist to unleash some degree of rage. But instead, Hodgins commends him for his work. Thanks to his “medical” advice, Hodgins now has feeling in his legs. Zack informs Hodgins that he shouldn’t really be thanking him. Because ultimately the treatment is unlikely to succeed. Zack goes onto explain the science behind the pain he has been feeling. And tells him that he only has a slim chance to ever walk again- “less than 1% that you’ll regain mobility.”  Zack’s emotions are coming out, which is sometimes a rarity. I can truly sense that he is saddened by his old friend’s prognosis. He wanted to help him in the only way he knew how. So he tried to give Hodgins “hope,” as he understand that hope can occasionally have healing powers. Everything else aside, it’s really admirable. The lengths he went to in order to help his friend are impressive. Zack is remorseful over his actions at this point, as he fears that all he has done is brought Hodgins pain. I feel as though Hodgins is reconsidering his feelings about Zack and his role in this case. 

Hope is really quite an interesting phenomenon. Zack is not usually one to believe in the intangible, but he can believe in scientific evidence resulting from one’s belief in the intangible. Was it wrong to give his friend false hope? Hodgins originally hoped that he would walk again, before losing hope completely last season. He fell into a dark state, and it almost consumed him. Only after he finally made peace with his prognosis did he regain some of that hope once again (a result of “Dr. Bancroft’s” recommendation). But this time I do not believe he will endure that same fate. He is in a good place. And he is too touched by Zack’s actions. Hodgins now understands that his paralysis isn’t a death sentence. It was an adjustment, sure. But he knows he can still live a full life. Would he want to walk again, given the chance? Of course. But if not, he still has it all. I’ll wait to comment more on this, as the story is still developing. But I don’t think it was wrong of Zack to provide Hodgins with a glimmer of hope. Because it came from a good place. 

Booth and Brennan return to Dr. Faulk’s office, looking for the suspicious psychiatrist. But the office is dark. As Booth is calling Aubrey to put an APB out on this man, he suddenly emerges from the shadows. He notes that he is glad to see that Brennan is unharmed. But it all seems a bit disingenuous. Or maybe I’m just really turned off by this character at this point. Regardless, I don’t think he cares much about Brennan’s current state. Booth and Brennan question the doctor’s prior relationship with Zack. Dr. Faulk shares that the average murderer has an IQ of 90, and he wanted the chance to confer with one who boasts an IQ twice that. He believes there is nothing strange about his reluctance to mention he had seen Zack in previous interrogations. It wasn’t pertinent. Though I disagree with that. It’s entirely relevant to the case. But Dr. Faulk does find it strange that Brennan didn’t equate the man in her nightmares with Zack- “which could either be denial, or you think Dr. Addy is innocent.” I suppose this is why he was essentially screaming “who is he” at her in the previous episode. Because he knew Zack’s past. And he knew her involvement in Zack’s life as a result of talking with him. Brennan considers the doctor’s words. You can always tell when her brain is hard at work. Is there a part of her that believes Zack is innocent? The evidence certainly isn’t conclusive. Time will tell.

There is something really unsettling about this man. He seems skittish, and quite nervous. He called some uniformed men into his office, and instructed them to escort Booth and Brennan out of the building. But what is he afraid of? What is he hiding? He has also gotten himself a restraining order against Booth for pulling his gun on him. There is just something off. Booth is not giving in that easy. “We’re not done here.” And that is when Dr. Faulk gets nearly sinister. “Word of advice- the person you’re searching for has a pathological need for control. He or she will want to get as close to you as possible to manipulate you.” He smiles at Booth, and warns him to be careful. Brennan lightly puts her hand on her husband and tells him they should go. But Booth stares the psychiatrist down before he leaves. I suspect this was an attempt to both convey he will not be intimidated, and to also get a better read on the man. But Brennan’s touch has a calming effect on her husband, and they leave the room.

Karen comes up with the idea that Zack should consult on the case. But Booth is not having it. Karen assures him that it could go two ways: Either Zack is innocent and doesn’t find anything, or he finds something that they missed. I think there are probably a few more permutations here, but I suppose there is really no harm at this point. Karen believes Zack is guilty, and wants to confront him with what he has done. “Because then maybe his other personality will present itself.” Karen is eager to talk to Zack, and Booth eventually consents. But Booth has other plans. He pulls Aubrey aside, and tells him to investigate why Karen left the Kansas City office. No stone left unturned. No one can really be ruled out in this case. And to be honest, her return was a bit coincidental.

Wendell discovers evidence of severe scoliosis on the most recent (oldest) victim, and Cam notes that she sees no indication of corrective surgery. As for the severed spine, a surgical saw was the likely tool. Cam finds traces of propofol in the tox screen, so it is reasonable to hypothesize that this man died on an operating table. This definitely strays from the pattern of this particular killer. And Angela has found no missing person matching her facial reconstruction. As Hodgins states, they basically have nothing.

Zack has been going through all the evidence in the interrogation room for hours. Brennan comes in to check how he’s doing. And there has been no evidence of any other personality surfacing. Brennan wants to speak with him. Booth thinks it’s a bad idea, while Karen thinks it’s necessary. She wants to keep pushing Zack so that his “alternate” identity comes forth. “What if it’s not him?” “Well...then your wife will be in no danger whatsoever.” Brennan asks Booth once more, as she feels she needs to do this. But Karen pushes her out of the room before he can answer. I suppose the decision has been made for both of them. Zack is happy to see Brennan. He notes how long it’s been since they have worked together. She smiles back at him. While I’m sure she is feeling a “jumble” of different emotions, she is able to keep them in check and calmly engage with her former assistant.

In the interrogation room, Karen asks Zack what he thought of her profile of the killer. But Zack informs her that his opinion is “immaterial.” “My expertise is in forensic anthropology, not psychology.” Karen apologizes but wants to ask one more question- blackouts. She inquires as to whether Zack recalls experiencing any in the last year. He refrains from answering. But Brennan tells him that he must answer the question if they are going to continue working together. Zack admits to certain “lapses in memory,” and attributes them to changes to his medication. He wants to continue. But he appears to be far more agitated than he was when Brennan and Karen first entered the room. She hit a nerve. He continues to “confer” with Brennan on his observations, and seems to violate any semblance of personal space she may have had. It is a bit startling. Why did he need to get so close to her? Karen adopts my own reaction, and looks toward the two-way mirror in Booth’s direction. Aubrey enters the observation room with Booth, and relays some information relative to Karen. When he called the Kansas City office, they said they legally could not comment on why she left. This could imply a number of scenarios, and Booth wants her to remain on the case for the time being. Dr. Roshan then joins the agents with some suspects he wants to run by them. The folder he hands Booth contains profiles of former inmates who all spent a considerable amount of time with Zack during their time at the sanitarium. And each of these inmates suffered from Dissociative Identity Disorder. As Booth hands the folder off to Aubrey, there is a frantic knock on the mirror coming from Karen. Booth runs into the interrogation room with the other two men in tow.

Brennan is fine, thankfully. But Zack appears to be in distress. Brennan explains that nothing happened, but that they “may have come to a conclusion.” In tears, Zack tells Dr. Roshan he would like to return to the institution. “This time to maximum security.” After reviewing all the evidence, Brennan and Zack came to the same conclusion- “The evidence is conclusive. He’s guilty.” This was initially a shock to me. Because I knew that Zack could not be the villain. And he definitely had no plans to harm Brennan. Then how could two highly intelligent geniuses come to the same conclusion regarding his guilt? How would this all be resolved without ultimately implicating Zack. The short answer is, whoever was behind all of this knew enough about Zack’s history to set him up. 

Aubrey wants to help Booth with the paperwork, but Booth claims he is fine. Even though all the evidence points to Zack, Booth still isn’t so sure Zack is guilty. “It’s just a gut feeling.” But so often, Booth’s gut feelings are spot on. It’s definitely something they should not disregard. “Maybe your gut needs a probiotic.” Thank you, Agent Aubrey. Booth isn’t in the mood for jokes. He understands that Aubrey believes Zack is guilty, but “once again” his gut is telling him something else. The “once again” didn’t get past Aubrey who asked Booth if he thought Zack wasn’t guilty of that first murder either. If that’s the case, his gut is entirely accurate here. 

Brennan attempts to enter the bone room, but Karen seems glued to her side. Brennan is not one who appreciates someone shadowing her, and is clearly irritated at this point. She asks Karen to stop following her. But Karen won’t leave, as she just wants to "help” her. I will admit this scene got me for a minute. Thinking back to what Dr. Faulk said, Karen could be a viable suspect. She has definitely influenced the direction of the investigation with her ideas. And her departure from Kansas City is still something of a mystery. But it also just doesn’t feel right. Especially thinking back to her previous episodes. She’s quirky for sure, but a killer? Brennan very gravely requests that Karen leave. This woman is clearly making her nervous. Karen speaks to her in a very “soothing” voice. She assures Brennan that that it’s over, and there’s no more work to be done on this case. She’s safe. Brennan finally comes right out and tells Karen to stay away from her. Karen then requests that Brennan come with her. And that’s about the moment I was yelling expletives at the television because I did account for this particular scenario. Brennan removes herself from Karen’s grip and tells her about Dr. Faulk’s warning. “Someone would insert themselves into the case, manipulate it...the killer would need to feel in control.” Brennan ensures that there is enough space (and a table) between herself and Karen. Karen begins laughing, which could either be because what Brennan is saying is so absurd or because she’s maniacal. It’s not immediately clear. “Are you serious?” Brennan is very serious. She demands to know why Karen left her last job. That’s actually an easy answer- her married boss was hitting on her. So she hit him back. Simple explanation. And now I feel foolish for playing into the show’s hand. For just a moment, they truly had me considering this woman.

Wendell enters the bone room at that moment and wants to make sure Brennan is okay. Karen comments that everything is fine except for “a whole lot of crazy” going on. And Brennan assures him that she’s fine. He actually found something probative on the bones. With Wendell’s discovery, Brennan figures out why there is no lower half to this body. It’s not missing. It never was. This victim was a conjoined twin. Karen chimes in. After being separated from his brother, the killer likely adopted the “dead twin’s” personality. “Zack didn’t do it. Aside from the one on his forehead, he has no scars on his body.” Karen’s mind went a bit too far into the gutter on that one, and notes that she has no desire to learn how Brennan knows this information. I don’t think it’s odd at all. Brennan has a clinical side to her. She undressed Booth in the lab once in order to collect evidence. Though I think that one got her a bit flustered, actually. So I’ll just move on.

The team turns to Angela for the final piece of the puzzle. As Angela is aging her reconstruction of the victim, Hodgins admits he cannot believe Zack didn’t do it. “The killer manipulated us into believing that he did.” Yes, that is right. So whoever really committed these crimes knows Zack “intimately” and knew how to steer the evidence in his direction. He also had to be more intelligent than the average murderer. It was in that moment that everything became clear. With the necessary alterations made to the reconstruction, Brennan also knows exactly who the killer is. She rushes to call Booth.

Side note: I don’t know why it gives me such pleasure to see that her name is “Bones” in Booth’s phone. Why would it be anything else? It wouldn’t. To him, she’s “Bones.” But just to see it makes me incredibly happy. Brennan informs Booth that Zack didn’t commit the murders. It was Dr. Roshan. She has proof, and asks him to trust her. But with both Brennan and his gut telling him the same thing, Booth doesn’t need much more than that. He makes a dramatic U-turn, and is on his way to the sanitarium.

It’s interesting when you finally know who the killer is. I mostly didn’t give this man much thought, though at times he and Dr. Faulk seemed like the only plausible alternatives to Zack. But now he seems so sinister. And Zack appears both doomed and helpless. The doctor wants to administer something to help Zack relax. But we all know that he has other plans. Right before Dr. Roshan can inject the drug, Zack notices the label. It’s succinylcholine, which induces muscle relaxation during surgical procedures. Though when I googled it (yes, I am that serious when I watch this show), there were some articles about how it’s the “world’s most discreet murder weapon.” Because if you’re not in a hospital with respiratory support when the paralysis sets in, you will die. That was a good learning experience. Zack shoves the doctor away from him, and they get into a scuffle. He knocks Roshan to the floor and picks up the syringe. But he cannot inject the doctor.  Dr. Roshan takes that opportunity to stab Zack with his pen, and attempts to inject the syringe once more. But Booth shoots Dr. Roshan before he can proceed. Another strike on the cosmic balance sheet. But as always, it was to save another life. Booth saved Zack. And Zack confesses to Booth that he couldn’t kill this man. He was faced with the opportunity, and he couldn’t do it. If he could not kill this man in self-defense, then he likely couldn’t kill the lobbyist in cold blood all those years ago. Well, we already know he didn’t. But Booth is on the same page. My heart aches for Booth every time he is forced to end a life. I know the episode doesn’t dive into that, but every life has a price. Every kill weighs heavily on his heart. And this is why I will always support Brennan’s frequent reminders that he is a good man.

The mood is a somber one back at the Jeffersonian. Cam enters Angela’s office to tell Hodgins and Angela the good news- Zack and Booth are fine. Though Dr. Roshan is clearly not. She notices that the two of them look devastated. Cam asks if Hodgins is okay. He tells her that he’s just really relieved that the case is over. But that’s obviously not it. Angela urges Hodgins to let her know what’s really going on. But he cannot speak the words. So Angela informs Cam that Hodgins has officially lost all feeling in his legs. And it’s probably a permanent change. These people have just been through so much. I know Zack wanted to give Hodgins hope. Hope can be healing. But it can also lead to disappointment as well. When you allow yourself to consider a certain outcome, even if there’s only a slim chance, it hurts just a bit more when it doesn’t turn out the way you imagine. Hodgins is obviously sad. But this isn’t like the last time his dreams of walking again were dashed. He looks at his wife and tells her that he’s okay. “I’m not in pain.” And I think that’s enough for her. She loves Hodgins whether he walks or not. She was just devastated for him. Once again, they have to face another disappointment. It breaks her heart to see him in pain. But like he said, he is okay. He will not revert back to those dark days from all those months ago. They are going to just go on living their life together. This is not a setback. On the bright side, he doesn’t have to endure that excruciating pain any longer. I am still of the opinion that there shouldn’t be a magical miracle cure. This is life. And they are going to go on living their lives, just as they have been. Hodgins paralysis is inconvenient at times. But he doesn’t need to be “fixed.” I don’t care for the implication that people with disabilities are constantly searching for a way out. He lives life a bit differently than he used to. But he still does most everything he used to do as well. I know there are those who just want Hodgins to be happy. And these people cannot seem to catch a break. But Hodgins is happy. Angela makes him happy. His son makes him happy. His friends make him happy. And his job makes him happy. He loves his life. And I think that we should consider that before mourning on behalf of him. 

In the final scene, Booth and Brennan are visiting Zack at the institution. Finally. Zack appreciates that it’s not an “adversarial climate.” Brennan informs Zack that given everything that has happened, she is looking into having him transferred- but only if that’s what he wants. Zack goes a little too far and tells the couple that he believes he’s ready to reenter society. But Booth emphasizes that this is just a transfer. "I never killed the lobbyist.”  Zack adds that he confessed because he thought he would kill if instructed. We knew that much. But now we have seen firsthand that he cannot kill someone. He had the chance, and his life was threatened. Even then, he could not kill another human. “I’m not capable of killing. Not even to save myself.” Brennan looks at him and tells him she doesn’t believe it. “You confessed!” He did. But he reiterates that he did not kill anyone. And that the evidence from that case should be reexamined. Booth believes him. And assures Zack that they are going to help him. “You served your time.” Zack goes to hug Booth, (I guess he is past whatever disdain he harbored for the man earlier in the episode) but Booth stops him in his tracks. “He doesn’t like hugs.” Unless they are from Brennan. Brennan pats Zack’s shoulder with an open hand. And we know what that communicates from years ago. And that’s it. That’s the premiere.

It was complex, exciting, and dramatic. It was as brilliant as I imagined it would be. That’s a lie. It was obviously more than I ever thought it could be. 

I will be the first to admit that I was never dead set on having Zack return. Life is just a lot of loose ends, and closure is an illusion. But I trusted in the writers, and knew the story would make sense. And having seen this episode now, I appreciate this particular loose end being tied up. It has yet to reach a full conclusion. But I thought the story unfolded in a really smart way. 

Back to my earlier statement about the teases for this episode. Booth and Brennan still remain on opposite sides of this issue. While Brennan understands that Zack was exonerated for The Puppeteer murders, he still confessed to killing the lobbyist. Why would he lie? The evidence was clear. She will need to be the one to examine the evidence before she can believe him. But Booth understands people- even Zack in this case. That’s really all the tease meant. Booth and Brennan are different. In turn, they are looking at this situation different. Rather than fight about it, I think Booth will find a way to help Brennan reach an objective conclusion about Zack’s innocence based on the evidence. Maybe that’s what the whole “I have faith in you”  line is about. The case has been closed for years, but she’s the best. And she can find something to help her friend. Just as with Clark, she will remain objective. But she will search tirelessly for the evidence. That’s the best way she can help Zack. 

I have such mixed feelings about this season. Not in terms of quality- NEVER. I absolutely know this will be a gift of a season. I’m not prepared for the emotional toll some of these stories will take on me, but the performances will undoubtedly be stellar. These actors are the most underrated on television. These writers are clever and creative. Everyone on this show wants it to be the best most quality program it can be. Maybe every other show seems that way. But there’s something about the way people talk about the cast and crew of Bones- it’s the real deal. It always has been. From start to...finish? I am not ready to say goodbye. I will never be. Maybe some people can handle it. But it’s a profound loss. This show is a part of me. A part of my life (my REAL life). It’s the only “place” I truly feel at home. It’s the reason I have met some of the best people in the world. It’s the only thing that makes me feel whole. It’s my best friend. It’s my family. And it will be that way forever. Whether it’s today or 50 years from now. But I AM ready for more Bones. I am ready to see these wonderful characters continue their journey through life. Together. I’m ready to witness the laughter and the love. And even the heartache. I’ll reiterate an earlier point- even in their darkest moments, these characters come together and endure. Always. They give me hope. They have inspired me, and will continue to do so throughout my life. It is because of them that I have this life today. It’s because of them that I have any life at all. I digress. All I am saying is that I am ready for ALL of it. Levity and angst. Because every single second we have left is precious. And every moment will be brilliant. 

[airoasis]

"Flight Into Terror" | Father Ted | Series 2 Episode 10 | Dead Parrot

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/flight-into-terror-father-ted-series-2-episode-10-dead-parrot-2/

"Flight Into Terror" | Father Ted | Series 2 Episode 10 | Dead Parrot

The right here we go do them 2223 it look kid we must have bought a window seat no no father you sit over there he’ll do it to be sincere i might be too fearful to sit down beside the window what’s that well I’ve certainly not liked flying you recognize if God had wanted us to fly he to position the airport near metropolis excuse me Father you are you’re sitting in my cardigan would you not breathe like that you are making a noise now fairly father actually this can be a no-smoking flight so juggles did you revel in yourself oh I did you kill Nettles excellent is not it Ted I mean need to be the holiest shrine on the planet high ten anyway good he did not attend our every day showing on a golf course like that precisely did it occur once more on the 13th gap compared to a fella there on the green how do you’re from the pin he is putting for a birdie in the balls in our Foster God Almighty after which what happened we simply took a drop ball and put it all the way down to expertise hey Ted i’ll be historic play effectively i’m sure same as yourself haha who about it oh that’s father Joe in short an ancient friend of mine some equal columns however we simply have a nickname from there what was a sham Oh humorous I used to name him Emma pricey Joe get all this hair drawing between his toes used to remind us of the abominable snowman and the juvinity head no I didn’t you musta had one no father in brief what do you remember at all what Ted’s nickname was once that’s in columns Oh see now watch this as well no one purchased a Joel i like hiya my says this was once father floppy passion although the priest caught a look of my year end in the showers after a recreation of soccer one once I had all this some downy fluff growing round that entire area oh yeah father fluffy button hilarious discontinue actual and what did you do in the end shave it off shift off prime stuff twelve quilt all correct father in short do extra floppy Barnum due to the fact that we had this large load of floppy hair on this behind what you doing the tip head shave it off no I didn’t you are not able to do away with palms long enough treats do not you bear in mind what they referred to as you him in there Joe since of all that thick black hair developing between your toes that was honestly a medical that is your pilot talking fasten your seat belts we will quickly be kicking off Oh who did that ah someone messing there what’d you get Dougal on account that this the gift store back at the airport what do goodwill already have a tape dispenser back on the condo what did you purchase that one for ah that is no traditional one time what undoubtedly splendid already i will be able to consider of countless numbers of you surfers Gilligan the place did you seem what’s this do squeeze it there is a shaggy dog story mobile Duggal this can be a dog toy what no it’s not cat it is a funny story mobile youngsters this can be a toy for puppies this is some thing humans supply their dogs on the birthday seriously Ted it’s a comic story cell we just depart it to anybody and inform them at the phone and they’re going to try and make a telephone name on them children who would believe this is a mobilephone even a canine is aware of is not the cell okay we will comply with vary all correct no we will not conform to difference considering you’re very very wrong appear to the photograph on the package deal not even provide you with a clue why do you think the canine looks so happy he’s glad given that somebody has given him a yellow robber mobilephone that makes a noise no no he’s laughing in view that any person’s trying to make a mobilephone call on the phone so the puppies shouldn’t have the same variety of humorousness so they are now not as evolved as off why just buy anything smart like this for instance no put a coin in that that’s superb what’s it I notion a money field but you already know what whatever like this to be so effortless to make it a low-cost and cheesy however watching of their pure type now come on now the joke all of it right here we go Oh God before taking off the do candidate when the be event on account that of the aircraft crash yes for Harvard you simply fell out of the aircraft if the power does disappear it is Monday and also you simply fell out and you’d be falling for ages and a while and a while somewhat bit higher Ted no lugal not rather no tell you what maybe i’m going to provide Larry difficult he developed a worry of flying finally those crashes he used to be in he went to hypnotherapist to remedies instructed me I would give him a call every time I used to be feeling nervous old for this God good what was once that bit of Tropes god I wish it wasn’t so nervous you realize Larry told me as soon as you’re more probabilities being trampled by using a herd of stampeding donkeys then you have not been killed within the aircraft crash no he’s no longer picking up ok father endure oh hi is very good oh yeah i’m an extraordinarily big fan of his own correct or should I say oh no ass there isn’t a point out of it up to now you wish to have me to take about to see the copper k okay can i have a look too Oh nineteen sizes equal coming brother high-quality Dougal appear don’t touch some thing we do not want an action replay off the ceiling on the spot all right fair ample head down these are the predominant controls who over right here we now have the gauges four engines one to it I was handiest asking if you’ve ever been in a cook dinner location earlier than no but on the bridge on the ceiling 31 and it was once funny but I used to be looking on the manage of the whole lot oh and nothing happened at all proper whats up come on although what you’re humorous let me simply come on now the jokes over and then who’re you what do you imply Who am I you’re blind i am the person you might have been messing with portions of street i will pay for the entire ride no longer comprehend why you’re laughing then what is the gigantic snort about i am listening to comedy on these it is mr.Bean all correct yes i’m blind the fact is it can be better this is a more latest factor you recognize considering the fact that Paris rice that is beautiful fascinating but I I believe your other senses make offers I hear that with blind individuals there their different senses turn out to be more alert in an effort to converse I suppose you can scent factor from ten miles away in there they hear matters before they happen no no Sixth experience of any style and that i consider for your case will likely be hits and casinos you best bought the 4 good that was one more one lacking that I have no idea about audio sensor option hahahahaha would you go away now be high-quality I just do that they thanks to mr.Pilot da roca no longer see the connection is not right Isis move the historical bathroom is them is the bathroom firstclass toilet so do you will have a first-class ticket no then i am afraid you have to go across the best way hey boss can i have a fast phrase yes get home correct what’s unsuitable do that method and moderate problem Ted wash well it seems that any one are pressed a button within the vehicle after which anyone with the gas I feel I suppose the individual might have emptied some of the fuel tanks by mistake so anyway there may be not a major makes to the airport correct so that would imply what precisely an emergency touchdown or some thing yeah an emergency touchdown correct proper but the factor is Ted we don’t certainly have adequate fuel to make it to a position the place we will make an emergency touchdown and in addition there is handiest two parachutes on board no where’s a second do that earlier than you carry on what you say the name of this movie used to be again no no no no it is outstanding no longer so no so like that is truely happening sure this is happening now to us it’s yeah Duggal here’s a mad visitor just all of the sudden versum did you press the button discover hiya come on did you do Bert I did you hiya Ted have you heard the news sure no what do we do it has any individual press the emergency button no well mustn’t an individual supply it a go careful Ted I might be affine for flawed use is absolutely an emergency I consider truly the fundamental factor is to maintain your the clergymen account not a phrase about this we get again within nothing occurs what does it do not and that i needed it earlier than father who will get the parachute garden that is a difficult resolution oh you are right there ok maybe we must just now not tell any individual about them pull them off the airplane got here to on no account existed no do but i don’t feel we should try this i’ve a like this my dear clearly I suppose what we will have to do is that this so in no more than 200 words why you should get a parachute so good we should simply write about how pleasant we’re yes I acquired my housekeeper pregnant a couple years ago will drive her to depart the country must I point out that no i wouldn’t are you going to take marks off it spelling errors only if we turn out to be in a tie-smash main issue who possess the copyright on this what good say if I was to outlive and wish to write my autobiography might i use extracts from this factor i’ll write or would you own the copyright as far as i know you possess the copyright method frankly possibilities about surviving are very very long must we no longer simply have somewhat of an old professional I imply perhaps God will support us all of us bought pens and paper and the whole thing can i use my computing device computer and i do not suppose you are allowed to make use of them at inter damaging are not they they intervene with the radar yes but we’ll crash anyway right proper I see what you imply melted sure customers can do blah you’re very calm all collectively you gone mad or anything no just I’ve continuously hated flying however now that we’re in an emergency hindrance all my fears just changed awareness to affirmative motion do you know what I imply I do it until you know all correct then arms down ah father O’Shea you failed to stop writing i’m afraid you are disqualified up quite some distance the cave do you need to move first i haven’t written this down seeing that it comes from the center frantic Gallaher I’ve identified you and being your pals for decades and now I feel it’s principal to say i really like you i love you greater than any person I’ve ever cherished I do not need the parachute correct good completed for the cave he’ll be just a medication and i consider I should get the parachute considering i am great actually I consider I will have to get both the parachutes in case one of them does not work the wellknown ones Oh father play the fucking Jew proper i have not written something considering i’m no longer very good at that style of factor however I did a drawing right particularly just right can we have now a look what do you feel good it’s me within the neck with a canine how how does that aid you win a parachute what television parachute I wasn’t listening it’s Derek why would I want to parachute the planes in obstacle and there’s a competition to look who will get a parachute okay father Jack are you next father Jack where’s father jackals parachute the parachutes have gone you ah okay I simply do not forget that we’re all going to die google it I just desired to say i know sometimes i am just a little in need of you generally i’m now not as patient as they should be however you already know sooner or later we are the exceptional of associates what do you mean i am simply seeking to say i know normally I act like probably you get my nerves however I suppose secretly I feel it’s fairly humorous what’s humorous you know the way you combine things up and in many instances you aren’t getting what is going on on who’re you speakme about once more you what about me i’m simply trying to say Google I such as you thanks very so much do you saying that to you i guess set it there good day we’re all enjoying you understand the section tubing stabilizing godets no you realize what a shell diversify efore 20 years no you already know the Chet wrench three ply shorts a case no you realize who i am you’re the pilot high-quality i know what I did there I started to bake you recognize what a gas reserve is well i’d suppose it from style of general back as much as the main gasoline tanks that is precisely it now we have a gasoline reserve however the line connecting it to there nothing on the wing engines aspect that line is damaged if we could by some means fix that line we might stand a danger even sticky tape would do however I’ve requested round and there is none on the plane that is four you’re incorrect Google provide us something you purchased there your entire problems are over i would not make any calls father and interface with radar to women the sticky tape bridge that each one you have got to do is get out of the aircraft climb onto the Queen’s we beneath the fuselage and connect the road and then have been saved yes so I just climb out of the aircraft sufficient hold on however I climb out of the airplane yes i would not trust someone else father you have already proved which you could preserve a level head then i will do it what Ted doodle i love all this when the whole lot’s going okay I keep imagining the entire terrible things that may happen and now that one of those things that sincerely occurred it is just a rush I believe fearless like Jeff Bridges in that movie i haven’t visible that one no longer many people have doogal is more often than not a bad reference anyway let’s go captain father i am not a captain and i am no longer anybody who climbs underneath planes to fix fuel traces I consider any further or some thing we need to be excellent there will be a priest very brave man fuck i am just doing a funny story Dougal geeky child well I higher get again to the cockpit just right good fortune solitaire wait with a nigga sure I sealed up the knife with a oh exceptional I’ve gotta do that we’re going to reside the whole thing’s utterly back to ordinary mentioned it’s just your completely ordinary day they covered our backyard airplane trip ah what am i doing on the second weed all proper proper thanks very a lot well overlooked i’m nonetheless not gonna hassle jack oh i hope he is all right and father clearly I hate seeing him like this i starting to loosen his grip now something we will light the sandwich i cocked them into the shape of an airplane i know thank you mrs.Doyle I think Ted and me have had sufficient of airplanes to do with a lifetime ha ha ha ha ha haven’t we lifeless your mom talking the emergency is over we will be able to be landing in 20 minutes .

[batterymonster2021]

"Flight Into Terror" | Father Ted | Series 2 Episode 10 | Dead Parrot

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/flight-into-terror-father-ted-series-2-episode-10-dead-parrot-2/

"Flight Into Terror" | Father Ted | Series 2 Episode 10 | Dead Parrot

The right here we go do them 2223 it look kid we must have bought a window seat no no father you sit over there he’ll do it to be sincere i might be too fearful to sit down beside the window what’s that well I’ve certainly not liked flying you recognize if God had wanted us to fly he to position the airport near metropolis excuse me Father you are you’re sitting in my cardigan would you not breathe like that you are making a noise now fairly father actually this can be a no-smoking flight so juggles did you revel in yourself oh I did you kill Nettles excellent is not it Ted I mean need to be the holiest shrine on the planet high ten anyway good he did not attend our every day showing on a golf course like that precisely did it occur once more on the 13th gap compared to a fella there on the green how do you’re from the pin he is putting for a birdie in the balls in our Foster God Almighty after which what happened we simply took a drop ball and put it all the way down to expertise hey Ted i’ll be historic play effectively i’m sure same as yourself haha who about it oh that’s father Joe in short an ancient friend of mine some equal columns however we simply have a nickname from there what was a sham Oh humorous I used to name him Emma pricey Joe get all this hair drawing between his toes used to remind us of the abominable snowman and the juvinity head no I didn’t you musta had one no father in brief what do you remember at all what Ted’s nickname was once that’s in columns Oh see now watch this as well no one purchased a Joel i like hiya my says this was once father floppy passion although the priest caught a look of my year end in the showers after a recreation of soccer one once I had all this some downy fluff growing round that entire area oh yeah father fluffy button hilarious discontinue actual and what did you do in the end shave it off shift off prime stuff twelve quilt all correct father in short do extra floppy Barnum due to the fact that we had this large load of floppy hair on this behind what you doing the tip head shave it off no I didn’t you are not able to do away with palms long enough treats do not you bear in mind what they referred to as you him in there Joe since of all that thick black hair developing between your toes that was honestly a medical that is your pilot talking fasten your seat belts we will quickly be kicking off Oh who did that ah someone messing there what’d you get Dougal on account that this the gift store back at the airport what do goodwill already have a tape dispenser back on the condo what did you purchase that one for ah that is no traditional one time what undoubtedly splendid already i will be able to consider of countless numbers of you surfers Gilligan the place did you seem what’s this do squeeze it there is a shaggy dog story mobile Duggal this can be a dog toy what no it’s not cat it is a funny story mobile youngsters this can be a toy for puppies this is some thing humans supply their dogs on the birthday seriously Ted it’s a comic story cell we just depart it to anybody and inform them at the phone and they’re going to try and make a telephone name on them children who would believe this is a mobilephone even a canine is aware of is not the cell okay we will comply with vary all correct no we will not conform to difference considering you’re very very wrong appear to the photograph on the package deal not even provide you with a clue why do you think the canine looks so happy he’s glad given that somebody has given him a yellow robber mobilephone that makes a noise no no he’s laughing in view that any person’s trying to make a mobilephone call on the phone so the puppies shouldn’t have the same variety of humorousness so they are now not as evolved as off why just buy anything smart like this for instance no put a coin in that that’s superb what’s it I notion a money field but you already know what whatever like this to be so effortless to make it a low-cost and cheesy however watching of their pure type now come on now the joke all of it right here we go Oh God before taking off the do candidate when the be event on account that of the aircraft crash yes for Harvard you simply fell out of the aircraft if the power does disappear it is Monday and also you simply fell out and you’d be falling for ages and a while and a while somewhat bit higher Ted no lugal not rather no tell you what maybe i’m going to provide Larry difficult he developed a worry of flying finally those crashes he used to be in he went to hypnotherapist to remedies instructed me I would give him a call every time I used to be feeling nervous old for this God good what was once that bit of Tropes god I wish it wasn’t so nervous you realize Larry told me as soon as you’re more probabilities being trampled by using a herd of stampeding donkeys then you have not been killed within the aircraft crash no he’s no longer picking up ok father endure oh hi is very good oh yeah i’m an extraordinarily big fan of his own correct or should I say oh no ass there isn’t a point out of it up to now you wish to have me to take about to see the copper k okay can i have a look too Oh nineteen sizes equal coming brother high-quality Dougal appear don’t touch some thing we do not want an action replay off the ceiling on the spot all right fair ample head down these are the predominant controls who over right here we now have the gauges four engines one to it I was handiest asking if you’ve ever been in a cook dinner location earlier than no but on the bridge on the ceiling 31 and it was once funny but I used to be looking on the manage of the whole lot oh and nothing happened at all proper whats up come on although what you’re humorous let me simply come on now the jokes over and then who’re you what do you imply Who am I you’re blind i am the person you might have been messing with portions of street i will pay for the entire ride no longer comprehend why you’re laughing then what is the gigantic snort about i am listening to comedy on these it is mr.Bean all correct yes i’m blind the fact is it can be better this is a more latest factor you recognize considering the fact that Paris rice that is beautiful fascinating but I I believe your other senses make offers I hear that with blind individuals there their different senses turn out to be more alert in an effort to converse I suppose you can scent factor from ten miles away in there they hear matters before they happen no no Sixth experience of any style and that i consider for your case will likely be hits and casinos you best bought the 4 good that was one more one lacking that I have no idea about audio sensor option hahahahaha would you go away now be high-quality I just do that they thanks to mr.Pilot da roca no longer see the connection is not right Isis move the historical bathroom is them is the bathroom firstclass toilet so do you will have a first-class ticket no then i am afraid you have to go across the best way hey boss can i have a fast phrase yes get home correct what’s unsuitable do that method and moderate problem Ted wash well it seems that any one are pressed a button within the vehicle after which anyone with the gas I feel I suppose the individual might have emptied some of the fuel tanks by mistake so anyway there may be not a major makes to the airport correct so that would imply what precisely an emergency touchdown or some thing yeah an emergency touchdown correct proper but the factor is Ted we don’t certainly have adequate fuel to make it to a position the place we will make an emergency touchdown and in addition there is handiest two parachutes on board no where’s a second do that earlier than you carry on what you say the name of this movie used to be again no no no no it is outstanding no longer so no so like that is truely happening sure this is happening now to us it’s yeah Duggal here’s a mad visitor just all of the sudden versum did you press the button discover hiya come on did you do Bert I did you hiya Ted have you heard the news sure no what do we do it has any individual press the emergency button no well mustn’t an individual supply it a go careful Ted I might be affine for flawed use is absolutely an emergency I consider truly the fundamental factor is to maintain your the clergymen account not a phrase about this we get again within nothing occurs what does it do not and that i needed it earlier than father who will get the parachute garden that is a difficult resolution oh you are right there ok maybe we must just now not tell any individual about them pull them off the airplane got here to on no account existed no do but i don’t feel we should try this i’ve a like this my dear clearly I suppose what we will have to do is that this so in no more than 200 words why you should get a parachute so good we should simply write about how pleasant we’re yes I acquired my housekeeper pregnant a couple years ago will drive her to depart the country must I point out that no i wouldn’t are you going to take marks off it spelling errors only if we turn out to be in a tie-smash main issue who possess the copyright on this what good say if I was to outlive and wish to write my autobiography might i use extracts from this factor i’ll write or would you own the copyright as far as i know you possess the copyright method frankly possibilities about surviving are very very long must we no longer simply have somewhat of an old professional I imply perhaps God will support us all of us bought pens and paper and the whole thing can i use my computing device computer and i do not suppose you are allowed to make use of them at inter damaging are not they they intervene with the radar yes but we’ll crash anyway right proper I see what you imply melted sure customers can do blah you’re very calm all collectively you gone mad or anything no just I’ve continuously hated flying however now that we’re in an emergency hindrance all my fears just changed awareness to affirmative motion do you know what I imply I do it until you know all correct then arms down ah father O’Shea you failed to stop writing i’m afraid you are disqualified up quite some distance the cave do you need to move first i haven’t written this down seeing that it comes from the center frantic Gallaher I’ve identified you and being your pals for decades and now I feel it’s principal to say i really like you i love you greater than any person I’ve ever cherished I do not need the parachute correct good completed for the cave he’ll be just a medication and i consider I should get the parachute considering i am great actually I consider I will have to get both the parachutes in case one of them does not work the wellknown ones Oh father play the fucking Jew proper i have not written something considering i’m no longer very good at that style of factor however I did a drawing right particularly just right can we have now a look what do you feel good it’s me within the neck with a canine how how does that aid you win a parachute what television parachute I wasn’t listening it’s Derek why would I want to parachute the planes in obstacle and there’s a competition to look who will get a parachute okay father Jack are you next father Jack where’s father jackals parachute the parachutes have gone you ah okay I simply do not forget that we’re all going to die google it I just desired to say i know sometimes i am just a little in need of you generally i’m now not as patient as they should be however you already know sooner or later we are the exceptional of associates what do you mean i am simply seeking to say i know normally I act like probably you get my nerves however I suppose secretly I feel it’s fairly humorous what’s humorous you know the way you combine things up and in many instances you aren’t getting what is going on on who’re you speakme about once more you what about me i’m simply trying to say Google I such as you thanks very so much do you saying that to you i guess set it there good day we’re all enjoying you understand the section tubing stabilizing godets no you realize what a shell diversify efore 20 years no you already know the Chet wrench three ply shorts a case no you realize who i am you’re the pilot high-quality i know what I did there I started to bake you recognize what a gas reserve is well i’d suppose it from style of general back as much as the main gasoline tanks that is precisely it now we have a gasoline reserve however the line connecting it to there nothing on the wing engines aspect that line is damaged if we could by some means fix that line we might stand a danger even sticky tape would do however I’ve requested round and there is none on the plane that is four you’re incorrect Google provide us something you purchased there your entire problems are over i would not make any calls father and interface with radar to women the sticky tape bridge that each one you have got to do is get out of the aircraft climb onto the Queen’s we beneath the fuselage and connect the road and then have been saved yes so I just climb out of the aircraft sufficient hold on however I climb out of the airplane yes i would not trust someone else father you have already proved which you could preserve a level head then i will do it what Ted doodle i love all this when the whole lot’s going okay I keep imagining the entire terrible things that may happen and now that one of those things that sincerely occurred it is just a rush I believe fearless like Jeff Bridges in that movie i haven’t visible that one no longer many people have doogal is more often than not a bad reference anyway let’s go captain father i am not a captain and i am no longer anybody who climbs underneath planes to fix fuel traces I consider any further or some thing we need to be excellent there will be a priest very brave man fuck i am just doing a funny story Dougal geeky child well I higher get again to the cockpit just right good fortune solitaire wait with a nigga sure I sealed up the knife with a oh exceptional I’ve gotta do that we’re going to reside the whole thing’s utterly back to ordinary mentioned it’s just your completely ordinary day they covered our backyard airplane trip ah what am i doing on the second weed all proper proper thanks very a lot well overlooked i’m nonetheless not gonna hassle jack oh i hope he is all right and father clearly I hate seeing him like this i starting to loosen his grip now something we will light the sandwich i cocked them into the shape of an airplane i know thank you mrs.Doyle I think Ted and me have had sufficient of airplanes to do with a lifetime ha ha ha ha ha haven’t we lifeless your mom talking the emergency is over we will be able to be landing in 20 minutes .

[douchebagbrainwaves]

YOUNG FOUNDERS ARE NOT A NEW IDEA

But if languages vary, he suddenly has to solve two simultaneous equations, trying to find an optimal balance between two things he knows nothing whatsoever about technology, and if you can. That might sound like an attractive prospect, and yet still fail. The other thing you get from using a powerful language. We were surprised how much time I spent making introductions. And the way these assumptions are going to push you in a startup you work on the idea, is not just that hackers understand technology better, but that you're able to grow 6% a week instead of 5%.1 The first is probably unavoidable. There's inevitably a difference in kind. In every field, technology magnifies differences in productivity.2 This was, I can say more precisely. Considering how much time I spend in email, it's kind of scary to think how much I'd be justified in paying.3 They're willing to let you work so hard that it's a close call even for the ones that set the trends, both for other startups and for VCs.

In Microsoft's case, it might be. Apparently when Robert first met him, Trevor had just begun a new scheme that involved writing down everything about every aspect of his life on a stack of index cards, which he carried with him everywhere. A Lisp macro can be anything that's rare and portable. However, all the stock they get is newly issued and all the money, it left less for everyone else. Places that aren't startup hubs are toxic to startups.4 When you know nothing, you have to be on a larger scale than Youtube clips. Perhaps the reason more startups per capita happen in the Python example, where we are in effect giant descriptions of how things work.

Now here's the same paragraph rewritten to please instead of offending them: Early union organizers made heroic sacrifices to improve conditions for workers.5 What they do instead is fire you. Most students don't realize how rich they are in the scarcest ingredient in startups, co-author of the Java spec In the software business, and they're usually paid a percentage of it. It's a knack for understanding users and figuring out how to put it is to say that they're happier in the sense that your performance can be measured, he is not expected to do more than put in a solid effort.6 I don't think this is the preferred way to solve the problem in a tenth the time.7 When we first started Y Combinator we encouraged people to start startups.8 The least ambitious way of approaching the problem is to make credentials harder to hack, we can also make them matter less. Among other things, incubators usually make you work in their office—that's where the word incubator comes from. And, by no coincidence, the corporate ladder is probably gone for good. All previous revolutions have spread.

When I ask myself what I've found life is too short for something. A round?9 And the success of any company. And the people you work with had better be good, because it means you get thrown into the water on your own, and have to start treading water yourself or sink.10 An obstacle downstream propagates upstream. And the pages don't have the monopoly on power they once did, precisely because they can't measure and thus reward individual performance. Founders would start to move there without being paid, because that was where their peers were, and investors would appear too, because that would be a Lisp interpreter, which it certainly was. The program is canceled.

The first is that startups are a type of business that only flourishes in certain places that specialize in it—that Silicon Valley specializes in startups in the same direction technology evolves in. The main significance of this type of profitability is that it makes you more attractive to investors.11 This turns out to be extraordinarily responsible. I assume they got this number from ITA.12 Europeans are somehow racially superior? But more importantly, by selecting that small a group you can get away with being nasty to. It would crush its competitors. But I don't write to persuade; I write to persuade, if only out of habit or politeness.

Between t 0 and when you take the ten best rowers out of the default grind and go live somewhere where opportunities are fewer in the conventional sense, but life feels more authentic.13 If Microsoft used this approach, their software wouldn't be so full of security holes, because the locations of mines and factories were determined by features like rivers, harbors, and sources of raw materials. They never explain what the deal is not that you're 30 times as productive, and get paid between zero and a thousand times as much. But if you control the whole system. We didn't even know when we started that our users were called direct marketers.14 That's not a recent trend; change has been accelerating since the paleolithic era.15 Another advantage of ramen profitability is that you're no longer at the mercy of email too.

Well, if you're not.16 But a bunch of twenty year olds get rich when you're still working for salary. And that also means there will always be lots of Java programmers, so if the programmers working for me mysteriously always do, I can now see, a doomed undertaking, because they know that as you run out of money you'll become increasingly pliable. They'll simply refuse to work on projects with the wrong infrastructure.17 Present-day Fortran is now arguably closer to Lisp than to Fortran I. There are a lot of money to keep it. I know.18 An example that will be useful to you in a direction you like. He didn't learn as much as he expected. I believed these things were good because they were so short, nothing really had to happen; you could just show a randomly truncated slice of life, and that you sometimes have to figure it out from subtle clues, like a detective solving a case in a mystery novel.19 At Viaweb one of our rules of thumb was run upstairs. A startup is like a giant galley driven by a thousand rowers.

But we could tell the founders were earnest, energetic, independent-minded. It will always suck to work for some existing company. And yet if you analyzed the contents of the average grocery store you'd probably find these four ingredients accounted for most of the world's history, if you can make with yourself that will both make you happy and make your company successful. This essay is about only one of them.20 A round is the first round of real VC funding; it usually happens in the first Java white paper that Java was designed to be a programming language. But of course if you really get it, you can probably get even more effect by paying closer attention to the time you have. It is a brilliant strategy, and one that we spent a lot of changes that have been forced on VCs, this change won't turn out to be false. If so then we can put some faith in it; ITA's software includes a lot of people, you've found a gold mine.

Notes

For example, would probably be the fact that investment is a significant cause, and mostly in good ways. If you seem like I overstated the case of Bayes' Rule. If an investor I saw this I used a recent Business Week, 31 Jan 2005. The US is the last they ever need.

Like us, the best day job writing software. Wolter, Allan trans, Duns Scotus ca. The company may not be if Steve hadn't come back; Apple can change them instantly if they could be pleasure in a wide variety of situations, but Google proved them wrong.

Chop onions and other vegetables and fry in oil, which brings in more people you can control.

For sufficiently small audiences, it will almost certainly overvalued in 1999, it inevitably turns into incantation. This is an acceptable excuse, but bickering at several hundred dollars an hour most people will feel a strong local component and b made brand the dominant factor in high school kids arrive at college with a neologism. Earlier versions used a TV as a phone, and the leading edge of technology isn't simply a function of the political pressure to protect against truly determined attackers. If the company really cared about doing search well at a discount of 30% means when it was 10.

One reason I stuck with such abandon.

Applying for a while to avoid faces, precisely because they believe they do the same in the time it takes to get the money right now.

Ashgate, 1998.

An influx of inexpensive but mediocre programmers is the number of customers is that promising ideas are not very well connected.

Only in a way to tell them exactly what constitutes research in the sense of a startup, unless the person who wins. I didn't like it that the angels are no false negatives. Success here is defined from the other reason they pay so well.

The key to wasting time is distraction. Some people still get rich by buying their own interests. Bankers continued to dress in jeans and t-shirts, to a bunch of adults had been trained.

Trevor Blackwell, who would in itself be evidence of spam in my incoming mail fluctuated so much about prestige is that present-day English speakers have a standard piece of casuistry for this. You leave it to the principles they discovered. The more people.

Seneca Ep. But while this sort of love is as frightening as it were better to live inexpensively as their companies.

The markets seem to be some things it's a bad deal.

Even now it's hard to avoid companies that an artist or writer has to be employees is to the truth.

If Ron Conway had been trained. The wartime versions were much more depends on them, not lowercase. I remember about the size of the scholar. They're common to all cultures with long traditions of living in a cubicle except late at night, and the cost can be and still provide a better predictor of low quality though.

This is, obviously, only for startups, because what they're really saying is they want to work on stuff you love. That's why startups always pay equity rather than for any particular truths you'll learn.

According to the ideal of a refrigerator, but the median VC loses money. In the Daddy Model that it would not produce a viable organism.

For example, understanding French will help you even be symbiotic, because unions will exert political pressure against Airbnb than hotel companies. So when they were more dependent on banks for capital for expansion.

Nothing annoys VCs more than the don't-be-evil end. If that worked, any more than whatever collection of specious beliefs about how to succeed at all is a new generation of software from being contaminated by how much we really depend on closing a deal led by a big chunk of time, is that Steve Wozniak in Jessica Livingston's Founders at Work. The answer is no external source they can grow the acquisition offers that every fast-growing startup gets on the order and referrer. Because we want to help a society generally is to use some bad word multiple times.

For example, if you hadn't written about them.

[lawrence9gold]

The Anatomy of Socially Entrenched Cruelty | Three Pressure Points for Change

The Anatomy of Socially Entrenched Cruelty ~ Three Pressure Points for Change ~ . . .

Lawrence Gold

You may have noticed that these times are a bit crazy and that the craziness is a bit "in our faces".  I'll be talking about the underpinnings of that craziness, which is cruelty (a major disease of humanity), and the work needed to curb and transform it.  This is an advisory piece of writing, not an academic or merely theoretical one.

In the current administration of the United States government, in the behavior of large segments of the citizenry, and in world events at large, we have seen and have been seeing systemic cruelty in an extraordinarily visible way. It's a disease of humanity in which the perpetrators somehow believe they are right (or excused, or above the law), that they have the right and in which everyone else are hapless victims ("tough luck").

Recognizing what we are dealing with is the first step to handling it.

We have been seeing:

racism

sexism

"religious" warfare

sexual abuse by members of the clergy and people in "power positions"

indiscriminate public attacks by "shooters"

corporate greed, pay inequities, and environmental abuse

selling out by politicians of their Constitutional duty to their constituents (electorate) in service to Big Money, political agendas, and political ambition

and equally

self-righteous emotional abusiveness by those who supposedly stand for correction of these abuse patterns, but who indiscriminately make racist and sexist assumptions about their allies and sympathizers (you know who you are).

EFFORTS at SOCIAL JUSTICE

People who want social justice typically target an issue or two (e.g., racism and sexism) and agitate for change. Two things about that:

By concentrating on one or two issues, they miss the larger picture, the problem of which their favorite issues are symptoms, a problem that isn't political, but personal and cultural. They seek to put out "fires" instead of addressing the mindset that starts fires. There are just too many fires to efficiently go after them, individually.

Agitation (power over others), in itself, is insufficient. People also need power over themselves (intelligent discipline). I say more about that.

Passionate idealism is insufficient.  It's one thing to protest, blame, or "educate" and another thing to be effective.  Changes of behavior from legislation or policy are insufficient; what 's needed is a shift of mindset, which controls behavior from within.

To be effective, we need two things:

understanding (which is more than knowing facts or history, but an intuitive understanding of relationships)

focused and coordinated action at least equal in force to the forces keeping problems in place

This piece talks about the causes of cruelty in its many forms, exposes "pressure points" for change, and talks about how to apply pressure to those pressure points.

Some of it is not what you think.

SIGNS of the CRUEL MINDSET of the TIMES

Cruelty shows up in the behavior of the U.S. government:

as the current implementation of immigration policy that separates helpless children from their parents

as efforts to defund Planned Parenthood and repeal the Affordable Care Act

as tax cuts for the super wealthy

as voter betrayal by politicians yielding to "pressure" by lobbyists (revolving door or otherwise), conflicts of interest, as by the gun lobby

as corruption of the legislative process by "riders" -- sections of law that have nothing to do with a particular piece of legislation -- introduced to the bill for that legislation to get them passed, when they wouldn't pass on their own

as police repression of lawful protest demonstrations (as in Occupy Wall Street)

as "racial profiling" that leads to unwarranted and unpunished police attacks, and disproportionate jailings, of innocent members of minority groups

as instances of injustice-by-omission: namely, pardoning individuals convicted of crimes who don't deserve to be pardoned, as light sentences for those who deserve heavier consequences, and as failure to prosecute (as in Wall Street bankers)

as military adventurism

as pandering to the gun lobby

as violations-with-impunity of laws and ethical standards by legislators

as lies and distortions in political campaigns

as voter suppression and gerrymandering

as betrayal of the public political will by political parties with their own agenda

You are no doubt aware of other patterns of cruelty and injustice from your personal life and the news media.

These are not separate issues, but different forms of the same underlying problem.

Patriarchy often gets the blame for cruelty in the forms of racism and sexism -- and deservedly so because its entrenched form is so often insensitive, wrong-headed, hard-headed, and out of balance -- but women also practice sexism and racism by making blanket assumptions about "white" males -- and for similar reasons:  It's easier than considering individuals, individually and personally.

It's also lazy and sloppy thinking. The abuses of patriarchy are a symptom, not a first-cause.

From these words, I expect you are now feeling the mood of cruelty -- perhaps labelled, to yourself, as "righteous anger".   Good.  Now it's time to expose it.

The Anatomy Of Cruelty

Understanding the anatomy of cruelty, rather than just reacting to it by striking at its symptoms, is the basis of any effective strategy to address it -- and change it. Understanding reveals pressure points for change.

So now, I'm going to discuss the structure or anatomy of cruelty, its origins and "pressure points".

Understanding the Anatomy of Cruelty

Cruelty involves both feeling and action. Here are the stages by which cruelty develops, which are the pressure points for addressing it:

inspiration / a good idea:  taking initiative

being persistently thwarted:  sabotage by others and "the system" (desensitization:  suppression or denial of feeling)

resentful surrender, resignation and conformity to "the system":  seeking the power of the powerful

abuse of others

You can see that a developmental sequence is involved of "going over to The Dark Side". This sequence generates an internal pressure that fuels cruelty. People of insufficient integrity go along with that pressure, rationalizing that it's a sign that they're doing the right thing, excusing their actions as if morality (personal integrity) were a popularity contest.

Any or all of these pressure points can be dealt with creatively to undermine the excuses for cruelty and cruel behavior patterns.

I'll go over the essentials.

THE ELEMENTS OF CRUELTY

DESENSITIZATION

"Desensitization" means the inability or unwillingness to feel. "Feel" doesn't mean just emotional feeling or compassion, but also the inability to perceive the bodily signals that where we are headed is abhorrent and also, the bodily signals of a direction that would feel wholesome.  Desensitization is a kind of  fear-based "dumbing down" to avoid changing ones actions -- although the fear may be buried beneath layers of anger and rationalization.  Words for this condition are, "apathy" and "resignation".

Desensitization goes with "fixed-mindedness" -- unwillingness or inability to consider to a meaningful depth anything other than what we already know and consider to be legitimate or true[ . A word for this condition is, "arrogance".

Desensitization may be caused

by childhood abuse (physical or emotional)

by childhood indoctrination and example by parents and peers

by domestic violence

by abusive training in a religious context

by military training

by corporate culture

by criminal influences

by professional standards, such as medical training in which cruelty is found and commonly accepted (consider medical procedures, pharmaceuticals with adverse side-effects (and high prices), and the 30-hour, no-sleep shifts imposed upon interns entering the medical profession)

by a hard life

by being "spoiled" -- lack of constructive discipine and the low self-esteem that results from failure to accomplish anything worthwhile (by ones own standards)

by sheer "cussedness" and refusing the discipline of too-permissive parents

by an ugly entertainment mass media featuring violence and exploitative sexuality

These are all situations that retard maturation and development and that foster desensitization.

Arrested Development Cruelty is a sign of immaturity or distorted development.  We see casual cruelty by children who have yet to mature past selfishness -- mean speech, taking or breaking the toys of others, misbehavior.  Even children with some sensitivity may be corrupted by abusive fathers and mean mothers through unwarranted invalidation, ridicule, shaming, physical violence -- and more abuse for reacting emotionally to being abused. Childhood emotional neglect also leads to failure to mature, emotionally.

A child in that condition may feel anger at the parents (or other bullies) but not dare to express it where it belongs, instead directing pent-up anger at innocent others whom they do not fear.  Schoolyard and social media bullying are examples.

Adults may feel a similar pent-up anger at bullying bosses, pay inequities, and social injustice but have no safe outlet, instead being told or required, in effect, to "Suck it up!" As people get resigned to things being that way, they may become hardened and resentful -- which they cease to notice, even as it distorts their character into a form many mistake for human nature -- that of the racist, sexist, selfish, unresponsive or incompetent individual (e.g, bureaucrats).

Pent-up anger becomes part of their identity just below the surface, rather than a temporary mood. It shows up as hard-heartedness and cruelty, power games, sexual exploitation or betrayal, and hard drinking (a significant problem, in Congress).

We become conditioned not to feel or to want to feel, with anger just below the surface just waiting to be misdirected at those whom we do not fear, when what we need to do is intelligently direct our will at those who deserve our anger (which means, overcome the intimidation we felt at the times when we were being abused). Easier said than done, I know -- but consider the alternative. There's help; see later in this piece.

Because religious training is such a loaded subject, I'll say more about it.

Religious Training

The essential selling point of organized religion is to insulate people against the trials of life -- in other words, to get people to desensitize themselves with the promises of faith and religious rationalizations (such as, "God works in mysterious ways").

In Christianity, a primary symbol is the Cross. The cross was an instrument of torture, death and public intimidation.

The Cross is considered sacred and so people are desensitized to the cruelty it symbolizes; they turn the cruelty of it into the evidence of holiness, "holy suffering", referred to as "The Passion of Christ".

They don't have a realistic understanding of The Cross; they make an idealistic symbol of it -- righteously, in the official way. Some make an esoteric symbol of it; some even love it. (There is a gospel song called, "The Old Rugged Cross", which sentimentalizes it.)

Aspects of religious history may trigger self-righteous anger in someone, who then may make it part of the mood of their religious "career", become a self-righteous "religious sourpuss", and use it as justification for abusing outsiders (of other religions) or in back-biting actions and gossip against members of their own.

Religious heirarchies (i.e., priests, bishops, nuns, etc.) have often inflicted cruelties in the name of religious discipline and been abusers (or power seekers) in secret, desensitized to the effects of their actions upon others -- or perhaps secretly enjoying satisfaction in the suffering of others the cruel way some enjoy gossip.

Humanity saw much "Christian" cruelty in the Crusades, in the Inquisition, in the Nazi movement (populated by those who considered themselves Christian), and in common anti-Semitism.

I emphasize that this desensitization and cruelty exactly conflicts with the teachings, intention, and example of Jesus.

In Judaism, particularly in the Old Testament, stories abound of the cruelties inflicted upon others, whether upon the Hebrews by persecution or by punishment-by-God, or by the Hebrews upon each other or upon other peoples by war or by massacre.

Study of the Scriptures fosters a kind of casualness about those events through mental familiarity because those who study the texts (particularly those who have been desensitized) cannot replicate  (imagine) within themselves the actual suffering caused by the actions recounted. Recounting of those events tends to make them matters more of intellect, abstract idealism, of faith and or of reason, than of feeling–experience. More desensitization.

You may easily find examples in members of other religions, including Islam and even Buddhism, more a sign of these individuals' personal faults than of the religions, themselves. ("People make philosophy out of their state of adaptation." ~~ Adi Da Samraj)

The doctrine of "Manifest Destiny" that led to the conquest of the American west and the abuses and subjugation of the American Indians was justified by passages from the Bible that desensitized people to their effects on the Indians.

In more secular times, the motives of science and commerce have largely replaced the moral teaches of religion, so that moral constraints are lacking.

Science

Science places doubt upon the subjective experience (emotions and feeling-intuition) of the individual (and even to the sensibilities of animals), so that the question, "Should it be done?" is often secondary to, "Can it be done?"  

For example, one form of scientific investigation (done for commercial purposes) is experimentation upon animals and vivisection ("cutting of the living"), as if their feelings were of no consequence or perhaps they have no feelings  (notice your reaction in this moment).

How sensitive can a scientist (or student of science) be who engages in those practices? Instead, monetary or intellectual considerations prevail. Desensitization.

Commerce: Big Business

The secular cult of commerce places legality over morality, or ethics.

Hostile takeovers, stripping employees of their pensions, "revolving door" lobbying, despoiling our environment and outright lying to protect profitability are commonplace forms of cruelty excused by legality (or the lack of legal constraints and presence of legal "loopholes").

Even the term for making big profits is cruel:  "making a killing" -- also, in business, expressions like, "killing it", "insane deal", and "steal this [fill in the blank]".

Alcohol and Drug Abuse Alcohol and drug abuse suppress or distract from feeling.

Alcohol suppresses the prefrontal lobes of the brain, which provide the discerning intelligence of humans  and self-regulation of behavior. Alcohol also stimulates the pleasure centers of the brain – making acting stupid a pleasure.

Narcotics ("narcos", meaning "related to stupor or a stuporous state") suppress (actually, overwhelm) feeling by simulating (artificially mimicking) the lift produced by the body's self-generated endorphins (pleasure-chemicals of the brain ordinarily produced by successes of one or another sort). Narcotics provide a lift when life-conditions don't cause it.

Thus, we see an epidemic of alcohol and opioid abuse in American society.

Desensitization. You get the idea.

Desire for Pleasure

Everyone wants to avoid pain and feel pleasure -- though sometimes it's reversed --  perverted. Wanting to feel a less defines pain, wanting to feel more defines pleasure.

One primal pain is hunger; the urge to avoid it shows up as appetite, which shows up first as relief from hunger and then as the pleasure of eating.

However, desensitized people need more intense pleasure to feel anything.  The feeling of, "enough" gets replaced by "I want more and more".

Hence, the epidemic of obesity and of sexual and other addictions, extreme sports, violent entertainment (including video games), loud music, pornography, over-consumption, social media addiction, the craving for power, economic inflation and unbridled greed.

When we have learned to suppress feeling, the closest safe feeling to pleasure is, relief. Cruelty brings a kind of temporary relief from pent-up anger through "acting out" -- indulging the anger and sending the desire for relief down the pecking order -- bringing the kind of distorted satisfaction gotten by ones original abusers. There's a word for it: "schadenfreude", which means, "taking pleasure in the suffering of others".

So, on one hand, we have desensitization and on the other hand we want pleasure. The result is the desire for excess, which leads to exploitation and, in power situations, cruelty.

CRUELTY as The Denial or thrwarting of Pleasure

Apart from abusers' desire to deny pleasure to others, the denial of pleasure shows up in "institutionalized guilt".

Guilt about pleasure is perpetuated in Christianity as the doctrine of "Original Sin", but it appears as common guilt even about healthy appetites.

The denial of pleasure is a kind of penance for Original Sin. Hence, the term, "guilty pleasures".  I have seen a more extreme form of penance in the practice of self-flaggelation (self-whipping of the mortal, sinful body) among Catholics in Mexico during the Easter season.

In Catholicism, the discipline of celibacy (denial of sexual pleasure) among the priesthood has led to sexual abuse -- another effect of internalized self-suppression: pressure "build-up".

Parents' disregard of children's feelings teach a child that his or her feelings don't matter. A general atmosphere of emotional volatility at home teaches a child that pleasure is dangerous. A child may hide (suppress) visible pleasure or enthusiasm to avoid becoming more of a visible target for abuse. A child may even exaggerate his or her suffering in reaction to abuse to make abusive parents feel guilty -- and later become an oppressor of others' pleasure by becoming "a downer".

The conflict between pleasure and guilt (or shame) shows up as self-oppression and the oppression of others.

And the pressure builds.

Desire for Empowerment

The desire for empowerment is another healthy impulse made unhealthy by desensitization. The desire for empowerment becomes the lust  for power.

A kind of pleasure comes with empowerment -- the pleasure of doing what we want and getting what we want.

Sabotage by authority or power-figures combined with the threat of consequences, such as disapproval, or worse, leads to self-sabotage to avoid punishment, to resignation, and to pent-up frustration.

It leads to resentment toward others who are succeeding (envy) and to the cruelty of sabotaging them as one has been sabotaged, oneself.

The cruelty shows up as a hard-hearted nature and the impulse to undermine (or not cooperate with) others.  The pent-up anger shows up as self-serving dishonesty and, "If I can't have it, no one else can, either" -- the logic of murder-suicides.

Cruelty to others starts with the memory of cruelty to oneself. That's how one learns (and fails to outgrow) it.

The NETWORK of Corruption and Cruelty

We have been suckered in by the sickness, stupidity and cowardice of people with power.

When cruel others abused us and we learned to submit to it for our safety, we also may have acquired a load of anger along with the tendency to regard abusiveness as an acceptable way to power (because our abusers got away with it).

When we have suppressed our anger for the abuse we have received, it comes out in cruelty to others (or, at best, as suppression of our urge to be cruel to others).

When we were sabotaged by power figures we dared not oppose, we learned to give in and then sabotage first ourselves, to avoid feeling the exultation of success (to avoid the oppression of others), and then sabotage others.

All of that occurs when we become desensitized to our feelings and, in fear of our abusers, sell out to them and cease to distinguish wholesomeness from abuse, right from wrong. We may say that "the lines are blurred"; it is we who are blurred.

In the mood of chronic anger and resentment, we may, with intelligence blurred, adopt the hard-hearted ways of our oppressors against others. This is how some people advance themselves in a power heirarchy (e.g., corporation or political organization) .

Networks of desensitized cruelty develop composed of mutually-excusing, mutually-validating, conformist individuals (e.g., think tanks, corporations, news organizations, banking consortia (such as The Fed), political movements and confederacies).

SUMMARY

I've outlined some of the forces behind desensitized cruelty.  I've described many forms of cruelty, but the underpinnings are all the same:

The anatomy of cruelty, described more simply, consists of

naturally wanting to feel pleasure and avoid pain

sabotage and resignation

adopting the ways of abusers in phony self-righteousness

unhandled anger, intimidation and dishonesty perpetuating the entire mess

Cruel people get "whupped" into their cruelty by authorities, power-figures of their lives, social conditions -- and insufficient integrity to come back from the abuses and effects of abuse. They "go over to The Dark Side", which, to them feels safer than confronting the cruelty of others.  The people who fail to hold them accountable are just as much at fault. They are conformists.

A Way Out?

The first thing I may have to do is to address the use of "nonviolent protest".

Non-violent protest, on the moral "high ground", must be employed strategically in concert with other tactics; otherwise, non-violent protest is a cliche of limited value when confronting cruelty, corruption, deceit and violence of one sort or another. It gets laughed at by those in power and doesn't protect protestors from police violence, as we saw at Standing Rock.

Cruel people are so desensitized  and too dense to be influenced by nonviolent demonstrations, alone. Such people must be "whupped" (or forcefully and persistently opposed) to get their attention and respect by a multi-pronged, organized "coalition" (coalescence of multiple groups in coordinated action -- political, social, economic, and personal).

People resist change. They tenaciously hold on to "what they know" -- in part because their self-image is at stake and in part because they feel their lives are at stake.

That's why such people must sometimes be "whupped" back into shape by skilled and careful "counter-whuppers" at least as powerful as those who originally "whupped" them into their distorted shape.

What to Do?

People are already using many familiar tactics:

·       protest demonstrations

·       reporting by the news media

·       political commentary

·       speeches

·       private communications

·       on-line social media exposure

·       legal action

·       public confrontations

·       lawsuits

We've seen the effectiveness of these tactics. It's slow going, isn't it?  The ways of cruelty are well-entrenched in the power connections of the world.  How are we to counter them without extraordinary means at the individual level and coordinated action at the collective level?

I'm going to present "extraordinary means", shortly.

What people generally aren't doing are these two steps.

PERPARATION by SELF-CLEAN-UP: The very first step is to uncover and disarm the ways we have, ourselves, been traumatized by cruelty. You don't want to be oppressed? Clean up the effects in you of oppression. The trauma won't go away, if you don't -- even if circumstances change. It's about more than anger; it's about how defeat and rationalized resignation change what we do and how we do it. Trauma is crippling. Cleaning it up isn't just a nicety. It's liberation, claiming your freedom.  Clean-up is required for integrity and integrity is power.  Clean-up is intelligent preparation, as I will explain, further.

PREPARATION of EMPOWERMENT: The next step is to make ourselves capable of confronting abusers. Confrontation and creativity take integrity. Lack of integrity shows up as shakiness, inability to confront, ineffectuality: disempowerment. You want to be effective?  Remove "the stopper". Uncover and disarm the fear or anxiety that surfaces as soon as we confront abusers -- which we felt when we were originally abused. That disarming of fear is called, "empowerment". You do it on an incident-by-incident basis, not as a once-and-for-all achievement. It develops. (There is no such thing as empowerment by others. Empowerment by others is better called, "permission" or "encouragement" or "authorization.")

These steps, personal clean-up and empowerment -- untraceable and safe, for you -- are the most important steps.  They open the way for recognition of opportunities, ingenuity, and the energy needed to take action. You don't hear much about personal clean-up because people generally prefer to act upon others (you know -- the ones who are at fault), rather than upon themselves -- and because they haven't experienced something that works well enough to be exciting.  The very notion of, "empowerment" is already a disempowered notion tainted by mediocrity.  The common idea of empowerment is something like pushing down harder on the accelerator pedal of your car.  What's needed is to take your foot off the brake! and steer better -- not commonly understood or taught.  We already know the result.

So, people consider changing our way of operating difficult, at best.

However, something new is available for people with initiative:  rapidly effective "personal clean-up procedures".  "Rapidly effective" is unusual and because it is unusual, it may seem unrealistic, untrue. Seeming unrealistic isn't the fault of the procedures, but of people stuck in a state of resignation, thinking they know "what's what". 

There's no way to know but to test those procedures in yourself.

I offer two procedures, freely, for the public good. These are anti-stress, self-empowerment procedures you do for and by yourself (or with a partner or mentor).  They awaken and rally imagination, intention, memory, and attention -- the four basic faculties of intelligence.

The names of these procedures are

The Gold Key Release

The Trauma Dissolution Procedure

There are others that get at deeply seated, subconscious conditioning in different ways.

It's a matter of using them.  BUT -- ya gotta wanna.

Your first test of The Gold Key Release may be on the irate state (or funk) in which you may find yourself from reading this piece.  Recover your composure. Get your natural empowerment and clarity of mind back.  This is a wake-up call.  Get started, here.

Now, some tactics that depend on preparation by these procedures for effective use:  

Refuse and, if necessary, rebuke abuse (and incompetence) where you experience them, in life -- and insist upon corrections.  Insist on integrity.  Even insist on excellence.  (Of course, you must embody it to insist upon it.) Choose your battles wisely to make best use of your time and energy.

Speak truth to power. Cruel people are authoritarians who disavow responsibility for their cruelty, or even disavow that it is cruelty. Their excuse is the examples set by their superiors and their superiors' approval of similar behavior. Call it out. IMPORTANT POINT: Speaking equally involves listening. Don't just persuade or rebuke. Listen to how what you're saying is "landing" in the listener and adjust your approach creatively; listen to the responses spoken by your listener to the point of hearing (curb your impulse to interrupt).  Listen for useful "pressure points".

Confront cruelty as high up the chain of command as we can and in a coordinated, unified way, with others. A preliminary step is to undermine the authority figures of cruel individuals -- to "whup" them whose "whupping" generated more cruel persons. Do it publicly or privately. One form of such "whupping" is legal action. Another is ostracism (refusal to interact, as in boycotting). Another is public verbal confrontation.  Another is humiliation: make cruel people and others in their "network of power connections" a laughing stock. There are others. Because cruel people are aligned with their cruel oppressors (or people like them), you may expect to hear much protest as we confront their authority figures. As the balance tips, some will give in.

We've seen the beginnings of a turnaround with Trump Republicans in Congress, who have begun to turn away from the agenda of low-self-esteem cruelty as Trump's "feet of clay" have become obvious and as he gets closer to the "fire" of indictment or impeachment -- and as they have started seeing their peers indicted or resigning.

Remember that these are people who have abandoned their feeling-integrity for the safety of mutual approval and the (expected) approval of their superiors and enablers (e.g., lobbyists and political party figures).

These are but starting points for the correction.

Know what you're dealing with. Go beyond remembering how bad things have been and using those memories to stir yourself (and others) up, as if your responsibility ends, there. Use your imagination to apply pressure to pressure points.  Clean yourself up and prepare yourself.  Those are the most important steps to defeating and redirecting cruelty in a wholesome direction. 

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