#fred would be the reason why their medical section is so big

[luciddaydreamingworlds]

I think it'd be cute if the Thorny Towers polycule opened a library together.

[haddonfieldproject]

<<PREVIOUS⏺<<CONTENTS>>

WARREN COUNTY/CARPENTER COUNTY LINE, ILLINOIS

Twenty Seven Hours Later

“Oh god!” The Governor turned from the Mustang with a hand over her mouth, her face suddenly pale.

“Oh jesus fuck!”

She took off across the roadway, running has fast as her flats would carry her. One of those shiny black shoes slipped on the wet asphault causing her to teeter, but she did not fall. She reached the tall wet grass on the opposite side of the road, bent, and proceeded to vomit in the ditch there. Salazar hurried after her.

Meeker and McGrath gave each other a tired look, and then looked back to the wreck. They barely noticed the white truck pull up behind them and Fred Colbourne hop out. A siren wailed in front of them as another Carpenter County Fire Department vehicle joined the other one and ejected six or seven more fire fighters in full yellow and orange regalia.

McGrath pointed to the crumpled body which lay in the middle of the road, atop the white lines.

“That's definitely Lloyd Chumway there,” he said morosely, “And this one here in the drivers seat...that's Lee.”

Meeker spit. “Pretty well intact, considering.”

“Well, they were in a pretty nice truck.” McGrath said, glancing over to the Governor who had now dropped to her knees. Salazar held her gently by the shoulders. She was still wretching.

“It's Booger's truck,” Meeker replied softly.

“The cook from the diner? The one with his head in the..”

Meeker cut him off, “Yep.”

“What about the kids in the Mustang? Can you ID them?” McGrath asked, walking around to the other side of the orange sports-car.

“Well,” Meeker took a deep breath, “This is Brad Doyle's mustang. He's pretty well known by the police around here. Not a bad kid.” He spit again, “But not a very good one either.”

McGrath's eyes panned across the headless torso in the driver's seat clad in a blood soaked Code Orange shirt. Bits of blood, bone, and brain lay all over the steel bumper of the truck which had completley intruded upon the cab of the Mustang. Some of it belonged to Brad, some belonged to the mess of a carcass that lay in the center of the car beside him. There was nothing but a heap of blood, skin, bones, and some sort of leopard print clothing. Another crumpled body lay in the backseat. Young female, her head turned around the wrong way on her neck. She was missing her legs.

“Do you know these other two occupants?” McGrath asked.

“The one in the backseat is Kyndra Bailey. I'm guessing this one,” he gulped as he looked over the tattered remains, “this one is probably Zoey Gonland, her girlfriend. They liked to hang out with Brad.”

McGrath looked up from the other side of the car, “More trouble makers?”

“They were good kids. A little bit of the talk of the town, but good kids.”

McGrath shook his head, “I don't follow.”

“A high school lesbian couple in a small town like this. Everyone knows them.”

“Jesus God Almighty,” Fred Colbourne said as he stepped up to the wreck beside them.

Another man, this one tall and thin with short brown hair, a yellow polo shirt and khaki pants also appeared beside them. Meeker looked at him. The man extended his hand.

“I'm Shelton Ganoux, the Carpenter County Medical Examiner. They called for me as soon as they arrived.” The man said, nodding a head to the fire fighters who were laboring around the wreck of the semi-truck and ambulance.

“And we here in Warren County greatly appreciate your help,” Meeker said, shaking the young man's hand firmly. “We've had one hell of a night over here and our boys are a little tied up.”

Ganoux half-bowed his head, “So I've heard.”

“What the hell happened out here,” Colbourne asked.

The Governor and Salazar re-appeared next to them. The Governor pulled a kleenex from her pantsuit pocket and dabbed at her mouth.

“It appears we have two separate accidents, occurring within about an hour and a half of each other. The orange sports-car, the truck, and the tractor trailer incident occurred at around six o'clock this morning, while the ambulance seems to have collided with the tractor trailer at around seven thirty.”

“Makes sense,” Meeker mumbled.

“What?” Colbourne asked, “What makes sense.”

“It looks like Mustang was behind the tractor trailer and went to try and pass him when they struck the Chumway Brothers in the truck coming from the opposite direction.” McGrath said.

Meeker's phone began to vibrate in his pants. He pulled it out, hit the green button on the screen, and stuck it to his ear.

“Meeker!” He barked. The voice that answered was gruff.

“Hey Deputy, it's Lorne Appleby.”

“Who?”

“Appleby, from Protective Services.”

“Oh right. Well?”

“Nothing yet. I'm gonna head to the hotel room for some shut eye. Miss. Cromer should be back in a few hours. Just wanted to keep you abreast of the...”

“Mrs. who?”

“Cromer...Ellen Cromer...from DCF.”

Meeker rubbed his forehead. “Aww yeah..right right. I'm sorry Appleby, I got a million things going on right now.”

“I know, I know. Like I said, just wanted to keep you abreast of the situation.”

“Who do I got over there now?”

“Officer Chang just left, Officer Stanton just arrived, two other officers in a squad car just went on patrol an hour or so ago...forgive me, I don't remember their names.”

Meeker adjusted the phone from one ear to the other. “Oh right, that's Warner and Farnsworth I think.”

“Maybe.”

“Okay, keep me posted.”

“Will do.”

Meeker ended the call.

“Who was that?” Fred asked.

“Guy from Protective Services about Maddie Keane.”

“Still haven't found her?” Colbourne asked.

Meeker shook his head and waved at the wreckage in front of him. “And if it wasn't for all this shit and everything else I'd have every god damn cop out there looking for her.”

Fred patted his friend's back. “I know Bengie. I know. You're doing the best you can.”

They were quiet for awhile and Ben took some deep breaths to gather his thoughts.

“You know what I'm wondering?” Colbourne asked after some time had passed.

“What's that?” Ben replied quietly.

“How in the world did no one around here hear a wreck like that?”

“Well the only ones out here are Reverend Taylor over there,” he pointed to his right, to a house on the top of a hill, “and Amos Yoder. Amos claims to have been woken up by the second accident, he's talking to the state troopers now.” he pointed to his left, toward a dirt road leading down to a quaint little farmhouse with a big red barn. An Amish man was indeed standing along side the curb next to his driveway talking to an Illinois State Trooper who was dictating his statement on a clipboard.

“Amos said he slept right through the first accident, and I've known Kevin Taylor for years, we had sleep overs together when we were kids. He has to sleep with some kind of noise. He always brought a sound machine to my house, annoying little shit.” Meeker continued, “He sleeps with a box-fan I think. He probably couldn't hear a frieght train coming through his living room.”

“Besides that it was still raining at six o'clock this morning,” Ganoux said, “the sound of the storm could have muffled much of the noise.”

“I just can't believe Gary Windorf didn't see the over-turned tractor trailer.” Colbourne said, gesturing to the ambulance. Gary Windorf had been the driver.

“We told him to haul ass,” Meeker sighed, “it was still dark and raining.”

“Plus he was coming up from over this hill,” McGrath added, waving at the rise in the road behind them.

The Governor cleared her throat. “So we have the Chumway brothers here...where the hell is Myers? Is he in the back of that ambulance where he belongs?”

“Who is Myers?” Ganoux asked.

“Objective number one,” Meeker replied, “Big guy, jumpsuit..”

“The guy with the mask, kinda toasty?”

“That'd be him,” McGrath nodded.

“He's over there.” Ganoux pointed. Three firefighters crouched beside a body near the tree line. The figure was face down in the mud only a few feet from the trailer of Gabriel Couture's truck. “It appears the patient was thrown from the ambulance.”

“But he's dead?” Meeker asked.

“Very much so. He hit a tree in mid air.” Ganoux replied.

“He was dead before he was even put in the ambulance,” Colbourne grunted.

“Well, I can't tell that. I'd need to do a full autopsy to do that.” Ganoux said.

“Forget that,” The Governor spat, “Get his ass in a body bag and let's get it back to the High School. Get all these bodies over there so we can...”

She was interrupted by the sound of approaching vehicles. The whole party turned as a black GMC Van pulled up behind the firetrucks. In the distance, it looked as if the van had been followed by a train of semi-trucks. The truck tractors where plain white with no lettering, while the trailers were gray, and also blank. The hiss of the parking brakes sounded off one at a time.

The doors of the GMC Van opened. Several almost identical looking Caucasian men in black suits stepped out. They seemed to be led by another man, who had climbed out of the passenger side of the van. He was older than the others, judging by the gray in his hair.

The older gentlemen stepped up and extended his hand to the Governor.

“Governor Harris?” He asked simply.

“I am,” The Governor replied, taking his hand.

“I'm Dick Spencer, Director of the Disaster Mortuary Operational Response Team for Region Five.”

“How do you do?” The Governor asked with a forced smile. “This is Deputy McGrath of the---”

Spencer cut her off and pulled a piece of paper from the inside breast pocket of his coat, “Did you request Federal Response?”

“Yes sir, we've had a bad night in this town---” The Governor started but again, Spencer cut her off.

“And you are fully aware that in so doing, you have allowed the Department of Homeland Security to begin to conduct an investigation into the order, as to the reasons why such an order would be placed pursuant to Guideline 542, section B, article F?”

The Governor looked at Meeker and then to McGrath, who took the roll of papers from Agent Spencer. “Yes sir..I am aware of the...”

“Excellent then,” Spencer looked down at the papers and began to thumb through them, “I have two affidavits for your law enforcement officers here to fill out. They must be in precise detail as to the events that transpired over the night , and why you would need to place an order for a portable refrigeration unit for casualty victims.” He looked at McGrath, “You need to fill one out as does this local officer...Officer----???”

Meeker took one of the papers, “Deputy Sheriff Ben Meeker.”

“Meeker,” Spencer nodded, “I also have a battery of questions we need to go over, but first I have three questions.”

McGrath took the other paper, “Yeah, shoot.”

“Do you or do you not want to be a big pain in my ass today?” Spencer asked.

McGrath laughed in spite of himself. “What?”

“I'm not aware that I said anything amusing Agent?” Spencer replied, cutting a look to Meeker and then back at McGrath, “Do you want to be a big pain in my ass today?”

“No sir,” McGrath replied.

Spencer looked back at Meeker, “Do you want to be a big pain in my ass Deputy Sheriff?”

“No sir,” Meeker replied.

“Excellent,” Spencer said, “Now let's get something straight. I don't want to be here, okay?”

Meeker and McGrath nodded.

“You are aware that last night was Halloween?” Spencer asked.

Meeker and McGrath looked at one another, not sure how to answer. McGrath was brave enough to try. “Well—yes...”

“Do little girls and boys play dress up on Halloween?” Spencer asked.

The two men looked at each other again and then replied in unison: “Yes sir,”

“You know who else plays dress up?”

Meeker and McGrath looked at each other a third time and then back at Spencer and shook their heads.

“Russian mail order brides play dress up,” Spencer said matter-of-factly. “Just hours ago, I was playing dress up with my Russian mail order bride, and you can imagine what kind of activities proceed playing dress up and drinking Vodka and 7-Up all night. And you can imagine how doing these things would be very taxing for a man my age, couldn't you?”

“Yes sir,” the men replied.

“I would like nothing better than to be back in my bed, in my Chicago penthouse, with Katya on my ‪Saturday morning‬. But instead, I'm called out to this piss-ant little town in the Storm-of-the-fuckin'-century. You can imagine how that would put me in a bad mood, correct?”

“Yes sir,” the men agreed.

“If there is any thing between those two affidavits that doesn't match up, or if there is anything that has transpired in this town that isn't cherry, or if the two of you aren't one hundred percent crystal clear and straight with me and obedient to my will like two little golden retriever puppy dogs, I will have Washington DC on my ass, and I don't want ‪Washington DC‬ on my ass for anything, and that will turn you into a big pain in the ass for me, and we don't want that now do we?”

“No sir,” they responded.

“I want to get this over with so I can go back home and enjoy my weekend, got it?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good,” Spencer pointed to the trucks, “Second question,” he said, “Where is the mobile refrigeration unit going to be erected?”

McGrath stuttered and looked at Meeker.

Meeker swallowed and said, “Best place I guess would be the parking lot of the high school...we've already set up a field---.”

“You guess?” Spencer stammered.

“Yes sir,” The Governor cut in, “The parking lot of the High School is where we want it.”

“What high school? I need a name people! I need an address!” Spencer's volume level went up a notch.

“It's Haddonfield High School, on the corner of Belmont and Main Street,” Meeker said.

“Well is it Belmont or Main Street?!” Spencer nearly roared.

“‪248 Belmont Avenue‬,” Meeker responded calmly.

“Got it,” one of the accompanyng men in black suits said quietly, and then they all turned to walk toward the first truck.

“Third question,” Spencer said, his volume level returning to normal, “is there a police station in this god-forsaken town that we conduct business in, or do we rednecks like to stand out in the road and play with our dicks in front of a bunch of mangled car accident victims?”

“I have two of my boys setting up a big tent in the parking lot of the hospital. That's gonna be ground zero for now until that scene gets under control and we can shift everything to the high school.” Meeker replied.

“The tent we use for the exhibitions on fair days and stuff. The recruitment tent?” Colbourne asked.

“Exactly. Herman Beach and Chris Huber are grabbing it from the storage unit. They should be there any minute. We should probably get over there now, I think we're done here.”

“That sounds like a fantastic idea,” Spencer said, turning back toward his vehicle. “There better be coffee.”

The Governor piped up, “Don't you have a Mayor in this town somewhere? Someone is gonna have to talk to the press!”

Meeker winced.

NEXT>> (Coming Soon)

[amphxtrite]

Ships? OMFG YES!!

(Golden era PLEASSEER!)

Hi I’m aurora! I’m 16 years old and I am a Slytherin. (Pottermore approved Bc that matters now ig)

I simp mostly for Cedric and Draco (fred as well)

But ship me with whoever you think I’d prefer male hp characters but I’m pan sexual so females is alright I just simp for hp males for some reason idk I’m weird.

I have black hair long it goes down to my butt I’m 5”2 so it matters how long you think it is for that. I have emerald green eyes. Super dark like the forest at night. I just got my braces off (yay) so my teeth are pretty straight. I ride and train horses everyday so I’m more of a rowdy socially person. I have depression and anxiety (diagnosed and medicated because that matters now to it’s ridiculous how people are these days) it plays a big part in my personality cough cough why I got Slytherin. My favorite colors are emerald green, black, and silver. My favorite class would be potions Bc those interest me the most tbh. Also im an animal loverrrrr. I’m tough on the outside but sweet and scared on the inside. Broken but glued back to together to summarize it. My horses name is sparticus. He is all black. I rescued him from the slaughter house 2 1/2 years ago. He was skin and bones and I got him fat and chunky. He is the only thing that makes me smile even when I can’t. He plays a big role in my personality since I’ve seen cruel things and he took me thru hell with his training. And I said to much shit about myself and now I’m uncomfortable. Okay bye

Rory I love you so much lmao

I ship you with...

Cedric Diggory.

how you meet

Potions class was always something Cedric had dreaded going too, Snape seemed to enjoy it when he suffered. Stepping into the cold dungeon classroom he expected an empty room and an unforgiving Snape, but instead the room was empty except for a short girl with dark hair and green eyes, scanning over a textbook and flipping the pages every so often. He couldn’t describe it, but there was something about your eyes and small smile that drew him in and he took a seat in the chair across from you.

“Um, hello. I’m Cedric.” He greets pulling his parchment and quill from his bag. A look of panic crosses your face when a person is made present in the empty class, but you soon calm down and introduce yourself.

“Aurora, but you can call me Rory.” You smile up at the grey eyes hufflepuff.

“Rory, I rather like that.” He smiles as more students flood into the room.

“I-I like your eyes.” He comments awkardly, shuffling his papers around.

“Thank you Ced, I-I like yours too.” You respond.

From then on Cedric looks forward to his class in the dungeons. It no longer feels dark and cold, but happy and warm with you sitting across from him. You partner together for most of the projects and often times wander through the halls together, just talking about whatever was on your mind.

You tutor Cedric in Potions because he’s rather horrid at it (Sometimes he pretends to suck just so he can spend more time with you.)

One day he finds you in the Magical Creatures section of the school beside a magnificent Aethonon and you introduce him.

“Oh hey Ced, this is Sparticus.” You smile up at the awed brunette.

“He’s gorgeous Rory! Do you ride him?”

You almost roll your eyes at Cedric, but hop on to show him a couple of tricks.

Cedric states with his mouth agape the entire time.

You tell him the story of how you and your family saved Sparticus and how much joy he brought to you.

Cedric smiles through your entire conversation, nodding enthusiastically and asking questions.

When Cedric finds out about your mental health he doesn’t let that affect how he thinks, but he does make sure to shower you with extra love.

He knows he’s fallen for you and he’s willing to go the distance to show you.

He loves the look on your face when he gives you flowers or gives you a hug, you just look like an innocent little soul and he wants to protect you.

He loves watching you get excited and will jump around with you often.

He likes to call you his little emerald, and you melt everytime.

If you ever get overwhelmed or are feeling anxious he’s right there beside you to hold your hand or cuddle you close helping you breathe and whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

He likes to sketch you as you ride Sparticus and he likes to leave everything colourless except for your eyes. He loves your eyes.

He asks you out on your first date by tying a note to Sparticus’s saddle and waiting. He knew it was cliché, but he’ll never forget when the look on your face as you ran towards him and jumped into his arms, squealing happily.

For the date he gets Hagrid’s permission to meet all the friendly creatures he knew. Hagrid happily obliged and oversaw the two of you as you played with Nifflers, bowtruckles, Porlocks and even a Hippogriff. Sparticus was beside you as you played. Cedric knew how much the magical horse brought you and he knew that he had to come.

The way your face lit up at every creature made every second perfect.

towards the evening the two of you bud Hagrid goodbye and walk over to a field to watch the sunset. Cedric puts his arm around you as you sit in the grass and looks down at your happy smile. He takes your chin into his fingers and tilts your chin up to meet your eyes before gently leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss.

It’s light and chasté, but eventually grows deeper as Cedric parts his lips and tilts his chin to be even closer to you. When you eventually pull away Cedric is grinning like a maniac and you’re giggling into Cedric’s side.

hope you liked this Rory!! @cedricsyellowscarf

[superscarymonster]

A Note To Self

            Yes, I know you. You’re the type who experiences a rollercoaster of world-changing and world-ending events every 24-hours. Each piece of new news is a drug – the email about a raise – an upper. That is, until you get that text about your roommate moving out – a total downer. Your emotions are tied to the latest event and somehow also tied to the past and present. If there isn’t a preoccupying thought to ponder from the day, you’ll find one to ruminate on from last month, last year or last decade- it’s all fair game if it’s not from the present.

The problem with this way, is that you never let your nervous system relax. You’re always on high alert and, like an animal being hunted, your vision is narrowed to the width of a cotton thread.  All you can see are these peppered problems everywhere – not the sun shining, not the panorama view of the world in front of you, but just these fibered issues that make up your twisted field of view.

This constant stress- it makes you uptight. You never relax and instead, hop from problem to problem. Some would call this chronic anxiety, but such a medical title perhaps can lead one to feel as though soothing is reliant on a prescription. Solutions aside, you indulge in this way of being because you think it will help you succeed. Once you can validate the behavior, it becomes even harder to change.

However, once you decide that being a stress ball isn’t serving you, the power to improve your way of being is in your hands. You are always practicing how you are. Your brain is but a spring. It always wants to coil back into the position you morphed it into, but if each day, you spend some time with heat and pliers, coaxing the curls of the spring, it can start to remember a new shape- a less stressed way of being. How can you start to shape your spring? Here is what I would recommend:

1.)   TAKE A VERY DEEP BREATH AND CALM YOUR NERVOUS SYSTEM

Our brain takes cues from the body. A dancing body tells the brain to feel joyful and expressive. A laying body tells the brain to be calm and a clenched body tells the brain that we are being attached.

Dr. Fred Luskin explained in our LIFE 101 class that we rarely deeply breathe, largely because we hold in our stomachs as though we’re just about to take a punch. This position communicates to our brains that we are in trouble and causes us to be on high alert. To immediately calm the mind, one can simply let out their stomach and breathe deeply.

Give it a try.

All the way in and all the way out.

Tell yourself through your breath that you’re not under attack and start to feel yourself loosen. Once you do this, try a small giggle – a tiny laugh.

Laughter forces repetitive deep breath and releases endorphins, which is why the practice of Laughter Yoga, as introduced In the TEDMED Live Talk by Dr. Madan Kataria , has the word “yoga” included. Whether it’s a laugh or a Lion’s breath, take a moment to settle your mind.

2.)   DISTANCE YOURSELF FROM YOUR THOUGHTS

Once you’ve calmed your nervous system, try separating yourself from your thoughts. As you start to do so, you might notice someone rather mean talking to you. In class, we discussed this voice, identifying it as the Buddhist idea of a Mara. It’s an inner “demon” that criticizes. It clogs your mind with negative chatter, wining randomly about this and that. It’s here, it’s there. It’s now, it’s then and being tied up in your thoughts, often painful thoughts, means you are always time-travelling. Distancing yourself from your thoughts allows you to be fully present and gain back the power of your own attention. You can watch the thoughts pass by like a river, associating deeply with only those that serve you. We can understand the power of this distancing when it comes to our well-being through Jennifer Aaker’s talk, “Rethinking Happiness”. In her talk, she highlights how those who are told to be happy or feel like they *should* be happy experience less happiness. She mentions that we “overshoot” in our efforts to find joy and one might assume this is because of the self-talk that comes with expecting happiness. We expect to feel a certain way and criticize ourselves when we don’t, reducing our natural and quiet feeling of happiness. Quieting that self -talk and that inner voice allows us to experience what is, rather than our narration of what is.

3.)   PRACTICE SELF COMPASSION

We try and get an A+ in feeling happy so that we can be good. However, like Mary Oliver’s Poem “The Journey” says,

“You do not have to be good. / You do not have to walk on your knees / for a hundred miles through the desert repenting./ You only have to let the soft animal of your body / love what it loves.”

This idea that we don’t need to self-flagellate or push ourselves to be martyrs is the idea behind self-compassion. It’s simply treating ourselves as a friend. In her talk, Jennifer Aaker continues to explain that the good isn’t as good and the bad won’t be as bad as we expect. We just mostly are. We just mostly will be. This unchanging means that no matter how much you punish yourself you will not be happier later as a result of suffering now.

As we also reviewed in class, you are probably quite fine. You might even be lucky and with this said, why punish yourself so deeply for gaining a pound or failing a test?  We are human and bad things happen to all of us.  

In our lack of self-compassion, we are often being illogical, thinking these bad things mean we are bad people with bad lives. Therefore, to avoid being wholesomely bad,  we try and protect ourselves from negative events by always being on high alert. It’s a strange way of being that completely skews our view of the world. We try and avoid suffering later by increasing our suffering every day. However, it simply doesn’t protect us against anything. The poem The Dakini Speaks, speaks frankly to this confused logic.

The Dakini Speaks

My friends, let’s grow up./ Let’s stop pretending we don’t know the deal here./ Or if we truly haven’t noticed, let’s wake up and notice./ Look: Everything that can be lost, will be lost./ It’s simple

…..

let’s give ourselves to it!/ Let’s stop making deals for a safe passage: …

                       —Jennifer Welwood

This idea that we should stop bargaining for a safe passage allows us to be compassionate with ourselves when something goes wrong and it allows us to compassionate with others when luck isn’t on their side.

After all, something will always go wrong and when it does, you will handle it.

And you will not blame yourself.

So while everything is okay, you can enjoy the day.

4.)   SETTLE IN TO WHAT THIS IS

In class, we reviewed the quote by Annie Dillard that says

How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing. A schedule defends from chaos and whim. It is a net for catching days. It is a scaffolding on which a worker can stand and labor with both hands at sections of time. A schedule is a mock-up of reason and order—willed, faked, and so brought into being; it is a peace and a haven set into the wreck of time; it is a lifeboat on which you find yourself, decades later, still living. ― Annie Dillard, The Writing Life

At the moment, my friend, you are spending your life in hysterics. You are spending your life being stressed, and tired and angry and ecstatic. We sometimes think that hysterics mean we care, but this dramatic idea seems to be narrative more than anything else. To be truly present to what is and to be truly engaged in our lives is simply to be alert and observant. As a young person, perhaps you’re worried about your future, but just as we can engage fully in the now, you can engage fully in the future by being present and alert to what’s next rather than trying to control it. This full engagement and readiness – captivation with what is- is awe. Maybe like you, this surprised me.  This quiet calm is not the kind of awe I’m used to seeing when a child walks into Disneyland, or when someone proposes and the woman weeps, or when a basketball team wins, and the bar erupts in high-fives. This awe is calm.  It’s simply ready to see what’s next and open to seeing it wholly. This is beautifully put in the poem Is My Soul Asleep by Antonio Machado.

“…No, my soul is not asleep./ It is awake, wide awake./ It neither sleeps nor dreams, but watches,its eyes wide open/ far-off things, and listens /at the shores of the great silence.

-        Antonio Machado , translated by Robert Bly

Next time you hear bad news, or great news, perhaps you can take it in as a wave of life. You can see it as a new hint of your future appearing as you sail your ship instead of seeing it as a threat against which you must protect yourself, or a treat towards which you must run before it disappears. Remember that each day is yours to enjoy. This one day is the only thing that is sure for you, so spend it intentionally and in awe, rather than clenched and with a narrow view of this great big world.

[theinvinciblenoob]

Some more comments from readers on the changing culture around startups filing their Form Ds with the SEC, and then a short update on SoftBank and a bunch more article reviews.

We are experimenting with new content forms at TechCrunch. This is a rough draft of something new – provide your feedback directly to the authors: Danny at danny@techcrunch.com or Arman at Arman.Tabatabai@techcrunch.com if you like or hate something here.

Lawyers are pretty uniform that disclosure is no longer ideal

If you haven’t been following our obsession with Form Ds, be sure to read our original piece and follow up. The gist is that startups are increasingly foregoing filing a Form D with the SEC that provides details of their venture rounds like investment size and main investors in order to stay stealth longer. That has implications for journalists and the public, since we rely on these filings in many cases to know who is funding what in the Valley.

Morrison Foerster put together a good presentation two years ago that provides an overview of the different routes that startups can take in disclosing their rounds properly.

Traditionally, the vast majority of startups used Rule 506 for their securities, which mandates that a Form D be filed within 15 days of the first money of the round closing. These days though, more and more startups are opting to use Section 4(a)(2), which doesn’t require a Form D, but also doesn’t provide a “blue sky” exception to start securities laws, which means that startups have to file in relevant state jurisdictions and no longer have preemption from the SEC.

David Willbrand, who chairs the Early Stage & Emerging Company Practice at Thompson Hine LLP, read our original articles on Form Ds and explained by email that the practices around securities disclosures have indeed been changing at his firm and others:

We started pushing 4(a)(2) very hard when our clients kept getting “outed” thru the Form D and upset about it. In my experience, for 99% is the desire to remain in stealth mode, period.

[…]

When I started in 1996, Form Ds were paper, there was no internet, and no one looked. Now they are electronic and the media and blogs scrape daily and publish the information. It actually really is true disclosure! And it’s kind of ironic, right, which goes to your point – now that it’s working, these issuers don’t want it.

[…]

What I find is that the proverbial Series A is the brass ring, and issuers wants to call everything seed rounds (saving the title) until something chunky shows up, and stay below the radar too. So they pop out of the cake publicly for the first time with a big “Series A” that they build press around – and their first Form D.

Another piece of feedback we received was from Augie Rakow, the co-founder and managing partner of Atrium, which bills itself as a “better law firm for startups” that TechCrunch has covered a few times before. He wrote to us that in addition to the media concerns, startups also have to be aware of the broad cross-section of interested parties to Form Ds that hasn’t existed in the past:

Today, there is a bigger audience in terms of who cares about venture backed companies. Whether this spun off from the launch of the Facebook movie or the fact that over two billion people across the global have the internet at their fingertips via smartphones, people are connected and curious. The audience is not only larger but also encompasses more national and international interests. This means there are simply more eyes on trends, announcements, and intel on privately held companies whether they are media, investors, or your competitors. Companies that have a good reason to stay stealth may want to avoid attracting this attention by not making a public Form D filing.

For startups, the obvious advice is to just consult your attorney and consider the tradeoffs of having a very clean safe harbor versus more work around regulatory filings to stay stealthy.

But the real message here is for journalists. Form Ds are no longer common among seed-stage startups, and indeed, startup founders and venture investors have a lot of latitude in choosing how and when they file. You can no longer just watch the SEC’s EDGAR search platform and break stories anymore. Building up a human sourcing capability is the only way to get into those early investment rounds today.

Finally — and this is something that is hard to prove one way or the other — the lack of disclosure may also mean that the fears around seed financing dropping off a cliff may be at least a little bit unfounded. Eliot Brown at the Wall Street Journal reported just yesterday that the number of seed financings is down 40 percent, according to PitchBook data. How much of that drop is because of changing macroeconomic conditions, versus changes in filing disclosures?

Quick follow up on SoftBank

Tokyo Stock Exchange. Photo by electravk via Getty Images

Last week, I also got obsessed with SoftBank. The company confirmed today that it intends to move forward with the IPO of its Japanese mobile telecom unit, according to WSJ and many other sources. The company is targeting more than $20 billion in proceeds, and its overallotment could drive that above $25 billion, or roughly the level of Alibaba’s record IPO haul.

One interesting note from Taiga Uranaka at Reuters on the public issue is that everyday investors will likely play an outsized role in the IPO process:

Yet SoftBank’s brand name is still likely to draw retail investors long accustomed to using SoftBank’s phone and internet services. Many still see CEO Son as a tech visionary who challenged entrenched rivals NTT DoCoMo Inc ( 9437.T ) and KDDI, and brought Apple Inc’s ( AAPL.O ) iPhone to Japan.

Japanese households are commonly seen as an attractive target in IPOs with their 1,829 trillion yen in financial assets, even if they are traditionally risk-averse with over 50 percent of assets in cash and deposits.

More than 80 percent of the shares will be offered to domestic retail investors, a person with knowledge of the matter told Reuters.

Pavel Alpeyev at Bloomberg noted that “SoftBank is looking to tempt investors with a dividend payout ratio of about 85 percent of net income, according to the filing. Based on net income in the last fiscal year, that would work out to an almost 5 percent yield at the indicated IPO price.��� A higher dividend ratio is particularly attractive to retired individual investors.

Despite SoftBank’s horrifying levels of debt, Japanese consumers may well save the company from itself and allow it to effectively jump start its balance sheet yet again. Complemented with a potential Vision Fund II, Masayoshi Son’s vision for a completely transformed SoftBank seems waiting for him in the cards.

Notes on Articles

Tech C.E.O.s Are in Love With Their Principal Doomsayer – Nellie Bowles writes a feature on Yuval Noah Harari, the noted philosopher and popular author of Sapiens. Bowles investigates the paradoxical popularity of Harari, who sees technology as creating a permanent “useless class” and criticizes Silicon Valley with his now enduring popularity in the region. Interesting personal details on the somewhat reclusive Israeli, but ultimately the question of the paradox remains sadly mostly unanswered. (2,800 words)

Why Doctors Hate Their Computers – Atul Gawande discusses learning and using Epic, the dominant electronic medical records software platform, and discovers the challenges of building static software for the complex adaptive system that is health care. His observations of the challenges of software engineering will be well-known to anyone who has read Fred Brooks, but the piece does an excellent job of exploring the balancing act between the needs of technocratic systems and the human design needed to make messy and complicated professions work. Worth a read. (8,900 words)

Picking flowers, making honey: The Chinese military’s collaboration with foreign universities – An excellent study by Alex Joske at the Australia Strategic Policy Institute on the hundreds of military scientists from China who use foreign academic exchanges as a means of information acquisition for critical scientific and engineering knowledge, including in the United States. China’s government under Xi Jinping has made indigenous technology development a chief domestic priority, and the U.S. innovation economy is encouraged to increasingly guard its intellectual property. (6,500 words)

The Digital Deciders – New America report by Robert Morgus who investigates the fracturing of the internet, which I have written about at some length. Morgus finds that a small group of countries (the “digital deciders”) will determine whether the internet continues to be open or whether nationalist interests will close it off. Let’s all hope that Iraq believes in freedom of expression and not Chinese-style surveillance. Worth a skim. (45 page report, but with prodigious tables)

Reading Docket

Eliot Peper’s new science fiction novel Borderless

Daniel J Hopkins’ The Increasingly United States (about how U.S. elections are more national and less local than ever before).

via TechCrunch