#over here objectifying dead presidents

[aherdofbees]

[lazyliars]

Tubbo for the character breakdown? :D

How I feel about this character

c!TUBBO MY BELOVED.

The Sidekick. The Yes-man. The Pawn. The Child Soldier. The President. The Government. The Revolutionary. The Fool. The Scientist. The Husband. The Best-friend. The Leader. The Follower. The Underestimated.

Tubbo is a man with many titles, and as the situation calls for it, he can wear any of them comfortably.

Tubbo is defined, more than a lot of characters, by those titles, and by who calls him by which ones. The roles that he has played over his tenure on the server have left a more dramatic impact on both how he is perceived by others, and his own self-image.

He’s Tommy’s Sidekick and Best-friend - but he’s also Ranboo’s Husband, and Snowchester’s Leader, and A Scientist with Jack Manifold, and an (ex) President to Techno, and a Pawn to Dream.

What's interesting is that this relationship with titles is one he shares with Technoblade, and it's a unique way in which they foil each other. None of either of their other foils really share this dynamic, and to add to it, they both propagate this in each other. The difference is in how they deal with, feel about, and utilize it.

Techno is “The Blade” and “The Blood God,” and he hates it. He feels used, objectified, and reduced to a weapon by these titles. At the same time however, the actions he ends up taking only reinforces the way the average people perceive him – violence, blood and anarchy. The reputation Techno has aqquired often overshadows the person who might prefer to be seen as.

Tubbo on the other hand, tends to slip into the these titles without much resistance. He accepts them, sometimes for better and sometimes for worse. He's happy to be Tommy's sidekick; He takes on the role of President of L'manberg; He accepts Dream's metaphor for himself as a Pawn. But to his advantage, his flexibility within these roles and the ability to put them on and take them off as he pleases gives him a uniquely wide arsenal of social tools.

There is so much more to say about c!Tubbo but If I keep going I could be here for hours...

All the people I ship romantically with this character

I am an enjoyer of his marriage with Ranboo, although I wouldn't call myself a shipper really.

I think their dynamic as two people who value kindness, but who also possess the capacity to be surprisingly ruthless, makes them an unusually dangerous and honestly, somewhat thematically opposed pair.

Tubbo is one of the people on the server who has the longest and most consistent relationship with what Ranboo would consider “sides” which automatically sets him up as a foil. Before even L'manberg, it was Tommy and Tubbo vs. Dream, and Tubbo has always held that loyalty close to his heart, and likely wont be cutting that off anytime soon. As a consequence of this, he naturally adds Ranboo to the list of people “on his side,” quietly, but surely.

Ranboo's somewhat correct, somewhat misidentification of “sides” as the root of all conflict on the server, in contrast to Tubbo, drives him to be more individualistic, “choosing people over sides.” And accordingly, it would be a stretch to call him a member of Snowchester, despite how deeply entrenched he's become in it's founder's life. At the same time, it's clear that Tubbo is one of, if not the most important person to Ranboo out of everyone on the server, and he's willing to do anything to protect him.

All in all, Ranboo and Tubbo end up being an odd couple for a multitude of reasons, who, despite some very core differences in personal philosophy, both end up caring for each other ferociously.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

I would love to be contrarian here, but I just can't. Clingy Duo 4 LYFE!

Tommy and Tubbo's friendship, from the start of their time on the server to the current day, has been one “thing” that I continually return to, and that the story over all returns to. They are the emotional anchor of the server in a lot of ways – both a representation of it's innocent, idyllic past, and it's forward march into a darker future. Whenever the narrative wants to make a story beat feel strong and impactful, they'll often end it by echoing the scene on the bench that started everything, whether or not it's Tubbo and Tommy specifically; their Bond resonates so strongly throughout the DNA of the story that their Bench has become a Symbolic Archetype all in itself, and is something that no longer even requires the two of them present to recall it's power as a representation of Attachments, Loyalty and Platonic Love.

TLDR; Clingy Duo is the glue that keeps the core of the story together, and intentionally or not, most important friendships will end up either paralleling or foiling them by the sheer fact of how impactful their relationship is to the greater narrative.

My unpopular opinion about this character

I don't know how unpopular or not this opinion might be, but I do consider Tubbo to be a darker character than a lot of the content for him I see produced.

One way this expressed: he's incredibly pessimistic. He's a person who lives his life hyper aware of how easy it is to die, and with a full acceptance that, if a worst case scenario should arrive on his doorstep, he would die without hesitation, if he had to.

That isn't to say he isn't invested in preventing that, far from it – but there is an undercurrent of absolute certainty that he is living on borrowed time.

One interesting development on this is how he's expressed this – during the Disc Finale, Tubbo has already accepted his own death. He tells Tommy that he's “done enough” and that he should let him die so that Tommy can have his disc back. He tries to get Tommy to resign, to not fight Dream in the end because he can tell that they've already lost and he doesn't want him to have to die too or suffer more.

Contrast this to Snowchester now – as we've learned that the Nukes have dead-mans switch; a suicide button, that only Tubbo knew about. It's a far more proactive expression of this mentality, a final ace up his sleeve, so to speak, so that if an unwinnable situation should occur again, he can turn it from a loss into sick kind of pyrrhic victory.

It's important to note that Tubbo has not yet projected or pressed this mentality onto others; this is self destruction only, and I do think that says something about him, although it's less positive and more tragic.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

VILLAIN ARC. VILLAIN ARC. VILLAIN ARC.

Okay, as a specific example, there is sooooo much missed potential for Egg!Tubbo (and Egg!Tommy) and I will die on this hill.

Imagine, in a world where Tommy isn't immune: Tubbo gets trapped and infected by the egg, as it offers to grant him the one thing he wants most in the world.

The vines grow around Snowchester, seeping into the cracks in it's walls and then hardening into a scaly form, creating a shell around his home. The ambient radiation causes the egg to grow faster in this area, and form odd spikes that loom outwards from the heart of the town, like blades pointed at anything that gets too close.

Tommy realizes too late what's happened, and when he tries again and again to convince Tubbo to just come with him, please come with him to Church Prime, he’s sure that they can find a way--

--he ends up letting Tubbo lead him, and follows him down to the depths of the egg.

When the doors behind them are covered in thick vines, and the humidity of the room increases, and every breath feels like it draws in clouds of dust, it’s already too late to run.

Tubbo stays with Tommy for the two weeks it takes for his will to break and the egg to infiltrate his mind; it's offers of wealth and vengeance and rebuilding L'manberg and resurrecting Wilbur and making people love him and making him powerful and giving him the whole world--

--all rejected, until finally, in the sickening red haze of Tommy's mind, a single scene; a clear blue red sky, the sun high and bright, a warm breeze blowing in, a bench, the sound of good music, and there--

Tubbo moves and the vines around him creak, having been undisturbed for days. He places his hand on the mass of crimson where Tommy is trapped waiting.

--Tommy grins and rushes forwards, all of the weight in his heart, all of the dread and responsibility and fear and anger and hurt and pain, all of it suddenly gone on the breeze as he takes his place next to Tubbo on the bench.

The Eggpire grows. The vines begin to appear in more vulnerable places – peoples secret rooms, near their pets, wherever they keep their most sentimental objects.

Tommy loves causing harmless mischief, and the feeling of being accepted, of being cared for? It's perfect. Nothing can touch him now, where everything is simple and easy and just the way it should be.

Tubbo knows. It's not a deep feeling, it's not a secret part of himself still in there, still fighting. He knows, and when he sees Bad staring him down, piercing through him, he knows that Bad knows too.

There is no kinship for them. There can't be. That would be too close to rebellion against The Crimson. That would be too close to comfort.

But Tubbo knows quietly. He's not a follower by nature, but he'll follow now, simply because he's seen the most logical way to attain what he wants.

And he and Tommy will make a kinder, safer world then the one the Crimson is eating now.

[seriousbusinessforhumans]

Feb 2018

The Southern Poverty Law Center (SPLC) counted over 100 people killed or injured by alleged perpetrators influenced by the so-called "alt-right" — a movement that continues to access the mainstream and reach young recruits.

On December 7, 2017, a 21-year-old white male posing as a student entered Aztec High School in rural New Mexico and began firing a handgun, killing two students before taking his own life. At the time, the news of the shooting went largely ignored, but the online activity of the alleged killer, William Edward Atchison, bore all the hallmarks of the “alt-right”—the now infamous subculture and political movement consisting of vicious trolls, racist activists, and bitter misogynists.

But Atchison wasn’t the first to fit the profile of alt-right killer—that morbid milestone belongs to Elliot Rodger, the 22-year-old who in 2014 killed seven in Isla Vista, California, after uploading a sprawling manifesto filled with hatred of young women and interracial couples (Atchison went by “Elliot Rodger” in one of his many online personas and lauded the “supreme gentleman,” a title Rodger gave himself and has since become a meme on the alt-right).

Including Rodger’s murderous rampage there have been at least 13 alt-right related fatal episodes, leaving 43 dead and more than 60 injured (see list). Nine of the 12 incidents counted here occurred in 2017 alone, making last year the most violent year for the movement.

Like Atchison and Rodger, these perpetrators were all male and, with the exception of three men, all under the age of 30 at the time they are alleged to have killed. The average age of the alt-right killers is 26. The youngest was 17. One, Alexandre Bissonnette, is Canadian, but the rest are American. 

The “alternative right” was coined in part by white nationalist leader Richard Bertrand Spencer in 2008, but the movement as it’s known today can largely be traced back to 2012 and 2013 when two major events occurred: the killing of the black teenager Trayvon Martin and the so-called Gamergate controversy where female game developers and journalists were systematically threatened with rape and death. Both were formative moments for a young generation of far-right activists raised on the internet and who found community on chaotic forums like 4chan and Reddit where the classic tenets of white nationalism — most notably the belief that white identity is under attack by multiculturalism and political correctness — flourish under dizzying layers of toxic irony.

The Killings Started in California

The timeline for alt-right killers began on May 23, 2014.

On that day, college sophomore Elliot Rodger stabbed his three roommates to death before driving to a sorority house at the University of California, Santa Barbara, and shooting several women. He then killed or injured several pedestrians with both gunfire and his vehicle before exchanging fire with police and eventually taking his own life. He ultimately killed seven and wounded 14.

Rodger left behind a sprawling 107,000-word manifesto titled, “My Twisted World: The Story of Elliot Rodger,” which contained passages lamenting his inability to find a girlfriend, expressing extreme misogyny and various racist positions including disgust for interracial couples (despite the fact that he was multi-racial himself (half-Chinese)).

“How could an inferior, ugly black boy be able to get a white girl and not me? I am beautiful, and I am half white myself,” Rodger wrote. “I am descended from British aristocracy. He is descended from slaves.”

Rodger frequented PUAhate, a deeply misogynistic forum populated by failed “pick up artists” dedicated to revealing, “the scams, deception, and misleading marketing techniques used by dating gurus and the seduction community to deceive men and profit from them.” Discussions about women on the forum are at best objectifying and at worst, violent.

The term, “white sharia,” allegedly coined by Sacco Vandal of the popular alt-right site Vandal Void, is a radical response to Patrick Buchanan’s argument in Death of the West: that the increase in immigration and decline of white birthrates is leading to the end of Western civilization. Rodger’s celebration at the 504um, one of the premier alt-right forums, is the rule rather than the exception, and locates misogyny at the core of the alt-right.

Andrew Anglin, the neo-Nazi Daily Stormer’s founder and chief propagandist, has his own troubling history of vicious misogyny, tracking all the way back to high school.

In the aftermath of Rodger’s killing spree, a user at 4chan/b/ posted a photo from Rodger’s Facebook page with the note, “Elliot Rodger, the supreme gentleman, was part of /b/. Discuss.” This sentiment was echoed by other /b/ users who found similarities between his lexicon and that of the noxious board, including the term “beta,” used by men online to describe themselves as lacking the physicality, charisma and confidence associated with alpha males.... The term resurfaced on 4chan/r9k/ in the wake of a shooting at Umpqua Community College in Roseburg, Oregon, by Chris Harper-Mercer, who killed nine and wounded at least seven others at the college on October 1, 2015. “This is only the beginning. The Beta Rebellion has begun,” one anonymous user wrote. “Soon, more of our brothers will take up arms to become martyrs to this revolution.”

Although never proven, it is widely speculated that Harper-Mercer was a user on the board as warnings against attending school the following day that circulated on the eve of the shooting. Authorities believe Harper-Mercer, who like Rodger was multi-racial, was also motivated by white supremacist ideas. The Government Accountability Office categorized the Roseburg killings as “white supremacist” in an April 2017 report.

2017: A Year of Alt-Right Violence

The first killing in 2017 that can be tied to the alt-right occurred on January 29 in Canada. A 27-year-old university student named Alexandre Bissonnette allegedly brought a semiautomatic rifle into the Islamic Cultural Centre of Quebec City and shot and killed six worshippers while injuring 19—two critically.

On May 20, 2017, Sean Urbanski, a 22-year-old University of Maryland student, allegedly stabbed and killed newly commissioned Lt. Richard Collins, III. Authorities described the attack as “totally unprovoked.” Urbanski approached Collins, who was black, and two friends at 3 a.m., seemingly intoxicated, and said, “Step left, step left if you know what’s best for you.” When Collins refused, Urbanski stabbed him. Urbanski, however, was a member of a Facebook group called “Alt Reich: Nation”.

Less than a week later, Jeremy Christian, a 35-year-old Portland resident, allegedly stabbed and killed two people and severely wounded another passenger on a train while they were defending two young women from his anti-Muslim and racist remarks. Christian, who identified as a white nationalist and had a history of violence and mental illness, had a Facebook page filled with racist and bizarre political content. Witnesses at an alt-right free speech rally in the month preceding the stabbing saw Christian wearing an American flag cape, yelling racial slurs and making Nazi salutes. 

Two months later, on July 14, 2017, Lane Maurice Davis, 33, allegedly stabbed his father, Charles Davis, to death at the family home in Skagit County, Washington, after accusing his father of pedophilia. Davis, a conspiracy theory obsessive who went by the name ‘Seattle4Truth’ online and accused his father, not based on his own experience, but instead on his belief that liberals around the world are participating in secret pedophilia rings. Davis was reportedly a researcher for Milo Yiannopoulos and claimed to have ghost written pieces on Breitbart News for the former tech editor. 

In the months leading up to Unite the Right, members of the alt-right colonized and organized themselves on the gaming chat platform Discord. This includes Auernheimer who was a frequent participant in the Daily Stormer’s server, “Thunderdome,” where he regularly interacted with site readers and put out calls for action.

Young, White, Angry, Male

According to Dr. Eric Madfis, author of a 2014 paper on the intersectional identities of American Mass Murderers, young, white, middle class, heterosexual males commit mass murder at a disproportionately high rate relative to their population size in the United States.

The rate of mass murders spiked in the 1970s and 1990s. Between 1966 and 1999, there were 95 cases of mass public shootings. Between 1976 and 2008, mass murders occurred roughly twice per month, claiming an average of 125 deaths each month. A more recent study published by Mother Jones identifies 95 mass shootings in the United States since 1982. Of those, 55 (59%) were committed by white men.

FBI crime data suggests that ages 16 to 24 are peak time for violent crime. According to Dr. Pete Simi, Director of the Earl Babbie Research Center at Chapman University, "This is a period of substantial transition in an individual's life, when they're less likely to have significant attachments in their life that deter them from criminal violence."

Madfis’s 2014 paper from the University of Washington investigates the role of intersectional identities in mass murder incidents and argues that young, white males' unique downward social mobility, relative to his expectations, accounts for their overrepresentation as perpetrators of mass murder.

Only one in five mass murderers are “likely psychotic or delusional,” however, according to Dr. Michael Stone, a forensic psychiatrist at Columbia University.

A 2001 study conducted by Meloy examining 34 adolescent perpetrators of mass murder found that 59% were the direct result of a triggering event. That rate jumped to 90% among adult mass murders. 

Dr. Elliott Leyton, an expert on serial homicide, argues that contemporary mass murderers often target the perceived source of lost financial stability or class prestige. The alt-right, which couches its mission in terms of surviving literal extinction, routinely laments so-called reverse racism and affirmative action as well as immigration in all its forms.

The grievances collected by those motivated by the white nationalist ideology at the heart of the alt-right often do not begin with racist propaganda, but rather in the toxic communities of the men's rights movement... The age-old racist argument - that black men are 'taking our women' — is made regularly. Racist slurs are chucked around casually. There seems to be a significant overlap with organised white supremacy." 

Andrew Anglin once wrote “[o]ur target audience [for the neo-nazi website Daily Stormer] is white males between the ages of 10 and 30.”

Wiring Young Neurons

“Our target audience is white males between the ages of 10 and 30,” Anglin wrote in his “PSA: When the Alt-Right Hits the Street, You Wanna be Ready.” “I include children as young a ten, because an element of this is that we want to look like superheroes. We want to be something that boys fantasize about being a part of. That is a core element to this. I don’t include men over the age of 30, because after that point, you are largely fixed in your thinking. We will certainly reach some older men, but they should not be a focus.”

[Richard] Spencer told Mother Jones in December of 2016 before a contentious speaking engagement at Texas A&M University. “I think you do need to get them while they are young. I think rewiring the neurons of someone over 50 is effectively impossible.”

Undeniably, their efforts have had success. Mainstay racist conferences, like the annual gatherings of American Renaissance and the National Policy Institute, are attracting larger audiences, no longer dominated by their once singular demographic of middle-aged white men.

On a panel at Harvard University in October, Derek Black, son of longtime white supremacist Don Black, who once represented the future of the movement until he renounced racism during college, described his surprise at seeing so many young participants in Charlottesville:

I can say for sure my entire life in white nationalism I went to conferences many times a year. I spoke at them. I tried to organize them. I organized online through my dad's site [Stormfront] through organizations whether Jared [Taylor]'s AmRen or David [Duke]'s EURO or Council of Conservative Citizens … Everybody at these things is gray-haired. Me and two other people would be under 40. That was it. Which is partly why I took this impression that this is not gonna last. And a lot of that is because young people have a lot to lose … Young people who show up to a rally like that are going to get their identities exposed online and then it's gonna be hard for them to get jobs … I cannot actually explain what changed. The one striking thing about Charlottesville…was there's a ton of young kids like college-age or actual college students who got on buses and went to this who I don't think had been to an event like that before. 

Alt-right groups such as Identity Evropa and Vanguard America are marketing themselves exclusively to college and high school-aged individuals.

Then, on October 19, barely two months after the chaos of Charlottesville, the University of Florida was forced to host a Spencer speaking engagement under threat of a lawsuit........................ Hours later, three of his supporters were arrested for attempted murder after an alleged confrontation with protestors in which Spencer’s supporters threw stiff-armed salutes and one fired a shot at the urging of his accomplices. 

Not Even 21

James Alex Fields was only 20 years-old when he drove his Dodge Challenger into a crowd of attendees and protestors during August’s Unite the Right rally in Charlottesville, Virginia, injuring 19 and killing 32-year-old Heather Heyer. Fields stood with members of Vanguard America during the rally and carried a shield with the militaristic, alt-right group’s insignia on it.

According to police records, Fields also had a troubling history of childhood domestic violence — which experts see in about 1 in 6 mass killers. In 2010, Field’s mother called 911 after he attacked her for telling him to stop playing a video game. Other records reveal that he brandished a 12-inch knife at her on a separate occasion. His disabled mother uses a wheelchair.

Just three months prior to Unite the Right, another young, white man with a history in the alt-right, 18-year-old Devon Arthurs, allegedly killed two of his roommates... in Florida. Arthurs, who was taken into custody by authorities after holding employees of a tobacco shop hostage, had converted to Salafism, an ultraconservative form of Sunni Islam, and begun defending ISIS online a year prior. He was previously a leader of a National Socialist group known as the Atomwaffen (“Atomic Weapon”) Division which formed on the fascist forum Iron March. 

In the year leading up to the shooting, Arthurs appeared to be blending his alt-right beliefs with his newfound adherence to extremist forms of Islam. His username changed from Weissewolfe to Kekman Al-Amriki, a combination of the trollish god of “meme magic” common to 4chan and the name of an American member of al-Shabab, an Islamic militant organization. According to VICE, Arthurs also spoke of “white sharia,” a concept exemplifying the brutal, misogynistic core attitudes of the alt-right and those it has inspired to violence.

Leaderless Resistance

In 2014, after longtime Klansman Frazier Glenn Miller Jr. killed three at a Jewish community center and a retirement home in Overland Park, Kansas, Brad Griffin of Occidental Dissent published an article on the topic of “self detonating lone wolf vanguardists.” According to Griffin, “a ‘self detonating lone wolf vanguardist’ is someone who is radically alienated from society and who has given up on persuasion, a fanatacist who is inclined toward violent methods of bringing about eschatological political change, who usually acts alone or with an accomplice in the name of a movement without the support of assistance of any group, and who typically explodes, lashes out, or ‘self detonates’ without warning in rampage shootings, murder-suicides, and bombing campaigns.”

In its just over four years of operation, the Daily Stormer’s audience included at least three readers who were either convicted or indicted for murder. 

"An Age of Ultraviolence"

On June 17, 2015, Dylann Storm Roof killed nine African-American worshipers and wounded one while attending a Bible study class at Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston, South Carolina. Roof, then 21, told his victims, including Reverend and State Senator Clementa Pickney, that, “I have to do it. You rape our women and you’re taking over our country, and you have to go.”

In a manifesto posted to his website, lastrhodesian.com, Roof cited the Trayvon Martin case as his inspiration for searching on Google for “black on White crime.” According to Roof, “I have never been the same since that day. The first website I came to was the Council of Conservative Citizens. There were pages upon pages of these brutal black on White murders. I was in disbelief.”

On March 22, 2017, another Daily Stormer reader, James Harris Jackson, was arrested after stabbing 66-year-old black man Timothy Caughman with a sword in Manhattan. Jackson, an army veteran, was 28 at the time of the alleged stabbing. He travelled to New York from Baltimore, Maryland, to conduct a “practice run” for what was intended to deter white women from race-mixing. He told a media source after his arrest that, “the white race is being eroded.” 

On Friday, December 27, a 17-year-old white male, reported to be Nicholas Giampa, allegedly shot and killed the parents of his ex-girlfriend in Reston, Virginia, before turning the gun on himself. According to reports, the parents had facilitated the break-up after learning that Giampa held neo-Nazi beliefs.

Giampa’s account also attempted to engage with those of alt-right leaders and organizations like Mike Peinovich, VDARE, the Traditionalist Worker Party, Identity Evropa, as well as Vanguard America, the neo-Nazi group that James Fields was photographed with in Charlottesville. One of Giampa’s main obsessions, however, was the hardcore neo-Nazi group Atomwaffen.

2018 is already off to a disturbing start. On January 2, Blaze Bernstein, a college student who was gay and Jewish went missing and was later found murdered. Friends of the accused murderer, Samuel Woodward, told ProPublica that Woodward was a committed neo-Nazi and member of Atomwaffen which may have as chapters in as many as eight states.

This former Atomwaffen member also said that the events in Charlottesville had a major impact on the group. Its membership doubled.  

(selected sections of article)

[adriftpsyche]

ABEO Invicta - Class Prophecy

Dropping it here so old posts don’t get read lol.

A revelation from the Higher Being, which was bestowed shows the ABEO Invicta on what must soon take place. This was made known by sending me a vision, I testify to everything I saw – the people who hear this may or may not take to heart of what is written, because the time is near.

I turned around to see the scenery that was before me. And when I turned, I saw five doors, and each door leads to different futures, the five doors are paths that each person from the ABEO Invicta chose to tread, whatever lies ahead, will have been or will not be the choices they made.

As I slowly turned the knob of the first door, I saw that there was a wide field, it was filled with countless of chances and coupons of hope, the sky was clear and blue and the ground smelled like rain kissing the grass and one can see a vivid display of a rainbow; and in there, I saw Maxine​, who will realize that she has always been more than enough, and she will be able to give the life she strived for her family. In a ​kombong​, and with her long-time lover, she adds more graffiti ​on the walls of Marawi, spreading love and not war! One day, she will also try her luck in Masterchef Australia, but unfortunately, be eliminated over a horrible plating. Speaking of food, ​Neil ​inherits Holy Halo, levels up his charisma and interpersonal skills, which prompts his confidence to skyrocket even more with nowhere to contain it. And then it shifted to a more, familiar face, ​Kirstie​, her exposure with Indians brought her to ​a whole new world​, paving the way to travels and explorations of Asian culture which she writes on her columns in a magazine but Kirstie isn’t the only one capable of swooning men of different colors, but also ​Rodrick​! A number of them love his ​diction and his love for art and aesthetics. And in that magazine, the Gazette, ​Sittie – now Dr. Sittie Aslimah Malaco, gets featured for being a writer on her cultural heritage and is now among the highly recommended candidates for a leadership position in the MSU system and in occasion, meet-ups with ​Bea​, a spazzer and a content writer in All-KPop, a renowned site for KPop News who rediscovers herself and tries to puzzle herself back piece by piece in a steady but secure pace. Speaking of spazzing ang rediscovering the self, ​MaTet stands next to her. Like Bea, she’s still getting butterflies from her KPop idols and when she’s not, she uses her incredible ​patience for her teaching job at a Special Ed school. And ​Doreen​, oh our lovely goddess​, Doreen, continues ​to not claim a man, but own them, and has been getting ​breaststroke lessons from them ever since. She also revolutionizes pageantry by finding a way on how to stop these events in objectifying women. She paves the way for ​Azrael’​s two beautiful babies, by being their surrogate mother. Azra is happily married with a super hot Spanish man and lives in a beautiful bungalow located along the coast of Santorini in Greece. A beautiful surprise just like ​Sam’​ s, wherein after graduation, a small time talent scout found her, recruited and trained her which then boomed after 10 years, with her as the face of their agency. She is also a part-time secretary at a company. Of self-discoveries and dreams, Ralph​, becomes the John Green of the batch, writes melancholic but woke entries with a cigarette on hand and a glass of vodka beside beautifully disorganized drafts, in a quiet city night inside his apartment playing his indie music vibe.

After this, I went back out of the door, and proceeded to the second door, a lot of them chose to mold the minds of the next generation, the field was occupied with children looking up at several adults. ​Ave was one of them, an English professor at Misamis University after taking up her Masters degree, co-working with ​Eurey​, who followed her mother’s footsteps, and finally had her ​first long-term boyfriend​. But for ​Grace,​ a long-term boyfriend should be promoted to being a husband, and temporary kilays should be made permanent! ​Tiis ganda, no more! For surprises, everyone thought that ​Renz would become a PBA basketball player or a regular in Barangay Ligas​, but he becomes an elementary teacher while simultaneously teaching them to become the next ring legend. However, some things never change, he still continues to carry his big, bloated, and heavy bag that he has been carrying since college. Another surprise is Jocel​’s, she becomes a kindergarten teacher, out of curiosity on how the ​sociocognitive and language acquisition process happens in the human mind. Children are the perfect example for this process, and witnessing this over and over, never fails to fascinate her just like how Ate Koy ​continues to mold young minds in and out of the four corners of her classroom and has married with Sir Andrew, with her own beautiful kids who inherited her ​husband’s crazy beautiful curly hair. ​Ate Christine ​joins this group as well, she’s still the same quiet yet strict lady who is now a young school Principal that shows the children grace and simplicity. Another Ate in the field is Elaine, after a strong recommendation from the department, becomes a lecturer and then to being an English professor, by finishing her masters degree in MSU-IIT and will pursue her doctorate, where she will meet her first and last love of her life. Also in the same field is Danielle​, who still swears like a traffic horn, will be bagging awards in each of h r performances, and will be a dance and acting teacher in her own studio. She still performs along with her fiance, the critically-acclaimed Sir Michael Lagura, but dedicates most of her time to nurturing potential theater actors and actresses. These eight people, carry with them the power to unfold the minds of the youth and breed their confidence.

After this, I went back out of the door, and proceeded to the third door, those who were not afraid to strongly raise their voice for the unheard, and did not take neutrality for an answer. Their field was packed with an endless queue of people, patiently waiting for their turn to pour out and throw their weight to the persons at the end of the line which I can barely see. And so I walked over to see who were there and I saw ​Maegan​, still a very kind snowflake who also runs her own ​petshop​, becomes an animal advocate. Beside her was ​Lovely​, now a ​Pastora in a megachurch, and is giving everyone on the same field, a life-changing and anointed testimony that makes cold hearts beat again and dead dreams come alive again. ​AG and ​Ate Nikki​, are along the same lines with her – both of them become even more active leaders; AG, now a journalist in the Hope Channel while simultaneously trying to finish her masters degree and Ate Nikki, now the president of CARP, travels around the country to spread their advocacies. And advocacies are only ideas not unless there is a good promoter for that, like ​Fritz​, she continues to live up to her Moana persona as she ventures into many remote parts of Mindanao for a non-profit organization that holds educational and charitable works for environmental advocacies. Eventually, she settles down in Camiguin, where a lot of beautiful sunsets and ocean waters can be regularly seen. Contrary to beaches, I see ​Ate Patch, married to June, away from the city life in their quaint house with lovely cats roaming about. By way of art and writing books, as her living and advocates for destigmatizing mental illness through her works. The last in the circle is ​Lureva​, she finds her strength and confidence once again, where she becomes the president for Gabriella, an organization for women empowerment, she uses this platform to promote feminism, and abolish patriarchal dominance.

After this, I went back out of the door, and proceeded to the fourth door, are those who chose to represent, persuade, enlighten or discourage the public interest. In the field, I immediately saw Kuya JP​, a journalist and a researcher under the famous TV program, ​Kapuso Mo Jessica

Soho​, which helped him to be more ​longsuffering and modest ​towards other people. I also saw Ate Enya​, who becomes a filmmaker with a popular blog and holds online classes for aspiring filmmakers. Her first Masterclass was actually aired online a week ago. And of course, wher Ate Enya is, there is always the other half, ​Kuya Jzac​, a spazzer, who has gone in and out of South Korea and several countries to shoot, and study pop culture for a column in Sparkling! In that same pop culture, includes ​Kuya Roy​, a rockstar who has recently finished their second national tour and now owns a recording studio. Traveling countries have never been better, especially if they are for free! Flight attendant, Ivan​, now a revolutionary artist leaves each country he flies into with mind-numbing artworks, he also still accepts commissions on making lovely Powerpoint Presentations but he can now also make Keynote and Prezi presentation. And on presentations, nobody imagined that ​Shaira would be the brainmother of this era’s famous cosmetic taglines, she works for Teen Vogue and gets invited to speak on seminar-workshops to train young students who are into Journalism. She occasionally asks a lot of questions in our old groupchat. Another kind of presentation is ​Catherine’s​, where after graduation, she landed a few minor local modeling gigs, mostly for commercial products. She was then scouted by Mercator Artist and Model Management, a talent and model agency that housed some of the biggest models in the country including Miss Universe 2018 Catriona Gray, and has since then graced the Philippine television with her doll face. She also cover songs which can be found in her Youtube channel, some of which features Zarinah. Where they get all of these gadgets, instruments, equipments and all the technicalities? Of course, none other than from ​Peer​, who now goes around the country because he works as media advisor for a company who almost has everything, they loan and refer to him. ​Keanne​, also works on the same company who has now become a full-time IT specialist, still wearing that chinky-eyed smile. 

After this, I went back out of the door, and proceeded to the last and fifth door, in that field, are those who chose to protect and to promote the common welfare and those who have the passion to change in order for others to do great things. In the field, I only see a car, inside are a band of people you never thought we be in the same ride, behind the wheel is Zarinah​, the career woman. A lawyer with a voice worthy of being a pop music royalty, she’s the first ever lawyer in history who sings her opening speeches. Impressive, right? Sitting beside her is Claire, known for her unconventional ways, a rad lawyer who fights for LGBTQIA+ rights, perhaps she is one of the most influential lawyers in the media. At the back, ​Sheila​, former SK chairman, is now an active councillor of their city all the while actively playing volleyball leagues and sports events around Mindanao often crossing paths with multi-sport athlete veteran Lakandula who organizes more and more sports events throughout the country. Sometimes, h tries to wear ​pants on these events instead of his comfy shorts and casual slippers. ​Jolly, wins life one case at a time, putting criminals behind bars, in particular, those who continue to perpetuate misogynistic crimes. And proves to the world, or to the Universe rather​, that women empowerment can also be channelled in pageantry; there’s also ​Mia​, an ​angry lawyer. When she’s not walking around the court convincing people why justice should be served to the rightful, she’s in her fine house, writing fan fictions with LGBTQIA+ themes whilst tending to the needs of her eleven puppies and her wife, M. There to calm her is ​Jacky​, who works at the Municipal Office of Bacolod LDN, finally attaining a permanent position. She still continues to change her hair color​, but this time going for revolutionary colors such as neon orange, highlighter green, and mustard yellow, until such time that her hair has had enough of it and it starts to fall off her head. Not able to deal with the severity of her hair loss, she made the difficult decision to shave it all off and she decides to rock a bald head, serving mannequin realness. The most special of all the batch’s women of power was ​Jam,​ because of her love for film, she finally fulfills her dream to visit Hollywood. And as the ​first female chancellor of the MSU System​, she advocates for animal welfare, especially for cats. She also advocates for destabilizing stigmas on mental health. This advocacy is implemented to the institute that caused for the decrease of suicide attempts. I realize that visions are given to remind us that we can choose which dreams to pursue or to reignite a dying fire. It guides us to the right path and to the right destination. It also encourages our hearts and gives us strength in every good thing we do or say. Now, is the time to take that step and make no delay. 

 All those, only to be jolted back from reality – in front of me, is the scenery outside of my bus’ window blindingly disappearing from my eyesight the moment I try to focus on it. And then, the road becomes familiar, other than the several infrastructures and population added. It was just like the first time I travelled here for my freshman year. And after everything, I never also would have thought that I would come back to Iligan and attend my first ABEO Alumni Homecoming party.

[beforehefell]

                                        Before He Fell                            ~Chapter Three - Entry 08~

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          “He’s kidding right?” She thought to herself skeptically as she watched the dear doctor lay out the cards carefully across a newly cleared section of the work bench’s surface. Each card held a letter or number; spanning thirty-six total cards for each letter of the English alphabet, or Common as he called it, and numbers zero through nine. They reminded her of the cards used to teach toddlers.

           “Don’t give me that look.” Gaster stated, finally looking over to her as he finished laying out the cards, “This will only be a temporary measure until you begin to actually speak to me, I understand it is not the most efficient method. Or do you feel comfortable enough to use signs now?”

           Brushing her bangs aside she sighed as she simply huffed in reply to his comment. “Sign language…” She was studying, watching and replicating each slide that he provided her but… she stretched her fingers lightly, watching them bend. It was rather hard for her to grasp. WingDings was something she understood only because her mind began to adapt from years of hearing Gaster speaking it. Even now her mind was learning what each movement meant but to replicate them… it never felt right. She was sure she could produce simple sentences if she really tried but she… what if…

           “Not… not yet.” She decided and ceased floating, the bottoms of her bare feet silently tapping onto the tile floor. No matter how many times she moved ‘normally’ it continued to unsettle her when her movements caused no sounds. It is why she preferred to glide, at least then her mind was able to cope with the soundlessness.

           There was another reason of course to why she preferred to remain airborne. This reason was staring down at her as she drifted to stand beside the skeleton. It was only when she grounded herself that she was reminded of their height difference, it made her uneasy having him loom over her. She always felt a sort of satisfaction when he was forced to look up at her when they spoke, and in times like now she felt… vulnerable as he looked down upon her.

           She pushed the unease to the back of her mind, reminding herself that despite his past in regards to her physical body, he had been nothing but civil with her since they began interacting. She didn’t enjoy the way he objectified her, calling her ‘it’ and ‘human’ but there was no real harm to it and her title was something she had come to terms with of her own choosing.

           “I assume you understand how this will work?” Gaster questioned, gesturing to the cards.

           She nodded in reply, it was a simple idea. Spell out her answers to form words and sentences. It was basic and crude in the ways of communication but she supposed that given the amount of time he had dealt with yes, no, and trying to interpret her gestures for meanings it was understandable that he would want to try a method that would give more detailed answers. At least until she felt comfortable enough to speak in signs.

           “First question. A simple one.” He started, picked up his clip board and looking at his notes; which she had no idea how to read since he wrote everything in his language. She understood him just fine but reading the written form of his words was something she just could not do. “Are you… human?”

           “Simple. Right.” She thought, rolling her eyes and reaching forward and spelling out her answer, “Y-E-S-F-E-M-A-L-E-T-O-O” Adding in her gender as a preemptive move to what she thought would be the next ridiculous question.

           “So, this gives evidence that your lack of sign usage is not caused by your inability to spell.” Was his reply to the addition, a jab at her lack of progress but she watched in satisfaction as she noticed him cross out two lines on the paper of questions; knowing that despite the fact she could not read WingDings, she had correctly predicted his next question.

           “Next question. How old are you?”

           This caused her to give an exasperated sigh, “I expected something deeper.” She retorted mentally before reaching forward to spell out her answer, but stopped, her hang hovering over the cards as she began to realize the question.

           How old was she? Her mind turned trying to come to an answer. “When I fell… I was... but I’m not anymore… it’s… it’s been years… How… how old am I?” She had been in the tank for ages, unaware for so long. Even when she was finally conscious she had drifted in and out of that consciousness so often, time had become meaningless to her… Yet now, presented with this question it brought to mind another, one she had stopped considering long ago… “How long have I been down here?”

           How long since she had seen her family and friends? How long since she last saw a sunrise while jogging? How long since that night?  How long… since she had died?

           She pulled her hand back slowly, her hand shaking.  She bit the tip of her thumb as her mind reeled. “How long did they look for me? Do they still think about me? Did they ever find out about-“

           “Your age when you fell.” Gaster provided, his calm voice breaking through her inner turmoil. Her eyes turned to him, now noticed the glaze that covered them as she did. She blinked, and tears slid down her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away and gave the doctor a light nod, thankful for the clarification. As well as pulling her from the dark thoughts she fought to avoid.

           She looked back at the cards tentatively, now more cautious of the questions he was asking her. Reaching forward she pointed to two cards, one and seven, spelling out ‘seventeen’ as her answer to the question.

           “Seventeen…” She had died at seventeen. She sighed as her memories of her life danced in her head, “Forever seventeen… Sounds like a bad movie...”

           “Actually...” Gaster started, his pen tapping the edge of the clipboard lightly as he spoke, pulling her attention to him once again. Her mind spun, was he going to tell her how long she had been down here? Her real age? “Given that your body does age while stasis, albeit much slower… I would say eighteen would be accurate in describing your physical age.”

           Relief flooded her as his words reached her. She didn’t want to know, she realized. She didn’t want to know how long she had been dead or trapped in the prison that was her body. She fought with every piece of her being to not think about what she had lost. It was what she enjoyed most about speaking to Gaster; he didn’t want to know her, he wanted to know humans.

           She couldn’t help but smile at the statement. At his, unintentional as it may have been, kindness.

           Running her hands through her hair and stretching, he took a deep breath and nodded towards her companion that they could continue.

           His next questions were more in-depth, asking various questions about surface life. How tall plants tended to grow, how we produced our food, even what the monarchy was like. This one perked her interest because it let her know that Monsters had a monarchy. Humans had them as well but her region was governed by a President. Some of the questions were strange and not simple to answer and for every question she answered she saw him cross it out and write down more.

           She knew that he would have plenty more to ask once she began to use signs.

           She was beginning to feel tired, the effort of the responses starting to take effect. She was not enjoying this method of communication at all.

           “What was your profession?”

           She did a double take, looking at the skeleton for the first time since really getting into the answers. It was the first time she could recall that he had asked questions specific to her life on the surface. Even their yes and no conversations where more of a game of charades as he tried to learn about what life on the surface was like.

           She swallowed lightly and quickly pointed out her answer, wanting to move to the next one. Hoping it wasn’t focused on her, “High School Student.”

           She could see the indented curve above his left eye, the skeleton monster equivalent of his eyebrows, contort in interest at her answer and jot it down on the clipboard.

           “So you are still a child, since you attend school? Hmm… I thought you older given your… apparel.”

           The comment about her clothes confused her as she wondered what it meant but she focusing on the question, spelling out “18 legal adult age senior in school last year.” She huffed as she finished, proud. She did not want him thinking her a child. Though seventeen was not a child, saying eighteen was the legal age would be more convincing as well as adding in she was about to finish school.

           “So you were on the edge of ‘official’ adulthood when you fell.” He replied, noting the response. “What profession were you planning on entering than?”

           “Why more questions about me…” Her mind drifted to the surface. Of Amy and her talking on Career day about their futures.

           “Come on, Speedy! You could total be a Police Officer! They’d never outrun you and you’d help people out and-“

           “I’m not much for violence… I was actually thinking…

           “Social Worker?” Gaster read aloud as she spelled out her answer.

           She nodded, spelling out “Help kids.”

           He studied her carefully, something she was very used to now. For a moment she thought she saw something in his eyes when he looked down and wrote her reply down once again. When he looked back up the neutral expression he always wore had returned.

           Just as he was about to speak again, his watch began to beep. A sign today’s session was over.

           She was thankful for this. She wasn’t enjoying the trip down memory lane and was also beginning to feel exhausted. Hopefully he would not use this method too often, if not at all in the future.

           Gaster turned the timer off, reviewing his clipboard, “One last question before today’s session finishes.”

           She only gave a nod in reply, hoping it would be something simple.

           “What is your name?”

           It was a simple question but it caused her mind to spin none the less.

           “Why that?” why did he have to ask that? She stared at the cards, biting her lip lightly as she considered her answer. She had come to terms with not having a name, come to terms with just being ‘human’. Why did he question it now?

           “Would… it be so bad?” She thought, “Letting him know it?” Her gaze travelled along the room, from the doctor to the desk opposite the room, the tank… her cage. “No… No... I don’t want to hear it! If he says it… if he… that would mean…” She shook her head fiercely, hugging herself.

           “No?” Gaster replied, a hint of annoyance floating in his tone, “It’s a simple question. I am not asking to upset you. I just want to address you properly, by your name.”

           “Me? My name… Why is he asking questions about me?! I’m not anything special… I’m nothing… My name doesn’t exist… Dead things… don’t have names…” Again she shook her head in reply, her hands pressed tightly against her.

           “Do you not remember it?”

           “Remember it…? Of course I do… Just thinking about it makes me…” Images flashes through her mind; her Mom waking her up in the morning, Amy yelling out her name to get her attention in a crowd, Zach-

           “No! No… I don’t want to hear it!”

           “If you remember, why won’t you tell me?”

           She stared at Gaster, her eyes pleading with him. The plea went ignored as he waited expectantly for her answer.  

           She sighed, finally deciding to give an answer. Reaching forward she began to spell that answer out.

           “S-T-O-P-A-S-K-I-N-G” Gaster spoke aloud, reading the words as they were spelt.

           She gained some satisfaction, seeing how taken aback he was her answer.

           “Human, I am asking as nicely as I can.” His tone thick with irritation, “What is your name?”

           The pressure to reply, after her clear indication of not wanting to answer and the stress of his sudden interest in her personal life angered her. She had been doing her best to be polite after the havoc there first interaction had caused but she had thought she had earned some respect from her. It seems she was wrong.

           She glared deeply at the doctor before reaching towards the cards and spelling out her final reply. “Fuck off.” As soon as she was sure he saw the final letter, she faded from view, not wanting to deal with the Monster any longer.

           For a short time she watched, seeing him react to her out lash. If he was upset, he hid it well as he gathered the cards and his supplies. It was only when he went to the laptop that displayed her lessons that he showed any reaction. Instead of starting it up to allow her to view them as normal, he instead shut down and closed the device, leaving it on the desktop in view after he left.

           It seemed childish to do so, but it did hurt her to see it done. Even as unsure of herself as she was with the signs, she stilled enjoyed having the activity of studying available to do. Seeing the device there, so easily accessible just showed how powerless she really was.

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[mastcomm]

Your Monday Briefing – The New York Times

More countries wall off China to contain coronavirus

The death toll from the new coronavirus has risen to more than 300 people, with more than 14,000 known infections worldwide. In the Philippines, a man who had recently arrived from the Chinese city of Wuhan, the epicenter of the outbreak, became the first recorded fatality outside of China. Some of the world’s leading experts now believe a pandemic — an ongoing epidemic on two or more continents — is nearly inevitable.

Many airlines have suspended service to China, and the Philippines, Australia, Indonesia, Vietnam and Singapore have joined the U.S. in temporarily barring most travelers from China. China’s vast economy and the global supply chains it feeds are fraying.

But some top officials in Southeast Asia, which has the largest cluster of coronavirus patients outside China, have dismissed the threat and even pushed remedies not supported by science.

Here’s the latest, and a map of infections.

How we got here: Public health experts say China initially put secrecy and order ahead of confronting the coronavirus. Reconstructing the first seven weeks of its spread, our reporters showed how the authorities silenced doctors and others for raising red flags and soft-pedaled the danger.

In Wuhan: A new hospital for those with the coronavirus, built in just 10 days, opens today. But most hospitals are swamped and the population of 11 million is struggling under quarantine. With many of the sick going untested and untreated because of circuitous bureaucracy and short supplies, the number of infected and dead could be significantly higher than reported.

Trump to give State of the Union address with acquittal near

The impeachment trial of President Trump is in its final days.

After the Senate voted on Friday to block new witnesses and evidence, a final vote on whether to convict the president is scheduled for Wednesday, a day after the State of the Union address.

A few Republicans have conceded that they believe Democrats proved their case that Mr. Trump tried to leverage security aid to Ukraine for political gain, but argue that doing so does not warrant removal from office. Acquittal is a near certainty.

The big picture: Mr. Trump, freed of worries about congressional constraint, will take his victory and “his case of grievance, persecution and resentment to the campaign trail,” our chief White House correspondent writes in an analysis. He will be the first president in U.S. history to face voters after an impeachment trial.

Democrats make last pitches in bellwether Iowa

Today brings the first contest in the race for the Democratic presidential nomination: the Iowa caucus, whose highly unpredictable outcome could reshape the field. It’s a complicated system. Here’s how it works.

Iowa has huge influence in picking presidential candidates, but the prairie state doesn’t look much like the country as a whole — except in its rapidly aging population.

On the ground: What began as a debate over policy and ideology has given way to a fixation on electability. Candidates have adjusted their final appeals to make the case that they represent the party’s best chance of beating Mr. Trump in November.

By the numbers: The latest polls show Bernie Sanders overtaking Joe Biden in Iowa, and closing in on his national lead. And here’s how much cash each 2020 Democratic candidate has on hand.

Brexit is over. And it’s only just begun.

It’s the start of a new era for Britain.

The country formally withdrew from the European Union on Friday after nearly half a century of membership, drawing a mixed reaction of celebration, despair and relief. The shape of its society and economy and its place in the world are all up for grabs.

Looking ahead: The positive case for Brexit — one where Britain strides into a future of economic renewal and cleareyed politics — will now be tested. The question is: What if it works?

In the E.U.: Many of the British officials who worked in Brussels are now out of a job, and some are racing to claim E.U. passports.

If you have 15 minutes, this is worth it

Misogyny at Victoria’s Secret

True to its name, the world’s lingerie powerhouse has kept a secret: that of a degrading work environment where, our reporters found, women were objectified and complaints of sexual harassment were buried.

Victoria’s Secret now says it is reforming itself, but its future is unclear in the #MeToo era.

Here’s what else is happening

Australian Open: Novak Djokovic prevailed in five sets against Dominic Thiem on Sunday to claim his 17th Grand Slam singles title and the No. 1 ranking.

Britain: A man in South London was shot dead by the police after three people were stabbed in what the authorities described as a “terrorist-related” incident.

In memoriam: Leila Janah, an activist and entrepreneur who employed thousands of desperately poor people in Africa and India in an effort to extend opportunity to the marginalized, died at 37 of a rare soft-tissue cancer.

Snapshot: Above, a yacht party in Tucacas, Venezuela, northwest of the capital. While much of the country is deteriorating, wealthy enclaves in Caracas are enjoying Prada and artisanal beer for the few.

Canada: Victoria, on the southern tip of Vancouver Island, has long marketed itself as Canada’s most English city. But its mayor has lately been trying to shake off the heritage of the British Empire — much like its newest and most famous residents, Prince Harry and his wife, Meghan.

What we’re listening to: The “Best Known Method” podcast. Our health reporter Anahad O’Connor welcomed its return for a second season. “Greatly enjoyed this discussion with Professor Emily Oster,” he tweeted, “especially now that I’m a dad and can benefit from her parenting insights.”

Now, a break from the news

Cook: Looking for a quick Monday dinner with minimal prep? Try lemony shrimp and bean stew.

Read: A collection by the poet Robert Hass is among 10 new books we recommend.

Go: A show at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York traces the history and cultural heritage of kingdoms on the Sahara’s rim.

Smarter Living: Our Social Q’s column offers advice to a woman who finds her husband’s nieces and nephews “unruly, unintelligent and uninteresting.”

And now for the Back Story on …

Britain’s big moment

The yearslong exit from the European Union happened at midnight Friday in Brussels, 11 p.m. in Britain itself. (Because of course they’re in different time zones.)

Our London correspondent Ben Mueller was on duty. “It felt a little anticlimactic,” he said. “There had been such fireworks, and then the legislation passed without contention.”

Alcohol was banned in Parliament Square for the big celebration, but vendors brought in beer. “They couldn’t do without it,” Ben said.

The immediate difference? “Britain no longer has representation or say in the machinery of the European Union.”

Many other aspects of the departure remain, to be resolved (or not) during a transition period that will end when 2020 does. Prime Minister Boris Johnson has already signaled a tough stand for trade talks that will begin in March.

Ben noted that even hopes to have the moment marked by a bong from Big Ben (no relation) were dashed. Westminster’s famed four-faced clock is under renovation, and speeding the process up to allow the bell to sound would have cost 500,000 pounds. Efforts to raise the money fell short and parliamentary authorities nixed the plan.

So a recording of Big Ben was played outside, and inside 10 Downing Street, Mr. Johnson banged a gong.

That’s it for this briefing. See you next time.

— Penn

Thank you To Mark Josephson and Eleanor Stanford for the break from the news. Andrea Kannapell, the Briefings editor, wrote today’s Back Story. You can reach the team at briefing@nytimes.com.

P.S. • We’re listening to “The Daily.” In our latest episode, The Times’s executive editor, Dean Baquet, discusses the lessons from our coverage of the 2016 presidential election. • Here’s our Mini Crossword, and a clue: “This doesn’t look good” (four letters). You can find all our puzzles here. • More than 200 readers responded to The Times’s call for stories about online dating in the Trump era.

from WordPress https://mastcomm.com/your-monday-briefing-the-new-york-times-8/

[initiateblog]

How to Become a Freelance Writer

Are you tired of living with your parents and ignoring emails from FedLoan? Have you been "Working on a Podcast" for two years now? When you tell people you're a writer, do your friends occasionally voice the realization that they've never actually read anything you've written?

Dude. Me too.

I've been a freelance writer for ten minutes now and nobody asked my opinion on this topic but that's only because they haven't had the chance. So if you're ready to hear some practical, ready-to-apply advice, read this post by experienced mommy blogger Elna Cain.

If you're stalling because you're afraid to put yourself out there emotionally and professionally, let's do this.

1. Write a bunch of fan fiction that no one will ever see.

Mimicking the voices of people who followed their dreams and succeeded is one of the best ways to start a bunch of stories that you'll never have to finish. It's also a great way to waste time on work you'd never be caught dead sending to a publisher unless your name is Stephenie Meyer, E. L. James, or Cassandra Clare.

You may even get a sick thrill from going back to your old stories and seeing that HexOnTheBeach09 is beside herself that you never wrote another chapter. She'll never know what happens after Luna Lovegood publicly declares her love for Dobby in order to show Ron and Hermione that it's not so hard to share your feelings. As the mysteriously MIA author, you may know exactly what hijinks would have ensued but, for Merlin's sake, don't upload that final chapter. You're too old for that baby stuff.

2. Post detailed analyses of popular movies and television on Facebook.

This is your chance to remind everyone from high school that your BA in screenwriting means that you're still destined for great things even though you currently do administrative work for your parents' medical practice. Your move to LA that you bragged about publicly may have fallen through after that miraculously-won meeting with that big-time tv producer ended up making you feel sexualized, objectified, and dejected. 

But the #metoo movement is coming for that guy and in the meantime, you can contemplate what it means to be a badass feminist who doesn't let a man get in the way of her dreams and goals.

3. Spend twenty minutes writing the perfect tweet, then delete it.

Any writer will tell you - Twitter is where you'll find jobs, it's where you can showcase your ability to get your point across succinctly, it's where presidents are made. Twitter is a necessity and there's nothing you can do about it so suck it up and shoot for at least five shareable nuggets of content a day and if that seems like a lot, then you clearly don't have anything to say.

If you're worried about making a mistake, don't. Nobody's actually reading your tweets. 

Follow me! @iamtheintiate.

4. Let your friends and family know what you're up to.

They may have a paid gig for you and you may be able to get a testimonial out of it but probably you've been trying so hard to look like you absolutely love your current life and job that they're going to be a little surprised you're asking them for help. That's ok. Push through. The more embarrassing it is to start a new life, the less likely it is that you'll chicken out down the road. And if nobody responds? ....Yeah, that sucks.

5. Develop a meditation habit.

Ok this one's a little complicated. If you were a child worshiper of the American Media Machine which told you your entire life that meditation is silly and spirituality is nuts, your journey to coming around to mindfulness techniques may have been a whole thing. Certain truths had to be learned, unlearned, and rearranged before you could become open to that kind of thing. I mean, everybody thinks that Cory always loved Topanga but he sure didn't show it until she stopped being all weird and new-agey. And Yoda was all about being open-minded until it came to having feelings. 

To sort out this mess, it helps to have a mother who doesn't question her spirituality for a minute. One day, she'll have a vision of an ancient goddess who tells her to bring you to Egypt. She'll drag you down the Nile with a group of astrologers and self-proclaimed shamans who do rituals at the ancient temples that are far outside your comfort level. You'll think your mother is insane and you'll hate her, hate her, HATE her for half the trip. Then one morning, you'll be sitting outside the Temple of Philae, watching the sun rising over the Nile. Long, moving shadows will drift across the hieroglyphs that were carefully carved into the wall behind you a thousand years before Jesus was born. You'll hear the Call to Prayer echoing over the water from a half a dozen mosques. Suddenly, you'll feel something deep in your soul...

A certain... connection. To something ...greater.

Eventually, many of the people you're traveling with will approach you individually and reveal that they used their meditation time to actively send you all their love and you'll have to admit that maybe they're not so crazy because you felt it.

So explore this side of yourself by downloading a meditation app like Insight Timer or Calm. It'll help with all the rejection and disappointment you're about to embark on but it'll also keep you focused and help you get to sleep at a reasonable time.

I love you, Mama.

5. Come up with a gimmick.

You can't do fake "How-To" articles. That's my thing now. I pissed all over this tree, nobody's ever done it before, and now it's mine. Find your own thing. 

6. Build a blog and/or website.

Is it the most beautiful blog and/or website you've ever seen in your whole life? Then you're not ready to put yourself out there yet. People need to see it and think, "What magic have I stumbled upon?! This person is the next Hamilton!" It should remind them of something treasured from their childhood that they forgot. It should bring back scent memory of their favorite lover. 

The longer you work on that website and/or blog, the less chance there is for you to try at something and fail, so feel free to take your sweet time.

Feel good?

I don't know about you, but I feel pumped. I'm totally ready to start thinking about considering getting started and I hope you are too. If you enjoyed this post, be sure to reblog it, tweet it, pin it, insta-it, snap it, reddit, and share it on Facebook. I'd ask you to send it to any paying employers you know, but I think we're all in the same boat here.

Love you.

[ohrenoir]

The decision to fall is harder than the fall itself. It is a joy to meet you. I don’t know how to feel about that. But already my repetitions are beginning. Do I confuse itch and ache? Here’s this helpful quiz to discover which it is, dedicated to a global team of heartbroken self-diagnosers that stretches from the threadbare social democracies in the north to the liberated markets in the west. The object of the song is love and the subject of the song is loss, or object and subject are genetically alike. This is how it sounds, the excavated voice, the archaeological dig one thousand or eight years into the future, when the bodies preserved in this auditory mud have become exemplary of their time and can no longer hurt or help each other. Then I will know how to love you and be loved by you. The song, the lover, is interested in objectifying itself, herself. The lover objectifies herself as music. The song is a prosthesis that extends like a limb into the gut and pulls out the half-digested heart, it’s kind of gothic and kind of a shame. I learn gratefully in music that the decision to fall is harder than the fall itself, the anticipation of falling; I’m embarrassed by gravity is what I mean by “I put on weight”. The parent and the lover momentarily blurring, then some kind of travel sickness, and later I am home without remembering what happened. It used to bother me that violence is as intimate as love, but I see that you have resolved that problem by dissolving the two each into the other. Whatever is important to hide must be important. Whatever is important to forget.
 Listen! I’m looking for a girl who stands 10 feet tall and has teeth like razors; I’m looking for a girl who could play the bored receptionist in the lobby of the afterlife, crossing the river of forgetting every morning and evening and back into the world of the living, where I will wait with flowers and an assortment of adult toys. Could this be you? I’m looking for a girl to affirm my reality, or cancel it. Me: I am beautifully dressed. I am a reflective surface. I am the president. Welcome to my body, my building, the border. The escalators only go up. You get down again by throwing yourself off the roof. And the song’s refrain there to catch you if you’re lucky. 

Listen! Sex is work, love is work, work is sex, work is love, the magical conversion of “is” given impossible power by its delivery in music. We have travelled together these minutes and years now and I am hopeful that we have finally solved this complicated problem of how to become… Even now at my age, preserved as an example in this perfect slab of ice, can you believe I am still waiting to become real? I had a plan for how sex or at least some kind of heartfelt physical intensity could save us but I threw it off the roof along with the body and it fell into the silence that limns the edge of the song. Inside the architecture of repetition that constitutes both a song and a life, taken objectively and not subjectively, there are resonances, assurances, bonds and securities. Sex and music stand guard over a shared silence under the noise, either because there is nothing or too much to say. It is still possible to negotiate between pain and pleasure, on the vanishing edges of pain and of pleasure, as if cutting a deal, the best deal, a beautiful deal. There are no simple binaries, and I don’t only mean gender, that’s old news; I mean that I am radiating and obsessed with the daydream hurt that I imagine your voice alone could cause me, now that I live in its zone, and I am too far gone to distinguish between sharpness and softness. 
 Baby, I hope one of us will hypnotise the other. Then the one less hypnotised will kill the other. Then after everyone is dead and we establish the scene, the next beginning, ending, beginning, ending. A pattern can only last its own forever and the song on repeat follows me around the city. The heart is the bloodiest organ and its rhythmic pacing and growling troubles the perception like movement at the edge of the vision mistaken for a creature. It is too early to fall in love, but all of history has happened and now there seems to be only the remainder to be arranged and rearranged. “We waited far too long.” It’s OK, everyone is here now.

Karin Dreijer

[freedomdelirium]

The decision to fall is harder than the fall itself.

It is a joy to meet you. I don’t know how to feel about that. But already my repetitions are beginning. Do I confuse itch and ache? Here’s this helpful quiz to discover which it is, dedicated to a global team of heartbroken self-diagnosers that stretches from the threadbare social democracies in the north to the liberated markets in the west. The object of the song is love and the subject of the song is loss, or object and subject are genetically alike. This is how it sounds, the excavated voice, the archaeological dig one thousand or eight years into the future, when the bodies preserved in this auditory mud have become exemplary of their time and can no longer hurt or help each other. Then I will know how to love you and be loved by you.

The song, the lover, is interested in objectifying itself, herself. The lover objectifies herself as music. The song is a prosthesis that extends like a limb into the gut and pulls out the half-digested heart, it’s kind of gothic and kind of a shame. I learn gratefully in music that the decision to fall is harder than the fall itself, the anticipation of falling; I’m embarrassed by gravity is what I mean by “I put on weight”. The parent and the lover momentarily blurring, then some kind of travel sickness, and later I am home without remembering what happened. It used to bother me that violence is as intimate as love, but I see that you have resolved that problem by dissolving the two each into the other. Whatever is important to hide must be important. Whatever is important to forget.


Listen! I’m looking for a girl who stands 10 feet tall and has teeth like razors; I’m looking for a girl who could play the bored receptionist in the lobby of the afterlife, crossing the river of forgetting every morning and evening and back into the world of the living, where I will wait with flowers and an assortment of adult toys. Could this be you? I’m looking for a girl to affirm my reality, or cancel it. Me: I am beautifully dressed. I am a reflective surface. I am the president. Welcome to my body, my building, the border. The escalators only go up. You get down again by throwing yourself off the roof. And the song’s refrain there to catch you if you’re lucky. 

Listen! Sex is work, love is work, work is sex, work is love, the magical conversion of “is” given impossible power by its delivery in music. We have travelled together these minutes and years now and I am hopeful that we have finally solved this complicated problem of how to become… Even now at my age, preserved as an example in this perfect slab of ice, can you believe I am still waiting to become real? I had a plan for how sex or at least some kind of heartfelt physical intensity could save us but I threw it off the roof along with the body and it fell into the silence that limns the edge of the song.

Inside the architecture of repetition that constitutes both a song and a life, taken objectively and not subjectively, there are resonances, assurances, bonds and securities. Sex and music stand guard over a shared silence under the noise, either because there is nothing or too much to say. It is still possible to negotiate between pain and pleasure, on the vanishing edges of pain and of pleasure, as if cutting a deal, the best deal, a beautiful deal. There are no simple binaries, and I don’t only mean gender, that’s old news; I mean that I am radiating and obsessed with the daydream hurt that I imagine your voice alone could cause me, now that I live in its zone, and I am too far gone to distinguish between sharpness and softness. 


Baby, I hope one of us will hypnotise the other. Then the one less hypnotised will kill the other. Then after everyone is dead and we establish the scene, the next beginning, ending, beginning, ending. A pattern can only last its own forever and the song on repeat follows me around the city. The heart is the bloodiest organ and its rhythmic pacing and growling troubles the perception like movement at the edge of the vision mistaken for a creature. It is too early to fall in love, but all of history has happened and now there seems to be only the remainder to be arranged and rearranged. “We waited far too long.” It’s OK, everyone is here now.

[nyxnyght]

About a Year Ago

A few weeks ago I stumbled across an entry I wrote in my google docs awhile back on the day after the election. Since the anniversary of that very infamous election is coming around, I wanted to post it. It’s hard to believe it has been an entire year. Trump has given those lacking in humanity a platform. Especially when it comes to racism and sexism. From a moral and political standpoint, I find his views and speech offensive and dangerous. However what really made me physically ill was when it became known that our sitting president was a sexual predator. As a young woman who has experienced both sexual harassment and assault from men, I was afraid.  The fact that a sexual predator could take the most powerful place in office was demoralizing and devastating to me. Those who supported him after the fact became people to be cautious of and even avoid. While Trump wasn’t directly involved in my life, I was surrounded by those who stuck by him until the end. That truly made me feel unsafe that the people I was supposed to trust gave a sexual predator power. 

In recent events, to be a woman in America is to feel disappointed, jaded, and disrespected. Cosmopolitan magazine mentioned in an article in the wake of Donald Trump winning the presidency that no matter how qualified you are or how hard you work, if you are a woman, a man as morally disgusting and unqualified can take the job or title you deserve. It is a rude awakening for a lot of women, but it is also a smack in the face for those who say sexism is dead. In light of the this election, sexism very much alive and thriving. The day after the tears of a rude awakening and heartbreaking disappointment, I went to my creative writing class which was my favorite class of the day. I love to write, but writing fiction is my passion. I like the way fiction gives me the ability to run away from my problems or take control of them. Through writing, I find my solace. However, this class period was not the analyzation of a short story or peer assessment of our own short stories. In light of the election, we had a gendered discussion. It was based off a story we had read where a man gawked at three young women as they trailed through the aisles of a grocery story. Personally, the story brought up uncomfortable memories for me. Sometimes the way men gawk and stare at me makes me want to hide. When it reaches 110 degrees in the central valley of Sacramento I still want to wear a sweatshirt and jeans. No matter how much I’ll sweat or how uncomfortable I’ll be because I don’t want men to gawk and look at me as if I’m something to eat. I want to hide. Being sexualized because of the body I was born into has been something that I find particularly frustrating and anxiety inducing. My professor decided to perform a fishbowl experiment, let the women run the conversation while the men had to listen. I took the opportunity to finally vent out my frustrations in hopes that some of the men in my class would understand their impact. I expressed my objections to being sexualized. I told the men that I resented that fact I was gawked at for showing my shoulders and while I am told to cover up, they are not told a thing. They can stare and even touch and it would still be my fault for showing the curves and body parts I was born into. Many of the women in class agreed with me and shared their own ideas and grievances. When the men were brought into our fishbowl they vehemently responded. It was their turn and they struck with a vengeance like anyone would if they were on the outside looking in. They claimed it was only natural and they didn’t want to feel bad for their instinct. They wanted to enjoy a woman’s beauty without having to feel guilty about it. In that moment I felt as if women were paintings. We were a beautiful object meant to be enjoyed by the opposite sex, I mean afterall it was only primal for them. Throughout my life, men justify their behavior as primal and instinctual; yet, in a civilized society,  primal and instinctual should not be an excuse for lude and aggressive behavior. Unfortunately, they are men and they write the rules. The class exploded between a battle of the sexes and they tried to turn it on the females. They pitied themselves over mean and horrible females who had stripped away their masculinity on social media. I was naturally disappointed in their retorts. I was not one of those females. I resented women who treated men so poorly and I resented women who begged for men to stare at them and whined for their attention. They made my case so much less valid. They were the excuse that my pain was invalid. It reminded me of the women who supported and voted for Trump. They made the struggles of so many women mean nothing; they made our cries invalid. Eventually, I was so frustrated by the conversation I asked the men in the classroom, “Have any of you ever been sexually assaulted?”  Some people sighed and said things like “Of course you’d go there” or “Here we go”. As if my hurt and pain and those of others who had been raped or assaulted was only an excuse. It was invalid. The more I reflect over that class period, the more I felt defeated as a woman. I’ve never carried such a burden in my heart that I couldn’t name. For the next two days after that class period, I’d felt depressed and I couldn’t pin point as to why. When women fight and argue and plead for equality, and when we raise our voice it is not taken seriously. When we stand up and shout it is as if we are fighting a brick wall. We are slamming our fragile flesh against rock. Our skin breaking and knuckles throbbing. To be a woman is to be objectified, sexualized. To be a woman is to be invalid.

[megairishrose]

Put a Patch on it chapter 1

Tara Cassidy entered the White Rabbit and tried not to wrinkle her nose in disgust. Could the Lost Boys have picked a seedier play to perform? There was a smell of drugs, both known and unknown. And a mass of people who looked like they had seen better days. Storybrooke Maine was a completely different world. And there she was, overdressed as usual.

She had a career. Image was everything in her line of work and her life in general. There she was, so far from New York City but she still looked like a page from a fashion magazine. Tara wore a pair of tight black jeans tucked into three inch boots with a white button down blouse while her black leather jacket completed the look. She wore what most would see as a lot of jewelry but to her, everything was important. Trinity knot studs in the top hole of her ear lobes while Saint Brigid crosses hung from the bottom ones. Her hands had one ring each, a Claddagh and then her wedding band. She had a Celtic cross on a thin chain around her neck and the newest addition was a Saint Patrick medal. Tara tried not to think about why she was wearing it and not the actual owner.

Tara pulled out her IPhone from her small clutch to check the time. Showtime was in fifteen minutes. What was she going to do until then?

Drinking was out of the question. Tara had drunk enough and cried enough in the past few days to last a lifetime. Hence the large sunglasses on her nose. Nevertheless, she took a seat at the bar and ordered a rum and coke, minus the rum. She needed something sweet to balance the numbness of the past few days. Her blue eyes scanned the stage. She was going to be able to see him but with the crowd, he was not going to see her. Tara was very sure she was the last person he ever expected to see.

Tara ended up going through pictures on her phone to pass the time. Her husband Neal as he blew out the candles on his birthday cake. Their seven-year-old daughter Sophia playing catch with Marbles, their dog. Tara's older brother Liam and his fiancé Roxanne at their engagement party a few years back. The siblings with their father at the last Christmas before his death. Their father had called them the Three Musketeers; it had been their nickname since childhood. The three of them: Liam, Tara and Killian.

Kilian was the only family member missing from the recent pictures. When was the last time she saw him, two years ago? No, it was three years ago. Not since he took up with that woman and walked out of their family.

That had left Liam and Tara to run their multi-billion-dollar company. The Jewel of the World was the second largest shipping company on the eastern seaboard. Their two-times great grandfather Patrick had started it with two ships and a dream he had brought over from Ireland.

It had been a family owned and operated ever since. In the lobby were pictures of the company's presidents: Patrick, George, Donald their grandfather, their father Michael and lastly, Liam, Tara, and Killian. That had been an emotional day, when that piece of art went up.

"I bet you have amazing eyes under those shades and a beautiful body under those clothes," said a very drunk voice next to her.

Seriously, it wasn't even nine o'clock and already someone was three sheets to the wind. Well, Tara really couldn't judge, there had been a time in her life when that had been normal.

Tara didn't bother turning to face whomever. "Even if my eyes were blood shot?" She was very sure they were red and with good reason.

"Come one honey, one look." He just kept going. Tara resisted the urge to slam him into the bar or pull the small knife out of her clutch. Yes, she carried a weapon with her; it was a security blanket for her. But she had to lay low tonight; she couldn't draw attention to herself.

"I really suggest you find someone who doesn't think you are a worthless piece of shit." Tara told him, not wanting to waste her time.

He finally got the hint, thankfully and stepped back. Tara was very sure she heard him mutter "bitch" under his breath. Whatever, she had been called worse.

The lights finally dimmed and the lights on the stage turned on.

For some reason Tara began to listen in on a conversation next to her from a small group of women. They looked like bored housewives who just wanted to let loose and have a good time.

"Thank God it's finally show time. I plan on catching the scarf tonight." One of them said, adjusting the neckline on her already low cut top.

"You know what happens when you catch it? You get to go back to the dressing room or as he calls it, the Captain's Cabin, with Killian for some private pirate time." There was a giggle through the group.

"I heard he is as good in bed as he is good looking. He is not one to disappoint"

Tara closed her eyes, wishing to all the saints they hadn't been objectifying her little brother like that. Or maybe that's how he viewed them. "Can I get a shot of rum in this?" She asked the bartender.

He quickly poured a generous amount in the tumbler. "You look like you need this." He commented.

"You have no idea. Thank you." Tara's Irish accent came to the surface slightly. Although none of the siblings had been born in Ireland, they traveled there yearly, had close friends over there and fluently spoke Gaelic. Plus, they had been mostly raised by their paternal grandmother, who had a thick accent. Now there were words and situations when she sounded very Irish. Grandma Sophia had passed away three years after Tara's wedding. Hence Tara had named her daughter, Sophia Kathleen, after the two most important women in her life. Kathleen was her mother who passed away when Tara was five.

Her attention was brought back to reality and to the stage where the band finally appeared. She only knew the names of one of the band members. William Smee attended college with Kilian. He had majored in music while Killian studied business.

And the screaming intensified when Killian himself took the stage.

Tara actually choked on her drink. What the bloody hell was he thinking? But there he was, in all his rock star glory. Dressed in all black leather and… was he wearing eye liner? And around his neck was the scarf the women had mentioned.

Tara and Killian could have passed as twins. Liam had a stronger build from playing football in high school and college. Tara and Killian had the same blue eyes, same black hair and the same body structure.

"Ahoy mates! Who's ready for a show?" He called out to the crowd who enthusiastically cheered back. Was he trying to make his accent more pronounced?

The show began and not even three songs in, Tara was very sure she was going to be deaf by the end of the night. But she did not move from her seat and tried not to lose herself in the atmosphere of the tiny club. She and Killian both had a background in music, but it was a long time ago, back in high school actually. Everything about this situation hurt. Recently, Killian and Tara were not on speaking terms, besides the occasional phone just to prove he wasn't dead, they had no contact. She took a larger sip of her drink when the lyrics to the song threatened to come out of her mouth.

It was almost midnight by the time the show began to wind down. Killian threw his scarf into the crowd and it was caught by the woman who had made it her mission to catch it. Was it really an invite to go back to his dressing room? By the look in his eyes, it most certainly was.

Tara rolled her eyes. She hated to ruin his night… no wait, she didn't. She needed her brother more than that woman ever did. As the crowd began to leave, Tara stood up and opened her clutch to pay for her drink but the bartender stopped her.

"It's on the house."

She gave him a tiny smile, her first one in days actually. "Thank you." She headed to the stage but stopped when she heard Killian talking to the woman.

"Just give me twenty minutes, love. I'm heading to the diner to meet a few friends. Make yourself comfortable in my dressing room."

Tara could just picture the girl pouting. Then she heard kissing noises. "Just don't forget about me." The woman almost purred.

"After that kiss, I doubt I would." Killian told her, he took her hand and kissed it. He still had a bit of his good form from his childhood. Then he headed to the exit.

The diner, good thing Storybrooke was tiny and had only one diner. How could Killian stand to live here when New York City offered the world?

Tara ran as fast as she could, good thing she had a basic idea where the diner was. She thankfully made it there before he did. Tara slid into a booth and ordered a coffee. If she drank coffee, she wouldn't sleep. Exactly what she needed, not sleeping would mean no dreams.

Not even five minutes later, Killian came bursting through the door. He was merrily greeted by what seemed like the entire diner. Tara picked up a discarded newspaper to hide her face. Right now, with all these people, did not seem like a good time.

He was joking and laughing with his friends and he knew there was a beautiful but desperate woman waiting for him back in his dressing room. Little did he know, his life was going to come tumbling down, thanks to his sister.

Killian left his friends to talk to a blonde and the waitress at the counter. Though whenever he spoke, it always came out as flirting. He couldn't talk like a normal person, at least not when it came to women. The blonde seemed to know better or just not be interested and walked away. The waitress, on the other hand, obviously knew who he was and demanded an autograph. And she pulled down the neckline and Killian only obliged.

Then an elderly woman came from out from the kitchen to yell at Killian. He only offered her the same courtesy.

For Tara, that was the last straw.

[mastcomm]

Your Monday Briefing – The New York Times

More countries wall off China to contain coronavirus

The death toll from the new coronavirus has risen to more than 300 people, with more than 14,000 known infections worldwide. In the Philippines, a man who had recently arrived from the Chinese city of Wuhan, the epicenter of the outbreak, became the first recorded fatality outside of China. Some of the world’s leading experts now believe a pandemic — an ongoing epidemic on two or more continents — is nearly inevitable.

Many airlines have suspended service to China, and the Philippines, Australia, Indonesia, Vietnam and Singapore have joined the U.S. in temporarily barring most travelers from China. China’s vast economy and the global supply chains it feeds are fraying.

But some top officials in Southeast Asia, which has the largest cluster of coronavirus patients outside China, have dismissed the threat and even pushed remedies not supported by science.

Here’s the latest, and a map of infections.

How we got here: Public health experts say China initially put secrecy and order ahead of confronting the coronavirus. Reconstructing the first seven weeks of its spread, our reporters showed how the authorities silenced doctors and others for raising red flags and soft-pedaled the danger.

In Wuhan: A new hospital for those with the coronavirus, built in just 10 days, opens today. But most hospitals are swamped and the population of 11 million is struggling under quarantine. With many of the sick going untested and untreated because of circuitous bureaucracy and short supplies, the number of infected and dead could be significantly higher than reported.

Trump to give State of the Union address with acquittal near

The impeachment trial of President Trump is in its final days.

After the Senate voted on Friday to block new witnesses and evidence, a final vote on whether to convict the president is scheduled for Wednesday, a day after the State of the Union address.

A few Republicans have conceded that they believe Democrats proved their case that Mr. Trump tried to leverage security aid to Ukraine for political gain, but argue that doing so does not warrant removal from office. Acquittal is a near certainty.

The big picture: Mr. Trump, freed of worries about congressional constraint, will take his victory and “his case of grievance, persecution and resentment to the campaign trail,” our chief White House correspondent writes in an analysis. He will be the first president in U.S. history to face voters after an impeachment trial.

Democrats make last pitches in bellwether Iowa

Today brings the first contest in the race for the Democratic presidential nomination: the Iowa caucus, whose highly unpredictable outcome could reshape the field. It’s a complicated system. Here’s how it works.

Iowa has huge influence in picking presidential candidates, but the prairie state doesn’t look much like the country as a whole — except in its rapidly aging population.

On the ground: What began as a debate over policy and ideology has given way to a fixation on electability. Candidates have adjusted their final appeals to make the case that they represent the party’s best chance of beating Mr. Trump in November.

By the numbers: The latest polls show Bernie Sanders overtaking Joe Biden in Iowa, and closing in on his national lead. And here’s how much cash each 2020 Democratic candidate has on hand.

Brexit is over. And it’s only just begun.

It’s the start of a new era for Britain.

The country formally withdrew from the European Union on Friday after nearly half a century of membership, drawing a mixed reaction of celebration, despair and relief. The shape of its society and economy and its place in the world are all up for grabs.

Looking ahead: The positive case for Brexit — one where Britain strides into a future of economic renewal and cleareyed politics — will now be tested. The question is: What if it works?

In the E.U.: Many of the British officials who worked in Brussels are now out of a job, and some are racing to claim E.U. passports.

If you have 15 minutes, this is worth it

Misogyny at Victoria’s Secret

True to its name, the world’s lingerie powerhouse has kept a secret: that of a degrading work environment where, our reporters found, women were objectified and complaints of sexual harassment were buried.

Victoria’s Secret now says it is reforming itself, but its future is unclear in the #MeToo era.

Here’s what else is happening

Australian Open: Novak Djokovic prevailed in five sets against Dominic Thiem on Sunday to claim his 17th Grand Slam singles title and the No. 1 ranking.

Britain: A man in South London was shot dead by the police after three people were stabbed in what the authorities described as a “terrorist-related” incident.

In memoriam: Leila Janah, an activist and entrepreneur who employed thousands of desperately poor people in Africa and India in an effort to extend opportunity to the marginalized, died at 37 of a rare soft-tissue cancer.

Snapshot: Above, a yacht party in Tucacas, Venezuela, northwest of the capital. While much of the country is deteriorating, wealthy enclaves in Caracas are enjoying Prada and artisanal beer for the few.

Canada: Victoria, on the southern tip of Vancouver Island, has long marketed itself as Canada’s most English city. But its mayor has lately been trying to shake off the heritage of the British Empire — much like its newest and most famous residents, Prince Harry and his wife, Meghan.

What we’re listening to: The “Best Known Method” podcast. Our health reporter Anahad O’Connor welcomed its return for a second season. “Greatly enjoyed this discussion with Professor Emily Oster,” he tweeted, “especially now that I’m a dad and can benefit from her parenting insights.”

Now, a break from the news

Cook: Looking for a quick Monday dinner with minimal prep? Try lemony shrimp and bean stew.

Read: A collection by the poet Robert Hass is among 10 new books we recommend.

Go: A show at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York traces the history and cultural heritage of kingdoms on the Sahara’s rim.

Smarter Living: Our Social Q’s column offers advice to a woman who finds her husband’s nieces and nephews “unruly, unintelligent and uninteresting.”

And now for the Back Story on …

Britain’s big moment

The yearslong exit from the European Union happened at midnight Friday in Brussels, 11 p.m. in Britain itself. (Because of course they’re in different time zones.)

Our London correspondent Ben Mueller was on duty. “It felt a little anticlimactic,” he said. “There had been such fireworks, and then the legislation passed without contention.”

Alcohol was banned in Parliament Square for the big celebration, but vendors brought in beer. “They couldn’t do without it,” Ben said.

The immediate difference? “Britain no longer has representation or say in the machinery of the European Union.”

Many other aspects of the departure remain, to be resolved (or not) during a transition period that will end when 2020 does. Prime Minister Boris Johnson has already signaled a tough stand for trade talks that will begin in March.

Ben noted that even hopes to have the moment marked by a bong from Big Ben (no relation) were dashed. Westminster’s famed four-faced clock is under renovation, and speeding the process up to allow the bell to sound would have cost 500,000 pounds. Efforts to raise the money fell short and parliamentary authorities nixed the plan.

So a recording of Big Ben was played outside, and inside 10 Downing Street, Mr. Johnson banged a gong.

That’s it for this briefing. See you next time.

— Penn

Thank you To Mark Josephson and Eleanor Stanford for the break from the news. Andrea Kannapell, the Briefings editor, wrote today’s Back Story. You can reach the team at briefing@nytimes.com.

P.S. • We’re listening to “The Daily.” In our latest episode, The Times’s executive editor, Dean Baquet, discusses the lessons from our coverage of the 2016 presidential election. • Here’s our Mini Crossword, and a clue: “This doesn’t look good” (four letters). You can find all our puzzles here. • More than 200 readers responded to The Times’s call for stories about online dating in the Trump era.

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