#that I just interpret gibberish automatically

[cesium-sheep]

dream about the type of used bookstore that encourages buying a whole cartload and also has some of the books just piled in carts so I was meticulously going through them all. it was fun.

[thetypedwriter]

Imaginary Friend Book Review

Imaginary Friend by Stephen Chbosky Book Review 

This is undoubtedly the weirdest book I have ever read. 

You might be thinking… but, thetypedwriter you read fanfiction! This can’t be the weirdest thing you’ve ever read! Things like ABO universes exist!

You would think that, wouldn’t you?

But no. 

I shall endeavor to give you a spoiler free synopsis of the book first followed by my thoughts and criticism, but note that this is an endeavor for a reason. I have now explained this novel in depth to two different people, and both times I have found myself completely and irrevocably stuck on how to even begin, let alone end. 

With that forewarning, here we go. 

The novel surrounds a single mother and her young son moving to a small Pennsylvania town in order to escape the tragedies of their past that include the passing of her husband and her current abusive boyfriend. 

However, while things in their new home start out well-they find solutions to unemployment, poverty, the son’s dyslexia, etc, things start to go awry when Christopher, the son, is lured into the Mission Street Woods at the edge of town by a voice only he seems to be able to hear. 

As Christopher continues to listen to the voice in the form of a cloud, or a plastic bag, or even inside of his mind, he starts recruiting his friends to build a treehouse in the woods that will transport him to a different time and place. The voice, lovingly called the Nice Man, instructs him to finish the tree house by Christmas Day. 

Or else everyone will die. 

As Christopher struggles with newfound powers and responsibilities, coping with two different worlds, his mother struggles with her son’s sanity, the town struggles with anger, blame, and temptation, and what follows is the chaotic descent of a small town into the throes of good versus evil, love and loss, and most importantly, trying to differentiate what is real versus what is imaginary. 

In the simplest terms possible (a facetious statement if there ever was one), I thought this was going to be a thriller mystery book about a single mother and her young seven-year-old son Christopher leaving their home and her abhorrent abusive boyfriend in order to start a new life with hope and potential. 

And it….is? 

But it doesn’t stop there. Chbosky crams so many genres, themes, motifs, and messages into this book that when you think about it, it’s unsurprising that it’s over 700 pages long with the tiniest, most miniscule font I have ever had to squint at. 

However, make no mistakes like I did, this book is horror. 

Yup. You read that right folks, horror. 

To preface, and I might have mentioned this in another post for another book at some point, but I vehemently dislike horror of any kind. This extends to books, movies, shows, etc. 

I understand that horror is a great joy and pleasure for a vast amount of people and that it contains its own literary merit, tropes, and rules, and I can appreciate that for what it is from afar, but I personally take very little enjoyment from consuming anything horror related (I apologize to all the Stephen King fans out there in the world). 

I did not fully realize the extent to which this book was a true horror. 

This is entirely my own fault. I was very much blinded by the rosy colored glasses from college when I first read The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Chbosky’s first and only other novel. 

Perks is wonderful. It is a tragic, yet fundamentally hopeful and loving bildungsroman that shows the beauty and the pain of growing up and accepting yourself. The movie with Emma Watson is what dreams are made of. 

I committed author fraud when I picked up Imaginary Friend based on the pure speculation that I would most likely like it since he had written Perks, a book I adored as both a reader and a teacher. 

I’ve warned readers against this in the past, but it seems like I should have taken my own advice: just because an author has written one good book or one book you like, does not automatically mean you will like their second book, or any of their other books for that matter. 

This cannot possibly ring more true for Stephen Chbosky, as not only are his two books completely different in narrative and structure, but also vastly different in genre and purpose. 

I should have stuck with my gut and realized that I probably wouldn’t like this book based off the synopsis, the genre, and yes, even the cover (it looks scary to me, okay?), but I said noooooo, it’s Chbosky, you have to read it!

And this is where we ended up. 

First of all, I didn’t hate the book. 

I can recognize that it is extremely well written, well crafted, and well developed. I can enjoy a slew of characters, and oh boy are there a multitude to pick from, and I can give credit where credit is due. 

Chbosky is a talented writer. There is no doubt in my mind about this. The way he crafts words, the way he plays with texture and space, and with fonts and sizes, is nothing less of sheer brilliance. 

He undoubtedly is also masterful at motifs, foreshadowing, and symbolism. Notably, there were so many recurring objects, colors, metaphors, and so on that were sprinkled out so consecutively and intentionally throughout the novel-some I didn’t even pick up until the end-that I was left reeling from how immensely talented and brilliant he is. 

Things like his use of baby teeth, blue moon, and fogs/clouds/mist struck me in particular. I know this seems like gibberish, but Chbosky truly came across as understanding what he wanted to portray and how he wanted to deliver it. 

However, the biggest compliment I can give to Chbosky is the sheer magnitude of his imagination and creativity. This book almost overwhelmed me through the use of ideas and concepts I had never really thought of before. 

Alternate dimensions? Check. 

Supernatural powers? Check. 

Incredible use of diction and figurative language? Check and check. 

Chbosky had so many wild and tantalizing beautiful turns of phrases, expressions, and descriptions that it left me with the same sort of gasping epiphany that Maggie Steifvater’s writing always leaves me with, the feelings that writing can be so utterly beautiful and compelling, that it can be all-consuming as well as never ending with its potential to stun, to create, and to warp to unique needs and purposes. 

It definitely was a reading experience quite like any other I’ve had. 

Be that because of the horror genre or because of Chbosky’s odd, yet addicting writing style and this has definitely become a book that left me more than a bit dumbfounded. Although I’ve sung its praises and admitted to my own faults at this point, this book isn’t without flaws. 

To me the horror genre itself is just not my cup of tea like I’ve stated. Strike number one. 

Second, the book was...abysmally long. Atrociously long. As I’ve also said before, I do not mind large books. In fact, big books when you’re reading something you love is a true blessing. Finding that fanfiction at 3am that hooks you immediately and you look up to see its 300k? Amazing. 

Starting a new book series that you fall in love with body and soul and realize you have several installments left in the series to gorge and devour? Ecstasy. 

Sloughing through a single book that starts to drag on and on repetitiously for what seems like forever? Borderline hell. 

This book could have been 300 pages shorter and still contained everything Chbosky wanted to accomplish. It could have had the same brilliant writing, messages, and motifs, but without all of the never-ending back and forth between worlds and battles that just kept popping up time and time again. The abominable length considering its content is strike two. 

Last, the ending was a bit of a cluster. At this point in the novel, so much is going on, you are being exposed to so many pov’s that it’s almost stress-inducing, and events taking place are cataclysmic and 10/10 on drama. Chbosky bit off more than he could chew here. 

The book choked itself at the end, which, after reading for 700 pages is not the feeling you want to have. The ending left me befuddled, disappointed, and also bereft of a conclusive end and explanation for the shitstorm that had just rained down. It was not the ending I wanted, could understand, or could even really grasp. Strike three. 

This book has a plethora of merits followed by three enormous criticisms. If you like horror, then you’ve already crossed hurdle number one. If you can accept it’s repellant length (let alone have days upon days of free time to actually ingest said behemoth) then that’s hurdle number two. 

Hurdle three is up to you. Perhaps you would like the ending where as I found it lacking in structure, content, and answers. I like my endings tied up with neat little bows. I don’t like to be left thinking...hmmmm what does this mean? 

If I am going to read your massive book, I deserve an ending that satisfies the journey. Authors telling readers that it’s up for interpretation makes me want to strangle something. It comes across as enormously pretentious to me and oftentimes lazy. 

In the case of Chbosky, I think he had given himself so many loose threads that the neat little bow I desired was next to impossible. 

So he didn’t even try. 

Score: 6/10

Recommendation: If you love The Shining, are lacking bouts of creativity and imagination, have lots of free time during Quarantine, and don’t mind having an Inception-esque ending where you might not get all the answers you want, while being tasked with concocting it for yourself, Imaginary Friend might be your new best friend. 

Bonus: Here’s a pic of my kitty photo bombing this book shoot. Hope she brightens your day!

[taetaespeaches]

I really want read some scenario that y/n is a doctor or student at a medicine college :(( pleaaase can be with anyone

Moodboard by @la-vie-en-tae

“So that’s the part of your brain that makes your heart race when you see me?”

Jimin x MedStudent!Reader

Word count: 2.7K

a/n: Here you go sweets! Sorry it took me ages, but I hope you enjoy. Medical stuff is way over my head so I did as simple as I could think, and that one day you said you were studying the brain sooooo yeah. The brain is complicated though, damn. Oh and I chose Jimin just because.

Gibberish. A textbook full of nonsense. At least that’s how it appeared to you after hours of your day were spent reading, highlighting, scribbling notes, and trying to hold back from screaming, or crying, or both, your well-being teetering on the edge of a mental breakdown. The words on the page were no longer forming coherent sentences, but were rather just random letters pulled from a hat, stuck together, pretending to hold actual meaning.

Flicking your pen back and forth as you held it between your pointer finger and thumb, rereading the supposed sentence for the fifth time in a row, still with zero consciousness of what the fuck it said, the writing utensil suddenly soared out of your grip, slamming against the window across the room, falling somewhere behind the loveseat that sat in front of the window.

With a deep breath in, you clenched your jaw, exhaling in a loud groan.

At the sound of your vocalized stress, Jimin raised his eyebrows, looking towards the living room from where he stood in the kitchen, his fingers gripping the end of a teabag, dunking it in and out of the scolding water. Craning his head to get a better view, he just barely caught a glimpse of you, bending over the back of the loveseat, ass up in the air as your arm fished around behind the furniture.

Jimin’s lips quirked upwards into a small smirk as he discarded the tea bags, lifting both mugs, carrying them to the living room. Setting the mugs onto the coffee table, he bit his bottom lip, his eyes glued to you. “You’re such a tease,” he flirted, breaking the silence in the room, pushing his hair back as he sported a stunning smile.

Snapping your head up, you shot a glare at him, warning him you were not in the mood. Your boyfriend quickly took notice of your current mood, and with the pieces of paper scattered across the coffee table, pens and highlighters strewn across open text books, he easily gathered that the studying must have crashed and burned in the few minutes he was out of the room preparing tea. “Dear,” he pouted. “What are you doing?”

“I lost my pen,” you said plainly, no explanation. Jimin had to hold back a chuckle that threatened to surface at your cute mad expression, eyes squinted, eyebrows pulled together.

Looking past you, Jimin pointed to the loveseat. “Behind there?” He asked, confusion setting into his features. You nodded, turning back to continue looking. “How did it get back there?” Jimin curiously approached you, standing at your side, peering over the back of the sofa.

With a huff, you sat back, crossing your arms over your chest. “I threw it.” Jimin raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Not on purpose,” you clarified.

“Dear,” he held his hand out to you, waiting expectantly for you to take it. “Come on,” he gestured to his hand with a nod of his hand. Staring at him stubbornly, he sighed. “You have about five more pens over there,” he gestured to your messy study area with a nod of his head, though he kept his eyes on you. With a huff, you placed your hand in his, allowing him to gently lead you off the loveseat, only to plant himself right in the very spot you just stood. “Here, sit down,” he tugged on you, gesturing to the floor with a nod of his head.

Cocking your head at him, he smiled brightly. “Trust me, calm on,” he told you with a small giggle. Swiping your tongue along the inside of your cheek, you held back a smile, though the corners of your lips did curve upwards just the slightest bit, which did not go unnoticed by your boyfriend.

“What are you doing?” You asked suspiciously. “I don’t have time for any funny business.” The feigned scold in your voice had Jimin fake scoffing.

“Yeah you wish,” he teased, and you could hear the smile in his voice, which in turn made you smile just for a brief moment before you remembered your studies and how little you were understanding them. Sitting down, you scooted towards Jimin until your back hit the sofa, your biceps cradled by your boyfriend’s toned thighs. “So, the brain,” Jimin started, his hands soothing over your upper back and shoulders. “Tell me about it.”

You attempted to look up at your boyfriend, however, his hands positioned themselves on the sides of your head, keeping it in place. “What are you talking about?” You let out a confused giggle.

“We’re studying,” he told you. “What part of the brain is this?” As Jimin’s fingers dug into your strands and massaged your head just behind your temples, you couldn’t help the small moan of relief that left your lips.

“What do you mean?” You asked, your eyes fluttering shut at his touch.

“What part of the brain is this? What is it called?” He asked again, a small smile on his lips, his tone gentle and soothing.

You hummed at the sensation. “That’s my skull though,” you teased, leaning into the pressure his fingers were applying to the spot.

“Ok, Smartie, you know what I mean,” he giggled. “I’m trying to help, play along.”

A small breathy laugh left your lips, Jimin’s thigh nudging against your arm in protest of your defiance to humor him. “It’s the temporal lobe,” you informed him, leaning your head back against his lap.

Your boyfriend hummed in thought. “What does the temporal lobe do?” His fingers continued working in that spot for a moment as you responded.

“Auditory perception,” you groaned out.

“So sounds?” He inquired, seemingly genuinely interested as his palms flattened against your head, touching a much bigger expanse of your head.  

“Perceiving sounds, where our brains detect vibrations and receive and interpret information,” you explained in a light voice, your tone showing your distraction. “But yeah, sounds.”

“See you’re so smart, you know this stuff,” Jimin said cheerily, leaning down to kiss the top of your head sweetly. Leaning back so the back of your head sat fully in his lap, your eyelids flickered open, your eyes meeting Jimin’s sparkling ones.

“Honey, it’s not that simple,” you frowned at him, “It’s not just simply anatomy, the brain is so complicated.”

Jimin’s lips spread into a smile as he spoke the words, “Believe in yourself,” in an amazingly assuring tone that had your heart skipping a beat. It wasn’t just any smile. It was the kind of smile that stunned you, opened up your heart and filled it with love and confidence. You could see the confidence he had in you, making you feel the belief in yourself that he had for you.

Believe in yourself. You could take that as simply naivety. A lack of understanding of the complexity of the material you were studying. But you knew it wasn’t Jimin being naive. He truly believed in your capabilities and your mind. Those three words were strung together in such a way to comfort you. To assure you. And the way he spoke them and continued to look at you with that smile, holding all the warmth that existed in his big heart.

You smiled up at him, not because your stress was gone, but because of him. You had him. Jimin’s smile grew even more, his eyes disappearing into crescents, shaking his head as he bent over, leaning down to place his lips on yours in a happy, toothy meeting. The kiss didn’t last long before you both couldn’t hold back your expressions of happiness, grins and laughs taking over, leaving you both to look at each other fondly before Jimin straightened his back, looking down at you. He placed his hands at the sides of your head to shift it forward, his hands traveling down the sides of your neck.

“What part of the brain is this?” He asked with a stupid grin, his finger massaging the back of your neck.

“That’s my neck,” you giggled, “It’s not part of the brain.”

“Isn’t it related to the brain?” He asked curiously.

Giggling, you nodded. “The spinal cord and the brain make up the central nervous system, yes. The spinal cord attaches to the brain stem. But it’s not part of the brain,” you giggled as Jimin shushed you.

“You knew what I meant,” he whined out with a smile that you could hear. “What does the brain stem do?”

You let out a small groan at his hands massaging along your neck. “It connects the cerebrum and the cerebellum to the spinal cord. It performs a lot of our automatics functions like breathing, wake and sleep cycles, heart rate,” you spoke as Jimin hummed along.

“Your heart rate? So that’s the part of your brain that makes your heart race when you see me?” He teased, an adorable proud giggle leaving his lips.

“Jesus Christ,” you giggled. “You’re the worst,” you told him with a fond smile.

Jimin laughed more as his hands traveled to your shoulders, gently massaging the area, trying to work out the tension. “And what part of the brain is this?”  He stupidly asked as he worked your shoulders and upper back muscles.

Giggling, you shrugged him off, however he didn’t budge, his hands still working at the tension. “The shoulders aren’t part of the brain,” you grinned at his silliness.

“See,” he leaned down to your ear, leaving a kiss to the shell of it. “You know your anatomy,” he whispered, his hands traveling down to your sides, his fingers ghosting over the material of your t-shirt. “I think you can afford a little break.” You immediately shook your head in protest, however, Jimin quickly leaned over, attaching his lips to your forehead in a sweet kiss. “What part of the brain is the forehead?” He giggled against your skin as you tried to pull your head out of his grasp, only for him to leave his spot on the sofa to crawl onto you, tackling you to the floor, peppering kisses all across your face. He continued his actions even as you squealed and pushed against his chest, uncontrollable laughter rolling out of your mouth.

Caging your body between his arms, he hovered slightly above you, his breath fanning your face. Jimin’s eyes flickered to your lips just in time to catch you in a big yawn. “Sleepy, Dear?”

You widened your eyes at his question, responding with, “Who? Me? Nuh uh,” as you shook your head in protest.

“Hmm, your brain stem is telling me otherwise,” he grinned at you as you burst into laughter at his silly remark. Threading your fingers into his hair at the back of his head, you pulled him into a kiss. Breaking away for a moment, he mumbled, “Did I get that right?” against your lips.

“Shut up, you dork,” you laughed against his mouth before working your lips against his again.

Pulling away again with a stunning grin on his face, he said, “you know, because the brain stem controls sleep cyc–” you pulled him to you again, whispering a shush against his mouth. As you kissed, Jimin’s hands started traveling down your body, sneaking under the material of your baggy t-shirt, gripping onto the flesh of your newly exposed hip. “Wait, wait,” Jimin pulled away again, causing you to groan in frustration. “Are you sure you don’t want to take a nap?” Your facial expression morphed into one of disbelief at his comment.

“Jimin, you’re on top of me, and I’m making out with your face. You really want me to take a fucking nap right now?” Jimin’s eyes widened in sudden realization.

“No-no-no-no-no,” he quickly spoke, leaning down to peck your lips a few times. “I was just being considerate, I’m good with this. Actually, I even read somewhere that breaks are good for your brain. Fifteen minutes are ideal, unless of course, you feel you need longer,” he pecked your bottom lip as it curved into a smile at his lesson about breaks. “And I’m pretty sure this is all legit,” he assured you, his eyes wide and serious.

Letting out a breathy laugh at your boyfriend’s expression, you nodded. “I believe you.” Smiling, he leaned down, biting his bottom lip as his eyes scanned your face.

“You’re mine for 15 minutes,” he murmured as he attached his mouth to yours, his actions carrying more intention and heat than before. You both got carried away, Jimin’s hands moving up your abdomen, his fingers grazing across your top rib, sending shivers all along your skin. One of your hands found Jimin’s lower back while the other was connected to the side of his neck, occasionally tugging on strands of soft hair. Your opposite hand traveled from the small of his back to the waist of his lounge shorts, your fingers slipping underneath the elastic, your fingers brushing along the top curve of his ass.

Jimin placed a hand on your chin, turning it to the side as he trailed wet kisses along your neck. With your eyes shut, you dug your fingers into the strands at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to your skin. Your mouth parted in response to the sensation on your sensitive neck, eyes flickering open only to take notice of the couch that was a mere six inches from your face. Just as you let out a small moan, encouraging your boyfriend’s actions, your orbs starting to flutter shut in pleasure until something caught your eye underneath the sofa.

Squinting at the object curiously, Jimin moved towards your jaw, trailing back to your lips. Just as his mouth found yours again, you gasped in surprise. “My pen,” you said, almost in disbelief, reaching your arm underneath the loveseat as Jimin’s weight on top of yours restricted your range of motion. Jimin’s face contorted into an expression of confusion as he watched you try to reach further under the furniture.  

With a groan as you stretched your arm out, a mumbled “what are you doing?” rolled off your boyfriend’s tongue, a slight annoyance in his tone.

“Ah,” you exclaimed happily. Pulling your arm out, you held your hand in front of Jimin’s face, showing him the pen. “My pen,” you smiled widely.

With his eyebrows scrunched, Jimin looked from the pen to your face, back to the pen, and back to your face. “Fifteen minutes!” He complained in frustration. “I get you for fifteen minutes, it’s been like five.”

“Ok,” you giggled, “I know, but Baby I have so much to–”

“No,” he quickly kissed you to stop you from finishing your sentence. His hand found yours as he took the pen out of your grasp. “Fuck your pen,” he said against your mouth as he threw it somewhere across the room, the sound of it smacking against the wall and dropping to the ground echoing throughout the space.

“Jimin,” you squealed as his lips attached to yours again.

“Ten more minutes,” he mumbled against your lips. Pulling away just the slightest so his face hovered just above your own, he kissed the tip of your nose sweetly. “I’m doing this for you and your brain, Dear. All because I love you. Appreciate me,” he pouted as his voice took on a whiny tone at the end of his sentence.

Rolling your eyes, you fought back a smile. “All for me and my brain huh?” You asked, raising your eyebrows in scrutiny, only for him to nod as he sported an innocent expression. “You’re not getting any enjoyment out of this at all?”

Jimin’s lips spread into an amused grin as he softly placed kisses on your lips. “None at all.”

“Mmm, you’re so selfless,” you teased between his actions.

Giggling against your lips as he deepened the kiss, he breathed out, “I know,” he confirmed as he rolled over, pulling you on top of him, making you squeal and laugh against him. “You’re so lucky to have me,” he teased.

“Ugh,” you groaned into the kiss as Jimin laughed at himself.

Taking your face between his hands, he squished your face. “I’m the best,” he cooed with a stunning, cocky grin.

“You’re the worst,” you mumbled through your squished cheeks and forced puckered lips.

“Yeah,” he kissed you. “You’ve said that,” he giggled as you both deepened the kiss, taking full advantage of the eight remaining minutes of your 15 minute break.

[beyondthetemples-ooc]

@astrearl​ I cut the post, so I really don’t know why it was all still there on your blog, but I don’t want to stretch peoples’ dashes with four essays in a row! So, new post then?

tl;dr I think you’ve confusing an ENBY’S perception of THEMSELF for SOCIETY’S perception. Which, when we’re talking about an INDIVIDUAL’S identity and preferences, shouldn’t really matter at all. Society’s not the be-all end-all of right, correct, and true.

Consensus =/= Reality.

What’s wrong with a novel term sounding like gibberish? The term “nonbinary” may be from the last century, but the concept of gender outside of masculinity and femininity has a LOT of history in other societies! I would encourage you to research what it means to be two-spirited and fa'afafine. These words don’t exist in colloquial language, and yet there ARE words for them in OTHER languages.

English is a very lacking language on this one.

But the lack of terminology DOES NOT indicate a lack of validity. Society’s rules are all arbitrary and made up, too. Putting a dress on doesn’t automatically give someone a typical XX-chromosome’d person’s body parts or mannerisms. Believe me, I know a lot of trans people who would be DELIGHTED if that’s the way it worked. But it doesn’t. Because clothes aren’t INHERENTLY gendered, it’s only peoples’ PERCEPTIONS. Heck, even mannerisms aren’t inherently gendered.

That perception is NOT universal.

It’s a matter of a different perception is all. Nonbinary people, in general, don’t perceive a skirt as being Feminine. Like I said: It’s not about the association with gender for ME, PERSONALLY. It’s about the way it flows! I like to feel the fabric fluttering around my legs! Fuck all with femininity; if they were perceived as masculine, I’d wear them just the same.

I don’t know how to explain to you that society’s perception of gender isn’t the same as an individual’s perception of themself. Society’s perception of a tree as tall doesn’t impact the tiny oak sprout that’s just starting out. Society’s perception of pigeons as ugly doesn’t impact my love for them as pets. Society’s perception of my gender doesn’t determine what my gender actually IS.

I think you might be conflating gender roles (what society says belongs in masculine/feminine categories) with an INDIVIDUAL’S gender. Or perhaps, the observer’s schema with the subject’s identity.

An individual’s identity is NOT determined by what the world interprets!

Enbies aren’t delusional. We know that society, at large, doesn’t even accept that nonbinary is an option. We know that the vast statistical majority is going to see a dress, and make an Automatic Schema Assumption that “that individual must be a woman”.

But it doesn’t HAVE to be that way. People can learn! People can become tolerant! They don’t have to understand it; clearly you’re comfortable in your preferences being associated with femininity, but that ASSOCIATION is just YOURS, and YOURS ALONE.

A lot of people making the same assumption doesn’t automatically make it true or correct.

But you know what they say about assuming, right? (Unless “to assume makes an ‘ass’ out of ‘u’ and ‘me’” is an American one...)

Anyways, that perception is NOT universal! Just because it’s statistically more common doesn’t make it accurate, or any more valid than my own perception of MYSELF. Just because outsiders don’t understand the experience doesn’t make it any less valid. Just because we’re still in the process of developing out own consensus doesn’t mean it isn’t still a real, true expression of who we are. It’s hard to find words for something your language is biased against, you know? That’s why there’s no Official Dictionary. I mean, if you looked in your local library, you might find some of those hard-and-fast definitions you’re looking for. They are going to be from people within the community, though. I don’t know why that’s a bad thing? Just like you’re going to find definitions of two-spirited from Native Americans, and only a Polynesian could tell you what it means to be fa'afafine.

It’s only natural for a community to know its members better than people outside the community! Duh! That’s GUARANTEED. That’s a GIVEN. That’s facts of life! Nobody can talk about what nonbinary means unless you’re actually, you know, nonbinary.

Let me ask you a question: Do you act like you have an English degree? Why or why not? How or how not? Because there isn’t any one way someone with an English degree acts? It’s like that. See, it’s all entirely subjective. Perception is SUBJECTIVE. And that fully includes the perception of the self. It doesn’t HAVE hard-and-fast rules, because you cannot quantify something that can’t be fit on a number line. There are so many factors that go into someone’s Relationship With Gender. But the inclusion of their own thoughts and feelings about themself doesn’t make their experience any less valid.

(As an aside: Note the effortless use of third-person pronouns with nonspecific gender. “They/them” is already entirely valid as a singular third-person pronoun in our colloquial language. People just don’t want to have to think about using it intentionally when they ~assume~ they know someone’s gender. And, you know, people threw fits about “you” being used as a singular second-person pronoun instead of “thou” four centuries ago, and yet, miraculously, somehow /s, I haven’t seen a single person walking around using “thou” colloquially! Could it be because language and perception of words evolves and changes naturally, as a matter of course?)

Someone’s “Gender” is one’s perception of their own relationship to gender. It has nothing to do with presentation or society’s rules, it’s literally ALL perception-- to use your words, “thoughts and feelings”. It’s literally just thoughts and feelings. You can’t evaluate your own experience without thoughts and feelings.

It’d be like asking someone their opinion on the literary merit of Emily Dickenson’s poetry, or their favorite color, and telling them to use society’s answer instead of their own thoughts and feelings. These things AREN’T able to be given hard and fast rules, because there are so many different answers, and so many different ways of perceiving and interacting with the world. And that absolutely, completely includes perception and interaction with gender.

Nonbinary is an umbrella term, my friend, not a diagnosis.  

And if you absolutely MUST have those “scientific” standpoints to understand transgenderism, don’t you know that the very same genomes and squishy brain parts impact an enby’s perception of oneself?

Gender doesn’t come in only two flavors, and I mean in the genetic, scientific way. The various genetic markers that form the parts of the brain that create schemas and perceive oneself can be every bit as varied as the parts that process basic arithmetic. There is no two distinct and separate “male brain” and “female brain”. Every study I know since like 2006 that has tried to prove that was debunked. Neurology’s wild, okay, and anyone who tries to reduce the vast variety of human brains into two categories based only on chromosome shape is desperately lacking information on how those chromosomes affect the brain-- and exactly what areas they DON’T.

tl;dr on that, the brain’s perceptions are formed by THOUGHTS and FEELINGS. Not just sensory input, but how one ANALYZES it and the self-talk they employ. Not by genetic markers, but how an individual experiences the world.

And that VERY MUCH includes the way one interacts with gender. How they connect with it. How they see others’ schemas, analyze them, and determine if they fit their perception of themselves or not.

Just like trans folk, enbies have all the same genome sequences and gray matter that’s making them feel that way.

All I’m trying to tell you is, nb folks get offended because people are Making Assumptions instead of just, you know, taking two and a half seconds to ASK.

And then there’s the issue of telling someone that “I identify as nonbinary, could you please use they/them when you’re talking about me?” And then people don’t respect that.

You can’t expect anything but getting offended if someone makes an outright request like that and people don’t respect it.

You don’t have to understand someone to respect them. I don’t understand how the religion of Islam works, and yet I don’t go around calling Muslims Christians. Because they’re just not the same, and it’s in very poor taste to call someone something they’re not. Particularly if they’ve outright Told You.

Not to mention, ALL the issues society has with Gender Roles and how it feeds into Sexism, but that’s a whole new essay.

[yourwitchmama]

Why do my spirit guides not talk to me directly? What is holding me back from connecting deeper?Pisces Sun, Leo rising, Cancer moon

Spirits never really talk to you directly. I never actually hear or see anything physically. It is about feelings, the subconscious, and how you are interpreting messages you think are coming from another entity. You feel the energy, and you let your thoughts go, or you do automatic writing (write whatever comes to mind no matter if it makes sense or not, or just writing gibberish) There are some great spirit guide meditations on youtube that you could try. They can be 2 hours long, but I find them very helpful for getting direct messages from guides. I hope this helps <3

[writer59january13]

Unidentified flying object abducted yours truly,...

a willing experimental subject

to escape untenable married life.

Upon falling into a deep slumber,

the following subconscious

somnambulant scenario arose

allowing, enabling, and providing

temporary alleviation from

outa harried married state.

Out of a tendency to be impetuous,

and oblivious to danger,

I voluntarily let myself get abducted

by this gruesome green

Geico looking alien ghoul.

Any resemblance between the following

piece meal description being kidnapped

by an alien (from another

condemn nation in the cosmos),

and married life purely coincidental.

Although pitch-black that hot summer

July night 20xx, an ominous

ghastly shape could lumbered

near the skeletal partially built addition

at Lower Merion High School.

This phantasmagorical amorphous,

diaphanous, illustrious, portentous...

entity hovered outside the phosphorescent flying saucer.

I stood stock still as my cold breath

created miniature clouds that formed

a gauzy window,

thru which opaque

ether real movements detected.

Eight tentacles sporting 2,240 suction cups

used to grip, taste, and smell

(similar to Octopus teacher

viewed courtesy NetFlix)

shredded this faux misty shroud

and quickly, yet gently grabbed me.

I found myself on-board

a battle gray extra-terrestrial object.

Fate delivered me into the "hands"

of what appeared the most surreal setting

created by ingenious

computer graphics technicians.

Nanny boo boo

uttered the creature from black abyss.

Since what sounded like

outer space gibberish

as a second language not an elective

when I attended Methacton High School

nearly two and a half score years ago

(nor colleges for that matter),

an automatic reflex took over.

I offered a gap toothed

(i.e. Alfred E. Neuman -

what me worry) wry smile.

An immediate interest arose

from these outliers at the ultra thin

metallic post sticking atop me noggin.

As a human robot electronic signals broadcast

and received courtesy said antenna.

Nevertheless, a crazy idea occurred.

Maybe these foreigners

from another galaxy could secure

long overdue permanent implanted teeth

(in place of these ill fitting dentures)

and extricate me out volatile pledged troth

without charging an arm or leg.

Ha!

Non-verbal communication

resorted to as a necessary expedient

to establish comprehension

and self preservation.

Additionally, the notion

to avoid any action interpreted

as hostile best be applied

even at the expense

of forsaking being whisked away

countless light-years

from 1148 Greentree Lane,

Narberth, Pennsylvania.

Psychiatric medications re:

(GLYCOPYRROLATE, TAB 2MG,

CLOMIPRAMINE CAP 50MG,

RISPERIDONE TAB 1MG,

FLUOXETINE CAP 20MG,

PRAZOSIN HCL CAP5MG,

BUSPIRONE TAB 15MG,

PRAMIPEXOLE TAB 1MG,

CLONAZEPAM TAB 0.5MG,

and AMITIZA 24 MCG -

prescription laxative)

prescribed by Doctor David Lee Wrought)

most definitely eased anxiety

per dread locked terror

that loomed large

within my quite active imagination.

I willingly made clear

(using all manner of gesticulations)

to surrender myself,

which idea triggered

a flicker of excitement.

Wow!

This bizarre situation could offer

this golden opportunity

to escape the tragedies

of terrestrial existence

and perhaps link up

with another weird organic life form

human or otherwise.

Once this electric like surge

coursed thru each fiber,

I brazenly approached

the other-worldly specimens

guarding their shimmering craft,

which appeared to hover just barely

above the perimeter slated

to be another state of the art

wing of this campus.

I hemmed and hawed

with tentative steps

before nonchalantly scaling

the hydraulically propelled ladder.

At once, an immediate whoosh took place.

After these myopic eyes

adjusted to the scene,

I observed an identical earth like landscape

and heard what sounded

like the most melodious chimes.

Actually, that globe happened

to be dear third rock from the sun

as viewed from the nearest window.

Upon setting foot into the structure,

an automatic accelerator

jettisoned this motley crue at warp speed.

Within my mind, I thought

what to do to pass the time???

Instantaneous sans any desire

promulgated that very wish.

Ah!

Perchance, these ethereal creatures

(large and small)

conveyed messages telepathically?

I put this hypothesis to a rudimentary

electric kool aid acid test.

Within my mind, I silently uttered

Matthew Scott Harris.

An instant reply came back - in my head.

Every one of these wraith-like

cosmic nomads understood

wordless wireless whims,

thus believing yours truly

(me self) to believe said species

reduced signals to digital bits

and/or hallowed weaned bytes.

Upon waking up,

I realized the aforementioned a dream

merrily rowing me thru illusory time stream.

[definitelynotplanetfall]

so about that orientation/preference brouhaha

Having slept nonzero hours and having mulled this over a bit

I don’t exactly have a horse in this race as a filthy Fake Pseudo Ace That Doesn’t Even Have The Decency To Be Aro Or Gay Or Even Completely Ace I Mean Stolen Valor Much. It’s literally impossible to criminalize not having sex. Utterly unenforceable. I get that I’m not being targeted here and my opinion doesn’t really matter except as a barometer for “is planetfall a good person” (which I am not, and could have told you without any of the fuss). I have no specific love for the phrase “sexual preference,” I don’t think I have ever even used it, but also it’s such a nothing distinction. I do not care that Important Organizations declared it offensive years ago, because the reasoning they used to do so is silly, and of the people I’ve seen saying it definitely is not offensive what on earth are you on about, a bunch of them are LGBTQ.

And again, to address the issue that spawned this specific instance of this discourse, given Barrett’s record and the way homophobes do seem to insist on saying preference, it probably is a signal she intends to use her power in bigoted ways.

But like.

First of all, it is incredibly foot-shooty to say the evidence of her prejudice is the fact that she said “sexual preference” and not “sexual orientation,” which requires a fair bit of contextual understanding to see what the problem is and looks like pedantic hair-splitting without that knowledge, when shit like this exists.

Second - I’m sort of Von Wokensteining here, and to my understanding this entire argument started from one tweet or something similar, and it’d be misleading to assert “this one tweeter is the avatar for progressivism!“

EDIT: That’s not correct, it was a senator at her hearing rather than a rando providing commentary. I should have confirmed this myself and only learned it a few days later. This shows how accusations are taken out of context and passed around demanding judgment. I definitely could have spent more time reading about this incident, because I am a shitty excuse for a person with unlimited time. Every random Joe Blow does not have that luxury.

In my defense I was not paying attention to the hearing because I just assumed she would be maximally bad on all issues, considering who appointed her, and that was not a swamp I really wanted to wade through.

However.

People rushing to defend the assertion that “sexual preference” is self-evidently offensive gives at the very least an impression of a unified ideological coalition.

And, I said this in the last post but it bears repeating, the left lost the right to use “born this way” rhetoric the moment it became a semi-common talking point that you need to challenge your attractions if you aren’t attracted to an adequate cross-section of your area’s ethnic makeup or whatever. To intentionally try to change your attractions. To choose your attractions, if I may be so bold.

The charge against “sexual preference” is that it implies that orientation is a choice, which is supposedly hopelessly reactionary. Even ignoring for a moment that it does not in fact imply this, you do not get to tell people it is indefensible to IMPLY things that your side SAYS OUTRIGHT.

Also, quite frankly, I consider myself to have been made more ace during my lifetime by certain prevalent messages (and other hyper-targeted ones), and like, if the argument is actually that non-innate sexualities are illegitimate, does that mean that there can be no moral objection to someone raping me because the sky wizard said so?

[edit: screaming redacted]

It literally does not matter whether who you’re attracted to is a choice or inborn or whatever because that is not the moral dimension, the moral dimension is “does it hurt anyone?” which it fucking doesn’t why is this so difficult

I don’t give a shit about the rhetoric. The rhetoric sucks. The rhetoric is wrong.

Third, I’m extremely suspicious of any sort of euphemism-treadmill type anything, but one thing that’s especially suspect is when someone says “X term is offensive to Y demographic” against the wishes of that demographic. Like, my circles are not the widest, but I have mostly seen LGBTQ people being upset at being spoken for against their own wishes, sometimes with people chiming in and helpfully saying “no, see, you should be offended! This article says you are offended so stop pretending not to be!”

I am not trying to make a false equivalency of the relative badness levels but please, try to appreciate the poetic irony in unironically deploying “The Dedicated Truth Decreer said the innocuous-on-its-face thing was bad” in this of all possible situations.

It’s the “listen to X (I am not X, and X that disagree with me are not real X so don’t listen to them)” thing. The entire authority of that sort of article rests on the authors speaking for groups, so when members of that group say “this is bullshit pedantry and not offensive, and in fact your declaring it offensive on my behalf makes me feel less safe in places purportedly organized for my benefit” does in fact undermine the authority of those declarations.

Fourth, this is not as strong of an argument and really super tangential, but I’m personally sick of people just... giving things up because bad people claim them. I don’t extend this infinitely, so for instance Hindus trying to reclaim the swastika are probably right on the level of “it is wrong that this important symbol from our culture has been made synonymous with the greatest evil in living memory, and this change should be reverted,” but it’s so culturally ingrained that I don’t know if it is possible to fix at this point.

However, I remember when a bunch of Nazis were like “we own Pepe the frog now” and the response to this was like, “Yeah! Let them grab whatever culture they want, it is tainted by their even saying they want it! Also all Pepe memes made before this point are retroactively fascist!” and just...

That’s fucking transparently stupid. That specific thing has abated and you can find lefty Pepe memes now, nature is healing etc etc, but the “anime = fascist” thing hasn’t and it’s so so mind-numbing that you would just cede entire genres of art and start asserting that anyone who enjoys them is automatically irredeemable without considering what effect this might have on how unhinged you look or your ability to say your ideal world is better than theirs. I remember arguing with someone about this circa 2016 and I said something to the effect of “well what if instead of next they claim jazz” and they said it would suck that nobody could listen to jazz anymore. (iirc, this person was white which makes it extra hilarious/depressing, but the forum thread where it happened seems to be deleted so assume I made this up from whole cloth)

The reason I bring this up is part of the reason people say “it implies orientation is a choice” is because that’s what homophobes say it means (in contradiction to the literal words, naturally) and why they insist on using it. It’s less of a concrete thing, but the two feel isomorphic.

Lastly... OK so in my other post I used sort of a cringy programming metaphor, because I was half asleep so the only part of my brain still functioning was “comprehension of programming problems” amirite fellas. I don’t like definition debates in general but it seems like a lot of the people insisting “preference = choice” are using different definitions, so this is mostly just to show how that is not the only obvious interpretation.

A sexual orientation is a description of what gender(s) someone wants to have sex with.

A preference is a description of what someone wants.

Therefore a sexual orientation is a type of preference.

Note that nothing there says anything about origin or mutabiliy. Just that if you ask someone what their orientation is, you will get information about what they do and don’t want.

I need to stress that based on the context that sparked off this debacle I can understand why someone’s interpretation of the phrase might be “orientation is a choice” - even though I think it’s wrong to assume that’s what is meant by the phrase inherently, it’s a reasonable reaction to pattern-match talking points.

But the other thing is that it’s probably wrong to perma-delete the phrase because it isn’t gibberish.

What I mean by that is I get frustrated whenever someone is talking about an expenditure of energy and time related to feelings, and someone else comes along and screeches “THAT’S NOT WHAT EMOTIONAL LABOR MEANS”

and yes, that is not what the jargon phrase “emotional labor” means

but the person you’re yelling at was in fact describing labor that is emotional, and due to the way English works, you are allowed to delete the “that is” and move the adjective before the noun. Some would even recommend this in the name of concision. (And as I’ve said before, “emotion work” as a substitute phrase is...linguistically unpleasant to say the least.)

Saying that you can’t say “sexual preference” is sort of in the same boat. People will want to talk about preferences that are sexual, because there are more variables than just orientation, but those things still matter and should get a category name and look the entire argument falls apart if you don’t make bizarre assumptions about the connotations of the word “preference” and there are only so many ways I can state that fact.

IN SHITTY CONCLUSION

The fact that I wrote out a giant post defending a phrase I don’t otherwise care about reveals some sort of deep moral failing.

[kokoshop-blog1]

Publishing And Digital And Electronic Rights

The chasing publishing perseverance scoop addresses some of the legal issues arising for publishing lawyers, fulfillment attorneys, authors, and others as a aftereffect of the wealth of e-mail, the Internet, and so-called "digital" and "electronic publishing". As usual, publishing statute generally and the management of the digital right and electronic advantage specifically, governing these commercial activities, has been slow to pin up to the action itself. Yet amount of the publishing commerce "gray areas" can be resolved by requiring old common-sense interpretation upon new publishing supervisor and recreations surveyors traffic constructs, including the digital prerogative and electronic right, and others. And if after reviewing this scoop you believe you have a non-jargonized handle on the diversity between "digital right" and "electronic right" in the publishing context, then I seeming striker to hearing from you and reading your article, too.

1. "Electronic Right[s]" And "Digital Right[s]" Are Not Self-Defining.

All publishing lawyers, amusement attorneys, authors, and others must be very careful approx the utility of gibberish - publishing commerce jargon, or otherwise. Electronic and digital publishing is a recent phenomenon. Although as a publishing fan and recreations advocates and unlike some others, I tend to utility the phrase "electronic right" or even "digital right" in the singular number, there probably tends to be no single consensus as to what constitutes and collectively comprises the singular "electronic right" or "digital right". There has not been sufficient time for the publishing, media, or leisure traffic to fully crystallize accurate and complete meaning of phrase like "electronic publishing", "web publishing", "electronic right[s]", "e-rights", "digital rights", or "first electronic rights".

These word are therefore usually just assumed or, worse yet, just plain fudged. Anyone who suggests that these manifestation alone are already self-defining, would be wrong.

Accordingly, anyone, including a publishing advocate or paralegal representing a collection publisher or remuneration administrator representing a workshop or producer, who says that an author should do - or not do - something in the area of the "electronic right" or "digital right" because it is "industry-standard", should automatically be treated with doubt and skepticism.

The act of the protocol is, this is a great age for authors as well as author-side publishing booster and joy attorneys, and they should seize the moment. The actuality that "industry-standard" meaning of the electronic independence and digital privileges have yet to fully crystallize, (if indeed they ever do), degree that authors and author-side publishing lawyer and remuneration attorneys can income advantage of this value in history.

Of course, authors can also be taken probability of, too - particularly those not represented by a publishing director or remuneration attorney. There is a long and unfortunate history of that happening, well prior to the advent of the electronic correctness and digital right. It has probably happened since the years of the Gutenberg Press.

Every copier should be represented by a publishing lawyer, recreations attorney, or other counsel before signing any publishing or other agreement, provided that their own economic tools will allow it. (But I am admittedly biased in that regard). Part of the publishing lawyer and contentment attorney's incumbency in representing the author, is to tease apart the different state that collectively comprise the electronic prerogative or digital right. This must be done with updated care to tendency technology. If your advisor on this seed is instead a clans part with a Smith-Corona cartridge typewriter or a Commodore PET, rather than an pleasure follower or publishing lawyer, then it may be time to seek a new advisor.

Even authors who cannot afford publishing managers or satisfaction attorney counsel, however, should avoid agreeing in handwriting to give hens contractual grants to publishers of "electronic publishing" - or the "electronic right", or "electronic rights" or "digital rights", or the "digital right". Rather, in the words of "Tears For Fears", the scribe and copier counsel had "better pause it down again". Before agreeing to grant anyone the author's "digital right: or "electronic right", or any elements thereof, the writer and his or her publishing administrator and delight amp profile to make a list of all the possible and manifold electronic track that the written firm could be disseminated, exploited, or digitally or electronically otherwise used. Notice that the author's list testament likely vary, month to month, given the fast rate of technological advancements. For example, these station of misgiving tins be considered by the copier and publishing lawyer and satisfaction follower alike:

Electronic Digital Right Question #1, Asked By The Publishing Lawyer/Entertainment Attorney To The Author: Can the prevalence be published in whole or in sliver on the Internet? In the locale of an "e-zine"? Otherwise? If so, how? For what purpose? Free to the reader? For a toll to the reader?

Electronic Digital Right Question #2, Asked By The Publishing Lawyer/Entertainment Attorney To The Author: Can the usage be disseminated through private e-mail lists or "listservs"? Free to the reader? For a levy to the reader?

Electronic Digital Right Question #3, Asked By The Publishing Lawyer/Entertainment Attorney To The Author: Can the custom be distributed on CD-Rom? By whom? In what fashion and context?

Electronic Digital Right Question #4, Asked By The Publishing Lawyer/Entertainment Attorney To The Author: To what gauges does the author, himself or herself, appetites to self-publish this work, either before or after granting any electronic justness or any individual "electronic publishing" correctness therein to someone else? Will such self-publication occur on or through the author's website? Otherwise?

Electronic Digital Right Question #5, Asked By The Publishing Lawyer/Entertainment Attorney To The Author: Even if the scribe does not self-publish, to what criterion does the poet craving to be able to use and disseminate this script for his or her own portfolio, publicity, or self-marketing purposes, and perhaps disseminate that same document (or excerpts thereof) electronically? Should that be deemed invasive of, or competitive with, the electronic privileges as otherwise contractually and collectively constituted?

The above list is illustrative but not exhaustive. Any poet and any publishing counselors and remuneration supporter testament likely pondering of other elements of the electronic and digital privilege and other uses as well. The quantity of possible uses and complexities of the electronic right[s] and digital right[s] definition evidence reprieve as technology advances. In addition, different authors will have different responses to the publishing counselors and entertainment attorney, to each of the carefully-itemized questions. Moreover, the same copier may be concerned with the electronic privileges in the background of one of his/her works, but may not usage so much in the background of a lieutenant and different undertaking not as susceptible to digital benefit exploitation. Therefore, the scribe must self-examine on these types of electronic and digital cheek problem before responding to the author's publishing director or reimbursement follower and then incursion into each individual deal. Only by doing so can the scribe avoid the peril and perils of relying upon lingo, and relying upon someone else to dictate to them what is the electronic prerogative or digital impertinence "industry standard". As the publishing advocate and recreations supporter should opine, "There is no such entity as 'industry standard' in the scenes of a bilaterally-negotiated contract. The only configuration that you the author should be worried roughly is the motivational 'standard' known as: 'if you don't ask, you don't get'".

Finally, the copier should be aware that while the electronic right, digital right, and part thereof can be expressly granted, they tins also be expressly reserved to the author, by a mere whipping of the furrows or keystroke made by the publishing advocate or joy attorney. For example, if an composer avoidance to expressly constraint the "portfolio uses" mentioned in Electronic Digital Right Question #5 above, then the poet should ask his or her publishing advocate or recreations supporter to clearly recite this doubt of the scribe portfolio electronic/digital right in the contract, and departure nothing to chance. In addition, if the author has some discussing leverage, the author, through the publishing advocate or delight attorney, may be able to negotiate the "safety net" of a "savings clause" which provides schoolbook to the impressing that: "all justness not expressly granted to publisher, be it an electronic probability or digital prerogative or otherwise, are specifically reserved to author for his/her sole utility and benefit". That way, the "default provision" of the compact may automatically capture un-granted justness including any electronic or digital liberty for the author's later use. This publishing supporter and amusement attorney drafting funds has likely saved empires in the past.

2. Publishers and Entertainment Companies Are Revising Their Boilerplate Agreements, As We Speak, In An Effort To Secure The Electronic Right[s].

It is well-known and should come as no astonishment that benefit now, as we speak, publishers and their in-house and outside counsel publishing follower and amusement attorneys are furiously re-drafting their boilerplate contracts to more thoroughly capture the digital and electronic presumption - that is, all of an author's digital and electronic rights. The typical publishing symmetry drafted by a company-side publishing director or joy champion will recite a woman stipend of rights, then followed by a whole laundry-list of "including but not limited to" examples. If the poet receives such an onerous-looking right canal from a publisher or the publisher's publishing supervisor or appeasement attorney, the author should not be intimidated. Rather, the author should seeming at it as an danger to type some crack and have some fun. The writer tins first compare the roster suggested in Electronic Digital Right Questions #1 through #5 above, to the publisher's own laundry-list and the author's own imagination. Then, the writer can decide which if any of the separate digital or electronic correctness the composer necessity to fight to accord for himself or herself.

If the publisher tells the poet to blindly subscribe to their entire digital or electronic right[s] section (or clauses), then the copier still has the ultimate leverage, which is to walk away from the proposed concern prior to signature. Of course, this strategic approach wouldn't be advisable in hordes box - unless perhaps if the writer has other written offers from other publishers already on the table. However, an scribe shouldn't be forced by any publisher or any company-side publishing director or satisfaction supporter to symptom away the electronic right, digital right, or any other right that the poet would rather celebration - particularly prerogative which the writer never specifically intended to chamber to the publisher in the first instance.

The scribe should balancing in brain the psychology and motivations of the publishers and their publishing supporters and remuneration follower counsel when act all of this. A Vice-President (or above) at the publishing enterprise probably woke up one recent morning, and realized that his/her business lost a great event of cocaine on a particular project by not interchange a prospective authorization or bureau of an electronic justness or digital right from another author. The VP probably then blamed the company's in-house legal talent publishing supporter or leisure attorneys, who in inning started frantically re-drafting the business boilerplate to assuage the angry publishing executive and thereby keeping their jobs. When in-house publishing lawyers, delight attorneys, or others engage in this type of practice (some may discharge it "drafting from fear"), they tend to go overboard.

Accordingly, what you will probably see is a proverbial "kitchen sink" electronic advantage clause which has been newly-drafted and perhaps even insufficiently reviewed by the company-side publishing advocate and pleasures attorneys, internally and themselves - wherein the publisher will ask the writer for every possible electronic and digital benefit and every other thing, including (without limitation) the kitchen sink. The only critique to such a broad-band electronic probability or digital privileges section is a careful, deliberate, and methodical reply.

Using the approach outlined in Section #1 above, the composer and the author's publishing patron or remuneration champion counsel must separately tease apart each utility and contents of the electronic justness and digital forwardness that the publisher's broad-band clause permanence otherwise capture, and then opine to the publisher a "yes" or a "no" on each line-item. In other words, the author, through his or her publishing supervisor or pleasure attorney, should exercise his or her line-item veto. It's the author's alphabet that we are talking about, after all. The writer should be the one to convert the singular "electronic right" or "digital right" into the laundry-list of electronic rights. That's why I utility the singular tally when referring to "electronic right" or "digital right" - I like to let the technologically-advanced composer have all the entertainment order the list. That way, too, the copier can tell me what he or she pondering the maxim actually mean, and what the unlikeness between the two object really is, if anything.

For more about https://kokania.com/product-category/electronics/

[chasing-sirius-in-circles]

@anon you remind me of me. I'm somewhat of a novice in this department too, but here's what I've learned so far about the spirits of the dead, at least:

1) whatever you do, don't invite unknown things into your space.

What I mean by this is none of that *over ouija board* "AnyONe PrESEnT? :))" reaching into the ether to see what bites. You could get...anything. stick to entities you already know are there and have need of communication with them, or at least summon specific spirits you know BY NAME, such as ancestors.

Seriously, I cannot emphasize enough how much intent to talk to someone specific who you can identify and invite by name (or by actions, eg. "The entity which stuck my cat's hairball to the wall," which is an actual thing that happened to me lmaoo) makes a difference in your comfort as well as the ease of communication.

2) ouija boards kinda suck

I made one that I spelled the shit out of to not let anything nasty in and I've never had anything abuse it, but I've also never had a spirit use it effectively. I get a lot of gibberish. My guess is that has to do with the strength of the spells v. the strength of the spirit, as well as an inherent mistrust of ouija boards I have leftover from some dumb middle school experiences that probably makes me an inhospitable energy source to work one. Remember that in ouija or automatic writing you are giving the entity YOUR ENERGY, your muscle control, your body. Don't go giving that to just anyone, and if you can't trust to give it at all, it won't work.

If you can make ouija work for you, CALORIE LOAD before and after. It's an astounding energy drain if you're not someone who has trained to/naturally doesn't give much. My friend who's done spirit work with me is like a human battery to spirits and it does a number on her big time every time.

3) decide what you want to do with spirits and then find the method that works for YOU.

I've realized ghost hunting is not my jam. Becoming a pro medium (if I can even train enough to get there) who seeks out spirits also might not be for me. I have too much wariness of what's out there that isn't the human dead. Where my heart lies is (giant exaggerated air quotes) """black"""" magic where communion with the dead is about insight or to appeal to them for their blessings or wisdom to facilitate some cause, eg. "Find a job" "hex my abuser so she'll surrender her abused cat when she goes" kind of things. My jam is to have a present spirit--an ancestor, the ñatita who lives with us, a local spirit I know is there like hairball guy--I ask for power or favors, be it permission to use dirt from their grave or some other material, or asking for their direct intervention.

Now that I know that about myself, I've learned that what works best for me is actually a pendulum and tarot cards to interpret their will or answers if I can't confidently receive them psychically. (Idk is psychic is the right word but it's the best I have, sorry.)

4) you will have no success with the spirits of the dead if you cannot exist in peace alongside the dead.

Some fear is normal, I genuinely believe it's an instinctual human reaction to feel fear in the presence of what you know is here but cannot see, and the kind of fear is informative. Ever watch a ghost show or youtube video and some of the encounters shake you to your core but they're also fascinating, they make you FEEL, while others make you think NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE? Listen to that instinct. Not all spirits are human, or ever were. The ones that are will still be fundamentally people on some level, and once you can understand them a little (eg. Do they have a certain intent, are they responding to your presence) the fear will ease significantly. The ones that aren't? I couldn't tell you. I don't fuck with them.

As for getting more comfortable (again, you may still have that gut fear reaction, but it's the difference between "this gives me the shivers but in my mind I am comfortable" and "I want to run from this") the only way I know is to confront the idea of death as well as the dead themselves. To do that, I recommend a couple things:

Learn about the spirituality of death. Read about how death is percieved in as many cultures as you can. Learn how cultures define death. Learn how cultures honor the dead. Learn about how cultures including your own percieve the dead themselves--are there good spirits and bad? A separate category for ancestors? Are the dead subservient to the living, or superior to them, or both? Historically, how have the living used the dead? Also, learn about death deities and psychopomps. Osiris, Hades, Persephone, Santa Muerte, Ankou, Anubis, Hela, The Baron, etc. You will find that a lot of the deities also have a fundamental relationship with birth and rebirth.

Learn about the way humans respond to death, including funerary and mortuary practices across cultures and history. You might even be able to take a thanatology course (I took at online one at CU Boulder, they're usually listed as sociology courses) or just do your own research. This is the hardest for me personally, but this includes learning about the body at death. What happens when we decompose? What are cremains? (People will imagine nice neat soft ash. No. Cremation leaves whole fragments of charred bone behind that are crushed down to dust after the fact in some cultures. It's ash, yes, but it's also straight up powdered human bone, albeit superheated to the point of not having any useful mineral or nutrient content left... that be planted as a tree cremation gimmick is kind of bullshit.) Learn about the body, decomposition, rigor, etc. AND what morticians or their equivalents actually do with those corpses. The wired jaws. The pins in eye sockets. The holes stitched or plugged shut. You know, the gross parts that remind us that our bodies are just meat one too many missed heartbeats away from rotting.

Try to learn what the presence of the dead feels like. Go on walks in cemeteries. Go to a museum and don't just look at mummies or skeletal remains, stand by them and look at them for a while and "meditate" on their nature. They are dead. You are not. But can you feel them? What can you feel? Are you having a certain reaction you need to work through, like fear or disgust? If you're in a position to do so (I don't recommend talking to museum mummies in front of the general public lmao) talk to them. Feel for an answer--do you hear them in your mind? Get an emotional impression of some kind? Feel a change in the air or smell something? You might not get anything but just trying has been hugely helpful for me, anyway. Just be mindful that if you're getting a vibe of "go away" you should respect it just as you would the living. If you think you've overstepped, apologize sincerely and leave them alone, no harm no foul. (If someone does follow you with ill intent, remember that your will is your strongest asset. You are of the living. They are of the dead. Tell them in no uncertain terms not to follow, not to mess, and to stay in their lane. This also usually works on hauntings. "This is my house that I live in and I will allow you to be here too only if you stop sticking stuff to my walls and fucking with my lights" will take care of most issues with an average haunting, though not all are average.)

That's the best advice I can think of off the top of my head! If you want some reading material suggestions, I like:

The wikipedia page for psychopomps is pretty decent and has tons of links and sources you can continue on through

Give "death deities" a google

Give "funerary practices" a google, there are some interesting ones in the world

Watch, read, or listen to anything by Caitlin Doughty and the Ask a Mortician crew. Her book "From Here to Eternity" is the BEST and her citations in that book also suggest some great stuff. (That's where I first learned about ñatitas, for example.)

Oh, and one other thing: you cannot make any headway with the dead, in my experience, if you have not also, as much as a human can, confronted the fact that you, too, will die. Everything that has ever or will ever live will die. Everything. Everyone. That's a lifelong journey--grappling with death is a massive element of human psychology and culture as well as being a focus of religion--but at least try to start down the path of thinking on that.

Have you ever connected to or spoken with spirits? I would like to try but I am kind of scared because I do believe that evil entities can attach themselves and roam in your house.

Just do what you can to research and protect yourself and you’ll be fine.

[blue-opossum]

Beyond the Locked Steel Door

        Morning of April 23, 2018. Monday.

        While lying in our bed early this morning, I enter light sleep paralysis, which automatically brings me joy, a sense of well-being, and enhanced senses, though there is no imagery. I try to will the rising sensation I usually get upon focusing on this state, which usually begins with a tingling all over my body and an eventual sense of floating. This occurs and I feel weightless. I am aware of Zsuzsanna on my left. I try again. A second wave of tingling pleasure fills me.

        Believing I am at least partly awake now (but still in a vivid dream state), I see a few random comic strip panels as if floating above me, facing downward. I read some words and word patterns, most of which are the typical gibberish, but the letters are very clear. One end panel says "TWIN" and below that, "TWN". Another end panel begins with "Dream interpretation is misrepresentation...".

        I believe I am talking to Zsuzsanna about what I had seen, though my eyes are closed for a time. There is a real awakening of which quickly falls back into a false awakening. I seem to be in the Stadcor Street backyard (where we have not lived in years) in late morning, even though it also seems we are inside our present home in bed in semidarkness. (Being aware of two different lighting schemes simultaneously is not that common in my dreams, though it is basically just another aspect of bilocation caused by the conscious self identity being in the dream state.) I still believe that a part of me is awake enough to communicate with Zsuzsanna. A tingling moves through my body again and there is also a flashing. My hand is flashing as well. There is a very intense enhanced awareness. However, looking at the sky, I see a Klingon Bird-of-Prey hovering over the house and a 1950s flying saucer farther to the left. I laugh at my inability to realize that I had not stayed awake during this time. I then wake for a short time for real. My sexuality seems exponentially increased. I am going to have to play around and take advantage of the dream state for a little longer.

        Still in very pleasant light sleep paralysis, I decide to augment the state again and hold my conscious self awareness intact as much as I can. I am then in the bedroom on Barolin Street (where we have not lived since 2008 - the house no longer there in reality). I deliberately become incorporeal for a time and decide to try a typical door experiment. I move through the house toward the front door, which is now a large locked steel vault door. I fly as fast as I can will myself to, headed straight to it. As I know it is a dream, and what the door represents (a liminal space barrier between different levels of consciousness and unconsciousness), I realize that one of two events will happen. Either I will wake upon reaching the door, or I will enter an even higher state of apex lucidity by phasing through it. The latter happens. Time seems to slow down and I phase through the door, enjoying the event. I marvel at the beauty of the event and my enhanced clarity of mind.

        After phasing through the steel door, I find myself in front of an unfamiliar house late at night, looking back at the other side of the door. From here, I decide to walk and also to bring about daylight.

        I reach an area with about ten people to my left, mostly sitting along the side of the road. Most of them are partly undressed. It might be some sort of family gathering. Being in apex lucidity, the dream characters are a bit "off" and "glitchy". I am looking for Zsuzsanna or a reasonable facsimile of her. I see a girl sitting on an embankment but realize that it is not her. I notice that all of the people have small areas of odd patchy and scaly darker skin. This may be a RAS hybrid of snake (the core RAS modulation factor) and personification.

        The preconscious (as an unknown male of about thirty) takes form and walks toward me and I am very annoyed, as I do not want to wake up yet. I immediately split him in two with the power of my thoughts and the sides fall in opposite directions. His partner comes over and seems upset. She looks down at the ground and seems unsure of what to say. I decide to will the pieces back together and walk off to another area.

        I summon a sexual encounter. It seems to be a version of Zsuzsanna at first, but soon turns out not to be. She is wearing a cat costume. Unfortunately, she also expects me to interact with her virtual pet first, that she pulls out of a cloth bag, which is little more than a Fleshlight with a toy stuffed cat sewn around it. This greatly annoys me and I go elsewhere. (Otherwise, a cat is an emergent consciousness factor, though remains on the preconscious side of the door of liminal space.)

        The people in this new area, half open building, half outdoors, are now taking on a more realistic appearance. Girls walk through a hall in a building of an unknown purpose. I am not sure if it is meant to be a college, hospital, train station, or all of the above. I summon Zsuzsanna and we indulge in pleasure, though I do not undress her. I go through the motions of undoing my pants (which is very strange as I am not dressed in reality and my faux conscious self model should know this). My manhood phases into her (through her clothes) as she leans back against the edge of a wall where a large room is to the left and the hall is to the right and we move together for several minutes. I have zero interest in the people walking around, though they do not regard us anyway. As I wake, I am holding Zsuzsanna close.

[lenku-alli]

I want to get all philosophical and analyze some things for a moment..

“YinOingObJoyTy#%'*)&cyoum$psm,03r499jf[@-ultkdrtdes”

“42md*)(%^'+'+8rmnfd!@#kcheckthewebfordetails:”(%*!”

“Seriouslypissingmeoff+hellan1ce2icAntb3l3ves0methlngg00dl1keth1sisonly$102s0happy+~=~+1tss0happyOrz”

“Ah, you guysWstillthinkyou're n0tg0nad13ors0m3th1ngWWWstopitstopitd0ntmst0p12”

These are dialogues circled around Nagito in SDR2 during the last few chapters of the game.. I went onto the wiki just to look up and confirm something but then I saw this and read it over again.. I started to think, not a very good thing, but I did and now I’m wanting to come up with some theories that all circle around Komaeda’s personality and deep meanings he was unable to convey.. The true feelings he wanted to convey not only to player, but to Hajime and to the world.

In-depth analysis is below the ‘Keep Reading’

“YinOingObJoyTy#%'*)&cyoum$psm,03r499jf[@-ultkdrtdes”

Let’s look at this one first. It looks just like gibberish, just like all the others could be interpreted to be. Let’s look at the words that are able to be distinguished:

Yin

Joy

You

Not a word, but the letters: “psm”

Yin: Yin and Yang.

❝ The principle of Yin and Yang is a fundamental concept in Chinese philosophy and culture in general dating from the third century BCE or even earlier. This principle is that all things exist as inseparable and contradictory opposites, for example female-male, dark-light and old-young. The two opposites attract and complement each other and, as their symbol illustrates, each side has at its core an element of the other (represented by the small dots). Neither pole is superior to the other and, as an increase in one brings a corresponding decrease in the other, a correct balance between the two poles must be reached in order to achieve harmony. ❞

❝ Yin and Yang: two complementary principles of Chinese philosophy: Yin is negative, dark, and feminine, Yang positive, bright, and masculine. Their interaction is thought to maintain the harmony of the universe and to influence everything within it. ❞

I believe this symbolizes his deep-rooted beliefs around despair for the brighter, greater hope he desires to overcome it. It definitely has a purpose in his life. Yin is the negative, dark, and feminine. It symbolizes his personality and portrayal in the cycle of balance he needs to satisfy his love for hope. It may also apply to his luck cycle of good and bad luck.

Joy: Simply stated by himself, he has always wanted to be truly happy.. To finally be loved. His deep fear of never being loved before he died, never being truly happy, constantly takes apart of his life, dealing with his luck cycle.

You: Wanting to speak to Hajime, or the player, directly.

“Psm”: Now this is interesting.

❝ Unexpected releases of toxic, reactive, or flammable liquids and gases in processes involving highly hazardous chemicals have been reported for many years, in various industries using chemicals with such properties. Regardless of the industry that uses these highly hazardous chemicals, there is a potential for an accidental release any time they are not properly controlled, creating the possibility of disaster. To help ensure safe and healthful workplaces, OSHA has issued the Process Safety Management [PSM] of Highly Hazardous Chemicals standard (29 CFR 1910.119), which contains requirements for the management of hazards associated with processes using highly hazardous chemicals.Process safety management (PSM) is addressed in specific standards for the general and construction industries. OSHA's standard emphasizes the management of hazards associated with highly hazardous chemicals and establishes a comprehensive management program that integrates technologies, procedures, and management practices. ❞

This is related to Nagito’s death. His true cause of death was his plot to have the traitor kill him with the poison he put in the fire extinguisher bottles. He knew the danger of the whole ordeal. It was a plot for his death, he knew exactly what it would cause and exactly how it would play out just from his luck. It’s amazing to think about this in-depth.

“42md*)(%^'+'+8rmnfd!@#kcheckthewebfordetails:”(%*!”

“Check the web for details”

Now this is a whole sentence you can make out. It’s a bit strange to think how this would relate to Nagito’s character as a whole.. But it’s interesting to brainstorm what exactly we would have to ‘check the web’ for. I believe this implies the mystery of Komaeda’s personality to study and understand him more not only as a person, but as a whole.. Someone in need of love. Someone who has multiple things wrong with him and on the verge of death.. only wanting to be understood. And the only, only person to do that? Hajime.

“Seriouslypissingmeoff+hellan1ce2icAntb3l3ves0methlngg00dl1keth1sisonly$102s0happy+~=~+1tss0happyOrz”

“Seriously pissing me off”

hellan1ce “Hell and / on ice”

icAntb3l3ves0methlngg00dl1keth1sisonly$102s0happy+~=~+1tss0happy “I can’t believe something good is only $ (Money) / so happy” “It’s so happy”

“Seriously pissing me off”: What exactly is pissing him off? Many things. So many things he cannot control in his life. Not only people, but himself. He cannot control his own mind. How torturous could it be to be helpless against yourself? Honestly.. only he could understand that. There’s much speculation I’m thinking that could be the root for this.. but that’s my take on it.

hellan1ce “Hell and / on ice”: Hell on Ice is a novel by Edward Ellsberg. “Based on a true story: the thrilling tale of a ship’s 1879 journey to explore the North Pole—and the crew’s desperate attempt to escape an Arctic ice pack.” Now, the significance of this possibly being related to Nagito’s past experiences may be a bit.. skeptical. This may have no meaning at all, but this story relating to Nagito’s past experiences with life and death situations may have a tie.. I’m not exactly sure. I’m not saying that he was ever apart of this experience, obviously not. Just the tie of life vs. death is all I can muster from this.

icAntb3l3ves0methlngg00dl1keth1sisonly$102s0happy+~=~+1tss0happy “I can’t believe something good is only $ (Money) / so happy” “It’s so happy”: This is interesting. His take on money and happiness. Although he was kidnapped, obtaining a lottery ticket and gaining millions of dollars, it never went towards his happiness. He is amazed to think that some people in the world could ever think money is happiness. Again, his longing for love and happiness is shown here.. He desires it so badly and the only person to ever show him happiness and love was Hajime: the one he automatically fell in love with just by Hajime treating him with kindness. It’s very sad to think about..

“Ah, you guysWstillthinkyou're n0tg0nad13ors0m3th1ngWWWstopitstopitd0ntmst0p12”

Ah, you guysWstillthinkyou're n0tg0nad13ors0m3th1ng “Ah, you guys still think you’re not gonna die or something?”

stopitstopitd0ntmst0p “Stop it stop it don’t stop”

Ah, you guysWstillthinkyou're n0tg0nad13ors0m3th1ng “Ah, you guys still think you’re not gonna die or something?”: This is.. depressing.. Not only is this whole quote from his last video message, but it’s.. so depressing.. His acceptance of his death has gone so far that in his mind, he really wants to push others to accept their deaths as well. It may be the sad truth that death will eventually come to all, but it’s very sad.. Nagito’s character is based on sad, sad events and things to make him.. him.

stopitstopitd0ntmst0p “Stop it stop it don’t stop”: There’s a contradictory statement in here.. After so many pleads of ‘stop it’, then there is ‘don’t stop’. Or, maybe it could be interpreted as ‘It doesn’t stop’.. Either way.. A last plead for help. It’s very saddening to think about.. The continuous befall of Nagito’s life, continuous, continuous, continuous torture and sadness in his life.. It won’t ever stop. No matter the good luck, there will always be bad.. It’s what he’s so afraid of with Hinata’s well-being around him.. as well as others. It’s.. very sad to hear his pleas for help at the last moment before the screen fades away..

I hope you enjoyed reading my speculation and analysis.. It’s probably not good speculation.. but I studied a bit and looked up some things that were.. interesting, to say the least.

[imkerfuffled]

30 Day SWTOR OC Challenge Day 4: Mind Matters

Briefly describe your OC’s mental state. Are they neurotypical or neuroatypical? Do they have any mental illnesses or a history with mental illness? How do they handle stress? Are they Force-sensitive or Force-blind? Does this effect their mental state?

Kerfaff has her Shit Together. She is one with the Force, and the Force is with her. She handles stress like it’s a stroll in the park, and when anyone else asks her (often while screaming in panic) how she’s so calm when there’s, say, an army of stormtroopers bearing down on them, she just quotes some ancient Jedi proverb at them. (And then gives them actually helpful tips while she’s taking out the stormtroopers, bc while Jedi proverbs are great for keeping up the Image, she’s fully aware that most of them sound like gibberish at first.) In reality, she’s very good at taking a mental step back and healthily processing her emotions through an objective lens (aka the interpretation of “there is no emotion, there is peace” for Jedi fond of mental stability) and with all the experience she has, it comes automatically to her now.

The one thing she doesn’t handle like the emotionally mature adult that we all wish we could be is her semi-unacknowledged case of minor PTSD, which tends to flare up whenever she has any time off. There’s the nightmares, the hyperarousal (it means feeling keyed up, being constantly on alert, etc. not anything related to sex), the avoidance (as much as she can while she’s still fighting the war, mostly manifesting as avoiding thinking about the PTSD), the guilt, the helplessness… And instead of seeking help, she bottles it all up, and pushes it aside, and keeps slogging through because “the Republic needs me” and “if I don’t, more people will die” (guilt guilt guilt guilt). She’s not even 100% sure if she actually has PTSD, or if she’ll get better after the war is over, though Lt. Iresso is pretty sure that won’t be the case.

Because she already knows so many techniques to calm and regulate emotions, she’s been able to sort of treat herself as the proto-PTSD develops, so it’s not as bad as it could be. On the other hand, as the constant, prolonged stress keeps piling up, her ability to control her emotions so well is progressively deteriorating. For now, she has it managed just well enough that it doesn’t put her performance in the field at serious risk (aka she forces herself, with all her considerable willpower, to not be outwardly—or at least obviously—affected by it during battle), but it’s like a damn with the pressure slowly building, and one day she knows it’s going to burst. She just hopes the war will end before that happens and valkorion doesn’t come to fuck shit up instead.

[solo1y]

Why Are American Tourists So Annoying?

Having lived in America for many years, I can understand why Americans act the way they do when on holidays in Ireland. Irish people automatically interpret all the leprechaun stuff as stereotypical gibberish (and if you’re living in Ireland, it is!), but America is composed of an immigrant population, and they have no cultural anchors. Irish people are surrounded by Irish stuff all the time, like a goldfish in water. The idea of pointing out of that they’re in water seems redundant.

That’s not true of Americans. There is nothing around them they can use to anchor their culture, so in essence they are forced to completely reconstruct their culture based on what they think they know about it. When it gets to second-generation immigrants who have never seen their homeland, they base everything (without realising it) on stories their parents told them, or things they’ve heard on television or stuff they’ve just made up.

The fact that these constructions are fundamentally inaccurate is secondary to their practical function: to maintain communities based on culture in an alien environment. In American, this is true whether your heritage is Chinese, Russian, Irish or Nigerian. Then one day, one of these guys meets an actual Irish person or goes to actual Ireland and they find out that we all think he’s an asshole. Try to see things from his point of view instead of reflex-trashing him.

Related: Tips for Americans visiting Ireland

[kansascityhappenings]

Impostor signs gibberish at Seminole Heights police conference about serial murders

Watch Video

TAMPA, Fla. — A phony sign language interpreter made it impossible for the deaf community to understand a Florida police news conference on Nov. 28. Police arrested Howell Donaldson in the Seminole Heights homicides case. The sign language interpreter only signed gibberish.

“She was standing there twisting her hands back and forth. I could tell automatically that interpreters don’t do that,” said Betti Bonni, a certified deaf interpreter.

Derlyn Roberts showed up at Tampa Police that night. Police Chief Brian Dugan spoke about the capture of the serial killer suspect, while Roberts faked sign language.

“Most of the time it just looked like she was signing but not using actual signs,” said USF professor Rachelle Settambrino. “When she was spelling words out, she wasn’t spelling anything at all. They were just gibberish more than anything.”

What made things worse? A mother of one of the victims, Monica Hoffa, was at the presser and needed the interpreter.

“I know the deaf mother of one of the victims’ of the serial killer. She was standing right there and the interpreter was signing in a way that was incomprehensible,” Bonni said.

A spokesperson for TPD said he didn’t do his due diligence. He did not question Roberts when she showed up as an ASL interpreter. The city relies on a pre-paid contractor for interpreters, and police assumed it sent her to them.

“We have so many interpreting agencies and proficient skilled interpreters here, where did this person come from and why did they not vet her appropriately?” Settambrino asked.

Roberts has a past with fraud. She has several fraud arrests on her record. One conviction landed her in prison.

“Really the trust there is destroyed at that point, so who can we rely on,” Settambrino said.

Tampa Police said they had a different interpreter the next morning at another media conference. An employed contractor sent the next interpreter.

A Tampa Police spokesperson said he doesn’t know why Roberts posed as an interpreter. Roberts has not returned a comment.

Police said what she did isn’t a crime. It’s an ethical violation.

The-CNN-Wire & © 2017 Cable News Network, Inc., a Time Warner Company. All rights reserved.

from FOX 4 Kansas City WDAF-TV | News, Weather, Sports http://fox4kc.com/2017/12/06/impostor-signs-gibberish-at-seminole-heights-police-conference-about-serial-murders/

from Kansas City Happenings https://kansascityhappenings.wordpress.com/2017/12/06/impostor-signs-gibberish-at-seminole-heights-police-conference-about-serial-murders/