#that's nothing against them as people it's just kind of my academic beef. i am arrian vagueblogging at quintus curtius rufus

[ihavedonenothingright]

Important context: I know a lot of people on here are too young to remember this (and I wouldn't know if it weren't for my very nerdy parents) but grok was just kinda nerd slang for a while? Stranger in a Strange Land isn't all that obscure of a book, and a lot of Gen X nerds I know will just insert 'grok' into casual conversation as a way to indicate that they deeply and intuitively understand whatever you're talking about. I don't see it used as commonly by younger nerds, but it has its own existence as a slang term outside of the book itself. Calling it "that word from that one '70s book about a martian who founds a sex cult" is like calling the term ansible "that word from that one '60s book about an alien planet with sex churches" in that not only does it diminish the broader usage of the term, it also derogatorily emphasizes the erotic components of the novel in a way I find moralistic. It's fine to dislike the book or think Heinlein was weird, but I don't find the idea of ridiculing or critiquing books on the sole merit of "contains erotica" all that insightful. Nor do I think the erotic components are the most important part of Stranger in a Strange Land.

Basically, Musk chose to call the AI Grok because he was hoping to appeal to older nerds by invoking his own nerd street cred. It's like how Siri is programmed to respond to "I am your father," and a whole bunch of other random pop culture phrases; Silicon Valley tech bros want you to feel a sense of kinship and connection to them so that you'll continue to buy their products. This is not really a "Musk is a weird guy who reads weird books" moment, it's a "Musk wants your parents' money and approval, and so is spouting nerd culture references to get it" moment.

(Also I know this is off-topic, but please if you enjoy OSP, go read the books and myths and history they summarize for yourself. They exaggerate for comedic effect, but even outside of that, they're literally just two people and sometimes they get things wrong. I cannot tell you how many people I've met at classics conventions—usually kids—who parrot OSP jokes about The Aeneid back at me about how "Vergil stole everything from Homer." And I'm not the only one in academia who's had to give disclaimers at the start of certain classes that amount to "No, Rome did not 'copy' Greek mythology" because between OSP and Rick Riordan, that's the message a lot of people have gotten. I like them, and I like their videos, but if you're interested in the subjects they cover, please look into them on your own too. It's fun, I promise.)

so does anyone else realize that elon musk's new jerkoff image-creating AI is named after that word from that one 70s sci fi book about a martian who founds a sex cult or was i the only one who watched overly sarcastic religiously as a child

[sidenotelife]

A match day running diary

A running diary of the day when I find out where I will do my residency training (post-graduate medical training). For those not familiar with the medical training process, briefly, medical students send out applications for post-graduate medical training to become board certified physicians, and this occurs sometime in the fall of senior year. Then over the winter medical students interview with these programs, and then in February all the progams rank the students they want and the students rank the programs they want. This all gets thrown into a computer somewhere that optimizes all the rank lists and spits out assignments for students and employees for residency programs. This post is a running diary of March 15th, the day we get our residency assignments. This post is loosely based on a true story.

7:27 AM. Depart breakfast at Sunrise Bistro. Great corn beef hash. Would highly recommend. 

8:55 AM. The costume theme for match day was “fictional characters” so we decided to dress up as son’s favorite thing which is Thomas the Train. Wife painted these shirts. Pretty legit. 

9:10 AM. Prepare vegetarian chili in crockpot for maximum efficiency. I found a recipe that suggested putting quinoa in vegetarian chili to give it a little extra volume to it. I also put in my fave secret ingredient which is Dr. Pepper. 

9:28 AM. Kids + Costumes ready. 

9:28 AM. Son: Can I see the picture? 

9:43 AM. Ken costume ready. I had to cut out a v so you could see my Sir Topham Hatt tie. Wife did not approve on my t-shirt cutting job. Can you blame her. 

10:07 AM. Walking to Charleston Music Hall with family and friend. 

Friend: Can’t wait to cheer really loud when you walk across the stage. 

Ken: Wait I’m not walking across the stage. 

Friend: *Massive disappointment* What why?

Ken: I don’t like the attention. Also I don’t like things with lots of people. Introvert probs. 🤷‍♂️

11:56 AM. Kids getting too crazy. Break out emergency Belgian waffles. It is truly an art to keep kids quiet and contained at any event. 

12:00 PM. Open envelopes... Sioux Falls Family Medicine! 

Hmm. I don’t look thrilled here. I think the exact emotion I had was how-should-I-feel-about-this, if that can be considered an emotion. Sidenote - Before I go further I feel the need to explain myself. I don’t want this to be conceived as disappointment that I matched where I matched. Sioux Falls was our #2 choice and honestly the only reason I didn’t rank it #1 was because of the weather. It is truly my privilege to have the opportunity to train there, but I feel it is of importance to analyze this emotion. This how-should-I-feel-about-this emotion. 

Match has, for better or worse, come to represent the culmination of the whole med school experience. If you match at the place you wanted, your #1 program, your emotions are those of elation. You feel everything was worth it. All those days suffering in the library, all the shit you had to take from residents that were out of line, all of it. If you don’t match at a desired place or worse yet, if you don’t match and have to scramble, it’s a nightmare. But I worry that this is an oversimplification of the process, and I worry that med school has become nothing more than a way to ensure you get a desireable job than a place where you learn to care for sick people. I fear this sentiment about match is driving the Step 1 mania. (Currently being covered beautifully by @jpcarmody on his blog, The Sheriff of Sodium). 

I think my emotions are also complicated by a personal change of heart I had sometime during the end of graduate school and the beginning of medical school. For so long I had worshipped at the throne of academia. When I came to medical school I dreamed of becoming the dean of my own medical school. When I started graduate school I dreamed of having a 30-person HHMI-funded lab/machine that would draw the envy of graduate students and postdocs everywhere. For so long I dreamed of my match day when one day I would announce that I was going to a sexy program like Stanford or Harvard or Duke. But I think during graduate school I started to understand the reality of academia, and especially the kind of academia that incentivizes the Cell/Nature/Science/NEJM rat race. My greatest frustration was that it was so hard to be ethical in academia. The academic system is fueled by the C/N/S/NEJM rat race, which in turn is fueled by stretching your data to look like it’s saying more than it actually does. It’s also fueled by outright lying and people producing fake data to get the data to fit the elegant hypothesis. I hated seeing mentors take advantage of students and postdocs, milking every last bit of productivity out of your underlings because that was truly the only way to survive. By looking out for yourself at all costs. I love science but I didn’t want to condone this sort of philosophy. I wanted to pursue physician-science in a way where I was not at the mercy of for-profit journal editors. I wanted to live in a world where we as a research team pursued science out of a desire to further the pursuit of knowledge and not just the next publication with a big impact factor. Maybe I was imagining a pipedream but it just didn’t feel like the right thing for me to jump into the traditional route of padding my resume at a top 5 med school. 

When I went back to med school for my clinical years, I initially felt tentative but still willing to enter my hat into this foray. Gradually several little things gearshifted me off this track, most prominently working with one attending in particular. I worked with this attending during my addiction psychiatry rotation, and I watched him work for six weeks. He is a genius, but I admired him for more than that. More than any other physician I’ve ever met, the compassion he had for his patients was palpable. You could feel his frustration with the system that made it hard for physicians to help patients. You could see the depths to which he pushed himself in order to provide true patient-oriented care, and not just the cheap talk that often gets thrown around. I acknowledge that some of these tendencies are dangerous, and risky, but it’s also beautiful. That’s the sort of feeling that fundamentally pushed me into going to medical school. Other people’s suffering pained my heart and I had to do something to relieve this pain, if only to relieve my own pain. I don’t know exactly what happened to this attending, but he no longer attends on the addicion psychiatry floor. As far as I know he’s taking a break from seeing patients. My best guess is he burned out and gave up his fight against the system. Hopefully I’m wrong. I don’t know. Frankly, I’m too afraid to know the answer. But when I saw that someone who had such compassion and such raw talent couldn’t make it in academic medicine, I knew I had to do something different. I saw that something different in Family Medicine. I saw that this specialty, one that is treated by some as the specialty that you pursue when you can’t get good enough Step 1 scores to pursue what you actually want to do, I saw this specialty as the one that could offer a true path to patient-centered care. I saw the flexibility offered by the diverse skillset you could obtain during family medicine residency. I saw the potential for real long-lasting relationships with patients. I saw the value in being a generalist in a medical world that’s becoming overpopulated with specialists. I’m still convinced family medicine is the right specialty for me, and I feel it offers the possibility for me to pursue physician-science my way. Yet, there’s also a part of myself that’s grieving that I didn’t match at Harvard or Stanford, that I’m not working in the HHMI-funded lab, that my home isn’t the building with beautiful modern architecture looking out at the beach. It’s not a part of me that I like but regretably it’s still a part of me, and I think that moment when I opened my match envelope and saw the official match result it was the first moment it was real. I was really choosing to give up the glamors of a top 5 med school to pursue this off-beaten track. Am I crazy? Am I being too self-righteous? Did I make the wrong decision? I think that’s what gave me this feeling. This how-should-I-feel-about-this feeling. 

12:23 PM. Kids too crazy... we need to leave. 

12:57 PM. Get home.

Ken: Kids what do you want for lunch?

Kids: *opens fridge* Dad why is there so much beer?

1:03 PM. Looking up South Dakota-themed food. I remember when I went to interview there I asked them what the most South Dakota food was, and they told me it was Chislic. I don’t know if I’m spelling that right, but basically it’s fried chunks of meat. Sounds pretty legit: 

1:15 PM. Daughter makes a sign. You may not be able to understand this sign so let me do a little interpreting. At the top it says South Dakota Bound, except the BOUND is backwards. Then the square-looking thing is the shape of South Dakota. Sidenote - The little divot at the bottom right corner kind of looks like Florida, which kind of makes the state of South Dakota look like a mini-version of America. The thick blue lines are water falls, which we drew because Daughter really wanted to draw something in Sioux Falls, so I said water falls! The four faces below that were commonly misinterpreted as Ken, Wife, Daughter, and Son but actually it’s Mount Rushmore. 

1:57 PM. Son goes to rest time. Daughter cleaning up blankets from floor. Asking me, “Why do I have to be cinderella? Why do I have to clean the bathroom and the living room and the kitchen??” So basically we are raising a little martyr. 

2:30 PM. Wife is already looking at real estate. I think she knows the stats for every single rental property in Sioux Falls. 🤣

4:13 PM. Recruit kids to help. Before this they were carrying cans of beer which was even funnier. 👶👧🍻

5:13 PM. Commence low country boil. I’ve always loved the idea of the low country boil and I’ve always wanted to do one but for one it’s real expensive to buy all the supplies, and for two I didn’t have the proper equipment for it. Fortunately my friend lent me his turkey frier and burner which made for the perfect low country boil setup. In retrospect, the low country boil was one of the funnest party meals I’ve ever made and I would recommend it 10 out of 10 times. At the same time, shrimp is one of my least favorite seafoods and I don’t love to eat low country boil. I feel like this makes sense. 

Ok, those are the last pics I have so I’ll wrap up this post. Shoutout to everyone who was feeling how-should-I-feel-about-this. 

See you on the other side,

From ken

[batpadman]

Top: (From Left) Jake, Hanna, Chris and Jak Gunson, Me

2nd from Top: Rob and Tricia Greenwell

3rd Row Left: (From Left) Mick Hortle, Myself, Helen Hortle.

3rd Row Right: Tony Selvas and Me.

4th Row: UTAS Cricket Club Crowd!

5th Row Left: Jimmy Hortle and Carter Hansen

5th Row Middle: Andrew Kealy

5th Row Right: Jesse Greenwood and Mauro Saracino.

Strangers

As I recline in my seat a few thousand feet in the air, my mind cannot help but wander back to the time when I was travelling in the opposite direction. Agitated, fretful and ill at ease, the state of my mind could not have been further from how it is today. The people close to me would tell you that this is how I had been for a while. Quiet; more so than usual. Smiling less. Quick to anger and take offense. Unlike myself.

The cricket season had been successful yet not impressive enough to demand attention. Cricket seemed a futile pursuit. A demanding academic year combined with a gruelling summer of cricket had left me, to quote Tolkien, “thin, sort of stretched, like butter spread over too much bread”. Weary and bitter, a journey to the other side of the world was a gamble that could have gone either way.

I took the red pill. There was no going back. A place full of Strangers; far from the comforting presence of my parents that I had taken for granted my entire life. It was the best thing I ever did.

I could write several thousand words about Tasmania. About stunning views of the Derwent river round every corner in Hobart. About sweet, delicious Huon Valley apples. About the serene quiet of Bruny Island (disturbed only by the sounds of the wildlife as it comes to life at dusk). About the regal beauty of Port Arthur haunted by the ghosts of its past and the white sand beaches of the East Coast that stretch out as far as the eye can see. Yet in talk of greatness, the island in all its beauty pales in comparison to its inhabitants; the “Strangers” who transformed my outlook on life through friendship and random acts of kindness. Here are just a few of them:-

The Gunsons

Chris, Hanna, Jak, Jake, Nicholas and Thomas heard some foreign bloke was looking for a place to stay. Without meeting him, they agreed to let this stranger into their home and into their lives. They offered me a shoulder when I was distressed were there to celebrate with me when I was happy. They are family to me and I am so glad to have been a part of their lives. The memories, of evenings spent whiling away the time with good food and conversation (and the occasional game of late night table tennis with Jak) will be cherished.

The Hortles

My stay with Mick and Helen Hortle was short but no less pleasurable. Their home, much like its inhabitants, is full of character; unique mementos from their travels seem to give the place a personality of its own. It was during this week that I was exposed to how good vegetables can be. The meal Mick prepared for Jimmy’s birthday was a foodie’s fantasy. Every single ingredient (except for the duck) grown in their own back yard! It was an honour to be a part of the family occasion. Discussion ranged from topics such as feminism in Pakistan to the environmental impact of fish farming on the East Coast of Tasmania. One would expect nothing less from the parents of an Oxford scholar!

The Greenwells

I was introduced to Rob, Tricia and Charlie Greenwell by Paul, the club president (see below). I wasn’t the first stranger to be a beneficiary of Greenwell hospitality and I certainly won’t be the last. They gave me an all access pass to the veritable treasure of knowledge and experience that they have accumulated over the years. A life lived to the fullest and a journey to success that was choppy, but more exciting because of it. I hope that one day I will get another shot at trying to steal a game off Rob at squash or another epic battle against Charlie. Maybe when they set sail on a trip round the world…

The Selvas Family (Mair, Tony and the rest)

Kindness is letting an outsider stay in your spare bedroom for a night or two. But then, what do you call it if someone you’ve never met drives two hours to fetch you from the airport, drives along the coast for 8 hours to show you the sights, feeds you, and then to top it all off, gives you a member’s ticket for the Boxing Day test match? Is there a better word? If there is I haven’t found it. Twelve-year-old me won’t believe it but when I think back to Melbourne, it’s not the Boxing Day test match that comes to mind but the day before. Thank you, Tony and Mair for an unforgettable Christmas!

Paul Mc Namara

Paul picked me up from the airport all those days ago when I first got to Hobart. We were always going to get on well because of our shared love of cricket. I was most impressed by Paul’s relentless optimism. He had something positive to say about every situation and had the ability to put himself in people’s shoes and see things from their perspective. As president of the club, his role was challenging, stressful and required a level of dedication that few understood. As a friend, I could see how much it affected him. Yet he continued to volunteer his time for little thanks and through it all, his demeanour never changed. That sort of fortitude is certainly something for me to aspire to.

Andrew Kealy

Never have I ever met someone who can shrug off a 5fer quite like Andrew Kealy, but I guess that comes with the territory when you get one every week! I did a lot of dirt time in Oz but it could have been a lot worse if it hadn’t been for Keals demolishing entire teams by himself. All with a humble grin one simply does not associate with Aussie pacemen. In some hidden corner of the world, there is probably someone who has something negative to say about Keals. But that person belongs to the same category as Bigfoot and the Loch Ness Monster. Until I see them in person, I won’t believe they exist. Thanks Andrew for introducing me to the Aussie cricketer lifestyle.

The Fine Gentlemen of the University of Tasmania Cricket Club

Thank you Mauro, Freezer, and Carter for all the throwdowns and wangers. Wish you a long and prosperous first grade future at UTAS and beyond.

Thank you Jayde, Gordo and Grubby for backing me all the way, even when I didn’t look like scoring a run.

Thank you, Jesse, Andrew Kerr, Jimmy, Sam Leon and Noah, for your help and advice.

A big thank you to every single person at the club. From 1st grade down to the U12s that I coached, for taking me in and accepting me as one of your own. For the beef sausages and the conversations.

At the risk of being unnecessarily melodramatc, I’d just like to say that my winter in Tasmania has restored my faith in people. The chip on my shoulder has been surgically removed and my former self has been restored. I begin the English summer refreshed; ready to take life on with renewed vigour but more importantly, with a smile on my face. For this and so much more, I am extremely grateful.

I hope one day, to return to that place full of strangers, a stranger no more.

[rennyji]

June 4th tweets...onwards...

June 4th tweets...onwards...

Can’t emphasize this enough...I don’t know the alleged group of kids, the girl, or any of the other orchestrators...that being said, if it’s not directly from me, probably not true. To state the obvious, how do you know as much as you do, about your best friend?-

-Through interacting with them directly. Who else would know things better than the two people involved? I think the stalkerish kids of the past or orchestrators figured out that I just wanted to study IN “college.” I mean there’s my stalked habits, my writings. -

-I think I’m pretty clear. I think some wanted to pose a hindrance to studying. Don’t quote me on this, but I think I was broadcasted as not liking noise. Why? To get the randomly hateful following to make noise. Always from afar, and never understood the reason for the spite.-

-Probably the reasoning behind getting me to hear sounds in the house. A group of kids empowered, perpetuated by established individuals of a school. Then the continual teaming up against me as a school, a city, a country...the massive game is a hate crime...

moving on...-

- for a while, you think all of this is one angry girl...but why? how is she mind controlling or getting people across places to do her bidding? I mean the no studying, tons of noise, wanting you to cry, all girls not talking to you, boys and girls making out in front of you...-

- this whole thing about friends,...why am I in need of friends? sounds like something an angry girl would say... i mean if someone's my friend, cool, but if not, i'm not on any initiative to make the world my friend, as this program/"situation" puts out... because the orchestrators attract attention, i gotta tell people things like the obvious (about my take on friendship, relationships, etc) amidst rumors...-

- and another thing...be it the girl, kids, the school- is it because i complained about you that you're having me write away my life for 11+ years? Satisfied? I mean all of this seems much. When the party school got involved, a man with the last name "Berg", said, so that I can-

- hear, "oh we went the wrong direction. we were helping them?!  but you can't talk to him about it, cuz one of the school VP's forbade you from speaking to faculty at the school about your "situation." This was a professor speaking. So was there a girl? Kids? Are the professors-

- going crazy and acting on your suspicions of kids? Was there a girl/kids? Are the professors actually talking to these kids, making the kid's situation worse, and realizing they have to legitimize their actions of inadvertently furthering the kids agenda of ruining me?-

- i mean WTF?! why are these people against me and screwing with the people of a person's world? I MEAN YOUR ENTIRE WORLD! Regarding the professors, I would sit in their faculty area and study. Never caused any problem. Why are they talking 2strange kids?! If the have the nerve-

- of saying, so you can hear, that they went the wrong direction, why can't they listen to your request of making things "natural?" or back to the way things were, before these kids?!

next thing...

-I wonder...would anyone be jealous or envious of my position in all this? If that’s the case, ur not being told the whole story. The orchestrators don’t tell you what they do to me out of fearing the crowds. -

-I’m pretty sure a filtered version of my writing-in favor of the orchestrators-is what’s being passed around. Back with my 2012 twitter and now, I never could understand why anyone would feel anything negative, as a reaction. Regarding money and opportunity in this, in 2012, -

-for the school and the upstate city of Albany teaming up on one side against me and then causing chaos on the day of final exams in 2012, I was going to sue them for my tuition money. -

-When being u, u think of the people in the apartment area or the surrounding city, u figure, despite instruction following, they don’t know any better,and on some unknown premise, they think they’re “helping” by never talking 2 u. So how can you be mad at an entire city then?-

-You then think, to confront this, you gotta hold the source accountable, for misleading all these links in the chain. Despite the world turning Upside down, my beef/squabble/whatever, is with the ones in charge for screwing me and putting this sin on everyone’s heads. -

-This too, I wrote in my hacked and possibly relayed police complaint. -

-I remember, coming back from the party school, I started submitting my tale through a series of character limited crime tips, kind of like my series of backward tweets. -

-As I’d write in the crime tips in my old house, traffic on my street would increase with suspicious looking youth, as it coincided. Years later, I remember when I was at my allergist, I told a saint of an Irish woman of a nurse a tale about emails I sent a girl. -

-No offense to them,  but I think they were talking to someone over what I told her. Not even she could tell me what was actually happening. Good people do this too. It overloads the brain, and everything you figure. becomes fair game.-

-That’s just it, it’s a game. You think it’s fun. America is all about fun, not compassion. Life in general is not like, say India,especially now. Here life continues, people wear masks, get vaccinated. There life came to a pause and people die left and right.-

-You as a people take part in this nonsense, cuz in one or more regards, ur life is perfect, otherwise why not see the whole thing as bull sh*t?-

-For the second chance at a college with a new major, I told my parents Id take a loan, & they volunteered a private apartment and delivery of food, so that I could study in peace. 50 grand & making everything natural was my goal or what I sought from the, then, orchestrators,-

-to overcome my wasted school tuition loan. Admission into a solid business school was what I requested. It never amazes me, that despite me explicitly saying what I’m after and experiencing, you continue this illegal activity. -

-After 11 years, perhaps the orchestrators realize 50 grand and restoration to natural, was pretty reasonable. Now it will be much more, for placing someone else’s interests over a student’s mental, physical, and academic well being.-

-The money and opportunity I’m seeking? From lawsuits and easy to win. Opportunities? I’ll start domestic and international businesses. -

-Wait till they tell you everything. I think the word for someone, who just does, whatever another says, in slang, is “tool.” Are you a “tool?” Leader or follower? How are you living/showing that? I think some of you enjoy the power over another individual.-

-Some of you like having me in the wrong. It could be due to whatever bias. But for your overall happiness and satisfaction and mine, you got something to say to me, be direct.-

-Doing something from afar or concealing ur true misplaced negativity, elevates me, because in comparison, you have no b*lls. You know how Ive been living for 11+ years? Assuming the worst. -

-I feel, in this case: 

 “Pessimism is the road to take, in order to obtain the fruits of optimism, in one’s reality. 

 I assume, I’m relayed in any/all shape or form all day/everyday, that everyone’s in the know about just about-

-everything. I say “just about,” because I don’t think the orchestrators tell you about my run in with the police, or what they had done to me during my time away from work. Compliance? You practice it for 11+ years. But, be sure I’m grinding the axe.-

-No surprises, no disappointments in the end, due to the aforementioned pessimistic route.. Just actions to take. You know what the sounds do when I write sh*t like this... they play a “oh really I can take it sound...” we’ll see. -

-You screwing with me like this, regarding the people of the world, it indicates you intend to conceal the truth. Like I keep saying, in me understanding this, one of us between the orchestrators and me, is guaranteed to be ruined.-

-If you, the orchestrator or follower, feel any thing negative toward me, why would you want to elevate me, in any regard? Interactions with me should be direct. I’m all ears, and otherwise ready, with 11+ years and mankind’s betrayal fueling me. -

-I may not be as strong as before, but I go into things, having lost it all, nothing to gain, and With 100% of me. With what I believed to be the FBI leaving me to rot, the local police not helping, my school not helping, the school’s VP and Conflict Resolution not helping, -

-and me not being consulted about this cr*p about people acting oddly, I used to carry a baseball bat in my car, if any of these instruction following idiots took things too far. My father, in denying anything’s going on, hid it, years ago.-

-You come at me with cr*p, it will be reciprocated, win, lose, big, small, whatever...a shove, a kick, end of day, is a shove and a kick...so long as I get a scratch in, I can rest peacefully. -

-Now if that bothers any of you, does it even make sense for you to be bothered when ur taking the initiative to bother someone, who wants you to take no extra effort, and leave things natural and possibly even a little MYOB: mind ur own business?-

-In hindsight, seeing these idiot skinny little freshman at this party school, thinking they’re doing something for you and you should worship them for it, when they’re actually turning things upside down for the orchestrators: It compounds: they’re kids, old people, -

-they’re idiots, they’re stupid, don’t know any better, being manipulated...then they follow the random instructions, some even mocking you like they have power over you...you wait till they go that extra mile against you and beat the cr*p out of them.. -

-But it never came 2 that. I mean u can only push a person so far..u talk, write, 11 years, illegal things happen, the law doesn’t protect u, u find ur on ur own, &thinking, grow a pair &come at me. In the end who’s fault will it be? Mine? 4 being abused &lied to for 11 years?-

-In every endeavor, from having to walk barefoot when the police came, to what was done to me while away from work, February to May...I was compliant throughout everything...in the end pointless. No mistakes on my part.-

Moving on from irritation,-

-This whole thing, 11+ years and all? For a while, I kept thinking, all of this is the girl network of a girl I “knew of.” -

-What Im calling the “girl network” is a network of women friends spreading &sharing things thru cell phones &texts &maybe even word of mouth, (If shes not involved in anyway, its not fair 2her, 2give her spotlight,when all of thisNonsense should not have been publicly relayed.)-

-Then this “1day magic” or results!- never really did make sense. But the interesting thing is, it would seem the orchestrators talk 2a group that has their own intentions &doesn’t know me. I feel like everyone is acting like this girl, in her indirect means, from long ago.-

-Was “not being direct with me” broadcasted as the “way to go with me? It’s like everything from one time period just continued for all ages. One group, whoever they are, brings in their cr*p, to “legitimize what I did not want, by making everyone else do it.” -

-I’m all about being direct, and natural. And then, there’s the school. Trying to legitimize what transpired at their school, with the instilling of instructions beyond the city of their school, and into my hometown of Yonkers. -

-They brought this nonsense to the country of my background in India. WRT Indian women, while women as a whole do not talk to me at this moment in time because the orchestrators tell them, (and while I’m open to all women and men )for friendships and whatever , -

some Indian women passing by,seemed angry when I was talking 2my friend, Nicole, or playing cards withHer. Thru this indirect anger, am I supposed 2understand this? Do any of u realize, this is all against myWill &what I know is thru my own brain processing &remembering things?-

-The orchestrators, this program, "this situation" perpetuates nonsense of the past, by having me talk about things over and over, through screwing with the natural setting of my environment, where people are susceptible to following the orchestrator's instructions...-

-If theyre broadcasting me as dropDeadGorgeous, I accept what Im today &what Im not. Stick with(w/) the present, what u learn from a direct interaction w/me, being direct w/me, -

-being natural w/me (coming 2 think or act based on what u experience upon seeing me, &/or from whats directly from me.)

On a separate note/section-food for thought: -

The orchestrators, or these kids, or possibly a girl from long ago-I dunno...I don’t understand this hold you have over all these people. How do you get someone to do something because you want them to?-

-I may be in the mind cr*p, buts it’s the people of my world who do something because someone wants them to. When I give insight upon doing something that’s right for you, right for your life, without caring about what others-

-think, or about cultures and traditions, you won’t adhere to it or take it seriously. You probably pass over it as “nice sounding.” Someone says to make a face or something, you do it. I mean it’s like asking someone to bend over and you doing it. -

-Why? But clearly all of you, are you, and I’m singled out as me.

and now, normal tweets: -

I feel law enforcement should place compassion over the their indulgence of authority over others...

Lamb gyros with tzatziki sauce from local Greek restaurant or a Greek rack of lamb...epic...

Sodastream is a great way to make your own soda. It’s healthy and tasty and sugar free. You just add these strawberry like ,blackberry like, watermelon like , pineapple like,  etc. flavors...a good water substitute...

i saw a girl propose to a guy on facebook...i cannot imagine a girl even asking a guy out, let alone, proposing...such is real life vs. the media...

Being an American should be a privileged label requiring compassion and the Golden Rule. You’re not just anyone, you are an American. Rise to the occasion, rather than indulging and being plugged into the Matrix of your world. Expand ur mind, gain insight. -

-These people involved in this should be ashamed to call themselves Americans. Would you allow this on ur kid or loved on?

Wipex Fitness Equipment Wipes from Amazon - easy way to wipe down sweat from exercise machines in your home, that you finished using...

Heard of calm app, headspace app? try yoga international dot com or art of living courses...

The party school hacking my police complaint & telling students involved &students theyre talking to,that theyre in the complaint, increases the random vendetta of these kids, & gives them an incentive to mess up &control ur world..serious mishandling bySchool acting asPolice...

- now the professors, kids, or whoever the orchestrators are, are trying to save their a*ses from the content of the complaints, by legitimizing their past actions, through having the world take part, and making things about making a point with hacking people, computers, etc.

[soccernetghana]

Ben Nti 'drags journalist Otuo Acheampong through the mire' to set record straight

[caption id="attachment_807581" align="aligncenter" width="1024"] Ben Nti[/caption] Ex-Asante Kotoko administrative manager Ben Nti  has revived his feud with Otuo Acheampong by publishing incendiary article to proof earlier allegations the veteran journalist is a mischievous character.  In his piece titled: 'Sometimer Otuo Acheampong's Delusion of Grandeur !', the soft-spoken administrator attacked the personality of the Oyerepa FM General Manager. Nti described the experienced journalist as a fan of Hearts of Oak who was interested in 'destabilizing' Kotoko. Below is the full text of Ben Nti's reply to his 'foe  Sometymer Otuo Acheampong. 1.Ever since I made my first media appearance in 2020 on Saturday at Hello FM I have listened to, and read, Mr Sometimer Otuo Acheampong's desperate attempt to rescue a bit of his dwindling public image. He's been all over the media space fruitlessly defending himself before Kotoko supporters suggesting, albeit unsuccessfully, that he has the interest of Kotoko at heart probably more than myself. For a well known Hearts of Oak supporter Sometimer cannot claim to ‘love Kotoko more’ than I Ben Nti. Unless Mr Otuo Acheampong is suggesting that he has denounced his well known Hearts of Oak affiliation from his Legon days. He only seems to find his ‘love Kotoko’ when he is engaged in incessant insults and criticism of Kotoko Managements whenever they do not ‘play ball’ with him. He sees everything wrong with each Kotoko administration so long us he does not personally benefit financially. I am wondering which of the following two issues motivates him the most to attack or not to attack every Kotoko administration Personal financial gain? A dream to see Kotoko destabilized influenced by his Hearts of Oak affiliations I am also extremely surprised at how hard Mr Otuo Acheampong took the few words I uttered on the short radio interview. For someone who has made it his lifetime professional focus to insult various sporting personalities in the name of practicing journalism, generating one self-serving rumor or another in attempt to tarnish the hard won reputation of accomplished individuals, I least expected to get under his skin with the few facts I threw out on the said program. For his information the way he felt during and after my interview is exactly how people with higher personal accomplishments and intellect than Sometimer feel whenever he hides behind the rhetoric of pleasing Kotoko fans and, makes them the object of his insults and unwarranted criticisms. Just like he did to previous Kotoko administrations. Just like he is doing to Kwame Kyei. He who feels it knows it. Now, before I proceed let me clarify that my interventions on that radio show had nothing to do with any beef that the Dr Sarpong administration allegedly had with Mr Otuo Acheampong. He has an exaggerated opinion of his importance. My only worry is that the current spate of attacks on the person of the Chairman of Kotoko orchestrated through specific media houses was becoming one too many and did not bode well for the stability of Kotoko. If Sometimer’s name came up it is only because he has such history. If Dr Sarpong’s name came up it is because he was one such person who came under similar ill-advised media campaigns. Several other Kotoko administrations can attest to this. The cycle had began and Kotoko supporters needed to sit up before some misguided elements destroyed Kotoko again. At least, not some known Hearts sympathizer hiding behind journalism and bent on destroying Kotoko if he is not directly benefiting. At least now I am also an ordinary supporter whose interest remains important to Sometimer. At least that’s what he claims. I can also sit in my corner and throw stones. Now let me attempt to address some of the issues Mr Otuo Acheampong raises in his piece titled ‘Ben Nti’s Faux Pas’. I will deal with the points he lists as ‘My Take’ and deal with them accordingly: I am surprised at the weak logic Sometimer pursues in paragraph 1 by suggesting that because Dr Sarpong voluntarily resigned as Kotoko Executive Chairman his resignation could not be attributed to activities of the media. For a man who had spent his lifetime building a reputation based on integrity, the ill-advised orchestrated lies and insults that were being spewed out on platforms created by the likes of Sometimer, getting away from the job ended up protecting his reputation. A lot more should have resigned to protect their image. At least my brother Kwame Baah-Nuakoh had done it long before Dr Sarpong did. You know the common thing linking the two? Reputation and Integrity! I don’t need to mention more than one media person who has been engaged in this clandestine pirate journalism to destabilize Kotoko. I knew one called Sometimer Otuo Acheampong. And that’s why he is the one I referred to. III. Sometimer asks why it has taken me 4 to 5 years to call on Kotoko supporters to be wary of people like him who are always ready to create confusion in Kotoko by calling for the sack of one Kotoko regime or the other. The answer is simple. It has taken Sometimer and the likes 4 to 5 years to start destabilizing another Kotoko administration. I did not hear him criticize the Management of Opoku Nti when supporters cried out that they were under performing. You know why? Sometimer was the de facto CEO of Kotoko ( or Advisor to the CEO). This is something he cannot dispute. Maybe he can show us a tape of his criticism of Opoku Nti’s administration when supporters were crying out. Was he benefitting from Kotoko then so he did not think the supporters’s cry was worth his attention then? Consistency as a journalist is key my friend. In paragraph 4 my friend Sometimer comes back to what he is good at. Rumor-mongering. That I Ben Nti has been promised a route back into Kotoko Management. For the records I resigned from Kotoko. I am fully occupied at my workplace. I am a full time Kotoko Supporter now, just as I was long before Dr Sarpong joined Kotoko as Executive Chairman. I don’t need to be in Kotoko Management to be relevant to Kotoko. Secondly your suggestion that Dr Sarpong is looking for a way back into Kotoko Management is a cheap shot which is below even your low standards. You can do better. To even go on to suggest that you may be a stumbling block to him if he wanted to come back to Kotoko speaks so much about your exaggerated opinion of your own importance in Kotoko affairs. Delusion of grandeur! Please check up the meaning. My reputation as far as Kotoko matters are concerned are intact. Am waiting for you to point out one misconduct on my part during the two times as served in Kotoko Management. You can check from the appointing authorities on my reputation relating to Kotoko. Water-tight! It is instructive to note your long association with Kotoko in the guise of an advisor. I presume that supports my assertion that probably during the Opoku NTI administration you may have been more than an advisor. I will leave the record of your involvement in player transfers during that period and the youth team of Kotoko’s travel to Switzerland for another epistle. Those are facts that will suggest to every well meaning Kotoko supporter that your association with Kotoko is smooth only if you are benefitting financially. Like I said that will be for another day. VII. Sometimer claims that I attempted to parade him against the rank and file of Kotoko supporters and it failed. Just leave the judgment of failure or success to the supporters. That is even if you believe that was my motive. Now my little advise. Dropping your academic qualifications in a public argument does not sound very complimentary. If having academic qualifications translates automatically to knowledge then you would have had no business criticizing some of the people you vehemently demeaned on your platforms. Most of them are better qualified than you. So if I cannot advise you on administration because your have a degree in Public Administration then I am wondering what kind of advice you gave to the long list of Kotoko Chairmen you claim came to you seeking advice. There are not too many that you were better qualified than. Let me conclude that Kotoko supporters should see some of these journalist for who they truly are: opportunists who criticize Kotoko Managers who do not play ball but conveniently keep quiet when they benefit. I am waiting for Sometimer Otuo Acheampong’s response because I have time on my hands. Now I am a full time supporter. I also have the interest of Kotoko at heart. And my target is to stop mercenary media men from destroying Kotoko. Thank you. source: https://ghanasoccernet.com/

[orphans-forest-blog]

If Liberals Really Want to Persuade Conservatives ‘Global Warming’ is Real, They Need to Read This

To Persuade Conservatives 'Global Warming' is Real, Read This

Here we go again... A new bombshell report from the United States government has been released on the issue of "Climate Change," which says that we are all soon going to be destroyed by the impact of rising temperatures. Liberals and the media have, predictably, pounced on the findings as vindication of their already religious-level belief in the Blog9T concept. Meanwhile, conservatives, slow to fully accept the predictions of doom, and President Trump who is overtly disdainful of them, are openly ridiculed by the establishment as being anti-science and, frankly, at best, just plain dumb. I come at this issue from a fairly unusual position. For instance, as a highly-educated conservative who loathes Trump and the anti-intellectualism which has overtaken the Republican Party since his successful 2016 coup, I am extremely open to the idea that our climate is changing considerably, and that man may play a significant role in that development. Adding to this predisposition to accept that science is very real, and that scientists are generally to be trusted, is that my grandfather was a fairly renowned "rocket scientist." To top it off, it was his stubborn unwillingness to accept the scientific conventional wisdom which probably saved our space satellite program from some serious setbacks. To be clear, I am not suggesting that this genetic background gives me some special insight into the validity of climate science. Obviously, it does not. But this heritage does makes me very accepting of any science-based argument which is grounded in logic and evidence. Despite all this, I must admit to something which, if I was part of the media's club of "cool people," would get me kicked out faster than anything other than overt racism or sexism: I do not currently believe that the case for catastrophic man-made Global Warming/Climate Change has been convincingly made. In fact I am offended by the extreme arrogance of those who routinely act like holding such a position is akin to committing blasphemy against some sort of new-age religion. If the proof is so damn overwhelming, then why not just persuade us conservatives with the facts? Contrary to liberal perception, there actually are some sound reasons for the reluctance of many conservatives to buy into cataclysmic climate scenarios. Here are ten of them... A dramatic change in branding: When the name got altered from "Global Warming" to "Climate Change," it felt like we were being scammed and that, because it was still getting very cold in all the places where it should be, liberals simply needed a re-branding which gave them more flexibility. Suddenly, every possible negative weather event could be safely placed under the umbrella of "Climate Change," and there was no longer any way to disprove the theory because, get this, when it gets too cold that's also evidence of "Climate Change"! The climate has always changed: Each summer my family goes to Yosemite National Park where we stay in the valley which was created by a glacier, and which melted well before man could have had any impact. Weirdly, this dramatic cooling and then warming did nothing more detrimental to the environment than create one of the most beautiful places on earth. The data pool is highly overrated: Climatologists tell us all the time that the last few years have been the hottest on record, as if we have been calculating a global temperature in the same fashion since the dawn of man. But we only have a little more than a century's worth of actual temperature data against which to compare. Even then, the data is deceiving because we have only been calculating a "global temperature" in a precise way for, at most, about a generation thanks to extraordinary advances in technology caused by the space program. That short span is the blink of an eye in terms of climate, which has historically changed over hundreds if not thousands of years. While not a perfect comparison, no one would ever think they could predict where the stock market will be in twenty years based on just a few days of trading. Weather/climate hypocrisy: Whenever it gets unseasonably cold and a nonbeliever points this out (like President Trump did regarding this year's chilly Thanksgiving), it is correctly countered that this kind of thinking is illegitimate because "weather" and "climate" are not the same. However, invariably, whenever unusual weather-related events occur (like the recent wildfires here in California [which in my view had nothing to do with "climate change"], and the two devastating hurricanes which hit the southeast earlier this year), this incredibly important winter-time distinction is suddenly conveniently forgotten. It becomes okay to cite climate to explain weather. "The debate is over" argument: The worst way to get conservatives to believe in something is to tell them to shut up and just accept what liberals are telling them because it is so obviously true that there need not be a debate about it. Especially when this conviction is based on the fact that a bunch of academics and major media members, groups made up almost entirely of liberals, have nearly unanimously decided what that truth is, and that literally no one else should even be allowed to publicly question that. Saying "the debate is over" is essentially invitation for debate. Confirmation bias and conflicts of interest: A large part of why the "shut up and go along" tactic fails so spectacularly here with conservatives is that those making that case have obvious conflicts of interest. Climatology is FAR sexier and more lucrative for everyone involved if it is the source of a global doomsday scenario. The entire "industry" is now so invested in this prediction being true that it is perceived as career suicide for any established person to dare to buck prevailing wisdom. When you add to this the fact that, surely by pure coincidence, the solution to this massive and imminent problem sounds like an excuse for implementing global socialism, and it's no mystery why conservatives won't blindly go along. Over-the-top predictions that never seem to come true: Whether because of a desire to create attention for the topic by grossly exaggerating, or because they are just, oddly, really bad at predicting the very future about which they are warning, the forecasting record by the Global Warming/Climate Change people has been mostly horrible. They will tell you that the data indicating increasing temperatures in recent years is a fulfillment of their prophecies, but it is theoretically possible that there is a warming bias in the way that data is being accumulated in this now very modern technological era. Where is the real world impact?: As Walter Mondale famously asked of Gary Hart (via a then-famous Wendy's commercial), "Where's the beef?" If the climate is obviously changing so rapidly, why aren't we seeing clear-cut deviations from what we are used to? As a golfer, if The Masters tournament, held in Georgia the second week of each April because that is the prime of spring, is forced to move to March because of the warmer temperatures, then I will be an instant believer. However, until then I need something more than just biased reports on the seemingly ever-changing state of the polar icecaps. Doom is always just far enough away: History has shown us that there is very little downside to someone claiming that, unless we listen to them, we are all doomed (it's literally a "can't lose" prediction!). The key to this gambit is for the prophecy of disaster to be far enough away so that, if it doesn't happen, then people will have forgotten all about it, and the person who made the false claim either dead, or SEO Blog9T at least retired. Many conservatives are highly cynical about the fact that predictions in this realm just happen to always fit perfectly into "we have to act now while I am still relevant, or else we will all die right about the time I am no longer around to be held accountable if that doesn't actually happen" category. Can/should anything be done anyway?: This may be the toughest issue for conservatives to get past. The globe is so large, and we in the United States are such a relatively small part of it, that, even if we destroyed our own economy in an effort to combat the alleged problem, it sounds like we couldn't even make a real dentanyway. Then there's the part of this which no one ever talks about; some warming of this earth would have many positive effects and, up until a point, may actually be an overall net positive (which may be why this most recent report went WAY beyond any other by predicting a seemingly ludicrous 11 degree increase in temperature over the next 80 years). -- That's just ten reasons why there is skepticism on the right, and why liberal efforts to quash that skepticism continue to fail. [Featured image via screengrab] Follow John Ziegler (@Zigmanfreud ) on Twitter This is an opinion piece. The views expressed in this article are those of just the author.

[memoriesofprojectkids-blog]

What’s Beef? Why did we hate 13th Street?

Memories of a Project Kid What's Beef? Why did we grow up hating 13th Street?/Neighborhood Rivalries Rivalries, neighborhood beefs, arch enemies. When you think of rivalries, most will mention the Hatfield vs the McCoys, Auburn vs Alabama, North Korea vs South Korea. For us, growing up in 5th Street Projects, our biggest rivalry was 13th Street Projects. Growing up, I hated 13th Street. It was natural. I was from 5th Street and I was supposed to hate everyone from 13th Street. Supposed to…… You see, I was from 5th Street Projects, technically known as Southwark Housing Plaza, and our natural born enemy was 13th Street Projects, officially known as the Martin Luther King Housing Development. I don’t recall the history behind it, but this was how things were. 13th Street was the next closest housing project to my neighborhood. To put things into perspective, in our section of South Philly it was rather ethnically diverse with a healthy mix of Blacks, Italians, Jewish, Irish, Vietnamese and Cambodians, all living within the same areas. But in true Willie Lynch fashion 5th Street Projects had developed an intense dislike for 13th Street Projects and vice versa. Forget the fact most kids hadn’t met anyone from 13st Street ever in their life but if we had “we’d definitely beat them up.” You see, by the time I was about 9 years old, 13th Street had taken on almost mythical proportions. It was well known that if you went up there alone, they would kidnap you and your family would never see you again. “Everyone” said the kids up there walked around with uzis out in the open and if they thought you were from 5th Street, they would shoot you. Or if you were down South Street by yourself and they knew you were from 5th Street, they would jump you and beat you up (which was actually kind of true). Growing up, there was an intense hatred for a neighborhood which I’d never been to, never met anyone, nor did I know anything about other than rumors. Until a short trip with my Aunt Doris. It was right before Easter and I had to take back a shirt my mother had bought me from City Blue in Center City. My Aunt Doris had offered me a ride, which I happily accepted. As I waited for my aunt to get in the car, I decided to turn on the car radio “Express ya self, doing good….I’m expressing with my full capability, now I’m living in correctional facility, but some don’t agree with how I do this, I get straight meditate like I’m Brutus…..” My Aunt Doris got in the car and looked at me with the look an Aunt gives to her nephew when he changed her radio station. “Who told you to turn my station? Take that mess off!” As she backed up and pulled out of the parking lot, she fumbled thru the dial and found what she was looking for “Bad boy singing……Ooooh yeah! Shubby doo wip da wee wee wee, its all right. Yeah, Bad Boy singing” “That’s my jam Mal!”, my aunt said as she turned it up and began to groove to Luther (the skinny Luther) while driving. As we drove down Christian Street and stopped at the traffic light, my aunt thought for a second and then said. “You know what Mal, I gotta stop by Val’s house to pick up something.” Val was the mother of one of my cousins and would sometimes visit our house. At first, I didn’t think much of it, but as we kept going straight down Christian Street, 9th, 10th, 11th, 12th…., I asked “Aunt Doris, where Val live?” I asked. “13th Street” my aunt said, not thinking twice about it. As we pulled up to the housing complex, I leaned back into the car seat as my aunt got out of the car. “Let’s go.” She said looking at me. Now here I am, in enemy territory and she’s asking me to get out of the car. “I can’t get out around here!” I said, fearing some unknown assailant. “Boy what you talking? You ain’t gone sit in the car, let’s go” As I slowly exited the car, I glanced around. Keep in mind I wasn’t involved in any gangs, a life of crime or really, anything negative. There was no tangible logic to be afraid but for some reason, I had this idea someone from 13th Street was out to get me. We walked into one of the towers unnoticed by the dozens of people standing around outside. The lobby was dimly lit and there were a few shady characters standing around. My aunt pushed the button while, I watched the front door to make sure no one would sneak up on us. There was a boy about my age, also waiting for the elevator and as the doors opened, he took his side of the elevator and I took mine. My aunt pressed for the 9th floor and for a second, I thought I saw the kid going for something, but he was only unbuttoning his jacket. The elevator went up and after a minute came to an abrupt halt. Suddenly the doors opened and we noticed that the elevator had stopped a few feet from the 9th floor. My aunt and I didn’t know what to do, so I decided to just try and climb up and get off but the kid on the elevator quickly grabbed my arm. “Don’t do that, the doors might close on you. Sometimes if you wait a few minutes it will go up to the floor. Just push another button.” 3 seconds later, the doors slammed shut and the elevator went back down to the 8th floor. This time the doors opened all the way on the floor. My aunt pressed the button for the 9th floor again but the elevator made no movement and remained motionless. “It’s better if y’all walk, sometimes it’ll be stuck for hours.” the kid said to us. We heeded his advice and took the steps to the 9th floor with the same boy walking behind us. As we reached Ms. Val’s house, we noticed he lived two doors down. “Thank you for your help. We’d probably be still be in there.” my aunt said to the boy as he was opening his door. “It’s cool.” he replied. “Jamal, you not gone say nothing?” my aunt said. “Oh yeah, thanks.” I blurted out, a bit late as the boy had already closed the door. We went to my cousin’s mother apartment, sat and talked for a few minutes. On our way back down, we decided to take the other elevator…which worked just fine. As we exited there was a group of guys hanging out in front of the building. “Hey what’s going on Doris!” one of the men shouted. My aunt looked back, “hey what’s up Mike, what you doing out here?” My aunt shouted back. “Chilling. Is that your son?” he asked. “No, that’s Marilyn’s son, Jamal.” My aunt replied, bundling up her jacket as a strong wind passed. “Little Jamal, that’s Greg’s son! How you been young buck? I ain’t seen you since you was a baby. Ya pops still in the army right. Tell him I said what’s up.” The man said, as I nodded my head and we got into the car. As my aunt turned the ignition, WDAS blasted out “……Chaka, chaka, chaka Khan. Chaka Chaka Khan…..I feel for you, I think I love you!” “They jamming today” my Aunt said smiling as we drove off. Turning the corner, I was relieved to have escaped from 13th Street Projects. But in reality, did I really have anything to be afraid of, and more importantly, if I did, then why? Question What makes young black men, hate other young black men for no apparent reason at all? The deadly rivalry between 5th Street and 13th Street was not unique. It’s very common, not just in Philadelphia but all across the United States. Young black youth growing up with a blind hatred of other young black youth from different neighborhoods. In many instances, there will be a dislike for other neighborhoods as a youth and yet, they would often have had little to no interaction with others until they reach high school or are old enough to travel to other parts of the city on their own. By then, the hatred for these rival groups has become so real that one black youth will kill another from that neighborhood as a testament to how tough his neighborhood is. But is that really being tough? Killing another individual, from another neighborhood, simply because his family was also poor and had to live in the projects. It’s actually kind of insane. Poor people, seeking out other poor people to become enemies and to ultimately wipe each other out. Often times, we’ll skip over entire sections of the city to identify the other poor people to make them adversaries. In theory, some may suggest this is because ethnic groups generally interact with each other most, hence previous confrontations may have created rivalries. Additionally, the generational aspect would have an impact because if someone from another neighborhood attacked your father/uncle/cousin or whatever, these stories would have been passed down, etc, etc, etc. This may be true to a small extent but much of the hate and violence is completely random and totally unrelated to anything or anyone even remotely connected to previous generations. In my opinion, there seemed to be a level of self-hatred which manifests itself against other people from similar backgrounds. I’ll give an example. A few years after the above incident, my mother transferred me to another elementary school. I was a very good student academically with straight A’s and my new school, Meredith Elementary, was a diverse school with students from a variety of ethnic, social and cultural backgrounds. Although the school had a sizable number of black students, in the 7th grade, there were only two black males, myself and a guy named James Tyrone Lane (who would go on to be a world renowned dancer and has performed on Broadway, East End London and Italy). One day, our teacher, a really cool Italian guy named Mr. Spina took us on a class trip to the Liberty Bell which was only a few blocks away. After the class trip, the class went to the local Gallery Mall to get something to eat at the food court. On our way out of the mall, James and I were approached by two other young guys, just about the same age as us. One of the kids walks up to us and says “my homie want to fight you. And then me and you are gonna fight.” Now keep in mind, there was no previous confrontation, no history, it’s as if we had bumped into them inside the mall. Yet, these two young black men decided to single out me and my friend for a fight. I’m not suggesting that he should have started something with one of the Italian, Irish, Polish, Jewish or Asian kids but why did they pick us out? The kid repeats it “my friend wants a fair one” (i.e. a fight), so I look at James confused and he looks at me like “who the hell are these guys. One of the girls in our class saw the incident and shouted “Mr Spina, they’re going to fight.” Mr. Spina turned around completely baffled to see these two kids not in his class challenging us to a fight and presumably for no reason whatsoever. He gives them a look and then says “Get the hell out of here before I call the cops!” The kids looked at him, then looked at each other and then ran off in the opposite direction. Mr. Spina looks at me and says “what was that about?” My response was “I have no idea Mr. Spina, we don’t know those dudes”. And literally, I had no idea who they were, nor why they decided that out of all the people in life, they wanted to fight us. As I look back on that situation, a number of questions come to mind. Why did those kids really signal us out? What was going on in their minds? Why weren’t they in school? And one final question: Did they have a father in their lives? To those unfamiliar with the inner city dynamics, this may seem like an amazing and baffling story, but it is actually quite common. These kind of incidents happen every day, in every kind of situation amongst young black males. Nine times out of ten, the reasons behind the conflicts are either truly non-existent or simply stupidity (and to note, we would have trashed those dudes). Sadly, it’s the byproduct of self-hatred in which many people instead of having an affinity for their own, they instead have an intense, oftentimes, unexplainable hatred for their own people. This phenomena obviously didn’t just exist in Philadelphia and isn’t even limited to urban settings. My grandparents are originally from a small town called Elloree in South Carolina and we’d regularly go there for visits and family reunions. I was talking with my cousin Darnell and noted how relaxed it was there and the lack of gangs along with violence. He noted how on the surface, it looks okay but then explained how even though there were only a handful of black people in the entire county, they would regularly fight the other people from the next town over, causing numerous problems and incidents. To that extent, in my travels across Africa and the Middle East, you find the same dysfunction from distressed communities with the common theme of having an inexplicable dislike for another people in a nearby village or town. But……all is never lost. As a youth, one of the local community organizers, Doug Nesmith, would organize basketball tournaments and invite a few teams 13th Street, 7th Street (another local neighborhood which coincidentally, my father said was their biggest rivalry when he was growing up) and a few other teams from different parts of South Philly. As kids, we just saw this as a sporting event, but in a lot of ways it also humanized the people from those different neighborhoods. Their parents and friends also came out to support them in their games and were also supportive of our teams. Thus while it was only basketball, the positive interaction allowed us all to grow out of the enmity, which some people may have had. As I got older, I would actually meet numerous people from 13th Street, 7th Street and other neighborhoods from different walks of life while in college, professionally and in business. What I learned was the idea of young black men, hating other young black men for no apparent reason is a symptom of the larger social problems of the inner city and our people. People tend to take out their frustration and hatred on those similar to themselves. However, the flip side is people also tend to seek the assistance of individuals who have a similar upbringing. It’s led me to believe we need to identify these issues at a younger age and promote positive interaction before it’s overshadowed by negative sentiments. One thing is for sure, if you were to talk to the majority of adults from both neighborhoods, who’d witnessed the violence which took place, they will all agree it was over nonsense. No one ever looks back and is happy about that kind of stuff. Over time, even the hardest gangsters learn the difference between right and wrong. In the early 2000’s, both 5th Street and 13th Street projects would meet the same fate, the wrecking ball. Both housing projects would face massive redevelopment projects in which the majority of their inhabitants were not able to return. Today, 5th Street is formally known as Courtyard at the Riverview and 13th Street has the official name of Universal Court at MLK Plaza. Although some of the neighborhood youths try to hold onto some of the past “glory”, it’s definitely not the same, which is a good thing. One final factor is the notion of finding some form of identity or even strength in coming from such violent neighborhoods. As a youth growing up in our projects, we all thought we were the toughest people in the world. However, as we got a little bit older and started learning about 13th Street, 7th Street and South Philly as a whole, you started to believe our section of the city was the “toughest”. A bit more experience and traveling would allow you to see other parts of the city such as West Philly, North Philly, Germantown and Kensington, all of which had their fair share of violence and supposed toughness. And yet, when I got to college and started meeting people from Brooklyn, Detroit, Baltimore, Los Angeles and other places, you’d hear similar stories of gangs, street violence and other issues. I remember the first time hearing how dangerous Washington DC was and didn’t believe it because after all, it was the nation’s capital and they had the White House, Congress, along with all those monuments, so why would they be tripping? However, what became clear was how, while the violence took different forms, it all stemmed from the same systematic problems: broken homes, drugs, lack of opportunity and quite honestly, a lack of love for one another. Within this notion as I reflected on growing up with the idea of coming from a supposedly tough neighborhood because of the level of crime, I began to view my neighborhood from a more positive perspective of community and wanting to see change. There’s nothing wrong with loving one’s neighborhood, in fact, we should encourage it. However, we need to move away from the concept of affiliating our neighborhood with violence, and focus on hope and community. Hopefully this generation can move in a more positive direction and creative a better future. We can’t afford to lose another generation to a rivalries which were never really rivalries to begin with.