#the father explaining how they will enrich their life not like riches but like in their hearts... heart motif again

[hauntingblue]

My theory is that corazón doesn't want law (and children) to be part of the family bc he wants to protect them so he just scares and hits them away

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Topsy Turvy Days in Scarabia

What are the chances that the Adeuce combi somehow both ended up picking the same alternate dorm to be in 🤣

Azul voice) You two are downgrades from Jade and Floyd.

The Sorcerer of the Sands, and his Spirit of Mindfulness.

Azul Ashengrotto…

… leaves the Mostro Lounge in Trey’s capable (enough) hands and packs his own bags for the sands! To Azul, this dorm exchange program is just another extended business trip, and he intends to capitalize on every possible moment of it! The seeds he sows today will become fruitful sources of connections, supplies, and revenue for the future. Look at that, he’s already thinking with all the forethought and mindfulness of a Scarabia student!

He’s wise enough to prep in advance for what he knows will be a difficult climate to adjust to. Part of Azul’s luggage contains transition lens glasses (to deal with the sun!), a variety of moisturizers, and a massive water bottle to keep himself hydrated and to slow the loss of moisture in his very delicate merman skin! But no matter how dry or overheated he may get, Azul absolutely refuses to assume his merform or to unceremoniously submerge himself in water in very public places (the fountain, the desert oasis). He’ll stay here in the shade, thank you very much!!

As soon as Azul pulls up to his new dorm, he starts greeting and cozying up to people, bowing, shaking hands, and handing out his business cards like they’re candy. (A good first impression is very important to establish amicable relationships!!) “Please do feel free to get in contact should you ever be in need of assistance,” he insists, sliding his card and a smile over. “I would be more than happy to hear your woes.”

It isn’t long before Azul learns that life in Scarabia is runs at its own pace. Under Kalim’s reign, the students are just kind of allowed to do whatever they want (and though they are intelligent, the lax leadership has not encouraged them to meet their full potentials). Azul seizes the opportunity to take charge of those poor, unfortunate souls, leading study sessions and guiding them through mentally enriching activities (cooking, crushing other at board games, etc). Once the Scarabia students are in his debt, he can call on them for favors 🙃

He’s nosy, so he’ll snoop around Scarabia looking for anything of interest. (If anyone catches him, Azul will explain it away as “just being curious” about the architecture of the dorm. There’s all sorts of things to ogle and make note of, from the unique flora and rich fabrics that adorn the lounge to the ornate lanterns strung overhead and the rare spices lining the kitchen cabinets. The list of things he wants to acquire for the Mostro Lounge grows ever longer…

Azul happens upon Scarabia’s storage room and marvels at all the jewels and other treasures contained within it—but though he admires that enormous wealth, he refrains from taking any of it for himself. That amount of money is something he wants to be able to earn for himself, not shamelessly steal. Goals reaffirmed, Azul sets his sights to a future lined with gold.

He doesn’t intentionally concern himself with babysitting Ace or Deuce, but their paths inevitably cross. Azul has to be the one to tell them off or to get them out of trouble, because if the duo fucks up hard then it makes him, by association as an outsider, look bad. In other words… those meddling kids are getting in his way again!!

Azul not-so-subtly hints that he would like for everyone to put in a good word about him to Kalim and Jamil upon their return. Imagine the benefits Azul could reap if he connected with Kalim’s father, or he could befriend someone as skilled as Jamil!! (Somewhere in Ignihyde, Jamil sneezes.) He sells the idea to Scarabia as “I wish to deepen the bonds between your dorm and Octavinelle!” … and enough of them buy it for him to be satisfied with all the efforts he out into this con investment.

“Fufu. Truly, the cultural differences of the land and the sea are nowhere near as vast as they are between Scarabia and Octavinelle. That is, perhaps, what lends each of us our unique strengths and assets. I have become all the richer for all the knowledge and the connections I have made here. May we forge an ever stronger union between the world above and the world below the depths, so that we may create a whole new world together.”

Ace Trappola…

… is tugged by the ear and forced to sit down for a “chat” with Riddle before he’s let loose in Scarabia. He’s in for a looong lecture about “proper etiquette” and “respecting the legacy of the Sorcerer of the Sands”. Ace just rolls his eyes and goes, “Why do only I have to sit through this and not Deuce?! This is discrimination against ME specifically!!” (There’s a fiery back-and-forth between them, concluding with Ace reassuring his dorm leader Riddle doesn’t need to “worry his own damn head off” about his behavior “cuz I can handle myself just fine!” He’s got to keep one jump ahead of the lawmen—)

… Anyway, Ace then proceeds to live a very hedonistic lifestyle at Scarabia like a stereotypical frat bro or something 🤣 The luxury’s here, so he might as well indulge and enjoy it while he can!! You’ll often find him reclined in a sea of silk cushions, soaking up the sunshine and snacking on whatever is left lying around on their tables.

The opulence kind of goes to his head at a certain point; Ace starts snapping pics of all the cool stuff Scarabia has and posting it on Magicam to flex on his haters followers. Here’s Ace running his hands through piles of gold while he’s literally swimming in it. and here’s Ace sticking his tongue out at the camera while lying on a complicated tapestry. (There are consistent likes from Cater, but also DM requests from Riddle coming in, which Ace promptly ignores.)

With his quick wit and bright personality, he makes quick friends in Scarabia. Ace likes doing character impressions for his new buddies, which are always sure to earn him applause and laughter. His most popular impression at the moment is Jamil (whom Ace knows rather intimately thanks to their many encounters during VDC/SDC training camp and in Basketball Club). “Wow, that’s exactly what Jamil-senpai sounds like!!” the Scarabia students cry out in awe.

Ace parties hard at the banquets (which, in the absence of Jamil, Azul has organized)!! Without all the stuffy rules and regulations of Heartslabyul to keep him down, nothing’s stopping Ace from dancing the night away and eating ‘til he passes out from a food coma! He’s here for a good time, not a long time!

He plays some games with his new dorm members, but doesn’t exactly always do so fairly. While the opponent’s distracted, Ace will get ahead by making an extra move or using sleight of hand to remove an important piece from play. )That’s how he ends up winning so many games of mancala!) When Deuce calls him out on this, Ace just shrugs and tells him, “I’m not cheating! I’m using deliberation, idiot. That makes me an ideal Scarabia student!”

Ace isn’t above pocketing some of the loot from the storage room. He doesn’t try to take as much of it as he can unlike a certain hyena would, but just a few large rubies he thinks he could resell for a good price. (Kalim-senpai won’t mind, right? He’s got tons of these, he’s probably hand me a whole sack of ‘em if I asked! Ace reasons with himself. Besides, I don’t have enough spending money for myself this week! I should just do this now while Jamil-senpai’s not around.)

When you think that’s the worst of the antics he gets up to… think again! Late in the evenings, once everyone else has gone to sleep, Ace sneaks out and steals the magic carpet for a starry joyride! He soars, tumbles, and freewheels through and endless diamond sky, in a whole new world way up in the clouds. It is here where he feels the most free—free from the rules, from the expectations, free from the inhibitions, free from everything.

“Man, Scarabia’s awesome!! I can basically do and say whatever I want, there’s no Riddle ryocho breathing down my neck… This is definitely right up my alley!! … I say that, but Heartslabyul’s got a heck of a lot going for it too. I guess in the end there’s no place like ‘home’, huh? N-Not that I miss Heartslabyul or anything, like I’d miss that place and its teapot tyrant!!”

Deuce Spade…

… is all fired up for Scarabia!! He’s been doing a ton of self-reflection lately, and he knows that an area of weakness for him is stopping to think before he acts. What better way to work on that then immersing himself in a dorm teeming with mindful students? Maybe some of their smarts will rub off on him!!

Deuce appreciates that Scarabia’s uniform allows for liberal movement. He’s also pretty fond of the flames on his new hotpants; he thinks they’re super cool, and they remind him of how used to dress as a delinquent. “It’d look even more cool if we added skulls! Can I add some patches to my uniform?” he asks, earning stares from Ace (”Dude, how edgy are you?!” and Azul (”I would refrain from tailoring your borrowed uniform, Deuce-san. That is a privilege reserved for dorm leaders.”).

Without their Heartslabyul senpai to keep an eye on them, Deuce vows to keep his fellow first year under control! (That’s what an honor student would do!) Unfortunately for Deuce, that more often than not leads to bickering, and then him getting roped into Ace’s shenanigans rather than stopping them… like the time Deuce stepped on the magic carpet while trying to yoink it out of Ace’s hands, spooking it and sending it shooting out of the window with both of the boys clinging onto it!! (“You’re just as guilty as I am now, so don’t tell a soul or we’ll both be busted!!” Ace hisses at him. “You’re the one that hijacked Asim-senpai’s stuff though!!” Deuce shoots back. “Go and apologize to him right now!!” The magic carpet wonders if all Heartslabyul kids are like this.)

The menagerie of animals kept at Scarabia (mostly on account of Kalim) is huge. Deuce becomes particularly enthralled by the exotic birds, though he can’t keep any of their names straight so he just calls them different kinds of variants of chicken. (”They can’t ALL be chickens, Loosey Deucey!” Ace sighs, bonking him on the head.)

He defers to Azul’s authority, since he’s a dorm leader and their upperclassman! Sure, Azul kind of has a shady record, but Deuce decides to place his trust in him regardless. He believes that if he’s making an honest effort to change, then so can Azul–and everyone deserves a second chance, right? The merman finds Deuce’s naivete childish yet oddly charming, for it is his willingness to forgive that reminds him so much of Kalim in the aftermath of Jamil’s… incident. He’s not wrong, Azul muses. People are capable of change. Even a diamond can be found in the rough.

Deuce takes the time to keep up with his training for Track and Field Club even in a whole new dorm! You’ll find him sprinting around the perimeter of Scarabia, occasionally trekking all the way out to the desert oasis on particularly rigorous workouts. (It’s a challenge since the sands interfere with his speed!) Once his routine is done, he’ll dunk his whole head in a fountain or in the oasis waters to refresh himself!!

There are times when he makes his way to the oasis when he’s frustrated or needs some alone time. It’s the next closest thing to the ocean, and the only body of water big enough for him to shout to. He’ll vent about his inadequacies and the difficulties of catching up to those who are naturally talented–but once he has laid out all of his feelings, Deuce feels much better, and ready to tackle the next day at full throttle!

He becomes absolutely fascinated by the idea of astrology and divinations (areas which students of Scarabia often excel in). Deuce asks for them to tell his fortune or to see into the future using the stars!! … His stares of anticipation are so intense that the Scarabia students feel awkward while they go through the process–but once Deuce has his reading, whether it’s good or bad, he gets even more motivated to do his best. Affirming a good prediction or turning over a bad one–that power’s up to him and him alone to wield!

“The more I see of Scarabia, the more I realize how much there’s still left for me to learn. I didn’t know there was food so spicy it makes you feel like your tongue fell off, or that stars could be so bright up close. I thought I was a chick before, but I was wrong! I’m still barely hatched from my egg! So… I’ll use the time I have left here to learn everything I can. I’ll go back to Heartslabyul a better man than I was yesterday!”

[history-of-europe]

Introduction into the Philosophy of Ancient Greece

Ever wondered how the intellectual currents of Ancient Greece, spanning from the 8th century BC to the 5th century AD, have left an enduring imprint on our understanding of the world? The cultural blossoming of Ancient Greece and Rome during this era left an indelible mark on Europe, North Africa, and West Asia, with classical philosophy emerging as a guiding force in Western intellectual thought.

At the heart of Western philosophy lies the foundational work of visionaries like Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle. Their monumental contributions to metaphysics, ethics, politics, and epistemology laid the groundwork for a profound exploration of knowledge. These foundational ideas not only defined the philosophical discourse of their time but also laid the groundwork for the development of Western thought in subsequent centuries.

Socrates, often regarded as the trailblazer, engaged in philosophical dialogues that challenged conventional wisdom. His famous assertion, "the unexamined life is not worth living," encapsulates the essence of his philosophical mission. Building on Socratic foundations, Plato expanded and systematized these ideas in "The Republic," where he delved into the nature of justice, the role of individuals, and the structure of an ideal society.

Aristotle, a student of Plato, further enriched Greek philosophy with his extensive contributions to metaphysics and ethics. In "Nicomachean Ethics," Aristotle explored the nature of virtue and the pursuit of the good life, emphasizing the crucial role of moderation. These philosophical insights provided a comprehensive framework that not only shaped the intellectual discourse of their time but also influenced subsequent generations.

Beyond the well-known triumvirate, exploring the lesser-known philosophers adds layers of richness to the philosophical discourse of Ancient Greece. Thales of Miletus, often considered the first Western philosopher, introduced a revolutionary idea—that natural phenomena could be explained without resorting to divine intervention. This departure from mythological explanations paved the way for a more rational understanding of the natural world.

Pythagoras, renowned for the Pythagorean theorem, seamlessly integrated mathematics with philosophy, highlighting the interconnectedness of different fields of knowledge. His emphasis on the harmony of the cosmos not only influenced mathematical thought but also contributed to a holistic understanding of the universe.

Heraclitus, with his doctrine of change and the concept of "logos," challenged the prevailing notion of a static world. His emphasis on perpetual change and the interconnectedness of opposites fostered a dynamic worldview that resonates with modern ideas of complexity and evolution.

Democritus, often hailed as the "father of modern science," put forth the revolutionary atomic theory, suggesting that all matter is composed of indivisible particles called atoms. This early atomic theory laid the groundwork for future scientific inquiries into the nature of matter, demonstrating the interdisciplinary nature of Greek philosophical thought.

Some of the greatest works produced during this period include Plato's dialogues, such as "The Symposium" and "Phaedo," which cover a wide array of topics, providing profound insights into ethics, politics, metaphysics, and epistemology. Aristotle's "Metaphysics" also stands as a profound contribution, shaping our understanding of reality and existence.

Distinctive philosophical schools, each with its unique characteristics and areas of focus, emerged during this period. Platonism, Aristotelianism, Stoicism, Epicureanism, and Skepticism represented diverse approaches to philosophical inquiry. The Academy, founded by Plato, and the Lyceum, established by Aristotle, were influential centers of learning that emphasized knowledge and empirical observation.

The philosophy of Ancient Greece emphasized the pivotal role of reason and rational inquiry in understanding the world, contributing to the richness and diversity of Greek philosophical thought. This emphasis on critical thinking and logical analysis spanned a wide variety of subjects, providing a comprehensive understanding of the human experience.

This influence extended beyond the classical period, leaving an indelible mark on subsequent civilizations, including the Roman Empire and the Renaissance. The principles of justice, virtue, and governance articulated by Greek philosophers became foundational elements in the development of Western political thought.

The legacy of ancient Greek philosophy is not confined to the annals of history but continues to resonate in modern thought. The transition from mythological beliefs to rational inquiry, initiated by Greek philosophers, marked a pivotal moment in human intellectual evolution. This transition emphasized logic and reason as the primary means of understanding the world, laying the groundwork for the scientific method and shaping our contemporary approach to knowledge and understanding.

While the well-known figures of Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle dominate the narrative, it's crucial to recognize the significant contributions of lesser-known philosophers like Thales, Pythagoras, Heraclitus, and Democritus. These diverse perspectives enriched the philosophical discourse of the time, highlighting the multifaceted nature of Greek philosophy.

Moreover, the dynamic interaction between philosophy and other fields, such as science, art, and politics, underscores the interdisciplinary nature of Greek philosophical thought. The philosophical schools, each with its distinctive principles, reflect the nuanced and evolving intellectual environment of Ancient Greece.

In exploring the legacy of Greek philosophy, it becomes evident that its impact extends far beyond the borders of classical antiquity. The ideas introduced by ancient Greek philosophers continue to shape our understanding of morality, reality, and knowledge in the modern world. The intellectual landscape they cultivated serves as a testament to the timeless pursuit of wisdom and the enduring quest for a deeper understanding of our existence.

[m-y-fandoms]

Korekiyo Shinguuji x reader fluff

Request: Hello!! ✨ Can i request something fluffy with Korekiyo (it would be nice if it would be with his pregame version (but original is okay, too))? Maybe he's having a sleepover with reader? Thank you in advance ✨ I really like your writing. Your oneshots and imagines make my day!!

Okay I’m gonna de pregame Korekiyo like you asked! So just a tall, lanky, beautiful man with a face mask. No incest and lipstick or killing game lmao. Also I’ll make him interested in anthropology but not the Ultimate/SHSL - Admin Kokichi

     “Are you sure? I really don’t want to impose…” your best friend, Korekiyo Shinguuji, stares at you from behind his black dust mask with a concerned gaze. His brows are furrowed deeply in the center.

     Korekiyo had gotten into a fight last night with his legal guardian, his older sister. Apparently, it had been a nasty one, unlike anything that’s happened between them before. It gotten so bad that she kicked him out of the house, with no word of when he would be allowed back in.

     “Yeah, of course, Kiyo! We are buds right? You’re my bestie! I can’t let my bestie just spend the. night alone in some hotel or sleep out in the street, now can I?”

     “But Y/N-”

     “Would you let me go sleep in the street if it were me?”

     “No, I suppose not, but-”

     “Then any argument you have in invalid. Case closed!” You closed your notebook on your desk haughtily as if to signify the end of the conversation. Korekiyo sighed, a slight blush on his cheeks as he placed his head down on his desk with anxiety.

     “You’re sure your parents are okay with it?” He mumbled, his black hair cascading down his back and shoulders and splaying out around his desk.

     “Well…”

     “Y/N…” he warned, scolding you like a mad mother.

     “They will be out of town this entire week. My dad always travels for work and my bitch of a stepmother has to stay attached to his hip like a leech at all times so-”

     “Then me staying over seems highly inappropriate. I’m sure your father would-”

      “Don’t make me guilt you into coming over. You’re my friend. You’re in need, and I love spending time with you! Please?” You reached over and pulled on the sleeve of his exorbitantly-priced sweater with eyes wide like a puppy dog.

     “You win this time, Y/N, but if your father finds out and becomes hostile toward me, I’m going to blame you…” he joked breathily, shaking his head at his stubborn best friend. He couldn’t help but give into your every want and desire, and you often pulled him into your schemes and plans. Well...he called them schemes, but he was just a goody-two-shoes, so anything not morally immaculate or life-enriching was considered foolish to him.

     “Then it’s settled.” You nearly squealed. You’d been waiting forever to have him over to your house, but he’d always declined. You’d known him for about a year, and still your humble abode had remained a mystery to him. He lived with his older sister who took care of him after their parents died, and she was extremely strict with him. He was never allowed to come over after school. You’d been to his place once or twice, but always with supervision and strictly for studying or some other educational activity. If you wanted to spend time after school, he had to lie to her about where he was going and why. Finally, you’d have your crush, your best friend over to your home.

     You had to admit to yourself, you did feel a little guilty about the whole situation. You were inviting him over for mainly selfish reasons. Yes, he was your best friend and you’d never let him go without a place to stay, but there was a large part of you that just wanted the boy you liked alone and to yourself for a night or...maybe two, if this first sleepover went well. Unfortunately though, your crush on him weighed heavily on you. You felt horrible for keeping this secret of your feelings from him, because he trusted you with everything. You were so scared that letting him know that you wanted to be more than friends would ruin the close bond you two had. Yeah...it would be way too awkward to remain friends afterward if he rejected your feelings.

~

     You both were let out after the last class of the day. Korekiyo walked you back home every single day since you’d become friends. At first, you found it a bit embarrassing, seeing as he was one of the kids from the rich neighborhoods around your school and you lived in a middle-class suburb a bit further away. Your fears about your class-difference with your best friend quickly faded as you got to know him. It became clear within weeks of hanging out that he would never judge you based on financial status, whether you lived in a trailer or a palace. That was just one of the many things you loved about him. And boy could you list a bunch…

     He was intelligent, a straight-A student and teacher’s pet. He had endless wisdom and knowledge of both practical things and useless trivia. He gave the best advice, and was so passionate about both his hobbies and yours. You could talk with him forever without the topic getting dry.

     His looks only enamored you to him further. He was tall and slender, with a perfectly built frame. Unlike your peers, he never got acne, and his complexion was pore-less and smooth like marble. He was pale, and his eyes stood out like flecks of gold against an ivory surface. His hair was healthier and more majestic than any female you knew. It was long, all the way down his back, and was the deepest, darkest shade of black with delicate bangs that fell across his forehead. He was absolutely gorgeous, but for some reason he still had self-esteem issues. For this reason, he always wore a dust mask over his mouth and nose that concealed his entire lower face. You could never understand why. Everyone at school either liked him or was jealous of him, and he had nothing to hide from anyone.

     He tried to lie to you at first, stating that he had a weaker constitution and because of frequent illness and hospital visits, his sister made him wear it, but once you got closer, he admitted he liked hiding his face and it made him feel comfortable. He customized his masks, or commissioned them to be specially made, having embroidery on them or patchwork and sometimes shelling out for the more expensive leather or designer masks...which you didn’t even know existed until you met him.

     You’d tried to convince him multiple times that he was beautiful and had nothing worth covering up, but he insisted upon wearing the masks in public at least. After knowing him for a few months, he let you see his bare face, but only at his house. And man...were you blown away. He almost...looked like a woman without the mask. But not? It was hard to explain. He was like some kind of gender-less, androgynous deity. He certainly had a strong, masculine brow and jaw, but then his lips were pert and plump and soft...soft-looking at least. They were gentle and the cupid’s bow dipped down low and rounded out. He had a wide, manly chest and slender waist, but long eyelashes. Large, veiny hands, but delicate skin and hair. He was absolutely heavenly to look at. That first time, when you’d seen him without his mask, you knew you were falling hard, and it made you sweat and your heart speed up. You were always so scared that you’d go too far or flirt by accident and he’d catch on and pull away from your friendship. It hadn’t happened yet, thankfully.

     It was raining, pouring down actually, and you two rushed down the street side by side, backpacks over your heads for protection from the downpour.

     “I apologize. As you know, I would usually have an umbrella but after she kicked me out last night, Miyadera has refused to let me go in and get anything that I didn’t have on my person at the time.” He was right, he was always prepared for any possibility, and his sister had now made that impossible.

     “It’s fine. I read the forecast this morning. I should’ve brought one as well,” you yelled, the rain pelting you both loudly. “We really should get a car or something. We’re seniors for fuck’s sake.” We? You didn’t know why you’d said that. He was his own person and probably could afford to buy you both cars with his own pocket money.

     Why did you even say that?

     “Ah, but walking is better exercise! It’s good for us! Besides...Miya won’t let me buy one... you know that. She practically controls all of my funds.”

     “Kiyo, you’re 18 now, get your damn money back!”

     “I’m scared…” he chuckled, only half-joking. It was true, you both had turned 18 recently and were about to graduate, but his sister still treated him like a little kid. Pretty ironic, as you wouldn’t kick a little kid out onto the street on their own.

     You passed his neighborhood, and he looked up at it longingly, raindrops substituting tears dripping down his cheeks. You could tell this was weighing on him. He loved his home, it was where he felt safe, and he hated fighting with his sister. She was a tough guardian, yes, but she gave up her life as a young woman in her prime to raise him.

     You were approaching your street now, both of you soaked down to your socks and hoping your bags didn’t also soak through. You both had many folders of homework and electronics inside that would all be ruined if so. You reached the curb, waiting to cross into your neighborhood, when an unruly teen in his beaten-up sedan screeched by, speeding past you two carelessly. You grabbed Korekiyo’s pale, cold hand, startled by the sudden volume of the law-breaking vehicle, and you both gasped as its wheels dug into the puddle in front of you just below the curb, and splashed onto you both like a tidal wave.

     “Fuckin’ asshole!” You yelled, charging forward after the car until a hand landed firmly on your shoulder, holding you back. You swore the rain would begin to evaporate and steam up into the air with how hot your skin was right now. You were royally pissed off.

     “Y/N if he’s the type of man to do that, what do you think talking to him would accomplish? Also, do you really think it’s possible to catch up to a speeding vehicle on foot?” Always the voice of reason. Always so calm and mature. You usually admired that in him, but right now you were seeing red, and his dismissal of your mood made you a bit ticked off at him as well.

     “But! I-gah! Aren’t you pissed? He just-”

     “Got us wet? We were already wet.”

     “But he did that on purpose!”

     “I know. Being irate changes nothing. Come on, once we are inside I’m sure we can get warm and dry off. I’ll keep you warm,” he smiled gently behind his mask, his eyes crinkling. Your cheeks would’ve heated up had your body not already been aflame from rage. You didn’t know why you were always so flustered when he was caring toward you or touched you or even mentioned touching you. You felt gross reveling in his platonic intimacy so much. It felt like you were taking advantage of his kindness. Yes, he could keep you warm once you got home. That was normal. You two always cuddled or held hands or leaned on each other. You were just that close. But it was all just casual, as friends...right?

     “Y-yeah. You can shower and I have some baggier, more comfortable clothes you can wear to hang out and sleep in. I think those should fit.” Korekiyo was taller than you and awfully skinny but you had some general sweatpants and oversized t-shirts that you were sure would fit anyone comfortably. You knew Korekiyo was used to the best and most expensive textiles and fashion, but for just hanging out at your house? It should be fine.

     “That’s very kind of you, thanks.” You were sure he was thinking: how could you put me in peasant-wear, but he would never say that aloud to you. “Why do you have that awful look on your face? Did I say something to offend you, Y/N?” He took your hand in his as you reached your front door and rummaged through your bag for your house keys, Korekiyo holding his phone’s flashlight over your bag to assist you.

     “No, I’m fine, Kiyo, why?” The keys jingled in the lock and you opened the door.

     “You know you can’t lie to me, Y/N,” his voice dropped into a low rumble, and you got chills down your spine. He was just so...sexy without even trying.

     “I just...sometimes I feel bad that you spend so much time with me or like I’m not enough, like the rest of our classmates who live in that bougie housing plan of yours...like with the clothes I’m giving you tonight. I feel like you deserve better or like...like what if those kids start to judge you one day because you’re hanging out with people that are beneath you.”

     “Y/N,” he stopped you, rolling his eyes as you both dropped your soaking bags and overcoats on the floor on your living room, “You’re my ‘bestie’ as you always say,” he chuckled dryly. “Do you really think I care what clothes I’m wearing when we are alone or what any of our peers think of my friendship with you? I know you know me far better than that… where is this all coming from? You’re unusually… emotional today,” he took your hand once again, leading you to the couch, but pausing before sitting down with you. “I do not wish to soak your couch. That shower would be nice about now,” you could see the pallor of his skin, coated like wet porcelain as he shook slightly.

     “Y-yes! Well okay, we have a bathroom in my parent’s master bedroom and one just in the hallway for guests and myself. You can take the master bedroom one, it’s much nicer,” you stuttered.

     “Why do you insist on babying me and always thinking I need pampered or require only the finer things in life? I was born wealthy, I don’t need all of those things. I think your house is wonderful,” he gestured around him, “just like you!” He encouraged you before letting you lead him upstairs. You ran to the bathroom closet then to your room, leaving him in the dark hallway alone for just a moment. He observed the photos on your wall, the paint, the carpet. Why would he judge you for any of this?

     You returned with the sleep-wear you promised and a fresh towel.

     “You can go ahead and use anything in there. My dad won’t even notice. B-but... if you don’t like his soaps and shampoos let me know. I have quite the skincare and bathing collection!” You were a little proud of that fact, and he smiled at the happiness finally leaking back into your attitude.

     “I’m sure it will all be fine. Thank you, Y/N.” He nodded, taking the towel and clothes from you before heading into your father’s room. You turned on your heel, fetching what you needed before taking a shower of your own in the hallway’s smaller bathroom.

~

     You sighed, but not in relief or relaxation, letting the hot water fall over you and loosen your tense muscles. You felt just so...fucked up. Conflicted. Confused. Guilty...love-struck. You didn’t know what to do and felt extremely overwhelmed.

     Tonight would be the best opportunity to tell him how you feel: alone, private, cozy and warm, cuddling up together? Yes, that was perfect...but at the same time, if he rejects you, then what? He leaves immediately and has nowhere to go? Or maybe he stays the night to be polite and there’s an awkward silence between you for the rest of your lives...what if he avoids you after school and no longer wants to go to the same university as you?! Your head was spinning.

     Why am I such a coward...you thought to yourself, tears mingling with the shower water.

~

     When you finally dried off and got dressed, Korekiyo was already waiting for you in your room, having turned on your electric blanket on your bed and sitting patiently waiting for you underneath it. His hair was damp and his mask was on your night stand. He acknowledged your entrance with a warm grin and patted the bed next to him.

     “Why are you in bed? It’s only like five, I was thinking we would go downstairs and cuddle on the couch and eat something-” you approached him slowly and he cut you off.

     “Goodness, Y/N, what’s wrong?” He stood to meet you, inches away and towering over you.

      “Huh?” He took your chin in his hands and tilted it upwards to meet his dandelion-colored eyes.

     “Your eyes are all puffed up. You’ve been crying? Why?” Wow…

     “You never miss a thing, huh, Kiyo?” You tried to change the subject or lighten the mood or...anything!

     “Only when it comes to you~” he hummed before leading you down the stairs and onto your couch. You dragged along behind him like a child being forced to the dentist. “Now, what’s upsetting you? You can tell me anything, you know that…” his eyes were full of concern and he but his lower lip, apprehensive.

     “Kiyo, I- well….it’s just...nothing’s wrong. Let’s go get some snacks. I know you love soup dumplings with white rice~” You smiled weakly.

     “First of all, that’s more of a meal than a snack, but anyway, you know you can’t lie to me, Y/N.”

     “I just...I just want...this is so hard.” You sighed, voice faltering.

     “What’s so hard? Me sleeping over, or your dad being gone? The rain earlier?”

     “No no.... I want you here and you know I don’t miss my dad...a-and I feel much better after washing up…” your voice trailed off. He took your hand one final time that night.

     And then...

     “May I kiss you?” Kiyo spoke so gently, so scared and soft, like he couldn’t even believe his own words. Your eyes widened in shock.

     “W-what?!” You pulled away from him, incredulous.

     “I want to kiss you, Y/N. Will you allow me?” You paused for a moment, your mind reeling, but then you nodded slowly, your brain taking over and deciding it knew what was best for you.

     Korekiyo leaned in, the couch squeaking a bit at the shift of weight. He clasped your chin with one hand, and guided you to him. His lips pressed gently into yours, as if he thought he might break you if he went any further. His lips were plush, surging with warmth, exactly how you’d always imagined them. After pecking you, he pulled back, looking for consent, looking for a sign that you enjoyed that, too. You nodded, getting the hint, and he pressed back onto you, a bit more liberal with his affection this time around.

     “Mmm…” you moaned into the kiss as you both tilted your heads at an angle to reach deeper, and his mouth slid open. His tongue trailed against your bottom lip and you opened up without hesitation, your heart going a mile a minute. His tongue massaged yours carefully for a long moment that seemed frozen in time, and then he pulled back. You both sat staring at each other, panting a bit, until a smirk teased across the corner of his lips, and a blush appeared on his normally-concealed face. “H-how...how did you know?”

     “I’ve always known…” you felt a wave of embarrassment and shame wash over you. “You’re not good at hiding it.”

     “Kiyo...I’m so sorry. I know we are just friends and I shouldn’t feel this way. I just- you are...I can’t stop feeling this way.”

     “Y/N...did you think I asked to kiss you out of pity…?” He saw something like realization register in your expression, and he reached out, pulling you into his chest.

     “You...you feel the same?”

     “Exactly the same.” You didn’t feel so guilty anymore. “And I suppose we both were just too afraid of rejection to say anything. But knowing you, I knew I would have to make the first move if I ever wanted you to myself…” he hugged you tighter with those words.

     “Y-yeah, I’m sorry about that...Kiyo, I’m so sorry. I should’ve told you.”

     “And I should’ve told you, but there’s no use feeling guilty. We both want this.”

     “Kiyo, will you...be my boyfriend…?” You now knew his true feelings, but still felt a lump in your throat. What if he didn’t want a committed, serious relationship right now, or his sister wouldn’t allow it...?

     “I want that more than anything.”

     You spent the rest of the night cooking soup dumplings, then shoving your faces with the greasiest snacks money could buy and watching documentaries while snuggled into his lap on the couch. He pointed out little facts and trivia along with each documentary, his obsession for culture and anthropology unabashedly taking over.

[dog-day-morning]

YOU OWE THEM NOTHING

People can be self-righteous when it comes to what they think God is supposed to do if, and when they call on Him. God is not a genie in a bottle that you rub, and a jinn pops out granting you 3 or 300 wishes. The saying faith without works is dead can be applied here. Have you ever heard of or read the book Daniel Webster and the devil? This tall tale or folklore legend was about a man who made a deal with old Slew Foot, and when it was time to pay up he had 2nd thoughts. Satan never plays fair. He's forever putting us in positions where we find ourselves desperate for a quick solution to a temporary problem that only leads to a difficult end. The Latin term for buyer beware is caveat emptor, and Satan knows how to spell. The power of a wicken comes from their basic weapon of spelling or casting spells by word of mouth. Even the Bible tells us that “Death and life are in the power of the tongue: and they that love it shall eat the fruit thereof.” Tell that to a Nicolaitan. Those who make deals with the most unclean should expect to suffer in the end. Never trust the father of lies who deals in treachery, and deceit. I look back at my mother's life and wonder if God had ever intervened for her, and fought her battles that surely He and only He would be able to deliver her from, and He has. Life is hard, for many it’s a nightmare that’s ongoing. Satan comes to you when you're at your weakest or most vulnerable in the hopes of snaring your soul into eternal suffering. Jesus comes to deliver us from death, sin, and temptations that confuse us in our trek towards His truth. If you have any aspirations of entertaining people with your gifted voice or your talent for playing lead guitar, don’t sign a contract that promises you the world only to find out you owe them your sweet ass which a man of honor wouldn't consider let alone make you cosign your body for their horn dog appeasement.

Revelation 2:9

9 I know thy works, and tribulation, and poverty, (but thou art rich) and I know the blasphemy of them which say they are Jews, and are not, but are the synagogue of Satan.

You're abundantly rich in spirit Yacob. Now’s the time to claim your position. These bastards have taken everything from you leaving your ancestors nothing but dust. If they could remove us off the face of the Earth they would. They're plotting to do so as you and I breathe, that's why the Father never sleeps. They are demon spawns who say they worship, and believe in God, but whose god, and what righteous god tells you to destroy a people with his blessing knowing what the children of Japheth have done to them historically? The spawns of Satan want your penuche, mouth, titties, and a-hole for their pleasure along with your talent that Justin Timberlake does not have. The new faces of R&B do not look like the people I grew up listening to or the race of people whose songs left an everlasting impression on my bleeding heart that helped me through my ill-fated, miserable existence. Robin Thicke, Christina Aguilera, K-Pop, the BackStreet Boys, and New Kids on the Block. Some of these groups are defunct, but they’re cranking out as many as they possibly can like Justin Bieber, and Demi Lovato. I just saw on YouTube where people were considering if Elvis Presley was Black, WTF?!! He was the biggest culture thief that Dr. Frankenstein, AKA Colonel Parker ever created. Man is cruel; Satan is a whole other type of bastard you shouldn’t entertain. I'm retarded. Some call me an idiot savant. YO MOMMA!!! People are blessed by the Father who has blessed many of us with gifts. There are many of you whom God has endowed with multiple talents that people would sell their soul in order to possess just one. If you're anointed by God to sing like Aretha Franklin may He lead you to sign with a label like Brother Carl Crawford's who won't make the same mistake he did with a very popular artist at this moment. More than likely you'll sign a contract entrusting your talent, blessing, and soul to the most unclean ones. Ain’t a reason in hell you should bow down or bend over for a leach like Mr. Friedman so he can butt bone your a-hole while enriching himself off your God given talents. God blesses those who seek him out, and those that don’t. I don’t know if Eddie Murphy went to Church, and sowed an offering every Sunday to God praying that the Father would make him the highest paid comedic actor in his prime. Richard Pryor was anointed in the womb to be the most blessed comedic talent, and influential comedian to ever walk this Earth bar none yet he and Mr. Murphy pursued their dreams in different ways with both of them becoming world renown. I'm inclined to ask, was it worth it?

Mark 8:36

For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?

The synagogue of Satan isn’t a trending pop culture manifestation that’s to be esteemed, cherished, or envied. These cults are trying to maintain a stranglehold on a world that’s not meant for them or their sort. People who play with Ouija boards or childhood games like Bloody Mary, and light as a feather are ushering dark spirits into their homes leaving their loved ones exposed to something sinister. Get the hell away from me and mine unless you're my sister, AKA Ms. Skunk Funk, who needs to get the crust burnt off her musty, dusty drawers. The whore of Don Juan has a death wish. Explain to me how running with the devil beats walking with God?

Isaiah 59:7

7 Their feet run to evil, and they make haste to shed innocent blood: their thoughts are thoughts of iniquity; wasting and destruction are in their paths.

This Nation was built on our ancestor’s blood, sweat, and relentless faith. Believe me when I say there's strength in every tear. I pray to God that I don’t shed anymore of them. Their wealth is not. It's a stolen Promise that the Father shall reward His children with. Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse, that there may be meat in mine house, and prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it. The most glaring, and frustrating example that is also bitter and disheartening I can give you is our Promised Inheritance called Yisrael that the gentiles are squatting on. When a person or in this case a tribe or race of people believe in their own lies they've become reprobate; they're lost.

Revelation 3:9

9 Behold, I will make them of the synagogue of Satan, which say they are Jews, and are not, but do lie; behold, I will make them to come and worship before thy feet, and to know that I have loved thee.

This is what all of Esau's children fear. It's why the bland, colored people of the world are flipping over the Earth's axis, and killing us without any probable cause. They are a lawless people who've displayed their lack of empathy, and humanity for anyone save their own breed, they behave like blood hounds. I've become content with this planet being void of water (Holy Spirit.) Black people suffer from a social disorder called the crab bucket mentality. We hate to see anyone rise up, and we’ll do whatever it takes to keep them down or discourage them. That person may possess something that can benefit the collective, who cares. He who possesses that blessing needs to haul tail ASAP before the winter comes knowing the Father will bless him, and a downtrodden people beyond their wildest dreams. This is why Yeshua, and His Father call us children. It's why I pray, and bemoan to the Father daily that He slays me, putting the fear of the Lord in the heathen and His Son Christ Jesus uses us for His purpose. God doesn't need us, we need Him. He's given us so much power, and authority. When you acquire it, use it for something other than satisfying your sinful, carnal, flesh minded desires. Men, don't behave like horn dogs, and women do not behave as Aholah, and Aholibah, 2 whores.

Numbers 32:24

24 Build you cities for your little ones, and folds for your sheep; and do that which hath proceeded out of your mouth.

Out of thine own mouth you have power to tread over snakes and scorpions. You can exorcise demons and devils out of your present life braking generational curses which is what I' want for a family that's disowned me. To God be the glory. God is telling us to declare a thing, and claim it. What a mighty, just God we serve. Your tongue will become a weapon to use against the lawless ones who use theirs recklessly in their attempts to get us arrested or murdered by local, and federal authorities. You can call it giving them a taste of their own medicine, it isn't. You're reclaiming what they've taken, stolen, including those of us they've murdered.

Isaiah 54:17

17 No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper; and every tongue that shall rise against thee in judgment thou shalt condemn. This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord, and their righteousness is of me, saith the Lord.

The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly. Speak positive prayers out loud if you can. If you live with your family or have a roommate pray in the closet. You'll have favor with God that many people won't. They rebuked the Lord, and their anger did tear perpetually, and they kept their wrath forever. When they use their privilege, which is what we call it more often than they, comprehending they’re fully aware knowing they use it with a Demonic, driven hatred. They persecute Black men, women, and children for reasons that are not godly, and the Father does not condone. They, and all the Earth will have to answer for our individual sins against the Father in the end.

Luke 10:19

19 Behold, I give unto you power to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy: and nothing shall by any means hurt you.

We don’t worship the same god as they do. They're praying to a god to erase us off the face of the Earth. Why hasn't he?.

Exodus 1:12

12 But the more they afflicted them, the more they multiplied and grew. And they were grieved because of the children of Israel.

Their birth rate is dropping steadily. For the first time in the history of the census they decreased in population globally while indigenous, and other races of people stayed steady or in our case increased. This is the reasoning behind these draconian abortion laws. They're trying to preserve themselves while God is eliminating the Earth of their bloody dominion. God is sending the wicked a message before the storm comes, but no one's listening. Their violence towards us is documented, and more often it's unprovoked. They continue with the guilty until proven worthy of their mercy dogmatic mantra which is racist BS. The Earth will be lulled back to sleep. When they're confident that their world isn't in danger of being challenged by anyone, especially us. That's when God will do things that will scare them right back to the caucasus mountains bringing destruction to those who've touched, bruised, and abused the Apple of His eye. Speak life into your angel spirit, don’t entertain the demon seed that's trying to kill you, and the rest of Earth's indigenous people. You have much authority, use it. Elohim. 9/23/2021

[health-is-in-you]

From Enough 14.

Social rebel, counterfeiter, bandit, modern Robin Hood – the list of titles with which our anarchist comrade Lucio Urtubia was honoured is long. His life, which sounds like an adventure novel, is a mirror of the revolutionary movements in Europe in the second half of the 20th century. Lucio Urtuba passed away today (18 July, 2020). Rest In Power Lucio!

Lucio Urtubia was born in 1931 in a small village in Navarre and grew up in poor conditions. When he was called up for military service, he deserted to France shortly afterwards, where he worked as a bricklayer from then on. He came into contact with anarchist groups and met his political foster father: the legendary Sabaté, who organized the armed resistance against the Franco dictatorship from France. Forging documents, hiding underground fighters and illegal fundraising activities play a major role in his life from then on. Numerous resistance organisations, which have a base of operations in France or are looking for a place to retreat, benefit from his skills: Black Panthers, Tupamaros, European guerrillas. Lucio’s solidarity is with every act of revolt aimed at a more just social order.

In 1962, he proposed to Che Guevara, then head of the National Bank of Cuba, to flood the world market with counterfeit dollar bills in order to destabilize the US economy. The proposal meets little approval on the Cuban side, but the idea remains alive in Lucio. In 1980 he succeeds in his greatest coup: by printing traveller’s cheques from Citibank with a value of several million dollars he brings the then most powerful bank in the world on its knees.

But the list of his activities is not completed. Lucio is also a master of conspiracy, however, who manages to spend only a few months in prison in his not exactly law-abiding life. He breaks the silence at the age of well over 70. There is a book and also a movie (Watch here) about Lucio Urtubia.

Lucio, The Good Bandit: Reflections of an Anarchist Marie Trigona, Toward Freedom (05/06/2008)

Outspoken and charismatic, Lucio speaks like a true anarchist. When asked what it means to be an anarchist, Lucio refutes the misperception of the terrorist, “The anarchist is a person who is good at heart, responsible.” Yet he makes no apologies for the need to destroy the current social order, “it’s good to destroy certain things, because you build things to replace them.”

Lucio has old friends in the Southern Cone. Funds from the forgery operatives helped hundreds from revolutionary organizations exile and finance clandestine actions against the bloody dictatorships which disappeared ten thousands of activists, students and workers during the 1970’s throughout Latin America. In Uruguay, funds from falsified Citibank travelers’ checks funded the guerilla group Tupamaros, in the US the Black Panthers and other revolutionary groups throughout Europe.

During his recent visit to South America, Lucio stayed at the worker run BAUEN Hotel in Argentina’s capital Buenos Aires. He was astounded by the accomplishments of the workers without bosses. At the BAUEN hotel, workers are putting into practice workers autogestíon or self-management. Self-management has been a mainstay of anarchist thought since the birth of capitalism. Rather than authority – obey relationship between capitalists and workers, self-management implies that workers put into practice an egalitarian system in which people collectively decide, produce and control their own destinies for the benefit of the community. But for such a system to work, participants have to be hard working and responsible, one of the most important attributes a man or woman should have according to Lucio. “The anarchist movement was built by workers. Without work we can’t talk about self-management, to put self-management into practice we need to know how to do things, to work. It’s easy to be bohemian.”

Lucio explains that his anarchism is based in his poor childhood in fascist Spain. “My anarchist origins are rooted in my experience growing up in a poor family. My father was leftist, had gone to jail because he wanted the automony of the Basque country. For me that’s not revolution, I’m not nationalist. With nationalism humanity has committed a lot of mistakes. When my father got out of jail he became a socialist. We suffered a lot. I went to look for bread and the baker wouldn’t give it to me, because we didn’t have money. For me poverty enriched me, I didn’t have to make any effort to lose respect for the establishment, the Church, private property and the State.”

In Spain, fascism persevered 30 years after the end of World War II. Hundreds were placed in jail for resisting the Franco dictatorship. Anthropologists have estimated that from the onset of the Spanish Civil War in July 1936 to Franco’s death in November 1975, Franco’s Nationalists killed between 75,000 and 150,000 supporters of the Republic.

Lucio exiled to France where he discovered anarchism. He had deserted the nationalist army and escaped to France. Paris in the 1960’s was a bourgeoning city for anarchist intellectuals, organizers and guerillas in exile. It was there that Lucio met members from the anarcho-syndicalist trade union, Confederación Nacional de Trabajo (CNT). He was anxious to participate.

During his early years in France, Lucio met Francisco Sabate, the legendary anarchist and guerilla extraordinaire. At this time Sabate, otherwise known by his nickname “El Quico” was the most sought after anarchist by the Franco regime. French police were also looking for Sabate, who led resistance against Franquismo. “When I met Quico, I was participating in the Juventud Libertarias. They asked me if I could help Sabate, me an ignorant, I didn’t know who he was.” Sabate used Lucio’s house as a hide out. The young Lucio, listened to Sabate’s tales of direct action and absorbed whatever wisdom he had to offer, like methods for sniffing out infiltrators. “I met guerillas that put me on the road to direct action and expropriations. Sabate taught me to lose respect for private property.”

It was then that Lucio began participating in bank robberies. “There are no bigger crooks than the banks,” says Lucio in the defense of expropriation. “[This was the] only means the anarchist had, without funding from industry or government representatives to fund them. The money was sent to those suffering from Franco’s regime.” Student organizations and worker organizations received the funds to carry out grass roots organizing. In other cases the money was used for the guerilla actions against Franco’s regime, such as campaigns for the release of political prisoners in the nationalist jails.

To save the lives of exiles, Lucio thought of a master plan to falsify passports so Spanish nationals could travel. “Passports for a refugee means being able to escape the country and lead safe lives elsewhere,” he explains. Not only in Europe but in the US and South America, dissidents used false ID’s to lead their lives and direct actions.

In 1977, Lucio’s group began forging checks as a direct form to finance resistance. Lucio was essentially the “boss” of the operation-he made, distributed and cashed the checks. The checks were harder to falsify than counterfeit bills. Lucio thought they should target the largest banking institution in the world, National City Bank. The distribution of the checks went to different subversive groups who used the funds to finance solidarity actions. Lucio explains that “no one got rich” from the checks. Most of the funds went to the cause. All over Europe, these checks with the same code number were cashed at the same time.

Lucio’s master plan cost City Bank tens of millions of dollars in forged travelers’ checks. But many say a much larger sum was expropriated. City Bank was at the mercy of the forger, who had cost so much that the bank had to suspend travelers checks, ruining the holiday for thousands of tourists. At the time, people did not use check cards or credit cards. Lucio was arrested in 1980 and found with a suitcase full of the forged checks. In the meantime during Lucio’s arrest, Citibank continued to receive false travelers’ checks.

Citbank became worried. Representatives from the bank agreed to negotiate. Lucio would be released if he handed over the printing plates for the forged checks. The exchange was made, and Lucio became a legend for his mastermind plan. Although his life as a forger ended at 50-years-of-age, his life as an anarchist continued.

Lucio had always worked as a bricklayer. “What’s helped me the most is my work, Anarchists were always workers.” Lucio-bricklayer, anarchist, forger and expropriator has left a legacy like his predecessors. “People like Loise Michel, Sabate, Durruti, all the expropriators taught me how to expropriate, but not for personal gain, but how to use those riches for change.” At 76-years-of-age he does not apologize for his actions. “I’ve expropriated, which according to the Christian religion is a sin. For me expropriations are necessary. As the revolutionaries say, robbing and expropriation is a revolutionary act as long as one doesn’t benefit from it.”

[nitrateglow]

Time for me to complain about THE IMMORTAL COUNT

You know a biography is bad when it says more about its author than it does its chosen subject. 

Arthur Lenning lets you know he is a cradle Lugosi fan, even having met the man several times as a youngster in the 1940s. sometimes, fannish enthusiasm can enrich a critical study or biography. Other times, it comes off not unlike a Jack Chick tract: obnoxious, ugly, and unable to tolerate any view that so much as nudges its accepted ideology. Unfortunately, Lenning’s book is very much the latter.

Some positives first: the first chapters are very good, going into Lugosi’s childhood, his time on the Hungarian stage, his sad first marriage, his political entanglements, and his struggles to make it in Hollywood, where American xenophobia prevented him from being seen as anything but a heavy. These chapters are rich with biographical information, tend to be more objective, and gave me insight into Lugosi’s views on acting as a profession. In essence, it was actually a biography for the first hundred pages of this five hundred page book.

The moment Lugosi becomes a horror icon with the Dracula play, the book transforms from a biography to a fanboyish catechism. I understand the book’s full title is The Immortal Count: The Films and Life of Bela Lugosi, so I did anticipate some film analysis, likely observing what made Lugosi’s style unique and which films made the biggest impression on the popular culture. I did not expect 50% of the book to be plot summaries combined with the kind of fanboy commentary you can find on IMDB’s user reviews pages. Sometimes, Lenning is insightful, such as when he discusses the fairy tale motifs of White Zombie or explains how a movie is made “cinematic” through editing rather than camera movement when discussing the oft-praised Spanish Dracula. Other times, he indulges in trying to “improve” movies he doesn’t like, either by coming up with fix-it fanfiction rewrites of cheap 1940s filler features that make Lugosi more prominent or informing us that Lugosi should have played this or that role that Boris Karloff or Lon Chaney Jr. made famous because Lugosi is God and should not have been denied anything!

The hatred Lenning appears to bear Boris Karloff floored me because it seemed more based in jealousy for Lugosi’s sake than anything else. Karloff made more money than Lugosi, was more supported by the studio, and had a better career on the whole (even though he too ended up in some dire crap towards the end, but this does not suit Lenning’s narrative, so he never observes that). Any positive anecdote about Karloff is dismissed because Lugosi once referred to Karloff as “a cold fish” and who’s going to distrust Lugosi (even though Lenning himself admits Lugosi was envious of Karloff and often made things up about his own background make himself seem more interesting)?

Every story or remark that painted Karloff as an aloof snob is taken at face value. Lenning even claims Karloff’s politeness was a façade for a prima donna nature, hiding an arrogant man who reveled in being more successful than Lugosi. It’s absolutely childish how he chooses to make Karloff a cartoon villain in this, even mocking Karloff’s looks in comparison to Lugosi’s “attractiveness” and “sexual appeal.”

Now, I don’t believe Karloff was a saint whatsoever, and I’m sure he and Lugosi had an awkward working relationship at best, but the many interviews and anecdotes I have perused about Karloff over the years do not match up with how Lenning paints him here.

(Needless to say, when Lenning praises Karloff’s performance in The Body Snatcher, I was actually floored—was this the same author or had someone else typed that??)

However, I was most annoyed with his treatment of Lillian Lugosi by the end. For much of the book, he seems sympathetic to her: Lugosi was extremely controlling in their relationship, forbidding her from wearing make-up or curling her hair, buying all her clothes, growing easily jealous anytime she so much as went shopping on a whim for fear she was really seeing another man. Lenning, the veritable pope of the One True Church of Lugosi, even claims Lugosi seemed to have more regard for his dogs than he did his wife! Yet at the end of the book, when he cites her calling her second husband the love of her life, he snidely remarks that the guy was a drunk and really no better than Lugosi—because how dare she prefer anyone to Lugosi even after twenty years of putting up with his crap!

It’s hard for me to share Lenning’s disdain for Lugosi Jr either. Lenning paints him as a cold son and money-grubber only interested in Lugosi’s image for lucrative purposes, though to be honest, I rarely blamed Jr. for not being so close to his father. Lugosi was constantly traveling to do stage work, the two of them did not share common interests (more than likely due to Lugosi being such an older father), and Jr. was bullied at school for having Dracula as his dad, making their bond all the more awkward. I’m not saying he was totally in the right and as far as I know he could be some Snidely Whiplash money-grubber, but considering how biased Lenning shows himself to be when dealing with everyone else in this book, I have a hard time trusting anything he says about anybody. Either you’re a true believer or you’re a “cold fish,” I guess.

The most cringeworthy thing about this book is that Lenning makes himself a character in Lugosi’s life drama. He chronicles in detail the times he met the actor at performances of Dracula in the 1940s. This would normally be charming. Lenning instead casts himself as a holy figure, a sign to the saddened Lugosi that there is at least one “Lugosi-ite” out there adoring his films! He almost seems to suggest he is the son Lugosi should have had, unlike the unappreciative Jr. Why, Jr. didn’t even read the first edition of Lenning’s Lugosi biography! How awful!

(No, I’m not even kidding. He does complain about this! After claiming that Jr. attempted to control a conversation Lenning had with Lillian Lugosi, poor, poor Lenning says, “Once again he said that he had not read my book! (Perhaps he will spare himself from reading this update as well.)” I don’t know about Jr., but I wish I had spared myself the effort!)

This self-pitying, dare I say self-righteous, attitude permeates the book, making it unbearable and exhausting to read. Lenning makes snide remarks about those who don’t like Lugosi’s style or who dare to interpret events and anecdotes in ways that make Lugosi seem like the bad guy. He even calls some of his detractors “smart-ass critics.” I get being frustrated when critics are being smart-asses about things you like—I really do. I still haven’t fully forgiven Roger Ebert for his review of John Carpenter’s The Thing*… but when you’re writing a biography, is it really the time to settle personal vendettas? Is it really time to call people names like you’re still in middle school? Why not be the bigger person and show some class instead of making smart-ass comments yourself?

Ugh, Lugosi really needs a new biography. He deserves better than this fanboyish diarrhea. It’s sad, because it’s well-researched… but the author taints every event with his own rose-tinted view of Lugosi and his sheer disdain for everyone else save for fellow zealots.

Anyway, I’m done. Holy crap…

* This is a joke. Kind of.

[foxlolpop]

My Theory On Kaleigh Day’s Death

(Not everyone in the fandom takes the extra content to heart, I certainly don’t but hang with me for bit. This is also purely a theory that the fandom can of course expand upon or ignore)

In the extra content Nora explains that Kaleigh had zero knowledge on the yakuza. That she “might have hidden her son a little bit better if she’d known”. This comment makes me wonder if Ms. Day could’ve turned into a less extreme version of Mary. It also reminds me of why Mary ran away with Little Neil: to protect him from becoming one of the Moriyamas investments and of course other things.

But even with all the running and planning they still got caught.

Furthermore, while it was Nathan chasing the duo down and not the Moriyamas this still demonstrates pretty early on in the series the dedication the mafia has to their investments. How valuable an investment is. This is further punctuated when Neil bargains for his life with Ichirou. And how did he bargain for his life? He told Ichirou about how he would go pro, bring in lots of money for the Moriyama empire, and essentially become the investment he was always meant to be.

Now that brings us back to how Neil became an investment. A deal gone sour after Mary ran or more specifically the man behind the deal: Nathan Wesninski.

Nathan is the yakuza’s hitman. Kengo’s right-hand man. His men tracked down an investment that cost them resources, time, and lots and lots of money. Neil is worth more than the millions Mary stole. He is also worth the cold hard cash the Moriyamas could’ve mooched off him with exy during the 8 years he was on the run and then some as an official Raven. Instead money, probably issued to Nathan by the Moriyamas (cause where else is he gonna to get it), is flushed down the drain in order to pinpoint Mary and Little Neil’s location.

Now that I’ve made the importance of what an investments can mean to a mafia crystal clear; let’s backpedal. Kaleigh Day.

Kaleigh Day is a cofounder of exy. She is a successful woman. And unbeknownst to her organized crime is booming because she and her college BFF (Testuji) took their class project to the next level.

She also has a kid. His name is Kevin Day and his mother built exy from the ground up. Knows the sport like the back of her hand and she’s probably taught him more than a few things. Her passion for the sport like a gene passed on to Little Kevin (doubly so because of his father but he doesn’t know that yet). They probably scrimmaged together and those are probably some of Kevin’s fondest memories. A time when he wasn’t abused. But Kaleigh and her college BFF took their class project to the next level. Kaleigh Day is a cofounder of exy and she’s taught him more than a few things.

In short, Kevin is probably very advanced in the sport and will only keep getting better as long as he keeps learning. He’s a prodigy or at the very least the makings of one and Kaleigh Day has laid down all the groundwork.

In order to continue to advance he needs to enrich his learning in the best way possible. How do we learn best, you ask? In a focused environment that “optimises the ability of students to learn.”

Without a doubt, in an incredibly twisted way, I would describe Evermore as the perfect learning environment for someone who wants to excel in exy beyond their wildest dreams. The castle also provides fear and stress and beatings that keep you line, and these are powerful motivators.

You can accomplish anything if pushed to the breaking point albeit losing pieces of yourself in the process. But this is the mafia, they don’t care about your breaking point. They see Little Kevin and they see dollar signs. They see the perfect investment and you already know how much they love their investments.

This leads us to Nathan Wesninski. The Butcher of Baltimore; a clever cover up for what’s really behind the cleaver. He takes care of somone’s problems, complications.

Kaleigh Day is definitely one of those and she just happens to be his latest assignment.

Andrew Minyard, a kid fresh from juvie, made Tilda’s death look like an accident. Why can’t a highly trained hitman do the same, maybe even do a better job? They both died in a car accident, you know.

Finally, we have Kevin again. A little kid utterly heartbroken. Grief-stricken. His mother is dead. He thinks he’s all alone in the world but like an angel sent from above Tetsuji appears. Little Kevin has probably met him before, he was his mother’s BFF and exy’s second half after all. Because of these factors Tetsuji is Kevin’s godfather.

So, Little Kevin is whisked away with the sweet promises of a friend (Riko), maybe a family, and a place that is exy, exy, exy 24/7 (exy: a way he could persevere his mother’s memory). It sounds like a dream after all that’s happened. Suddenly, the world doesn’t look so bleak anymore and he thinks that maybe, just maybe he won’t be alone after all.

Kevin does keep learning. He does keep getting better so much so that he ends up paying for it with his left hand and pieces of himself he never thought he could lose before. Kevin is also a stellar investment alongside Riko.

In The Kings’s Men Neil tells Ichirou how much Kevin was worth before Riko destroyed his hand (click the pictures for better viewing):

These numbers really emphasize how much Kevin was worth and how much the yakuza lost when they deemed him useless.

All in all, Kevin’s seven-digit net worth compenstates the loss of the beloved Kaleigh Day in more ways than one.

None of his money would have been accessible to the mafia if Kaleigh hadn’t died. Kevin probably wouldn’t have made that much money if he continued with exy by his mom’s side anyway because of the Riko & Kevin Ride-or-Die Brotherhood the Moriyamas sold to the media.

Since Tetsuji was Kaleigh’s BFF Riko and Kevin could’ve probaby still been like brothers if she had survived the accident, but I think that it wouldn’t have been as powerful as the story the Moriyamas painted: Kevin, a sad lonely orphan, being unofficially adopted into the lap of luxury, where he pursues his passion and gains a friendship (a home, a brother, a father figure, etc) to last the test of time. It’s essentially the ruins to riches trope, and it definitely dragged in more than a couple thousand.

———————————————————————

“optimises the ability of students to learn” this qoute is from this article in the first paragraph.

I used the extra content and The Foxhole Court Wikia for fact checking. My grammar is shit so sorry for any glaring mistakes.

Again, this is a theory. I dont really know if this could’ve happened, I’m just saying it’s a possibility. I love Kevin with all my heart and no shade towards his mom. She didn’t know about the mafia.

Let me know what you think <3

[lashaychabrilla]

Rick Simpson Prepares To Lead The Hemp Movement

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[ghostsandgod]

The Golden Key of Paradise

INTRODUCTION.

At first sight of this little book, that bears the high-sounding title of “The Golden Key of Paradise,” perhaps, dear reader, you will be somewhat curious to know whether its contents are as good as its title. Perhaps you are inclined to shrug your shoulders and feel as you do when you see advertised marvellous and infallible cures for all the ills that flesh is heir to.

No — be not deceived; this is a genuine key, and one you can easily manipulate. It is Perfect Contrition, which for the forty centuries (or more, according to many Biblical scholars) before the coming of Christ was the only means of salvation for all those who had committed sin, and which even now is destined to save myriads of souls. Look at its marvellous power. It can open Heaven every day, and every moment of each day. Especially is it efficacious if at the moment of death you cannot have at your side the priest, the dispenser of the divine mercies, an absence unfortunately only too common nowadays, on account of the number of sudden deaths. In this case, Perfect Contrition will be the last key which, with the grace of God, will open Heaven to you. But it is necessary to learn during life how to use this key at the moment of death. How many souls that otherwise would have been lost for all eternity have, by means of an Act of True Contrition, opened Paradise for themselves The learned and holy Cardinal Johann Baptist Franzelin said “If I could wander through the country preaching the Word of God, my favourite theme would be Perfect Contrition.” Golden words, dear reader, with which I fully agree; adding, however, that I would wish to do the same from the pulpits in the cities, where the occasions of sin are greater and the dangers to one s soul are innumerable.

PREFACE TO THE ITALIAN TRANSLATION.

THE Author, by a happy inspiration called this little book “The Golden Key of Paradise.” And, in fact, our true home, yours and mine, and of everybody else, is Heaven. This world in which we now live is not our true home. So true is this that, sooner or later, Death will drive us hence and send us to that Home Eternal. Now, in order to enter into the home of true and everlasting happiness, Heaven, we need a key with which to open the door. And in this little book you will find that key — a key of purest gold, fashioned by a zealous priest from the teachings of the Gospel and of the Catholic Church. This key is called Perfect Contrition.

Now, if Perfect Contrition is the Key to Heaven, it naturally follows that everybody should possess one, and know how to use it. And so, whoever you may be, or whatever may be your condition and state in life, this book is written specially for you.

Are you a priest? This pamphlet will call to your mind beautiful practical truths, the importance of which you may never have considered, and as you turn over these pages you will feel constrained to impart to your flock the wonderful knowledge that is yours.

Are you in a religious community? What peace can you not procure for yourself by frequently using this key.

Are you the father or mother of a family? Then accept this precious key to open the Gates of Heaven for yourself; and leave it as an heirloom to your children; they will thank you for it for all eternity.

Are you a teacher? Teach your charges the frequent use of this mystical key. Some day they will appreciate it.

Whatever you are, learn to use this golden key, and, should any of the thousand disasters so frequent nowadays overtake you, you have at hand the means of saving your soul.

Are you a good Catholic? Use this key frequently, for it led the saints to the apex of sanctity.

Are you a sinner? This key is made specially for you, for it shows you how to reopen the gates that you have closed by sin. I will go even further. Are you a heretic, an infidel in good faith, or one who, knowing his error, is now at death’s door, and has no time to embrace the True Faith or reconcile himself with God? Fortunate are you if this golden key should have come into your hands. It can save you from Hell and open Heaven for you. Fly, fly then, little book, like a butterfly with golden wings, enter into the houses of the rich and of the poor; go into the schools and workshops; fly over mountains and plains, over land and sea; find your way into the steamers and trains; penetrate the mines; ascend to the aeroplane in the clouds; where ever sin and death may be, there bring the light and consolation that are contained in your modest pages.

Key to Heaven.

What is Perfect Contrition?

FIRST of all, what is contrition? Later on we will see about that word “perfect.” Contrition is a grief of the soul, a detestation of sin committed. It must be accompanied by a firm resolution of amending one’s life and of sinning no more.

I. PERFECT CONTRITION. The Soul’s Sorrow.

Now, for real contrition, three conditions are necessary — it must he internal, universal, and supernatural.

(a) It must be internal or inward. It must come from the depths of the heart, and does not consist of acts pronounced by the lips without reflection or thought. It is not necessary to manifest our sorrow by sighs and tears. These may be signs of contrition, but they are not essential or necessary parts of it. Contrition rests in the soul and in the firm resolution of leaving our sin and returning to God.

(b) Our contrition must be universal — that is, it must be extended to all the sins, at least to all the mortal sins, that we have committed.

(c) Lastly, it must be supernatural, which means that it must be founded on some motive of faith — for example, on Hell, on Purgatory, on Heaven, on God, or on some similar motive. Our contrition would be natural, and thereby useless, if it were founded on some purely natural motive of interest or reason — as, for example, if we were sorry because our sins brought us some illness or dishonour or pecuniary loss. But if our sorrow is founded on some truth of our Faith — for example, the loss of Heaven or the fear of Hell — it is supernatural and meritorious.

Now, supernatural contrition may be either imperfect or perfect; and here we return to Perfect Contrition. Contrition is imperfect when we are sorry through fear of God. It is perfect when we are sorry through love of Him. In the first case, we are sorry for having offended God because we fear His just anger and punishment; in the second case, we are sorry because sin offends God, Who is so infinitely good and lovable.

Perfect Contrition springs from the perfect love of God, and our love for God is perfect when we love Him because He is infinitely perfect, infinitely beautiful, infinitely good in Himself, or because, by His innumerable gifts to us, He has shown His love for us. On the other hand, our love for God is imperfect when we love Him because we hope for some benefit from Him. But should this something be Himself in so much as He is our Supreme Good, then this would be perfect love.

From this, you will clearly see that when our love is imperfect we think principally of ourselves, of the benefits we have received; whereas, if it is perfect, we think principally of God — of the goodness of Him Who enriches us with His benefits. When our love is imperfect, we love the gifts we have received; when it is perfect, we love the Giver of these gifts, not so much for the gifts He gives as for the love and goodness that these gifts manifest in Him.

Sorrow Comes from Love.

Now, sorrow or contrition springs from love, and so it follows that our contrition will be perfect when we repent of our sins through the perfect love of God — that is, when we repent, because by sinning we offend God, Who is infinitely good and perfect and beautiful in Himself, and Who loves us so much. Our contrition will be imperfect if we repent through fear of God, because by sinning we have lost Heaven or merited the pains of Purgatory or Hell. When our sorrow is imperfect we think above all about ourselves, and of the punishment that our sins will bring on us in the next life in much the same way as a child is sorry for some fault because it fears a thrashing. With perfect contrition we think principally about God, about His greatness, His goodness, His beauty, His Love, all of which attributes we offend in sinning, and for which sins the God-Man, our Adorable Saviour, suffered so much. It is like a child repenting of a fault because it has grieved its parents, who are so good and loving, and have done so much for it. One other little example will help to explain all this much better. After Saint Peter denied his Divine Master, he thought of his sin, and, “going out, wept bitterly.” Why did he weep? Perhaps for the shame he would feel in front of the other Apostles? If this was the reason, then his sorrow was purely natural and without merit for Heaven. Perhaps he feared being deprived of his dignity as an Apostle and Prince of the Apostles, or perhaps he feared losing Heaven. These certainly would be worthy motives, but still his sorrow would be imperfect. No, No! Peter wept and repented because he had offended his beloved Master, Who was so good, so holy, so worthy of his love; he wept because he had repaid that love with the blackest ingratitude, and, as a consequence, his contrition was perfect, his sin was forgiven. With this golden key he had again reopened the doors of Heaven, which he had closed a moment before by his triple denial. And, dear reader, have you not as much reason to detest your own sins? Certainly. The benefits you have received are more numerous than the hairs on your head, and for each of these gifts you should exclaim with Saint John, “Let us love God Who has first loved us.”

The Love of God.

And how has God loved us? “I have loved you,” He says, “with an eternal love. I have had pity on you and drawn you to Myself.” (Jeremiah 31:3.) So He has loved us with an eternal love. Right from eternity, before you were born — aye, even before this world was made or the angels themselves were created. He turned towards you one of those loving looks that pierce the very heart; for you He created the heavens and the earth, for you He prepared a body and a soul with all the tenderness of a mother preparing for the coming of her child. It is God Who gave you life and keeps you in life; it is He Who from day to day gives you all those natural goods that you enjoy. Such a thought should be sufficient to induce the very pagans to the perfect love of God. But how much more reason have not you, a Christian, a Catholic, to love Him with a perfect love — you who experience a signal proof of His goodness and love, for “He has pity on you”? You, in consequence of the fall of our First Parents, were condemned with the rest of mankind, but your Heavenly Father sent His only Son to be your Saviour and to redeem you with His Precious Blood. During His Agony in the Garden, He thought of you. He thought of you as His Blood flowed from the wounds caused by the cruel scourges and crown of thorns. It was of you He thought as He laboured under the heavy Cross up the hill of Calvary. It was of you He thought and for you He suffered as He expired in shame and agony on the Cross. Yes, He thought of you with as tender a love, as if you were the only person in the world, so that you can truly say with Saint Paul, “He loved me and gave Himself up to death for me.” What conclusion can you draw from all this? This, and this only — “Let us love God who has first loved us.”

Besides, God drew you to Himself by Baptism, the first and most important grace in this life, and by the Church into whose bosom you were then admitted. How many there are who find the True Church only after trials and sacrifices of every kind! How many, again, who never know it! But through the love and mercy of Almighty God, you were endowed with the gift of the True Faith in your cradle. He continues to draw you to Himself by means of the Sacraments and of innumerable other graces, both internal and external. You are, as it were, submerged in an ocean — in the ocean of divine love and mercy. Not satisfied with all these proofs of His love, He wishes to crown all these favours by placing you in Heaven, near to Himself, where you will be eternally happy. What return can you make for all this love? Nothing but love can repay love, and so do not all these proofs of His infinite love force us to love Him and to exclaim with Saint Paul, “Caritas Christi urget nos”? ‘The love of Christ constrains us’ to love Him in return.

Now, let us examine a little. How have you corresponded to the love of a God so loving and so lovable? Undoubtedly, with ingratitude and sin. But do you not now repent of such ingratitude? Ah! I have no doubt but that at this moment your heart burns with a desire of repairing such ingratitude by means of a whole-hearted love. If such is the case, then at this very moment, you have Perfect Contrition — that contrition, namely, that is founded on the love of God and is called Perfect Contrition, or Contrition of Love.

But this contrition may be of a still higher degree and consist in loving God simply because He is infinitely perfect, infinitely glorious, and worthy of being loved above every other thing, independent of His mercies towards us. Let us make a comparison. Astronomers tell us that in the firmament there are stars as large and as brilliant as the sun, but so far away that they are invisible to the naked eye. Now, though these stars give us neither light nor warmth, are they not as worthy of our admiration as the sun itself? And suppose, now, that man had never experienced any benefits from that eternal Star — the Love of God; suppose that Almighty God had not created the earth or any living creature; He would not on this account be any less wise, less grand, less beautiful, less glorious, less worthy of love, because in Himself and through Himself, He is the Supreme Good. This is what we mean when we recite the words, “I detest my sins above every other evil because they displease You, my God, Who for Your infinite goodness are so deserving of all my love.” Reflect for a moment on the love of God — above all, think of the manifestation of this love in the sufferings of Our Divine Saviour. By this means, you will easily understand it, and, like a fiery dart, it will pierce and inflame your heart. Behold the practical way of exciting yourself to Perfect Contrition.

It is related in the life of the Curé d’Ars that on one occasion, a lady, a perfect stranger to him, asked him to pray for her husband, a careless Catholic, who had just died suddenly and without receiving the Sacraments. “He was so careless, Father,” she said, weeping; “he did not go to his duties, and whatever will become of him?" “Madam,” replied the saintly priest, “do you not remember the bouquet of flowers he picked every Saturday to decorate Our Lady’s altar? In return Our Blessed Lady obtained for him the grace to make an act of Perfect Contrition before dying, and he is saved.” The Curé had never before seen that lady, nor did he know her husband, but it was a fact that every Saturday he picked that bunch of flowers. Our Lady, in return for that very small token of love he showed her, placed in his hands at that supreme moment the Golden Key of Paradise.

II. HOW TO OBTAIN PERFECT CONTRITION.

First of all, we must bear in mind that Perfect Contrition is a grace — a great grace — from God. We should therefore constantly pray for it. Ask for it, not only when you wish to make an Act of Contrition, but often during the day. It should be the object of your most ardent desires. Repeat often, “My God! Give me perfect sorrow for my sins.” And if you sincerely mean what you say, Our Lord will hear your prayer.

Before the Crucifix.

Besides this, here is an easy way of making an Act of Contrition. Kneel down before a crucifix in a church or in your room, or, if you cannot do this, imagine yourself to be in the presence of Jesus Christ, and, while looking at His wounds, think for a few moments, and then repeat these or similar words, “Who is This nailed to a Cross? It is Jesus — my God and Saviour. And see how He suffers! His Body covered with wounds and blood; His Soul submerged in anguish and humiliations. Why does He suffer? For the sins of mankind, and so for mine also. In the abyss of His torments, He is thinking of me. He is suffering for me. He is making reparation for my sins.” Remain there at the foot of the Cross while the Blood of your Saviour falls drop by drop on your soul. Ask yourself how you have corresponded with these proofs of love. Call to mind your past sins, and, forgetting for a moment both Heaven and Hell, repent because your sins have reduced your Saviour to so pitiable a state. Promise Him that you will not crucify Him again, and then slowly and fervently repeat the Act of Contrition. Better still, repeat those words of sorrow that will spontaneously rise up in your heart, now softened by grace and filled with a holy bitterness.

Three Visits.

It will not be out of place to call to mind here what Saint Charles Borromeo taught his penitents when they went to Confession. “Do you wish,” he used to say, “to know an easy way of exciting yourselves to true sorrow for your sins? Make three little visits — the first above, the second below, the third in the middle. Your visit up above will show you Paradise, which you have renounced for some empty pleasure, for some sinful thought, or word or act. The displeasure that will arise in your heart at the thought of this loss will be good attrition, or imperfect contrition, and in Confession will suffice to wash away your sins.

“Your visit below will show you that frightful place in which you would be now if God had exercised His justice — that place where you would for ever suffer the torment of fire, far from your true home, which is Heaven. The sorrow arising from this consideration is also excellent, and sufficient in Confession.

“Your third visit will show you Christ crucified and dying for you on Calvary amid pains and insults of every description. The knowledge that the Crucified One is Infinite Goodness Itself, your greatest Benefactor, Whom, instead of loving, you have insulted and crucified, will awaken in your heart sentiments of love and sorrow that will wipe away your sins even before you enter the confessional.”

Dear reader, remember these three visits of Saint Charles, not only when you go to Confession, but each time you wish to excite yourself to Perfect Contrition.

III. IS IT DIFFICULT TO MAKE AN ACT OF PERFECT CONTRITION?

No doubt, it is more difficult to make an act of Perfect Contrition than an Imperfect one, which suffices when we go to Confession. But still, there is no one who, if he sincerely wishes it, cannot, with the grace of God, make an act of Perfect Contrition. Sorrow is in the will, not in the senses or feelings. All that is needed is that we repent because we love God above everything else; that is all. True it is that Perfect Contrition has its degrees, but it is none the less perfect because it does not reach the intensity and sublimity of the sorrow of Saint Peter, of Saint Mary Magdalene, or of Saint Aloysius. Such a degree is very desirable, but is by no means necessary. A lesser degree, but, provided it proceeds from the love of God, and not through fear of His punishments, is quite sufficient. And it is very consoling to remember that for the 4000 years (or more, according to many Biblical scholars) before the coming of Christ the only means sinners had of obtaining pardon was this same Perfect Contrition. There was no Sacrament of Penance in those days. Even today for thousands — aye, for millions — of pagans, of non-Catholics, and of Catholics, too, who have no time to call a priest to their bedside, the only means of pardon and salvation is an act of Perfect Contrition.

Now, if it is true that God does not wish the death of a sinner, it follows that He does not wish to impose on His creatures a contrition or sorrow beyond their powers, but one that is within the reach of everyone. And so, if millions of poor creatures who, through no fault of their own, live and die outside the True Fold, if these can obtain the grace of Perfect Contrition, do you imagine, dear reader, that it will be difficult for you — you who enjoy the happiness of being a Christian and a Catholic, and so are capable of receiving much greater graces than they — you who are far better instructed in things divine than the poor infidels are?

But I dare to go even further. Often, very often, without even thinking of it, you have Perfect Contrition for your sins. For example, when you hear Mass devoutly or make the Stations of the Cross properly; when you reflect before your crucifix or an image of the Sacred Heart. What is more, every time you say the “Our Father,” in the first three petitions you make three acts of perfect charity, each of which is sufficient to cancel every sin from your soul.

Very often, a few words suffice to express the most ardent love and the most profound sorrow — for instance, the little ejaculations, “My Jesus, mercy,” “My God and my All,” “My God, I love You above all things,” “My God, have mercy on me, a poor sinner.” Aided by the grace of God (and God has promised to give to all who ask), it is by no means difficult to make an Act of Contrition. Take the case of David, who for one curious look fell into the sin of adultery, and then of murder. Having committed these sins, he lived on quite unconcerned about the state of his soul till the prophet Nathan came to reprove him. And this reproach induced David to make an act of Perfect Contrition in a few words, “Peccavi Domino” (“I have sinned against the Lord” 2 Samuel 12:13). So efficacious was his contrition that the prophet, inspired by God, exclaimed, “The Lord has forgiven you.”

Take, again, the case of Mary Magdalen — a public sinner. She did not even say one word, but simply wept at the Feet of Jesus. Jesus saw the sorrow in her heart, and, turning to her, said: “Woman! because you have loved much your sins are forgiven you.” See, then, how little is needed — only to love God above everything. And love demands neither time nor trouble; it suffices to think of Jesus crucified, for it is impossible then not to love Him, and to be sorry for the sins by which we have crucified Him.

Remember the good thief — a robber condemned to death — and yet for those few words spoken from his heart, “Lord, remember me when You shall come into Your Kingdom,” he was immediately promised Heaven by Christ Himself: “Today, you shall be with Me in Paradise.”

Lastly, look at Saint Peter, who denied his Master three times. Jesus looked at him; Peter said not a single word, but, “going out, wept bitterly.” He was forgiven; he was chosen by Christ to be His first successor on earth — the Prince of the Apostles — and to-day is one of the most glorious saints in Heaven.

Dear readers, should we ever have the misfortune to offend God, let us give a look at the tabernacle where Jesus is palpitating with love for us, or let us think of Calvary. Our hearts will be touched. We will repent. We shall be forgiven and saved.

IV. THE EFFECTS OF PERFECT CONTRITION.

Forgiveness Even Before Confession.

Suppose the person before he makes an act of Perfect Contrition is in the state of mortal sin. Immediately, before even he goes to Confession — so long as he has the intention of going when opportunity offers — all his sins are forgiven. Not only is the eternal punishment of Hell remitted, but all his merits, which he had lost by sinning, are again restored to him. And if the person making this Act of Contrition is in the state of grace, his soul is strengthened against future temptations, his venial sins are forgiven, his purgatory is lessened, and the love of God increases in his soul. Behold the wonderful effects of the mercy of God produced in the soul of the Christian, and even in that of the pagan in good faith, by an act of Perfect Contrition.

Contrition Does Not Dispense With Confession.

Perhaps in reading this you will be surprised and inclined to say, “I can well understand that at the moment of death we should ask for the grace of Perfect Contrition, and that at that supreme moment, it produces these wonderful effects, but I can scarcely credit that it has this power at all times, and when we are well and strong.” And yet, all this is perfectly true; it is as solid as the Rock on which the Church is built. In short, it is as certain as the Word of God. In the Council of Trent, the Church, under the assistance of the Holy Ghost, declared “that Perfect Contrition — that is, that which proceeds from the love of God — justifies man and reconciles him with God even before the reception of the Sacrament of Penance.” Of course, it is understood that such a person, if a Catholic, has at least the implicit intention of going to Confession. Now, the Council of Trent says nothing about the moment of death — it makes no distinction of time or circumstances, and so always and at any moment during life, this golden key opens the gates of Paradise. This declaration of Holy Church is simply the explanation of those words of Our Divine Saviour, “If anyone loves Me” (and no one can love Him without being sorry for having offended Him) — “if anyone loves Me, My Father will love Him, and We will come and dwell in him.” Now, since God cannot dwell in a soul stained with mortal sin, it follows that Perfect Contrition, or the Contrition of Charity, as it is called, banishes sin from the soul.

Such has always been the teaching of the Church, and when a heretic denied it, he was condemned by Rome. If, as we have already seen, Perfect Contrition produced these wonderful effects in the Old Law — the Law of Fear and Justice — with what greater reason should it not do so in the New Law — the Law of Mercy and Love?

But, seeing how efficacious Perfect Contrition is, seeing how it cleanses the soul even before Confession, you may be inclined to say, “Why, then, go to Confession at all? Was not Confession instituted by Jesus Christ for the remission of sins? And if Perfect Contrition remits sin even before Confession, where is the necessity of Confession?” This objection or difficulty is answered in the Catechism: “If we fall into sin we should make an Act of Contrition and go to Confession as soon as we can.” And the reason is because, though Perfect Contrition produces the same effects as Confession, it does not do so independently of Confession. Confession is the ordinary means instituted by Christ for the forgiveness of sin, and Perfect Contrition supposes the intention of confessing those sins already forgiven by this Act of Contrition. Without this intention, an Act of Contrition would not remit a single mortal sin. Should a person afterwards neglect to go to Confession, at least within the year, he would commit a mortal sin by wilfully disobeying one of the Commandments of the Church. So, bear in mind that in order to make a good Act of Contrition we must have the intention of going to Confession. But when? Must one go at the first opportunity? Strictly speaking, no; since we are obliged to go but once a year, except in special circumstances — as, for instance, when we wish to receive Holy Communion. However, all theologians vividly exhort us to go as soon as possible, and for several reasons. We are more certain then that our sins are forgiven, for our contrition may not have been perfect. We thus enjoy greater peace of conscience, and we enrich our souls with the precious graces annexed to the Sacrament of Penance. When, for instance, you meet with an accident and injure, say, your hand or foot, what do you do? You immediately apply such home remedies as you know of, and then call the doctor at the first opportunity, for his prescriptions, you know, are authentic. And you should do the same for an injury to your soul — immediately say an Act of Contrition, which is the home remedy, and then, as soon as possible, have recourse to your spiritual doctor, who is your Confessor.

Again, someone might be inclined to say, “Since it is so easy to obtain pardon by means of an Act of Perfect Contrition, I need not worry any more. I can sin without scruple, and then simply make an Act of Contrition, and all will be well.” Dear reader, anyone who would reason in this way would not have the shadow of sorrow. How could he say he loved God above everything when he intends to offend Him without scruple? When one is really sorry for having done something, he is resolved never to do it again. It may happen, and often does happen, that after one has sincerely repented of a sin, he is tempted again, and again falls into the same sin. This is quite a different thing. His contrition was good, because at the moment his resolution was sincere; but later, under a fresh temptation, he unfortunately fell again. All he can do is to repent once more, and resolve more firmly than ever to be more vigilant in the future.

Perfect Contrition is a great help to all those who sincerely wish to keep in the state of grace — to all those who, in spite of good intentions, through frailty, fall from time to time into mortal sin. But should anyone wish to abuse it as a means of sinning more freely, for him, instead of being a divine remedy, it would turn into an infernal poison.

Saint Augustine is the model of Perfect Contrition. Having spent a sinful youth and early manhood, he repented, and in his Confessions says: “Too late, oh Eternal Goodness! have I learned to know You, but for the future I will love You, I will never again offend You.” See how he coupled with his sorrow the resolution of sinning no more.

V. WHY IS PERFECT CONTRITION SO IMPORTANT, AND, AT TIMES, EVEN NECESSARY?

It is important during life, and especially at the moment of death, for the following reasons: —

Friends of God.

What greater happiness can we wish for in this life than to be in the state of sanctifying grace? It is this which beautifies the soul, which makes it a child of God and an heir to Heaven. It converts every good work and every suffering patiently borne into acts of merit. It is, as it were, a magic wand, converting everything into heavenly gold. On the other hand, what more unfortunate being is there than a person in mortal sin? All his past merits are lost, his soul is in danger of hell, all his good works, all his sufferings, even his prayers, are without the least merit for Eternity. How important, then, to be in the state of grace. And if a person does fall from this state, how can he again acquire it? There are two means — Confession and Perfect Contrition. Confession is the ordinary means, but as it is sometimes very difficult, and even impossible, to go to Confession, Almighty God, in His Goodness, has given us an extraordinary means, which is Perfect Contrition.

Suppose, which God forbid, that someday you have the misfortune of committing a mortal sin. After the distractions of the day, when you are at home in the quiet of the evening, your conscience will begin to trouble you, you will begin to feel ill at ease, and perhaps frightened, and with very good reason, too. What are you to do? God places in your hands the golden key that will reopen for you the Gates of Heaven that you closed during the day. Make an Act of Contrition from the motive of the love of God; resolve to sin no more, and to go to Confession when you can; then go peacefully to bed.

You are at peace with God, and if you die during the night, you will be saved.

On the contrary, how pitiable is the state of the man who is ignorant of Perfect Contrition! He goes to bed at night and rises in the morning an enemy of God; he continues in this fearful state for days and weeks, perhaps for months and years. This profound darkness into which his soul is plunged is unbroken except for a few days after each Confession; he then sins again, and remains in this state till his next Confession. Unhappy man! To live practically all his life in mortal sin, an enemy of God, without merits for Heaven, and in constant danger of being lost eternally.

Before Holy Communion.

Of course, you would not think of going to Holy Communion after having committed a mortal sin and before going to Confession. Saint Paul insists: “Let a man prove himself first.” (1 Corinth 11:28.) Let him go to Confession, and then partake of the Eucharistic Bread. Perfect Contrition is an efficacious, but at the same time an extraordinary, means of obtaining pardon — a means to be used when we cannot conveniently go to Confession, and we always have an opportunity of going before Communion. Still, we would do well to make an Act of Contrition immediately before Communion, to purify our souls more and more, and to receive more abundant fruits from this most holy Sacrament.

Again, the practice of making frequent Acts of Contrition is most advantageous for one who habitually lives in the state of grace. Apart from a special revelation from God, we cannot know for certain whether we are in His friendship or not; but every Act of Contrition lessens our anxiety on this point. Again, it often happens that we are in doubt as to whether we have given consent to a temptation or not. What are we to do? Examine our conscience? This is useless, for it will only bring back the temptation again, especially if against holy purity; and, moreover, we will never decide whether we have consented or not. No; make an Act of Perfect Contrition, as Saint Francis de Sales was accustomed to do, and worry no more. And even if it were revealed to us that we are in the state of grace, Perfect Contrition would still be most advisable. Every act increases sanctifying grace in our souls, one degree of which is worth more than all the riches of this world. Each act cancels any venial sins that stain our souls, which, in consequence, increase in fervour and sanctity. Each act of perfect love remits some of our purgatory. What did Our Divine Saviour say to Mary Magdalen? “Because you have loved much, much is forgiven you.” If, in order to lessen our purgatory, we gain Indulgences, do good works, give alms, then the perfect love of God, which is the queen of virtues, merits the very first place among all the virtuous acts we perform.

Finally, every Act of Contrition strengthens our souls, and so increases our confidence of obtaining that greatest of all graces — the grace of final perseverance. What accumulation of graces does not this practice of frequent acts of Perfect Contrition obtain for us!

At the Moment of Death.

But, if this practice is so important during life, it reaches the height of its importance at the moment of death, especially when death comes too suddenly to call the priest. Take the case when, some years ago, a fire broke out in a large tenement house and many were cut off from escape by the flames. Among these was a boy of twelve years, who, falling on his knees, loudly recited an Act of Contrition, and invited all to join with him. How many, perhaps, of those unfortunate victims owe their eternal salvation to that boy? Now, dangers surround us every day. You or I, which God forbid, may one day be the victim of an accident — a kicking or bolting horse, a motor-car out of control, a slip on a stairs, a fall off a tram or train, a falling tree — there are a thousand and one ways by which death may come suddenly. A stroke may come when we are at our work or at our meals — suddenly, when least expected. Someone may run for a priest, but he may not arrive in time. What are you to do? Immediately make an act of Perfect Contrition. Don’t wait to see if the priest will arrive in time, but immediately repent for having offended and crucified so good a God. You will be saved. Perfect Contrition will be for you the Golden Key of Paradise.

But do not delude yourself with the thought that you will put off your repentance till the moment of death, and that then you will make an act of Perfect Contrition. Perfect Contrition is a grace given only to those of good will, and if anyone were to abandon himself to a life of sin with the hope of a death-bed repentance, he would find himself face to face with a Judge Who will say, “You will seek Me, but you will die in your sins.” (See John 8:21.)

Will I have sufficient time in case of a sudden death to make an Act of Contrition? With the grace of God, yes. It requires very little time, especially if during life you have made a practice of exciting yourself frequently; it is not necessary to say even one word. Besides, when death is imminent, instants seem like hours. The mind is very active, and, added to this, Almighty God will be most lavish with His graces at that supreme moment.

What irreparable evils are caused through ignorance at the time of an accident! People rush from every side to render assistance. Some begin to cry; everyone loses his head; one rushes for a doctor, perhaps another for a priest; someone calls for water and begins to apply first-aid remedies — and all the time the unfortunate victim is dying. Except for the one who sent for the priest, no one has compassion on his soul — no one suggests an Act of Contrition. Should you ever be present at an accident, run quickly but calmly to the victim, give him a crucifix to kiss if you have one, and then slowly and clearly ask him to repeat with his heart what you are about to say. Then slowly and distinctly repeat an Act of Contrition, even though the dying man may not seem to hear or understand you. A soul that you may save in this way will be your crown in Heaven.

Do you know, dear reader, who will most naturally make an Act of Contrition when necessity arises? He, of course, who was most accustomed to make one every day, in every danger, after every sin, only such a one, when the occasion arises, will know how to manage quickly and swiftly the Golden Key of Paradise.

VI. WHEN SHOULD WE MAKE AN ACT OF CONTRITION?

Every Night.

All you who have followed me thus far, I beg of you, for the love of God and of your immortal souls, to make this act every night before retiring. This I ask, not because you are obliged in conscience to do so, but because I know it is for your good. Do not tell me that daily examination of conscience and Perfect Contrition are good only for priest and religious; don’t make the excuse that you have not the time, or are too tired in the evenings. For how long does it take to make an Act of Contrition? Half an hour? A quarter of an hour? No; a few minutes are quite sufficient. I suppose you say a few prayers before going to bed. Very well! Having finished these prayers, think for a moment or two as to what sins you have committed during the day — you will hardly need to think if you have fallen grievously, for such a sin will rise naturally to your remembrance — then slowly and fervently recite an Act of Contrition, preferably before a crucifix or picture of Our Lady. And then go to bed in peace, for you are at peace with God. Begin this very evening, and never omit this most excellent practice. Should you ever have the misfortune of committing a mortal sin, do not remain in this awful state for an instant — on the spot, or at least before going to bed, say an Act of Contrition, and then go to Confession when you can.

One day, dear reader, sooner or later, the hour of your death will come, and if, which God forbid, it comes suddenly, you now know the key with which to open Heaven. If you have been faithful in making frequent Acts of Contrition during life, I assure you that you will have both the time and the grace to make one at that supreme moment, and thus save your soul. And if you are given sufficient time to prepare for death, let your last prayer be an act of love towards God, your Creator, your Redeemer, and your Saviour — an act of sincere and perfect contrition for all the sins of your whole life. Then throw yourself with childlike confidence into the arms of Divine Mercy, for God will be for you a merciful and compassionate Judge.

And now I leave you. Read and re-read this little book. Get others to read it, and put into practice its precious lessons. Often repeat your Act of Contrition, a simple means, as you have seen, of obtaining pardon, the supreme and only means in case of necessity, a source of grace both during life and particularly at the hour of death—in short, “THE GOLDEN KEY OF PARADISE.”

VARIOUS ACTS OF CONTRITION.

1. O my God, I am sorry that I have sinned against You, for You are so good; I will never sin again. O pardon me and help me with Your grace.

2. O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended You, and I detest my sins above every other evil; because they displease You, my God, Who, for Your infinite goodness, are so deserving of all my love; and I firmly resolve, by Your holy grace, never more to offend You, and to amend my life.

3. O my God, from the bottom of my heart I am sorry for all my sins, because by them I deserve Your just punishment in this life and in the next; because I have been ungrateful to You, my greatest Benefactor, and, above all, because I have offended You, the Most Perfect and the Most Amiable Good, my Saviour, Who has died on the Cross for my sins, I am firmly resolved to amend my life, never more to offend You, and to avoid the occasions of sin.

4. O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended You, because You are so very good, and I firmly purpose by the help of Your grace not to offend You again.

*****

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Thomas Piketty's new book uses data to trace how inequality changes ideology

French economist Thomas Piketty changed the world in 2014 with his magisterial Capital in the Twenty-First Century, a book that reported out an incredibly ambitious project to map out three centuries' worth of capital flows, and from that, to derive an empirical answer about whether markets are a machine for finding smart people and allocating capital to them so that they can invent things that make us all better off ("meritocracy"), or whether they simply make the people who happened to get rich (possibly by inventing something, more often by inheriting wealth or by being a sociopathic looter) even richer (spoiler: r>g, which means that markets' long-run function is to increase inequality by allocating ever-larger pools of capital to rich people who don't do much that's socially beneficial with it).

Here's an example of how markets -- even ones with lots of growth -- are much better at enriching the rich than making us all richer, from the 2014 edition:

All large fortunes, whether inherited or entrepreneurial in origin, grow at extremely high rates, regardless of whether the owner of the fortune works or not. To be sure, one should be careful not to overestimate the precision of the conclusions one can draw from these data, which are based on a small number of observations and collected in a somewhat careless and piecemeal fashion. The fact is nevertheless interesting.

Take a particularly clear example at the very top of the global wealth hierarchy. Between 1990 and 2010, the fortune of Bill Gates -- the founder of Microsoft, the world leader in operating systems, and the very incarnation of entrepreneurial wealth and number one in the Forbes rankings for more than ten years -- increased from $4 billion to $50 billion. At the same time, the fortune of Liliane Bettencourt -- the heiress of L'Oréal, the world leader in cosmetics, founded by her father Eugène Schueller, who in 1907 invented a range of hair dyes that were destined to do well in a way reminiscent of César Birotteau's success with perfume a century earlier -- increased from $2 billion to $25 billion, again according to Forbes.

In other words, Liliane Bettencourt, who never worked a day in her life, saw her fortune grow exactly as fast as that of Bill Gates, the high-tech pioneer, whose wealth has incidentally continued to grow just as rapidly since he stopped working. Once a fortune is established, the capital grows according to a dynamic of its own, and it can continue to grow at a rapid pace for decades simply because of its size. Note, in particular, that once a fortune passes a certain threshold, size effects due to economies of scale in the management of the portfolio and opportunities for risk are reinforced by the fact that nearly all the income on this capital can be plowed back into investment. An individual with this level of wealth can easily live magnificently on an amount equivalent to only a few tenths of percent of his capital each year, and he can therefore reinvest nearly all of his income. This is a basic but important economic mechanism, with dramatic consequences for the long-term dynamics of accumulation and distribution of wealth. Money tends to reproduce itself.

One of the corollaries of this rich-get-richer phenomenon is that it breeds a belief in "hereditary meritocracy," whose argument goes like this: "I deserve my riches because I did something special. My kids inherited my riches (because rich people have dismantled any mechanisms for preventing intergenerational wealth transfers by the super-wealthy), and they're rich too, even though, objectively, they have not done anything great. But we live in a meritocracy! Otherwise my wealth might be illegitimate. If we live in a meritocracy and my kids are rich despite not having done anything great, it must be because they are great. That is, in addition to inheriting the money I got from doing something great, they also inherited my capacity for greatness. My money doesn't just prove that I did something amazing, it proves that I have amazing blood, which I have passed on, and which the market has recognized by allocating all that capital to my kids."

In other words, inequality needs ideology to stabilize it. When you're starving and someone's useless kids are flaunting their third solid gold Bentley by driving through town, terrorizing you and your starving neighbors, the temptation to build guillotines begins to mount.

Rich people can offset the guillotine risk by buying guard labor, and they are, but this has diminishing returns (including the problem of hiring guards to protect you from your guards), and so the market finds more efficient ways to stabilize inequality.

The most important of these is ideology: inculcating a belief that the system is just. This is hard, and it's a long-term project, but if you can convince people that they're not poor, merely "temporarily embarrassed millionaires", you can get them to do their own guard-labor, in their heads, before they even go looking for lumber to build those guillotines.

The rich people of the world have spent lavishly, over decades, to promote the idea of markets as meritocratic, and, in so doing, have (at least partly inadvertently) kept alive the eugenic idea of "good blood" -- which explains a lot about the rise of neo-aristocratic rich racists who find in Donald Trump (and his cohort around the world) a welcome fusion of racism and plutocratic policies.

Now, Piketty has penned a new book (currently available in France as "Capital et idéologie," forthcoming in English as Capital and Ideology") in which he uses the same data-driven econometric methods combined with history and sociology to build up an account of the relationship between inequality and ideas.

Over at Promarket, Branko Milanovic (previously) reviews Capital and Ideology, making it sound really exciting. In particular, Piketty focuses on the transformation of labor parties into liberal parties whose core constituency is the middle class -- a really pressing issue as left wing parties around the world are riven by internal struggles between leftists and liberals.

I'm interested in the ways that inequality has given rise to conspiratorial thinking. It's not like antivax arguments got better over 70 years: but they somehow got more convincing. There are people who worry about machine learning who attribute this to Big Tech's ability to use targeted advertising and algorithms to change peoples' minds, but I think it's much more productive to look to the material circumstances of people who believe unconvincing ideas than it is to reinvent junk science like "neurolinguistic programming" (dressed up in machine learning hype) to explain how people ended up so distrustful of our states and institutions and their truth-seeking capacity that they're willing to believe that the Earth is flat.

https://boingboing.net/2019/09/12/brahmin-left.html

[theuncannytruthteller]

Ethel Waters (October 31, 1896 – September 1, 1977) was an American blues, jazz and gospel singer and actress.

She frequently performed jazz, big band, and pop music, on the Broadway stage and in concerts, but she began her career in the 1920s singing blues.

Her best-known recordings include "Dinah," "Stormy Weather," "Taking a Chance on Love," "Heat Wave," "Supper Time," "Am I Blue?" and "Cabin in the Sky," as well as her version of the spiritual "His Eye Is on the Sparrow." Waters was the second African American, after Hattie McDaniel, to be nominated for an Academy Award. She was also the first African-American woman to be nominated for an Emmy Award, in 1962.

Waters was born in Chester, Pennsylvania, on October 31, 1896, as a result of the rape of her teenaged mother, Louise Anderson (believed to have been 13 years old at the time, although some sources indicate she may have been slightly older), by John Waters, a pianist and family acquaintance from a mixed-race middle-class background. He played no role in raising Ethel. Soon after she was born, her mother married railroad worker Norman Howard. Ethel used the surname Howard as a child, before reverting to her father's name of Waters. She was raised in poverty and never lived in the same place for more than 15 months. She said of her difficult childhood, "I never was a child. I never was cuddled, or liked, or understood by my family."

Waters grew tall, standing 5' 9½" in her teens. According to women-in-jazz historian and archivist Rosetta Reitz, Waters's birth in the North and her peripatetic life exposed her to many cultures.

Waters married at the age of 13, but her husband was abusive, and she soon left the marriage and became a maid in a Philadelphia hotel, working for $4.75 per week. On her 17th birthday, she attended a costume party at a nightclub on Juniper Street. She was persuaded to sing two songs and impressed the audience so much that she was offered professional work at the Lincoln Theatre in Baltimore. She later recalled that she earned the rich sum of ten dollars a week, but her managers cheated her out of the tips her admirers threw on the stage.

After her start in Baltimore, Waters toured on the black vaudeville circuit. As she described it later, "I used to work from nine until unconscious." Despite her early success, she fell on hard times and joined a carnival, traveling in freight cars along the carnival circuit and eventually reaching Chicago. Waters enjoyed her time with the carnival and recalled, "the roustabouts and the concessionaires were the kind of people I'd grown up with, rough, tough, full of larceny towards strangers, but sentimental and loyal to their friends and co-workers." She did not last long with them, though, and soon headed south to Atlanta, where she worked in the same club with Bessie Smith. Smith demanded that Waters not compete in singing blues opposite her. Waters conceded and sang ballads and popular songs. Around 1919, Waters moved to Harlem and there became a celebrity performer in the Harlem Renaissance of the 1920s.

Waters obtained her first Harlem job at Edmond's Cellar, a club with a black patronage. She specialized in popular ballads and became an actress in a blackface comedy, Hello 1919. The jazz historian Rosetta Reitz pointed out that by the time Waters returned to Harlem in 1921, women blues singers were among the most powerful entertainers in the country. In 1921, Waters became the fifth black woman to make a record, on the tiny Cardinal Records label. She later joined Black Swan Records, where Fletcher Henderson was her accompanist. Waters later commented that Henderson tended to perform in a more classical style than she preferred, often lacking "the damn-it-to-hell bass."

She recorded with Black Swan from 1921 through 1923. In early 1924, Paramount bought the Black Swan label, and she stayed with Paramount through that year. She first recorded for Columbia Records in 1925, achieving a hit with "Dinah," which was voted a Grammy Hall of Fame Award in 1998. Soon after, she started working with Pearl Wright, and together they toured in the South. In 1924, Waters played at the Plantation Club on Broadway. She also toured with the Black Swan Dance Masters. With Earl Dancer, she joined what was called the "white time" Keith Vaudeville Circuit, a traditional white-audience based vaudeville circuit performing for white audiences and combined with screenings of silent movies. They received rave reviews in Chicago and earned the unheard of salary of US $1,250 in 1928. In 1929, Waters and Pearl Wright arranged the unreleased Harry Akst song "Am I Blue?," which then appeared in the movie On with the Show and became a hit and her signature song.

Although she was considered a blues singer during the pre-1925 period, Waters belonged to the vaudeville style of Mamie Smith, Viola McCoy, and Lucille Hegamin. While with Columbia, she introduced many popular standards, including "Dinah," "Heebie Jeebies," "Sweet Georgia Brown," "Someday, Sweetheart," "Am I Blue?" and "(What Did I Do to Be So) Black and Blue" on the popular series, while she continued to sing blues ("West End Blues," "Organ Grinder Blues," etc.) on Columbia's 14000 race series. During the 1920s, Waters performed and was recorded with the ensembles of Will Marion Cook and Lovie Austin. As her career continued, she evolved toward being a blues and Broadway singer, performing with artists such as Duke Ellington. She remained with Columbia through 1931. She signed with Brunswick Records in 1932 and remained until 1933, when she went back to Columbia. She signed with Decca Records in late 1934 for only two sessions, as well as a single session in early 1938. She recorded for the specialty label Liberty Music Shop Records in 1935 and again in 1940. In 1938 and 1939, she recorded for Bluebird.

In 1933, Waters appeared a satirical all-black film, Rufus Jones for President, which featured the child performer Sammy Davis Jr. as Rufus Jones. She went on to star at the Cotton Club, where, according to her autobiography, she "sang 'Stormy Weather' from the depths of the private hell in which I was being crushed and suffocated." She had a featured role in the wildly successful Irving Berlin Broadway musical revue As Thousands Cheer in 1933, in which she was the first black woman in an otherwise white show. She had three gigs at this point; in addition to the show, she starred in a national radio program and continued to work in nightclubs. She was the highest-paid performer on Broadway at that time. MGM hired Lena Horne as the ingenue in the all-black musical Cabin in the Sky, and Waters starred as Petunia in 1942, reprising her stage role of 1940. The film, directed by Vincente Minnelli, was a success.

She began to work with Fletcher Henderson again in the late 1940s. She was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress for the film Pinky (1949), under the direction of Elia Kazan, after the original director, John Ford, quit over disagreements with Waters. According to producer Darryl F. Zanuck, Ford "hated that old...woman (Waters)." Ford, Kazan stated, "didn't know how to reach Ethel Waters." Kazan later referred to Waters's "truly odd combination of old-time religiosity and free-flowing hatred.". In 1950, she won the New York Drama Critics Circle Award for her performance opposite Julie Harris in the play The Member of the Wedding. Waters and Harris reprised their roles in the 1952 film version, Member of the Wedding. In 1950, Waters starred in the television series Beulah, becoming the first African-American actress to have a lead role in a television series. However, she quit after complaining that the portrayal of blacks was "degrading." She later guest-starred in 1957 and 1959 on NBC's The Ford Show, Starring Tennessee Ernie Ford. In the 1957 episode, she sang "Cabin in the Sky".

Despite these successes, her brilliant career was fading. She lost tens of thousands in jewelry and cash in a robbery, and she had difficulties with the IRS. Her health suffered, and she worked only sporadically in the following years. In 1950–51 she wrote her autobiography His Eye Is on the Sparrow with Charles Samuels, in which she wrote candidly about her life. She explained why her age had often been misstated: her friends had to sign a paper claiming Waters was four years younger than she was to get a group insurance deal; she stated that she was born in 1900. His Eye Is on the Sparrow was adapted for a stage production in which she was portrayed by Ernestine Jackson. In her second autobiography, To Me, It's Wonderful, Waters stated that she was born in 1896. Rosetta Reitz called Waters "a natural ... [Her] songs are enriching, nourishing. You will want to play them over and over again, idling in their warmth and swing. Though many of them are more than 50 years old, the music and the feeling are still there."

Waters had romantic relationships with women as well as men.

In her later years, she often toured with Billy Graham on his crusades.

Waters died on September 1, 1977, aged 80, from uterine cancer, kidney failure, and other ailments, in Chatsworth, California.

She was the great-aunt of the singer-songwriter Crystal Waters.

[knowinothing-blog]

Book Review: Noli Me Tángere

Upon hearing the title 'Noli me Tangere' I immediately remembered the literary works of Dr. Jose Rizal. It is common knowledge that Rizal used his brilliant intelligence to refute from the satirical government of Spain, it fueled my curiosity to know how this text revolutionized the Filipino thought.

In terms of social trends present in the novel, the community is categorized based on their status. Those who belong in the higher status quo are often literate people, priests, merchants or politicians. While the less fortunate, illiterate Filipinos belong to the lower status quo. Now, this practice may have rooted because the Philippines has been governed by western culture. Based on western ethics, individuals from these cultures are independent and usually tend to value their career or status. The Americans and Spaniards have influenced Philippine culture. This may explain why in our present society, an individual that has finished his education is favored rather than an individual that didn't complete his academic journey. Another instance showed in the story is that an individual literate in the English language is automatically branded by society as a person belonging in the higher strata. Even in the present, this is still a common mistake that discriminates against the people who lacked the opportunity to learn. The loss of nationalism of the many also motivates this unseen discrimination existing in the past society as well as to the present.

Now viewing this from a technological viewpoint, the story showed advancements of the Filipino community. One great example is the pluma that is used by Dr. Jose Rizal to write his literary works. The exchange of information is not as fast compared to modern times. In the book, information escalated through newspapers. Through time, the demand for the speed of information became an opportunity for capitalists that also benefited each country by boosting its economic standing.

The state of the economy in the story tells us that the Philippines is a rich country. After-all Noli me Tángere is supposed to depict the current events when it was written so this means that the purchasing power of peso is very high. Dr. Jose Rizal can finance his publishing with only three hundred pesos. However, in the story, there are a great number of people enduring poverty. One reason why this happened is because of the extreme taxes, unnecessary church contributions mandated and also national restrictions that might have hindered a Filipino to flourish financially. This tells us that the government established by the Spaniards is corrupt, cruel and unjust. In comparison, every Filipino as of today has the opportunity to strive for financial freedom, education and also entitled to own properties.

Noli me Tángere beautifully described the places of old manila, from this we can infer that our ancestors preserved the environment. Sadly, the environment that we have today is not even comparable to what they had. The lands, seas as part of the environment has been exhausted for profit. On a brighter note, there are advocates, institutions that encourage volunteers to preserve our environment today.

The novel showed that Spain established a colonial government in the Philippines. It is divided into two structures, the national and local government. The national government is responsible to maintain peace and order, infrastructures as well as the collection of taxes. While the local council administered towns and municipalities. Comparing it to the present political structure tells us that we adopted this structure. Although we have a democratic government today, these two share a common denominator. That is, the past and the present politics is motivated by self-gratification. Relating this to ethics, the priests unjustly enrich themselves at the expense of every Filipino, which is legally, ethically wrong. Noli me Tángere showed deceitful acts, oppression to the lower strata, bribery and even corruption by the officials.  

Another case is the legal system in the story, Mr. Ibarra who has become a fugitive without due process is enough to pinpoint the state of the legal system in Dr. Rizal's time. It's very easy to blame, to oppress the smaller person because they don't almost usually have the upper hand in these situations. Often, its the one that has come bearing money that will walk free.  Noli Me Tangere also showed that our fellow countrymen took advantage of the weak and deprived. Although some can be considered ethically good, their small number is overpowered by those people who don't know integrity.  This has become a norm in our society, not because of these power-hungry people, but because most of us lead them to be where they are right now. If this is the ethics, legal processes and politics depicted in Rizal's time then the present state of the Philippines tells us that our countrymen have not learned anything from history.

The novel Noli Me Tangere is filled with characters with colorful personalities. Father Damaso, Maria Clara, Dona Consolacion, Crispin, Elias, Father Salvi, Crisostomo Ibarra, and Captain Tiago are some of the characters portrayed in the novel. But among these characters, Crisostomo Ibarra stood out the most. In my life, I can see my father as Crisostomo Ibarra. Our family-like anyone else's experienced plenty of sufferings, unjust treatments, and oppression to name a few. My father like Ibarra is rational, cautious and a good person. In the novel, we know that Ibarra tried to change the systems to fully reform the government, instead of rebellion. Although our family is not like the government, I can say that my father did the same thing. He fixed the troublesome issues and later reconfigured our family.  

The major conflict of the novel is the war of Ibarra against society, its virtues, and prejudices present at those times. Ignorance of the Filipino is another major conflict in the text. Conflicts in personal relationships are also evident in the case of Ibarra and Father Damaso. Whenever I face these kinds of situations I do my best in resolving it silently. I follow platonic ethics, that is happiness lies in reason. That's why I take a step back and re-assess the situation. Instead of letting emotion cloud my judgment, I always choose to be rational so that I can think of a solution that is just and reasonable.

[blog-in-a-corner]

TSOTBL - Sticks and Stones

Six people trapped in one place together isn’t exactly a pleasant predicament, but still, it’s not as bad as being trapped somewhere by yourself.

An inescapable situation often brings even the most distant strangers together, bonding over only two things: escaping and surviving. But as it can bring people together…..

It can also tear the strongest bonds apart.

______________________________________________________________________________

Kim was walking around the lobby, she had passed by the kitchen and noticed that Garroth was sitting at the kitchen table, eating some eggs.

“Hey Garroth!” Kim greeted, walking into the kitchen. “Oh hey Kim, what’s up?” Garroth responded gleefully. “Not much, just got up and happened to pass by….by the way, how’s your arm been?” Kim questioned, looking at the makeshift sling she made on his arm. “It’s been good, still hurts a bit, but it’s getting better.” Garroth answered, adjusting his sling slightly. “That’s good. I’m glad the sling is actually working, I’m not exactly in the sling-making business so…” Kim muttered, twiddling her fingers. “With how well my arm has been healing, maybe you should be!” Garroth chuckled, gesturing to his arm sling. “Ah yes, making arm slings, I’ll be rich by sun-down. A true, life enriching passion to pursue.” Kim joked, leaning on the counter. “Haha!” Garroth laughed.

Both Garroth and Kim laughed at the stupid joke together, until-

“What the hell are you two even bothering to make noise about now?” Zane commented in an annoyed manner, standing by the door. “Hmph…” Kim uttered, glaring at Zane. “Little brother! Me and Kim were just talking, do you wanna sit with us?” Garroth asked, patting the chair next to him. “No.” Zane replied, walking to the table, and sitting further away from the both of them, placing his phone on the table. It appeared he had been playing some sort of game on it.

Kim continued to glare at Zane.

“That’s fine, do you want something for lunch?” Garroth questioned Zane, moving a couple seats closer to him. “You’re probably going to burn it.” Zane answered, rolling his eyes. “No I won’t, you’ll see Zane.” Garroth insisted cheerfully, getting up and going to the fridge and grabbing a carton of eggs out, setting up the kitchen to make breakfast. “Whatever.” Zane sighed in annoyance. He noticed Kim was looking at him. “Hm?” Zane uttered, staring back at her. She didn’t move even a little bit from where she was sitting.“What is it?” Zane snapped at Kim.

Kim stood silent.

“Hello…?” Zane muttered, trying to look away from Kim, creeped out by her odd behaviour. “....Hey Garroth….” Kim said, snapping her head in Garroth’s direction. “......!?” Zane was somewhat confused. Now she wants to talk? “Yeah Kim?” Garroth acknowledged, slightly turning his head in her direction, keeping his attention on the eggs. “What’s….your family like?….” Kim mumbled, turning her gaze back at Zane. “Oh they’re great! We all get along really well. I would never ask for a different one, not ever.” Garroth replied, sliding the eggs on to two plates. “Tch, yeah sure, if that’s how you want to put it….” Zane muttered, glaring back at Kim. “Here is your lunch little brother!” Garroth stated, placing a plate of eggs and a fork in front of Zane.

Zane broke his gaze from Kim to the plate in front of him. A normal plate of eggs, and they weren’t burnt.

“I made some for you too Kim!” Garroth added, gently placing down a plate of eggs and a fork in front of her. “Aw thanks Garroth.” Kim smiled, grabbing the fork from beside the plate. “So,” Garroth walked back to Zane. “How is it?” “Hm, I’ve had better.” Zane murmured, staring back at Kim, who glared back, before going back to eating her eggs. “Hey guys!” Aphmau announced loudly, walking into the room. “Agh!” Kim choked, startled by Aphmau’s entrance. “Hey Aph.” Zane greeted, pushing his plate away. “What’re you guys up to?” Aphmau inquiried, walking towards the table. “Nothing, just eating...Garroth’s excuse of a meal I guess.” Zane sneered. “It IS a meal, and a good one at that!” Kim asserted, looking at Aphmau. “Oh right…” Aphmau mumbled, remembering her and Kim’s conversation from last night. “Hey Zane, can you come with me to my room? I wanted to ask you about something but it’s a bit personal.” “Sure.” Zane agreed, getting off his chair and following Aphmau out of the kitchen.

As Aphmau and Zane walked away, Kim and Garroth were left in the kitchen

“Aw Zane forgot his lunch. Oh well, there always dinner.” Garroth sighed, taking the plate and dumping the uneaten eggs in the trash. “About Zane, why do you….why do you take that from him?” Kim asked, looking down at her plate. “What do you mean?” Garroth questioned, putting Zane’s plate in the sink. “Well he’s just so….he’s just really mean to you? All of the time…” Kim elaborated, looking to Garroth. “That’s just how he is.” Garroth stated, grabbing Kim’s plate. “Yeah but he treats Aphmau better, and she’s not even related to you guys.” Kim argued. “But me and my family knew Aphmau and her mom since we were all kids.” Garroth explained, washing the leftover dishes. “And how long exactly have Zane and Aphmau actually been friends?” Kim inquired. “....About two years.” Garroth answered, drying his hands with a rag. “Look it’s just different okay? We’re brothers and Aphmau is his friend! It’s a huge difference.” “Okay, if you say so…” Kim muttered, looking back to where Zane had been sitting. “Besides, I love my little brother. He’s rough around the edges and can be a bit mean sometimes, but he means well. He’s made some mistakes in the past, but everyone makes mistakes. I’m not saying you have to tolerate him, but he’s my lil’ brother y’know? He means a lot to me.” “Aw that’s sweet.” Kim looked to where Zane was previously sitting and noticed something. “Oh hey, Zane forgot his phone.” Kim pointed out. “Ah, I’ll bring it back to him once I’m done in the kitchen.” Garroth said, grabbing the phone and putting it in his pocket.

______________________________________________________________________________

Aphmau and Zane walked up the stairs, and went into Aphmau’s room.

“So, what is it you wanted to tell me Aph?” Zane asked. “Erm, you know those things, that you don’t want to bring up because it’s kind of a topic you try to stay out of to avoid conflict with people, and it’s kind of awkward but at one point unavoidable? Like you try and try but at one point you have to say something even though you really don’t want to because the topic is so personal and-” “Stop beating around the bush what is it?!” Zane snapped in annoyance, interrupting Aphmau. “Welll….it’s….come to my attention that uh, you can be a little-just a little bit!...that you can be a tad bit..unnecessarily cruel to Garroth at times…” Aphmau explained nervously. “....So that’s it huh?” Zane fumed, glaring at Aphmau. “M-Maybe cruel isn’t the word! But could you maybe just..tone it down a bit..?” Aphmau stuttered. “Tch, you think you can fucking go around and ”stop” shit like this like some kind of innocent saint?” Zane barked. “What? That’s not what I meant at all! I just-” “Then what the fuck did you mean huh?” “I meant that you shouldn’t treat Garroth the way you do! I know it’s not my business but you shouldn’t do that!” “Of course you would think that, that’s not a surprise...” “Excuse me?” “Sure, sure. All is well in the Ro’meave family, nothing to see here folks! Nothing to see….except the biggest fucking clusterfuck of a family you’ll ever get to know! Except you won’t, because it’s all hush hush in this family, can’t let the general public know this model family is the poster child of dysfunctional families everywhere!” “Zane-” “If I act “cruel” to Garroth it’s because that stupid fuck deserves it. He doesn’t give shit about me, he’s more concerned that I should do what he wants me to do than he is about anything else. All that fucking imbecile cares about is making thing as ~perfect~ as he wants them to be, like father like son I guess. His dumb ass has been constantly paraded around his entire life about how perfect and good he is, his perfect looks, his perfect grades, his perfect family and how oh~ only the best for the golden child! We should wait on him hand and foot because it’s ~Garroth~, and all the while everyone else got to sit in the corner with nothing. That selfish prick I have the misfortune being blood related to never made a damn effort to share the excess he had. I don’t give a shit if I act cruel towards him, I’d rather rot than give that asshole more of what he doesn’t deserve.

Things were silent for a small moment between the two.

“Zane….I’m…I’m sorry, I...I shouldn’t have brought it up, I just…..sorry…” Aphmau apologized, looking at the floor. “It’s….fine. It would have come up at one point anyway. Whether it was because me, you, or someone else.” Zane sighed, looking at Aphmau. “Listen I….I shouldn't have yelled at you like that, I was just really frustrated and...the point is I’m sorry. It’s not like you even knew about any of that to begin with.” “It’s okay…” “H-Hey, why don’t we go back downstairs in a few minutes and I’ll make us a real lunch?” Zane offered. “Sure, that sounds great!” Aphmau said happily, falling to the bed. “Let’s just take a moment to relax a bit first, yeah?” “Sure…”

// hewwo everybody thanks for reading I’m going to astrally project myself into a apple now //

[yasbxxgie]

This 8-Year-Old Chess Champion Will Make You Smile

In a homeless shelter in Manhattan, an 8-year-old boy is walking to his room, carrying an awkward load in his arms, unfazed by screams from a troubled resident. The boy is a Nigerian refugee with an uncertain future, but he is beaming.

He can’t stop grinning because the awkward load is a huge trophy, almost as big as he is. This homeless third grader has just won his category at the New York State chess championship.

Much of the news of the last week has focused on wealthy families buying access to great universities, either illegally through bribes or legally through donations. There is no question that America is a tilted playing field that gives wealthy children huge advantages.

So we should all grin along with Tanitoluwa Adewumi, the newly crowned chess champion for kindergarten through third grade. He went undefeated at the state tournament last weekend, outwitting children from elite private schools with private chess tutors.

What’s even more extraordinary is that Tani, as he is known, learned chess only a bit more than a year ago. His play has skyrocketed month by month, and he now has seven trophies by his bed in the homeless shelter.

“I want to be the youngest grandmaster,” he told me.

Tani’s family fled northern Nigeria in 2017, fearing attacks by Boko Haram terrorists on Christians such as themselves. “I don’t want to lose any loved ones,” his father, Kayode Adewumi, told me.

So Tani, his parents and his older brother arrived in New York City a bit more than a year ago, and a pastor helped steer them to a homeless shelter. Tani began attending the local elementary school, P.S. 116, which has a part-time chess teacher who taught Tani’s class how to play.

Tani enjoyed the game and prodded his mom, Oluwatoyin Adewumi, to ask if he could join the chess club.

“He is interested in the chess program, which he will like to be participating in,” Mrs. Adewumi, who is working hard to master American English, emailed the club. She explained that she could not pay the fees for the program because the family was living in a shelter.

Russell Makofsky, who oversees the P.S. 116 chess program, waived the fees, and a year ago the boy took part in his first tournament with the lowest rating of any participant, 105.

His rating is now 1587 and rising fast. (By comparison, the world’s best player, Magnus Carlsen, stands at 2845.)

Tani has an aggressive style of play, and in the state tournament the coaches, watching from the sidelines, were shocked when he sacrificed a bishop for a lowly pawn. Alarmed, they fed the move into a computer and it agreed with Tani, recognizing that the gambit would improve his position several moves later.

“It’s an inspiring example of how life’s challenges do not define a person,” said Jane Hsu, the principal of P.S. 116, which held a pep rally to celebrate Tani’s victory. Hsu noted that while Tani lacks a home, he has enormously supportive parents dedicated to seeing him succeed.

Tani’s mom can’t play chess but takes him every Saturday to a three-hour free practice session in Harlem, and she attends his tournaments. His dad lets Tani use his laptop each evening to practice. And although religion is extremely important to the family, the parents let Tani miss church when necessary to attend a tournament.

“Tani is rich beyond measure,” in the strength, love and support of his family, Makofsky told me.

Tani’s dad has two jobs: He rents a car that he uses to drive for Uber, and he has also become a licensed real estate salesman. Tani’s mom has passed a course to become a home health aide. Meeting them, it’s easy to see where Tani’s scrappy diligence came from.

It is sometimes tough for Tani. His parents say that he once came home from school crying after classmates teased him for being homeless. And at an immigration hearing last fall, he burst into tears when he misunderstood the judge to say that the family would be deported.

“I feel American,” he explained. In fact, the family’s asylum request is dragging on, with the next hearing scheduled for August.

Tani tries to put that out of his mind. He lies on the floor of the shelter and practices chess for hours each evening — now preparing for the elementary national championship in May.

“He is so driven,” said his school chess teacher, Shawn Martinez. “He does 10 times more chess puzzles than the average kid. He just wants to be better.”

Makofsky shook his head wonderingly. “One year to get to this level, to climb a mountain and be the best of the best, without family resources,” he said. “I’ve never seen it.”

Tani is a reminder that refugees enrich this nation — and that talent is universal, even if opportunity is not. Back in Nigeria, his parents say, his brilliance at chess would never have had an outlet.

“The U.S. is a dream country,” his dad told me. “Thank God I live in the greatest city in the world, which is New York, New York.”

Update: Many readers have asked if they can help Tani and his family. There is a GoFundMe account set up for the family: https://www.gofundme.com/just-tani

Photographs:

Tanitoluwa Adewumi, who lives with his family in a shelter in New York City, went from chess novice to chess champion in little over a year

Tani, as he's known, carrying his chess trophy home from school, accompanied by his mother and brother

[fartonexit]

A letter for my mother to find.

I'm not spending time writing this out like I thought I would. I'm not walking you through every little step, checking paths are clear to be read, because they aren't, and I'm not taking every precaution to hide myself anymore because honestly if I keep doing that I really am going to kill myself.

I came out as trans last year after many many years of it burning and smoldering for any form of attention. I ignored it, in fact I even have a place in my brain that I visualized physically throwing myself into to keep myself quiet. Anything, everything to just not be found out, not be seen or heard, everyone go away I'm going to go hate myself.

You want to point to developmental cycles. Ok. Why do you think I stopped eating in a group at dinner? Did you know I would talk to myself in the barn at night to keep all the anxiety down and just blow off steam for an hour and a half straight? And you never questioned why it looked like I has half paying attention in some areas and trying hard in others....

In middle school I was already thinking about this. In fact, it has been on my mind for so long, I'm not sure it's never not been there. There was no cause, no big explosion of coom and suddenly I wanted to be a sex object or something. Double up, middle school was hell and I can't remember any of it except doing math at home and breaking my DS. That's basically all I remember of those 3 years. 'cept one thing.

I got asked by a chick in 6th grade to go out with her, well maybe 7th actually, and I froze and turned them down. Not because of the ASD shit, mind you, but because I'd been staring at Tyler Roth's bulge for 2 hours squirming in my chair. If a girl asks me out and I'm doing that right beforehand, and in fact get up to use the bathroom to clean up, you think I'm gunna say yes to the girl?

That's fucking stupid. No.

At least at the time to me it was.

Now I am more open about myself. I care more for personality than body, so sex doesn't matter unless it's a group effort (haha). I am definitely pansexual, there's no doubts there. Poly even, but I'm not sharing any of that with you. That's all the info you get.

If you can't tell from the title, I'm kinda trans kinda not. Non-Binary is the correct term, and I'm a little jazzed that I'm over my bullshit about it. I never said anything or made it obvious because of bad reactions from you and dad about me being gay, or other gay ppl, so like honestly why would I ever have said anything when I don't trust you?

This is also the origin of my trust issues.

In college, actually no, in high school I heard the term for the first time, in college, learning more and more about what trans ppl go through and nb people go thru, I locked myself in my room for 2 weeks and only came out for dinner. I almost committed suicide off of AB after that period because I couldn't handle it and it hadn't matched anything that I had known before. It's something I've actually wanted to talk to you about for years, and when I try to bring it up you scream at me and run away like I've ruined your whole life in some 80's teenager movie. You won't even hear my side of it.

There's obviously a lot for us to talk about, and I'll let you come up with your own questions. I'll make a lil' faq

1: Are you male or female?

A:. I'm always going to acknowledge my birth. I'm never going to not acknowledge what I went thru, the good or the bad, or that I ever had a penis.

Male in origin, but in-between. Genderfluid is the correct term. Maybe intersex as well, as that's how I see myself. I notice when I eat more estrogen enriching foods, my mood balances out. I've been eating more E rich foods lately (seeds, dry fruit, oat bran in the morning) and I've honestly never felt more.... Normal.

2: If it's fluid, what the hell do I call you?

A: Well it's not like you'll make me explode at you if you straight up call me he and I'm in a dress, more I'll be watching the ppl around you staring at you calling me a he.

My pronouns are hi / shi / him / hir / they / them, and honestly my rule is call what you see. The I is there for... Well, intersex. Male or female presenting.

So again, call what you see. I do get mad though, especially if I worked really hard to make a banger of an outfit. Honestly, so glad you don't know my style either... If I'm obviously trying, respect that. I don't always though, only on special occasions.

3: What about your name then? It's effeminate.

A: I'm effeminate, what's your point. Hell if you want a bullshit term to look into look up genderfaun. Within genderfluidity there can be limits, which ppl of course have denoted how people will denote it. Genderfaun basically means cboy. A male embodied person never quite unclasping on full effeminacy.

4: How have I never heard of this?

A: Same reason women's issues are more vocalized to men's issues. Same reason why I'm expected to be the one running the construction site and my partner is supposed to be my loving little wife. Cboy's, intersex ppl in general rly, don't really have a need to be found out. And quite rare, actually. Honestly, Nonbinary is what can go on a paper and what is legally applicable, so that's the 'umbrella' term, if you need one.

5: So what makes you a cboy then?

A: years of undeserved anguish, hating my body, not wanting breasts, wanting to give birth, my dick feeling out of place or straight up like a tumor on my life, relationships being hard to start and even harder to keep literally because of sex, crying after being made the top for sex, having to top at all, expectations beset by other's that I don't get a voice in, not getting a voice in general and not being in any spot of authority or passed by the same or opposite sex in both education and normal social life, oh and also every time I see a picture of a cboy I'm happy, not horny.

6: Why that term? Rather harsh

A: I agree. If there was a better term that was as equally descriptive I'd go for it. I don't think intersex male is quite applicable tho, nor does genderfluid work on a job app., Tho neither does cb. It started as a term in porn but people have taken it as their own, me included.

Again describe it in one word that isn't confusing (transfeminine for example, genderfaun for another) and get back to me when you figure it out.

7: Possibility A - you're crazy

A: That'd be cool if I was crazy actually, then I'd actually fucking feel normal. Like I had a normal problem. Like I was being treated like I should be in society. Sadly enough I've talked to multiple shrinks, other trans and nb people, other cboys, and pretty much everyone agrees my living situation was really fucked up, as we're the expectations beset upon me. Not always, and I'm not just spraying buckshot over my whole life, but there's some stuff we REALLY need to talk about.

I've actually made it my life mission for the last 10 plus years to find someone like me being interviewed. I have had the hardest time too because I beat myself up about it so often, unless I tripped over a podcast episode (like I actually did) I'd never find anything and just think I was schizophrenic or something. Hell for a while you had convinced me I was because of stuff you were doing and talking about, and like bloody usual, not letting go of or shutting up about for months.

Literally half the reason I moved in to where I am was to checksum myself. I am definitely not schizophrenic and absolutely have a panic and anxiety disorder.

Possibility B - ok I'll bite, who else is there?

A: here's the podcast that made me feel safe. We're not 100% similar, but a lot of what he is saying I get. And while he lives in cali, stuff your biases. He moved here from japan when he was 12 or something.

https://www.furwhatitsworth.com/?episode=s9-episode-3-nb-nb-nb

This is not the only podcast I've listened to, but it's the best perspective I've heard. And I can say for solid, to this day, I get exactly everything he is talking about. Every single thing.

8: Ok, so what about your name (should you be on board)

A: Thats hard for me. I know I came with Ari and then tried Faun, but Faun is more a nickname for me from somebody and I liked the sound. I still like the name a lot too. But my name is Aremis, it's been Aremis, I'm going to move on and stop thinking about that one so hard.

9: Why not keep your old name? I'm offended you don't have my father's name anymore.

A: ok good for you for inscribing your bullshit onto someone before they can even he a say, as usual.

My dead name literally hurts. I've tried to explain to you, you ignored me.

That's all you get. Deal with it.

10: I'm not sure I'm ok with this.

A: Neither am I but I'd be dead right now from jumping under a semi in traffic a few months back if I hadn't. This isn't a mistake, or anything you did to me. It's just how I am. Now I know why you want the new DSM so bad.

By the way, dsm backs me up. So if god is gunna have to say something because of your convictions, I'll walk.

Peace. I'm done pooping now, time to get off the toilet.