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dornish-queen · 4 years

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Pedro Pascal on Fame and ‘The Mandalorian’: ‘Can We Cut the S— and Talk About the Child?’

By Adam B. Vary

Photographs by Beau Grealy

At some point during this particular visit, Pascal needed to go to the bathroom, and his parents let him go by himself. “I didn’t really know how to read yet,” Pascal says with the same Cheshire grin that dazzled “Game of Thrones” fans during his run as the wily (and doomed) Oberyn Martel. “I did not find my way back to ‘Superman.'”

Instead, Pascal wandered into a different theater (he thinks it was showing the 1979 domestic drama “Kramer vs. Kramer,” but, again, he was 4). In his shock and bewilderment at being lost, he curled up into an open seat and fell asleep. When he woke up, the movie was over, the theater was empty, and his parents were standing over him. To his surprise, they seemed rather calm, but another detail sticks out even more.

“I know that they finished their movie,” he says, bending over in laughter. “My sister was trying to get a rise out of me by telling me, ‘This happened and that happened and then Superman did this and then, you know, the earthquake and spinning around the planet.'” In the face of such relentless sibling mockery, Pascal did the only logical thing: “I said, ‘All that happened in my movie too.'”

He had no way of knowing it at the time, of course, but some 40 years later, Pascal would in fact get the chance to star in a movie alongside a DC Comics superhero — not to mention battle Stormtroopers and, er, face off against the most formidable warrior in Westeros. After his breakout on “Game of Thrones,” he became an instant get-me-that-guy sensation, mostly as headstrong, taciturn men of action — from chasing drug traffickers in Colombia for three seasons on Netflix’s “Narcos” to squaring off against Denzel Washington in “The Equalizer 2.”

This year, though, Pascal finds himself poised for the kind of marquee career he’s spent a lifetime dreaming about. On Oct. 30, he’ll return for Season 2 as the title star of “The Mandalorian,” Lucasfilm’s light-speed hit “Star Wars” series for Disney Plus that earned 15 Emmy nominations, including best drama, in its first season. And then on Dec. 25 — COVID-19 depending — he’ll play the slippery comic book villain Maxwell Lord opposite Gal Gadot, Chris Pine and Kristen Wiig in “Wonder Woman 1984.”

The roles are at once wildly divergent and the best showcase yet for Pascal’s elastic talents. In “The Mandalorian,” he must hide his face — and, in some episodes, his whole body — in a performance that pushes minimalism and restraint to an almost ascetic ideal. In “Wonder Woman 1984,” by stark contrast, he is delivering the kind of big, broad bad-guy character that populated the 1980s popcorn spectaculars of his youth.

“I continually am so surprised when everybody pegs him as such a serious guy,” says “Wonder Woman 1984” director Patty Jenkins. “I have to say, Pedro is one of the most appealing people I have known. He instantly becomes someone that everybody invites over and you want to have around and you want to talk to.”

Talk with Pascal for just five minutes — even when he’s stuck in his car because he ran out of time running errands before his flight to make it to the set of a Nicolas Cage movie in Budapest — and you get an immediate sense of what Jenkins is talking about. Before our interview really starts, Pascal points out, via Zoom, that my dog is licking his nether regions in the background. “Don’t stop him!” he says with an almost naughty reproach. “Let him live his life!”

Over our three such conversations, it’s also clear that Pascal’s great good humor and charm have been at once ballast for a number of striking hardships, and a bulwark that makes his hard-won success a challenge for him to fully accept.

Before Pascal knew anything about “The Mandalorian,” its showrunner and executive producer Jon Favreau knew he wanted Pascal to star in it.

“He feels very much like a classic movie star in his charm and his delivery,” says Favreau. “And he’s somebody who takes his craft very seriously.” Favreau felt Pascal had the presence and skill essential to deliver a character — named Din Djarin, but mostly called Mando — who spends virtually every second of his time on screen wearing a helmet, part of the sacrosanct creed of the Mandalorian order.

Convincing any actor to hide their face for the run of a series can be as precarious as escaping a Sarlacc pit. To win Pascal over in their initial meeting, Favreau brought him behind the “Mandalorian” curtain, into a conference room papered with storyboards covering the arc of the first season. “When he walked in, it must have felt a little surreal,” Favreau says. “You know, most of your experiences as an actor, people are kicking the tires to see if it’s a good fit. But in this case, everything was locked and loaded.”

Needless to say, it worked. “I hope this doesn’t sound like me fashioning myself like I’m, you know, so smart, but I agreed to do this [show] because the impression I had when I had my first meeting was that this is the next big s—,” Pascal says with a laugh.

Favreau’s determination to cast Pascal, however, put the actor in a tricky situation: Pascal’s own commitments to make “Wonder Woman 1984” in London and to perform in a Broadway run of “King Lear” with Glenda Jackson barreled right into the production schedule for “The Mandalorian.” Some scenes on the show, and in at least one case a full episode, would need to lean on the anonymity of the title character more than anyone had quite planned, with two stunt performers — Brendan Wayne and Lateef Crowder — playing Mando on set and Pascal dubbing in the dialogue months later.

Pascal was already being asked to smother one of his best tools as an actor, extraordinarily uncommon for anyone shouldering the newest iteration of a global live-action franchise. (Imagine Robert Downey Jr. only playing Iron Man while wearing a mask — you can’t!) Now he had to hand over control of Mando’s body to other performers too. Some actors would have walked away. Pascal didn’t.

“If there were more than just a couple of pages of a one-on-one scene, I did feel uneasy about not, in some instances, being able to totally author that,” he says. “But it was so easy in such a sort of practical and unexciting way for it to be up to them. When you’re dealing with a franchise as large as this, you are such a passenger to however they’re going to carve it out. It’s just so specific. It’s ‘Star Wars.'” (For Season 2, Pascal says he was on the set far more, though he still sat out many of Mando’s stunts.)

“The Mandalorian” was indeed the next big s—, helping to catapult the launch of Disney Plus to 26.5 million subscribers in its first six weeks. With the “Star Wars” movies frozen in carbonite until 2023 (at least), I noted offhand that he’s now effectively the face of one of the biggest pop-culture franchises in the world. Pascal could barely suppress rolling his eyes.

“I mean, come on, there isn’t a face!” he says with a laugh that feels maybe a little forced. “If you want to say, ‘You’re the silhouette’ — which is also a team effort — then, yeah.” He pauses. “Can we just cut the s— and talk about the Child?”

Yes, of course, the Child — or, as the rest of the galaxy calls it, Baby Yoda. Pascal first saw the incandescently cute creature during his download of “Mandalorian” storyboards in that initial meeting with Favreau. “Literally, my eyes following left to right, up and down, and, boom, Baby Yoda close to the end of the first episode,” he says. “That was when I was like, ‘Oh, yep, that’s a winner!'”

Baby Yoda is undeniably the breakout star of “The Mandalorian,” inspiring infinite memes and apocryphal basketball game sightings. But the show wouldn’t work if audiences weren’t invested in Mando’s evolving emotional connection to the wee scene stealer, something Favreau says Pascal understood from the jump. “He’s tracking the arc of that relationship,” says the showrunner. “His insight has made us rethink moments over the course of the show.” (As with all things “Star Wars,” questions about specifics are deflected in deference to the all-powerful Galactic Order of Spoilers.)

Even if Pascal couldn’t always be inside Mando’s body, he never left the character’s head, always aware of how this orphaned bounty hunter who caroms from planet to planet would look askance at anything that felt too good (or too adorable) to be true.

“The transience is something that I’m incredibly familiar with, you know?” Pascal says. “Understanding the opportunity for complexity under all of the armor was not hard for me.”

When Pascal was 4 months old, his parents had to leave him and his sister with their aunt, so they could go into hiding to avoid capture during Pinochet’s crackdown against his opposition. After six months, they finally managed to climb the walls of the Venezuelan embassy during a shift change and claim asylum; from there, the family relocated, first to Denmark, then to San Antonio, where Pascal’s father got a job as a physician.

Pascal was too young to remember any of this, and for a healthy stretch of his childhood, his complicated Chilean heritage sat in parallel to his life in the U.S. — separate tracks, equally important, never quite intersecting. By the time Pascal was 8, his family was able to take regular trips back to Chile to visit with his 34 first cousins. But he doesn’t remember really talking about any of his time there all that much with his American friends.

“I remember at one point not even realizing that my parents had accents until a friend was like, ‘Why does your mom talk like that?'” Pascal says. “And I remember thinking, like what?”

Besides, he loved his life in San Antonio. His father took him and his sister to Spurs basketball games during the week if their homework was done. He hoodwinked his mother into letting him see “Poltergeist” at the local multiplex. He watched just about anything on cable; the HBO special of Whoopi Goldberg’s one-woman Broadway show knocked him flat. He remembers seeing Henry Thomas in “E.T.” and Christian Bale in “Empire of the Sun” and wishing ardently, urgently, I want to live those stories too.

Then his father got a job in Orange County, Calif. After Pascal finished the fifth grade, they moved there. It was a shock. “There were two really, really rough years,” he says. “A lot of bullying.”

His mother found him a nascent performing arts high school in the area, and Pascal burrowed even further into his obsessions, devouring any play or movie he could get his hands on. His senior year, a friend of his mother’s gave Pascal her ticket to a long two-part play running in downtown Los Angeles that her bad back couldn’t withstand. He got out of school early to drive there by himself. It was the pre-Broadway run of “Angels in America.”

“And it changed me,” he says with almost religious awe. “It changed me.”

After studying acting at NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts, Pascal booked a succession of solid gigs, like MTV’s “Undressed” and “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.” But the sudden death of his mother — who’d only just been permitted to move back to Chile a few years earlier — took the wind right from Pascal’s sails. He lost his agent, and his career stalled almost completely.

As a tribute to her, he decided to change his professional last name from Balmaceda, his father’s, to Pascal, his mother’s. “And also, because Americans had such a hard time pronouncing Balmaceda,” he says. “It was exhausting.”

Pascal even tried swapping out Pedro for Alexander (an homage to Ingmar Bergman’s “Fanny and Alexander,” one of the formative films of his youth). “I was willing to do absolutely anything to work more,” he says. “And that meant if people felt confused by who they were looking at in the casting room because his first name was Pedro, then I’ll change that. It didn’t work.”

It was a desperately lean time for Pascal. He booked an occasional “Law & Order” episode, but mostly he was pounding the pavement along with his other New York theater friends — like Oscar Isaac, who met Pascal doing an Off Broadway play. They became fast, lifelong friends, bonding over their shared passions and frustrations as actors.

“It’s gotten better, but at that point, it was so easy to be pigeonholed in very specific roles because we’re Latinos,” says Isaac. “It’s like, how many gang member roles am I going to be sent?” As with so many actors, the dream Pascal and Isaac shared to live the stories of their childhoods had been stripped down to its most basic utility. “The dream was to be able to pay rent,” says Isaac. “There wasn’t a strategy. We were just struggling. It was talking about how to do this thing that we both love but seems kind of insurmountable.”

As with so few actors, that dream was finally rekindled through sheer nerve and the luck of who you know, when another lifelong friend, actor Sarah Paulson, agreed to pass along Pascal’s audition for Oberyn Martell to her best friend Amanda Peet, who is married to “Game of Thrones” co-showrunner David Benioff.

“First of all, it was an iPhone selfie audition, which was unusual,” Benioff remembers over email. “And this wasn’t one of the new-fangled iPhones with the fancy cameras. It looked like s—; it was shot vertical; the whole thing was very amateurish. Except for the performance, which was intense and believable and just right.”

Before Pascal knew it, he found himself in Belfast, sitting inside the Great Hall of the Red Keep as one of the judges at Tyrion Lannister’s trial for the murder of King Joffrey. “I was between Charles Dance and Lena Headey, with a view of the entire f—ing set,” Pascal says, his eyes wide and astonished still at the memory. “I couldn’t believe I didn’t have an uncomfortable costume on. You know, I got to sit — and with this view.” He sighs. “It strangely aligned itself with the kind of thinking I was developing as a child that, at that point, I was convinced was not happening.”

And then it all started to happen.

In early 2018, while Pascal was in Hawaii preparing to make the Netflix thriller “Triple Frontier” — opposite his old friend Isaac — he got a call from the film’s producer Charles Roven, who told him Patty Jenkins wanted to meet with him in London to discuss a role in another film Roven was producing, “Wonder Woman 1984.”

“It was a f—ing offer,” Pascal says in an incredulous whisper. “I wasn’t really grasping that Patty wanted to talk to me about a part that I was going to play, not a part that I needed to get. I wasn’t able to totally accept that.”

Pascal had actually shot a TV pilot with Jenkins that wasn’t picked up, made right before his life-changing run on “Game of Thrones” aired. “I got to work with Patty for three days or something and then thought I’d never see her again,” he says. “I didn’t even know she remembered me from that.”

She did. “I worked with him, so I knew him,” she says. “I didn’t need him to prove anything for me. I just loved the idea of him, and I thought he would be kind of unexpected, because he doesn’t scream ‘villain.'”

In Jenkins’ vision, Max Lord — a longstanding DC Comics rogue who shares a particularly tangled history with Wonder Woman — is a slick, self-styled tycoon with a knack for manipulation and an undercurrent of genuine pathos. It was the kind of larger-than-life character Pascal had never been asked to tackle before, so he did something equally unorthodox: He transformed his script into a kind of pop-art scrapbook, filled with blown-up photocopies of Max Lord from the comic books that Pascal then manipulated through his lens on the character.

Even the few pages Pascal flashes to me over Zoom are quite revealing. One, featuring Max sporting a power suit and a smarmy grin, has several burned-out holes, including through the character’s eye. Another page features Max surrounded by text bubbles into which Pascal has written, over and over and over again in itty-bitty lettering, “You are a f—ing piece of s—.”

“I felt like I had wake myself up again in a big way,” he says. “This was just a practical way of, like, instead of going home tired and putting Netflix on, [I would] actually deal with this physical thing, doodle and think about it and run it.”

Jenkins is so bullish on Pascal’s performance that she thinks it could explode his career in the same way her 2003 film “Monster” forever changed how the industry saw Charlize Theron. “I would never cast him as just the stoic, quiet guy,” Jenkins says. “I almost think he’s unrecognizable from ‘Narcos’ to ‘Wonder Woman.’ Wouldn’t even know that was the same guy. But I think that may change.”

When people can see “Wonder Woman 1984” remains caught in the chaos the pandemic has wreaked on the industry; both Pascal and Jenkins are hopeful the Dec. 25 release date will stick, but neither is terribly sure it will. Perhaps it’s because of that uncertainty, perhaps it’s because he’s spent his life on the outside of a dream he’s now suddenly living, but Pascal does not share Jenkins’ optimism that his experience making “Wonder Woman 1984” will open doors to more opportunities like it.

“It will never happen again,” Pascal says, once more in that incredulous whisper. “It felt so special.”

After all he’s done in a few short years, why wouldn’t Pascal think more roles like this are on his horizon?

“I don’t know!” he finally says with a playful — and pointed — howl. “I’m protecting myself psychologically! It’s just all too good to be true! How dare I!”

#pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #variety magazine

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ashxketchum · 4 years

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I spent a lot of time on prompt generating websites trying to get something that pushes me to write. This one dialogue just had pokeshipping written all over it, so I went for it and lo and behold, it’s a crackfic in every sense of the word.

Please don’t have expectations from this.

Kinda PG-13 for language and suggestive themes, so I’ll put it under the cut.

Dialogue prompt: “I don’t really think before I act. It’s part of my charm.”

Pairing: Pokeshipping

It was his fault, as always. Misty racked her brain and tried to remember a time when they hadn’t ended up in a situation because of him and she came up with nothing. It was his fault that they were handcuffed together and thrown under the deck of a dingy ship that reeked of suspicion from miles away. It was all his fault, and yet next to her Ash Ketchum was peacefully snoring away, with his head resting on her shoulders as if that was the most natural thing to do after being abducted in a foreign land on their first date.

“Ash wake the fuck up or I will bite you so hard.” It was barely a whisper, and yet he instantly sat up, chocolate eyes opening wide at the sound of her voice.

“Arceus Mist, this is not the time and place to do you-know-what,” Ash turned to stare at her in surprise, and even in the darkness the redhead could make out the incredulous look on his face and once she understood the meaning behind his statement, she thought she’d let out a frustrated scream so loud, the ship would crumble under its force.

“For Mew’s sake Ash I will-“

They heard loud, banging footsteps above deck and unanimously decided to go quiet, listening intently for any sound or clues that may help them get off the ship. After a few minutes passed and there was no other sound or movement, the couple relaxed themselves dejectedly.

“Really Ash what were you thinking, buying tickets for a cruise from a total stranger?” Misty whispered heatedly, resisting the urge to nudge the raven haired boy in his ribs.

“I don’t really think. It’s part of my charm,” Ash passed her a savvy smile and when it didn’t lighten her mood as he was expecting it too, he shook his head and tried again, “look the guy said that I’ll never be able to get romantic cruise tickets at such a throwaway price in this region so I kind of just bought them at a whim.”

“And which region are we in Master Ketchum?” The pleasure Misty derived from using his new title to mock him occasionally, was still unparalleled.

“I’m not really sure…” Ash gulped in reply, he was already preparing himself for getting dumped after just one date. He could almost picture the scandalous headlines, ‘Ash Ketchum; Master in Pokemon Battles, but a failure of a Boyfriend?’

“That’s just great, and you even made us leave all the Pokemon back home!” Misty cried out as quietly as she could, which was not quietly at all.

“Well did you really want Pikachu to be around on our first date?” Ash countered her angrily.

“At this point, I would love to go on a date with Pikachu instead.”

Ash pouted in response to her statement, and though this was not the time to think about such things, Misty couldn’t help but notice that even at 20, his face had managed to retain all the boyish cuteness from his pre-teen years and it still slightly made her heart beat faster.

“I can get us out of here just fine.” Ash muttered after a few minutes, still a bit disappointed by her statement.

“I’m sure that’s what you were planning to do once you finished your nap.” Misty rolled her eyes at his proclamation.

“So you do get it,” Ash’s face lit up at her response, the wide smile forming on it faltered as he added on an afterthought, “why did you wake me then?”

“Just for a second, try to imagine how I would feel in this situation, if you were sitting next to me taking a nap.” Misty snapped back at him.

“Well you’d feel better if you took a nap too.”

“I’ll feel better after kicking you in the groin too, guess which one is faster?”

“Holy Moltress, is that how you talk to all your boyfriends on first dates?”

She hoped that the boy next to her would not be able to see the redness that was all over her face now. It was silly, Misty told herself, to still get embarrassed like a schoolgirl at the thought of Ash being her boyfriend. When she quipped back a retort, it was more to make herself feel less embarrassed than to get on his nerves.

“Only the ones that get me abducted in an unknown region.”

Ash stopped fidgeting with the cuffs and ropes and immediately locked eyes with her, for the first time in many years Misty saw hesitation and doubt swirl through his chocolate eyes.

“You’ve had other boyfriends?” He asked solemnly, the disappointment in his voice was hard to miss but, the champion managed to maintain her gaze nevertheless.

“What? No. I was just playing along with you!” Misty blurted out immediately, she hated seeing him look so dejected and doubtful, especially because of her. She reminded herself that they weren’t just friends anymore and she should be careful with her words from now on.

“Thank Mew,” Ash breathed a sigh of relief, and relaxed his body that had become so tense just a few moments ago, “for a second I was worried I was the only virgin.”

All restraint and rationality went out of the windows as Misty nudged her boyfriend in the ribs, flushing from head to toe at his statement.

Ash winced at the action but managed to not cry out. They spent the next few minutes in silence, Misty seething with rage and embarrassment on one side and Ash, having forgotten the conversation already, looking for an escape route on the other.

“Let’s just kick a hole into the floor and swim out,” he sighed tiredly, suddenly breaking their silence.

“The ship will drown you idiot.” Misty replied flatly, still keeping her back towards him.

“So? I’m sure their Pokemon will help them out.” Ash stated, somehow gainging confidence in his plan, he started to closely observe the wooden floor they were currently perched on, looking for a spot that could he could easily break through.

“What if they don’t have a single water type on them?” Misty turned towards him to protest the idea again and rolled her eyes over his determined search for the perfect spot to smash through.

“Mist, if we keep bringing our conscience into it, we’ll never make it out of here.”

“What happened to the ten year old Ash Ketchum that I fished out of the lake?”

“He decided to grow a pair.”

“I’m gonna have to see those for myself to actually believe this statement.”

Once again, she was taken over by the flow of their usual banter and replied without thinking, regretting it as soon as the words left her mouth and settled in the air. Ash stopped his search and looked up at her, meeting her eyes with an incredulous look, slowly his lips started to curl upwards into a smirk and Misty couldn’t help but groan loudly at his reaction. He was never going to let her forget this statement.

“Well Mist, I promise you can look at them all you like after I get us out of here-“

“JUST STOP IT ALREADY!”

The door leading to the upper deck opened suddenly and the man who had thrown them inside appeared, his face pulsing with rage and frustration, and much to the couple’s surprise, there were tears streaming down his burly face.

“We kidnapped you two, to brainwash you into joining Team Rainbow Rocket and you have the audacity to sit handcuffed on our ship and flirt with each other?

Do you realize the dangerous situation you are in? Is this really the time to flirt with each other and show off how lovey-dovey you are? Do you know how hard it is to fall in love and get married when you’re working for an evil organization?

Just leave! We don’t need lovebirds like you in our team!”

As the man kept bellowing at them and managing to somehow sob at the same time, he came forward and unlocked their handcuffs and untied the ropes and then dragged the two back to the upper deck.

Ash and Misty were stunned into silence, with a deep blush covering both their faces, they followed the lead of their abductor without a question.

The ship was still docked at the pier they had been taken from and now were ushered back into within hours. As soon as they were off the ship, it set off into the horizon, their kidnapper’s loud sobs becoming fainter with every wave colliding with the shore. After a while of just standing and staring after the ship, Misty turned to face Ash and was relieved to see that he still looked as dazed and confused as she felt.

“As the Champion, don’t you have a duty to apprehend any and all criminal organization members?” She asked him, relieved about escaping their captor but worried if this will cause a dent in Ash’s career.

“Well, it looked like he was having a bad day. So I think I’ll let him go for today,” Ash replied, frowning slightly at his own words. He shook his head suddenly and Misty passed him a small smile, knowing that he was trying to make sense of the situation just like her. When he locked eyes with her again, a mischievous grin was set on his face, the kind that made Misty feel heated and made her heart race at twice the speed.

“Should we head back the hotel to finish our conversation?”

#pokeshipping #pokeani #ash x misty #ash ketchum #misty #pokemon fanfiction #writealot #pokeship

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leepace71 · 4 years

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When Pedro Pascal was roughly 4 years old, he and his family went to see the 1978 hit movie “Superman,” starring Christopher Reeve. Pascal’s young parents had come to live in San Antonio after fleeing their native Chile during the rise of dictator Augusto Pinochet in the mid-1970s. Taking Pascal and his older sister to the movies — sometimes more than once a week — had become a kind of family ritual, a way to soak up as much American pop culture as possible.At some point during this particular visit, Pascal needed to go to the bathroom, and his parents let him go by himself. “I didn’t really know how to read yet,” Pascal says with the same Cheshire grin that dazzled “Game of Thrones” fans during his run as the wily (and doomed) Oberyn Martel. “I did not find my way back to ‘Superman.'”

Before Pascal knew anything about “The Mandalorian,” its showrunner and executive producer Jon Favreau knew he wanted Pascal to star in it.

“The transience is something that I’m incredibly familiar with, you know?” Pascal says. “Understanding the opportunity for complexity under all of the armor was not hard for me.”

“I remember at one point not even realizing that my parents had accents until a friend was like, ‘Why does your mom talk like that?'” Pascal says. “And I remember thinking, like what?”

“And it changed me,” he says with almost religious awe. “It changed me.”

And then it all started to happen.

“It will never happen again,” Pascal says, once more in that incredulous whisper. “It felt so special.”

After all he’s done in a few short years, why wouldn’t Pascal think more roles like this are on his horizon?

“I don’t know!” he finally says with a playful — and pointed — howl. “I’m protecting myself psychologically! It’s just all too good to be true! How dare I!”

#pedro pascal #variety #interview

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animefan-overran · 4 years

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Birthday Surprise (Twinleafshipping)

****PART 4 (RATING: CUTE/FLUFF)****

MEANWHILE

“Hey, Dawn. Long time no see. Even though we can’t see each other because we’re talking on the phone and all haha… ugh no that sounds even dumber than the last line!” Barry spoke to himself whilst urgently pacing back and forth in front of his phone. It was only yesterday that he had gone fishing with his good friend Lucas, and ever since then, their conversation has saturated his mind.

“You’re gonna be 18 soon for crying out loud. You’re gonna have to man up sometime...” Lucas’s words echoed in Barry’s mind, making him cringe.

Ugh, I hate it when he’s right. I do need to tell Dawn how I feel at some point, but I don’t even know how to start out the conversation, let alone what I would even say when it comes to how I feel. Her smile ties my tongue, her humor pounds my heart, and her laugh sends chills down my spine… She makes me nervous, and yet I still want her to be all mine.

Barry shook his head clear, as he reached for the phone. “Ok, I’m thinking way too much. I just got to do it.”

With each dialed number, Barry’s fingers struggled more and more. He couldn’t believe his actions. Where in the world did this nerve come from? It’s like some kind of secret urge woke up inside of him, and he needed to satisfy it- he needed to tell Dawn the truth of his feelings.

His thoughts raced as the first ring fell silent. Oh boy, I’m actually doing this…

‘RINNNNGGG,; The second ring came and went, still no one. Maybe no one is home right now… Barry silently hoped. Just as he was about to hang up, he heard a familiar voice on the other side of the line.

“Johanna speaking, who might I be talking to?” Dawn’s mom answered.

In response, Barry seemed to freeze in fear. He totally forgot about the option of her mom answering the phone. “Uh hi, this is Barry,” he managed to croak out. “Uh, I would like to talk with Dawn. Is she home by any chance?”

For only a moment, there was a slight pause on the other end, before he heard a slight giggle, and an answer “Yeah, she’s home. Let me get her for you…”

********

Dawn grinned “You have yourself a deal!”

Just as Dawn and Ash had finished shaking hands, the front door of the house opened revealing Johanna. “Oh hi Ash and Pikachu! It’s nice to see you again. Your mom told me you might be coming by Sinnoh.” Johanna greeted.

Ash and Pikchu smiled in return “Yeah,” Ash took off his hat, running his fingers through his hair. “Pikachu and I wanted to do some special training before we head off to the next region, and we thought Sinnoh would be a great fit.”

“That’s great! Actually, I was planning on making some lemonade pretty soon. You and Pikachu should come inside for a glass, before you go and train.” Johanna offered.

“That sounds awesome, doesn’t it buddy?” Ash turned his head to ask Pikachu, who was already squealing with excitement.

“Cool! C’mon inside then. You know the drill, take your shoes off at the door.” Johanna explained, holding the door open for everyone to come inside. Being as discreet as possible, she pulled her daughter aside “Oh, and Dawn.” she whispered “There's a certain blonde waiting to talk to you on the phone. If I were you, I would act normal.” she encouraged patting Dawn on the shoulder.

Dawn’s heart skipped a beat. “What? You actually told him I was home? Sometimes I hate it when you tell the truth.” she whined. “Ugh, but I get it.”

Dawn sped over to the phone. She was unsure of what had gotten into her, but she needed to be on the other end of the line. A terrified curiosity had overtaken, her strides getting larger with each step. She tried not to think about how the next 5-10 minutes of her life would play out. Ugh, what if I slip, and end up saying something wrong? What if he tells me how he feels, what will I say then? she could feel the deep blush on her cheeks, as she finally reached the phone, slightly putting it up to her ear.

Dawn quietly breathed out one last time in an attempt to get rid of any last minute butterfrees that might have built up in her stomach. As much as she wanted to hear what Barry had to say, she equally wanted to be 6 feet underground, away from everyone. Ok, if Barry has the guts to call me, then I should have the guts to see what he has to say. With that thought, she found the courage to speak “Hey, Barry. What’s up” Dawn asked politely.

“Oh, not much,” Barry started “I just wanted to see if you could hang out sometime in the next couple of days. I thought it’s been a while since we spent time together, and I wanted to do it before my birthday party this weekend.” Barry explained.

Dawn held her breath in anticipation, contemplating on how to respond. Yes, of course she wanted to hang out with Barry, but she already had plans to give him his present during that time. Just as she found herself at a loss for words, her brain hatched a brilliant plan. “Yeah, actually. I would love to hang out with you. It’s Sunday now right? How about we hang out Wednesday? Come by my place at around noon? ” Dawn suggested.

A slightly audible sigh of relief could be heard on Barry’s end, which only made Dawn’s smile widen. “That sounds good,” Barry said. “See you then!”

“Sounds like a plan,” Dawn said as she hung up the phone.

Oh my God, what just happened? Dawn tried to suppress her snowballing thoughts as she sauntered to the kitchen table. She took a seat next to Ash, who was busy working on his third glass of lemonade.

“So, was that who I think it was?” Ash asked, wiping his mouth dry. Dawn’s quiet demeanor and lack of response gave her away instantly. Ash continued. “Ok, so how did it go then?”

Dawn face palmed to hide her ever growing blush “I don’t know. We set plans to hang out Wednesday,” Dawn explained whilst pouring herself a glass of lemonade. “ But I didn’t tell him that I arranged a scavenger hunt for him. Now, I’m going to be scrambling for time as Wednesday reaches closer. Everything needs to be in order for this to work out. This is all so stressful!” Dawn put her head down on the table. “Oh, and Ash.” she looked up to look him in the eyes “I also found out… I really like the idea of me and Barry being more than friends… I really don’t know what to do.”

Ash saw the confusion in Dawn’s eyes. He gave a knowing look to Pikachu who only nodded in return. “Dawn, it looks like you need some really good friends right about now. So, me and Pikachu are willing to forgo training in order to help you figure out every end of this. We want things to work out for you.”

A glimmer of hope flashed in Dawn’s eyes, and strength found its way back into her body, as she stood up from her seat. “Wow, Ash. You would really do that? Thank you. I mean, I have some ideas of what I want to do, but there are still so many things up in the air.”

“Yeah, of course! And don’t worry,” Ash smirked smugly “I also have some ideas of what you could do,”

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aboyandhisstarship · 4 years

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Human are weird: The GTO/SICON verse Reboot

The GTO, Or Galactic Treaty Organization is a military and political alliance between a number of species in the alpha quadrat of the galaxy. The GTO is a rather new organization only founded nine years ago following the first contact incident, where The Klendthu’s crash landed on a small cold planet on the edge of a solar system at the edge of the galaxy, and encountered a small outpost, one mis understanding later, and The Klendthu’s spent 6 Terren months fighting the creature’s from the fourth planet.

Once diplomacy was able to be established through communications a cease fire was called, and the strange race who called themselves Humans started a dialog.

Over the last nine years the alliance has grown to be a massive power house in economics, Politics and Defense. They are 4 major races in the alliance

The Klendthu Congress: an insect race with a regional hive mind, but don’t let that fool you, they are wicked smart and industrious. They have developed some of the most impressive mining tech available. Their planets is ruled by a Queen there entire government by the high queen, the average worker has about the same level of intelligence of a human 6 year old, but when working groups then can easily compete with a genius level human.

The Kalbur Merchant Empire: a race that vaguely resembles the big foots of earth legend. They are the economic Backbone of the GTO, there race is built around the building and creating of wealth, money heavily influencing there culture. Their government is run by a council of officials elected from the top business and workers unions on their world. In terms of technology they tend to lead in interstellar coms and other commercial type tech, with their military tech sorely lacking…as such they maintain an allied Military presence on their worlds.

The Verkia technocracy: an Aquatic telepathically floating species that vaguely resembles the squids of earth, they are the most advanced species in the known galaxy in almost every way. As such however they tend to be stiff and follow a very strict social custom; it is considered taboo for a student to leave the sciences in exchange for another discipline, sometimes leading as far as disowning by family and friends, or worse case total exile from Varikan society. There government is run by a council of appointed top scientists that are generally the heads of top instuites within Verikan space.”

The Strategically Integrated Collation of Nations: The Humans, the youngest race in the group as well as the craziest, Hailing from a death world on the edge of the galaxy where everything can and will kill you they are a society still recovering from finding out aliens even exist and there conflict with them. SICON was formed after the Pluto attacks from several of the earths major nation states, pushing aside the last barriers to unification. SICON is a democracy, with each former earth nation state, and Human colony earning a seat in the SICON Parliament with the majority seat holder winning said election with the party head becoming the Prime minster, Underneath them is the Star Marshal, commander in chief of the SICON Navy, and the ODT’s or Orbital Drop Teams… highly trained and equipped soldiers who go through a strict selection process. The nature of the human world as well as their Military technique’s make them the leader in Military technology by miles, with standard issue power suits for ground forces, the entire concept of Orbital insertion, air support and deep space carriers being introduced by the humans. These advantages are only enhanced by their natural predatory nature and ability to hone their bodies into killing machines….

T’Las groaned scratching her fur groaning “Great I keep making the humans sound terrifying.” The Kalbur sat back in the far too tall chair. It was built for a human after all she groaned, she sat in a gray metal room, the thick bulkheads joined into a thick window showing the swirls of hyperspace outside the window.

T’Las was grateful to the human for letting her take his office as he called it, but honestly being on a human ship was scary…well the entire assignment she was given was scary. 18 terran months ago a Verkian science ship crash landed on a Pre FTL society and well the folk on the planet went crazy fighting over the tech they could barely understand, by now only two groups remained on the planet before the GTO sent an intervention team, well Humans falling from the sky into your main base would put the fear of god into anyone and the sides agreed to moderated peace talks, she had actually been invited to dine in the captain’s cabin with the Ambassador, the Captain and the ODT Commanding officer, and had to quickly get ready. She put on her formal fur clips and quickly moved through the ship.

The Valley Forge is what the humans called it and as human ships go it was on the small side, only 400 meters long and 600 across. The vast majority was taken up by the Chekov drive core and the small retrieval ship and drop tubes for the ODT team. She left the section of the ship past a group of humans joking about something called a date, before she left the ODT region of the ship.

It took her a couple of minutes and asking for direction’s before she arrived at the metal door. She knocked and a human voice called “come in.”

Inside were to humans before dressed in their formal uniforms, one had more bars across her shoulders and was a human female, T’Las was able to identify as she introduced “Hello, you must be the reporter joining us, I’m Captain Hernández.”

The male human who was also in Dress uniform had shoulder patches on the side of his jacket that looked kind of like the Human drop pods as he introduced “Lieutenant William Erickson, ODT senior officer.”

T’Las carefully took the offered seat “Nice to meet you Captain Hernández, Lieutenant Erickson.”

There was sound of something scraping and a robotic voice saying “May I enter.”

Erickson and Herandez stood up as the door opened, in stepped a creature that walked on four legs, it was armoured and had 4 side facing eyes, attached to its chest was a small box, Herndez smiled “your Majesty.”

The creature screeched before a second later the robotic voice spoke “Captain, Lieutenant…we have known each other long enough to dispense with the Niceties surely.”

Erickson laughed “I’m sorry to say its official orders, they don’t want us causing too much trouble.”

Herndez chuckled as she said “you’re Majesty Queen of Gamma prime, this is T’Las of the Kalbur.”

T’Las had never seen a klendtuian queen before and muttered out a “Hello…your majesty.” She quickly added bowing slightly.

The queen made a chirping sound that robotic voice translated to a disjointed human laugh before saying “there is no need we are all equals here.”

The three of them sat down as a small platform elevated the queen to the table, Erickson took a sip of water saying “the squad says hi, and Futuba was real bummed she could not join us.”

The queen somehow betrayed a guine response through the robotic voice as she responded “I’m sorry they were unable to join, it has been for too long since I last saw dagger squad.”

A couple of humans still in there dress best placed done four plates, for the humans it was a simple salad meal with Erickson grinning “SICON figured streaks were not a good look.”

The queen chirped again as a plate of strange green slush was placed in front of her and T’Las got a salad in the style of her people. T’Las asked “so how do you all know each other?”

Erickson smiled without showing teeth “long story, it involves a lot of explosives.”

The queen scratched “it was my vessel that crashed on Pluto, then private Erickson, and then flight Lieutent Hernández crash landed in my den, we were lucky enough to have gotten our…talk box open…they were the first to talk to us…they helped us build peace.”

Erickson smiled “we got a cease fire and spent 3 weeks talking, we had to live off my mom’s cookies.”

The queen chirped “I’m sorry you could not eat our food.”

Herndez grinned “I thought the food was ok, the company was awful.”

Erickson looked genuinely hurt as the conversation moved to a different topic.

17 hours later:

T’Las was sitting in her quarters/ borrowed office mussing about the nature of Human space travel. Most other GTO races have adopted the supercharged carrier system, where the engines have a certain particle run through it in an infinite loop that somehow results in faster than light travel; Humans on the hand adopted the Chekov hyper drive, named after the human scientist Anton Chekov who invented it. The Chekov drive punches a hole in subspace allowing the human ship to enter into another dimension allowing the vessel hundreds time faster than the speed of light.

T’Las did not pretend to be well versed on the subject of interstellar Star ships but she started to write “as I fly on the human ship I noticed something interesting about the difference in the FTL Technology employed by SICON as opposed to the employed by the rest of the GTO, but first some background, for any ready who is not aware Humans are pursuit predators, what does this mean? imagine for a second that you are a terran creature, you see a human coming and run away. The issue is you are faster than the human but the human can chase you as far as they need to, sometimes for kilometers and days at a time.”

T’Las read that and said “NOPE.” She quickly edited “Being a Pursuit predator means they chase their prey, sometimes for days and across vast landscapes, just about anything can out sprint the average (non -power suit wearing) human, but in a distance race…you lose every time. What is the relevance of what I’m saying? Well Most FTL tech we know of is faster than Human hyperspace, but the Humans can go farther and for longer…Example, A Kalbur ship and a human ship need to cross GTO space, the distance is say 15 Cubic light years, The Kalbur ship would rock ahead of the ship until about 5 light years at which point it needs to slow down to let the engines recharge, by contrast the humans will stay be coming and easily overtake the Kalbur, once the Kalbur engines re charge they will jump and yet again overshoot the humans until uh oh, they have to stop again, meanwhile the humans have being moving at a steady pace this entire time and easily yet again over take the Kalbur and hit where they want to be easily hours before the Kalbur vessel.”

T’Las read it over before nodding approvingly “that’s better.” Adding “now the logical next question, what about in combat and yes it is as terrifying as you would think, the humans with their massive over gunned ships firing hunks of metal at a quarter of the speed of light at you, so you make a break for it…and you think you are in the clear then boom, they appear out of nowhere (reminder that we have yet to have anyway detect someone in Chekov travel, and if the humans do they are not sharing.) You can’t run you can’t hide you can only that they are feeling merciful.”

T’Las re read the last paragraph saying “way to dark…” deleting the last paragraph she smiled sending the story off, as well as her other noted on the function .

7 hours later:

T’Las heard a small knock on her door, and opened it to see a human with a strange shape on her face the human grinned “Hiyo.”

T’Las blinked “uhh hi?”

The human smiled “Specialist Futuba Kurogane, Dagger Squad, intel and Communication’s.”

T’Las nodded “Pleasure…uhhh not to be rude?”

Futuba grinned “oh yea right, this came for you from your boss,” Handing T’Las a drive saying “have a good one.”

T’Las played the message and it was her boss telling her “that last story is a gold mine! We have re run it 4 times and they still want more! Keep up the good work!”

T’Las rewatched the message 4 times saying “people are really that interested?”

2 hours later:

T’Las backed up as the creature advanced towards her, it was on four legs and bore it’s teeth as it sniffed her, the humans office door had closed cutting off her escape from the predator, T’Las considered making a break for it when a human shouted in a language her translator did not recognize. The creature instantly stopped sniffing her and trotted back towards the human, the human was a female of darker complexion who smiled sheepishly, saying to T’Las “sorry about Porthos here.”

T’Las took a deep breath before yelling “WHY DO YOU HAVE A DEADLY PREADTOR IN YOUR INCLOSED SPACESHIP!”

The human rolled her eyes “she is a MWD.”

T’Las said “what!?”

Erickson rounded the corner saying with crossed arms “heard some yelling, what’s the issue Specialist?”

He reached down petting the creature as the other human said “Porthos seems to put the fear of god into our guest here.”

Erickson sighed “Abebi, you know we had aliens onboard who would be scared of Porthos.”

Erickson looked at T’Las before saying “come on, I will fill you in.”

Mess hall:

Erickson drunk a glass of water explaining “there is a creature on earth called a dog.”

T’Las nodded following, as Erickson sighed “these animals have amazing sense of smell so we train them to find things for us; Porthos for instance is a bomb sniffer….so if you ever see him sit run….Abebi, is his Handler she takes care of leads the dog on mission’s…that make sense?”

T’Las sighed “sure you humans have trained a deadly predator to find equally deadly explosives for you…great…”

Erickson glanced at his wrist “we are almost at the planet get ready.”

Clapping T’Las on the shoulder

Hanger bay:

The ship rocked as it dropped out of hyperspace, Ericson was dressed in strange 4 piece garments with dark lens over his face as he explained “this place was a warzone a few days ago, so stay close and do as we tell you, everyone follow?”

The queen squawked her affirmative and T’Las nodded awkwardly as they boarded the military drop craft.

4 hours later:

The conference had been going on for hours now with the creature Porthos and his handler walking around constantly as the rest of the humans eyed the assembled crowd, so far everything was safe and secure. The peace was signed But then the meet and greet and the glad handing with the all the ambassador’s started, and well T’Las was happy she had her camera drone on for what happened next.

The drone had been flying around the room for about twenty minutes when an alien stepped forward to speak to the ambassador’s, Porthos walked towards the alien sniffing before sitting facing him. T’Las remembering what Erickson said looked for something to hide behind as all the humans in the room stiffed, The queen knowing what Porthos was as well changed color, however the aliens on the planet did not know what was about to happen. A tense second later, small sliver looking weapons appeared in the humans hands as Erickson yelled “hands in the air!”

Porthos rose up barking as Erickson yelled “Abebi!”

The handler nodded “on it sir!” yelling something in a strange human language, the dog advanced on the now terrified alien, sniffing before looking at the creatures jacket and growling. The humans moved in as Erickson said “Futuba call for evac, Abebi.”

The handler interrupted “checking the entire room got it.”

Erickson threw the alien down pulling out a bomb he quickly defused he said “Valley Forge we are pulling out over!”

The delegation quickly moved out to the waiting drop ship, handing the would be bomber over to the locals they blasted off, the humans visibly relaxed and started chatting with each other and the queen like they all almost didn’t get blown up, leaving T’Las to come to the conclusion “Humans are weird. “

#SICON verse #humans are weird #humans are space orcs

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rivkahstudies · 5 years

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do you have any advice for a high school senior who wants to make the most of their last year of high school? asking for a friend :)

hi darling! I think the things I remember most from my senior year (though it was only two years ago that it started) can be summarized in, “crazy busy, crazy stressful, but at times, crazy fun.” Here’s to making the most of it, and maintaining health while you do so!

This is going to be combination masterpost and advice post, because I’ve accumulated a lot on this subject and I have a loooot to say.

Also this is heavily based off of the assumption you’re pursuing higher education, but some of these things still apply/can be tweaked.

table of contents:

i. academics

ii. social life

iii. personal health

i. 𝓪𝓬𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓶𝓲𝓬𝓼

a. grades

They’re important for your future if your plan is to go to college or academy, but they’re not the whole world. (see social life and personal health)

I’m not a big fan of the “3-to-1 rule” or other such things that tell you “study for this amount of time no matter what” because it’s important for you to understand what comes naturally to you and what you need further clarification on. Some classes are going to take up less of your time than others.

The best you can do on a given day isn’t necessarily 100%. Sometimes your best that day is 90%, 80%, 60%. “try your best” isn’t “your best ever” so don’t push yourself for 100s every time for the expense of categories ii and iii.

A lot of people (at least in places like where I went to high school) who are hung up on the stress of competition and the need to be The Best™ are going to ask you for grades. It’s going to be everywhere. Assignment grades, test grades, SATs, ACTs, (if you’re not in the US, the equivalents of your state, regional, or national standardized tests), entrance exams, et cetera, et cetera. I know it’s tempting to fall into the anxiety of whether you measure up, but here’s a quick tip: even if you think you did well/above average, you can keep it private. It infuriated my classmates when I wouldn’t share, because I was comfortable with how I competed with myself and didn’t care what my peers thought of my scores.

When you’re someone as dedicated to studying as I am, you might get a lot of “oh, you got that grade because you’re you” (the underlying implication being that it’s natural or the work is easy for you, which was not the case for me) or “ha! I got higher than (name)! I measure up!” This is a lot of their own biases and insecurity talking and the best way not to be affected is not to buy into it. Again, this is based on my own experience.

I really cannot emphasize extra credit enough because some of my teachers threw it around like candy and some of them barely drizzled a little in at intervals, but either way it really saved me when it came to rounding my grades up.

It never hurts to have a grade tracker if you’re concerned, you don’t get graded by total points accumulation/have a weighted system, and/or don’t have an easy way to access your grades online throughout the year.

find your study strategy/ies for each class and stick to it/them. It won’t necessarily be the same. I’m a primarily visual learner, and it really, really helps for most things, but I still need rote memorization for subjects with a lot of vocabulary, like medicine or languages.

further resources

studying without notes by @fuckstudy .

prioritizing that crazy to do list (the abcde method) by @eintsein

a comphrensive guide to anki (flashcards online) by @studyingstudent

a stash of tiny study tips by @acalmstudiousfirecracker

and much much more on my #studyref tag.

b. extracurriculars

These I think matter (though I’m biased) more than grades, because they’re what shape you and your experience. Most of the students at my university had grades like mine, but it’s the places I frequented and the people to whom I devoted my time that formed my sense of self. I have so many skills, anecdotes, and ideas that I’ve gained from my extracurricular work.

If you have any you’ve stuck with since early in high school and you still like, keep ‘em. Quality over quantity. Show jobs or universities you can be dedicated and disciplined, and have stamina to see projects to the end. (I was in 7 and held leadership positions in 4 and it was probably part of the reason why I spent all of senior year on three hours sleep… besides my IB classes of course.)

If you’re not pursuing college immediately or at all (or even if you are), participate in ones that pull you out of your comfort zone and teach you something new.

ii. 𝓼𝓸𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓵 𝓵𝓲𝓯𝓮

Treat this category as you would anything else in your schedule–requiring time and being a significant priority. Not always at the very top, but still demanding its own attention.

See friends outside of school, for however long or short a period, at least once every week to two weeks. This can include extracurricular time if you’re pressed.

Schedule time with your family (especially if their lives are also cluttered and hectic) do something dynamic, and also something separate that’s relaxing. One week your family time might be reading in the same room and having gentle conversation or a family dinner; the next might be going out to the movies or taking a hike together. It can be easy to feel taken for granted or to take family for granted.

By the way, this includes “chosen” family if you’re not on great terms with some/all of them. I have experience with this too.

Get. Out. Of. The. House. This plays into “personal health” too! You need a change in rhythm/routine and exposure to the outside. Especially in your winter season.

I’m one of those people who has to have things scheduled way in advance, so family/curfew/etc permitting, do something a little bit spontaneous, say with only a few hours or a couple days notice. It will make you feel more alive if you’re in a stressful slump.

Communication is really important, especially if you’re stressed. Don’t be afraid to tell people “I am sensitive/hyperreactive to X because Y is putting me on edge right now” or “this triggers X insecurity because I’m anxious about Y.” This goes doubly if you’re struggling with mental illness. Talk to someone you trust. (See “personal health.”)

Don’t give in to peer pressure if you’re spent the time you need with friends and have to excuse yourself for other responsibilities. Balance!

No is equally as important to respected as Yes, no matter what the case.

Respect boundaries but invite people to challenge their comfort zone at their space.

Don’t be broken up if a romantic relationship doesn’t last. It’s senior year. Everything’s changing. Let it.

Also, please don’t be like me and let your summer/your school year be eaten up with relationship drama. I thankfully ended a difficult relationship early (late September) so it wasn’t a huge issue, but I watched people close to me struggle with while also battling the stress of the year.

iii. 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓵 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓽𝓱

mentally

If you’re struggling with mental illness, be aware of your own limits and pace yourself.

Sometimes we feel dull because we need to break routine/stimulate ourselves in a new way. You should have a structure/routine, but it should be flexible enough for you to adapt to changes and listen to what your mind and body are telling you.

The path to self-love must first begin with self-acceptance. If you struggle with self-image or self-esteem issues, you can’t build positivity off a foundation of negativity. You must first level it to neutrality.

Perform check-ups with yourself. This may be in the form of meditation, a diary, therapy, etc. None of these things are a “last resort” but rather a healthy part of building good mental habits.

physically

Exercise! You don’t have to be a star athlete to bring about the benefits. Even a 15 minute jog, 30 minute walk/hike, or 10 minutes of stretching can give you benefits.

On that note! Take! Frequent! Breaks! And please, please google stretches for certain body parts like hands if you do repetitive motion like drawing or writing for a long period of time! You don’t want to push yourself!

Listen to your body and don’t ignore pain, hunger, nausea, fatigue, etc. Respond patiently and with what’s appropriate.

Don’t forget about diet. It’s easy when you’re busy to reach for the quick and nutritionally poor snacks/meals, but it’s really important to set aside time to cook/meal plan or even just throw together a quick snack tray of fruits/crackers/cheeses/etc. It doesn’t have to be instragrammable but you should have a balanced diet that factors in your specific needs, if you have any restrictions, etc.

Change yo pillow case frequently kids, it does wonders for acne.

I cannot stress enough! To! Stay! Hydrated! My goal is eventually eight glasses a day but my minimum is 4-5. I try to have one every meal, especially in college.

Bedtime is important! But more than that, wake up time is important. If you’re trying to adjust your schedule and can only keep one consistent, choose the time you wake up. Eventually your body will naturally become fatigued for the bedtime to match it. It’s how I turned my sleep schedule from 12:00 AM to 8:00 into 9:30 PM to 5:30 AM over the course of one winter break!

If you’re a morning person, you’re a morning person. If you’re a night owl, you’re a night owl. There’s research now to prove that forcing yourself into a rhythm too extreme for your tendencies can make you feel awful either way.

At the end of the day, you’ve got one goal and one goal only: to look back on this year and be proud of what you’ve achieved and how you’ve grown. You shape your future and choose what matters most in your life!

If there’s anything else you think I’ve missed or you’d like me to cover more in depth/link more posts to, please ask me! I’d be happy to clarify/continue this series! I want to make sure you’re completely satisfied.

#sleepover #annabethofcolor #rivkah answers #my advice #masterpost #high school #high school seniors #studyref

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munstergps-blog · 4 years

Text

Munster GPS opens in the UK

Car GPS Live Tracking Devices with no monthly fees | Free App and Web Portal

Welcome to Munster GPS, the home of UK GPS tracking technology. We supply both SIM GPS trackers and SIM free GPS trackers. The SIM free trackers are the latest in tracking technology and are fast becoming a favourite due to their plug and play operation and extended battery life up to 3 years.

There are many GPS tracker manufacturers around the world and many more suppliers. Our GPS Trackers have long battery life, built in shock sensors and accurate GPS positioning. They can be used on a person, vehicle or pet. The vehicle trackers when installed reduce your insurance premiums by as much as 40%.

Munster GPS UK was started in January 2014.

The developer of the Business originally worked as a Design Engineer producing DC-DC converters which are used with GPS tracker products and had a particular interested in GPS navigation.

The developers personal story on how he was introduced to the world of GPS tracking after his dog went missing for several days. He finally found her but spent a long time browsing the internet for a solution and found it difficult to find something that was affordable and fit for purpose.

Also on another occasion while in a busy shopping centre a customers kids went missing. The kid was only missing for 1 or 2 minutes but it gave him enough of a fright to get back browsing for more information on GPS Trackers.

6 months were spent purchasing GPS tracker samples and testing them. Eventually coming up with a matrix outlining the pros and cons of each product taking into account the following:

GPS Sensitivity

Price

Battery Life

Technical Support

Quality

Compatibility

There is now list of products that we can safely say are affordable and fit for purpose. Please do not hesitate to contact Munster GPS with any questions you may have.

Where to purchase my Tracking Device

Purchasing a GPS tracker can be a daunting experience. There are so many tracker retailers

out there from established office based retailers to the amateur seller on EBAY or Aliexpress. The amateur sellers on Ebay and Aliexpress will more than likely sell you a copy of the original tracker. These are much cheaper as they don’t have to go through the same rigorous tests such as CE conformity tests, Temperature testing, Vibration testing etc.

My advise when purchasing online from a retailer website are: 1. Make sure the retailer has a real office address. 2. Make sure the business has a phone number for support clearly advertised on the website. 3. It is a bonus if the business is located in your own locality/country. 4. Check the ongoing charges after your initial purchase. If you purchase a GPS tracker without a SIM card you need to purchase one for £10 and add credit every month which would be a minimum of £10. This totals £130 per year every year thereafter on top of the purchase price.

SIM or SIM free

One of the most common questions I get asked is “what’s the difference between SIM and SIM free trackers”.

For most applications I would recommend a SIM tracker as it uses the existing GSM network which reaches about 99% of the population.

Sim-Free trackers are useful when a long battery life is essential and tracker accuracy and position upload frequency aren’t so important.

GPS Tracker Data SIM cards

You can purchase most off the shelf prepaid or Billed SIM cards and use them to operate a tracker.

However you would need to change the tracker settings as per tracker instructions so it can recognize the new SIM card. This involves changing the APN to that of the new SIM card. Shelf SIM cards are becoming less expensive and if you are using the tracker for a short term application they will work just fine. However if you need a tracker to operate over several years it will become very expensive as it would cost in the region of £10 per month which quickly adds up.

When purchasing a tracker for a long term application ensure it has a data SIM installed. It shouldn’t cost anymore than £3 per month if a data SIM is used which significantly reduces your outgoings. A data SIM in a tracker uses in the region of 10mB per month.

What’s the best tracking device for a dog or cat

For dogs the first question I ask is if the tracker will be on the dog 24/7 or just for periods of the day.

For a hunting dog the tracker would be on for normally a period of the day. i.e. Less than 12 hours. Because the battery life is not an issue over this amount of time I’d recommend the SIM tracker as it is very accurate with position updates as often as 30 seconds and with 99% coverage.

For a hunting Dog or Cat that requires a tracker to be attached 24/7 the SIM tracker is not an option as it would require daily recharging similar to a mobile phone. In my experience this is fine for a couple of weeks but you will become tired of constantly removing the tracker on a daily basis for recharging. Instead I would recommend a SIM-Free SIGFOX tracker. It is not as accurate as it doesn’t upload a new position as frequent as the SIM tracker and the coverage is not as good as the SIM GSM trackers but it has a far superior battery life that lasts weeks rather than hours.

What’s the best GPS Tracker for a car

There are two types of trackers you can use for a car depending on your needs.

First option is the OBD tracker. This is the simplest to use. You just locate the OBD port in your car (usually under the steering wheel) and plug it in. The OBD port looks like a SCART socket on the back of your TV. There is now wiring involved as the tracker is powered from the voltage on the OBD port.

Second option is a magnetic tracker that can be placed anywhere in the car. You stick it to a metal panel using the powerful tracker magnet. You can either work off the power from the inbuilt rechargeable battery or you can wire to the car voltage using a voltage reducer that normally comes with the tracker

Do trackers work abroad

A GPS tracker that uses a SIM card works throughout the world as long as the SIM card works.

For a GPS tracker to operate it needs a Satellite signal and a GSM signal. The GSM signal is dependent on the provider associated with the SIM card in the tracker. Ensure you contact your SIM provider before going abroad to make sure it is data enabled for the country you are visiting.

Satellite coverage is sufficient in most cases outdoors regardless of the country you visit. However the satellite signal will be attenuated while indoors. If you are near a window or if there is a light roof overhead you may receive a signal

What is the smallest GPS tracking device

I get asked quite often what is the smallest GPS tracker on the market.

Unfortunately there is a trade off between GPS tracker size and the length of time it will work between charges. Inside a GPS tracker you have a GSM chip with SIM card and associated circuitry, A GPS chip with associated circuitry and a battery with associated circuitry.

The battery is the largest component in the tracker by far taking up on average 80% of tracker space.

The smallest readily available tracker on the market is the size of a wrist watch. A tracker this size will work for a maximum of 12 hours between charges. If you want a tracker to last longer it needs to be physically larger to accommodate the battery power needed.

There are other trackers available that are even smaller than a wrist watch but to save power they do not have a GPS chip installed and instead use triangulation between transmitters which is only accurate down to +/- 1km

Munster GPS UK

Wind and Sun

Munster GPS Ireland

#car gps trackers #motorbikes #gps tracker #gps tracking device market #gps tracking device #car tracker #personal tracker

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blurry-fics · 5 years

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Valentine’s Day

Pairing: Tyler Joseph x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1308

Author’s Note: After my very anti-Valentine’s day Tyler post last year, I decided to do the complete opposite this year and do something that’s totally fluffy and sweet. I hope you guys like this one as well 💕 (Josh Post)

You kicked your shoes off by the door and made a beeline for the couch. As much as you loved going out to nice dinners with Tyler, it never quite beat sitting around at home in your pajamas with him. Of course, with it being Valentine’s Day, Tyler had insisted that you two go get dressed up and actually have a nice meal together among your busy schedule.

“I’m ready for a nap after that,” you said, grabbing a blanket from the end of the couch and pulling it over your body. “I think I drank one too many glasses of wine.”

“You can’t sleep yet.” Tyler walked over and took a seat next to your legs. “I haven’t even given you your gifts yet.”

“Gifts? I thought we weren’t buying each other anything this year.”

“Gifts are still gifts even if they aren’t bought from a store.”

“Alright, let me change into pajamas and then we can give stuff to each other,” you mumbled.

Tyler pressed a gentle kiss to your temple before moving so that you would be able to get off the couch. You headed upstairs and changed into a comfortable pair of shorts and a shirt from the Regional at Best era that Tyler had given to you way back when you first started dating. It felt like a lifetime ago now.

The things that you had made for Tyler were tucked up into a corner of the closet, hidden behind boxes of your snow clothes that rarely got touched. You shoved the box aside, kicking up more dust than you would have liked in the process, and carefully grabbed what you needed. The look on Tyler’s face was going to be absolutely priceless.

You took a seat on the couch and waited for Tyler to return from changing into his own pajamas. While you waited, you decided to turn on some music so that the house wouldn’t be so quiet while the two of you exchanged gifts.

He came down the stairs a couple minutes later, wearing an oversized t-shirt over his favorite pair of sweatpants. You immediately started to laugh as you noticed the bouquet of flowers in his hand.

“What?” he asked, his face falling a little bit. “Is it something I’m wearing?”

“No, not at all,” you smiled. “It’s just this.”

You grabbed the bouquet of flowers that was sitting next to you, which was identical to the one that Tyler was holding in his hand.

“We bought each other the same flowers?” he laughed.

“I guess we did.”

He took a seat next to you on the couch and gave you a quick kiss, “I guess we just know each other too well.”

You each set your flowers on the coffee table; the couch was too comfortable for either of you to be bothered to put them in a vase right this very second.

“Should I give you my gift first?” you asked, nervously drumming your fingers along your leg.

Tyler smiled, “Sure.”

You grabbed your gift from where you had hidden it last minute under the blanket. Tyler’s eyebrows furrowed as you revealed the book and slowly handed it to him.

“Tyler and Y/N,” he read the letters that you had carefully drawn on the cover. His smile slowly grew as he opened it to the first page, “Is this a scrapbook?”

“Yeah,” you let out a breath of air at his positive reaction. “I’ve been working on it for a couple months now, using whatever time I can get when you’re in the studio or running errands.”

He slowly began to look through the pages, smiling at each one. You had included almost every significant memory that you could think of and made sure to collect mementos from each. There was a picture of you two from the first time you had met at one of their tiny hometown shows right before they got signed next to the ticket stub that you had kept in your wallet up until this moment. Confetti from the first show of the Blurryface era along with a picture Brad had taken right before Tyler and Josh went on stage. Pictures from your wedding day, the first letter you had sent him on tour after you started dating, and countless other things that you had managed to find and incorporate into the book.

Tyler wiped a tear away from his eye and closed the scrapbook. “Y/N, this… I think this is the best gift that I’ve ever gotten.”

You smiled, “Do you really mean that?”

“Of course I do. It’s like a highlight reel of all the best moments of my life. I love it.”

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you into his side. You leaned your head against his shoulder and squeezed him tightly.

“I don’t know that I’ll be able to live up to this,” he laughed.

“Of course you will,” you reassured him.

He finally let go of you and reached into his pocket. From it, he pulled out a little velvet box. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of it, despite the fact that the two of you had been married for close to four years now.

“Here,” he said, handing you the box.

You took a moment to study the box before you popped it open. Inside was a small ring, not unlike the wedding ring you already wore, made out of silver. You carefully took it out of the box and began to examine it.

“Does it say something?” you asked, bringing it a little closer to your face.

“Yeah.”

The writing was hard, but not impossible, to read. You took a moment to read it over a few times before saying it out loud.

“For you, I’d go write a slick song just to show you the world.” You paused, “What does that mean?”

Tyler grinned, “One moment.”

He got off the couch and all but ran into the other room. When he returned a few moments later, he had his ukulele in his hands and a dorky grin on his face. You were still confused, but it was hard not to smile as Tyler excitedly adjusted his uke in his arms.

“Ok, I know this isn’t like the final version of the song or anything since it’s acoustic, but I spent all last week finishing this song so that I would have it done for you today.”

“You’re putting a song on the record for me?” you asked.

“You know I had to.”

Tyler hadn’t even started singing and your eyes were beginning to water. He reached out and gave your hand a light squeeze before he strummed the strings once.

“It’s called Smithereens.”

You listened intently as Tyler played the song for you, hanging on to every word that came out of his mouth. It only took the first verse for tears to start consistently falling down your cheeks. As soon as he played the final chord and set his ukulele down, you threw your arms around him and hugged him as tightly as you could.

“Did you like that?” he asked, snaking his arms around your waist.

“I loved it, Ty. It means so much to me that you would write a song about me. Not to mention that you’re actually putting it on the next album.”

“I just want the whole world to know how much I love you, Y/N Joseph.”

“And I love you too, Tyler Joseph.”

Tyler fell back onto the couch, bringing you with him since you two still had your arms wrapped around one another. You laughed and pressed your forehead to his so that you could stare into his brown eyes.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispered before pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“Here’s to many more.”

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sugarcontent322-blog · 4 years

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Reminiscence — A Trip to Remember

This article was first published on Medium.

It’s been a few months since my solo trip to Japan, and I still remember vividly every single moment with precise detail. I mean, how could I not? It was the most memorable trip that I ever had, not to mention, my very first solo trip. Remembering every moment brings joy and excitement to my heart, which gave me the motivation and drive to write this journal.

I wasn’t planning to travel alone in the first place, to be honest. The thought of solo travelling never did cross my mind whenever I planned an overseas trip. Part of the reason was because I felt it would be too boring without friends, without having someone to talk to. But, circumstances *psst— leave approvals* prevented me from joining my friends’ itinerary. And thus I was left with the option of planning a solo trip.

Planning an itinerary alone proved to be very enjoyable, as I realized. Researching on places to visit, planning the route and mode of transport, day-to-day schedules, it gives you a sneak preview of what kind of adventure awaits. Not to mention, I can go wherever I want to go, as my mind pleases. That’s sort of a main perk of solo travelling I guess, flexibility in plans. Few days before my flight, I switched a day in Osaka with a trip to Hiroshima, just because I suddenly had the urge to explore. It was one of the best decisions I have ever made.

My trip lasted for 10 days, travelling through Tokyo, Kyoto, Osaka and Hiroshima. Looking back at my itinerary, I wondered how I was able to follow through such a spartan schedule. Everyday was a visit to a new area, and I never did spend much of my time in the city, only at night when I’m done for the day.

Waking up at 7.30am every morning (why can’t I have the same motivation for work!), I planned to start my day early so I could maximize my time spent at places I was visiting. Having bought the painfully expensive JR Pass, I had unlimited rides on JR lines and also the shinkansen, so I was determined to capitalize on it as much as possible. Booking my shinkansen ride at 8/9 plus, I was always rushing to the station without having breakfast. Hunger wasn’t a concern to me, but missing my ride was. And yes, I have missed x number of trains throughout this trip, and 1 particular shinkansen which got me panicking for the first time on the trip.

Kamakura

Throughout my stay in Tokyo, I visited Kamakura, Nikko and Hakone. Approximately 1 hour away from the capital city, each of these places have their own iconic landmarks. My first destination was Kamakura, a suburb filled with Buddhist Zen temples and shrines. Walking on the streets of Kamakura felt different from walking in Tokyo, there was no no urge to walk briskly, no rush. Everyone around me was strolling casually along Hachiman-gu street, occasionally stopping halfway to indulge on the variety of souvenirs, sweets and snacks that the roadside shops had to offer.

I was absorbed into the 'slow-paced life’ of Kamakura, and took time to appreciate the traditional architecture of the shops, before reaching Tsurugaoka Hachiman-gu at the end of the street. At the entrance of the temple, I chanced upon a pair of Japanese newlyweds decked in Japanese wedding kimonos, having a photoshoot with a group of people who seemed to be like their families and relatives. The tourist spirit inside me sprung into life, as I whipped out my phone to take a couple of photos and an instastory. Mind you, I wasn’t alone in doing this.

Venturing into the temple, I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw yet another pair of Japanese newlyweds! This time, the pair were in the middle of a ceremony, exchanging vows as per tradition, I guessed. Then again, Kamakura is a place famed with its shrines, so its no surprise that newlyweds would hold their wedding ceremony here. But still, to chance upon two wedding couples on the same day, I think I was very fortunate and lucky. On towards Hase, which is 3 Enoden (the local railway in Kamakura) stops away from Kamakura station, I went to visit the famous bronze Great Buddha Daibutsu.

The Great Buddha statue, Daibutsu

A majestic, magnificent statue. I stood still for a few minutes, just staring intently in awe at the great figure in front of me. The interior was open to visitors for a small fee, and there were details of the weight, the height of each part of the statue. I took a few photos, paid my respects to the Daibutsu, and headed back to Tokyo for dinner.

I met up with my Japanese friend in Kanda, he brought me to an Izakaya his friend owned. While we were having dinner halfway, there were a huge group of people in colourful traditional costumes, parading and cheering down the streets of Kanda, carrying a lavishly decorated palanquin. My friend explained that there was a festival happening— the Kanda Matsuri. Another lucky coincidence!

Although this was supposed to be a solo trip, I did meet up with some groups of friends for dinner sometimes. Honestly, I was really lucky to have company for some parts of my journey, given my talkative nature, so shout-out to those people (you know who you are ☺).

Nikko

The next day was a long, long journey into Nikko, taking the Tohoku shinkansen to Utsunomiya station, the local Nikko line towards Nikko station. I used the 2 hour travelling time to review my plans for the day — head to Ryuzu Falls, which is the start of the nature trail, towards Senjougahara Marshlands, Yudaki Waterfall, and finally Yumoto Onsen. Never would I have thought that I’ll willingly go on a nature trail myself, but hey there’s a first for everything I guess.

Ryuzu-no-taki, Ryuzu Waterfall

Alighting at the Ryuzu-no-Taki bus stop, I stared at the limitless flight of stairs in front of me. Did I mess up, I wondered? I didn’t know these stairs existed when I was researching the area! Well, that was the start of my “spartan” trail, as I dubbed it. When I reached the top, I realized that the flight of stairs was not even part of the nature trail! If I alighted one stop after, I would have skipped the stairs altogether. Oh well, lesson learnt and I continued (started) forward nevertheless.

A warning sign at the entrance of the trail — beware of bears!

Unfortunately (or fortunately), there were no signs of wildlife to be seen throughout the trail, only birds which I was unable to identify. The journey to Senjougahara marshlands was a brief one; took roughly half an hour to reach. I was greeted by the majestic view of the marshlands — its hard to believe that such a breathtaking landscape was 1400 meters above sea level! The rustling of leaves in the wind, the serenity it exudes, made the whole hiking trip worthwhile.

Fast forward to the journey back to Tokyo city, I was racing for time to catch my shinkansen to Shin-Osaka at 8.33pm, because my accommodation for the night was there. Unfortunately, I was 6 minutes late (Yes, I vividly remember) and my shinkansen had left without me. I went to inquire at the ticketing counter in Tokyo station whether there were any Osaka-bound trains left, and the earliest ride was next morning. Then the sudden realization hit me. I was left stranded in Tokyo, without any accommodation.

Hungry and angry — “hangry”, I was walking around Tokyo station aimlessly. The cons of solo travelling started to surface: I felt lost, I didn’t know what to do, nobody was around to tell me what to do, there was nobody for me to discuss with. Cold sweat, goosebumps — you name it, I felt it. Firstly I had to find a way to calm myself down. I went into a Family Mart, dragging my luggage along, bought a bottle of Mitsuya Cider (good stuff, highly recommend), and took a huge gulp.

Now that I have calmed down, it’s time to make a Plan B. I whipped out my phone, opened the Agoda app and searched for the nearest capsule hotel with a vacancy. Fortunately, capsule hotels are aplenty in Tokyo, and I had no issues finding one with a vacancy — in Kanda, just a street away from the Izakaya I had dinner at the day before. After settling down in my new accommodation and grabbing dinner at a nearby eatery, I crashed into my bed. It was a long roller-coaster ride of a day, and it was about to get even more exhausting, because I would be starting the next day with a 6.26am shinkansen to Osaka!

Miyajima, Hiroshima

For my first time stepping outside of the Kanto region, I was excited to explore more places that I could only see through the Internet. The first place I visited was Miyajima, an island off the coast of Hiroshima, western Honshu. Though Miyajima was totally out of the way for my plans, I just went with it because hey, with the power of my JR pass I can go anywhere! It was really easy to get to Miyajima also, connected by local trains from Hiroshima, since it’s a popular tourist destination that hosts the World Heritage Site: Itsukushima Shrine.

On board the JR ferry, I could clearly spot the iconic “floating” torii gate over the distance. Its tall orange pillars stuck out like a sore thumb amidst the green and turquoise landscape of Miyajima.

Spotting the torii gate over the distance

When I disembarked from the ferry, I couldn’t believe what I saw — there were deers all around! There was no mention of deers roaming around the populated areas of Miyajima when I was doing my itinerary planning, or so I believed. But, unlike their counterparts in Nara, the deers in Miyajima are not really as tame and friendly. They don’t bow unfortunately, I tried in embarrassment. There were warning billboards that advise tourists not to feed the deers as they are considered wild animals. Nevertheless, I did spot some deers approaching tourists for snacks, though in a slightly aggressive manner.

Stare-down with a deer outside the Miyajima pier

Before heading into Itsukushima shrine, I took a little detour to take a look at the floating torii gate. Luckily for me, it was low tide and sightseers were able to walk down the coastline and get a close-up with the majestic torii gate. I stood in front of the torii gate, staring intensely at its pillars. To think that this structure remained unscathed and survived the destruction brought by the atomic bomb in World War 2, it truly is a miracle indeed. The bottom part of the pillars were eroded though, because of the waves. Tourists took this opportunity to grab a selfie/group photo with the torii gate, including me.

Up and close with the famed ‘untiltable’ torii gate

After visiting the torii gate and Itsukushima shrine, I headed out for my main objective of the day: reaching the summit of Mt Misen, the highest mountain in Miyajima. Of course, I wasn’t going to start my ascent from scratch, there were ropeway services that brought tourists up to Shishi-iwa observatory, and another 30 minutes walk up to reach the summit. However simple it sounds, this walk is far from easy. Slopes after slopes, I kept leaning my body forward to push myself up these slopes.

Along the way I met a bunch of hikers, tourists and locals. When we walked past each other, I was caught off guard by their afternoon greeting konichiwa, I couldn’t react in time to give my reply, barely giving a smile and bowing my head slightly in return. Such an act of courtesy was heartwarming. Almost every Japanese people greeted me on my way up to the summit, to the point where I started to initiate the greetings myself.

Rock formations at the summit of Mt. Misen

The view at the summit of Mt Misen was absolutely breathtaking. You could see the Hiroshima Bay in its entirety. Fresh air, clear blue skies and clouds, invigorating wind, all these made my effort (and money spent) worthwhile. Having accomplished my plan for the day, I spent the remaining afternoon browsing through Omotesando shopping street.

On a side note, if you’re planning to visit Miyajima, don’t forget to grab some Momiji Manjyu as souvenirs on your way back! They are Miyajima’s specialty, and they well deserve that title.

Kyoto

Kyoto — the land of temples and shrines, was nothing short of amazing. In this laid back town, the streets are not as bustling as its neighboring city Osaka, just peace and quiet. Also, the number of temples and shrines in this town is astonishing; for every few hundred meters you walk, there is almost certainly a temple or shrine nearby. But, each and every temple or shrine has its own story to tell, with different history and architecture. For travelers seeking out Japanese religious culture, Kyoto certainly is a must-visit.

As I was travelling solo, I could quickly decide what I wanted to do, so I tried to visit as many landmarks as I could within the two days I allocated in my itinerary. Places like Ginkaku-ji, Kinkaku-ji, Kiyomizu-dera are “mandatory” visits for tourists in Kyoto, so I prioritized those places first. I was fortunate enough to be accompanied by a friend of mine, despite a hectic schedule, if not I’ll be hopelessly lost in Kyoto’s complex bus system.

I have to say, riding on a Kyoto bus was interesting, and a tad scary. The entrance is at the back, which was supposed to be where the exit is, and vice versa. Only at the terminus do commuters board from the front. Also, I noticed that Japanese drivers like to drive very, and I mean VERY, close to one another, leaving just a few inches of gap, too close for comfort. So when the bus I was on came utterly close to a car beside (I sat at a window seat, so I could see the car being CRAZILY near), I felt very uneasy and claustrophobic.

Shortly after I arrived in Kyoto, I was told by my friend that there was a festival Aoi Matsuri, one of the three main festivals in Kyoto, happening at the Kyoto palace. Second festival that’s happened during my trip, how lucky I was, really! I pushed my plans back and headed straight for the palace. A large crowd had already gathered outside the entrance of the palace, with some photographers setting up their gear in preparation for the big event. But the first of the palanquins appeared only an hour later, and suddenly the crowd sprung into action, whipping out their phones and cameras and snapping away. Of course, that included me as well!

The parade heads off from the Imperial Palace

It was a grand festival all right, with horses and oxen walking beside people in ceremonial attire. A strikingly beautiful palanquin stood out most of all, with the high priestess Saio riding in it. After walking alongside the parade for a while, I decided to call it quits and head for my next destination.

The Golden and Silver Pavilions, I could only see them through the Windows wallpapers when I lock my computer. They already look magnificent digitally, but seeing them in person is truly a sight to behold.

The Golden Pavilion, Kinkaku-ji

While being surrounded by greenery and a pond, the Kinkaku-ji stands out with its striking gold. Covered in gold leaf for its exteriors, you could see the gold brilliance clearly reflected by the surrounding pond.

While the Ginkaku-ji is not as flamboyant as its golden counterpart, the Silver pavilion offers a dry sand garden with a striped line pattern situated just beside.

Sand garden of Ginkaku-ji

The simplicity of the garden gives off a serene vibe, I felt at ease while looking at the pavilion, also maybe because the crowd here was smaller here compared to Kinkaku-ji. After a few walks around the garden to make my money’s worth (the entrance fee is 500 yen, goodness!) I decided to head towards the most famous structure in Eastern Kyoto: Kiyomizu-dera.

Similar to the two Pavilions, Kiyomizu-dera is widely popular on various mediums. Any travel ad and tour package would feature the temple as one of the main highlights in Japan. Unfortunately the roof of the main hall was under construction when I visited, so the scenery of the whole temple wasn’t as great as before, but at least the main hall was open for visits, so it’s not all that bad.

The temple is located up in the hills, so there’s a arduous 10 minute uphill walk to expect. The walk was not in the slightest boring though, because you’ll be walking through the Higashiyama district, where a whole line of shops and cafes awaits a curious traveler. There were a lot of shops selling Japanese sweets, and a few of them offered samples to shoppers (wouldn’t have known if I wasn’t guided by my veteran friend!). There were samples for matcha tea as well! What a great pit stop in the middle of the district, perfect for a short tea break before continuing further.

At the top of the hill, at the entrance of the temple, the view was simply breathtaking. I could see the entirety of Kyoto all the way to the mountains in the west.

The view atop of the hills, outside Kiyomizu-dera entrance

The crowd here was really huge, probably double the size of Kinkaku-ji crowd. That’s to be expected from the most popular temple in Kyoto, with tourists flocking in to see the temple and the spectacular view.

After a full (scorching) day of temple-hopping, what better way to cool down than to visit an onsen? What I like about Japan, especially Kyoto, is the abundance and convenience of bathhouses, there’s bound to be one around your vicinity (provided you are in an urban area of course).

For the remaining 3 days of my trip, I decided to spend my time leisurely. I spent the late afternoons on an onsen spree, going to popular onsens. In total I visited 4 onsens within these 3 days (maximum health & wellness!) One onsen that left a deep impression on me was Yunessun in Hakone, the place is a water theme park combined with an onsen. Visitors can check out the unique wine/coffee/sake pools and then relax in an onsen, it really is a cool concept, I don’t regret spending half a day there!

Four buckets of coffee ready for splashing people!

Afterthoughts

Honestly, I felt very skeptical about going on an overseas trip all by myself. All the what-ifs fogged my mind, while worrying about safety and the probable loneliness. However, this trip made me realize that a leap of faith into the unknown was the push I needed to understand how enjoyable and exciting journeying solo could be. From the start of the trip planning till the end, it was a phenomenal experience.

The power of the JR pass is limitless

I’m really glad that Japan was my first country to experience solo travelling (not to mention how safe Japan is), definitely would recommend Japan for avid solo-trippers! Writing this journal has spurred me on to plan for my next Japan trip already. If you have any recommendations on where/what to visit in Japan, please do share them with me! Or, if you are planning a trip to Japan yourself and would like some ideas, I’d love to share and discuss my thoughts and experiences!

Special thanks to Nurulhuda, Lee Ming Rui and Wilson for taking their precious time to proofread and provide their valuable inputs!

#japan #hiroshima #kyoto #tokyo #solotrip #travel

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1wngdngl · 4 years

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Pokemon Shield playthrough

I’ve been playing this game a lot since last night, and I still haven’t gotten on the train yet ;) I like to take games slowly to make sure I notice and experience everything along the way. It looks like the best way to share my game progress is through screenshots, so that’s what I’ll do. Cut for length and spoilers - I’ve been trying to avoid spoilers and leaks for the past couple weeks, so if you want to be able to experience the games fresh yourself, now might be a good time to click away. [This post covers up thru getting the Dynamax band]

I went ahead with the “standard” female character, but you can bet I’ll be customizing her as soon as I can. What’s with that knock-kneed stance, anyway? Pokemon trainers should stand strong and confident!

Chairman Rose greets us. Everyone online was guessing he’ll turn out to be evil or something. He certainly looks suspicious, doesn’t he?

And here comes the first surprise of the LP - a brand-new Pokemon, not even seen in trailers! (except for that fuzzy 1-frame image from a while back.) Its trunk looks kinda like a soup ladle. Maybe it’s a play on a teacup/teapot elephant? I wonder if it evolves...

Here’s Leon fighting an unknown trainer - maybe a Gym leader?

I really like the art style of the map - it’s so whimsical :)

The map also shows current weather for all locations. Look at all the different stuff going on in the Wild Area at the same time! I’ve been to the real England, and I don’t remember it having such extreme weather...

The map also has a few useful features, like displaying your next objective, and showing the facilities in a town (but only once you’ve been there yourself). The towns and such all have really interesting names that emulate that old English sound.

First thing I do when I gain control in a new Pokemon game? Change the battle style to “Set”. It seems more fair, plus it helps make the game just a bit more challenging.

I’m a little sad that the old option to change menu/text box borders seems to be forever abandoned, though... >.>

My house. It’s a pretty decent-sized place. We have a pet Munchlax and a few Budew outside. My character practices her whistling.

My mom. Or “mum” as the game calls her. The dialog is noticeably slanted toward a more British dialect - I wonder how they handled the accent in other languages?

Speaking of my mom, she seems rather big compared to me, doesn’t she? Quite a bit taller. I’m guessing my character is around 12 - when I was that age, I was the same height as my mom and done growing. Maybe they think people won’t believe this character is the mom’s child if she’s too tall?

Also, my dream is to one day have a /dad/ in a Pokemon game. Seriously, why does every other house I visit have a husband and wife, and my character is always stuck being the only child of a single parent? What if in one of these games, my dad was the champion or the evil team leader - how fun would that be?

My bedroom. The pink clock on the wall reminds me of one from a previous Pokemon game - was it ORAS that had those round clocks on the wall that you could set?

My first step on my journey. Looks like my mom spends every minute gardening - I guess the Budew help her?

Ah yes, every Pokemon game needs a “power of science” guy :)

Here’s another surprise - how many Pokemon games give you a fishing rod right at the start?! Usually you have to track down three different fisherman to get the three versions of the fishing rod. I’m also happy to see that Pokeballs have their own pocket again :)

The handy map tells us where to go next, with even a little picture of our destination.

The champion of Galar, of course, has a huge house.

Wow, a Purrloin! I forgot that they stood on two legs. I like its little bed.

Also, Leon’s family decorate their house mainly in trophies.

I guess this is Hop’s room - I like his artwork. I know Leon has a Charizard - does he have these other two Pokemon too, and that’s why Hop has posters of them?

Leon’s room is mostly a shrine to hats.

Speaking of Leon, he really knows how to play to the crowd ;)

So, some people are wondering if /Leon/ will turn out to be evil in the story. I didn’t really get that vibe from him. He seems like a genuinely nice guy, but he does seem like he has some worries on his mind, like his cheer is sometimes forced?

Maybe he actually hates the limelight and gets uncomfortable with attention? Maybe he’s secretly terminally ill? Maybe there’s some massive threat about to attack the Galar region? He seems really concerned with making sure that Galar has lots of strong trainers. Maybe he knows something about the legendaries?

Alternately, some people were saying that maybe Leon isn’t actually a great champion, and his fights are rigged in his favor by the chairman. /If/ that were the case, I bet that Leon is actually unhappy with that situation and wants to make the tournament more fair.

Or maybe everything in the game is exactly as it seems ;)

Nothing important here, I just like this screenshot. I wonder if Fletchling are native to Galar too?

My first Pokemon! (in this game, at least...) I picked Sobble because he’s the most endearing.

My first battle! I like how the interface is laid out, and how detailed the background is beyond the fighters - you can even see Leon standing there.

My Pokemon's details. I don’t play competitively so I don’t know if it’s a particular “good” Sobble. It seems like this species is a fast special-attacker, so I’ll have to keep that in mind.

The Slumbering Weald (my spellchecker doesn’t even recognize that word :) ) It’s very spooky and seclusive - and it’s right next to the starter town too! You’d think if it was really that dangerous, people would put up more than a flimsy wooden gate to keep trespassers out...Hop, of course, is an idiot and runs right into it; and I, the spineless protagonist, have no option to say no. >.>

My first wild encounter! This starts the trend I noticed all during the opening hours of this game - most of the wild Pokemon are brand-new, totally-unrevealed species. Like this squirrel thing. (Although some people guessed we would get a new squirrel based on that shirt design). I wonder if it evolves?

This part was actually pretty scary, with the Pokemon (I can’t remember its name...) suddenly appearing out of the fog. The Pokemon acted almost like a hologram in battle though - my attacks couldn’t touch it.

What if the twist is that the legendary wolf Pokemon are just illusions, perhaps even man-made ones created to keep intruders from discovering some secret in the forest?

Anyway, we escape from the situation perfectly fine, because of course we do ;)

I noticed that this particular generation gives you quite of a bit of money at the start, but I guess that’s because you encounter the first boutique so early. There’s a fair number of affordable options too. Some of these Pokemon shirts I wish were /real/ shirts.

My new look :) Mostly I just ditched the dress for jeans. This looks like a comfortable outfit, although that knapsack is a bit unwieldy.

We visit the professor’s lab. She has a lot of books, plants, and a tea set. I wonder if she ever has problems with Polteageist?

The new Pokemon center design. I love that the move deleter/relearner and nickname functions are all in one place - I always hated flying around the map trying to remember where they were.

That Pokemon behind the counter is another totally new one. Could this be a Galarian Audino?

Using mystery gift, I was able to get this “Gigantamax” Meowth. However, due to my rule of only using Gen 8 Pokemon, it’s just gonna chill out in the box >.>

Leon is very generous with Pokeballs. Even the items you find on the ground are generous, often containing 2 or 3 “copies” of an item when you check it out. Is that a new thing for Pokemon?

Here I battle my first trainer that isn’t named Hop. He has that squirrel shirt and is a total pushover.

Just chilling by the professor’s house. It looks like maybe you can only fish in fishing spots (those darker circles on the water), but at least you get your fishing pole right away.

Also, I discovered that while I could not sit on beds or chairs inside, I am able to sit on this bench :)

The way the Pokemon mill about in the tall grass is very interesting. Some will try to avoid you, others like this Yamper will chase after you. It makes the routes feel a lot more populated.

I guess this is Sonia’s room. It’s very pink. I wonder if she even /wants/ to do Pokemon research, or if she’d rather be a fashion designer or something.

The in-game time of day doesn’t seem to match up with the Switch system clock, at least not from what I’ve seen so far. For example, suddenly it is sunset and I catch a falling star. (look how the reflection in the water changes :) )

I haven’t decided yet if I want to buy the Switch online service, but in the meantime I decided to at least pick my profile picture. The icons you can choose from actually reveal quite a lot about the trainer classes and gyms that are in the game. For the first time ever, we have a Dark-type gym! Their logo is a sideways version of Team Yell’s logo - does that mean that Team Yell or Marnie is the Dark gym leader?

I spent a while catching Pokemon around the professor’s house. I can’t tell if I got every possible species without looking online, but I did build up a good roster.

I found it really cool how many new, surprising Pokemon showed up this early in the game. There’s the fox one (which is a Dark type and reminds me of Zoroark), the turtle one (which has got to be a pre-evolution of Dreadnaw, probably the 1st of 3 stages), the bird one (based on the “Rook” in its name and the fact that it learns Dark-type moves early, I’m guessing it’s a pre-evolution of Corviknight), and the bug one (can’t wait to see what its final stage looks like).

I went through the party to find the best Pokemon that fit my self-imposed rules (only new, Gen 8 Pokemon, no overlap of types). I know that this means I won’t be able to use Galarian forms or Gigantamaxes of old Pokemon, but just because I’m not using them in my main playthrough doesn’t mean I can’t catch them :)

Next time: I step onto the train and leave my home behind.

#pokemon #pokemon shield #pokemon gen 8 #let's play #lps

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howwelldoyouknowyourmoon · 5 years

Text

Erica Heftmann breaks free from the control of the FFWPU / UC

Dark Side of the Moonies by Erica Heftmann (Penguin Books 1982)

Erica Heftmann was born in Washington, DC, in 1952. She believed she was born again in 1974 to Korean parents — the Lord of the Second Advent, Reverend Moon, and his wife, Hak Ja Han. She was deprogrammed from the Moon cult and became interested in the issue and power of mind control. In the 1980s, because of her research and expertise in that field, she was in demand as an adviser to mental health professionals, clergy, legislators, educators, legal and medical practitioners, law enforcement agencies, mind control victims and their families throughout the world.

Contents

Part I – Heavenly Deception

Part II – Free Will But No Choice

Part III – Return to Reality

Part IV – From the Outside Looking In

1 The Technology of Mind Control 2 Deprogramming Therapy 3 Judiciary, Legislature and the ‘Cryptocracy’ 4 Critical Judgement

Notes

Dark Side of the Moonies is the disturbing account of one person who gave up her own mind, her whole life to a man she thought was the messiah.

Since her liberation from the Moonies, she has come to understand the power that was used to control her. In revealing the hidden life of one cult, Erica Heftmann exposes the startling force cults are exerting in society – and the grip they have on many people.

I was a Moonie. When I regained my mind and could look back at the horror of it, I realized that my freedom was conditional. I was haunted by the need to understand how and why I had been transformed into what I hated most. Now I would be an ex-Moonie. My innocence would never return. … I had to live with the ignorance and prejudice of a public that believes I was somehow pre-disposed to becoming a cult member while they are immune. People think cults are something to laugh at, groups of religious half-wits who would never have made it in life anyway and are better off where they are. I was there … to further incredible schemes of political and economic power.

I am setting out my story and my explanations of it. I do this for the sake of others who have suffered agonies so profound as to make my cult experience seem like a holiday. I wish that I could bring voice to the countless others... I write this for people under mind control, especially those I love who are mentioned in these pages. Do not be afraid to use your own minds; you need no greater masters.

In this era we are learning about the plight of the handicapped, the minorities, those who have been denied the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. We must learn about all unfortunates because we are responsible for depriving them by our failure to listen, to understand, to allow them the right to help themselves. Those who are able and refuse to help are the true unfortunates. They do not know how precious life is.

Erica Heftmann 1981

page 1

Part I – Heavenly Deception

On the last day of 1974 I nudged my way through the bustle of downtown Los Angeles with a lot on my mind. It wasn’t only taking inventory of the past year. It was the pattern I saw emerging. Breaking away, testing new ground, retreating. Every path led to the same edge and, feeling I couldn’t make it across, I would go back to find another path. I had come to know the edge pretty well.

I was surprised to hear the stories that circulated about me because I considered my life to be too ordinary. My measuring standards were not set by my peers but by the characters that peopled my books and travels.

Adulthood was edging me away from my mother and an older sister I adored. My father and brother had removed themselves from the family during my late childhood but what was left was stable. Mom was always patient, comforting, totally involved in her two girls.

I had a short romance with formal education. After two terms at university I declared myself graduated, having learned everything I felt the institution had to teach me: how to find a book in the library and how to sit down to coffee with an interesting professor.

With full sails and no rudder, I went to Europe taking every precaution not to be a hippie, annoyed that of all the times I could have been born on this planet I had to co-exist with a counter-culture that popularized doing one’s own thing. I picked my way carefully to avoid the throngs of stereotyped individuals who faced me at every turn. …

My mother was not easy to rebel against because I felt she was usually right. How could I break away and establish my own identity if there was no risk involved? She was always there to fall back on, to soften the blows. … Maybe you’ve been on your own for a few years but the world has just been your playground.

Wait a minute. Don’t be that hard on yourself. Someone puts you on a speck of cosmic dust whirling through space without asking your permission and then just as rudely and abruptly and inevitably takes you away. While you’re here you’re given a set of problems and a set of rules for solving them. Like someone leaving a kid to amuse himself with square pegs and round holes. ’Bye kid, see you in eighty or ninety years. No, Erica, I don’t blame you one bit for stepping back to take a look at it all. People are manipulating and killing each other and for what? Do they even enjoy the spoils of their exploits? Why waste your life trying to set things up for them to destroy when you have enough sense to realize that there’s something else in this existence to do?

Lonely, confused and worried about fulfilling my potential, I had escaped the forced gaiety of the office New Year’s party. Everyone making crass jokes about resolutions and getting drunk to forget them.

On the last working day of the year, all the desk calendars in the office buildings were collected and released into the wind from the roofs. They fluttered down like ticker tape. Now as I walked the last couple of blocks to the bus stop, I stared at them cluttering the pavement. Some pages had little notes jotted on them. OCTOBER 15/meet Dave for lunch. Or 2:00/REGIONAL MEETING. Giving in to a wave of melancholy, I couldn’t help but see the metaphor days lying in the gutter, accumulated so quickly and then forgotten.

A big commuter bus moved away from the kerb and blasted a clump of pages into an open drain with its exhaust. So it’s come to this, has it, I tried joking with myself.

I looked up about the same moment that I felt someone gazing at me. A pair of blue eyes much like my own. A young woman just a few paces away was watching me. She was wholesome looking, rather tall, and had a short, dark-haired young man with her.

In my memory, it is etched that I was the one to start the conversation but I know that this is not the way it happened. There was just something so familiar and so welcoming in her eyes that I felt myself reaching out to make the first move.

All I needed for an introduction was to know that they were foreigners. How well I remembered the feeling of being a newcomer to a city and how comforting it was when strangers had stopped and talked with me.

The girl’s name was Ingrid and she was from Switzerland. The one she towered over was Antonio, a Peruvian. I asked how such an unlikely combination had met They explained that they were touring with an organization called International One World Crusade. This was their last stop in America and within a week they would push on to Japan.

Ingrid had spent all of her time in Los Angeles cooped up in the kitchen cooking for the others. On her first opportunity to get out and see the sights, she was delighted to meet someone. They chatted on. Out of the corner of my eye I was searching for a coffee shop we could dive into. I made the suggestion. It was one of those magical meetings that happens when one travels and I could tell the feelings were shared all around. My bus didn’t stop running for a few hours.

‘We’d love to,’ Ingrid said, ‘But we are just on our way back for an evening meeting. Would you like to walk with us? You could see our headquarters office and meet some of the others.’

Something flickered in me, making me want to bolt, no matter how friendly they were. Something about not being on neutral turf. I noticed it at the same time I realized that I was already walking with them in their direction. …

page 187

Part III Return to Reality

Up late this morning. At 6.00 I should already be in the lodge with Paul to correct reflection books. Paul is the best assistant I’ve ever had and this is by far the most successful workshop since the old days with Alex. Yesterday Mr Kadachi gave the VOC lecture so that we could have some time to catch up on our reports but we scrambled up onto the roof of the lodge to talk instead.

I think it is important to develop a good subject-object Foundation for the Abel position we hold collectively. …

Paul is still having Chapter Two problems about his old girlfriend. I am glad he is confiding in me. I remember all the times Kathy and I kept him away from Lisa and occupied when the centres used to come up for weekend workshop. I thought Lisa’s transfer to MFT would solve a lot. They were both trying hard to overcome and by all external appearances they had but now I’m finding out that Paul is entertaining hopes of being blessed with her. It isn’t good to think about the Blessing, especially trying to second-guess Father. Paul keeps insisting that Spirit World prepared them for the Family because they had been sweethearts since high school. . He is suffering so much and so much wants to please Heavenly Father.

We must be a good combination because we’ve been having such fantastic results with our workshops. We work as a unit. Father was right that if you serve someone well enough, you make him dependent on you. He opens up to you and gradually the power shifts its balance point. If you are a good object, it is much more important than being a mediocre subject. …

I have finally learned how to handle sleep. Imagine how much time is wasted in the Fallen World. Midnight is just the beginning of the evening for me. Paul covered for me for fifteen minutes yesterday during discussion and made me sleep. On the way down the hill with the class, he whistled for me when they passed the dorm and I was out the back way and down to the lodge before them. I had only had forty-five minutes of sleep the night before and during the past weeks it has been usually two hours, sometimes three. That fifteen minutes was like a whole night I got up completely refreshed. I think I’ve finally broken through.

I must apologize to Mr Kadachi. I was so upset with him because he slept during the day and pulled staff meetings as late as 3.30 in the morning — never before 2.00. The meetings were late only because he was reading or playing with his lizards. When he had us as a captive audience he would put off staff matters and expound on some recent theory about the Restoration. I contradicted one of his theories and still feel horrible about it but it did bring the meeting to a quick close. No one else would dare stand up to Kadachi-san. …

The day sailed by with its own effortless momentum. In the afternoon I was called into the kitchen for a phone call. Mr Kadachi was pacing. I picked up the receiver.

‘Erica? I was afraid I wouldn’t get through to you. They gave me the usual runaround.’

‘Well, Mom, sometimes I’m busy and can’t get to the phone.’

‘Too busy to take a call from me?’

I rolled my eyes up. How would she like it if I interrupted her at work?

‘I’m here in San Bernardino and I hope you won’t give me some story about being too busy to see me today. We have a date, you know.’

Did we? It seemed that I was always trying to get out of some engagement and I kept postponing these visits with promises. Guess she finally caught up with me. Kadachi was at my side poking around in his lizardarium. I placed my hand over the receiver.

‘She says she’s in San Bernardino and wants to see me today.’

‘You have a workshop to look after. Tell her to make it another time.’

I uncovered the receiver. ‘I have a workshop to look after. Could we make it another time?’

‘Erica, I’ve driven all this way.’ She sounded a bit frantic. ‘Are you going to make me turn around and go back? I’m leaving for New York tomorrow, remember, and I want to see you before I go.’

‘She’s insisting. She says she’s driven all this way and wants to know if I’m going to make her turn around and go back. She’s leaving for New York tomorrow.’

Kadachi gave me a look that revealed nothing and turned back to his lizards. How could I be so weak as to have to bother him and get him to tell me what to do?

‘Look, Ma, I’m going to have to go now. My class is starting.’

Click

I was hardly out the door when the phone rang again. It took three calls before I was reluctantly given permission to go. I wasn’t pressuring either side, they just fought it out with me as the transmitter of information. The condition was that I be back for evening discussion. I wouldn’t have missed that for the world anyway.

By the time she and my step-father Chuck arrived, I was bathed and had styled my hair with a blow-dryer I found in the sisters’ cabin. I also found a ‘good’ set of clothes I’d never seen before. They fit and I looked very nice when I sized myself up in the mirror.

I ran down the steps of the lodge to meet them. The guard at the gate had already informed me of their arrival. After quick hellos I found myself in an argument. I wanted them to come inside and meet my friends. They replied flatly that they were not interested in coming in, only in seeing me.

‘You say you’re interested in what I’m doing. How are you ever going to find out if you don’t see for yourselves? You just keep reading those negative articles.’

They could hardly conceal their discomfort and my mother couldn’t pass the opportunity for some hostile remarks so I decided that it was better to leave right away. Then, at least, I could return earlier. Paul was thrilled about taking over for a while and I was looking forward to the meal so it wasn’t a bad arrangement after all. I told them to wait a moment on the landing. I searched for Kadachi to say goodbye. His wife told me he had locked himself in his room at his cabin. I would probably return before he emerged from his meditation.

I slid in the front seat between my parents and chattered the whole way down the mountain. I told them about Roy’s close scrape with his parents. They had tried to kidnap him but he escaped. He was sorry for hurting his father in the tussle on the ground but not sorry enough to speak with them. I usually handled Roy’s calls. They simply would not understand that he had been transferred. They thought we were hiding him. No one at camp even knew where he had been transferred to.

‘Imagine parents trying to do something like that to their own child!’ I gasped.

Chuck dropped us off at a small restaurant in town while he went to see about getting something fixed on the car. I ordered a large meal and wolfed it down. Mom didn’t touch what she had ordered. She said that she was coming down with flu and had lost her appetite. If my stomach had been able to stretch, I would’ve eaten her meal as well. We didn’t talk much. These days we had little in common. I couldn’t see the point in pretending to be interested in the Fallen World and she refused to take an interest in the Restoration. She kept glancing at her watch, obviously worried about Chuck taking so long.

When he arrived, he said he wasn’t hungry either and they wanted to beat the traffic back to town. They still had to pack for their trip. He hastily paid the bill and we went out to the car. The lot was dark and the car was at the rear of the building. I instinctively sized up the lot for fundraising. Hard habit to get over. Good thing I was going back to camp instead of out blitzing.

I was grabbed from behind and thrown forward. It happened so quickly that I was in the back seat between Chuck and a strange man before I caught my breath. My mind jammed. My mother was in the driver’s seat revving the engine and another person sat in the front seat on the passenger’s side. We took off as the doors were being pulled closed.

It was several moments before I could speak. My mind snapped into the witnessing mode. I politely extended my hand to the man on my right to introduce myself.

‘How do you do? My name is Erica.’

He reached under the seat and brought out a bouquet of flowers. Presenting them, he said, ‘Very well, thanks. My name is Dana. Here, these are for you.’

Dana! I couldn’t believe it. Dana Stevens? It must have been ten years since I’d seen him — he’d been living in Paris for that long. He was a dear friend of the family, someone I had been infatuated with as a child. Mom had told me that he had come back a few weeks before to get married.

I could not recognize him in the dark but there was no mistaking his style. I looked at the person in the front seat. A woman. She must be his new wife.

‘Mrs Stevens, do you mind if I embrace your husband?’ I threw my arms around Dana’s neck. It was totally unprincipled but my mind was jilted and I was too happy to see him to care about Principle for that moment.

My mother had the wheel gripped firmly. ‘I’m sorry, Erica. You didn’t show up at Dana’s wedding so we’re going to have another reception party now just for you.’ I believed her even though I still felt a panic. I had no time to be part of a practical joke. They would worry back at camp, especially Kadachi. I pleaded for her to stop and let me phone them at least. My mother could always out-insist me, especially when I became hysterical. I thought of leaping from the car, disregarding the danger, but I was flanked by two strong men. Roy had told everyone to carry matches with them so they could set fire to the place if anyone ever took them by force. A lot of good that would have done me. I was no longer in the mood for conversation and numbly rode the rest of the way in silence. My mind was blank as if I had been unplugged.

We pulled off the freeway somewhere in Long Beach and, after circling around some residential streets, pulled up at a modest house with several cars parked in the driveway. They surrounded me on the few steps into the house and then, with some other people, formed a corridor so that I had no choice but to go past them to the rear of the house. I didn’t know how many people were in the house or who they were. It didn’t look like a party.

I entered a small bedroom at the end of the hall. The room was tiny, carpeted and bare except for a blanket and a pillow. There was a piece of plywood covering the one small window. Through my mind flashed the story of The Collector. It was clear to me that I was going to be held prisoner for someone’s pleasure but I had no idea for what purpose.

The sight of the blanket and pillow made my heart stop. I knew this was the end of the line. When I looked up I saw half a dozen strangers standing around me. The door was shut. It was explained to me that I would have to speak with these people. Disbelief clogged my mind. They wanted to talk to me about the Movement. How could they talk to me about something they knew nothing about? I understood then that I would stay in that room until I converted them all or died — there would be no way to escape unless I could befriend one of them and gain sympathy to be set free. I wondered how that tiny room would look after the first year. I would know every crack on the ceiling, every sound from the outside. I looked for Dana. Surely he would help.

‘Can I see Dana please?’

‘I’ll see if I can find him for you. In the meantime, why don’t you make yourself comfortable?’ It was a woman who spoke. She was thirty-ish, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. She looked nervous, which gave me confidence. She left the room and two or three of the others trailed out with her.

Dana appeared at the door. His shirt was unbuttoned and he had a beer in his hand. He looked at me with mild surprise as if he couldn’t fathom why I might want to speak with him.

‘Dana, what do you think you’re going to prove with this? I’m going to be missed at camp by people who care about me. What sort of a kangaroo court do you intend to hold? You’re holding me prisoner. You can’t do that.’

Spectacularly unimpressed with my plea to his sense of justice, he suppressed a belch and scratched his chest. ‘I’m not the one who made the decision, you know. Your mother wants you here. It can’t hurt to listen.’

‘Listen? Under these conditions? Why didn’t you just arrange to have these people, whoever they are, come and meet me in a coffee shop somewhere? I would discuss anything with anyone at any time. That’s my job.’

‘Well, your anywhere and anytime and anyone seems to be here and now with these folks, doesn’t it?’

The years had changed him. I remembered the late-night talks, how, he had made my head spin with his unconventional ideas. He was the one who first infected me with the idea of breaking free. Now he had sold out like the rest of them, even getting a beer belly. There would be no point in talking to my mother. I knew how she was once she made up her mind about something. I asked to see Chuck. I knew he would not be able to conceal anything. His face always gave him away. He had always listened to my ideas with endless patience and took my troubles to heart. He supported and nurtured my individualism with pride, even the things that must have been hard to swallow. Surely he would understand me now. Yet when he came in and sat in the same place that Dana had been sitting, I wondered if I was going to come up against the same stone wall. Maybe they had some kind of routine worked out. We were no longer on the same team. God had divided us.

He didn’t give me the chance to wonder long. He took me in his arms. ‘We had to do this, honey.’ His voice broke and he cried, unable to speak for a while. ‘It’s a horrible thing to have to see you here like this. We want you to be free. I know that’s a hard thing to understand, that we’ve locked you up to free your mind. We wouldn’t be doing this if we didn’t love you. All we want you to do is to listen to these people. They’re good people, honey, don’t be afraid. You know your mom would never let anyone hurt you. That’s why she wants you away from that group. We miss our girl — the one who’s so free, the one who was never afraid to stand up for what she believed.’

Now it was my turn to force back the tears so I could speak.

‘Will you stay with me?’ I was terrified of the thought of them leaving the next day for New York.

‘Of course we’ll stay with you.’ It was my mother. She must have been listening at the door. I didn’t hear her come in.

‘You aren’t going to New York?’

‘No, that was just a story to get you to come with us. We were so afraid that you would cancel again and now that we brought Sara out here —’

‘Sara? Is she that lady? The one in the shorts.’

My mother held a handkerchief for me to blow my nose as she had done when I was a child. ‘Now the other side, blow hard, you can do better than that.’ I laughed through the tears until Sara walked in with some others and my panic returned.

I decided to size up my captors. Mom and Chuck left the room. The others sat around me in a semi-circle. Danny had been in the Children of God. He said he’d been deprogrammed by Sara.

Doug had been in the Family. As soon as I learned this I tried to see the brother in him. Sometimes he revealed it but he had been in the Fallen World too long. The brother in him was only a flicker. Perhaps he would be the one I would befriend if I could convince him of Principle. He could help me escape back to Father. Would that make him my spiritual son? He did not want to talk about his spiritual parents or his missions. He said they were not important. What else could there be to talk about if we were going to talk about the Family?

Jill had been in the Family too, but not long enough to know very much.

I didn’t know quite what to make of Sara. She seemed to try to blend into the background and quite succeeded — all but those eyes of hers. Every time she caught my glance she pinned me to the spot.

Something was rattling around loose in my mind trying to find where it belonged. Maybe my whole mind was rattling around loose. I felt fatalistic — the controls were jammed on automatic pilot I felt almost... well, sportive, gay... having the burden of the destiny of mankind lifted from me temporarily. The ball was for once in somebody else’s court. A funny thought lifted the corners of my mouth. Old girl, you only get kidnapped once in life, that is, unless you’re terribly unlucky. You may as well have a good time. After all, you’ve got a captive audience.

I made myself comfortable. ‘It looks like we’ll be here for a while,’ I remarked breezily. ‘If you want to do your job properly, you’ll need some background information on me. I guess I’d better tell you about myself.’

Danny stretched out and groaned, then unclasped his hands from behind his neck and drew himself up on one elbow. ‘The only thing we need to know about you is already obvious. You’re brainwashed.’

‘You watch too many movies. Who do you think you are, Clint Eastwood? Where did you get this brainwashing stuff?’

‘Well, Queen-for-a-Day, what happened to your humility, love, understanding for mankind and all of that? If you were a real disciple of Christ, you’d be praying for me and setting a good example. I guess your dignity and integrity only work when you’re plugged into your little messiah.’

Doug shot him a look to keep quiet. Interesting. They were not united so I was bound to triumph. First rule of Principle. Unity forms the Foundation. I had the knowledge of Principle on my side, they had nothing, not even unity. Evidently Doug remembered something of it in trying to keep Danny in line.

Danny rolled onto his back and addressed the ceiling. ‘All right, go ahead and give us your testimony. I probably know it word-for-word already. I’ve heard enough of them and they’re all the same. Don’t tell me, let me guess — you went to India, came back and read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, had an abortion, became a militant feminist —’

Doug cut in, ‘Don’t mind him. Sure, I want to hear your story. It’s hard to be a Moonie. You wouldn’t be where you are unless you were a good person but don’t tell me that you joined because you realized it was the truth. None of us joined because we understood what they were teaching us.’

I began my story. To my surprise, it didn’t come out like I had planned it. It wasn’t my usual testimony. I told them about my life before, about the things I had loved and believed, things I had forgotten until then. I must have talked for two hours. Sara was pacing outside. Jill left for a while and when she came back in she asked me if I wanted anything to eat.

‘No thanks,’ I answered. ‘I had dinner with my mother.’ My mind drifted back to the camp for a moment. It seemed universes away. I wondered where I was. Whose house was this?

‘Is this Sara’s house?’

‘No,’ Jill answered. ‘It belongs to a woman named Alice.’

‘Can I see her?’

A woman was brought to the door. She hesitated before coming in. She was a friendly looking, middle-aged lady, the kind I’d seen by the hundreds on the lots, motherly, middle-class. I thanked her for letting us use her house. It seemed to me that it must have been a great inconvenience to have so many people in her home for such a long time. I indicated the boarded window. I was sorry for my being the cause of her house being turned upside-down. Tears formed in her eyes.

‘Honey, your parents love you very much. Everyone here is very concerned for you. We all want the best for you. Everything will turn out all right.’ She hesitated and phrased her question shyly. Jill says that you don’t want anything to eat. Can I bring you something else? Something to drink? How about a glass of warm milk?’

Warm milk, yech. I always hated it and gagged on it but I didn’t want to refuse her hospitality. For her sake I gratefully accepted. I was glad I did when I saw the look on her face. She couldn’t have been more happy if I’d given her a million dollars.

While she was fetching the milk, the conversation turned away from me and the kids talked among themselves. I couldn’t hate them. I wished that I could have joined in the conversation but it was as if they were speaking another language, things I hadn’t any knowledge of. Danny was sprawled out comfortably. Jill was teasing him and heaved the pillow at him. He propped himself up with it and turned to me.

‘So, this Moon is the messiah, eh?’

The devil himself couldn’t have been more satanic. What a way to talk about Father! It slashed my heart to hear him referred to as ‘Moon’. I would have to educate this guy if we were going to be able to talk at all. He would have to learn to call him Reverend Moon.

‘History will show if he is the messiah or not Reverend Moon has —’

‘I know, he has the potential of becoming the messiah but now he is in the John the Baptist position. I’ve heard it all before. Why don’t you just come out and say it. It will save us a good twenty-four hours. Don’t give me all the PR lines. I know you believe he’s the messiah.’

‘Well, I have to define what messiah means.’

‘Yeah, he has to be born in Korea between certain years — where’d you get all this information anyway? I could tell you that the messiah has to be 5’5”, have blue eyes and be born in Los Angeles in 1952. How’s that grab ya?’

‘God has revealed certain things to me.’

‘What’d He do, call you on the phone?’

‘Don’t you believe in God?’

‘Don’t try to get off the subject by attacking me. Yes, I believe in God but my God doesn’t go around talking to me. Just answer a simple question: did God call you on the phone?’

‘Don’t be absurd.’

‘Does that mean no?’

‘No, God did not call me on the phone. There, are you satisfied?’

‘Did He send you a telegram?’

Doug broke in. ‘What he means is how does God communicate with you. You said that God revealed certain things to you. How did you receive them?’

How did I receive them? I just knew. ‘I just knew.’

‘Maybe you just knew wrong?’

‘Divine Principle clearly outlines the qualifications for the messiah.’

‘Great, who wrote the Divine Principle?’

‘It was revealed by God.’

Doug looked at Danny. ‘You getting dizzy yet? I told you the Moonies have everything tied up and you can go round and round for ages without getting anywhere.’

Danny sat up and looked at me. ‘It’s no different than my group. We believed our leader was the end-time prophet Why? Because his doctrine said so. I thought God revealed it to me too.’

‘Well, you were misled. Divine Principle talks about that. You were in a cult’

‘And you are in one.’

Alice came in with the milk and my mother trailed in after her.

‘Are you getting sleepy? I brought you some things to sleep in.’ She produced a nightgown and slippers. My eyes popped out of my head. A nightgown no one had worn before. It was so beautiful, so elegant, and slippers. I couldn’t wait to put them on.

‘Where can I change?’ Surely I wasn’t expected to change in front of the men. I had heard that men in deprogrammings humiliated and raped sisters.

Danny and Doug stood to leave.

‘Good-night, Brothers.’

Doug said good-night but Danny couldn’t resist getting in one last little dig. ‘In case you didn’t know, we are not biologically related. Brothers is also not a common slang term — it’s a Moonie word. The sooner you stop talking like a Moonie, the sooner you’ll stop thinking like one. Do me a favour, hey? Every time you use a Moonie word and I stop you, try substituting an English word.’

‘Okay, good-night, Clint Eastwood. How’s that?’

He tossed the pillow at me.

Sara and I were alone. She was cautious but wanted to know how I felt, what I needed, what my fears and anticipations were. There was nothing about her or any of the others that would cause me to distrust them. I could see that they were sweet and honest people, just misled and being used by satanic forces. Mostly, my mind was on sleep. The opportunity to sleep away from masses of people, in clean bedding, in a quiet house, in my own nightdress, close to my parents — it was too much of a luxury to put off.

Sara asked if I would mind if she and Jill slept in the room with me. I laughed. Would I mind having only two sisters in the room with me? I was under the covers in a flash and the light was turned out. They left the door ajar. They were going to sit in the kitchen for a while and come to sleep later. Mom came in to say good-night. I made her promise me one last time that she would not leave for New York that she would be there when I awoke in the morning. I don’t remember if she left before I fell asleep.

With the window boarded over and no sunlight, I had no idea what time it was. By habit, I was completely awake. From totally off to totally on in a millisecond. I tried to fall asleep again but it was useless. I’d have to get up sometime and face the music. This was Sunday. I had probably missed Pledge. I couldn’t muster my thoughts to say a proper Pledge but I started in on a short prayer. Security and anxiety were marbled in my heart As long as we talked about Principle, I would be safe. They were not united and they did not have God’s truth. There was no way they could harm me. It would just be a matter of time. Sara came in.

‘Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to wake you. I just came in to find my brush.’

‘It’s okay, I just woke up before you came in. What time is it anyway?’

‘Ten o’clock. Bet you’ve never had such a good sleep in the cult.’

Cult! That word hurled frustration, fear and anger at me. I stood up quickly and began to fold my bedding.

‘You want to take a shower?’

‘Yes, thank you. If I may.’

Sara showed me across the hall. What a luxurious bathroom. I felt like a princess. A fresh set of towels were set out for me and everything was spotless. A new toothbrush and a new tube of toothpaste, a hairbrush, even some cosmetics. I turned the shower on full blast. Sara yelled through the door.

‘There’s plenty of hot water. Let’s forget about the cold shower conditions, okay?’

‘Okay!’ How did she know about conditions? She obviously didn’t know very much. I couldn’t set a condition without clearing it with a central figure anyway. I stepped into the shower. Ah, I would have a hard time stepping out again. I watched the steam escape through a small window. I remembered in The Collector that the woman had thrown a note out the window in hopes that someone would pass by and read it. Maybe I could do that. But what good would it do? I was in the Fallen World now. Even if I could squeeze out the window and run away, to the police maybe, they’d just bring me back here. In Satan’s world who would help a Family member? I would have to work it another way. I didn’t have enough mental power to consider the future anyway. It was all I could do to concentrate on the present I was being bombarded with new-old sensations, the things in the bathroom, the cleanliness, the newness, the freshness, the comfort and security. I was reluctant to turn off the shower. My mother came in and talked to me through the shower door. She wanted to know if I needed shampoo or anything else. If nothing else, it was overwhelming to be with her in circumstances that seemed so normal. It was like being on holiday. Maybe I could postpone the inevitable confrontation. I felt a surge of energy and wanted to crow with pleasure. Sleeping until ten o’clock!

Mom brought me some clothes to change into, a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. It felt deliciously wonderful and forbidden to wear them. I asked permission to keep the slippers on. She gave me a queer look

The bedding was put away and the room was bare again but for one blanket and a pillow. As I dried my hair with a towel, Danny asked me what I wanted for breakfast. I wasn’t in the mood for eating. We decided on coffee.

He brought it in and went out again for his Bible. Doug carried in a small case of papers. They wanted to talk about fundraising. Fair enough. Doug had been on MFT. I couldn’t understand why he asked me questions he already knew the answers to — questions about the Economic Restoration. It was as boring as giving lecture to answer him.

They couldn’t do anything to dislodge the truth. After all, they had nothing better to offer. Nothing better than beer, cigarettes, divorce — the Fallen World. I remembered how Larry had told me that even if God did not exist and if Father wasn’t the messiah, the gathering of dedicated people giving endlessly of themselves was bound to be the best thing yet.

‘Why do you lie on the streets when you beg money from people?’ Sara entered into our discussion.

‘I don’t lie. I never did. Lie about what?’

‘Lie about where the money was going.’

‘Everyone knew I was from the Unification Church. We even wore —’

‘— badges issued by President Salonen,’ Doug. ‘But most people didn’t understand that you were a Moonie. If they ask you outright if you are raising money for Reverend Moon, you deny it, don’t you?’

‘Never! I’m proud of Father. Why would I conceal the truth?’

‘You lied to Tom Evans.’ Now my mother. Okay, I made a sales pitch in the gallery of someone who worked with my mother and by the time I realized who he was I couldn’t retract what I had said.

‘Okay, so I lied once.’

‘Once!’ Everyone cried out in unison.

I was not hurt for myself. I was trying to shield Father from their attack. Nothing they could say or do to me would worry me, but they must not blaspheme.

Sara said, You don’t even know when you’re lying and when you’re not. You weren’t like that before. Somebody taught you a little trick called Heavenly Deception.’ Danny chimed in, Yeah, we did the same thing in the Children of God but we called it Spoiling Egypt.’

Sara continued ‘And in Scientology they call it Fair Game and in the Divine Light Mission they call it something else and I call it a con game. How could you tell people the truth about where the money was going when you don’t even know yourself? What about your little 40-day condition that was extended? Where did that money go?’

How did she know about that? I told her what I had found out. The money went to buy some land.

‘That land was already paid for, honey. The money you raised went straight into Moon’s pocket for some little private business deals. Wake up, Erica, you’ve been had.’

I turned to Doug. ‘You know the importance of fundraising. It is to pay indemnity. We have to restore tribal, national and other levels.’

Doug turned to his case of papers and fished out a page from Master Speaks. He read to me from it that Father said all of that indemnity was paid already. I demanded to see the page. Master Speaks. The first thing that hit me seeing it was the format of the page. The familiarity of it energized me. He snatched it back.

‘Don’t space out on me. I know you are visually programmed. The sight of the thing reinforces your programming. Just read these lines.’

I read them. How did I know the paper wasn’t a forgery. ‘Mother, how could you want me to believe people as low as these. Look at Sara. Look at the way she’s dressed, the way she speaks.’ Sara stiffened.

‘Please don’t smoke in front of me either,’ I demanded. How satanic to fill the room with smoke. She didn’t say a word, just stubbed out her cigarette and put the ashtray outside the door.

‘I won’t smoke in front of you if it bothers you but I’ll tell you this, you spoiled brat, it’s not the smoke that bothers you. It’s this holier-than-thou little goodie-two-shoes routine of yours. Why don’t you come back down to earth with the rest of us mortals. You can’t even answer simple questions. How thin your perfection is when you’re outside your self-centred cult. You think you’ve become more God-like? Is God so arrogant? You think you’re saving the world with Moon’s money? What do you know about responsibility? Do you tend the sick, the poor, do you ever pay income tax?’

‘I’m a missionary without income. I have nothing to pay tax on.’

‘Maybe, but you have to file every year with the government anyway. When was the last time you filed?’

‘Okay, so I didn’t file last year, big deal.’

The morning dragged on. They kept talking from man’s point-of-view. I kept talking from God’s point-of-view.

We broke for lunch and, while we ate at least, the crew eased up on me. As soon as I put my plate down, Danny looked over at me through narrowed eyes.

‘So, Moon’s still the messiah, huh?’

I had to fight to keep the food from coming back up. There was just no point going on like this. We could discuss until Satan’s restoration and they still wouldn’t make sense.

‘You can say what you want but you’ll never make me lose my love for Father.’

‘Erica, when we point things out, just assess them as they are, at face value. If the Bible says one thing and Doctrine X contradicts it, then that doctrine is wrong if it claims to be harmonious with the Bible. You click off when anything threatens Moon. You have no ego, no mind of your own. You’ve got two possibilities: a) Moon is the messiah, b) Moon is not the messiah. If it helps you, let’s not say Moon, we’ll say Mr X instead. Now, he’s either the messiah or he’s not. He can’t sort of be the messiah, agreed?’

It took us a long time to get on equal footing. Finally he got me to accept, for the sake of argument, the hypothetical.

‘If he is the messiah, we can all pack up and go home. If he’s not the messiah and has claimed to be, then what is he?’

I couldn’t fill in the blank.

‘If he’s not the messiah and he’s claimed to be, then he’s a fraud. Now, how can we determine if he is or not? Glad you asked that question, folks. Let’s make it really easy on him and not even use the acid test. We’ll just let him cut his own throat. He says that God is eternal, absolute and unchanging, further that he is the second Christ. It follows, seeing as God doesn’t change His mind, Moon must jive with what the first Christ said about Christ’s mission.’

This was not so difficult to accept as the initial point. Once he got rolling, I could follow him after a fashion. As soon as he pulled out the Bible to substantiate what he said, to prove that Jesus and Father did not agree, I was hopelessly lost again. Every time he made a point, I would do a quick scan through Purpose/Fall/Restoration.

I was aware of the binary functioning of my brain. Each question entered and was shuffled off down yes/no corridors until it met the proper answer or a dead end. Something like a pinball machine. I worked the flippers like mad but the balls just rolled down the chute. Danny would send the ball shooting out again and I made the same scan through Principle with the same result. Sometimes a phantom answer would appear but it would vanish either before or after the question passed through. I couldn’t hold both a question that didn’t compute and a phantom answer that didn’t compute. One of them faded as I concentrated on the other.

Danny was well versed in the Bible. If only Kadachi or Alex could have been with me. Surely they would know the answers. There had to be Divine Principle reasons why the Bible was wrong, I just didn’t know them. After a while my attention scattered. When we talked about the Family, I felt my mind become agile again but as soon as Danny started up with his Bible, my brain felt like cotton and my eyelids started to droop.

Some people came in the room quietly like they were entering a theatre after the show had started. I felt like I was on the operating table in an arena for medical students. Bright lights and someone saying, ‘Here we see the soul exposed, badly lacerated. The heart is bleeding and the mind is twisted. Some of this will be corrected through surgery but the patient will probably never be healthy again.’

One of the visitors, a middle-aged man with a kind face picked up Danny’s Bible and leafed through it. I braced myself for a raging born-again argument ‘You believe you’re doing God’s will, don’t you?’ Probably next he was going to ask me if I knew God’s will by telephone or telegram. I set my jaw. It’s too long a story to explain — if I told you that I know God when I see Father, you’d never understand.

‘You’d do whatever Moon asked you to, wouldn’t you?’ ‘He would never ask me to do anything that was not the will of God.’

‘What if he asked you to kill your mother?’

‘ — ’

‘Why don’t you answer me?’

‘ — ’

‘Forget about answering that question. Your silence tells me what I really wanted to know: you actually have to sit and think about whether or not you’d kill your mother if a man told you to. A man, Erica, not a god, and you are under his control.’

He snatched up the Bible. The sound of the turning pages was like trees falling in the forest.

‘“If anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for his own family, he has disowned the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.” The Bible says to help the poor, to help other people. Jesus didn’t tell his followers to give Him their possessions. He told them to distribute them among the needy. Do you believe that is a good thing to do?’

I nodded.

‘Well, then, that makes you better than True Father, doesn’t it? You want to give to the poor and your messiah only wants to take everything for himself.’

I was too weary to begin to explain to him the meaning of the Economic Restoration. When Jesus was on earth, it was the mission of the messiah to serve mankind. For the Second Coming, it became the duty of mankind to serve the messiah.

He wouldn’t let go of that point. That makes you a better person than your Master of the Universe, doesn’t it?

‘You have more compassion than he does. You don’t see anything wrong with him keeping everything for himself?’

I thought back to Father’s visit that had left me so desolated. I remembered that the brothers and sisters from the centres drove through the night to get back to their centres and sleep only an hour or two before having to drive back for Father’s morning address. Meanwhile, Father was sleeping in silk sheets. He could have at least let them sleep in the garage. One driver fell asleep and his van had gotten into an accident.

I began to cry. The man holding the Bible was looking at me waiting for an answer. I couldn’t speak. He put the Bible down and cradled me. So long I had been giving, giving, giving everything I had. He rocked me gently and whispered, ‘Don’t worry, baby, we’re right here. Don’t be afraid. We’re all going to see you through this, doll.’ He didn’t try to hush me, he just let me cry. I tried picturing True Father in my mind but I could not see him comforting me like this. I couldn’t believe that even in the Spirit World he was beside me. All I knew was the here-and-now of things and their realness. Fear gripped me — so this is how Satan would win me — with confusion, with trying to soften the warrior in me.

I heard myself make the man promise he would come back the following day. When he went to the door, I got up and extended my hand, Moonie-style, to shake hands with him. He grabbed me in a bear hug and ruffled my hair, ‘You’re gonna be all right, kid.’

With the others, discussions went on without either side gaining. I retreated under the blanket. Only my head showed, propped on the pillow. Doug and Sara and Jill continued. They would go through a point and ask me to clarify my side of it. I had just not studied enough, not read enough Master Speaks. There were answers to these things but I did not know them. The things they asked me didn’t matter. I believed in Father.

Sara asked me, ‘What I want to know is why you need so much proof to get out of the group. Lord knows you didn’t need any proof to get into it If I ask you if two plus two is five, do you need to look it up? No! You just use the common sense you had as a child. So why, if I show you things that don’t add up by Moon’s system, can’t you see it?’

Danny came over and ripped the blanket off me. ‘It’s the dead of summer, you know. The rest of us are sweating. What are you, a foetus? Sit up and join the human race.’

I grabbed the corner of the blanket and we each tugged our end of it. ‘Well, I see you have enough strength to fight for your baby blanket, don’t you have enough strength to fight for your mind? We’ve been sitting here hour after hour force-feeding you. Where’s your interest? Some disciple you are. Let’s assume that Moon is the messiah and we’re satanic. Don’t you have a lot to learn from us? You should be picking our brains for all we’ve got, go back to your cult and show them the blueprint of the opposition. You’re a lousy Moonie, I’ll say, and you’re not much of a human being. Your brain doesn’t work. We ask a simple question and you either space out or tell us something Moon said. I think we might as well just cover you up with this blanket and stick you six feet under, babe.’

He smiled. ‘But it’d be a shame, ’cause I know you’re in there, somewhere. I know because I’ve been through it. I’m only tough on you because someone’s gotta do it, otherwise we’d sit here playing games. Honest, I’m really a decent guy.’ We both started laughing. ‘We drew straws to see who would play the part of the heavie. Doug and I were arguing about it, weren’t we bro? We both accused the other of getting the part last time. I’ll tell you what, you think he’s sweet? He can be a worse son-of-a-bitch than I.’ That was signal for them to start rough-housing. We all needed a break. I went to the bathroom.

I closed the bathroom door. I’d had chances to be alone for a few moments like this in the Family but it wasn’t the same. I was never alone-alone. I looked at myself in the mirror, something I so rarely did that I knew Father’s face better than I knew my own. I noticed my locket. It had been given to me by Maria and was engraved: ITPN. In True Parents’ Name. Kadachi-san explained to me that it was blasphemy to abbreviate Parents’ name even in that much-used phrase that we signed our letters with. I wore it with some embarrassment but refused to take it off because it was given to me by my spiritual child. Maria got kicked out of the Family. Dr Baum ordered me not to talk to her anymore, even when she called up desperate to be allowed back into the Family. She was so exhausted after Yankee Stadium that she had stayed in bed for three days and Dr Baum turned her out for a problem of attitude. It tore me in two to have to refuse to come to the telephone when she called up pleading.

I unlocked the chain. That same chain had once held the cross given to me by Father Peter. Reverend Kropf made me remove it because the cross was a symbol of Satan’s victory. Inside the locket were pictures of Father and Mother. I looked at them.

I had heard that deprogrammers were likely to deface pictures of Parents and nothing could be worse, but I liked them all — even, perhaps especially, Danny. Deprogrammers could torture brothers and sisters but we had to protect Parents to the death. I removed the pictures and swallowed them to save them from harm. Everything was out of focus in my mind. As we talked in the room, the obvious Principle answers were in my mind. They were my mind. But at some point, I don’t know when, a second answer started to appear, a phantom that would hover and then disappear like the tiny stars you can only see if you look slightly away from them. The two answers would passively cancel one another and only the question would remain until I could no longer remember it. I looked at the locket in my hand. I was of two minds, two hearts. It seemed a millstone around my neck. I left it on the toilet tank.

‘Let’s talk about this messiah of yours,’ Sara. ‘Do you know anything about his past?’

I did. He had seen Jesus when he was sixteen, had been in prison before he began his ministry.

‘Did you know that the university where he claims to have gotten a degree in electrical engineering has no record of him? No record by either name. His real name isn’t Sun Myung Moon, you know. He changed it from a name that means shining dragon — sounds more like the Beast than the messiah. He’s been married before, arrested for indecent acts. He’s a common thug, a businessman, a criminal. He’s a pimp and he’s got kids like you out on the street hustling for him. He even claims to be a Jew, doesn’t he?’

‘Well, a descendant of the House of David. I guess that would make him a Jew.’

‘Funny since he claims that the Orientals are descendants of Japheth and the Jews of Shem. How do you feel about him saying that the six million who died under Hitler died because it was God’s will. This coming from a Jew.’

‘You answer that yourself. You’re the guys who claim to have all the answers.’

‘Sit up,’ Sara urged. ‘Come on, don’t cop out now. You should be defending your faith. There’s nothing wrong with thinking about things. Think! If you’re trying to find the answer in the DP, you won’t find it because the answer is just not there. Two and two will never equal five.’

My mind was elsewhere. I looked at the stack of papers. The reverse of an article we had just read was on the top of the heap. It showed a reproduction of a painting of Jesus on the cross. It was exquisite. It reminded me of the fresco I used to study in the Greek Orthodox cathedral Jesus of infinite tenderness and dignity, Jesus who by His deeds gave meaning to life. Across the stack on another part of the floor was a picture of Reverend Moon. His pudgy, glistening face peered up at me. My eyes went from one to the other, from Jesus to Reverend Moon and back again.

Sara and the others seemed at a standstill. Sara picked up the Bible and leafed through it. She stopped at a page in Genesis and handed the book to me. ‘Read that. Start with Genesis 2:24.’

I read aloud: ‘Therefore a man leaves his father and his mother and cleaves to his wife, and they become one flesh. And the man and his wife were both naked and were not ashamed. Now the serpent was more subtle than any other —’

‘Stop right there,’ said Sara.

I looked up at her.

‘Don’t you see it? Adam and Eve were husband and wife before the Fall, not brother and sister; husband and wife, one flesh. They did not fall because they had sex before becoming perfect. And further, Lucifer fell before them because it says that Eve was tempted by a serpent, not the Archangel.’

I looked back at the page. My vision sharpened with an almost audible click. My face burned, my blood was pounding through my body. I looked back up at her. Sara was waiting.

What happened next happened clearly, frame by frame, but was all contained in a split second.

What was spectacular was not the question nor the answer but a total sensation that I had to acknowledge and identify. Doubt, I called it. Doubt. Perhaps I could entertain the possibility that what they were saying was true. I felt myself peering over a cliff. The abyss was so without light and without bottom that the shock weakened me. I feared I would fall and equally feared remaining on the edge. But no sooner did the shock seize me than I found myself on the opposite side.

The split second came as I was handing the Bible back to Sara. ‘Well, then, what was the Fall?’

‘I’ll tell you my interpretation but there are many. Everyone in this house would tell you something different and some don’t even have an opinion or couldn’t care less. That’s all okay. That’s what life’s about.’

It never occurred to me that people could have different opinions or no opinion at all. I was sure that these people would try to destroy the Divine Principle and then unveil their truth. Subconsciously, I must have believed that it would be the antithesis of goodness and that ... what a totally astounding idea that I could choose what I wanted to believe. This last idea came as Sara explained that there was no rush on truth, that I would have the rest of my life to think about things. Still, most of my mind believed that the non-Family force had the scoop on the Fall.

Sara handed me back the Bible and pointed to Genesis 3:5. It read: ‘For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.’

She stated simply, ‘If you are tempted to place yourself in the throne of power you lose your innocence and you learn the true nature of good and evil.’

At dinner-time my face was still burning. The message came in from the kitchen to find out what I wanted to drink with dinner – milk, juice, water, coke.

‘Make it a gin and tonic.’

‘Getta load of her,’ Danny nudged Doug. ‘Queen-for-a-Day is having herself a drink. Hey, no drinking on the job.’

‘Well then, we’ll take a break — and while we’re at it we can call a truce until dinner’s over. What do you say? I won’t call you Clint Eastwood and you won’t ask me if Reverend Moon is the messiah.’

I felt frisky and in a mood for celebrating something but I had nothing to celebrate. I didn’t want to cope with anything. I concentrated on my dinner.

‘Compliments to the chef!’ I called out. ‘Must’ve been you, Mom, no one cooks like you.’

Different sensations were rushing me, things I’d never known could be sensations — like spontaneity. Not checking the catalogue in my brain before or after a thought or action. Sara sat next to me with her plate.

‘Yeah, your mom is a great cook. I’ll tell you, she’s a great lady. Sure it was easy for you to make the choice between your family and the cult because you never lose your family so it’s not a real choice. You can cut them off, mistreat them, but they always love you. Moon wouldn’t know you if he tripped over you. You couldn’t get through to him on the phone now if you wanted him to come and rescue you. But your real parents? They’d go through anything to rescue you and believe me, they already have. I know you couldn’t have looked your mother in the face and told her that Mrs Moon is your True Mother. You’ve got a lot to learn about parenthood. You know how Moon is always saying that his members are more loving than anyone else and they have ‘Parental Heart’ — honey, you could never fathom what real caring is. You’ve been in a make-believe world. Moon used you. Your parents never stopped caring, never gave up on you.’

My tears were hot They had nothing to do with what she was saying. The thought of my mother’s love made me feel that I could love myself, forgive myself, cleanse myself of the never-ending guilt I had felt in the Family. For once I could feel that I had given of myself, that I was a good person. No matter what Sara said, I was not a spoiled brat. I was sincerely trying to do the best thing. I felt the two of me, one pitiful and the other pitying.

Doug joined us. He had a VOC lecture book in his hand. ‘You know, what really gets me is how you went on and on so self-righteously about Moon being against communism. What do you or anyone else in the group really know about it? Did you know that Moon uses the identical methods of indoctrination? You have the world so sharply divided between Satan and God, black and white. Do you think that fascism is any better than communism? Was Hitler any better than Stalin? I can see the Moonies on trial saying, “I was only following orders”. What about democracy?’ He paused and fished in his case for some papers.

‘You need only one error in the Divine Principle to make it false. We’ve shown you hundreds. It’s a strange thing about mind control — if you demolish most of the doctrine and leave just a tiny bit standing, the mind hangs onto it.’

Evening brought another guest. Mom had been talking about a young man who had been deprogrammed from the Divine Light Mission. She was glad that he had been able to arrange the time to come and talk with me. He talked about his job, asked how I was feeling, stayed away from heavy subjects. It was hard for me to remember how conversations were supposed to go. By the time he got to the end of a question, I had forgotten the first part of it. He sensed that I was bleary.

He set up a tape recorder for me to hear a speech by his former guru. A man with a funny accent was saying something like: when you have evil thoughts, push them out of your mind. Because your mind troubles you, give it to me. It won’t trouble me.

The young man rolled his eyes ceiling-ward. We all laughed yet it was a frightening tape. How could you be told what and what not to think? Imagine someone telling people not to use their —

Father ‘I am your thinker. I am your brain.’

Lectures: Have no give and take with negative thoughts.

It suddenly wasn’t so funny. Change the accent a little and —

The young man nodded when I looked up at him with this realization spilling out of me. The room was filled with people. Such a small room, so many conversations like a cocktail party. No one noticed the crucial understanding in that exchanged glance. It didn’t matter. In the Family everything had to be noticed, examined, accounted for and nothing belonged to me. It was always public knowledge, any private thought. This understanding was for me alone, accountable to me, a me exists. In the Family everything was given equally ultimate significance. Things do have different values. So no one noticed me. So what.

I was resting my head in my mother’s lap and she stroked my hair distractedly. She was engrossed in a conversation with Doug. Jill and Sara were laughing about something in the corner. The others were getting up to go into the kitchen. The young man from the Indian cult stretched out between my mother and the wall.

Why hadn’t Father told us about these other groups — so many of them? Sara had read me the testimonies of people I thought were all ex-Family members. Turns out they were from several other groups. All else aside, Father should have explained to us the truth about cults and mind control for our own sake.

‘Would you like to go out with me sometime?’ The young man had a nice smile.

I laughed. ‘Under the circumstances, that’s a very tempting offer.’ The escape I had wanted. I was surprised when I found myself telling him to call me at my mother’s house to arrange a date. Would I be living there?

‘Wherever you are, I’ll find you. All the employees where I work are going to Disneyland for an evening, you know, when they close the park down for a private party. Would you like to do something like that?’

Be anonymous again? Be a part of life with no one looking over my shoulder? Laugh at simple things?

How had it happened? It seemed that as soon as I entertained the possibility of something other than Principle, my prison vanished. I was free. Confused but free.

What about True Parents? I loved Father and could see him accusing me of being Judas. I pictured the photos from the locket. I visualized the image of Parents deep inside me. They would stay there until I dealt with them later. I would deal with everything later.

Before I fell asleep, Jill came in. She sat down where I was snuggled under the covers. ‘Know what I did the other night? I went down to the ocean. I kicked off my shoes and walked along the shore. I found a place to sit and I just sat there feeling the wind on my face, listening to the waves, smelling the salt air, letting the feeling of the sea surround me. I thought to myself: I am free. I can think anything I want.’

I was jealous of her. How wonderful to go to the sea. To sit at the shore and belong to no one. That most sacred and private place between me and me had been violated. I wanted the salt air to cleanse me, renew me.

What do you do when a huge section of your life is spliced out and the two ends fit neatly back together as if that time had never been — when you wonder where that lost time went but you’re still in it like a phantom — when you wonder who that other person in the time spliced out was but at the same time realize that that other person is the most familiar core of what you are made of — when you are relieved to the point of euphoria and terrified at the same time (both for no apparent reason and for endless reasons) — when you can’t go back to being that old self at the past end of the splice and certainly aren’t the self you haven’t been yet at the future end — and the reality of the matters at hand is so crushing that it requires the equivalent of a session of parliament in your brain to decide if you want a cup of coffee and when none of that really matters because everything emanates a calm like the warbling of birds after the bombing has stopped and you know the bombs will never fall again.

Another good night of sleep. In the morning we breakfasted and talked. I was aware that I no longer had any opinions about anything. I was blank. The blast had taken everything out by the roots. I was amazed that Danny and Doug disagreed on various things. The outside world was now my world and it was not united. Doug was talking to me about switching over from my absolutist frame of mind. He said that the doctrine wasn’t so important but the way I thought. Not which things were painted black and which were painted white, because these varied from cult to cult. All ex-members, he said, had to get away from thinking in black-and-white terms and start looking at the shades of grey. I was miles ahead of him. I was dealing with technicolour. Let out of a dark hole into the blazing sunlight, the eyes of my mind winced closed.

I didn’t want to leave the deprogramming room for the time. I didn’t feel deprogrammed. I was to learn that deprogramming only starts the mind thinking again, asking questions. It doesn’t provide the answers.

I was brought into the living room. The team was relaxed, limbs draped over the furniture, every comment followed by a soft round of chuckles. The world had never looked so wholesome, so inviting. It seemed that milk and honey, or sunlight or some tangible substance of peace was flowing out of everything.

Dana and his wife stopped by. They were on their way back to France. Dana told me a little bit about the concerts he was doing. His wife told me about her dress when I admired it. Alice showed me pictures of her children. Tears still formed in her eyes when she looked at me and several times she put her arm around me to say what she couldn’t find words for. She promised me that I would have a wonderful life. I hoped I didn’t look to her like someone who needed a glass of warm milk. The drifts of conversation carried jokes and casual swearing I found offensive. It was all too much for a mind that was racing nowhere fast. I wandered back into the deprogramming room and curled up on the floor with the pillow. Danny followed me in and plunked himself down.

‘Wanna talk?’

‘Sure.’

I didn’t, really. I just wanted to absorb the racing.

‘Spit it out.’

It wasn’t a matter of spitting, it was a matter of running to all the vast frontiers of my brain at once with a sieve to catch evaporating thoughts. It came out something like this:

‘Dan, I want you to watch me. I think I might be too clever, like I might be fooling you — or me — or something. I want to be deprogrammed or not deprogrammed. Maybe you know what I mean.’

‘Sorry, lady, I know what you’re going through but I can’t help you. You have to do this one alone. The ball, as they say, is in your court.’

‘What did you do after you left the Children of God?’

‘Why, so you can do the same? Sorry, I ain’t gonna be your new messiah. Besides, I don’t think you’d want to do what I did. When I found out that Moses David wasn’t the end-time prophet, I got sick. I just started to vomit. I was in bed shivering and sweating and Sara stayed up with me. It was a long time before I could go back and understand what had happened. I floated a lot. Floating means when you snap back into your programme. You’re probably not far enough out to snap back into it but when you do — it’s an eerie feeling —’

‘Like being back in the cult but not being there? Like phantoms?’

‘Like phantoms.’

Danny stood up and moved for the door. ‘Piecing things back together takes a long time. You have to learn to be patient with yourself — like when you get your leg out of a cast, you can’t run on it right away.’

I could hear the others laughing in the living room. I stared at the carpet. My senses were like bees out of the hive. I could see the carpet. The blue was so intense I could almost hear it. I could take the feel of it under my hands. I could feel my heart beat. A few moments, a few precious moments of awareness. I would have a lifetime of them. Cradling myself I thought no one, no one can ever take this away from me. Yet hadn’t someone already done that? Yes, I would have to have patience even to find the place to begin again.

‘Honey?’ My mother was standing at the door. ‘Can you come here for a minute? We want to ask you something.’ In the next room Chuck was sitting on the bed. Mom shut the door. The floor was piled high with a tangle of clothes spilling out of half-open suitcases. My mother sat on the edge of the bed, choosing her words gingerly.

‘How do you feel?’

‘Like Lazarus. Whatever the question, the answer is probably going to be “why not”?’

‘Erica, we have to decide what you’re going to do now. You know that you have all the time in the world and that we’re always here for you but Sara thinks it would be a good idea for you to go home with her for a while. Some time to rest and learn some more. She has answers we simply don’t have. There is so much more you have to sort out for yourself.’

The thought appealed to me. Of course, just like the ladies in nineteenth-century novels who took a cruise or sojourned at an auntie’s when they were grieving. But on the heels of this came an image of Sara’s house. So many new things to cope with. She would have friends visiting. The thought of having to face anyone new was staggering. Of having to fill my time. If only I could hide away, but where? I didn’t want to see anyone I knew, not even my sister, until I was better. Before I could finish the thought, a tidal wave of tears tore everything loose. They were not tears of self-pity, frustration or grief. They were not tears of relief. They were tears I was born with. I wanted to cry to the bottom of them so I would never have to cry again. I don’t know how long we were there, Mom and Chuck crying too before Sara poked her head in the door.

‘Mind?’ she abbreviated.

Mom and Chuck exited. Sara curled up on the bed.

‘Enough clothes for the first six months, eh? I’ll say. It’s been what, two or three days? You sure don’t travel light ’ I found a sleeve of something to mop my face with.

‘Coming to New York with me?’ Sara never cut any fancy footwork, never introduced a subject. She searched my face. The invitation was sincere.

I grinned. ‘When do we leave?’

pages 228-236

When you hurt yourself somehow, fall down or get in a fight, you walk away thinking you’re feeling pain until you wake up the next morning and the soreness has set in and you puff up and turn every colour of the rainbow. I was going along for a while thinking, jeez, there’s not much to this when the shock wave returned from its journey of reverberation and smacked me. I was so bottomed-out physically that I didn’t get to the mental problems for a long time.

Most of the first month I slept I’d get up at ten and be back in bed by three in the afternoon. It was hot and humid. I shared Sara’s bedroom, a converted attic. There were windows at both ends under the eaves and the heavy summer wind passed through the room. Whenever I closed my eyes and put my head on the pillow, I felt I was falling into a thick darkness with such a strong force that there was no way to hold back. Sleep locked me into a blackness violently swarming with images. I would wake up screaming or imagining that I had screamed. No matter where she was in the house, Sara would hear me make the slightest stir and would appear at my side to put on the light, smooth down the covers and listen to me until I was quiet again.

It was during that time that I became familiar with a nightmare that recurred for years. A black ocean devoid of life. No matter how far inland I was, the waves would find me and suck me out to the depths. It was not the water that frightened me because I could breathe in it. It wasn’t a fear of sharks or sea monsters. Not even a microbe lived in the sterile inkyness. It was the power and vastness of it.

I was extremely sensitive to light and sounds. Crowds made me dizzy; the faces would blend and I’d grow faint. My memory and attention spans were useless. I couldn’t read or converse for more than a few minutes without getting completely worn down and needing a rest Reading a newspaper article could take an hour. How would I ever catch up on the world since my Rip Van Winkle sleep in the cult? I even had to learn about the things I’d not been isolated from but merely blanked out of my perception like the changes in clothing styles.

Sara had to keep reminding me to think for myself, to not look to her for opinions, to not soak up whatever I heard. But she had little trouble getting me to try new things. Boating, skating, concerts, dancing, water-skiing — but not all things came easily. Remembering how I had served Kadachi-san and all the guests at headquarters house soft drinks and had never been allowed to drink something so fine myself, I swore I’d drink the stuff until I burst In the cult I had served from bottles and didn’t know that drink cans had since changed and were manufactured with pop tabs. I saw the cans in the fridge and balked. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to figure out how to open one and didn’t venture to try for several months. I never knew when I would excel and when I would fail, when the next step would be on rotten floorboards or on no floor at all. I glossed over with what I hoped was a sophisticated appearance by remembering things from the old Erica.

Sara read me as if I had neon signs flashing what I needed. When something needed to be resolved, she never hesitated to draw me into discussion but dancing the polka at Polish weddings, sitting on the front stoop eating watermelon, taking a martini break from a shopping spree, washing the dog and chasing each other around the yard with the hose — these did more for me than years of psychotherapy ever could have.

I shuddered to think if I had been institutionalized instead of deprogrammed I would have been in a hospital for years getting worse. Sara knew what she was doing. She had first gotten involved when her brother fell prey to a nomadic cult and disappeared. He got arrested hundreds of miles away and when they went to claim him, they found a total stranger who spoke in Bible verse, wore a long robe and had been surviving by scrounging food from garbage tins. After straightening him out, handling a Moonie was a piece of cake.

She took me out to meet people — seemed like she knew everyone in the whole state. We gave talks about mind control. We’d pull into a small town, talk to the school kids, the local paper, the service club luncheon and then have the whole town turn out in the evening to hear us speak at the church. What a welcome to the Fallen World! Total strangers listening to me with tears in their eyes, pinching my cheeks, giving me their addresses in case I ever needed them for anything. The warmth and attention were wonderful but I started to feel like a circus exhibit.

Sara started doing deprogrammings at home. It was my turn to say: I’ve been in your shoes. Every time I watched a deprogramming, another huge burden was lifted. They didn’t all break out of mind control in the same way. Kara from Ananda Marga let out screams that shook the house and Billy from The Way calmly balanced his Bible on his knee, took off his spectacles to wipe them and observed, ‘Well, it certainly appears that I’ve been deceived.’ Some said nothing but flushed in stunned silence. It was always miraculous to see the real person suddenly rush into the robot shell.

We worked together on floating until each person learned to handle it alone. We recognized the symptoms in one another instantly and instinctively. Sometimes the eyes would glaze over or the person would drop out of conversation. My own mind was like a minefield. I never knew when I’d trip an explosion. Sometimes I’d catch it like a contact high from one of the others, sometimes a phrase, a snatch of a song, maybe an unresolved bit of doctrine and always parking lots. Going to stores was a trial. I’d automatically check the lot for the flow, for the clues from Spirit World. If no one else was around, I’d work myself into a panic. I’d think what if, what if. If they are right, I’ve been deceived by Satan. My mind would start pacing and sniffing its old haunt, Purpose/Fall/ Restoration, and I’d snap back, or only half snap back and be spread between here and nowhere.

The thing to do was trace the floating back and resolve the problem that had triggered it In the cult they told us to cut off doubt Sara encouraged it Challenge, weigh, delve, decide. In the cult they told us that everything about the other world was evil. Sara told us not to destroy our good memories and benefits from the cult, people we loved, things we had learned and overcome.

Floating was only the punctuation, not the constant

The constant was exhilaration. The intensity of it was sure to illuminate the rest of my life. Every time I encountered something, I considered it as if I had never known of it before. There is an essence one can sometimes feel for a quiver of a moment when he looks at the stars. I felt that all the time. The smallest thing was not without its glory. Being able to sit down without permission, without guilt Buying a postage stamp with my own money and being able to send a letter of my very own thoughts to anyone. Feeling the wind, seeing the buildings, smelling the earth, letting my imagination run free. And being able to say no.

This expanding, more than anything else, combated floating. I simply could not fit back into that narrow mental slot. When I realized that, I knew that even though I was not completely healed, it was time for me to get back into the world.

I was prepared to enter society at the bottom rung, having been used to meeting handicaps that I never knew I had until I found myself in a situation for which I was not equipped. It took me a long time to realize that part of my handicap at this stage was being too advanced. By having met my weaknesses and shortcomings I had become stronger and wiser than most people who simply refused to admit to human frailty. I kept thinking I was wrong because I didn’t fit in but it was still the same old world that didn’t make sense.

There were practical problems that hit me left and right How to explain that blank in my resume when applying for a job. Say that I was off on independent study in some remote place or tell the truth and risk losing out on the job? Getting a driver’s licence, opening a bank account, getting references to rent a flat — meeting new people, especially dating, I always wondered if I should tell the story or not If I didn’t tell it, I would remain a stranger and if I did, I’d have to tell the whole thing knowing that when I’d finished, the person was not likely to have changed his view that cults are harmless groups of people who are better off where they are. When I was speaking to groups in New York, the people had been friendly because they pitied me. Now I was learning that no one really understood.

One of my old friends invited me to a high school reunion party. I mingled: a singer, a local politician, a craftsman, a journalist One woman arrived late. The talk quieted down as she made her entrance and hellos. ‘Sorry I’m late, guys. You’ll never believe what held me up. I stopped at a gas station and some Moonie came up trying to sell me flowers!’

The whole room burst into laughter. I looked down at my drink. The girl I’d been talking to turned to resume the conversation. ‘And what have you been up to since I last saw you, Erica?’

The thing that got me most upset was when people asked why I had become a Moonie and then didn’t notice at all how uncomfortable I was in answering. They’d never think to ask in casual conversation, tell us about how you became a quadriplegic in your motorcycle accident or tell us about watching your best friend get blown to bits in Vietnam and, oh, pass the chips, won’t you?

I found out that my brother had tried to foil the deprogramming. He thought my mother was over-reacting and shouldn’t treat me like a baby by bailing me out of trouble. He thought it was a fad, a phase I’d pass through. He wanted to phone me at the camp to tip me off to get out before she came to get me. Luckily, he wasn’t motivated enough to follow through. When I saw him, I asked him about it He scoffed at the idea that I had been brainwashed. Okay, big brother, what if you are right and I had just happened to, say, be into self-mutilation and your little plan had worked? He was unmoved. According to him, my great failing was that I just hadn’t been cool, hadn’t been doing the in thing, something I was still guilty of. I decided, after a time, to put my thoughts to him in a letter. The letter came back to me. He had scrawled across it ‘I’m rubber, you’re glue ...’ from the rhyme we used to taunt each other with as children ‘… anything you say bounces off me and sticks to you’. Welcome home, sis.

Surely someone would understand. I went to speak to a rabbi who reduced me to tears by ridiculing me for having toyed with Christianity and then to a minister who said I would have never become a Moonie if I had studied Christianity better. Father Peter was too embarrassed to discuss it I was barking up the wrong tree. It wasn’t a religious problem but a psychological one.

I finally came across a lukewarm article on the subject in an obscure publication and wrote to the author. He referred me to the only person he knew who had any knowledge of cults. I went to see this professor and gladly consented to having our talk taped for use in his book. A totally misleading sliver of one of my remarks later appeared in a Moonie PR book. I then heard that this professor was on Moon’s payroll as a functionary at the annual international conference that a Dr Moon with eyeglasses hosts for eminent scientists.

After the Jonestown tragedy, an informational hearing was called in Washington, DC. The Moonie campaign to have the event cancelled did not succeed but they pressured enough that the Moonie president was called to testify and ex-members were not.

Hundreds of Moonies had the place mobbed by dawn. A friend, fearing for my safety, got me into the hearing room before the doors were opened to the public. First the press came in, bright lights, scuffle, equipment being set up, the sound of people filling up the room behind me and then a peculiar and familiar stench. That smell I could never get rid of on the fundraising team. I turned around and saw the entire hall filled with Moonies. As people stood in turn to give their presentations, the Moonies jeered, stomped their feet, hurled insults. Security guards, panelists, press all stiffened at the unpredictability of this confrontation. Wasn’t it the right of a governing body to gather information after the assassination of a congressmen and the death of over 900 others? How many were the Moonies willing to sacrifice to protect themselves? One of the ex-cultists prevented from testifying who had lost her tiny son in the suicide-massacre shook like a leaf when the Moonie president spoke in her stead. The Moonies rose as a man with a deafening cheer.

I wasn’t going to hang around. I pushed my way through the knotted crowd towards a side exit. Almost there but someone was blocking my path. I tapped his shoulder to move him aside. He spun around and faced me. Baum.

‘Erica, it’s-so-good-to-see-you, we’ve-been-so-worried-about-you.’

Yeah, so worried you’ve been losing sleep thinking what deprogrammed fundraisers will do to Moon’s bank account. I tried to step past He kept talking so fast he was spitting.

‘Listen, Sister, I-know-that-you-think-I’m-possessed-by-evil-spirits and we-think-that-you’re-possessed-by-evil-spirits, but-that-doesn’t-mean-that —’

‘Bob,’ I luxuriated in the heresy of addressing him like that and putting my hand on his shoulder, ‘I don’t believe in evil spirits.’

‘What?’ He took in a sharp breath and seemed to grow visibly larger with disbelief and indignation. ‘Well... don’t you believe in God?’ He had on a red and white pinstripe shirt that had an odd optical effect of making him seem to vibrate all the more.

‘You mean a person can’t believe in God without believing in little invisible things running around that make people open their wallets and fall asleep on the highway?’

I still love you, Bob, but not in a way you could understand. Not because doctrine says I must, not to show how super-spiritual I am.

‘I know you weren’t one of those jeering and stomping your feet You were always dignified and knew to turn the other cheek.’

His smile caught me off guard. Then I checked the eyes. They were blazing. ‘Oh, no. Oh, no.’ His head bobbled. ‘Things have changed. The time has come. The course has changed from a passive one to one of aggression. We’re on the offensive now.’

All the times Moon had spoken about military aggression. All the times we listened with our lids fluttering closed, as he droned on in his hypnotic way, punctuating with militaristic words, of battle, of enemy, of charging and crushing, defeating, subjugating, annihilating, of taking over the government, the United Nations, the whole world. Baum had me by both arms. I looked toward the door, searching wildly for a face I knew. Two friends spotted me. They flanked me and moved me through the door into an empty corridor. Baum ran after me, shouting, dancing to himself, trying to pry one of the men loose.

‘Leave her alone, Baum, can’t you see she doesn’t want to talk to you?’

‘Never mind that. You have to answer to a few things, Erica. What about this article in Newsweek? Why did you lie, Erica? Why are you saying things about us that you know aren’t true? You can’t do that, you can’t get away with it.’ He had his lips peeled back, lunging forward at every question. What did he intend to do about it? The press had already gone for the story about suicide training in the Moonies, about members being taught how to slash their wrists. Ex-members everywhere were crawling out of the woodwork. I wasn’t the only one talking.

Off the corridor behind one of the endless unmarked doors we stood. We’d ditched Baum. I was shaking. I sank into a chair.

I was shaking because I knew that but for a flick of fate, Baum and I could have traded places.

And by that same fate I had once been a model Moonie, a hard-liner like Baum. Would I not have made a model Nazi? Had not both the victim and the victimizer lived within me? Was I not now cast out forever from the innocence I once enjoyed? Moon had held out the forbidden fruit and my eyes had been opened to know good and evil.

#FFWPU #Family Federation for World Peace and Unification #Moonies #Unification Church #Sun Myung Moon #Erica Heftmann

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