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tonya-the-chicken · 3 years

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I’m not going to change your views but it does feel a bit dismissive when you say it wasn’t that bad because he had rich parents who neglected him but hey they got a maid for him and he probably wasn’t outcasted or bullied so hey it’s not that bad right 🤷‍♀️! I don’t know he definitely didn’t have the worse out of the villains but I don’t know it felt a bit dismissive is all. Although we need to all remember these are fictional characters so have no idea why the other anon needed to get so aggressive! Also the person in the notes I don’t know how to say it but uh the whole the Todoroki’s had a rich father they didn’t have to work a day in their life take is not a good look. Just because someone has parents with money it doesn’t derail the fact that neglect can cause trauma.

Anyways for the real reason I sent this, you wonder why Dabi is so insane. Well take into account the neglect alongside the fact that he burnt to near death up on that hill alone at the age of what 13? That’s got to be extra traumatising, especially for a child that was already not mentally ok. We also don’t know what his circumstances were like after that fire, like was he homeless? Or picked up by someone nefarious? Kind of like AFO(not him exactly but someone nasty) who maybe fed on his brewing anger and hate instead of positive healing. I’m sure we will find out at some point? I don’t think it was just what happened in the Todoroki household or the fire that broke his mind? There had to be other factors after the fire after his “death”!

[[WARNING!!! I love Dabi as a character but I am not a woobifier so if you are too much into him don't read!!!! No complaints taken, y'all will be blocked for being rude I am too old to deal with people unable to interact with me in good faith (anon it's not for you, you are good and I can't understand your point of view I am just not as good as a person and too old for that shit)]]

I don't think I will change my mind either but I feel like the belief that every trauma is equally bad is just... Simply wrong. Like, we can legit compare this stuff and how badly it affects our brain, what do y'all think psychologists research 🤷‍♀️ Like, your therapist won't tell you this because it's not their job to make you understand you not the centre of the Earth (and it won't help because it is a legit trauma response that is very valid but is annoying you're fucking 25 yo). And to say that, neglectful parenthood is probably the worst parenthood style, as far as I know XD I wrote coursework about this (neglectful bitches are having a lot of need to make us the biggest victims (the bitches is me))... It also feels really American to me? Like, are we going to pretend people who got to live in a nice house and were neglect somehow got it as bad as people living in poverty or warzones? Hello? Imagine telling some orphan "I know you have no parents but actually, my trauma of my father not spending enough time with me is just as severe as yours". Bruh couldn't be me sorry... Like, even taking into account the fact that we can have weaker or stronger nervous systems or be more prone to depressive episodes *looks in the mirror and cries* I simply wouldn't find the guts to say my trauma is as severe as idk people who had physically abusive parents or no parents at all or who were disowned for being gay

And like **again** I am not saying that neglect is not traumatic I WAS NEGLECTED THIS IS TRAUMATIZING AS FUCK. I just am living in a country at war and with lots of discrimination problems and I like... Can't say I am the biggest victim. Sorry I can't though there were times when I was a lot more bitchy especially before being in therapy so I understand where you are coming from and I know what I am saying won't resonate with everyone (it's ok go on your own healing journey I believe in you) but this doesn't mean it is garbage and won't help me or someone else... I've already talked once about it but as a person, I am very easily irritated and envious and really not your local Jesus and partially my trauma turned me like this so being more humble about my sufferings helps me not be a complete bitch (believe me or not but people with traumas and mental illnesses are often insufferable *looks in the mirror* not me though I am perfect... BUT IT IS OK TO BE INSUFFERABLE OK??? like, bitch, that's normal. That's normal to stink when you are depressed it's ok to be a bitch when you are hurting. Forgive yourself because I forgive you (when you are not being an abusive asshole but if you apologize and explain yourself I will forgive that too)

The reason why I talk about the fact he is rich is that I've got a disease called leftism and I am a person of several marginalized identities and since this fandom LOVES looking at characters like real humans, I looked at Dabi this way. And if Dabi was a real human, I wouldn't sympathize with him one bit. I would fucking hate him for being the biggest entitled asshole who commits crimes for the reason his Daddy didn't give him attention. Bitch, my Dad didn't give me attention either! But somehow I don't kill people! And I don't even have money!!!! But like... I am not denying that neglectful parents are not a problem. It is. But he is overreacting, bro. He needs to humble down and recognize the fact he is a fucking idiot (he is). He has inherently so much more resources to recover and heal himself than I had... Yes, I am just being jealous at this point but honestly. Making an entire country suffer for you is not a good thing and y'all need to stop using trauma and mental illness as an excuse for people. No! Being abusive to people because of neglect is not valid, is overreacting and you had no reason to do that. I am dismissing your trauma because you are exaggerating it to make me sympathize with your asshole behaviour. I won't judge people with different sets of standards as I judge myself

I bet it would be dismissive and bad if I said it in conversation with someone who is currently struggling with mental health and is not a murderer. But guess what! I don't talk with humans and my friends the same way I talk on my Tumblr about fictional characters 🤷‍♀️ Not to mention I don't have rich friends akabsksbxm

I think with Dabi there's this whole thing where we saw him at 14 (poor baby boy) and 24 (a grown-ass boy) and... Like, I am so sorry for 14 years old Touya not receiving the help he needs (bruh so relatable) but I am not gonna act like 24 years old bitch can't get his ass to a psychiatrist (extremely unrelatable and infuriating). We shouldn't apply the same standards to kids and adults. We can talk all day long about how society is bad and how our parents ruined us but at some points, you gotta take your life into your own hands and do something and be an adult. And it's fucking hard when you're born with a shitty brain that was fucked up by your parents even more in a society where no one gives a fuck but I sincerely don't know another way to live. You will feel bad and want to die but you either keep on recovering or keep on getting worse and at this point getting worse is Dabi's *choice* That's how I live, that's my framework and I am, of course, extremely fortunate in a lot of ways but I just don't know how are you supposed to survive without the notion that grown people are responsible for themselves and their mental health. We can't act like adults are babies

But as a character, Dabi is fucking hot ngl. Like, do I sometimes want to murder my entire family, make them suffer AND commit terrorist attacks? We all do. Dabi is the dark fantasy of us neglectful bitches craving some attention. Gotta kill the president and tell everyone that my Dad sucks. Imagine the entire country hearing your Dad sucks? That's the juice, that's the dream. Trauma makes you vicious. I get the sentiment. Imagine all those fuckers who made you feel like shit pissing their pants and crying? Imagine your Mom being afraid of you the way you used to be afraid of her? People do have the desire for some violent justice but like... Think of bullied kids committing school shootings. But instead of a kid, it's a grown man who graduated school and who also have a rich father

Ok too much about irl stuff and philosophy shit. I know my way of talking is kinda brute so just know the way I treat people is different from that I treat fictional characters, in particular, I don't call real-life humans submissive and breedable... And stuff...

Damn Dabi is kinda good to project your hatred of your parents in bruh, I should write a fanfic about that (would be cathartic)

To the plotline, I am also very interested in what the hell happened with him after burning because... How the hell he wasn't found? I kind of DON'T want him to be groomed at this point because I feel like it won't be as cool as him just more naturally evolving into what he became. Like, surely, he is an asshole but consider this: as a villain, he is morally obligated to be an asshole

I feel like someone hiding him and Touya overstating the gruesomeness of his living conditions to the dude so he feels *bad* for him and hides him and feels sympathy and Touya gets attention but also begins to reassure himself in the fact his Dad needs to be punished... Idk it's a lot of mystery but I feel like more suffering won't deliver the point the way I want it... I mean it CAN be handled this way and initially I thought a lot about Dabi being brainwashed a bit or having his memories altered so it seems worse to him or even him being groomed or lied too but nowadays I am not into it. I mean I believe in Horikoshi and that he will handle him well 🛐

I talk a lot so I will summarize

If we judge him as a real human

14 yo Touya - DID NOTHING WRONG IN HIS LIFE PROTECT HIM

24 yo Dabi - go fuck yourself bitch you older than me and act like a child and kill people, I couldn't care less about your trauma rich boy

If you want me to talk as his psychologist

Yeah, it is painful and sad, I understand him so much and surely, his trauma is valid as is his hatred but probably revenge won't bring him what he wants. And what he wants is love and attention. But he gotta make choices that will lead to his healing. He needs to *want* to heal. And we will step by step go to the healing because it is possible. He is loved and he is enough. AND YOU ALL MOTHERFUCKERS WILL HEAL I BELIEVE IN YOU BESTIES

Also his therapist (behind his back)

You won't believe it but my client is the most infantile attention whore I've ever met

But if we talk about him as a character... Very delicious soup

If you talk with your friends

Please, if your friends are being abusive to you or someone else don't even LET them say how their trauma made them this way. No. Nothing allows you to be an abuser. Call them out and stop them and make them talk to the therapist. Like, surely, there are extreme situations like severe mental illnesses or extreme neglect where we should be more forgiving but babying adults won't do you any good and won't make them recover

Yeah, I guess this is what I forgot to say. When I say "it wasn't that bad" what I mean is that I would be more forgiving to people who had it worse. It's more of a personal measure where I can tolerate stuff from people who had particular traumas or from those who suffered greatly (it's not my place to be a bitch here). I can forgive 14 years old or a poor person for stealing stuff but not the 25-year-old man who got no need for money and is not a kleptomaniac. I would be more forgiving to Shigaraki than to Dabi because Shigaraki was groomed a whole lot. Same for Toga, who is not even an adult or Twice who is a poor orphan. But that doesn't mean I would forgive them completely. All of them are shitty people. It's just that they had fewer resources and possibilities to not be what they became while Dabi had more but he acts like he is extremely hurt and the biggest victim which is like... There will be people like this in your life, please, don't make friends with them, they WILL abuse you

I talked a lot damn. It's adhd I can't shut up

#asks #bnha #bnha manga spoilers #todoroki touya #bnha dabi #killing people is a legit coping mechanism #I mean I possibly do sound dismissive I am very brute in my talking but I really can't be bothered #all I am saying that I am not dismissing neglect what I am dismissing is the idea that is is bad enough to justify Dabi's reaction #neglect was bad Dabi's reaction is disproportionate though #you. don't get to kill people because your Dad didn't love you #you do get to kill people if those people killed your family #just so you understand #I got tired of talking

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mearihellalicious · 3 years

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It’s 4 o’ clock in the morning in the most humid city I have ever lived in. I was suddenly awakened by a random noise outside my apartment. As a light sleeper, dozing off again is a hard thing to do. So,what would a solitary woman do at this time of the day? Reminisce. Think of the good old days.

Out of the blue, I stumbled upon my chat box. Heaps of ‘ancient’ talks strolled me down through memory lane. One particular conversation with a guy urged me to write this expressive piece.Perhaps this confession is no longer valuable now since it has been several ages ago, but the thought of penning down a revelation thrills me at this exact moment.

They say the best memories in a person’s life happen in high school — when we are too old for playgrounds but too young for night clubs. I can’t say it’s true for me, but I do have happy high school thoughts. We've been classmates for four straight years in high school. Back then, we were paired up through the matchmaking prowess of our classmates. They assumed we looked good together, that we had ‘physical chemistry’, if that’s even a valid phrase to describe it.

True enough, you were quite a good-looking guy but I was not attracted to you in the slightest bit. Nevertheless, you were the kind of guy who knew how to carry yourself in the most desirable way possible. You were always neat and sweet-scented. You could pull off a white shirt and jeans outfit and would simply look gorgeous.

All throughout my mundane high school life, you consistently made me feel ‘special’ but I hardly cared at some point. The way I treated you was on a mood to mood basis. At times, I rode along with your trips, no matter how strange; other times, I felt irritated with your insistent presence. Sometimes, we seemed to be getting along pretty well; most times, I argued with you and ignored you for no acceptable reason at all.

During summertime, we communicated through text messages or landline calls. I could recall how bipolar I was by asking you to move on from me and promised to remain friends once classes start in June. But the next day, we would cry over the phone, asking each other to hold on to whatever we have — although I didn’t know what was the most appropriate term to label that kind of relationship. We seemed to be more than friends but less than lovers.

As each year passed, we became closer to each other. I was aware of how you felt about me. Everyone else in the class knew it too since you were vocal about it. Yet I didn’t take your emotional state seriously. I would talk to you only when I felt chatty or when I needed something. Every time it rained, you would take your polo shirt off to cover me so I didn’t get wet. Whenever I was hungry, you fed me. Goodness, you were a selfless man!

But then again, I took you for granted because I was eyeing on someone else. I had a lot of silly crushes, not to mention, I went crazy over them. You made me know how jealous you were of the guys I fancied but it was no big deal for me. You quickly became just an option. Despite myself, you stayed still.

Then one day, I was walking alone around the campus, a group of freshmen were calling my name. One of them introduced herself to me. She told me she was your sister. I didn’t realize until then that she was attending the same school.“You’re Ellen, right? My brother really likes you and even keeps your photo under his pillow,” she exposed. From that day on, we somehow became friends. She teased me an awful lot as she revealed all the weird things you did and just how much you adored me.

Every Valentine’s Day, you never ran out of romantic ideas. Although I was single, I never felt out of place. When I arrived in school, a small bouquet of flowers was already waiting for me onmy desk with a note or chocolates with it. You even baked cake for me when I requested it from you. However, on our last ‘Hearts Day’ in high school, things were different. Something happened two days before V-Day.

As an active girl scout, I normally spent my vacant time in that room exclusive for us. When we entered the room, my friend saw an envelope on the floor addressed to me and was signed as ‘secret admirer’. I didn’t believe it until I saw the letter and read it. It was about the sender’s love for me and the hope that I felt the same way. I was clueless who it was from but our classmates pointed their fingers at you. You stubbornly denied the claim saying, “It’s not me. Don’t flatter yourself!”

The next day, I found another letter from ‘secret admirer’. It was an acrostic poem of my name. The words were so deep and heartwarming that I could feel myself melt. Finally, on the 14th of February, another letter came. It was very simple — a whole sheet of bond paper filled with ‘I love you’. I thought there was nothing to it until I noticed there were some capital letters in them, which my best friend and I figured the message, “Please meet me today at the YES-O (Office) at 6 PM. I will be waiting for you. Please don't bring anyone. I want you to be solo. Don’t worry, I only want to introduce myself.”

I was sold to the belief that someone was playing a prank on me so I didn’t plan on meeting the sender.It was raining hard that day and we were having our daily girl scout formation at the oval field. Suddenly, you arrived and called out my name. I excused myself from the drill to meet you when you said, “Someone’s waiting for you at the office, why didn't you go?” “For real? I don’t care whoever he is,” I replied. Then with downcast eyes, you answered, “Honestly, it was me.” At that point, you handed flowers to me and I teasingly punched you in the arm. It felt so awkward that I rudely sent you home. That was our final romantic encounter.Before we graduated, we made a pact that if wewere both single by year 2019 (I’m not even sure of that anymore), we’d meet each other again at the Taoist Temple and we’d start things right.

Several months later, I got into a relationship. We didn’t see each other for quite some time and the communication spiraled from little to none at all.Surprisingly, on my first birthday after high school (since my birthday falls during summer), I was at home when a kid approached me and handed a letter with a rose and said, “Someone asked me to give it to you.”

As I learned it was from you, I ran hurriedly outside the house, hoping to see you again, but you were already gone. I was so moved knowing you still cared for me even when I was already dating someone. You went through all the trouble just to greet me. A few days later, I argued with you for what you did, for simply disappearing. As an apology, you paid me a visit and we chitchat over the pizza that you brought.

During college, we had separate lives. The last conversation we had in 2012 was about our plan of going abroad together, particularly Germany. You wanted me to meet your grandmother and you even said you would still marry me. Perhaps it was meant to be a joke, but I probably believed it at that time.

All of a sudden, you met your first girlfriend. I came out from two terrible relationships while you were in a blissful state with her. I saw all her posts of your little surprises for her, your sweet gestures. I knew the feeling too well and I understood how lucky she was. I felt nothing but pure happiness — that you finally found someone who could love you the way you were supposed to be loved.

Unexpectedly, I noticed that I could no longer see any of your updates in Facebook. I searched for your name and I realized I was already blocked. You unfollowed me on Instagram and you removed me as your Twitter follower. Complete loss of contact.

The last thing I heard was your relationship with her was going strong and you were intensely in love with each other. I used to envy her but I realized that no, I don’t wish to be her. I don’t deserve a man as great as you are. I might not be able to handle you. I only wish you all the happiness in this world.You may not be my TOTGA but you were my sweetest ‘what if’. I hope when you get married, you would at least invite me so I get the chance to witness the happiest day of your life. Yes, there was never an ‘us’ but there was you — someone who once in my life treated me right — because once upon a time, you were my fairytale.

PS. to whoever know him, please don't mention his name:)

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nookishposts · 3 years

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Managing Messages

It would appear that there is a sea change going on in my brain. Self-reflection seems to be a mid-life given and I believe that has ramped up for many of us during restricted pandemic conditions. Once we tired of bread making and Netflix binges and being unable to wear anything but buffet pants, many of us got contemplative; involuntary monks in retreats that needed dusting.

As a storyteller I listen a lot and try to see the funny in the foibles and fairy-tales of everyday living. We tell ourselves whatever we need to in order to get from place to place,between frustrations and surprises, for better or worse. Case in point : “I will eat this last cookie, in addition to the two I just had, because it would be silly to put the bag back in the cupboard with just one cookie left.” Please tell me it’s not just me....

Rules of comportment have changed a lot in the last year and we have been more often confronted with the quirks of our own company. We examine the world through a lens of a necessarily more domestic perspective, noticing the dust dinosaurs under the bookshelf from our horizontal couch-lolling, seeing the cobwebs near the ceiling, remembering that we’d promised to freshen the cupboards with a coat of paint, and scrolling, scrolling, scrolling the hours away.

There are things I promised myself last November that I would spend the Winter doing; among them squats my own personal elephant-in-the-living-room; the actual work of assembling/organising some of my writing for publication. I have promised myself this every Autumn for the last 4 years, maybe more. Not following up has absolutely nothing to do with the pandemic and everything to do with the mixed messages in my early brain-wiring that I have managed until now to avoid reconciling. No, I am not blaming my parents for my failures; but I am finally acknowledging that they inadvertently gave me a puzzlement of fears to figure my way through. Analysis paralysis. That particular writing assignment is way overdue. I guess I have to start somewhere.

My parents, both born pre-Depression grew up in financial poverty, in families that strove to keep them fed and sheltered rather than striving for the sake of striving itself. Neither finished school because it was just not a priority next to taking on some responsibility for keeping the families basic needs of living met. They were taught to keep their heads down and noses-to-the-grindstone, to never think of aspiring beyond their “station” in life or if they did, to keep it to themselves. Which I think they did. I don’t recall either of them ever talking about having dreams for themselves except in the most self-deprecating or pipe-dreaming kind of manner, as if dreams were to be sloughed off, abandoned to the past, along with childhood.

So I grew up the eldest child of two very hard-working people whose attitudes combined in a united defensive front against those they’d been taught to believe were their “betters”; people like academics, doctors, and politicians. People of means, likely inherited. People of power and influence, genetically programmed to screw the little guy. Seriously.

I was a dreamer from the get-go. I had a hearty imagination fuelled by a belief in magic and a natural disinclination to follow the rules, a deeply curious little kid who had a knack for remembering and a sense of wonder at the world itself. My parents, like most of their generation were more concerned that I be prepared for harsh reality than for questioning the status quo. I too was to work hard, keep my head down, and not entertain any real ambition for fear of life beating it out of me. They both knew how to laugh and were not without creativity, but all of it was directed and drained off in matters of pure practicality.

Mixed messages have dogged me ever since, though I have long been of an age where I know it is my responsibility to unravel things for myself. Distilled, the messages that I carry are as follows: from Dad it was “who the hell do you think you are with your book-learning and big words? You think you are better than us? The hell you are!” And from Mum it was: “Well, good for you, but don’t get used to success because it doesn’t ever last.” Both attitudes came from fear, his from being usurped or found wanting and hers from being afraid of serial disappointment. Translated in my brain, those echoing, looping messages have kept me from believing it is okay to just take a grand leap of faith in myself. Good lord, what if I fail and embarrass us all?! The child in my brain wrestles with the adult who logically knows there are no guarantees either way, but that to do nothing is also futile.

I am a storyteller. My maternal grandparents were too. I read from a very young age and made up my own stories, even inventing a couple of imaginary friends to take along on my adventures. In school, I loved to read and write and went through systematic progressive phases of writing poetry and one-act plays and folk songs and short fiction. As an adult, I have written as therapy, for myself and for others of my generation who can relate to the things we all go through but I am willing to write and often laugh about. Writing is confession, and community, and collective consciousness. For me it’s most often spontaneous, off-the-cuff riffs about flushed car keys and public prat falls. Stories are how I make sense of the World, as well as the world of possibility. I write, I send it out like a flimsy paper airplane and hope it doesn’t crash too soon.

This past Winter I was all set to organise the many musings that I have blurted out on Facebook, in my blog, as a result of writing groups and workshops and the encouragement of kind readers. I wanted to prepare for publication a collection of mostly lighthearted observational spit-takes and rim-shots. But I didn’t do it. Every time I sat down, I would find a distraction to wander towards instead of the focus I needed to cobble my pieces (literal and figurative) together. I have watched friends publish works over the past two years and been so very proud and thrilled for them, admiring of and inspired by what they have done. Yet, I seem paralyzed in my own attempts. They tell me this is quite normal, this abject terror of imposter-ing, of discovering that I am just not any good at what I love so much that it is a significant part of my identity and therefore too personal to withstand the possibility of repeated wounds of rejection.

Possibility. It’s a double-edged sword of a word if ever there was one. We could fall. Or we could fly. The net between the two is full of holes.

I hear the words again; “who do you think you are?” and “don’t get used to it” and they stop me in my tracks, they burst the shiny pink bubble of joy that comes with delicious combinations of sounds and ideas, and I drop to the ground in a heap, feeling simply foolish, embarrassed to be caught dreaming. But I am a big girl, and I know full well that the real joy is in the doing, and the real fear is in the letting go...in sending those bubbles of joyous play and pondering out to fend for themselves in a world where most are shot out of the sky with a sharp stone from the slingshot of publishers simply trying to dig through a constant avalanche of submissions to find their own diamond..a money-maker that will keep the rent paid and the doors open. It’s really just a different degree of striving isn’t it?

I don’t ever expect to make much money from writing, although between copy-writing and biographies, I do make some. I would like to find the guts to write one really good book made up of many quirky little parts, something that other people could enjoy and relate to. (Yes,I’d settle for a bathroom book.)The very best part for me about telling a story are the stories that other people tell in response..that lovely, luscious, leveller of hearing “me too!” makes me feel like I’ve accurately described our human-ness. It’s that thing connects us all.

I’ve read lots advice from writers I admire...all the bits about getting my ass into a chair and just DOING it, letting a good editor chip the mud away from the motherlode, and suspending self-criticism in deference to those people paid to do it as their part of the journey toward publication. I have researched the publishers who accept the kind of work I think I write (that definition is hard!) and I have several versions of my elevator-pitch all ready to go. I have a ton of material to be shaped, and another ton in my head yet to be written down. What I am currently working on, the linchpin to all the rest, is courage. And perhaps a refresh button on my discipline. I really want to do this in spite of and perhaps to some degree, because of those old worn thin mixed messages. Wish me well.

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inmyarmswrappedin · 4 years

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DRUCK reactions - s4 ep1

Ages ago I said I wanted to write meta about Cris’ and Matteo’s seasons, so of course, when I finally sit down to write reactions to a Skam remake, it’s about Amira instead.

A few weeks back I was composing tumblr posts in bed before falling asleep (my number 1 hobby lol) when it struck me that the writing for Amira’s season was really… indefensibly bad. So let’s stroll down through memory lane and revisit Druck s4, or how to throw away your potential because you have to put out this season before summer is over!

CLIP 1: Dark clouds over Winterberg

Obviously I’m writing these with the benefit of hindsight, but I will try and incorporate what my initial reaction to a clip was whenever I can remember.

Sometime between the Abiball episode and episode 32, I argued (on twitter) that the Abiball special was the Abiball episode instead, the first episode of Amira’s season. It would thus introduce us to the conflicts and characters that would take place during Amira’s season. I thought that in addition to the obvious Amira/Mohammed, Carlos/Kiki/Essam would be important, Kiki’s family life would be important, Stefan would be important, and David/Matteo would probably not be important as they seemed to be doing just fine in their scenes.

I didn’t think Mia/Alex would be important because I didn’t actually watch their clip lol. The Winterberg stans on my twitter orbit thought the clip was cute and nothing to worry about. That should’ve been my first clue that the (twitter) stan habit of repeating the “we never lose” mantra doesn’t make for great viewing comprehension, because watching the clip, it’s so obvious that shit is gonna go down lol.

Mia moves from one of the flat share’s bathrooms to the other because they never really recreated Mia’s room in the s3 flat share.

I still haven’t watched Mia’s episode, so I don’t know how all this stuff is going to get resolved, but it seems like Mia doesn’t think they can handle a LDR, and Alex is picking up on those vibes hard. I guess I don’t really get why Mia is so pessimistic about it because at that age I kinda thought a few months break weren’t really an obstacle. (Not sure if it would help me to watch Mia’s season, because this seems like a wholly new conflict.)

Anyway, Alex acts sweet/reassuring (I really like how soft spoken everyone is in this episode), so Mia puts it out of her mind for now. But Idk, they haven’t really spoken about the elephant in the room.

CLIP 2: Don’t call them the chastest evak ever again

Tbh this clip comes across as a direct rebuttal to all the s3 commentary about David and Matteo seeming like they’re not into each other, or like they aren’t ~passionate~ like the other evaks.

It’s like, “these gremlins are horny on main, now shut up.”

But I like that they’re fully dressed, like yes, you can show physical intimacy without undressing your teen actors (shade fully intended).

I love Lukas von Horbatschewsky’s hair and I’m very jealous of Matteo in this sequence, lmao.

Luis Sepúlveda died of coronavirus this year, in Spain. You’re welcome for that bit of 2020 misery dripping onto this cute clip.

I do think David feels guilty that he may have caused Matteo to fail his Spanish exam because of David’s own issues, which I think is very on brand for David. Obviously it wasn’t his fault.

I really like how soft spoken everyone is in this episode, 2X.

And this has been said a million times by now, but David and Matteo are the one evak version where they’re the same age (Joana is in the same year as Cris, but is a year older, so she must’ve gotten held back at some point). So it’s funny, and possibly a reference to Isak and Even, to see David talking about what it’d be like if they had that age difference. Like, maybe David would be more like Even in behavior! And, going by Matteo’s reaction, he wouldn’t be into that.

This clip really feels like the ending to Matteo and David. They’ll go on a road trip, they’ll work on David’s movie, they’ll be around, but this clip is their conclusion. They both feel secure and content in their relationship, and ready for everything that’s to come.

Like I said on the post about Cris and Joana, I like that David and Matteo don’t have further issues. And while I have tons of issues with Druck s4, which I will be talking about forever in the following posts, I never had an issue with how they deployed Matteo or David. (Okay, self. Now say that again without crying about David’s season that should have been.)

Fucking David cutting their make out short only to then say such a highkey flirty, romantic thing to Matteo though. No wonder Matteo’s like, “STOP, I’M SUPPOSED TO STUDY.”

CLIP 3: A challenger appears!

I like the fanon that David is a healthy eater (or at least in comparison to Matteo), because all we ever see David eat of his own volition (i.e. not food that was made for him) is candy.

God, I love Kiki snatching David’s fruity gummies out of his hands. It makes me laugh every time, particularly how she demands to know if the candy is vegan.

Hanna looks beautiful. ;_;

There’s a split second when Jonas is about to give Hanna that box where David looks alarmed in the background. In my mind he’s all, “Bro, no. Not a public proposal. Reel it back in, bro!”

And then, to the surprise of Jonas and all the viewers, we find out that not only are Jonas and Hanna not together, but Hanna is dating German Arthur. Again, in “fandom refuses to acknowledge storyline conflict until it’s staring right at them” news, Stefan had actually been introduced via an audio to Hanna the day before, but people were convinced it was Hanna’s dad. Whose actor they called just to record an audio. Clearly.

My belief at this point was that Stefan would be relevant to Amira’s storyline, but instead it was just a way to give Hanna her own episode. 🤡

Matteo’s transformation into Michi is complete by donning his grandpa hat.

He also makes to trip David for no real reason. Throwback to Unter Wasser.

Matteo saying Inshallalalah in a sing song voice is cute, but so annoying.

Matteo Florenzi: He’s a pain in the ass, but we love him.

CLIP 4: I guess Abdi and Axel picked up his grades at another point

I love the way Matteo grabs David’s head to pull him along. They’re so cute and I’m gonna enjoy every second.

Jonas also grabs Hanna along, because fans needed to be further confused as to what was happening with Hanna and Stefan and Jonas.

Thank you, Druck, for telling me Kiki’s and Amira’s grades, but as you can understand, that’s nowhere near enough to satisfy my curiosity and I will be needing to know everyone’s GPA because that is the kind of thing that’s important to me. What about it!!!

I think, going by how impressed Mia is, that Mia’s grade isn’t as good as Amira’s. Which I think is a neat detail, since the Nooras are kind of supposed to be the perfect girls. I like that Amira is even better than Mia at school.

I thought the concept of Carlos failing his final exam and maybe realizing school wasn’t his thing would’ve been an interesting storyline to explore, but I’m not mad that it didn’t happen. Hopefully Druck will touch on it with the next kids.

And we’re now treated to three reveals about Kiki. Kiki has a sister (now she has two), she likes the idea of moving out and living with Carlos, and her mom isn’t doing well.

The remakes trying to develop their Vildes past s4 make sense to me. By the end of Skam, Vilde clearly was the character who’d been the most robbed of a season, there were several potential storylines to do with her. Financial instability, alcoholic mom, eating disorders, plus it seemed obvious that any season taking place during the girls’ russetide should go to her. And that’s without getting into Vilde’s strong denial that she was a lesbian.

So the remakes are sitting on all these potential storylines, but as we now know, they can’t make their own Vilde season.

And from a European TV exec’s point of view, Vilde (who in every version is a white, skinny, ostensibly straight girl) is a very safe main after the gay and Muslim seasons.

Cue the LITTLE SISTER.

I get why people are fed up with the Vildes’ prominence in the remakes that are in their latter stages, but at the same time we got 8 versions of Noora’s season, most of which are a limpdicked enemies to lovers story with a misguided sexual assault storyline tacked at the end. (And I say misguided because after a strong start, it’s mostly about what William will think, how William will react, I can’t tell William about this, etc.) So in my case, I’ve had quite enough Noora to last me a lifetime, but my Vilde thirst has only begun to be quenched.

Tangent over, Kiki lies that she’s not going to the lake because she’s going to check on Carlos. Bad form, Kiki.

CLIP 5: Graduation (Friends Forever).mp3

In clown news, I predicted there’d be a clip between the Kiki stuff and the actual dance (maybe a Sam clip), as it seemed to me there wasn’t much of a connection between Kiki looking sad on that ping pong table and PARTY TIME. Lol at me.

And speaking of clowning, while I thought the Abiball episode was part of s4, I also thought that was fine because it was just doing the multi POV episode in the beginning of the season rather than at the end, right? Wrong.

As much as it would’ve been great if Sam and Abdi had storylines pertaining to racism and islamophobia (whether Abdi is or isn’t a Muslim, people would probably assume he is), I also have to admit… This conversation is hilarious.

“I want to have intercourse with you.” [glass breaks in the background]

Abdi closing his speech with a wide smile gvvhvh.

The first hundred times I watched this scene, I thought Alex seemed a bit alarmed at the conversation taking place, but really… We’re back to stone-faced Alex lol.

Don’t kill me, but I feel a little bad for Abdi in this moment. He really put himself out there and Sam just leaves without giving him an answer, yikes. I actually got tired of Abdi’s sad sackiness during the season, but right now I feel for him. L

There’s this smile Jonas sometimes directs at dudes (like Alex here) that makes me think… Bi. He also directs it at Matteo in s3.

Ugh.

There’s a parallel universe where Stefan was the villain of Amira’s season, and it would’ve been a much more interesting season than the one we got.

Because Stefan is a bit of a Darth Jonas. He works for Greenpeace, but, at least in this scene, seems a bit full of himself, and like… twisting the knife in a way that feels like it has to be intentional. And it would’ve been so interesting if Druck had tackled the white dudes who seem like they’re not going to be assholes about Muslims, but then turn around and say some shocking garbage. I’m sure we’ve all met a guy like that before.

In my mind, Stefan would’ve driven a wedge between Hanna and Amira, which would’ve been way more compelling than what we got, but on the other hand, it probably would’ve made fandom people hate Hanna, and people outside of fandom hate Amira.

Anyway, tag teaming gays! I love how David and Matteo share a look and immediately take care of both Jonas and Stefan.

I also love it when David looks murderous. It looks good on him.

But I feel like this didn’t go anywhere? Like, Matteo always hated Stefan and continued hating Stefan until the finale. In this scene, David seems to dislike Stefan just as much, but it’s not a thread they bother following. It’s too bad because I think Matteo and David together sabotaging Stefan is a lot funnier than just Matteo doing it.

I love how soft spoken Amira is when telling Essam not to show up at her graduation party. I would’ve been a lot less polite lmao.

You know, I actually thought Kiki was genuine here when she said she wasn’t a fan of competitions. Obviously that’s not the Kiki we’ve known until this point, but like, I thought it was meant to show character development on her part, But we’ll talk about THAT more in the following episodes.

Matteo fully blames their win on David being so hot, mysterious and new, and it’s hilarious because that’s also what initially drew him to David. Like, “fuck you for being so hot!”

I thought it was such a nice detail that they brought back the girl from the refugee classes in s1. We’re saying goodbye to all these school people who are going on their own post high school journeys without us!

In my mind, Abdi and Alex are talking about something completely serious, like, I don’t know, Abdi’s dad wanting him to study business and Alex advising Abdi on the best business schools in Berlin or something.

I feel like Hanna is the one girl in the squad who really doesn’t feel ready for post high school life and I HATE the writers so much for how they wrapped her character up, but we’ll save that for later.

I could watch Matteo passing the tiara (=the main) to Amira forever. The way he tips his hat and looks like even he’s a little surprised that he (a character like him!) was ever the lead on a teen show, David’s voice asking Matteo if he’s coming, Matteo leaving with David to live happily ever after, the initial notes of Just Got Paid as Amira looks at nighttime Berlin. This meme is overdone by now, but THE POETIC CINEMA.

Jonas glaring at romantic rivals at end of year dances is iconic at this point.

Amira being tagteamed by an annoying little brother AND a well-meaning, embarrasing older brother. Choose your own nightmare.

I really love the set up for the Essam/Kiki/Carlos conflict. The emotional potential is SO good because on one hand you have Kiki, who wants to have a good time for once instead of parenting her own parent, then Carlos whose self-esteem is on the floor after having failed his final exam, and Essam, whose own sense of self-worth hinges upon whether white German girls find him attractive. Like, obviously Essam is never going to come between Kiki and Carlos who have been through some shit together, but with Carlos out of commission and Essam eager to please, you can see how the situation could so easily turn into a mess.

Amira and Mohammed have the most sexual tension out of any Yousana pair, period. They literally just said hi to each other and I already feel like I’m intruding gvhvhv.

Social media

David saying of Matteo: “Er bekommt Auslauf.” (Something like, “he gets walkies” because he’s been good with revising) is the cutest shit ever.

Remember when Stefan sent Jonas a whole ass message and signed it “with sunny greetings”? Stefan was much more fun when we were supposed to find him unbearable.

Kiki creating a new Whatsapp group for every single thing is so true to life.

I’d forgotten that Amira also hated Stefan almost right away. The season that could’ve been, I tell you.

All the Abi Chaker Clan content reminds me of how I thought Jonas looked like, well, such a child, compared to Stefan, and I thought that was intentional. Like, here is Stefan with a Greenpeace job whereas Jonas doesn’t know what to do with his life, and he’s like, spray-painting abi chaker clan onto walls and posting pics to the abi chaker clan account. It’s not that I thought Jonas should’ve acted like a whole ass adult, of course he’s having fun with his high school friends, but I thought Jonas might feel inadequate in comparison to where Stefan is at this point of his life.

I can’t remember who revealed it, but Sara was supposed to end up with Toilet Sam and that was supposed to come out during the s3 finale (on that week, Sara posted a story with a guy whose face was obscured iirc). Since that was part of the clip where Hanna and Jonas also got back together, which they cut to make way for Hanna/Jonas/Stefan drama, Sara takes some other dude to the Abiball. And I think we’re supposed to think that’s the same dude she went on that date with.

#druck #these are very heavily inspired by lightsandlostbells' format btw!#in case you wanted to check her out #about druck

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jewpacabruhs · 5 years

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bruv im still jus. wow. theres so much to say but. do u kno how good it feels... to be jewish, to accidentally fixate on one eric cartman & love him more than any other fictional character for almost seven years now, and then to see him in a little yarmulke, standing at kyle's side while he recites from the torah? do you know how validating that is?

i gotta get personal for a second here. idk how, but in the last few yrs my relationship with my own jewishness has been deeply influenced and intertwined with south park, as ironic and ridiculous as that sounds. i grew up secular, completely nonpracticing; as a child, i was only ethnically jewish, and saw jews as strictly an ethnicity, and a popularly hated one to boot. and it scared me. ive talked about it before, but as a child hearing about the shoah and about antisemitism, i couldn't understand. i thought it was looks for a while, which confused me, because ive got blonde hair and blue eyes and all my family that got caught up in nazi europe did/do too. i remember thinking as a second grader that i would've been spared for that reason; why didn't a good chunk of my family? but i grew up in a mormon neighborhood, with plenty of other blonde kids, and they stayed away from me like i had a disease. this was before puberty, before my hair got a little frizzier and my nose got a little bigger, when i looked just like any of them. but already, at age 8, i was an outsider. i wasn't one of them and i never would be, and they wanted me to know that.

and then i started to get it. it clicked even more once i got to high school and got called a kike every other day - but prior to high school, you know what i found, and you know what really pushed me towards understanding what being a secular jew in america meant? south park. and as a dumb little sixth grader with no critical thinking skills, you know what shaped my opinions on my own people? south park.

and that's good and bad. good because i do sincerely think kyle broflovski is excellent fictional representation for jewish people, maybe one of the top few ever shown on television. he gets on my nerves at times, but he's good through and through, he's well written and multi-dimensional, he's not a walking stereotype but he still has prominent jewish features that jewish viewers can look at and see in themselves, his morals and viewpoints and beliefs are obviously deeply influenced by judaism, hes deeply proud of his heritage and culture... and that all means a lot to me. and by the amount of jewish sp fans that adore kyle, it means a lot to them too.

the bad thing is, yeah, i can't deny it, during older seasons, cartman's treatment of kyle probably taught a lot of young and dumb viewers how to view jews in real life. have i, as a kyman shipper and cartman stan, justified that within a fictional and narrative context? yes. but it doesn't change the real-world effect; south park, but specifically cartman, since he's the mouthpiece, likely did cause some easily-influenced people to pick up antisemitic beliefs. did this contribute to the rise of the alt-right? debatable, but to some extent, possibly. was that m&t's intention and should south park be canceled and denounced? fuck no, i'll always love it lol, and fuck censorship. but it is something that should be taken into account.

matt and trey clearly regret that, and understand that it's no longer acceptable or fitting or needed in today's sociopolitical climate - or, okay, maybe they don't even regret it; they just understand that when fiction becomes reality, the fictional jackass isn't necessary when there's one right there in real life, sitting in the oval office, yeah? old cartman doesn't deserve or need a voice, not when real, awful people actually have one right now. and m&t are actively trying to change cartman for the better and really, really backpedal on his bigotry, while still doing it in a way that makes sense from a story-telling perspective. it's not a complete uncharacteristic change of character; it's shifting with the times and writing it into the character's arc so that it's a logical and plausible development in cartman's story.

cartman's behavior in the last few seasons is consistent character development. m&t themselves are pushing it, and clearly it's sincere; cartman's not faking. unless they're building up a surprise twist over the last, what, three to four seasons, that he was faking the whole time! woah! if so it better be a damn good pay off, because that's a lot of time invested. though that seems more forward-thinking than sp tends to be. they're intentionally stuck in the short-term, aren't they? plot-wise. but their character development is pretty long-term, and right now, cartman is consistently decent, and if it comes across as faking, it's because cartman's over-dramatic in how he speaks, and trey does that intentionally.

that's a tonal thing, and it's hard to say in a fictional character, but as someone who struggles with empathy myself, empathy and sincerity don't go hand in hand. you can lack empathy while still caring enough to sincerely and wholeheartedly apologize for something and mean that apology. not feeling remorse doesn't mean you can't apologize genuinely; the two don't go hand in hand. you can be mentally ill in any capacity, even a psychopath, and still deeply care about things or people, just not in the way someone else might. so you can headcanon that cartman's still a psycho/sociopath, though right now that's actually kinda going against canon, but don't rain on other's parades if they're happy he's exhibiting healthy growth. besides, and i repeat: what could cartman exploit out of faking sincerity for several seasons? nothing, so why bother? he wouldn't, unless it's literal in-show subconscious growth.

does that mean he's magically developed empathy? no. is it becoming less probable he's a legitimate sociopath/psychopath (while still possibly having better-disguised antisocial tendencies)? yes. does he seem to have better coping or anger management skills? somehow, yes! he seems to be legitimately healthier. does this mean he's no longer accountable for his past misdeeds, and even his present, less-severe ones? of course not! and you can still hate him all you want, but modern cartman is not the same as older cartman, and shouldn't be treated as such. because is this growth? absolutely.

he's clearly healthier, even happier. he's less angry, he's still a little shit but he no longer relies on bigotry or cruelty or anger to get the negative attention he thrives off, rather he gravitates towards being simply annoying. you know why he called ice? pettiness, immaturity, a little bit of spite, and a need for silly revenge. he's being intentionally petty, but going about it in a sly but no longer psychopathic way. less hannibal lector and more, idk, regina george, lol. extremely different on the antagonist scale. and cartman's been both.

and maybe it's personal bias on what type of human is worse within fiction, someone unstable and bizarre with violent tendencies (which is how he's come to be viewed in pop culture & some of the fandom, as a result of eps like scott tenorman must die), versus someone inclined towards pettiness and more silent and, i dunno, social-status-and-pride-driven types of revenge (cartman in general when he's not being particularly awful, tbh)... but i think it'd be pretty universally agreed that the latter is at the very least more tolerable, manageable, and even likeable - and certainly more redeemable. let's put it this way; if cartman continued on the path he was on, he'd be one of those tiki holding fucks, wearing a confederate flag hat, and he'd treat kyle soooo much worse. instead, m&t have turned him into a hypocritical false-woke ignorant dumbass - but that's strongly less problematique than it's counterpart, and it works.

because cartman simply serves a different narrative purpose now. and that's not sloppy writing; it's well-timed evolution of a character that stepped into a pre-9/11, pre-trump, pre-social media world! so much has changed, and south park is reflecting that in its characters, most notably in a character who was stuck in the, what, 1960s with his beliefs? that was fine way back when, but matt&trey are smart dudes - they understand that sometimes things have to change. besides, they love cartman, too. he's their favorite. but they understand that when real people act like him, it's not so comedic or satirical or funny, & they don't want to look at cartman, at their creation who they've invested twenty-two years in, and see the all-too-real hate of modern radical white america.

i think we know enough about matt&trey's social stances these days, and the empathy they've seemed to develop after having kids, to understand that they're no longer in their "apathy is best, everyone is stupid" phase. current south park is left-leaning and admittedly preachy at times, but i wouldn't want it any other way. g-d knows it's better this way than if they'd embraced and decided to appeal to their right-libertarian following instead. cartman's evolved in a progressive and positive way, and it's fucking dope, especially to us cartman stans who so badly want him to be good. and he is good right! he's doing so good!

and i know im up my own ass rn but yall know how much i myself have campaigned for jewish kyman/cartman and how much i just deeply and truly adore it, and to see it actualized in a canon episode to some extent? that meant the world to me. i couldn't believe my eyes. i was tellin lai - that's the most genuine, pure, almost violent happiness ive felt in my soul in years. that was like a straight shot of serotonin to the heart. that simple little scene made me so fucken happy yall dont even know. & theres a lot to be said about the political commentary and plenty of other people are analyzing that, but im a simple jewish kyman & cartman stan and boy ive been fed good fjskfkdkdkfk!!!

#in other news #sickly jew shay had her vision white out at school today and almost fell down the stairs #my grandpa has been given a week to live #AND the anniversary of the most important person in my life's death is approaching #and i turn fucking 19 soon and i always have birthday crisises #so fucken superb!#in happier news family guy airs soon and it's unfortunately still a fixation of mine so im unjustly excited #lissen stewie's worn a yarmulke twice in fg canon and i cried then #i love cartman approximately... 50x more than stewie jus bc of longevity and. nostalgia and favoritism #i was in legitimate hysterics #sp continues to be my light at the end of the tunnel jfkskf #mine #txt #sp spoilers #theres so much here im sorry i ramble sm #i struggle w wordz and usin em ironically

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quartusbellum-blog · 6 years

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SAMPLE APPLICATION

As promised, here is my application for the role of Marcus McKinnon. A couple notes before you read it: this app is not to be used as a guide on how to fill in the application. Every writer is different. I seem to favour long drabbles and bios in my own writing, but quantity is not a measure of quality, so you do you. It is purely an insight into how I plan to play Marcus. Secondly, any background information about Marlene and the McKinnon family can be adjusted to suit any Marlene players.

ooc details

Name: Elva

Age: Twenties

Pronouns: She/her, they/them

Activity Level: I check the dash daily, and aim to post at least one reply a day. Obviously there’s the odd day where I don’t manage that, but that is what I strive for as a bare minimum. I’ll be doing mod duties as well, but there should be plenty of time for interactions.

Other: No triggers, but I will be mindful of other players’ triggers and tag accordingly. This application requires content warnings for: death, murder, racism, bigotry.

Acknowledgement: I acknowledge that the themes of this game may include triggering elements. I also acknowledge that my character may be harmed, coerced, or even killed (with player’s consent) during paras/events or may cause harm to or kill others during paras/events.

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general ic details

Name: Marcus McKinnon

Age: 19

Ships: I’m not going to lie, I would love to see Marcus in a relationship because he would be so spectacularly bad at it. He needs roadmaps for everything, but romantic and/or sexual attachments would throw him way off.

Gender/Pronouns: Queer cisgender male, he/him pronouns.

Face Claim: Noah Centineo.

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biography:

Marcus McKinnon is the kind of person who would never travel without a guidebook. He likes to plan out his whole itinerary, marking spots along the map so he always knows where he’s going and if he’s on track. It’s like he needs external permission before following a certain road. Even as a child, the youngest of the McKinnon children, he wouldn’t wander off the paths cut into the fields and dive into the tall grass after Marlene and their older brother, Matthew. There’s something comforting about routines and familiarity. It keeps Marcus’ grounded. Like if he just follows the rules and does what he’s supposed to, he’ll get where he needs to be.

It’s probably why Marcus finds the act of swimming so thrilling. Growing up near the coastline, Marcus equates the cry of seagulls and thick salty air with home. But he wasn’t always fond of the water. Marcus learned to swim in public pools, and the first time he was taken to the sea, it took his mother a full morning to coax him in. But once he was in to his waist, then his shoulders, letting his feet slip away from the seabed and the water carry him, Marcus couldn’t get enough. In the water there are no paths to walk. The rules are different, no ground beneath your feet, only invisible currents, the kiss of the tide on sand as it draws in then bids it farewell again. It’s one of the few instances in which Marcus can let go and just exist in the moment, no thought for what comes next beyond the setting sun or wind picking up; just the elements and him, water warm against his skin, and his own muscles burning as he swims, proving himself a worthy match for the sea.

Needless to say, Marcus isn’t fond of surprises. At school, he would ask numerous questions before any important assignment or exam, feeling blindsided when the homework proved too difficult. He was never a particularly good student. His anxiety made it hard to concentrate, the information hard to take in, and in his frustration Marcus found it easier to simply slack off altogether. He turned to his Hufflepuff peers for permission or approval rather than teachers. Marcus never went his own way, never paved a path of his own. Not until war came knocking and he had to.

Marlene and Matthew had fought in the Order, while Marcus was merely grateful he didn’t have to; grateful that school kept him safe. Then he graduated, and the world rapidly descended into chaos. Dumbledore captured, the Ministry taken over, the Order hunted. His parents, Matthew, and Marlene, all murdered by vampires in Voldemort’s service. Marlene survived in the end, but not before Marcus watched her die like the others. Now she’s a sister who feeds off humans; who fed off him. Marcus loves her, would do anything for her. But she walks a path he wishes never to join her on.

Two weeks after losing their family, Marcus split from Marlene. He didn’t want to live as a fugitive, always running for his life, never knowing what tomorrow might bring. And though he didn’t admit it to Marlene, he didn’t want to live with werewolves and vampires, even if they weren’t the ones who killed their family. He wanted to go home. He wanted back in magical Britain. And so Marcus persuaded Marlene it was where he would be most useful, that he would gather information for the Radical Alliance but he couldn’t live with them. He returned to magical Britain where he was promptly arrested and interrogated by Death Eaters at the Ministry, but being a halfblood who showed little resistance, a mere boy grieving for his lost loved ones, repellent but no real threat, he was pardoned on the condition that he serve the Dark Lord faithfully for the remainder of his days. Only a few weeks later, Marcus’ arm was tattooed with the Dark Mark.

It was a mistake, or so Marcus had thought in the first weeks after his return. His parents’ resistance to the Dark Lord--their shame, as it was remembered-- and Marlene and Matthew’s involvement in the Order; everyone seemed to know Marcus’ history, and as a consequence many refused to hire him. Nevermind that he was marked and that he walked with Death Eaters. Marcus spent the first few months taking whatever job he could get, dishwasher, nightclub toilet cleaner, pet sitter to some of the biggest pesks in the world of magic, test subject for potioneers, sometimes even dinner for hungry vampires looking for a consenting victim. For a time he lived in the ruins of his old home, the burned down cottage by the sea. But as the winter came, it was leave or freeze to death. Marcus could have followed his family then, but between the familiar and the unknown, Marcus will always choose the familiar, and in this case that was life.

Marcus moved from one dingy apartment to another, always thrown out of at the drop of a hat, sofas of sort-of friends from whatever job he was working at the time, until finally, a room he rents on the third floor of a crooked building on a winding side-street just off Diagon Alley. Marcus has the Malfoys to thank for that. They’d been trying to recruit him for some time, halfblood Marcus, just needy and gullible enough to let himself be preyed upon, still intelligent and attractive enough to be worth their time. It was the hope of his name on a lease that finally persuaded him to join the Silent Daggers. He needed help and they were offering it in the form of a recommendation for the position of Wizengamot Administrator. Marcus can finally afford a steady life, but it all hinges on his loyalty to the Malfoys. They haven’t tried to exploit his position yet, but Marcus has seen too much cruelty to think they did it out of sheer kindness. And yet it saved him, giving him a home, (a place for Marlene to run to if she’s ever desperate,) an income, something resembling a life even if it doesn’t feel like one, the hole left behind by his family’s murders too big and all-encompassing. Marcus owes them.

He feels stretched thin, his allegiances pulled between the Dark Lord whose mark he bears, Narcissa and Lucius he’s sworn to, and Marlene. Marcus has no map for this life. It died with his parents and Matthew and all the other victims of the first war. But Marcus needs one. Maps don’t just show Marcus where to go. They show him how to get back.

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my character is:

Please Describe a Belief your character has that is wrong. Alternatively: How is your character lying to themselves (and how is is it shown externally).

Marcus is kidding himself that he went back and joined the Death Eaters for Marlene. In his arguments, he emphasised how much good he could do from the inside. But Marcus’ reasons were more selfish than he will let himself believe. He’s afraid of Marlene, as he’s afraid of all vampires. The fact that they’re related and that he’s known her all his life doesn’t change that; he feels safer in the Death Eaters than in the Radical Alliance, because they’re not known vampires. This is partly PTSD, and partly racism, but either way, Marcus can’t be around the Radical Alliance long before the scar on his shoulder, a bite from Marlene he acquired the night she turned, begins to itch, then ache, until all Marcus can think about are those fangs, his dead family lying in the grass. Marcus doesn’t want to be like this, but he can’t overcome it without facing up to it first.

Please Provide a description of Your Character’s Job.

Wizengamot Administrator. Since leaving Hogwarts and the tragedy that befell him afterwards, Marcus’ main ambition has been to stay alive, and to remain in the wizarding world as long as possible. To get a flat of his own, earn enough to pay the bills, and if he can feed himself too, even better. None of that was possible for long before the Malfoys became a common presence in his life. Marcus knows he owes it to them. Lucius and Narcissa might be tactful but the message is clear; he’s in their debt. Marcus doesn’t know when he’ll be expected to pay up, and for now, he lets himself enjoy the small comforts, food in his belly, a roof over his head, a bed instead of some moth-eaten sofa, quiet. He is an Administrator in the Wizengamot Administration Services, meaning he carries out the secretarial work for the Wizengamot, maintaining court documents, scheduling hearing dates, managing the Wizengamot members’ schedules and carrying out the administration of all legal proceedings. In this position at the Ministry, Marcus is well-situated to one day study to be a solicitor, but he’s already pretty valuable as an administrator. More than once, Marcus has been asked to reveal to the other Daggers what information has crossed his desk. He is also in a position to corrupt information, though as of yet Marcus has yet to be asked to do so, nor had the nerve to take that initiative himself. For not only might his position benefit the Silent Daggers, but it could benefit the Radical Alliance too.

ooc questions

Writing Sample:

Marcus breathed on his fingers, rubbing his palms together. His cloak was second-hand, threadbare, and beneath it he was shivering. He’d need a better one before long if he was going to keep being called out for long cold nights outside. Nights spent waiting, hunting, focusing on the task ahead to keep his thoughts from wandering; to dull the constant remembering.

A rattle from behind the bins made Marcus flinch. Never had he been stationed alone. Now that the Death Eaters didn’t operate in secret, now they were legitimate subjects carrying out their duty to society, they didn’t have to hide their intentions and could travel in packs. So where were they, whoever they were?

Every sound and shifting shadow caught Marcus’ attention. He couldn’t stand still; paced the length of the chained gates separating him from a humming train line. And he was cold. So cold.

His summons had arrived as soon as he sat down at his desk that morning, coal black paper folded into an airplane. It used the space bar of his typewriter as a landing strip. The message was simple: patrol duties, 8:00pm, Harrogate Train Station. Whether his mark burned due to some magic carried in the paper or because he’d simply imagined it, Marcus could never tell. He slid the paper into his pocket, where it felt like it was burning a hole through the fabric, he was persistently aware of it.

A train blasted through the platform behind him and all of a sudden he was reeled backwards, a gag spelled across his mouth. He drew his wand, but in the same second the spell dissolved and laughter filled his ears.

He threw the first curse that came to mind, the air exploding with a gush of water. It hovered in the air as it met a blocking spell, then dropped to the ground with a splash. White stars marred Marcus’ vision and he coughed.

“Evening, McKinnon.” Alecto Carrow stood before him, robes shining like satin under the streetlights. Everything about her made Marcus feel mocked.

“Are we back at Hogwarts now?” he asked, rubbing his lips with rough fingers. He spat on the ground. “Who are we waiting for?” As much as he didn’t enjoy his outings with Death Eaters like Carrow, he was glad to see her, and in her usual spirits. Any more time standing alone like that and he’d start to believe he had a bull’s eye on his back. His eyes slid past Carrow to a silhouette peeling away from the darkness, a man with ragged clothing, dirty skin, imperiused from the looks of him. And a werewolf, or at least associated with one, judging by the silver scars slashed across his face.

“Radical Alliance?” he asked through the roar of panic rising in his head. His mind strayed towards Marlene, hoping she was inside, and that she was safe; knowing that she wasn’t, even if she was a thousand miles from this town.

“Close enough.” Carrow whispered into the man’s ear. Marcus leaned forward hoping to catch a word. Nothing. The werewolf walked towards the gate, and begun to climb. When he tumbled onto the other side, he headed straight for the tracks. Then stopped. “Come along, McKinnon.” Carrow began to walk away.

“Wait.” Marcus’s grip on his wand tightened--sickly yellow sparks hissed from it’s tip. “You’re just going to leave him there? He’ll-- when a train comes...”

Carrow didn’t spare her victim another glance, turning around only to glare at Marcus. “Would you rather curse him dead?” After a moment’s silence, she let out a quiet scoff and kept walking. “We don’t have time for this, McKinnon. There are other wolves in Harrogate.”

Marcus turned to the tracks and the werewolf standing like a statue, eyes fixed ahead. A soft, dreamy expression held his face captive; if he knew deep down that something about this was amiss, his face didn’t betray him. It sickened Marcus, to see him so at peace. He stepped toward the tracks, but something stopped him from going all the way. Shove him off the tracks, he thought. Break his legs if you have to. Bones heal.

But the mark, his arm, branded forever; the cut, binding him to the Malfoys; his flat, the warmth of his bed, food in his fridge, a job, a life. It was a package deal. He couldn’t have one without the other.

“Smart boy,” Carrow said as he stepped into line beside her. Marcus could hear the smirk in her voice; that was how well he’d come to know her. And she him, apparently. She reached a hand towards his hair, knocking his hood off as she ran her fingers through it. Marcus jerked out of her reach, hatred boiling up inside him, and, with it, relief that at least it wasn’t him standing on those tracks staring death in the face.

Exploration:

One thing I’m always eager to explore in fiction is war and belonging to an army as a means to financially bettering one’s life. How political groups prey on vulnerable or desperate individuals to create destructive forces in society. Marcus was overwhelmed by his new circumstances. Those first few months when Marcus was utterly alone, desperate, and striving to return some normalcy in his life, define who he is today. He got a lucky break--but at what cost? Everything he does is to ensure he doesn’t go back to that.

There are things Marcus does to maintain his quality of life. And then there are the things he does because that’s the person he’s becoming. I’ve played Marcus as a wholesome and naive character, a member of the Order of the Phoenix. In this game, I would like to see how far Marcus will go as a Death Eater and a Silent Dagger. He’s currently lacking strong attachments to any one group, and he doesn’t possess a firm awareness of who he is. He’s in pain and he doesn’t know where to direct it. As such, he’s easy to manipulate. And he’s learning bad habits. This could lead him down an extremely dark path, which I would relish the opportunity to explore. But I would also like to explore the opposite side of this one. I would like to see Marcus forging attachments to conflicting individuals or groups. The messier the better. He doesn’t like surprises, but how does he handle the pleasant ones?

Marlene and sibling drama. This is part of the reason I chose Marcus, so I could get the sibling drama I so crave. I want siblings who squabble, but also fight their enemies together. I set up Marlene as an assassin type character, with a desire for vengeance. Does Marcus play any role in this, tipping her off to where her victims are? If he gets in trouble, would he ask for her help? What shape does their relationship take now that they’re both close acquaintances with death? I imagine that they’re closer than ever, being the only surviving McKinnons, but I want to see plenty of friction between these two. They are fighting for opposite groups after all, even though Marcus assures Marlene he keeps no secrets. They love each other, but do they trust each other?

The Silent Daggers are currently secret, and they’ll remain this way for a time, probably until we get more players. But I would rather like to see the Death Eaters split once and for all, with Voldemort completely out of the picture. What happens if Voldemort is undone, with the Silent Daggers standing at the ready? I’m not sure what all the pieces are yet, but I would like to see how the magical world is reshaped and groups merge, or dissolve, or fracture. It’s something I’ll be thinking about, at least.

Confronting his questionable attitude towards vampires. Marcus doesn’t think less of muggleborns, but his opinion of vamps is shaped by his experience, and its not exactly kind. What will happen when he discovers he’s been allied to a vampire all along? If he ever discovers Narcissa is more than just wix, Marcus will have to confront his false belief, and by extension his grief. It’s that latter part that means he doesn’t want to.

Extras:

Aesthetic: [ x ]

#quartusbellumaccept #marcus mckinnon bio

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kingofthenorth49 · 3 years

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the world as we thought we know it

Ed. Note -- As I wrote this blog this morning, yet another Ontario family is moving into my neighbourhood, escaping the clutches of a tyrannical woke Ontario (their words, not mine) for the peace of the east coast. I’m pretty sure when this all shakes out this town is going to be radically changed for years to come, but here’s to hoping. - Jim

I know, ya’ll think my tinfoil hat is on too tight these days. Maybe it is, and maybe that’s not a bad thing, but at this point does it even matter, we are watching a train wreck of epic proportions and no one seems to care. It’s like the words from Trooper’s Santa Maria, “But nobody moved, from where they were laying, cause nobody really cared”. I guess Netflix and Chill means more than I had thought.

I was watching (listening) to Scott Adams last evening as I do every few nights and for those who don’t know Scott, He’s the guy who draws Dilbert, and hosts a daily vlog (or whatever the kids are calling them these days) which I enjoy, as there are few left leaning types I can really listen too, and he’s one of the best. We don’t often agree, but the past few nights he and I have been in lockstep on a few things, and that’s very rare but interesting when it happens. Last night however it was something he said about midway through his podcast that really caught my attention. He started out by saying that as you get pulled “behind the curtain” (a showbiz reference I guess) you get to see/learn things that most of the world doesn’t, as if the elites really do run the world (hint: they do) and he teased the crowd by saying something to the effect that he learned something this week that’s bigger than any news story, something so large it would shift people’s minds completely. He went on to say that he couldn’t say what it was because they’d come after him, but that people should question more of what they see and hear. He framed it in the context that people would not even believe the truth if they heard it.

I agree 100%. I believe the average person on this planet now is so afraid, confused, and polarized that they don’t know which way is up, hell just the fact that the world rolled over so quickly makes me sad, but it wasn’t unexpected. We are weak, soft, entitled humans.

As much as you want to deny it, we are in the world’s largest Psyops experiment right now. Governments are pushing the boundaries of human endurance, and we are beginning to turn on one another, whether it’s for not wearing a government mandated facial shaming device when outside your home, or if your neighbours son, fresh home from out-of-province school is out on the patio on his tablet chatting with his best girl when he’s suppose to be self isolating in the basement chained to the wall and fed with a stick.

Disclaimer: Yes, it’s a particularly bad flu. Yes, people will die from it. Yes we should be cautious and prevent catastrophe.

Speaking of being cautious, what is up with the average person beating down their neighbours in the rush to get an experimental unapproved chemical concoction thrust into their arms? WTF dude?

I’ll never understand that mentality. Yes, vaccines save lives and can stop the spread of viruses. Yes vaccines form part of any strategy to manage a pandemic, but it’s just one part. The idea that people are lining up 9 months after a vaccine is started into development for a “new” coronavirus and calling for a mandate to compel every human to take this vaccine is absurd.

It’s madness.

First of all, the concoction they are jabbing into your arms at 0.5 mg/dose isn’t even technically a vaccine. The CDC states a vaccine is “a product that stimulates a Peron’s immune system to produce immunity to a specific disease. It also defines Immunity as part of the vaccination process to say you can be exposed to the disease without becoming infected.

The current “vaccines” do neither. You can still become sick, and you can still spread it, there are several examples from Washington State, Florida, and Pennsylvania right now where fully vaccinated individuals now have the Coronavirus.

So why get the jab if you can still get it (albeit not be as sick) but you can still spread it? Why are we on a full out campaign war on “getting the jab” followed closely by “vaccination passports”.

It’s about control. It’s about gaining your compliance when told to do something. It’s about stripping your freedoms away all the while you feel like you don’t need them anyway.

I posted a video on social media yesterday of a Pastor of a Calgary church on Good Friday telling a bunch of Calgary police to leave the property and not come back without a warrant. He was very passionate in his calls for them to leave, and believe me when I say that video made me feel great despite the insults he was hurling at my brother’s and sister’s who were sent there to bring justice to the community.

Watch the video, it does a heart good.

Why? Because we have something called the Bill of Rights, and despite the fact it’s “granted” by our “government” it’s the only thing that holds this country together under one set of guiding principles, and despite some doctors proclamation of doom and gloom, people have the right to practice religion, they have freedom of speech, and security of the person and property. Our forefathers fought and died for those rights and we should be a bit more like the Pastor in preserving them. He’s a Polish pastor, who knows what happens when a government is allowed to run unchecked and what happens to the population when it does, and he wasn’t having any of it.

But the more telling story isn’t his fire and brimstone sermon aimed at the poor police (I bet his Good Friday sermon was off the charts!), it was what the police did next.

They left. As Monty Python would sing with a minstrel or two, “They turned their tails and ran they did, they turned their tails and ran and hid). Sorry, but the police don’t just leave when a crime has been committed, or they feel a crime will be committed by the parties in question. He literally shouted them away. Why did they leave?

Likely for a couple reasons. One, they didn’t want to be there in the first place. They were following orders or were dispatched to the church because some politician or Karen felt there were too many people practicing their religion on the holiest of days in the church. Two, they knew there were no grounds to be there because of the recent court ruling that freed the other Alberta pastor who was jailed for holding religious services, remember him? In Canada we jail religious leaders.

Say that again real slow. In Canada, we jail human beings who bring comfort and relief to those who need it in the name of a higher power under a constitutionally protected provision of religious freedoms. Or at least we used to. Now we are no better than the backwater republics we shamed as the former leader of the free world.

So if they knew the courts were not going to support them, why bother? That’s a great question.

I’m not even a religious person, we had Chinese (am I allowed to say that?) food for supper Easter Sunday, but I will fight for your right to practice yours just as hard as I’ll fight against any government mandating forced vaccinations or passports against freedoms.

Over a year ago we were told it was 15-days to “bend the curve” to get back to the “new normal” and such and now look at us a year later at the hands of a government run amok led by over-jealous reality tv stars who haven’t the first clue how to govern and couldn’t stick a hot poker in a snow bank to save their lives.

Folks we are rolling over at an alarming rate and accepting the removal of our rights and freedoms under suspicious circumstances, and you can “tin foil hat” me all day long, I don’t care. Things don’t add up, there’s too many red flags flying and yet as a society we simply want to turn to those “in charge” and say “Please sir, may I have some more”.

They say you won’t miss it until it’s gone and I firmly believe this to be true, especially when it comes to things like mobility rights. Imagine now if they do require vaccinations before you can travel, work, shop etc., (especially ones that provide no protection to others and only minimize your symptoms). We haven’t even talked about those who’ve died, or those who have had their lives changed forever from the initial side effects of the vaccines.

Yes, I said initial. What will happen a year from now as the COV-SARS-19 virus continues to produce hundreds of variants a day (despite what they want you to focus on like some B.1.1.3 etc.) and you come to find out in that rush to get jabs in the arms that the vaccination of the older population first drives the virus into the younger people who then start getting sicker than they originally did because the virus is morphing to stay alive. That’s right, things like Antibody Dependant Enhancement[1] can occur when you start messing with the human bodies abilities to fight off disease naturally as it has for hundreds of thousands of years.

All I’d ask is for you to do your research and have informed consent before you get the jab, and don’t shame others’ who chose not to for their own personal reasons. Like me. I won’t be getting the jab because there’s no compelling reason for me to do so at this time. I’m relatively healthy (Yes, I’m obese so I fall into that risk category) but I have no real heath issues aside from the extra weight I carry around, and I know how to protect myself from the virus, so I’m choosing not to get vaccinated. I. Or people like me, shouldn’t be shamed because our beliefs are different from yours, and the solution doesn’t solve the problem, you only think it does because that’s what you are being told. \

Make your own decision and live with it. If I get the COVID and get sick enough (4% of my age category) to be hospitalized, so be it. I’ll take my chances on that versus being forced to have a chemical injected into my body that will do Gawd knows what to my immune system or any other system for that matter.

The other thing that just baffles me is how people actually believe the flu was eradicated this year. Sorry, are you serious? Do you think every single person in Canada was so diligent at washing their hands that we had no flu season this year?

I should have been a real estate salesperson in Florida selling swampland to tourists. Actually, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea for the next phase.

Anyway, wash your hands, stay socially distant, stay home if you’re sick, and wear a government mandated facial shaming device so you can conform and not be publically humiliated by Karen at Costco as you go to give your Easter offerings to the commerce Gods when you aren’t allowed to go to church to pray to whatever God the constitutions protects your right to bow to.

Get it yet?

Jim Out.

[1] Informed consent disclosure to vaccine trial subjects of risk of COVID-19 vaccines worsening clinical disease, Timothy Cardoza, Ronald Veazey

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ki6-7-l8r · 6 years

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God And The Loss Of God And Other Essays Of Interest.....

God And The Loss Of God March 30, 2017

For most of my life, I was not what you would call spiritual. When I was a kid I had a strong belief in God, that was very Christian oriented. I am a Jew by blood, but

I never followed Judaism. When I reached 16, I became very interested in Eastern Religions. I still believed in God, but in an impersonal God, like the one

described in the Upanishads. I also around 17 got interested in the Occult. I had a friend when I was around 11 who was interested in the occult, who I knew through high

school who influenced me in that direction. None of these things seemed to work very well, so when I reached the age of around 25, I became what you would call a

nihilist. I retained my occult interests, but I was just interested in its Black Magick attributes. This went on, but after awhile I got fed up with it, and from

the years of 1993-2001, I had nothing more to do with it, other than reading tarot cards once in awhile. In 2007, I had some kind of mental breakdown, where I converted

to, and became a Catholic for a couple of years.... Around 2009, due to the intense suffering in my life, and the futility of prayer, I lost all faith in God, or in any

other kinds of spiritual beings, and that is where I am now. If you look around my journal, you will find articles on the occult and other stuff, so I will not repeat it

here. This article has to do with my loss of faith in anything spiritual, including the idea that the occult and mysticism leads to any kind of spiritual "enlightenment"

which I now just view as total nonsense. And so it goes.....

The reason why I am now an atheist and have no belief at all in anything spiritual, is because I do not see spirituality as having any kind of effect in making the world

a better place. I have seen spirituality work (rarely) in making some people better, but that is the exception and not the rule. Religion is stupid, because it makes

people kill and torture each other; over disparate theological systems of what could be only termed, competing forms of superstitious absurdity. Also religion is used as

a pretext to subjugate individuals and masses of people, so they can be personally and collectively exploited. I am not saying that there are no smart and good people

that are religious, I am just saying the religion and beliefs in God/Gods/Goddesses just does not work, because in my view people that believe in these things are

delusional. They are not delusional because entities like this do not exist, they may. But if they do, they exist in alternate universes or planes of existence, that

either have no; or no worthwhile basis in relationship to this one. Because of this, people who believe in these things and spiritual ideas, tend to become delusional.

Spirituality does not work. The USA is loaded with Christians. There are churches everywhere. But if you are poor, the USA is among the worst places to live in the

world. 5 out of the 15 most homeless cities in the world are in the USA, and the USA has a homeless population that has become as bad as the Third World. Poverty is

endemic, as well as hunger and food insecurity, and those with homes are constantly in danger of losing them, or worried how they will pay their gas or electric. I have

spent a huge part of my life in such straits which is why I hate the United States; and have nothing but contempt for its political class and the government. The

election of Trump and his budget cuts were the last straw. The USA will never improve, so I am going to try in the 2-3 years to leave it for good and move to Europe.

I will renounce my US citizenship when it is feasible, and leave here and never come back. But back to my original point, the USA is full of Christians, yet

American society is a greed-obsessed shithole of a country. The Christians in the USA, most of them, are like a Protestant Taliban, pompous hypocrites full of greed and

crazy as shithouse owls. Catholics are no different, but most of them tend to be pretty quiet, which is good.

Another bad thing about America, is that these religious clowns keep the USA socially backward. They succeed in stopping stem-cell research, curtailing abortion,

blocking helping to make the USA more socially advanced by creating a better social safety net, and curtailing welfare, etc. But corporate welfare and the entitlement

policies

for the rich are OK. It is OK if kids go hungry with no welfare, as long as they can use the money to give rich people tax cuts. This is what Donald Trump thinks, and

the Democrats are no better. The rich in the USA are the worst kind of parasites, and all the US government does is bow-and-scrape and do their will, and oppress the

population to serve their venal interests.

This is not even politically radical at all, but perfectly obvious to anyone with half a brain.

What is interesting is in Sweden and Northern Europe, half of them that are Nordic people describe themselves as atheists or agnostics. And they have a far more humane

society with virtually no poverty or homelessness. The only people that are homeless are drug abusers that migrate around crashing on people's sofas, and illegal

immigrants who are there without permission. Legal permanent residents and citizens want for nothing. It seems in this case that atheism seems to actually *make* people

more moral. The USA would be a better place as well, if they just boarded-up all of the churches and gave up on religions. Russia is also gangster capitalist with all

kinds of poverty and no human rights. The Russian Orthodox church is no good at all.

I do not know what spirituality really is. I have no sense or conviction that spirituality is anything other than people being in the spasm of mood-swings.

As for me, my life is way too harsh for me to have even the smallest concern as to what any God/Goddess/Gods think of me. I could care less. Life is hard enough

without cluttering it with religious nonsense that does not work.

The infinite irrelevance of God and his nonexistence for me is the same. (I did not have time to edit this, and only slept 3 hours last night. Apologies for poor

syntax) ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I am just going to throw out some random ideas, as I am thinking about divergent things...

In regards to the idea that if all things are removed, (even infinity) that Nothing is the only thing left that exists. But since Nothing has no attributes that can be

ascertained to be real, Nothing existing is a misnomer since there is Nothing in Nothing to exist. Thus if Nothing exists, its existence must be illusory. Thus Nothing

affirms the illusion of its own existence, and thus implies the existence of illusion. And since Nothing is boundless, this illusion must be infinite; but wrought out of

Nothing and utterly one with it. And since it is all illusion nothing in this fake existence can be real in itself, thus everything in it must be relatively real: i.e.

infinitely self and other defined: So it would be Infinitely Relativized and Actualized Non-Substantiality. But Nothing being Nothing really must in truth, deny the

illusion of its own existence, and thus the existence of Illusion. Then all would be Infinitely De-Relativized, De-Actualized, and before anything could become separate

and amorphous, (nothing existing in itself) it would instantly be gone, non-substantiated into Nothingness Unmanifest.....

What perplexes me, is what if the pole of anything actually existing could be reproduced and then destroyed in an infinitesimal fraction of a second; where

Infinitely Relativized and Actualized Non-Substantiality would come and fade into existence so fast, that nobody would be aware of anything, and the pain of existence

would never actually be experienced by anyone or anything? This would for all practical purposes, keep Nothing in a state of Nothingness, and thus always be pure

Nirvana.

Why am I a determinist? I am of the view that freewill is an illusion. I think this because every complex of thought and action is predicated by some form of motive

force which is determined by its own reason for existing. This is true of everything. This happening as an infinite kind of gestalt across omniform multidimensionality

and

linearity across space and time holds everything together. The totality of what constitutes consciousness, motive force, and all acts is determined by *being* through

which the former emerges as a kind of reflex, of all interrelating with all, at a level of infinite complexity.

What will become of the USA? There is a cultural polarization going on in the country that is unprecedented. Americans used to be apolitical, now they are totally

*misinformed*. They are lied to by everyone.... By MSNBC, by Fox News, by liberals, by conservatives, and the only thing that holds true with all of these interests is

that they are totally self-interested and self-serving. Even Russia Today back in 2012, really concerned me over the "National Defense Authorization Act" that they said

was being used to send American citizens to Gitmo where they would be tortured, and this never happened. Even RT is propaganda in its own way...... But the polarization

runs right through the USA and even up into the wealthy strata. The only thing neo-liberals and conservatives have in common is in domestic affairs: They want to screw

everyone out of as much money as possible. In all else though they are at loggerheads. The liberals hate Putin and see him as another Hitler, whereas 48% of Republicans

admire Vladimir Putin very much. Both views of Putin are wrong. Putin is Machiavelli, with a touch of Jesus Christ. You have a square-off between the socially tolerant,

agnostic and atheistic, sexually libertine, but pro-ruthless capitalist and war-crazy neo-liberals, verses the socially intolerant, religiously fanatical, sexually

repressed, but pro-ruthless capitalist, and sometimes protectionist antiwar, but militarily supportive and at times war-crazy conservatives. This is a culture war, and it

is hard to see where it will end up. You do have some liberal so-called oligarchs, like George Soros who is very supportive of the Left. Soros supplied Occupy Wall Street

protesters with tents, generators, and legal help. If Trump continues neo-liberal economic policies the economy will totally go under. Half of the USA is doing very bad

economically, as in below-the-poverty-line bad. The only good this will do is that this will motivate and galvanize the Left. (Thats if they wake up from the system-

propagated distraction of cultural liberal issues, which will insure that the Left accomplished basically nothing of substance) And they are talking of gutting social

security too, and throwing a bunch of old people onto the streets, really? Is that the best anyone can do?

Hermetic/Platonic Philosophy In Just A Few Words..... July 17, 2016

1. The Infinite Is Unfolded/Regenerated Within And As The Finite; As The Finite Unfolded/Regenerated Within And As The Infinite.

2.The Infinite Within Its Actualized Potentialities; And Potentialized Actualities; And The Finite Within Its Actualized Potentialities; And Potentialized Actualities;

Are Wholly and Utterly One.

3. The Involution Of The Infinite Eternalizes The Finite And Finitizes The Infinite....

4. The Evolution Of The Finite Eternalizes The Infinite And Finitizes The Finite...

5. Therion Said: "Nothing Is." I say: NOTHING ALONE IS WHEN ALL IS GONE; NO THING IS BECAUSE WITHOUT THE RELATIVE IT CANNOT EXIST IN ITSELF.

" " "Nothing Becomes." I say: NOTHING BECOMES WHEN MAYA MANIFESTS; NO THING BECOMES BECAUSE IT IS ONE "IS'NESS" BEYOND SPACE AND TIME.

" " "Nothing Is Not." I say: NOTHING IS NOT/NOUGHT BECAUSE IT HAS NO POSITIVE EXISTENCE; NO THING IS NOUGHT BECAUSE IT HAS AT LEAST RELATIVE EXISTENCE.

" " "God And Man Emerging As Twins From Nuit And Hadit." This means that the Infinite/Eternal Will achieve completion within and as the Temporal/Finite;

and/as the Temporal/Finite achieving completion within and as the Infinite/Eternal. All things will be Infinite And Eternal, yet maintaining their unique

natures evolved and involved within space and time... Apocatastasis in Russian Orthodoxy.

There, I have just saved you from reading hundreds of tomes... Smile

#atheism #god #metaphysics #hermetic philosophy #quantum physics #occult

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jungee · 7 years

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Do You?

A/n: I know I said I would work on A World For Us but I couldn’t help but write this au with Jin

Pairing: Seokjin x reader ft. Bts in later parts

Summary: Seokjin used to believe in magic and when he grew older he became a skeptic until he met you; everything changed

Genre: Fantasy AU/Magician AU/Fluff

Word Count: 3006

Seokjin used to be a believer of magic. At the age of five the tricks he was exposed to weren’t just tricks to him; it was definitely magic. Something about the way his father would introduce the mannerisms were quite peculiar. The aura that was given was a sensation that felt foreign to him. Every single time his father had shown him a trick he’d be amazed with wonder. He’d question how his father would make everything look so easy.

He was infatuated with the idea of becoming a magician. He was curious, being that all kids were, he’d use his father’s cards and practice the basics only to struggle as he failed to do the same things. Just how did his father do it with such ease? His failures didn’t stop him though, with hard work and practice, he could finally do the tricks as he watched his father with concentration.

Showing the tricks he’s mastered to his classmates was exhilarating as they too believed that it was magic. Seokjin loved the attention. Every second or so he’d have people ask him to “do that again.” He was glad to make others happy just by showing a simple trick. He believed that being a magician was for him.

“Do you believe in magic?” His father would ask on a daily. A question that never got old as Seokjin would reply with a yes along with vigorous nodding to show his enthusiasm.

That was until he grew older, his friends telling him that this “magic” wasn’t real. Being shot down by those who used to believe in the same thing as him made him feel like the odd one. They were done with the phase of being those gullible kids but Seokjin was still naive as ever. When told to grow up, he never wanted to. He wanted to keep up with his magic because it was basically all he had. Up until his last year of middle school, the thought of being a magician had disappeared. The taunts and mockery had him fed up. He no longer cared.

The sight of his room in disarray made him distraught. He was tired of being made fun of because of his beliefs and he left magic alone ever since then. The daily tradition of asking if he believed in magic no longer existed because he stopped believing.

He became a skeptic. All those tricks mastered really were just tricks, there was no such thing as magic. He began to despise the word. It’d make him shudder in disgust when he’d remember the times where he was so infatuated with it. But, he didn’t know that things were about to change when he transferred universities. His father had recommended Lexity University. It was a renowned school for the intelligent. It was a great school recommended by his teachers as well and Seokjin decided to move back in with his father because he was the closest to the Lexity University. What he didn’t know was that he was in for a magical ride, like literally.

—

Seokjin sat on top of his bed as he stared at the boxes that were filled with his belongings. Playing with the rings on his fingers as he thought about what he should do. It felt weird moving back to his father’s house since it’s been at least two years when he moved to dorm at Seoul University. The atmosphere was quiet yet calming, something he hasn’t felt for awhile. Life at Seoul was hectic and he hoped that it wouldn’t be like that at Lexity. He gave out a sigh as he reached for his acceptance letter from Lexity. He felt accomplished but felt lost. He left Seoul meaning that he left his closest friends to go to a new school. He was scared to start anew as he would no longer be the popular pretty boy and it would take him awhile to adjust.

Seokjin decided to give Lexity University an early visit. The letter in his hand as he copied the address onto his phone as the navigation system told him the directions to his destination. It took him awhile to get there as he walked and didn’t have the car with him. He thought that the gps had led him the wrong way as he was surrounded by trees, shrubs and dirt. He was basically in the middle of nowhere. His letter still in his hand until the wind snatched it out of his grip making the piece of paper land on a branch. He huffed in frustration, carefully walking towards the letter extending his hand out to grab the object only to have the wind blow it out of his reach again. Another sigh left his lips as he now had to chase his letter through a forest.

The paper waving around with the wind was a hassle until he finally caught up with it. The trees that were naked were no longer in sight as they were replaced with trees filled with green leaves. The cold temperature had turned warm within half a second making him fan himself with his hands. The sight of dirt was no longer there as it was replaced with grass. Seokjin was confused. There was no way that winter could turn into summer in such a small amount of time. It was impossible. He began to think that he was going crazy, hallucinating at least. What caught his attention was the view of his father waiting for him, his acceptance letter in the hands of his dad.

He caught up to his father as he stood in front of him, “Dad? What’re you doing here? How did—”

“Welcome to Lexity University, son.” He greeted Seokjin with a grin as he handed him his letter back. Turning around as he began to walk into the building only to have Seokjin follow his steps with so many questions swirling in his head. “By the way, you aren’t crazy or hallucinating.” His father gave a wink as he presumed back to leading the way.

“Dad, please tell me what’s going on. I’m so confused. How did the weather change so easily? Why are you here?” He begged his dad to explain the situation as he caught up to his father’s pace and stood in front of him so he wouldn’t take another step. “Why—”

“Look at your acceptance letter one more time, son. You’ll see for yourself.”

And his father was right. Once Seokjin had unfolded the paper, it exposed the letters rearranging to make out a certain message in which he read; Lexity University: Institute of Magical Arts. He reread the words so many times it felt as if his eyes would pop out. There was no way any of this was true. He truly believed that he was dreaming, it had felt unreal. He gave out a scoff, “Haha, very funny dad. Magic isn’t real.” A few seconds pass as he watched his father’s facial expression never change as it was plastered with seriousness. His arms crossed over his chest as he stood tall while his eyes had a glint of sternness in them. Seokjin gave out a sigh as he facepalmed himself to show his frustration, “Dad, you can’t be serious. It isn’t real. I don’t believe in magic.”

“You wouldn’t have said that twenty years ago,” his father muttered as if only he could hear what he said.

“Because that was twenty years ago. I’m not five anymore, dad. Magic—” he lifted the letter in his hand up to his dad’s sight, “doesn’t exist. None of this is real!”

His father’s expression was filled with disappointment. He never realized that his son had grown up a skeptic but he should’ve known ever since Seokjin had stopped answering his daily question. A small dejected smile formed on his lips as he would ask Seokjin one more time, “Jin, do you believe in magic?”

“No, I don’t believe in magic,” Seokjin replied quickly with no hesitation in his answer. His father couldn’t stop his way of thinking so he’d have to show Seokjin himself. The hostile atmosphere began to cool down as soon as a stranger walked by into the situation.

“Dean, what’re you doing here?” An unfamiliar boy who seemed to be a bit younger than Seokjin interjected himself into the conversation while Seokjin thought; who was the dean? “Who is this?” The strange boy asked as he threw an arm around Seokjin as if they were close only to have Seokjin wiggle out of his grasp.

“Wait a minute, dean?” Seokjin questioned as he pointed a finger towards his dad while he nodded his head slowly as a reply.

“Jungkook, would you please show my son around? I’m quite busy at the moment,” Seokjin’s father dismissed himself as he waved a hand in the air saying his goodbyes for now.

A smile formed on the boy’s face as he grabbed Seokjin’s wrist making him walk the opposite direction of his dad, “My pleasure, dean.” The look on Seokjin’s face was unreadable. He felt lost, appalled, disappointed and many other feelings he could not name. How could his own father leave him in a situation like this, not explaining a single thing.

—

Jungkook lead the way to class as a few passerby’s greeted the young boy while staring at Seokjin in wonder. They knew that he was obviously new. He couldn’t deal with the stares, it was like he was back at square one which he was because it’s a new school and it would take him awhile to get used to the new atmosphere. He could not believe what he was seeing right in front of him. People on campus were levitating apples in the air, chanting spells and much more. He truly believed that this was a dream and that he’d wake up soon enough. A few snickers had left the lips of Jungkook as he saw Seokjin’s jaw drop in awe.

“Magic isn’t just a few simple card and mind tricks, you know.” He told Seokjin as he interrupted the skeptic’s thoughts.

It had to be a dream, fantasies aren’t real, magic isn’t real. “I don’t believe in magic,” he refuted in a harsh tone as he disagreed with his comment. He couldn’t believe any of this.

“You will, when you see her,” Jungkook claimed as he stood in front of another building where it led to you. The sight of you in the air levitating was fascinating. How you would walk down as if there were invisible stairs under your feet. Seokjin could feel his face burn up; he has never found anyone so beautiful besides himself until now. You glided through air as if it was nothing and he began to pinch himself to make sure he was dreaming; but he wasn’t because he could feel the pressure against his skin. Magic is real.

“Who is she?” Inquired Seokjin as he whispered the question to Jungkook while you were on your way towards them. He couldn’t help but stare, your beauty was nothing, not even he could compare to.

“L/n f/n,” Jungkook answered quickly, his eyes shifted towards Seokjin then to you. An admirable expression placed on his face as he told Seokjin what there was to know about you, “She’s the queen of the school and is adored by all. Very talented and beautiful, everyone wants to become her. She’s also a very important person related to royalty in the magical world and to have her choose Lexity University is an honor.”

“Jungkook!” You called out the younger boy’s name as you came dashing down the actual stairs of the building and brought him in for a hug. “How’s my fave freshie doing?” You ask as you retract from the embrace.

“This school rocks! I’m glad to be here. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be here, noona,” he gave out a chuckle as he rubbed the nape of his neck. “Ah, this is Kim Seokjin, son of the dean.” He introduced his new friend to you as the both of you exchanged bows.

“Welcome to Lexity University,” you greeted him with a smile. “Please follow me,” you instructed as you turned around and walked into the building having both men follow your steps. Seokjin was in awe with the appearance of the school. It was huge, a bit suburban but it was quite calming. His eyes darted in every direction as he took in the aesthetics of the university.

You stood still and in front of the gym doors as you looked back at Seokjin while he gave you a confused expression. “This is the gymnasium,” you pointed toward the door, the sight of other magicians conjuring up all their spells and powers as they battled against each other. “Your first battle will be in two weeks.” You announced to Seokjin as he stood by your side and watched the two magicians combat. His jaw dropped at the sight. They had so much agility as they dodged each attack that they blew at each other. How could they tut their hands so quickly to cast a spell? He could feel his stomach drop at his thoughts. Did he have a special power? If so, how would he be able to find out in such a short amount of time?

“Woah,” was all that could come out of his mouth as his hands were raised in a defensive way. “First battle?” He asked as you simply nodded your head as an answer. “How am I going to battle? I doubt I can find out what kind of magic I possess within that time frame!” He began to panic, his mind was a mess and he himself was a mess. He brought his hands up to ruffle up his hair in distress as he began to hyperventilate. This was not good. “What if I fail? What happens if—”

“Relax, Seokjin. You’ll be fine,” you reassured him with a smile so bright that he began to forget about all his worries within seconds. You pointed a finger toward yourself as you told him, “You have me to guide you. Plus, I can feel the energy you give off. It won’t be long till you know.”

—

Seokjin believed in your words but he began to become a skeptic once again. The days spent touching magical objects to find out what kind of power he possessed had been a long process. Hours after hours it all became useless to him. It had only been a few days and it began to frustrate him. Maybe magic truly wasn’t for him. He felt bad for you because of all the effort you put in to help him find his magical abilities. No matter what object it was it didn’t seem to work for him.

“This doesn’t seem to be working, y/n,” he groaned in frustration as he laid down on the floor while his hands covered his eyes. “None of this is working. I should just give—”

“Give up?” You finished the sentence for him in a hostile tone. “No, you can’t. Not right now. You still have time Seokjin,” you tried to reconcile with him only to have him silent and in thought.

He was lost as another sigh left his mouth. “I don’t know about this anymore, y/n. It just seems that none of these objects are working out for me.”

“We can try something else,” you blurted out in nervousness as you bit your bottom lip to silence you just a bit. You didn’t want to do it this way but Seokjin was right. You brought over hundreds of materials that would have awakened his powers and yet they were dupes. You grabbed his wrists and pulled them away to prevent him from covering his eyes. “You have to trust me on this,” your tone so serious all he could do was nod.

He got up from his laying position and sat right up in front of you as you told him to hold onto your hands. Now facing each other as the both of you sat in a criss cross legged position while your hands gripped onto his. Eyes closed ever so calmly as the both of you took big breaths. Inhaling and exhaling as the atmosphere around the both of you began to fade away while you began to chant words that Seokjin couldn’t understand. Everything that you were doing seemed unimaginable to him. If this was barely any of your ability, he wondered what your true capabilities were.

You abruptly stopped the spell as you suddenly let go of his hands and stood up. Seokjin was confused. He popped one eye open as it looked up at you looking for a sign that it was okay for him to get up as well. You gave a nod as he stood up in front of you. “So? Feel any different?” You asked, arms crossing over your chest.

“Not really,” he huffed out another sigh of frustration. “Y/n, I told maybe none of this is for me.”

“It has to be,” you refuted. “You’re the dean’s son after all.”

“Just because he’s a magician doesn’t mean that I will be one too!” He argued back as he flailed his arms in disarray only to have some weird light shoot out of his hands. The sound of a sizzle as it hit the wooden floor; a burn spot appeared where he had shot. He gasped at the sight. There was no way he could’ve done that. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He turned his hands slowly to have his palms face him; there was a distinct sign that was engraved on them. It must’ve happened when a sudden light had bounced off of his hands.

A huge smile had formed on your lips as you watched Seokjin look at his hands in awe.

“So, tell me. Do you believe in magic?”

#armiesnet #bts writing squad #boy group writers net #bangtanwriters-net #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #jin fluff #jin fanfic #my writing #excuse my half assed editing lmaoo

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pastordorry-blog · 5 years

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Amen!

Lord’s Prayer Week 8

Luke 9:22-35, 2 Corinthians 3:12-4:1

March 3, 2019

A preacher in a very traditional church, where proper decorum was always observed, was halfway through his Sunday sermon when someone in the congregation yelled out, “Amen!” The preacher nearly fainted. Once he regained his composure, he cleared his throat and continued. A second time the man yelled, “Amen!” This time the preacher glared at him. By now the entire congregation was awake, wondering what would happen next. The preacher paused, then plowed into his sermon once more. When the man yelled, “Amen!” even louder than the first two times, the preacher said to him from the pulpit, “Sir, we don’t do that in our church.” “But I’ve got religion!” said the man with enthusiasm. “Well,” replied the preacher, “you obviously didn’t get it here!”

What does it mean when we say “amen” at the end of a prayer, or in the middle of a sermon? Perhaps it means, “It’s time to stop talking now.”! Which is clearly not the case, or people in just about every church would be yelling it out during the sermon! For most of my life, I assumed it meant something along those lines. Turns out, amen does not mean good-bye! Amen does not mean, “Ta ta for now, God, thanks for listening. Now I’m going to get on with real life.”

What amen really means is “so be it”, or “I agree”. Or, maybe the best translation of all, “Let’s do it!” The word amen implies a kind of partnership. Us and God working together to bring about God’s kingdom here on earth. When we say Amen, it is a sign that our prayer has ended. But it is also a signal that “real life”—as in, life in Christ—is just beginning.

There is a nun who lives in Erie, PA named Joan Chittister whose writing has really blessed me over the years. She tells the story of a man who would occasionally stop by their soup kitchen with a donation. Sometimes he brought leftovers from an office luncheon; sometimes he brought $50. If they asked him, he would reach tall shelves for the nuns, or move something heavy for them. But he wasn’t a regular volunteer, and they didn’t even know his name.

One day, well, have you ever heard of “lake effect snow”? Even though Erie isn’t all that much further north than us, their winters are much harsher than ours. On many winter days the nuns’ soup kitchen is overflowing with people, just because they needed someplace to get out of the cold. It was on a day like that when the gentleman stopped by the soup kitchen again with several hams to donate. He saw how crowded they were, though, so he stayed to help serve. After several hours, as he was ready to leave, he noticed a guest sitting at the end of the table with his legs pressed against the heating element. He went over to investigate and saw that the guest only had on summer sandals—open toes, sling backs, perfect for summer but obviously not very helpful in the cold Erie winter. In a heartbeat, the well-dressed man bent down, took off his shoes and socks, and handed them to the homeless man. Then he left.

Seeing this, one of the nuns ran after him. “Wait!” she called. “You can’t go without your shoes. It’s freezing out!” “I know,” he called back. “That’s why I left them there.” The nun stood in the doorway as she watched the man walk away. She stared at the prints his bare feet made on the snowy walk and felt she was witnessed the kingdom of God.

That, to me, is an Amen story. It’s a story of how a group of nuns prayed the Lord’s prayer and heard in their prayer a call to give daily bread to people who are hungry. It’s a story of how a man who only wanted to be known by the name “Christian”, a man who prayed the Lord’s prayer and heard in that prayer a call to do God’s will on earth like it is in heaven. It is a story of Amen. Fellow Pennsylvanians who ended their prayers, not by saying, “Over and out”, or “ta ta for now, thanks for listening”, but by saying, “Amen! Let’s do this!”

I am so happy to be able to stand before you and say, Joan Chittister is not the only person who can tell stories like that in our state. We can tell them, too. Last week, a stranger stopped by our church because he had run low on gas and had no money to fill his tank. One of our church members said, no problem, I’ll go with you to the gas station and fill your tank. I offered to reimburse him from the discretionary account, but he said no, this is just something I wanted to do.

Lima Church is filled with people like that. People who, quietly, behind the scenes, see a need and meet it. Now obviously you don’t have to be a church member to “random acts of kindness”. And we know that no church is perfect. But turns out, churches have a way or organizing people to do good. “Let’s do this” accomplishes way more than “I will do this on my own” ever could. Lima Church is doing a lot of good! And we wanted everyone in the congregation to be proud and excited.

So we have set aside today to get to know the ministries of Lima UMC a little better, because we are a “Let’s Do This” church! We are partnering with God, trying to allow the stream of God’s grace to move us, so we can help earth become more like heaven. And not just in our congregation, but we have a long tradition of partnering with other congregations to live out our faith. For example, have any of you ever heard of Cokesbury UMC in Marcus Hook? Their slogan is, “The little church that does.” They provide lunch every day in the summer for any school age kid in the community. Marcus Hook is only 7 ½ miles from here, but socio-economic situation is much different. I am so proud that money from our Lima UMC endowment is being used to help God’s precious children in that community be fed in body and mind.

Closer to home is First UMC in Media. They are only 3 miles from us, and their food bank is always busy. Thank you for supporting this ministry! I don’t know who does it, but someone, or lots of someones, brings enough food donations to our church to fill the grocery cart in the narthex every two weeks. We support them financially as well, giving them over $10,000 in 2018. We are an Amen church, connected in our denomination to Amen congregations right around the corner—and all the way across the globe.

When we pray the Lord’s Prayer, and finish it by saying “Amen”, it’s not unlike standing at the front of the church and saying our wedding vows. The word Amen means, “I agree. I assent. So be it. Let’s do this.” It means, “This is my solemn vow.” Your will, Lord, not mine. Your kingdom, not my fiefdom. Your will, not my demands. Your glory, not my boasting. Your grace, not my grudges. Your daily spiritual bread, not my cultural junk food. Your eternal life, not my mortal life…Are you ready to say, “So be it” to all of this? We think it takes courage to get married, to pledge your troth to one person for the rest of your life. But when we pray the Lord’s prayer, we are pledging ourselves to God for all of eternity! Not just this lifetime, but for all time!

It takes courage to pray the Lord’s Prayer. It takes courage to be a member of a congregation. If you call yourself a Christian but never join a church, who’s going to hold you accountable? Who is going to challenge you to learn and grow? When you join the church, you get a community of faith to support you during hard times, and congratulate you in good times. But you also get a built-in group of people saying, “Come on, let’s do this!” It takes courage to join a local church, because the local church is always calling its members to take responsibility for following God’s lead toward righteous living.

But I think it takes even more courage to be a member of a congregation that is part of a global denomination. At times being in a denomination can seem like an inconvenience. The diversity of perspectives, beliefs, and values can frustrate, sadden, and even anger us. But being part of a global denomination is also a blessing, a chance to experience on earth a little foretaste of the glory divine, of the heavenly banquet where people of all nations, races, genders, political views, sexual orientations, native languages, social standing, you name it, people of every kind of difference will be seated together in true communion. That is the glory that awaits us, and that is the glory Paul was referring to in his letter to the Corinthians. “Therefore, since we have such a hope, we are very bold.” Because we know how things will turn out, we can have confidence, to put ourselves out there in ministry and compassion to a hurting world. As we have been saying for the last few weeks, our struggle is not with flesh and blood. It is not with our brothers and sisters in Christ. Our struggle is with evil, and love is our only weapon.

We opened our worship service by reading Luke’s account of the Transfiguration. Talk about a glorious, mountaintop experience!!! But Jesus did not stay up on the mountain top. He did not bask in the glow of the glory due his name. Instead, he left the mountain top, and descended into the valley—and began his journey toward Calvary. He came off the mountaintop and got to work. We have work to do as well. Our work is to turn toward the Lord, and allow God’s love to transform us. Paul writes, “Whenever anyone turns toward the Lord, the veil is taken away. Now the Lord is Spirit, and wherever the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect God’s glory, are being transformed into his likeness.” Transformed into the likeness of Christ. Can I get an Amen to that? Can I get a “let’s do this?” Will you take that vow, to offer yourself to Christ and be born again in his likeness? If so, please answer with me, “Amen!”

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douchebagbrainwaves · 6 years

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STARTUPS AND PEOPLE

But it wasn't just optimal in that sense, if the president faced unscripted questions by giving a press conference. Though they were to work like casual conversation. For nearly everyone, the opinion of other investors. Could other countries introduce more individualism into their technology companies and research labs keep hackers from doing the kind of gestures I'd make if I were a boss making people work this hard. B forms, if you keep growing at 10% a week you'll be surprised by the misdeeds of famous people do; in the sciences whether theories are true or false, and worse still, it can certainly help their competitors. School, so I won't repeat it all here. But since I've been dealing with this problem. They generally do better than to get someone else to tell you, is nil admirari. But this Lisp must be a better platform for it.

So Great May 2003 If Lisp is So Great May 2003 If Lisp is So Great May 2003 If Lisp is so great, why don't more do it? How much is that extra attention worth? If I had to pick the worst, it would be a step up. And we know from experience that some undergrads are as capable as the successful founders of following all the implications. So if you start a startup anywhere. I've never cried like I cried at his funeral. If you move there, the authorities fed you, prevented overt violence, and hate speech.

The quantity of meaning compressed into a small space by algebraic signs, is another circumstance that facilitates the reasonings we are accustomed to carry on by their aid. If anyone remembers Viaweb this might sound odd, because we didn't want them to be written too densely. A startup can't hope to enter a market that's obviously big and yet in which they happen to be the domain expert; you have to defend yourself. It's not a good place to look is in our blind spot: in our natural, naive belief that it's all about dealing with future investors: how much money you're putting in, and control of, their companies. No cofounder Not having a cofounder is a real hacker's language will always have a backup plan. We'd clean up our offices, wear better clothes, try to put it would be such a great idea, why hasn't someone else already done it? The author is a self-indulgent.

That will change the way they made money: by selling ads. Result: this revolution, if it delivered on that promise. Startups live or die on morale. Plant it in the hope of catching it. A corollary is that you have to decide who the founders are the whole reason kids get into trouble with if they believed us. They're helpful in doing deals and pumping out new features, increasing traffic, doing deals, getting written about—those investor meetings are more likely to succeed, what we were practicing for. The question of whether hockey would be a disaster to have kids soon.

I'd always supposed that all smart people, and how consistently bad people fail as startup founders. I've lived in where people genuinely cared about art. Exceptional programmers have an aptitude for and interest in programming that is not simply that they like what they can't have, if you love to hack you'll inevitably be working on filtering at the network level, because it contains things that could endanger children. For example, physical attractiveness wouldn't have been there 100 years ago. But even then, not immediately. Can something people have spent thousands of years, then a VC fund. We didn't realize it till I was writing this, my mind wandered: would it be useful to have metaphors in a programming language in this sense, but also to make them better, but that it is. For all its power in the market. You know there's demand, and people don't say that about things that don't scale is to how Henry Ford got started as a consulting company into a product business. It deals with the most radioactively controversial questions, from which because they're writing for a popular magazine, they start with the labels. This article is derived from a keynote talk at the 2003 Spam Conference. Bill did everything he could to steer IBM into making that blunder, and he was right.

But seeing what startups are really like will at least initially experience the other side. This metric needs fleshing out, and it did not. And since lots of other people: people not as smart as Bill Gates or Mark Zuckerberg knew at first is that they know what corp dev people at companies that are dynamic. But even the most unobservant people, and this is especially true of a highly articulated tool like a programming language. Reading the Wall Street Journal. History is full of worry. Few people can experience now what Darwin's contemporaries did when The Origin of Species was first published in 1982 to. In fact, software that drove an impressive collection of dials displaying real-time server statistics a hit with visitors, but indispensable for us too, modifications including bug fixes to open-source projects. This doesn't just affect what they claim was the reason. We worry about that, so stories of this type of profitability is that it's much larger. If you were going back to the stone age: technology. Here's a recipe that might produce the next Facebook, if you're working on something else.

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