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readyaiminquire · 5 years

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Not my president? - Understanding charisma.

Note: While I’m reworking this blog’s format, I wanted first to finish a planned series of posts on charisma that I began publishing a while back. Rather than making it a series, I figured I might well play around with a long-form format instead. This post will re-hash some of the information from the earlier post, but this time I promise it will actually reach a conclusion!

With US election campaigns in full swing, and with Democrats hoping to oust Trump from the Oval Office, the question of how Trump won at all has re-emerged. After four chaotic years, no-one Blue would want another four. Despite a laundry list of failures, scandals, and broken promises, will Trump be able to galvanise enough voters – again? Though I am by no means an expert on US politics, I feel that one area that a lot of pundits and commentators have failed to consider is that of his charisma. At the end of the day, it is Trump’s charismatic leadership that allowed him to be elected in the first place - and bear with me on this! We must really begin to look and deconstruct charisma to get to the heart of it all. Make no mistake, charisma serves a fundamentally important function within any democratic system – they would not be able to operate without it. As oxymoronic as it might sound, charismatic leadership is not reserved for the despotic, but it is a process we all engage with.

Who are our charismatic leaders? We think of Gaddafi, Stalin, the Kims in North Korea, or indeed the Ayatollahs in Iran – alongside questionable undercurrents of fooling the masses, abusing one’s power, and the creeping, assured emergence of ever more oppression. Charisma’s negative political baggage, however, doesn’t really help us to understand what it functionally is. So let’s shed all judgement, positive or negative, and instead look at charisma as a process. German sociologist Max Weber succinctly defined charisma as

“a certain quality of an individual person by virtue of which he is set apart from ordinary men”

In other words, charisma is a sort-of otherworldly quality that sets you apart from the masses. Authority is derived from charismatic qualities. Unlike other forms of authority, such as legal-rational authority (which relies on some sort of legal code, such as, a constitution) or traditional power (where authority is derived from something outside of the system itself, like the divine right to rule), charismatic authority comes from the very simple fact that people want to follow you.

It’s quite evident that Weber effectively sees charisma as some innate and mystical power – some sort of magic you have that makes people want to follow you. So, let’s look at Weber’s definition from a different perspective. Let’s consider charisma as something you do, rather than something you have. Charisma must always be the result of a set of rhetorical actions intended to convince the ‘common man’ that the charismatic person is indeed not common. Through such conviction, the ‘common man’ becomes a willing follower. In his book How to do things with words, J. L. Austin outlines that there are two different kinds of rhetorical actions: referential and performative. Referential actions simply describe the world, which means that it is either right or wrong. Performative actions, on the other hand, doesn’t describe anything at all and therefore cannot be right or wrong, merely successful or unsuccessful. To shamelessly steal an example from Alexei Yurchuk:

“If one makes an oath under appropriate conditions, while internally not intending to keep it, the oath is not made any less powerful in the eyes of those who accept it as such”.

Assuming you accept the above, charisma as something performed has some broad implications in the real world. But to make sense of that, we need to look at the typical Western democratic system.

Democracy comes with an awkward promise: that all people are created equal, and that the whole system is run by the people and for the people, while at the same time requiring elected hierarchies and leaders to effectively function. In other words, democracy only works because we’re willingly giving up our sovereignty to the system – something which, in most situations, might be perceived as deeply undemocratic. This tension, obviously, needs to be resolved somehow. The relationship between the State and the leader is roughly analogous with the relationship between power and authority. The State has power, and without diving far too deep into Foucault, power is inherently relational rather than what we might classify as material. Put simply, it emerges from social structures. In the case of the State, this relational power is very clear when you consider the different experiences and interactions different people – minorities, the homeless, immigrants, the privileged, and so on – have with its representatives. They all have a very different relationship to the State as an entity (anthropologists Veena Das and Deborah Poole refer to this as the ‘centre and the peripheries’, arguing that the best place to ‘see’ the State is the border at which its power breaks down).

In the same way, the State as an entity is also immaterial – we only interact with representatives of the State (civil servants, politicians, police officers) or we see the outcome of these representatives enforcing the power of the State upon us (laws, regulation, taxes). Authority, on the other hand, is effectively the ability to ‘direct’ power. The leader of the State relates in the same way to its structure, coming to embody the system as a whole, while the structure itself maintains the overarching power relations.

It is commonly understood that states only ‘work’ as a concept if the people within them act as if they do, something akin to the thought experiment of ‘would war end if all soldiers refused to fight?’. The leader, as the embodiment of the whole structure, begins to play a key role in maintaining this illusion. Much work has been done on this idea of ‘two bodies’. Alexei Yurchuk wrote that this set-up is traditionally very common among kings and other monarchs – in some cases very literally, with dolls being made of the monarch upon their deaths to quite literally give them a second body. The bodies a king inhabited were their ‘individual’ body, i.e. the person itself, and the second being that of the ‘office’ of Kingship, a divine-like body. It is this second regal body, in full regalia upon their throne, surrounded by servants and gold and pomp and circumstance, who is truly the king; the individual person will always simply be the person. This process is largely the same within the modern democratic state: there is the elected individual – the person – then there is the leader (president, prime minister, etc.), the embodiment of authority.

It is here we must return to what I wrote above about voluntarily submitting. When imagined, the idea of a leader as an embodiment of authority immediately sounds inherently un-democratic; non-democratic at best. It is this tension, alluded to previously, that charisma serves to reconcile.

It may sound contradictory, but in these cases charisma functions to dictate how – for example – a President can behave. It is what causes world leaders to attend particular events, or why they partake in completely-natural-totally-not-staged photo-ops. It’s not necessarily because they want to, or indeed because they think it’s fooling anyone, but rather because it is what the system requires the leader to do. It is, in other words, charismatic performance. Even more importantly, it is not the individual which fulfils the requirement, but rather them in the function as President. It is their second body, so to speak, which is having their photos taken beside some national memorial. This leads us to the crux of the whole situation: returning to the issue of democracy and leadership. We the people need to willingly submit ourselves to the leader’s authority. This is often done through voting. However, to effectively convince people, the leader must not only follow a particular agenda, philosophy, or give the correct promises, but they must also follow along in the ‘dance’. They must act statesmanlike (stateswomanlike?), to fulfil what we can in practical terms call ‘the minimum amount’ of charisma needed to be considered for leadership at all. In this sense, all democratic leaders are (somewhat) charismatic, by necessity.

Nonetheless, this of course highlights that charisma isn’t binary, despite often being spoken of in terms of haves and have-nots. Instead, we should imagine charisma as a spectrum: two people can be charismatic, and one more so than the other. Indeed, it also means that charisma is individually understood, that is to say, that different people are differently charismatic to different people. Despite the initial Weberian definition, it isn’t a magic spell. It is a performance, a dance, which functions as a safety-vale in Western political systems, a means to reconcile what is seemingly a fundamental contradiction.

This, of course, has very real-world implications. Let’s turn to an example. A rather thinly veiled metaphor, if you will, but such a reduction of an (obvious) example can help give some grounding – while playing with some nuance. You have Mr Red and Ms Blue, two presidential candidates in a totally hypothetical country. Ms Blue is a well-established politician, with a strong pedigree of various political posts. She’s experienced, educated, well-spoken, intelligent, and internationally respected. Mr Red, a newcomer on the stage, has no background in politics. He is radically outspoken, blunt even, criticised for his lack of experience, his limited rhetoric. His background is as a somewhat successful businessman, a stereotype he fully embraces. He’s divisive, to say the least. I’m sure you’re seeing where I’m going with this.

Within this completely hypothetical country, you have a traditionally large working class, which used to be strong in the past but has since declined as production jobs moved overseas. The perception among this group is that they have been abandoned by the powers that be – abandoned for several generations. They feel they’ve been systematically shut out of politics, unable to make themselves heard (lack of education, money, and so on), while the politicians – across the board – have continued toeing the same line. The established body politic, like Ms Blue, doesn’t much represent, let alone understand, them. Stage right: Enter Mr Red, down a gilded escalator. His rhetoric is outrageous, his promises ridiculous, his beliefs morally bankrupt. No-one believes what he says, not really. But it doesn’t matter. Mr Red wins anyway. He wins every time. Why? Because he dances to the tune of these otherwise marginalised voters. He speaks to them, makes promises for them, and whether he intends to keep these promises or not, or indeed whether he is expected to keep them, is irrelevant. At this stage, it was no longer about his promises but rather because he acted to this otherwise downtrodden group as the State, the leader, is expected to act: he listened to their issues, spoke to them directly, in a language they could connect with, made them a part of his wider political discourse, stepped out of the ivory tower, extended his hand as a candidate for the Presidency. He at this stage fulfilled the minimum amount of necessary charisma to even be considered as someone to follow. To counterweight this, Ms Blue maintained her distance and stance, equating herself with previous ‘establishment’ politicians, and as a result became unelectable: not because of having a worse programme, or lack of political merit, but rather because she became someone impossible for these voters to follow at all. She could not have been voted for, because she didn’t dance at all.

Charisma, though a funny thing, something we’ve all heard of and often instinctively see and understand, operates in not only a perhaps more complex way when dissected, but also with much more material force. In a sense, society as we know it requires a particular ebb and flow of charisma. But even then, it is not as random or magical as often believed; instead, it is simply the result of certain actions, of convincing people that you are indeed charismatic. Weber throughout most of his career maintained that charisma cannot be learned, that it was something you were born with, though he might have changed his mind on this, as an unfinished paper (sadly only a collection of notes) showed that he intended to write a paper on learning charisma after all. This isn’t the topic here, though, but rather to understand charisma as a social performance, a dance, which lies at the heart of the Western political system and discourse. It is a force rarely considered, not often analysed, and if even invoked, done more so to paint a mystical picture of the person in question.

The funny thing, of course, is that all leaders are charismatic, and necessarily so. Some do it better than others, of course, but without it democracy as we know it wouldn’t be able to function. Without charisma, we would all simply vote for ourselves.

Selected bibliography / recommended reading:

Austin, J. L. 1955. How to do things with Words (J. O. Urmson & M. Sbisàeds ). Oxford University Press.

Das, V. & Poole, D. (eds.) 2004 'Anthropology in the Margins of the State' Santa Fe: Scool of American Research Press; Oxford: James Currey Ltd.

Hansen, T. & Stepputat, F. 2006 'Sovereignty revisited' Annual Review of Anthropology, vol. 35

Weber, M. 1946 [1919] 'Politics as a vocation'. In Gerth, H.H. and Wright Mills, C. (trans. & eds.) Max Weber: Essays in Sociology pp. 77-128. New York: Oxford University Press

Yurchak, A. 2003 ‘The Soviet hegemony of form’ in ‘Everything was forever, until it was no more’ Comparative Studies in Society and History 45(3): 480-510

Yurchak, A. 2015 'Bodies of Lenin' in Representations vol. 2(2015) pp.116-157 215

#anthropology #charisma #leadership #essay #ethnography #argument #politics #weber #election #the state #government #performance #social and cultural anthropology #SocAnth #sociocultural #sociology

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inanawesomewave · 6 years

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AND THEN THERE’S THOSE OTHER THINGS (WHICH - FOR SEVERAL REASONS - WE WON’T MENTION)

I haven’t written on here in a while and the truth is, I’ve been very busy. Things in my life have been moving quicker, I’ve been achieving some goals, organising my life, and the truth is I’ve been rather all over the place. But, there’s no time like the present, and for today’s blog, I have something a little different for you. Normally you, my loyal readers, get the reformed-character version of me. The trying-hard-to-blend-in to the point where I wonder “am I even blending in? Or have I genuinely shaken off the sociopathy? And is that good?”. Yes, there’ve been real periods of time where it has been time for me to call into question my own personality disorder because I too have fallen victim to the narrative that sociopathy=extremely shitty person, and if I’m not being a shitty person, I must not be a sociopath. And I stand by the posts I have made and will continue to make about risk management and sincerity and mental health and compassionate care, but today, I am not feeling it. The reason I am writing today, my friends, is because I am having a BIG ANTISOCIAL DAY, and I thought, you know what? I might have people reading my blog who know what it’s like to know a sociopath, but don’t really know what it’s like to be one, who may wonder what it is we feel, what part of this is dark -- my blog may have even fooled you (through my own fault) that we might be wrong to assume sociopaths have inherently troubled minds or that the nothingness I mention can never feel dangerous to ourselves, but if I’m having this day, and feeling the way I feel, maybe I should just tell you all how it feels. Because we do feel. I guess the way I would describe it if pressed to be succinct would be “aggressive indifference”, which is perhaps an oxymoron but now’s not the time for me to quibble. Aggressive indifference is the root of how I feel when I’m having a bad day. I feel offended by potential empathy I may have to spend because empathy is currency and on days like today I am in poverty. It’s that feeling when you know that today, half a dozen people that you love could come to you with real problems, and your level of not caring wouldn’t be easily hidden by the right words, the right actions, the right mask; it’s like I have dropped the mask and I have no energy left to pick it up. I am angry at everything and everyone. I simultaneously cannot bear to go outside and want to go outside, I don’t want to see people but then I really want to see people because today is the day that someone might cause a spectacle of themselves, might be bigoted in my direction, might be awful, and finally I would find that release valve that would allow me to really blow some of this quite intense mood off. I can’t feel sentimental and really, I can’t feel anything today that isn’t a primary colour. I know the big, brutal brush-strokes of my feelings but my ability to think about the whys and wherefores of them, their nuances and their shifting tones, has absolutely gone and left me. There’s a level of cynicism to this and the only way to describe that is white-hot. This is a cynicism that goes really deep, it’s not just surface-level stuff, it’s not conspiracy stuff, this is a cynicism that goes down into the bowels of everything i have ever known and brings a disappointing black sludge up with it. I am unable to know anyone or anything today. I have lost that skill and on days like today I realise, it actually is a skill, and it really does not come naturally to me, not really. Every interaction with every human is an invitation to battle, every word and every gesture spoken not even to me, but near me, is an example of the doomed human species, everything I feel is second-guessed only by me, and any pure emotion I have is questioned by myself: “is this a real feeling? Or is it just something I think I’m feeling? What’s the name of this feeling?” because I don’t know, I do not know the names of my feelings. I just know they’re bad. I feel a weariness of mind that is hard to explain, because it’s not like a depression or a psychosis, it’s just a very deep, very pervasive exhaustion that shuts down a lot of my more nuanced functioning. I am so tired I can no longer discern how I feel from what really is, I cannot prioritise anyone’s anything. I don’t want to argue with anyone, I don’t want to settle any scores, I just want to exist in this body and within this brain, both of which seem to know how to autopilot and I’m sitting back and letting that happen, no need to intervene. It’s a chronic what-will-be-will-be, knowing that if I found out I’d won the lottery I’d have the same response as if I found out my mother had just died - it’s not good, it’s not bad, it is what it is, a fact, a bare event that does not require any of my emotional energy. And honestly, it feels funny too. That’s the positive thing that keeps the worst of it at bay, and that’s how I believe most of us get through the day -- because this is funny. It’s funny to run into the old friend of sociopathy, the man next door you always knew was there but never see but today came running up and down the street on fire. It’s a spectacle, a shitty, desperate, horrific and kind of brutally funny spectacle, just like everything is on days like today, I notice the stereotypes of people in a much sharper way, I notice people and I wonder about their backstories and I can flesh it out in a second, I see groups congregate socially in town and I know them without knowing them -- I know why they’re there, who they want to see, where they’re going, I know where they’ve been and I know what they love and hate and where they do and don’t want to end up -- okay, I don’t know but -- I know. And finally it feels like an endless unwinding of the self. Like any construct I have previously tried to uphold is bandaging itself off of me like an Egyptian mummy and beneath the rattling bones of me will be exposed and I will wonder, why on earth I wrapped myself up to begin with, and I will wonder why everyone doesn’t just be a skeleton. It feels like I’m unspooling, or fragmenting out, but none of it is dissociation, and none of it is a loss of self. It’s just like shedding skin, it’s necessary and something will grow back. I hate the constant snake/wolf imagery surrounding sociopaths but sometimes it’s necessary and today I am slithering across the hot sands and darting in all directions, and the skin of me is coming off in one clean crisp of a husk and I can feel that direct heat of the sun on me and I’m seen and I’m here and it’s just me, the heat, and the sand.

#aspd feels #actually aspd #aspd tag #antisocial feels #antisocial personality disorder

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ek-do-teen · 4 years

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Patriarchy, Rhea & Female Friendships

With the ubiquitous lines doing frequent rounds –

“Roses are red, Violet are blue, Let’s smash the patriarchy, me & you”

I have been brought to think about the whole concept of patriarchy. Whose side I am on, is a subject for some other day but how the angle of patriarchy has been plucked & tried to be perfectly placed by the influencers masked in the charade of Rhea’s well wishers is astonishing as well as alarming for me. With lack of arguments to put forward to by the accused party, the whole scenario has been changed to be looked from the angle of plight of the grieving women in the hands of the roaches called men. A specific picture that have been doing the rounds on the internet is specifically gruesome. Asking questions on Media trial is one thing, linking it to patriarchy is another, it’s a case of desperate juxtaposition, wrongly done

Patriarchy is one of the pertinent evils of the society, which sadly I have grown up living, linking it to such superficial issues is a mockery of the whole act. There are a whole lot of wrong doings in the coverage of this case- media trial, evasion of privacy, capitalizing on heard mentality, paid PR/media, politicization of one of the most independent body – journalism; however, I fail to see patriarchy playing a role here. In the death of Sunanda Pushkar, Sridevi, their then male partners had to go through a similar plight. One can argue, it might not have been that intense, because of course Gandhi didn’t know at that time, money can buy the 3 monkeys he propagated us to become – dumb, deaf and blind. Media might have not called them ‘vish – balak’ because of the sheer money which those parties would have thrown at them. Maybe their PR media was playing strong than Rhea’s (Satish Maneshinde- take note)

Patriarchy is a sad state of the society today. Despite seeing such sorry state of gender defined roles back at my home, I was always optimistic & hopeful. Neither my parents nor in the society I grew up in, I saw any difference in how I am being treated with respect to my brother. However, as you grow, you become more aware or maybe society starts to unleash its dark side, but I have been sloshed with idea of dichotomy of gender and its bias in the society.

As a female, if you are not working in your hometown, have you been subjected to questions like – ‘So what are your plans for marriage?’ ‘Do you have a boyfriend? Oh, where is he working?...Oh, haha I didn’t mean the company, which location?’

Let me know how many bouys would have been subjected to SAME questions!

Have you been to house warming parties of your married friends/colleagues/relatives; out of husband and wife whom have you seen organizing stuff- home/food/dinner, majorly. And out of the couple, who is most likely to be seen enjoying a game of poker with 2 finger pour whiskey with just 2 cubes of ice. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t wish to paint a sorry figure for species of our gender but despite the money, waiter/waitresses roaming around, a 5 star venue, it is always a responsibility of the wife/sister to overlook arrangements in such gatherings while the brat is, well brat.

In organizations which are sales oriented, have you seen the targets of ‘to be mothers’ change? As a recruitment consultant, one thing I can tell you for sure is women after returning from maternity are more likely to change jobs, even if the organization is one of the well known conglomerate. Why would organization want that, they have just invested 6 months paid leave on an employee, why wouldn’t they want to ensure longevity of that employee. Because it is easy to abide by the laws, rather than uproot the mentality and make it a fair playground for both the genders to fight on.

Is equal pay a misnomer? It is closer home than one can imagine. You don’t even have to go through the laborious reports of EY, Aon Hewitt, just enquire a few of your colleagues and you would be saddened by the stark reality of it. (If you doubt the veracity of my statement here, I reiterate I am a recruitment consultant)

The gender defined bifurcation is so stark in the capitalist world, that you have to turn blind sometimes to not be agitated by the treatment you are subjected to in your face. Thus you end up sharing few laughs on the ‘that time of the month’ joke, not drinking in a office party full of boys, pushing your butt extra hard to have your opinions on the table or being a part of the campaign – ‘men will be men’. You also have to stretch beyond the normal office hours to prove your ambition and reinstate you are in there for a longer time otherwise people might mistake you for a gold digger.

Growing up in a teachers’ only household (my maternal/paternal grandmother/aunt all have been teachers), I was time and again ‘advised’ to be a teacher as it helps to maintain a ‘work- life’ balance. Despite honoring that profession and having a natural knack for it, I didn’t pursue it ever because of the way it was always pitched to me. I naturally grew rebellious to teaching as a profession. (Ya, I take my previous words on my wonder parents back)

My name on my passport, 10th class certificate and all the essential documents was always maintained as ‘Stuti’ because well! Patriarchy is so engrained, one fails to notice in the day to day happenings. What is more agitating for me is men, who have been wonderful boys at one time, get shaped up at the helms of the society and mould themselves up as what is expected out of them from gender defined roles. I am talking about men whom I am in close contact with and have seen them growing.

My dear male friend once said to me- ‘Despite you both working (me and my partner), you have to be extra cautious about your home’. HOME, is a place made not bought. I would fail to take care of a space myself when the other person has nill emotions attached to it.

I have so much to say that I might be easily categorized as a naysayer rather than a human with an objective mindset. But then isn’t female with an objective mindset an oxymoron anyways. It takes patience, effort and tons of unlayering in your mind to stand for yourself and see through the lens not placed by your male boss/mom/in laws/SOCIETY. And after doing it, we are labelled as ‘emotional fools’. Impulsive word is just invented for females even though most of the culprits in ‘murder in the fit of rage’, ‘drunk driving’ would be well- males! But, hello- who tend to be emotional bitches in the house! I don’t recall any women who have given up in the face of adversity and have faced the man saying – ‘What do we do now?’. I can vouch for the emotional strength of women than men and THERE IS A DIFFERENCE between emotionally strong and being emotionally guarded. Men are latter. Being aware of patriarchy has also made me reverent of the all the female friendships I have in my life. We have been made to be jealous of our own gender, made to believe ‘aurat hi aurat ki dushman’ when it is the society at large we should be fighting against. No one can be as benevolent as a mother yet roaring at your ex the other second, if it is not for your ff. There is an unmatched comfort, well I am not denying you don’t need your fair share of male friends (you obvio need free labour when you are shifting your house next). BUT, nothing beats crying your heart out and smashing real patriarchy issues, planning to be turning lesbians with your female bf when you crib about your partner/bf/husband.

Well I bid adieu now, it has been a long emotional post. I blame it on my hormones.

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paintthestarsarttherapy · 5 years

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DO YOU KNOW WHO YOUR THERAPIST IS?

March 10th begins Creative Arts Therapies Week through the National Coalition for Creative Arts Therapies Associations. This is a great time to make sure that the general public knows what the Creative Arts Therapies are and how to find a credentialed therapist.

If you are logged on to social media at all chances are you may have been hit for an ad on how to attend workshops to learn art therapy or how to find a coach who specializes in art therapy. This seems like a good place to start in terms of making sure YOU know that a credentialed Creative Arts Therapist did not receive their training in a weekend workshop. Creative Arts Therapists like myself have gone through extensive training, just like any other licensed or credentialed psychotherapist out there. We endure Master’s-level programs, accumulating credits towards that degree. We then apply to and complete rigorous internships. We must accumulate supervised hours with a licensed clinician to ensure proper training for being able to work alone as a professional with all populations. We are tailored professionals with very specific backgrounds that enabled us to get here.

When these so-called ‘workshops’ pop up I often peruse the comments sections and I see them typically divided into two categories: 1) Credentialed therapists who are angered and appalled that workshops like these are offered with the idea that they can replace years of study and work; and 2) People who don’t understand why these aforementioned therapists are so insulted by this. The banter is back and forth and most Creative Arts Therapists like myself are frustrated, to say the least, and angered, to put it mildly.

These workshops are tricky; they use certain wording to appear like one thing but are actually another. You see them falling under titles such as, “Learn how to use art as therapy.” Seems innocuous enough, right? Many professionals use art as therapy without calling themselves art therapists. But if you read the fine print it might say, “Learn art therapy techniques such as … .” If it’s an ‘art therapy technique’ then it is purporting to be something it is not. YOU CANNOT BECOME AN ART THERAPIST SIMPLY BY TAKING A SINGLE COURSE OR WORKSHOP. Even if that course is taught by an art therapist, although I’d guess many are not, you are only cracking the very surface of an extremely specified form of therapy. Now we are crossing boundaries. Even more recently I saw an ad which stated: “Art Therapy life coach certification.” This not only kept ART THERAPY in the title of the training but continued by saying art therapy techniques would be taught. Whoa, whoa, whoa. Now we are creating a whole new type of service that is NOT credentialed by any Creative Arts Therapy Association, and taught by someone who has almost certainly not passed any boards to claim as such, nor do they hold a license in the discipline to practice.

So the trolls on these pages will say: Oh, stop being so sensitive. You can’t take ownership of the creative arts. Who cares as long as its helping someone?

Let’s break down this argument:

Sensitive: Yes, Creative Arts Therapists are extremely sensitive about their profession looking as if it is being taken over by those who are not properly educated because 1) That actually makes the profession itself look bad; and b) People are accepting the ‘treatments’ offered by these courses under false pretenses likely leading to bad or incorrect treatment.

Ownership: I don’t know any Creative Arts Therapist who thinks they OWN the idea of creative arts, no one does. In fact, I know a ton of great therapists who use the creative arts within their practices but are not art therapists, nor do they claim to be. They may say things like, “I use some drawing and painting techniques to help my clients open up but I am not trying to use any art therapy techniques I’ve read about or seen as I am not an art therapist.” AND most great psychotherapists out there are eager to refer clients to actual Creative Arts Therapists because they know they are not that person.

Helpful: If you became ill would you seek out a professional who attended a workshop on Ear, Nose and Throat infections or would you call a doctor aka someone who attended medical school and earned their degree by dedicated study of their chosen discipline? If you or your loved one were in need of mental health help would you go to someone who has dabbled in a few things here or there or someone who went school and EARNED their proper credentials for this?

And what would happen if you didn’t? Would you really be getting the help you need?

Every single family I meet typically asks me about my background or they read about it on my website. They know everything about my education and my specified training. I don’t hang workshops I’ve attended in my office, I hang my degrees and my licenses. I don’t call myself a “life coach;” I call myself a Creative Arts Therapist.

Even in the news art therapy has popped up due to certain people claiming they are in favor of Creative Arts Therapies yet those very people are against what MOST art therapists and the therapy community in general stand for: basic human rights. You can’t support a profession and claim to be a spokesperson for it when you and your ideals are the opposite of what our profession stands for. Talk about an oxymoron. All of these issues are actually hurting the greater profession of Creative Arts Therapists and causing immense confusion.

So how can YOU, the public, find a credentialed, board certified and/or licensed Creative Arts Therapist? Start by going to your state/local association website or Facebook page. Each specific creative arts division likely has its own ( for example, Music Therapists, Art Therapists, Dance Therapists, Drama Therapists, etc.). Here in New Jersey we have NJAMT, the New Jersey Association for Music Therapists and NJATA, the New Jersey Association for Art Therapists, as two examples. If your state does not have a local branch then search on a national level such as the American Art Therapy Association. Through these sites anyone can look up any credentialed therapist. If you don’t see them, they may not be credentialed. Your state government page should also have a way to search licensed professionals. As an Art Therapist we also have the Art Therapy Credentials Board where you can find Art Therapists who are registered and/or board certified. Board Certified means we studied long and hard to pass a test to prove our knowledge within our field. Crazy, I know. Imagine that, having to prove yourself to create your professional name.

Some key points, if you are looking specifically for a Creative Arts Therapist: you should find someone who is Board Certified, registered through one of those professional organizations, or is licensed. Do not accept someone that says they have attended workshops, done some training, read a book, worked with art therapists, etc. You can quite simply ask or look up what a person’s degree was in, most Art Therapists are Master’s level clinicians although some may only have Bachelors degrees. The main difference here is that they typically cannot pursue a license and Board Certification without their Master’s. You can also ask what board certification(s) they have, what license(s) they hold and so on.

Don’t be fooled by what you see; just as you search for the right doctor be sure you find the right therapist. Creative Arts Therapy is an amazing field with an ever-growing list of talented therapists. We are out there--there’s more of us than you think! Come find us.

Happy Creative Arts Therapies Week!

#catw2019 #arttherapy #creativeartstherapies #creativearts #expressivearts #therapy #counseling #mentalhealth #njata #njamt #aata #nccata #buyer beware

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bharatiyamedia-blog · 5 years

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15 wholesome Prompt Pot recipes for breakfast, lunch and dinner

http://tinyurl.com/y5gcwdcf Know anybody whose day would not enhance if that they had extra time and fewer dishes to clean? Me, both. Well-known for hands-off meals and cook dinner occasions which might be nearly too good to be true — to not point out the power to perform a number of cooking strategies in a single pot — the helpful Instant Pot might be simply what you have to make wholesome, home-cooked meals a daily prevalence. Now taking part in: Watch this: eight important Prompt Pot ideas 2:11 On high of faster cook dinner occasions, the pressure-cooking methodology that the Prompt Pot makes use of is claimed to retain more micronutrients in meals. Whether or not you eat paleo, vegan, vegetarian or keto or comply with another pointers, the Prompt Pot provides sufficient features to make meals your method. Oh, and should you’ve heard rumors that pressure cooking destroys nutrients whereas cooking, read about why that’s and is not true. Breakfast Prompt Pot recipes Breakfast is the best method to begin your day on a excessive notice, but it is in all probability the toughest meal to decide to for some individuals. I imply, would you somewhat have 15 additional minutes of wonderful sleep, or sloppy scrambled eggs? With an Prompt Pot, your weekday breakfast prospects develop into rather more interesting. No scarfing down a granola bar since you selected the additional sleep, and no regretting the selection to get up early and cook dinner breakfast, solely to be left with a sink filled with dishes to scrub upon arriving again residence. Breakfast burritos Easy Completely happy Foodie Easy Instant Pot Breakfast Burritos A mix of eggs, cream, diced greens, cheese and your selection of protein simmers right into a thick scramble within the Prompt Pot. This recipe makes greater than you may want for one sitting, so it is excellent for scooping into make-ahead parts and storing them within the freezer for later use. The extent of handbook work required for these simple burritos is wrapping the egg combination into tortillas. Easiest Instant Pot Steel-Cut Oats Metal-cut oats are the least refined kind of oats and have a chewier texture than rolled oats. They’re chock-full of fiber, B nutritional vitamins, magnesium, potassium and antioxidants. The draw back is that they take a very long time to cook dinner on a stovetop, and so they have to be babysat or else they might burn. Cook dinner time in an Prompt Pot? A whopping four minutes, plus a while to let the stress launch from the Prompt Pot. Frittata breakfast casserole Peas and Crayons Instant Pot Frittata Breakfast Casserole To start out your day with an enormous dietary wallop, do this veggie-loaded frittata-type casserole. Filled with bell peppers, onions, spinach and cheese, this frittata is well-rounded so far as vitamins go. Better of all, with simply 10 to 15 minutes of prep time for chopping and sauteing veggies, you can also make a number of parts and have simple reheatable breakfasts prepared for the next days. Instant Pot Crispy Breakfast Japanese Sweet Potatoes Potatoes are my morning carb of selection, however they’re both undercooked if I try to make them morning-of, or soggy if I prep forward of time and warmth them within the microwave. This recipe guarantees crispy candy potatoes with lemon zest — a morning facet dish I would spend money on an Prompt Pot for. Instant Pot Crustless Quiche Lorraine “Crustless quiche” would be the largest oxymoron ever created within the culinary world, as a result of historically, a quiche is all concerning the flaky crust. However I am going to run with it, as a result of this crustless model seems to be simply as scrumptious. It is easy, too: Simply place bacon, onions and cheese in your Prompt Pot pan insert, pour whisked eggs excessive and let the Prompt Pot do its factor for a couple of minutes. Lunch Prompt Pot recipes Like breakfast, lunchtime tends to conjure a self-debate: Ought to I go away for takeout? Eat a protein bar at my desk? Skip it altogether? With just a little premeditation and, in fact, an Prompt Pot, lunchtime woes begone. Lettuce wraps Pam Greer/Sidewalk Sneakers Instant Pot Pork Lettuce Wraps This lunch recipe is a two-step — first you have to cook dinner whole-grain wheat berries in your Prompt Pot, then the pork — but it surely’s value it. Toss two of those in a reusable plastic container and you will be full for hours after lunch, with out the dreaded afternoon crash. Maintain the leftover combination refrigerated and scoop into lettuce leaves while you’re able to eat them once more. Instant Pot Chili Chili is one in every of my favourite meal prep lunches. It is hearty and simple to eat, and never so filling that I really feel sluggish after downing a bowl. Downside is, it takes literal hours to organize, and I do not like sacrificing my whole Sunday to whip up a pot of chili, regardless of how delicious it makes my residence odor. With an Prompt Pot, chili cook dinner time drops from hours to a mere 30 minutes. French onion soup Effectively Plated Instant Pot French Onion Soup Like chili, soup is a favourite lunch choice of mine as a result of it is easy and nourishing for each the stomach and the soul. French onion soup is one thing I would usually solely order at a restaurant as a result of it appears fancy and intimidating to make at residence. Nevertheless, this recipe requires simply 10 minutes of prep time earlier than popping all of it into an Prompt Pot for an hour and 20, which sounds completely doable. Cool Ranch Chicken Lettuce Wraps Do not be fooled by the title of this recipe. The shredded rooster concocted right here can be utilized for tacos, sandwiches or anything you possibly can assume to place cool-ranch-seasoned rooster on. That stated, a scoop of this Prompt Pot rooster on a crispy lettuce leaf topped with avocado and ranch appears like precisely the lunchtime pick-me-up I at all times crave. Hen and rice Effectively Plated Instant Pot Chicken and Rice A pure basic. Hen and rice is a meal of many flavors: Tweak this recipe together with your favourite seasonings. For 15 minutes of prep time and 45 minutes to simmer, you can also make sufficient rooster and rice for a number of workday lunches. Dinner Prompt Pot recipes So breakfast is a battle and lunch is a private battle (pre-Prompt Pot). That brings us to dinner, which, should you’re something like me, is commonly preceded with the inner “We’ve meals at residence” speak as you sulk previous your favourite takeout joint. Once more, with an Prompt Pot, delectable dinners are simply an hour away, or only a few moments should you ready your meals forward of time. Instant Pot Spaghetti Whereas spaghetti is not actually thought of a troublesome meal to make, it does result in a major quantity of cleanup. On a stovetop, you want a separate pot or pan for pasta, meat and sauce. In an Prompt Pot, the whole lot cooks collectively on the identical time. Who knew spaghetti may get even simpler? Greek rooster Noshtastic Instant Pot Greek Chicken In case you’re keen to (and bear in mind to) marinate this rooster for four hours earlier than popping it in your Prompt Pot, it makes a severely satisfying and piquant dinner. The cook dinner time is barely 18 minutes, so I would suggest marinating your rooster in a single day so it is able to toss in while you get residence from work. Kung Pao Chicken As an alternative of longingly casting glances at takeout indicators and meals billboards in your homebound commute, you possibly can zip alongside excitedly eager about the Prompt Pot kung pao rooster ready for you at residence. This one will be made in a sluggish cooker or an Prompt Pot, however each variations look equally as scrumptious and more healthy than what you’d get from Panda Specific. Pressure Cooker Pork Loin with Bourbon Apple Sauce Sure, you possibly can eat gourmand meals on weeknights. Apple and pork are a basic combo, however add within the bourbon for a brand new twist and flavors you won’t get to take pleasure in regularly. This recipe additionally employs the flavors of garlic, thyme, rosemary and Dijon mustard for a taste straight out of a dimly lit restaurant eating room. Pot roast and potatoes Parker Feierbach/Delish Instant Pot Pot Roast & Potatoes Roast and potatoes was a staple meal throughout my childhood, and it is nonetheless a meal laden with nostalgia for me. I am keen to guess lots of people really feel the identical method about this basic savory dish. Relying on the scale of your roast, an Prompt Pot will tenderize it in simply 45 minutes to an hour, after which you possibly can dig right into a plate filled with fall-apart roast beef, carrots and potatoes. Source link

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zydrateacademy · 6 years

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Review - Monster Hunter World (PC)

This review contains spoilers. The benefit of playing a port months after the game initially hits consoles is that there are a host of guides available, which I recommend if you want to take this game moderately seriously (bit of an oxymoron there but bear with me). I don’t typically like games that require you to have extra study material to understand but to its credit, all I had to do was watch one video guide about the mechanics of my favored weapon, the Light Bowgun. After which I was probably fifty percent better every hunt after that. So I certainly recommend looking into that.

The story begins with your highly customize-able character on a ship to a ‘new world’, previously undiscovered in other games of the franchise. Your ship gets waylaid by a mountainous “Elder Dragon” who came up from sea. His back is full of magma and volcanic spouts and you climb his back in order to escape. Once you’re in safety, you find out he’s one of many that have migrated to this place for mysterious reasons. Typically one every few hundred years, now it’s one every decade and that has caused some turmoil in the ecosystem. Your job is essentially research. Kill monsters, stabilize the ecosystem, and arm yourself while doing so.

Eventually there is an extended epilogue. Once you discover that Elder’s goal and what it might mean, you enter a “High rank” hunt mechanic because the ecosystem has changed and you react accordingly. Monsters in these quests are tougher and more aggressive, and you continually work your way up.

This review may maintain some comparisons to Dauntless. As I mentioned in that very review, my only experience with MH as a franchise was during a brief road trip with my friend back in the PSP days. I have little memory of it and I doubt I was any good or understand any of the minutiae of mechanics. As such, a majority of my experience in this genre comes from Dauntless, the free-to-play variant with more dumbed down mechanics than you couldn’t shake a stick at. Veterans of MH are calling World dumbed down, ha. If only they knew how far that could actually go. My immediate first impression of MHW was actually quite positive. There’s something I can do here that I never really could at Dauntless; actually solo monsters. Dauntless was fairly unforgiving, only giving you five (count them: five) potions per hunt. You burn through those without burning the monster down properly, and you were done. Mercifully here, you not only get dozens of varying degrees of usefulness, you can also craft more on the fly or withdraw some from your loot in various camps set up around the impressively large zones. While some monsters give me more trouble than others (most flying types can do a one-two knockout by rushing me, putting me in a twelve hour stun animation, then merely swipe at me for an instant death), I’ve been in awe at what I’ve actually been able to accomplish on my own. ...And unfortunately, I am forced to do a handful of things on my own. Let me tap into some of the problems I have before diving back into the meat and mechanics of the game. Steam reviews are mixed for a couple of reasons. Bad controls and connectivity issues. The bad controls are a remnant of the fact that it was originally a PS4 game and the menus really show that. The UI itself is very controller friendly while the M/K is barely given a second thought. I had to rebind my weapon draw to left click like it is with melee because I’d find myself engaged in too many fights, frantically clicking only to find out I was actually just using my slinger and tossing useless rocks at the monster. In addition, the radial menu might as well not exist, as it is bound to your various F1-F4 keys. It’s very clunky and not at all the “quick” menu that it’s supposed to be. Frankly, I’m tired of hearing “just get a controller” from my friends. I don’t think I’ve touched a controller since 2008. Next is a problem that Capcom and Steam are already looking into. While I’ve been able to progress, just last night I lost out on three high ranked hunts because it kept dropping me from the group. From what I’ve read, the monster’s hitpoints balance towards groups (instantly doubling when a second person joins your hunt) but doesn’t at all go back down if anyone leaves. At the time I was replaying what was basically the main story’s ending, fighting the last boss over and over. Thankfully his mission doesn’t have a lot of open combat and is mostly just firing cannons and ballistae at him over and over. Still, it dropped me three times and had little to show for it overall.

There’s no direct party system, just player listings and hubs. You have to find a convoluted “Session ID” in the menus for your friends to copy and eventually join together. Someone posts a quest and everyone joins it. You won’t physically see anyone outside of a hunt unless you visit the gathering hub on top of the main town. The whole Session ID is just a pointless extra step that the likes of Capcom just love throwing in there. I am reminded of Black Desert Online. Despite being a different country, it still has the same idea behind its mechanics. One does not simply just craft or buy potions. First you have to press thirteen buttons just to get a stack of them. Then they might be put in your storage box, not personal pouch so you have to remember to take them out before your hunt. Then there’s the canteen mechanic, where you’re encourages you to eat to gain decent buffs before every hunt. Why not make that a single item you can use midhunt? Like Dauntless, pretty much every important thing in town is far apart and forces you into miniature loading screens. After every hunt you’re plopped on the bottom level but you still have to run up to the Blacksmith to fetch some upgrades. One does not simply make armor, too. In the higher levels you have to micromanage “decorations” to socket into your arms and armor to increase various passive skills. Why not just make those skills up-gradable like the armor itself? Indeed, one does not simply upgrade their armor! You have to collect “spheres” that you get from bounties and hunts in order to do so. Everything just has a pointless extra step, but I admit these are all nitpicks in what I do believe is a pretty damn good game. I have adjusted to the controls (even though it takes twelve clicks to get anywhere in the menu, but the combat is fine) and I can stomach the connectivity problems... for a time. Everything else is just a niggling annoyance that I have to deal with before I get to the real heart of the game: Expeditions and hunts. To its credit there’s a lot to do. Expeditions are the closest thing this game has to an “open world” setting. You will keep everything you acquire, gather materials and hunt the local monsters at your own leisure (though once you attack, they enter a sort of timer where they will flee the area if you fool around too much, but the mode itself will never kick you out). You can pick up quests on-site and continually remain in the zone you’ve chosen. Admittedly I haven’t explored expedition mode to a severe degree, as doing the various optional quests and bounties give me more than enough gameplay on their own. I never really need to piddle around the same zone for that long.

I mentioned earlier that I was happy that I can actually solo a handful of monsters in this game as opposed to Dauntless. There’s a lot more to that, the “simplest of MH’s” claim be damned, I embrace convenience if it comes hand in hand with actual fun. You can farm the same monster a few times but I found that the game offers you a handful of armor sets that can be crafted from bones and minerals alone. You can pick up bones from piles around every map and mine at little alcoves and continually gain materials to sets that will be perfectly passable for a time. I wore the basic “bone” armor for a while before getting into the more specialized stuff. Revered is the Anjarath, the game’s T-Rex who has a fire breath attack that will absolutely one-shot you and serves as the game’s first difficulty wall. His armor, however, gives fire resistance so if you can stomach fighting him a couple times (ideally in multiplayer), then you can likely build yourself up to handle him properly. Fun fact; I’ve yet to solo him myself. Other monsters have given players trouble that have instead given me more fun. The Radobaan for example, a sort of mid-game encounter in a zone called the Rotten Vale. It is a place where many monsters go to die and their essence feeds the Coral Highlands above it. The Radobaan covers itself in the bones of dead creatures and is thus highly armored, and you must burn through that in order to do some raw damage. I know of players who find this armor annoying but his movements are highly telegraphed and he’s a fan of stumbling himself which gives me a lot of free shots at him. So far he’s honestly been one of my favorite monsters to fight.

I did not realize this was the franchise’s first foray into big name consoles and even PC, the rest were evidently all handheld games. The intro into this hardware allows for a lot more powerful mechanics to come into play. New to the franchise, as far as I’m aware, is animal behavior. I can’t speak for the other games but I noticed a few things. There’s a turf war mechanic where two big bad monsters will encounter each other and start their own duel regardless of your presence. Each monster has its own “rating”, and I doubt a Great Jagras (the first and easiest monster) ever wins any of those.

In addition to that, I’ve found that docile animal mechanics can occasionally tip me off. You see it in a cutscene a time or two but even before my scoutflies (the game’s justification for a “go this way” mechanic) start tracking the monster, I’d be going down a path and find herbivores running the opposite direction. Sure enough, down that path was a large monster. Part of the hunt or no, animals do react accordingly. Sometimes they’ll take defensive positions as you initiate combat, or sometimes they’ll fly down and knock you over in a moment of monster camaraderie that I wish they hadn’t bothered with. Still, its moments like this that help the world feel like an actual world, appropriate for the game’s namesake. I know I droned on a bit about the problems the game had but some of them (the controls) can be mitigated. I’m enjoying myself, spending a good majority of my time responding to SOS flares or pushing myself in the high rank hunts to see what exactly I might be able to handle. I rarely push myself to see what exactly I’m capable of in gaming, but MHW pays that off so well. Maybe I can’t handle that flying Rathian on my own, but managing to take down a tunnel dwelling Diablos was a thing of beauty. The hunts can be long and exhausting but finally watching a beast get taken down after a couple of deaths can be very exciting. The genre may not be for everyone. If you’re story driven, you’ll find the one here is short and weak and mostly just serves as a framework for the gameplay. If you like content, then there’s plenty to do that should be varied enough to keep you around, and I’m sure they’ll update more monsters in as time goes on. Even after I get my fill, I’m sure I’ll keep an eye on this one.

#Monster Hunter World #Monster Hunter #MHW #Capcom #Gaming #PC Gaming

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greggeverman-blog · 7 years

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Star Trek, Another Generation. 4. Captain of the Best Men

“WHAAAAAAAAAAAT!!” the Starfleet Admiral Janer Cooner yelled in Mclintrix’s face. “What do you mean ‘New Shoes’!??” “It wasn’t Silver Krag’s fault, Admiral”, the ex-captain explained, holding up his hands defensively. “That fleet of prison barges was just asking to be attacked by the Klingons. Silver Krag is just the guy everyone always blames when something goes wrong.” Admiral Cooner and the two other Federation representatives looked at each other exasperated. “But-but-” “Besides”, Lab interrupted enthusiastically. I don’t think General Krag meant to attack the barges anyway. He just couldn’t fight the temptation when the time came.” “Yes!” Mclintrix applauded. “Listen to the Lab-rat!” “The Lab-who?” “No, Not the Lab-who. The Lab-Rat”, Mclintrix corrected. “And don’t try to convince me you haven’t ever had a new pair of shoes! I don’t believe that for one second!” “But, listen, Mclintrix”, Admiral Jase Looney said irritatedly. “This type of offensive is something we’ve gotten rather used to from the Klingons recently. These flash attacks are lately becoming old hat- if you will.” “I won’t”, he answered. “And what exactly does the fact that we’re at war with the Klingons prove?” “Captain, it proves that these brazen attacks must be answered imminently.” “I call ‘em ‘flash mob’ attacks!” Mclintrix replied, proud of himself. Then he paused for a minute. “What does ‘imminently’ mean?” he asked. “It means: Rather soon”, Vulcan ambassador Gluck answered. “Thank you, alien buddy”, Mclintrix bowed. “Those are funny eyebrows you’ve got there.” “I am a Vulcan from the planet Vulcan. There we speak Vulcan and possess that good old Vulcan know how.” “Always an excuse, isn’t there?” Mclintrix smirked. Gluck shrugged contentedly. “That’s logic for you.” He and Admiral Curtis high-fived playfully. “Who says logic can’t be fun, huh?” he asked. “Not I”, Mclintrix responded. “One thing you have to remember though, ambassador Gluck, is that humans are pretty fun too. On a scale of 1 to 10 they’re a 7.3.” He nodded. “Only Bejorans and Oxi-mights- who I like to call Oxymorons- score higher, scoring 8.2 and 9.7 respectively. Now bear in mind, that only counts if you’re respective of them- which I’m not.” “We Vulcans believe in respecting everyone, Captain”, Gluck contradicted him. “Because of the crimes of our long gone Mind-Lords, we have grown to respect all peoples. But especially our friends- and more notably our ‘friends-with-benefits’!” “Not as much as I respect My friends-with-benefits!” Mclintrix affirmed. “Why just before I got tossed in the cookie I-” “Captain, can we Please return to the subject!” Admiral Looney interrupted. “That’s what I’ve been trying to do for the last minute-and-a-half!” Mclintrix replied, equally angry. “Looks like you minstrels can’t seem to get your heads on straight!” “SEEMS LIKE A LOT OF CONFUSION!” a new voice boomed out. “MAYBE I CAN CLEAR IT UP!” A man then stepped out into the room. He was smirking smugly as the three admirals and the Vulcan ambassador trembled in fear. “Captain Evart Demoral!” Admiral Cooner exclaimed nervously. “That was a wallopingly dramatic entrance you did right there!” “Thank you, good sirs”, Demoral said upon entering. “Glad to be of comical-relief.” Admiral Looney introduced him to Mclintrix with a shaking hand. “Captain Mclintrix, this is Captain Demoral! Captain of the USS Cowboy! A very good friend of mine!” “I’ve got Two problems with your sentence structure”, Mclintrix pointed out, raising two fingers. “One: You said Captain a few times too many, and two: It sounds like you’re saying the Cowboy is a very good friend of yours, and not Captain Demoral.” “That Is what I was saying, Captain”, Looney replied. “I love the Cowboy Destroyer. It’s my fav’ ship of all our ships! Captain Demoral I hate.” “So, why is He here?” Lab asked Admiral Cooner, concerning Demoral. “He always intrudes on our confidential meetings”, Cooner explained; but the instant Demoral looked over at him, he added, “Which we love! Heh heh!” “Somebody has to!” Demoral bloomed out approaching the two. The man had to be almost 6 feet 2 inches tall! (Now, that’s Tall!) “It’s the only way to keep you power-hungry nepotists on your leash!” Looney was able to crack a smile. “Yes, we’ve heard all those nepotism allegations before, Captain Demoral.” Demoral marched over to him to stare down on the wimpy human. “Have you now!?” Looney pretended to think back. “Uh…yes, we have.” “Repeat them then.” He walked away to sit down behind Admiral Cooner’s desk and put his feet up. The three admirals and the Vulcan ambassador lined up in a row before his desk, and said in one voice, “Every member of the Starfleet council was only able to achieve his rank because his mommy or daddy is rich.” Looney was the only one who felt brave enough to add- though it was disguised by a fake cough- “Most- of- them-! Cough! Cough!” Demoral popped up out of his seat! “What did you say, Looney Bin! (his nickname for the admiral)” “Nothing! Nothing, nothing!” was the chicken’s answer. Demoral rounded the desk and approached the comparatively tiny human (Demoral was a full inch-and-a-half taller, you see; and with at least 12 pounds of solid muscle on him!). “No; you said something! I heard something in that cough distinctively!” he placed his HUGE(ish) hands on the pipsqueak’s shoulders. “Spit it out, Tiny! Or I’ll turn you into what resembles more of a Pounded human than a real one!” Cooner stepped forward bravely to confront the slightly bigger man. “Please, show some mercy, Captain Demoral!” he pleaded. “For pity’s sake, show your compassion on this poor fool!” Demoral made a backhand swinging gesture at the brave duck, causing him to duck and roll himself into a defensive ball on the floor, whimpering, and muttering what sounded to Mclintrix and Lab like what one would repeat to a baby. “NEVER SAY THAT AGAIN, COONER!!” the Brute Demoral thundered, “demoral”izing them all (I’m so sorry about the pun. It won’t happen again, I promise). “NOW, WHAT DID YOUR FILTHY TOUNGUE JUST UTTER, LOONEY BIN!?” “Please, oh great Demoral!” Looney replied, sinking to his knees. “Ask anything of me, and I shall gladly pay it and more! Just spare me your punishment!” “Finish the twerp!” Mclintrix exclaimed to Demoral. “Thank you, Captain!” was his answer. “I think I will!” He reared back a noodle arm to strike! “SHOW ME MERCY!!!” Looney hollered, holding up his hands before his face. “TAKE YOUR VENGEANCE OUT UPON EITHER THE OTHERS OR THE WALL OUTSIDE! OR EVEN THAT GUY WHO KEEPS BARGING INTO MY OFFICE DAY IN AND DAY OUT, WANTING A LONG TERM, AFFORDABLE HEALTH CARE PACKAGE!!” Demoral slapped him around a few times!! (Oh! The horror of it all!) When he had finally had his fun, he allowed the guy to slump down to the ground, cherry-cheeked! (I hope this isn’t too disturbing of a part for my viewers; because I know I sure had a hard time writing it down!) Looney ended up beside Cooner, who was by now singing lullabies to himself, while covering his eyes in an attempt to block the awful memory from entering his mind. Even the steel-willed Mclintrix couldn’t help but feel for them. “Captain…” he began slowly to Demoral. “I know it had to be done after all they did, but… Did it have to be so violent…?” Demoral looked down at his hands- those tools of such bitter violence! Finally he responded- his voice trembling- “I just… I just wanted to make them pay for their nepotism so bad, Donovan!” Mclintrix placed a hand on his shoulder. “I know. And they definitely deserved it. But not like this, best friend… Not like this…” Demoral threw himself into a big emotional hug with Mclintrix. “I’m so sorry, Donovan!” he exclaimed, breaking down into sobs. “I let evil overcome me! And, yes, I purged this horrible evil from our world! ��But at the cost of losing myself!” He cried pathetic tears for a few minutes while Mclintrix patted his head like a puppy. “I’m so sorry!” “I know”, the good captain answered consolingly. “It wasn’t your fault, Evart… It was mine… I should have been there for you… I should have been there…” Lab put a hand on Mclintrix’s shoulder. Tears were in his eyes. “It had to be done, and you know it, Donovan”, he said. “Those admirals are better off this way (lieing on the floor, wallowing in self-pity)… We must go…” “C’mon, Evart”, Mclintrix said, putting an arm around his shoulders. “Let’s go back to the Cowboy.” Demoral looked down sorrowfully at the two whimpering admirals. “I don’t want to leave them like this”, he wined (and dined). But he came with them anyway. *“ALL HANDS, BATTLE STATIONS!! WE ARE UNDER ATTACK!!”* an alarm blared. *“IT LOOKS TO ME LIKE IT’S THOSE STUPID KLINGONS AGAIN!! I’M GUESSING IT’S GENERAL SILVER KRAG’S FLEET!! I’M ALSO ASSUMING THAT HE’S HERE FOR THE MUNITIONS DEPOT- BUT DON’T TAKE MY WORD FOR IT!!”* Everyone popped to their feet, Admiral Looney and Cooner just to dive under their desk. “Under attack!?” Vulcan ambassador Gluck exclaimed. “I’m bailing!” He dived down a hallway. “Follow me, Captain!” Demoral ordered, wiping his eyes. “Let’s get to my uber-awesome ship! It’s called the- wait for it… Cowboy!” “Yes, Captain!” Mclintrix replied, clapping him on the shoulder. He, Demoral and Lab headed after the Vulcan. “Sounds to me like Krag is accidentally attacking us again!” “Yeah!” the huge (sort of) captain shouted back, nodding. “Let’s make this the last mishap he ever makes!” “Let’s!” he reaffirmed. “Because- as we all know- after we teach him a lesson, he’ll get to go home and be more careful next time!” Demoral spun around on him! “NOT WHAT I MEANT AT ALL!” he roared right in the poor man’s face! Mclintrix covered his eyes in the hopes that Demoral wouldn’t even see him there. Demoral snickered as he backed off. The three continued down the hallway into the hangar bay. Docked in the bay were three Galaxy-class cruisers as well as one much smaller Constellation class vessel. Mclintrix and Lab automatically headed toward the first big one- Demoral grabbed the two of them by their coat collars, hauling them back. “NOT THAT ONE, YOU CIRCUS CLOWNS!!” He redirected them towards the next giant vessel. “THAT WAY!!” Mclintrix and Lab didn’t dare resist. They bolted down the docking platform towards the next boarding ramp and began to make the turn- “NO!!” Demoral growled like a ornery shift supervisor! “NOT THAT SHIP!! THE OTHER ONE!!” They bolted down the platform ahead of the mad dog towards the last big ship in the bay. Once at the ramp they turned- “STOOOOOOPPPPPPP!!!” Demoral was screaming. Mclintrix and Lab curled up into a defensive ball in an attempt to ward him off! He dived into their ball throwing fisticuffs! Seconds later Mclintrix and Lab burst out screaming as they ran for the tiny Constellation class vessel, leaving a battered and bruised Demoral lying on the boarding ramp. Once there they wasted no time in pushing and shoving their way up the thin ramp- both trying to be the first to reach the protection of the destroyer. Mclintrix sealed the hatch door as they entered, and then bolted after Lab towards the elevator. The two stuffed themselves into the small doorway and slapped the ‘up’ button. “Whew!” Mclintrix said at last. “We escaped that guy!” Lab was panting heavily. “I don’t like humans!” he moaned. “I wanna go home- AAAAAA! What are You!?” he screamed at a third person in the elevator- if Person is even the right word for the thing! It had no mouth, two blue eyes staring out from in between a think nose bone (which carried down below his collar!), and a weird, braided fohawk atop his thick forehead! “ROOOOOOOOAAAAR!!!” he howled at the two of them! They both pasted themselves onto the far wall of the elevator, panicking big time! Before two seconds passed, they were scaling up the side walls! “Gets ‘em every time!” the alien exclaimed, clapping and giggling (though the sound wasn’t coming from any mouth, but rather a small disk-like indent in his nose-bone). “You Terrans will be so easy to conquer one day.” “You’re an Oxi-might, huh?” Mclintrix said energetically, hopping down from Lab’s shoulders. “I thought you guys had a truce with the Federation?” “Only until we see an opportunity to destroy you, Captain”, the Oxi-might replied, shaking Mclintrix’s outstretched hand. “My name is Q.L: son of A.R, and First in the line of Oxi-might Monarchs.” “EX-Captain Donovan Mclintrix”, he introduced himself. “First in the lineup for hotdogs.” “Ah, I see you are being funny, Captain Mclintrix”, the alien laughed. “But don’t worry, it will be your last.” “Thank you”, was his answer. “I’ve had enough hotdogs today, anyway.” “Can you just drop us off in the prison bay, please!” Lab moaned. “I’m scared!” Just then the doors opened. They were on the bridge! “Q.L!” the acting captain exclaimed. He was a dark-skinned Terran, wearing a ‘what-else-could-go-wrong-today?’ look. “Where in the name of all the Guys is the captain!? We’re all prepped for takeoff, and the fleet’s taking a pummeling out there!” “I’m not his babysitter!” Q.L retorted. “I looked everywhere for the dunce!” “But we need a captain!” the officer said frantically. “I’m too squeamish to do the job! Not to mention I can’t handle the responsibility! Do you guys have any Clue what happens to captains who make mistakes!? I’d probably end up like that presumptuous walking-pig Donovan Mclintrix!!” “So you guys need a captain, do you?” Mclintrix said, stepping forward. “Didn’t you just hear my speech- which included what a fool that Ex-Captain Donovan Mclintrix is!?” the executive officer of the ship asked aghast. “I did”, Mclintrix answered. “And I do believe I’m your man!” he sat down in the captain’s chair confidently. “I’m a Starfleet prisoner anyway, so I’m expendable.” “I wish I was expendable!” the first officer wined. “Alright! You’re in charge, Captain…uh?” “Donovan Mclintrix.” The guy snapped his finger. “Hey! I was just Thinking about that presumptuous…uh- Guy. Yeah. My name’s Drey “Jugular” Sapairo (pronounced Sap-air-o). I’m Number One on this ship.” “You mind if I just call you Jug?” Mclintrix asked. “I love it!” he replied, slapping the back of Mclintrix’s seat so hard his teeth rattled. Mclintrix felt good being back in the captain’s chair again, though. “All hands!” he called over the intercom. “Prepare for launch! Helm, Release docking clamps!” “Uh, Captain?” the helmsman said, turning around to face him. “We’re not back in the early 2000s. We don’t use docking clamps anymore.” “I was just testing your knowledge on history, son”, he replied. “I’m an expert on every single year of the 2000s- up until the year 2018, sir. I don’t know what happened in that year or any after.” “Me neither”, the new captain responded, pointing out the front viewer. “Engage impulse!” Standing directly behind Mclintrix, Drey clapped his hands together merrily. “Ooooh! An impulsive engagement!” he cheered. “So…who are you getting married to anyway?” “This guy Jug is better than me a that!” Mclintrix grinned. “Helm, at least You know what to do!” “Plan the wedding, sir?” the helmsman asked. “Activate impulse!” They guy broke out into song and dance, singing to the tune of Mississippi Moon-base! (Actually he did a heck of a rendition!) He stopped and turned red in the face when he realized the entire bridge crew was staring at him. “Why did you do that!” Mclintrix demanded angrily. “I activated my first impulse, sir, just like you ordered. Was it not to your liking?” “I hate humans!” Lab complained from a corner. “LOOK OUT, CAPTAIN!!” Jug screamed, pointing out the front viewer. A Klingon Bird of Prey blew the front hangar door open, and entered guns flaring! It’s heavy disrupter cannons ripped off the lower warp core of one of the Galaxy class vessels! “MOVE, HELM!!” Mclintrix ordered. The ship’s impulse engines flared into life and their vessel zoomed out passed the Klingon vessel. “Fire phasers as we pass!” he ordered the gunner (Q.L). “Oh my goose!” Jug jubilantly screamed just above a whisper, jumping for joy. “We’re actually gonna Pass at something! Mommy would be so proud!” Their Constellation class vessel poured fire into the Bird of Prey as they passed by it, ripping off the end of its right wing! *“OOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!”* a loudspeaker on its nose screamed. Mclintrix looked stunned as their ship zoomed out into the space outside the space-dock. “I don’t believe it!” he cried out. “That sounds like Silver KRAG!” he spun his chair around to face the communications technician. “Communications officer!” he said to the woman. “Patch me through to that Klingon ship quickly! It’s urgent!” “I can’t allow that, sir!” she replied, leaning lazily on her desk. “Starfleet protocol won’t allow communication outside of expected parameters, without an official on-site representative’s or ambassador’s compliance with the matter, due to subsection 8 protocols on a preliminary basis.” He paused for a second. “Please! It’s urgent!” “Well, why did you wait till Now to tell me that!??” she patched him through. “General Krag’s face should appear on the screen now, sir.” His face appeared all right, except the zoom-in feature wasn’t adjusted properly, so all they could see were a set of Klingon teeth in front of a flapping tongue. “Uh, who is this?” Krag asked (or rather Krag’s mouth asked). “I am Captain Donovan T.T.Y.L Mclintrix of the Federation starship- uh… What ship are we on?” he asked Commander Jug. “Cowboy, sir. And may I just say that you are my role model and hero of-” “The Federation Starship Cowboy!” Mclintrix continued to Krag. “We come in peace-out. We want no trouble with your people.” “Mclintrix!” Krag shouted. “No way, my man! You did it, right? You talked to the Federation big shots? Well, what’d they say? Am I allowed to continue this gravy-train raid? I mean, like…we got over a hundred Federation credits on that last raid, my fellow creature of the cosmos! That’s almost enough for me to buy back-braces for all my guys, so they can do their stretches in comfort and quiet, man. Peace and harmony, man.” His Klingon mouth curved up into a dreamy smile. “We can finally become one with our inner star-shine! And peace? …Well, dude, peace is just the next step, my cousin. We’re gonna ride the train carried by the wind from here on… The Love train… Dude, this is happy in a can, man! And it is So awesome!” Mclintrix had to bury his inner compassion as he replied, “No Krag. I’m afraid I can’t allow this to continue any longer.” He tried to look resolute and brave, but his insides felt like Terran deep-fried salami (Ewww!). The Klingon’s jaw dropped on the screen. “Whu-uuhh!” Krag exclaimed. “But we’re Besties, dude-man! No way would my best friend ever say that to his chum! I’m almost not even able to believe you’re my best friend, Mac’n’cheese… Or uh…Mclintrix!- that’s it! My best friend Mclintrix wouldn’t even consider hurting his besty by saying something rude and mean like that!” The crew all looked to their heartbroken captain to respond. It took him awhile to answer- as his mouth was stuffed with comfort food (Cheesy cupcakes! Yum-yum!). “Listen Silver Krag…” he began slowly- his mouth full. “We might be the best friends time and space ever created- although I, for one, don’t even believe time and space actually created us- but I must stand firm in my resolution… You and your ships must…” He took a deep breath and swallowed hard (The cupcake took a lot of effort to get down). “Back off…” “AAAAAA!” Krag exclaimed, biting his fingernails. “No way!” The teeth on the screen began making wild crunching motions and he began to blow giant bubbles with his bubble-gum. Finally a big one exploded all over the part of his face that was visible. “So, this is how it’s gonna roll, huh!?” he said angrily. “You’re making my peace thing hurt, Captain! So prepare yourself to get a lil’ HURT back!” The screen went dead as the camera zoomed into the blackness of his open mouth, and the transmission was cut. Mclintrix slumped down in his seat. The Cheesey bag dropped from his greasy hand. Lab came over to comfort him, as did all the other officers. There ended up being a large pileup of bodies around the captain’s chair. (The scent of Cheeseys called to them. The “comforting” was just a ruse to get at the delicious snacks!) “Helm!” Mclintrix screamed out from inside the group. “Prepare deflector shields, as well as regular shields!” The helmsman returned to his post, having had his fill of Cheeseys. “Shields…up, Captain”, he said between gulps. “Photon Torpedoes ready as well.” “Good”, Mclintrix replied, reassuming his commanding posture. “Then get ready for the fight of you life!” The Klingon Bird of Prey burst out of the hangar bay, and zoomed right at them! The Battle of General Silver Krag vs Captain Donovan Mclintrix (which later became known as the Battle between Lifelong Friends) was about to begin… (This is so Epic, man!)

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