Csm2 chapter 1……….

The Other Side Of “Paradise”

okay i did my best but honestly there is something inherently romantic about coffee shop au’s. i don’t make the rules, this is something the Gods themselves have demanded of us mortals. anyways here’s a coffee shop au of geralt x jaskier x yennefer with a little bit of “hi working sucks and all customer service makes you wanna die” sprinkled in.

i haven’t written anything properly in a very, very long time and i will not apologise that this is garbage cause it’s my garbage. i’m also addicted to italics and run-on sentences :( i just love them :(

VERY mild tw, but there is suggestion of dubious consent workplace romance in this (bc fuck calanthe). it’s very blink and you’ll miss it but just in case this upsets anyone​

There was nothing particularly remarkable about the tattered, leather armchair that the stranger chose to occupy every morning, from dawn ‘till minutes before the early-morning coffee rush of the overworked and exhausted middle class. It was a simple piece of furnishing, tired from years of use, the dark brown turned faded gold from loveless wear and tear. 

Jaskier couldn’t even be certain it was real leather. It was some garishly old-fashioned monstrosity Yennefer had picked out under the insistence it “suited” the “aesthetic” of their humble coffee shop. That, he could agree with; old, worn-out, faded in spots with chipped paint and signage that management hadn’t been bothered with maintaining in years. 

He was certain there was a poster still mounted out the front, boasting of a coffee-donut combo they didn’t offer anymore. At least, he hoped that was the reason customers kept arguing with him that they should be able to buy both for half the price of each item. Then again, he wouldn’t put it past the customers to argue simply for the sake of contributing to the misery of his day-to-day life, and adding that sweet tone of bitterness to his weekly paycheck. 

To his point, though - in spite of the unremarkable nature of the unremarkable chair in the unremarkable coffeeshop, the stranger sat in it. Every day. Jaskier’s preference was for the brightly-coloured couch settled by the window. It was covered in bright pillows and filled with sunshine, not to mention the cushions were luxuriously soft and oh, how Jaskier longed to melt in them right this second. He was not a morning person, but neither was the manager, hence he was stuck on morning shifts with the occasionally pleasant, mostly venomous Yennefer, who was perhaps not an any-time-of-day person. 

Jaskier couldn’t puzzle out why the stranger chose that particular spot, in their particular coffee shop, at that particular time every morning. Perhaps it was the sleep-deprivation, maybe it was the sheer monotony of serving coffee and making coffee and serving coffee and making coffee, but he found himself utterly bewitched with the notion of understanding every detail of this one especially broody customer. The early-morning crowd were not a pleasant bunch to begin with, but there was a quiet melancholy about the absolute behemoth of a man that was quite unrivalled by the rest of their clientele. 

Curiously, Jaskier noted the way he, oh beautiful he, seemed to fold into himself where he sat in the chair - his large, well-built limbs tucked neatly away within the confines, head tipped down as he furrowed his brow at something on his phone. Jaskier wondered if the stranger actually knew how to smile. Thus far, none of the brunet’s jokes had yet roused even a twitch of the mouth, and Jaskier prided himself at being particularly hilarious when it was 2 minutes past 6 and he hadn’t eaten in 18 hours (because he didn’t want to plunge his account into the negatives over such a luxury as food). 

The distinct click of Yennefer’s tongue roused Jaskier from his thoughts, and he cast his occasional partner-in-crime a sidelong glance. “Yes, oh beautiful maiden?” He hummed in that annoying pitch of tone that she loathed so much. It earned him a sigh. The sound was music to his ears, for it wasn’t a good day if Yennefer wasn’t exasperatedly indulging his existence for the sake of any semblance of company that didn’t involve rehashing the same, pleasant lines over-and-over for the mindless crowd that wandered through their creaky doors. 

“If you’re done staring at the walking stereotype of the strong, silent type,” Yennefer began, her voice as haughty as the upwards tip of her chin - she despised being shorter than him, though he often argued it made no difference when she was emotionally the most domineeringly tall person he’d ever met. “I need you to actually do something useful with your life, like check the temperatures on the pies, and then make some of the coffee being ordered through the app?” She asked, annoyed. 

Jaskier would’ve questioned why she was in a mood, but she rarely wasn’t in one, so there really was no point. He sighed, long-suffering. “Yes, your highness! Your most esteemed majesty! Is there anything else I can do with my waste of a life, if only to please you?” He asked, dramatically. He thought he saw the stranger in the lifeless armchair lift his head at Jaskier’s loud, extravagant proclamation, but when he turned to catch their eye the stranger was looking back at his phone. How disappointing. He could use a bit of tension-laden staring first thing in the morning, and from a distance it was easy to pretend that the stranger’s naturally displeased disposition was just frustrated, sexual pining.

“Stop ogling him and do your job,” Yennefer hissed. Jaskier groaned, but did as he was told. 

– 

“Why are you standing over the bin with three cartons of milk?” Jaskier asked, conversationally, having performed the duties demanded of him. He slung a striped tea towel dashingly over his shoulder - his outfit at work left much to be desired, he had to do something to add a bit of colour to it. 

“The milk is out of date,” Yennefer made a face, as if this were the milk’s fault. Jaskier was delirious enough from working for the fifth day in a row to consider that it just might be.

“And you’re not throwing it out, because…?” He questioned, tone still light-hearted and friendly. 

“I’m going to, I’m just mentally preparing myself for the lecture Calanthe is going to give me about wasting stock, as if a few cartons of milk is going to bankrupt Cintra Corp,” Yennefer sighed, her features twisting with a displeased scowl. Ah, Calanthe, their beloved manager, who was absolutely not on steroids and something else entirely that made her the most intensely awful person he’d ever met. She would be very unhappy to know that she had to write-off the milk. 

“Better that than poisoning the masses,” he said, sounding unconvinced by his own words. By the grimace on Yennefer’s face and the pointed look over her shoulder at him, he suspected she disagreed. “I always knew your weapon of choice would be poison,” he chuckled. 

“You say that as if I wouldn’t prefer to simply watch a man die with both of my hands around his throat,” she muttered darkly, dropping the milk into the bin and turning on her heel to walk back over to the counter. Jaskier trotted after her, happy puppy-dog that he was, always biting at her ankles to get her attention. 

“Oh, that’s hot, Yen. Don’t turn me on first thing in the morning,” he cooed at her. Yennefer looked like she might laugh at that, when they were both interrupted by a customer clearing his throat.

And oh. There he was. Their silver-haired patron, coffee mug in hand, a thoughtful frown decorating his chiseled complexion. Jaskier wanted to write a thousand poems about the particular way the light caught on his eyes, turning them almost to shimmering gold, his hair messily (beautifully) framing the hard, angular lines of his jaw, the sweep of his mouth so kissably soft this early in the morning, the glow of the sun decorating his figure-

“Can I help you, sir?” He asked, eagerly. He could feel Yennefer rolling her eyes. He ignored her. “Would you like another coffee?” 

“Geralt,” the man replied. 

“Pardon?” Jaskier blinked, taken-aback. 

“My name’s Geralt,” the stranger clarified, clearing his throat a little. It didn’t make his voice any less delectably deep. “You don’t need to call me ‘sir’.”

“Oh,” Jaskier replied, in all of his poetic brilliance. He could not think of a thing to say in response to being given a name - a name! What a wondrous thing! He’d compose a thousand sonnets to it, write a hundred songs, scribble it over every notebook he owned! Well, as soon as he thought of something to rhyme with a name like that, anyways. He was too hungry and tired to be brilliant just yet, such things were reserved for when his only company was the moon.

Yennefer recovered much faster than he did to the sheer, utter pleasure of being given a name. He surmised that this was entirely due to the free, out-of-date food Calanthe would periodically bestow upon Yennefer, as incentive to keep quiet about the way Calanthe enjoyed inflicting her romantic affections upon the woman. Jaskier witnessed these things too, and yet his silence was never bought - and it should be! Jaskier did not keep quiet about most things!

“Can we help you then, Geralt?” Yennefer asked. 

“If you wouldn’t mind terribly,” Geralt murmured. “I was wondering if you’d be interested in having dinner with me sometime? That is, if you’re not too offended by - What was it you said? Oh, yes,” Geralt recalled, tilting his head slightly at Yennefer, who was beginning to flush a startlingly becoming shade of crimson. Whether this was from shock, embarrassment, or a lethal combination of both, Jaskier couldn’t be certain. “My being the ‘stereotype of the strong, silent type’?” And then, he did the most bastardly thing of all - his lips twitched up in a soft half-smile.  

Jaskier felt unrepentant and hysterical indignation curl around his insides, his lips parting with a half-formed protest that had him begging to proclaim, ‘Insulting you?! That’s what it takes to make you smile?! Yennefer just has to INSULT you from a distance, and yet I spend weeks working to make you laugh and all you do is stare at me blankly! You-you handsome, daft bastard!’. Of course, he didn’t, because he wasn’t quite mad and he didn’t want the dashingly attractive stranger to realise that Jaskier had been obsessing over the shape of his mouth for nearly a month now. The audacity of the heterosexual man and his ability to be so easily pleased and captivated by a woman, Jaskier thought moodily.

Admittedly, Yennefer was quite a woman, but still. Still!

As if Jaskier’s thoughts were so haughty and offended they had made telepathy suddenly quite real, Geralt’s eyes snapped to him. There was a soft intensity burning in them, a faint amusement comfortably at home in the curve of his smile as he let his eyes roam down, then slowly back up. Jaskier felt suddenly under-dressed and unbelievably unattractive in his sun-faded, black (more grey, now) shirt that didn’t even compliment the shape of his figure because it was company-issued, and his brown slacks that did not even remotely hug the shape of his thighs, his ass. 

Oh, to be free of the uniformed lifestyle and able to dress in tight-fitting everything, if only to give Geralt something to look at. 

“You can come too, if you’d like,” Geralt said, the suggestion so lightly offered Jaskier almost didn’t even think anything of it. “You seem a package deal,” Geralt hummed, as if that explained his sudden suggestion that Yennefer, Jaskier, and himself go on a date. Together. All three of them. “Not that I wouldn’t ask even if you weren’t.” Geralt quirked a brow, as if daring Jaskier or Yennefer to deny him the pleasantry of both their company. Jaskier’s mind was reeling, which must be why for once in his life, all he could do was nod dumbly and offer not a single, witty flirt in retaliation. 

Sensing his utter brain-dead uselessness, Yennefer stepped in. “Maybe,” she agreed, light-hearted but there was an eager edge to the way she tipped her body forwards, leaning against the counter, dark lashes sweeping over the snow-dusted curve of her cheeks as she looked at Geralt. “If you tip well.” 

Geralt snorted. “In this economy?” He asked, amused, before he opened his wallet and pulled out a note. He scribbled a collection of numbers onto it, then slid it over to Yennefer, who took it with a bemused smirk and pocketed it. “Have a nice day,” Geralt murmured to them both, his eyes sliding to Jaskier. He smiled properly, then turned and left.

Jaskier collapsed against Yennefer’s side. “Are we even allowed to date the customers?” He asked, gasping like he’d just been underwater for a moment too long. He felt like it. 

Yennefer cackled. “This job is shit, we might as well start fucking the people who come in - at least they’ll treat us nicer,” she pushed one of Jaskier’s wild curls out of his face and tucked it behind his ear, a rare display of fondness.

“You say that like men are known to be kind to the people they fall into bed with, and not just roll over and fall asleep,” Jaskier scoffed. Yennefer bit her lip and looked over to Geralt’s retreating figure, silhouetted by the sunlight as he crossed the street. Jaskier only recognised him because he’d spent an hour every morning committing to memory the broadness of his shoulders, and the tight roundness of his ass (the latter he only glanced in the brief moments where Geralt would stand to leave, or to order his coffee). 

They were both silent for a moment, before Jaskier realised something. “Wait, when you saw me pining after him, were you rude to me because you were jealous? Have you been flirting with him, too?!” He exclaimed. “Or-” Jaskier was struck with sudden brilliance, a wicked smirk on his lips. “Were you jealous at the idea of sharing me?” He purred.

Yennefer stared at him like he was daft, then turned away as if to say ‘I won’t dignify that with an answer’. Jaskier knew it meant ‘yes’. He grinned and started to move out from behind the counter, intending to wipe down the tables and watch Geralt until he was out of sight. 

“Oh wait, Jaskier?” Yennefer called out. “Yes, my darling?” He simpered, feeling particularly high-spirited in spite of the fact that it wasn’t even 7 in the morning. In this life, Jaskier lived by a simple truth - you take what you can get, lest you slump into depressive sleep for the rest of your days.

“Can you clean up the bathroom? Someone threw a meat pie at the mirror in there and it’s splattered everywhere,” she dead-panned, before turning away like she hadn’t just single-handedly destroyed every shred of joy in his soul. 

“I hate you,” he exclaimed, though it did not slow her retreat. “Geralt would never make me do something like this!” He added confidently, knowing approximately two facts about the man (one of which was his name). Yennefer’s peals of laughter followed him as he resigned himself to bathroom duty. 

(Ok so I was a fool and had had a lot of this meta written up yesterday and instead of saving it as a draft while I watched critical role, I, like a fool, just left all the tabs open and then went to bed after the episode. Then firefox crashed in the night and everything was lost. Press F to pay respects I guess cause here I go again.)

First off, Aradia is best girl and I am so happy she's RELEVANT again. I had a whole preamble the last time I wrote this post, but I can't remember what it said other than mentioning that this is gonna be a long post beneath the cut and that I have other metas that will kind of overlap with what I'm saying in this one so I will try to keep my discussion of the narrative styles of the The Prince and The Muse to only what is relevant to this post and to what is RELEVANT. Also previous metas should be reblogged directly before I post this to make it easier to check them out before hand or to reference them more easily.

The main points of focus will be: The differences between how the two Time gods interact with The Muse and her narrative, as well as the general level of metatextual awareness of characters within Candy. | The juxtaposition of the Knight and the Maid. | The possible suppression of the Ultimate nature of The Knight, and by extension The Seer. | The Muse's unique state of power and presumed Awakening | I swear there was more but I flat out don't remember what they were.

One last thing. I am a rambly motherfucker so if you haven't read my previous metas, here's your warning to expect a very long and very chaotic mess of a post beneath the cut. Also for anyone confused anytime I emphasize someone as 'The Class' it's referring to their actions as a potential narrator and as an Ultimate Self. For example, the difference between The Muse and the Muse is that 'the Muse' would be for character moments like when the dead cherub possessing Jade's corpse in Candy is just talking with Davebot and Aradia, while 'The Muse' is for when talking about her influence over the narrative. (There's a lot of different ways I put emphasis on words or phrases, but “The Class” was the one I felt really might need clarification)

I find it interesting how Davebot acknowledges and shows distaste for The Muse interjecting her narration and thus inhibiting his ability to live in the moment. I find this interesting because as an Awakened god of Time, he is simultaneously living in every moment but as a Knight, and as The Knight, he is also intrinsically separate from those moments as he is the Ultimate One who Wields Time. Aradia on the other hand is the Maid of Time, who while almost assuredly having reached the pinnacle of her god tier after the hundreds of years we now know her to have lived, is not ascended to her Ultimate Self. As a Maid, Aradia literally embodies her aspect. As such she doesn't worry about living in the moment because she is the moment. Because of this Aradia is more prone to just accept, agree, and repeat the sentiments The Muse dictates in her constant exposition. However, despite acknowledging the narration, Davebot still ends up being incredibly passive in the face of it. Even though he has an Active class and is a dreamer of the Active moon, Dave himself has always come off as an incredibly passive character to me in a lot of ways. (Even the aspect of Time itself and its heroes are specifically denoted as incredibly Active in the {official and Canon} extended zodiac test [which means its contents are NECESSARY, RELEVANT, and TRUE]). Always acting under the direction of other characters, subject to The Lord's rule over Time, and constantly struggling with his seeming lack of control. Here, even after reaching his Ultimate Self, he still only makes passive-aggressive remarks instead leaving the flow of the story and the big decisions to others. (In my last post I went into deeper detail about the nature of, and relationship between Aradia and Dave's classes and how that affected their sessions, but I can't remember what the tie in was unfortunately so for now I'll leave it at this and move on)

Among the human players of sburb, the Strilondes have always been the most genre savvy and possessed the most awareness of the narrative and its' influence, (although Dave was never near the levels of Dirk and Rose). But up until this upd8, direct interactions with the narrative have been few and far between in Candy (at least as far as I can recall). I mentioned this in my previous meta as being a result of The Muse being the type to inspire characters to action whereas The Prince is far more heavy handed in is dictation and rarely attempts to hide his presence in the narration these days. But we see here once again, that not only is The Muse bad for the people under her influence, she's also just really not good at constructing a story. She relies too heavily on tropes and cliches, on plot contrivances; she tells too much and doesn't show enough, (something that should literally be her greatest strength as a Muse). Yet despite this, Davebot and Aradia are seen multiple times to interact with her dictations directly and Aradia even points out on page 284 that she is aware of The Muse “observing (their) every action and noting its relevance : )” (the emphasis on 'relevance' being mine). As such we can infer that it doesn't take an Ultimate Self to recognize The Muse's narration. But if not that, then what? If it was just pre-disposition of character that let them notice, then between her own abilities and self awareness, surely Candy!Rose would have by now, but she hasn't. Then is it proximity? Maybe The Muse is getting complacent and starting to unknowingly imitate The Prince and his methods? Or is it because both Davebot and Aradia are Heroes of Time? The aspect opposite The Muse's. After all, The Muse did express that the way (either Aradia specifically or that the both of them) experience time is “woefully unfamiliar” to her. Perhaps that makes it difficult for her to write a story that resonates with them fully. Whatever it may be, all the information up until this point doesn't come to a head so much as it is something that I believe to be RELEVANT.

With that, let us switch gears while keeping the previous information in mind. As I said before, in spite of all the active components of Davebot's Mythological Role, his character has often been passive. And the precise story beat I want to focus on right now is his Awakening to his Ultimate Self. Candy!Dave was out on patrol with a wife who he loved, but who also had very much always been the driving force of their dynamic. He was pulled to the ancient bunker by the narrative where a hologram of Obama expertly guided him through a conversation like a true politician, somehow knowing a lot about Dave while at the same time withholding “classified” information as if that word had any meaning without a country or government holding Obama accountable. (Unless of course Obama was still answering to someone... *Cough cough*the authors*cough cough*). Look, all of this is me saying that Obama was a leftover contrivance of The Prince that The Muse utilized for her own means. Dirk was a skilled programmer and engineer. He had a deep understanding of how to build AIs that could easily impersonate someone. He had an even deeper grasp of how to manipulate Dave. Dirk built the bots. The Bots. The bots that are supposedly NECESSARY for one to Awaken to their Ultimate Self and survive. And yet even if that is TRUE, it isn't true. The Prince claims he was a special case but his powers are of the soul, not the body. And it is the body that breaks down. And we know that Rose really was suffering in her path to Awakening, but I will remind you that her poor condition was first established through narration that we know was under the control of The Prince. Further more it happened prior to the Meat/Candy split, in which the Canon still possessed TRUTH, which is why it still remained RELEVANT in Candy (and it was obviously NECESSARY in Meat for reasons about to be discussed). Both Rose and Dave ultimately played a passive role in their Awakenings, guided to their Ultimate Self by another even though they are both Active players. I believe that The Prince established these rules about Ultimate Selves and built the robot bodies as a way to give him an upper hand against the two characters most likely to overtake him. Because to reinforce a point from a previous post, Rose is the only full on published author among the players and Dave himself has written comics and presumably screenplays for his films, making them the two people who might not only do a better job than The Prince or The Muse, but just do a flat out GOOD job. The Seer especially, which is why The Prince went through the extra effort to disrupt her sense of self as she was coming into her Ultimate Self. If these two had played an Active part in their own Awakening and without The Prince’s influence I think they both would’ve been quite capable of giving The Prince a run for his money. But the humans are not the only players in this game...

As I've already alluded to, Lord English (The Lord), was almost certainly his Ultimate Self. Awakened and Empowered by the treasure (a juju so powerful that it enabled John to retcon things in a way that overrides the timeline instead of splitting it, and it did so without even granting him its actual power). When The Knight awakened, The Muse described it has having all of Time flow through his consciousness, allowing him to experience every instance of his own self. Conversely Jade described that her Ultimate Self would be “like... one ultimate self distributed across multiple bodies. so in multiple places and states at once. every jade that exists is like a light being shined through a thousand cracks in the timeline.” (Hey remember those cracks in the universe that had light peaking through them? Idk, seems RELEVANT if you ask me.) So if we reasonably assume that ones aspect heavily affects how one's Ultimate Self first Awakens and how it operates than that means there will be similarities between those who share aspects. If Awakening for a Hero of Time is an experience of everything that ever has, is, or will happen to a version of themselves, and Lord English possessed a juju that allows one to retcon and not split, than the combination of those powers would make it so he could be the singular instance of himself while at the same time always be “Already Here” than there is truly no difference between Lord English and the theoretical Ultimate version of himself. And since the Muse consumed Lord English at the end of Candy, granting her the power to punch a wormhole in the black hole. This is also presumably where she gained the power to “...exist in several narrative structures at once” (pg 286) (also see the above explanation of Jade's Ultimate Self for why that is RELEVANT). Because of this, we can assume that The Muse is just as indistinguishable from her theoretical Ultimate Self as The Lord was. But these powers and this simultaneous existence is not without consequences because the Muse's collapse at the end of this chapter is almost assuredly a result of Meat!Jade's rebelling against The Muse in chapter 6 (specifically the action on page 167/168). And finally, to tie this back to the imposition of bodily destruction to those who Awaken their Ultimate Self, it is worth noting that The Muse does not possess a body of her own to be destroyed. Instead inhabiting the body of various Jades.

Alright, so once again sorry if you thought there would be some big culmination to this post, and hey, what pumpkin?

You Don't Know What You Don't Know

In today's information age, everyone's an expert. Broken dishwasher? Just YouTube it. Wondering who that actor is? IMDB it. Want a DIY chicken coop? Google it. Trying to find an unending stream of #fakenews and fear mongering? Log into Facebook. The problem is, well… we don't always know what the actual problem is. We see the symptoms. We know what we want—the end result—but we're not always sure how to get there. And a quick Google search is all we have the patience for before we jump to conclusions and then blame someone or something else for our failure. Take my recent plunge into fishkeeping, for example.

I've always been an animal lover. I think it's innate in all of us, but not everyone has the right disposition or upbringing to appreciate animal/plant husbandry. As for me, I grew up in the Missouri wilderness surrounded by ponds, cliffs, streams, fields, and forests. Sure, I spent my fair share of time on the Super Nintendo System, but being in the great outdoors was engrained in me from a young age. And more than that, I learned to appreciate the other things out there. I kept just about every animal you could imagine at one time or another (dogs, cats, birds, fish, lizards, frogs, newts, rodents of all varieties, snakes, chickens, geese, goats, a squirrel, a ferret, a raccoon, and even a short-tailed opossum, off the top of my head), and though I was pretty irresponsible with most of them (ignoring for a second that I should have just left them where I found them in nature), I loved nurturing them, and I kept most of them alive. So when my city-girl daughter said she wanted a fish for her fourth birthday, a little piece of my past reignited, and I… may have gone a little overboard.

First, my mom still had the 35-gallon aquarium she bought me for my birthday a couple of decades ago. Back then I just winged it. I didn't have Google. I didn't come from a long line of aquarists. I just filled the thing up with well water, a cheap bag of gravel, a log I found floating in my pond, and the cheapest fish I could find at my local Walmart (yes, Walmart sold fish back then). Of course the tank was full of algae and dead fish in no time, but I kept at it, and eventually I had a few fish that didn't eat each other, but ultimately it wasn't what I knew it could be, so I set the fish "free" in my pond and put a snake in the tank instead.

I used the tank again in college with similar results, only this time I had a filter, did occasional water changes, and had just a few friendly fish, so it was much more successful, though still very "low tech," as they say in the hobby. Since then, I've matured (please hold all sarcasm until the end), and I've learned the value of researching something before attempting it. The change started in physical therapy school when I spent countless hours dissecting and writing scientific papers. It was the literal worst, but it taught me so much about the world. Rather, it taught me how to learn about any particular aspect of the world. You see, in these classes, we weren't allowed to just read the abstract and regurgitate the experimenters' assumptions. We had to read every line, go back and read every line of the sources they cited, and then, once we understood every word, we could start forming our own opinions on the subject. And believe it or not, I rarely found a paper that wasn't skewed toward the writer's desired result in some small way.

So now we get to the heart of things—you don't know what you don't know until you know it. And you won't know it unless you put in the time. We're living in an age of instant gratification. Because there's so much information out there, we only have time to skim. Otherwise we wouldn't have any time to actually live. I recently ran across an inspiration quote by science fiction author Robert Heinlein's character, Lazarus Long:

"A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects."

Sure. Easy for Lazarus to say. As his name suggests, he was over 200 years old and counting at the time of his above quotation (and that's to say nothing of Heinlein's, uh, colorful political and philosophical views). But even still, his words are a nice sentiment, and they resonate with our current zeitgeist. We all want to be experts at everything, but we just don't have the time to do it. So we become Jacks-of-all-trades, and masters of none. And thus, with the dehumanizing help of social media, we get into a lot of stupid fights.

But I digress. Back to my aquarium example. Giving in to my excitement and desire for my daughter to experience thy "joys" of fishkeeping, I reverted to the impulsiveness of my youth. And of the twelve fish I bought those first few months, I killed half of them. Why? Because I didn't take the time to learn about taking a new tank through the nitrogen cycle. I knew nothing of ammonium, nitrite, or nitrate. I didn't know how to promote bacterial colonies in the filter media. And when I decided to add a few live plants to the mix, I didn't know the difference between submersed and submerged, or that PetCo didn't care about selling you "aquatic" plants that would die 100% of the time if completely under water. And that's saying nothing about water pH, alkalinity, fertilizers (NPK, micronutrients, root tabs versus liquid fertilizers, etc), carbon (CO2) availability, substrate differences, etc., etc. I just thought, "these are pretty" with dozens of plants and fish from completely different, delicately balanced ecosystems around the world, and then expected them to flourish when crammed together in the petri dish that was my, er, my daughter's aquarium.

I'll be the first to say that I suck at chemistry. It was the only "C" I received in college. Too many dry facts and things I couldn't visualize. Too much like math. But over the past few months, I've forced myself to dig into the periodic table and the chemical processes of dozens of elements and compounds in order to BEGIN understanding the aquatic world. I'm still so far away from having a solid grasp on the process, but at least I now know what I don't know. And that's a start. And it's a valuable reminder of the ignorance of mankind.

As a physical therapist, it often baffles me when my highly intelligent friends and family don't understand their own bodies. These people are experts in their fields. They're fluent in areas that I'll never even begin to understand. And yet, they can't figure out the simplest causes of their own various aches and pains. And thus, they become easy prey for fad diets, snake oils, and cure-alls. In health and fitness, especially, our connected, opinion-fueled society is playing the willing victim. Like politics and philosophy, we all know there are problems, and we see "experts" offering their solutions constantly, and social media algorithms are feeding into this problem by inundating our news feeds with like-minded (no matter how wrong) individuals. We think, "Hey, everything I see reinforces my ideas, so the must be right!" But really, we're still living in the same high-walled isolation we've always lived in. We just have weapons that can shoot farther now.

So remember, if you haven't spent hundreds of hours researching and forming your opinion, you're probably not right. Maybe you have an idea. It may even be a good idea. But life is complex. It spans millennia of philosophers, scientists, and soldiers. Even if WebMD says you have terminal cancer, you should still probably see an actual MD before you throw in the towel. Because, contrary to Lazarus Long's inspiring sentiment, humanity can still find value in specialization. Life is rich and deep, so take the time to dig.

Steve Dayton and Garfield Logan Relationship...or...Why I’m about to defend Mento... Part 2

Okay so onto the point in the story where we talk about Young Justice and the Doom Patrol Go scene and Gar’s relationship with Steve in this story. I”m going to try to be as honest as I can here, I actually feel for both Gar and Steve. Why? Because I think Steve is legit trying to be a good father to Gar and Gar, just can’t see it that way. 

Let me explain: 

When we get Gar’s memories they are, save for his mother’s death, all connected to tv shows. The reason being is that the death’s of the other people are affecting him but in vastly different ways and he’s not really processing them well. 

This brings us to Steve, Gar and Rita.

So let’s start this in chronological order for the events that are taking place here. Rita, at some point, becomes Elasti-girl, due (probably) to the actions of Chief and doesn’t know it and joins the Doom Patrol, during this time where she meets (more than likely) well off Steve Dayton who has mental powers but probably doesn’t have it upped like the other members of the team. 

Steve, my guess, built the helmet and the two got married after falling in love. I’m betting that Rita probably invited Marie and Gar to the wedding but Gar probably didn’t remember because he was small or something like that. So when Marie died and Gar went to live with Rita he was introduced to Mento who, again because Steve is known for being a distant type of character who doesn’t know how to best express his feelings and keeps them locked up (think a stiffer version of Mob from Mob Psycho 101)  thus he comes off as a jerk. 

As we know Gar’s a hyper kid with a lot going on emotionally and Steve, if you read the comics, has his own issues and self doubt. So it’s no surprise that the two probably didn’t get along because both need attention from Rita. For Gar it was more along the lines of probably needing a mother figure, for Steve it’s more to do with him being unsure of himself due to his own mental issues  and self doubt of Rita’s feelings for him. (Like after all why would a hot former actress like her like a nerdy guy like him, it’s that sort of mentality.) 

So the two probably crossed each other in ways that they don’t get one another. However it’s clear from the fact that Steve was with them during the Doom Patrol song that he was, at least, there during the event of their death. 

Now to counter a few things in Gar’s mind.

Item number 1: 

Okay so, there are two forms of the death of the Doom Patrol. Death one was before the events of Crises on Infinite earth’s where the team was captured and chose to die. But the more relevant story is the one that was done post crises. 

So the Patrol went on a mission to stop Madam Rouge, a woman that the Chief was trying to get to join the team, and screwed her up mentally. She decided to get revenge with an ally and attacked a town. The members of the team each died protecting someone. Steve, while being the strongest in the mind and can fight that way, is also the weakest when it comes to physical fighting. So it would be no surprise to me if his “Chickening out” as Gar’s mind puts it, was actually Rita protecting him, and Gar not wanting to believe that Steve was saved by her. Thus he invented this idea of Steve booking it over being at the event. 

Item 2: 

Steve’s guilt. This is something that is actually from the comics. Steve has always had a guilt complex over being able to survive his wife. He loved Rita, more than anything in the world, and her death affected him in ways that we don’t know as of yet. Given his penchant for falling into a depressive state I have no doubt that the whole “Hide in shame for years” may be connected to his own depression over his late wife and being unable to stop it. 

Again, Steve has his own mental issues, and because of this, everything can be worse for him, particularly dealing with grief. So what Gar sees as hiding in shame, more than likely was a case of Steve feeling guilt and probably felt incapable at the time of taking care of Gar due to his own depression. 

I get the strong feeling that Steve, in these years, has been getting help. For all his standoffishness, Steve is no idiot and probably felt that the best thing to do was to get help for himself after a point when he realized that his wallowing in pitty wasn’t going to fix anything. 

So what happens? Item 3: 

Now this is interesting because it brings up a serious question of, did Rita have Steve on as Gar’s adopted father. We know for fact in the comic he was, but for  the show here, it’s up in the air until we get more information. 

This brings up the second part of this: 

So what’s going on here. We know that this is all from Gar’s perspective, so I’d like to weigh in with a few theories. 

Option 1: Steve knows Megan from Jo’nn and agreed to allow Miss Martian to take care of Gar due to the fact that she seemed to be able to handle it until which point that Steve was better and able to take on his responsibly again as a parent. Sort of a Foster care situation. 

Option 2: Megan did not know Steve before a specific date but because of the fact that Megan looked like Marie and in his state Steve felt that someone that had the appearance of his dead wife’s friend could be trusted, he allowed Megan to take care of beast boy. 

Option 3: This is the worst case situation in my mind. Megan, seeing Steve being depressed, and thinking that she could have a better handle on Gar, used her ablities to push Steve into allowing her to take on Gar, by manipulating the fact that she did look like Marie and her mental powers to persuade him into allowing for it to happen. We know from season 2 that she was doing that on Super boy, it’s not too far a jump to see her doing that on Steve. 

All three could be an option, unless the Comic’s have said how Gar came to live with her, I could see why (espeically number three if Steve realized, due to his own mental ablities, that he was tricked) he would want to get him back from them. 

Then there’s the added on factor of Steve feeling fear for Gar’s life. We know that Gar was in danger during the Reach invasion. I have a feeling that part of this deal with Steve was that Gar could go to learn to control his powers and the like, as long as he probably wasn’t in any dangerous situations. This was broken with the invasion and Steve, rightly, probably was scared of losing his son the same way he lost his wife. 

Again, Steve is not someone who can say “I love you and I don’t want to see you die Garfield,” because that sort of thing he’s not good at. And because of that all Gar sees is someone taking him away from Megan. 

Item 4: 

I don’t believe this at all. There’s enough proof in the episode to show that this isn’t true, as well as the comics to show that it’s not true. 

Steve owns Daytech, his company that makes all sorts of holographic and other machines that can be used for various companies. This means that he’s not want for money. 

So what is really going on here. Well a few things I think. 

Firstly I get the feeling that Steve probably knows that Gar doesn’t like him, as with the moment of “Thank God” happens (and honestly I think Mento is going to end up helping his son later by the end of the story and the two will make up). And Gar feels that Steve doesn’t care about him, and this couldn’t be farther from the truth. 

We know that Steve is Gar’s manager, this means that he picked which shows that Gar would appear on. Now having someone as talented as Gar, given that he wants to be an actor, you could have picked any show. But what does Steve pick? A show specifically that: 

A. has the former male lead of Hello Megan playing the leading man.

B. has the head of the company known for her wholesome and caring disposition. 

c. a show that embodies the old fashioned energy that Hello Megan stood for

d. Allows Gar to use his abilities and be himself without having to put on make up or other things to disguise his skin color. 

These are all really important factors to take into account. 

Firstly the point about the other actor: 

We know that the Captain of the show is the romantic lead from the Hello Megan show, and because of that it means that he probably has memories that he can share with Gar about Rita and Marie. What does that mean? Well it means that Gar now has a way to connect to his mother and Rita as a young man that he could not before because Steve probably doesn’t like talking about it. So best way to help his son with the memories of his late wife and Gar’s mom, have him connect to a man who knew them personally for a few seasons and probably remained friends with both for a while after. 

Second point is in regard to Gretchen Goodie and her production. 

Granny here Reminds Gar that the show is build on the same ideas that Hello Megan is build upon. That old fashioned sort of feeling. This tells me that Steve was actively looking for that sort of opportunity for Gar, to give him a place where he feels like he’s with people that like him and where he can create a show that reaches kids the same way his mom’s show reached Megan. 

We also see that he’s not 100% trusting of this woman because he doesn’t seem to like having her around Gar for too long, so I take it that he’s maybe sensing something off with her. Remember Steve is a Meta, though it’s lower than Megan’s powers, he can read minds and the like, and would know that Granny may not be all she claims, but he’s not about to pull Gar out because he probably can’t read her mind, and Gar’s enjoying himself on the job, thus making his son happy. 

Even if Steve has some questions on Granny, he can’t exactly prove it, since he probably can’t read her mind the same way he could probably read others given who she is. To him, she may come off as a business person that has decent goals in mind, and someone that he assumes, at the very least, has some idea of what Hello Megan was about and has some desires for a good and close knit work environment for Gar to belong in. Granny’s sales pitch to Gar about Goode World Studios sounds like something she used on Steve as well, mentioning Rita is always a way to get 

We know that he does seem to care about where Gar is going to be going, that he wants to talk to Gretchen about something and she avoids him. Something tells me that Steve’s been watching things in regard to how Gar’s being treated there and he may be wondering just what is going on. 

As for the last one, I think that’s the big deal with Steve in regard to Gar. for this job. Anywhere else Gar would have to cover up his looks, but here on a space show he can be seen as he is and be shown to be proud of his green skin. If Steve was really in this for the money, he wouldn’t have put Gar in a show where the good he can do is still an option. He wouldn’t have picked a show where Gar’s green natural look could be used. He certainly wouldn’t have allowed for Gar to pretty much do whatever he wanted in regard to dating whomever he picked. 

In any other Job Gar wouldn’t be the Star, he’d be the bad guy, the alien, the monster, or the Special Effect. Here he’s using what he learned on the team and we see him becoming someone that is far more powerful as a person and coming into his own. Steve, in his own weird way, is fostering that even more given that he’s letting him make his own choices for the most part. 

Another factor we have to take into account here is the reason why Steve went back after Gar. 

He seems to think it’s for money, but I think it’s more for keeping him safe. When Gar mentions the name Mento to Steve, Steve’s reaction is to bristle and become very blunt and raw. 

“Don’t...call me...Mento...” it’s clear that the name hits him like a truck, and reminds him of his past. One that he can’t change. Rita is gone, and the time that he spent with her is gone, and now he’s with a boy that possibly hates him. Yet his tone shifts when asking if Gar is going to be home, he’s clearly wanting to know where he’s going and worried. It’s even in the slight shift in his face, showing concern. It’s very quick, but it’s there. 

We naturally want to side with Gar on this issue, and we know given the trailer that he’s going to want to team up again with the team. However, I have the feeling that Steve is going to be against this. And with good reason, being a part of the YJ team could end up harming Gar, and Steve more than likely does not want his son being hurt. 

Being on set where he’s in a controlled environment and having a part in a show that shows off the adventures is one thing. Being in an adventure where you could die is another. And I think that was the reason why Steve went back after Gar in the first place. He realized that Gar could be killed, that the one person in the world that probably means more to him than he’s willing to admit to could die again leaving him utterly alone, is placing himself in danger probably was more than he could bare. 

To me, at least, Steve actually seems like a good person that’s wrapped in a hard shell that he’s afraid of cracking again. He loves Gar, there is no doubt of that, but he doesn’t know how to deal with those feelings as he’s scared of being hurt again. So he pushes him away, or at least keeps his distance. 

My worry, is that they’re going to use Steve for a Jake Drake like story. This would be connected to the idea that Jake Drake, Tim’s dad, was killed when Boomerang, came into his house to attack him as part of a bigger plan by Eclipso. I really don’t want Gar to have to lose Steve too, because for all their issues, Steve is known for caring deeply about the well being of Gar and loves him unconditionally, even if he’s not that great at showing it. 

Added to this, there’s still the mystery of who Gar’s real dad is. There are hints it could be Marie’s former co-star, but I don’t see them going that way. I could though see it being someone that Steve realized might exploit Gar though and he went to get him before that could happen. We don’t know who Gar’s father is, but we do known that whoever it is would have had to have been someone that Marie knew before her trip to Quriac. 

To add to this too, I think that the show is at least exploring some of the opposing nature of three characters and their role as “father” figures. Steve and Gar, vs. Gar and his god father  (who for the record didn’t remember where Gar’s mom went to, where as Steve seems to show a sense of understanding of Gar’s life) and Victor and Silas Stone and how their relationship is working out. 

It’s an interesting concept and I hope that Steve and Gar wind up in a better loving relationship by the end of this season. It would be nice to see Mento getting some love as a caring father, as it was shown in Teen Titans that he did care deeply for Gar but again, he didn’t know how to show it. 

Hope this makes sense and you guys find it interesting. 

The Acts of the Apostles, pp. 419-427: Chapter (39) The Trial at Caesarea

This chapter is based on Acts 24.

Five days after Paul's arrival at Caesarea his accusers came from Jerusalem, accompanied by Tertullus, an orator whom they had engaged as their counsel. The case was granted a speedy hearing. Paul was brought before the assembly, and Tertullus “began to accuse him.” Judging that flattery would have more influence upon the Roman governor than the simple statements of truth and justice, the wily orator began his speech by praising Felix: “Seeing that by thee we enjoy great quietness, and that very worthy deeds are done unto this nation by thy providence, we accept it always, and in all places, most noble Felix, with all thankfulness.”

Tertullus here descended to barefaced falsehood; for the character of Felix was base and contemptible. It was said of him, that “in the practice of all kinds of lust and cruelty, he exercised the power of a king with the temper of a slave.” —Tacitus, History, ch. 5, par. 9. Those who heard Tertullus knew that his flattering words were untrue, but their desire to secure the condemnation of Paul was stronger than their love of truth.

In his speech, Tertullus charged Paul with crimes which, if proved, would have resulted in his conviction for high treason against the government. “We have found this man a pestilent fellow,” declared the orator, “and a mover of sedition among all the Jews throughout the world, and a ringleader of the sect of the Nazarenes: who also hath gone about to profane the temple.” Tertullus then stated that Lysias, the commandant of the garrison at Jerusalem, had violently taken Paul from the Jews when they were about to judge him by their ecclesiastical law, and had thus forced them to bring the matter before Felix. These statements were made with the design of inducing the procurator to deliver Paul over to the Jewish court. All the charges were vehemently supported by the Jews present, who made no effort to conceal their hatred of the prisoner.

Felix had sufficient penetration to read the disposition and character of Paul's accusers. He knew from what motive they had flattered him, and he saw also that they had failed to substantiate their charges against Paul. Turning to the accused, he beckoned to him to answer for himself. Paul wasted no words in compliments, but simply stated that he could the more cheerfully defend himself before Felix, since the latter had been so long a procurator, and therefore had so good an understanding of the laws and customs of the Jews. Referring to the charges brought against him, he plainly showed that not one of them was true. He declared that he had caused no disturbance in any part of Jerusalem, nor had he profaned the sanctuary. “They neither found me in the temple disputing with any man,” he said, “neither raising up the people, neither in the synagogues, nor in the city: neither can they prove the things whereof they now accuse me.”

While confessing that “after the way which they call heresy” he had worshiped the God of his fathers, he asserted that he had always believed “all things which are written in the law and in the prophets;” and that in harmony with the plain teaching of the Scriptures, he held the faith of the resurrection of the dead. And he further declared that the ruling purpose of his life was to “have always a conscience void of offense toward God, and toward men.”

In a candid, straightforward manner he stated the object of his visit to Jerusalem, and the circumstances of his arrest and trial: “Now after many years I came to bring alms to my nation, and offerings. Whereupon certain Jews from Asia found me purified in the temple, neither with multitude, nor with tumult. Who ought to have been here before thee, and object, if they had aught against me. Or else let these same here say, if they have found any evil doing in me, while I stood before the council, except it be for this one voice, that I cried standing among them, Touching the resurrection of the dead I am called in question by you this day.”

The apostle spoke with earnestness and evident sincerity, and his words carried with them a weight of conviction. Claudius Lysias, in his letter to Felix, had borne a similar testimony in regard to Paul's conduct. Moreover, Felix himself had a better knowledge of the Jewish religion than many supposed. Paul's plain statement of the facts in the case enabled Felix to understand still more clearly the motives by which the Jews were governed in attempting to convict the apostle of sedition and treasonable conduct. The governor would not gratify them by unjustly condemning a Roman citizen, neither would he give him up to them to be put to death without a fair trial. Yet Felix knew no higher motive than self-interest, and he was controlled by love of praise and a desire for promotion. Fear of offending the Jews held him back from doing full justice to a man whom he knew to be innocent. He therefore decided to suspend the trial until Lysias should be present, saying, “When Lysias the chief captain shall come down, I will know the uttermost of your matter.”

The apostle remained a prisoner, but Felix commanded the centurion who had been appointed to keep Paul, “to let him have liberty,” and to “forbid none of his acquaintance to minister or come unto him.”

It was not long after this that Felix and his wife, Drusilla, sent for Paul in order that in a private interview they might hear from him “concerning the faith in Christ.” They were willing and even eager to listen to these new truths—truths which they might never hear again and which, if rejected, would prove a swift witness against them in the day of God.

Paul regarded this as a God-given opportunity, and faithfully he improved it. He knew that he stood in the presence of one who had power to put him to death or to set him free; yet he did not address Felix and Drusilla with praise or flattery. He knew that his words would be to them a savor of life or of death, and, forgetting all selfish considerations, he sought to arouse them to a sense of their peril.

The apostle realized that the gospel had a claim upon whoever might listen to his words; that one day they would stand either among the pure and holy around the great white throne, or with those to whom Christ would say, “Depart from Me, ye that work iniquity.” Matthew 7:23. He knew that he must meet every one of his hearers before the tribunal of heaven and must there render an account, not only for all that he had said and done, but for the motive and spirit of his words and deeds.

So violent and cruel had been the course of Felix that few had ever before dared even to intimate to him that his character and conduct were not faultless. But Paul had no fear of man. He plainly declared his faith in Christ, and the reasons for that faith, and was thus led to speak particularly of those virtues essential to Christian character, but of which the haughty pair before him were so strikingly destitute.

He held up before Felix and Drusilla the character of God—His righteousness, justice, and equity, and the nature of His law. He clearly showed that it is man's duty to live a life of sobriety and temperance, keeping the passions under the control of reason, in conformity to God's law, and preserving the physical and mental powers in a healthy condition. He declared that there would surely come a day of judgment when all would be rewarded according to the deeds done in the body, and when it would be plainly revealed that wealth, position, or titles are powerless to gain for man the favor of God or to deliver him from the results of sin. He showed that this life is man's time of preparation for the future life. Should he neglect present privileges and opportunities he would suffer an eternal loss; no new probation would be given him.

Paul dwelt especially upon the far-reaching claims of God's law. He showed how it extends to the deep secrets of man's moral nature and throws a flood of light upon that which has been concealed from the sight and knowledge of men. What the hands may do or the tongue may utter—what the outer life reveals—but imperfectly shows man's moral character. The law searches his thoughts, motives, and purposes. The dark passions that lie hidden from the sight of men, the jealousy, hatred, lust, and ambition, the evil deeds meditated upon in the dark recesses of the soul, yet never executed for want of opportunity—all these God's law condemns.

Paul endeavored to direct the minds of his hearers to the one great Sacrifice for sin. He pointed to the sacrifices that were shadows of good things to come, and then presented Christ as the antitype of all those ceremonies—the object to which they pointed as the only source of life and hope for fallen man. Holy men of old were saved by faith in the blood of Christ. As they saw the dying agonies of the sacrificial victims they looked across the gulf of ages to the Lamb of God that was to take away the sin of the world.

God justly claims the love and obedience of all His creatures. He has given them in His law a perfect standard of right. But many forget their Maker and choose to follow their own way in opposition to His will. They return enmity for love that is as high as heaven and as broad as the universe. God cannot lower the requirements of His law to meet the standard of wicked men; neither can man in his own power meet the demands of the law. Only by faith in Christ can the sinner be cleansed from guilt and be enabled to render obedience to the law of his Maker.

Thus Paul, the prisoner, urged the claims of the divine law upon Jew and Gentile, and presented Jesus, the despised Nazarene, as the Son of God, the world's Redeemer.

The Jewish princess well understood the sacred character of that law which she had so shamelessly transgressed, but her prejudice against the Man of Calvary steeled her heart against the word of life. But Felix had never before listened to the truth, and as the Spirit of God sent conviction to his soul, he became deeply agitated. Conscience, now aroused, made her voice heard, and Felix felt that Paul's words were true. Memory went back over the guilty past. With terrible distinctness there came up before him the secrets of his early life of profligacy and bloodshed, and the black record of his later years. He saw himself licentious, cruel, rapacious. Never before had the truth been thus brought home to his heart. Never before had his soul been so filled with terror. The thought that all the secrets of his career of crime were open before the eye of God, and that he must be judged according to his deeds, caused him to tremble with dread.

But instead of permitting his convictions to lead him to repentance, he sought to dismiss these unwelcome reflections. The interview with Paul was cut short. “Go thy way for this time,” he said; “when I have a convenient season, I will call for thee.”

How wide the contrast between the course of Felix and that of the jailer of Philippi! The servants of the Lord were brought in bonds to the jailer, as was Paul to Felix. The evidence they gave of being sustained by a divine power, their rejoicing under suffering and disgrace, their fearlessness when the earth was reeling with the earthquake shock, and their spirit of Christlike forgiveness, sent conviction to the jailer's heart, and with trembling he confessed his sins and found pardon. Felix trembled, but he did not repent. The jailer joyfully welcomed the Spirit of God to his heart and to his home; Felix bade the divine Messenger depart. The one chose to become a child of God and an heir of heaven; the other cast his lot with the workers of iniquity.

For two years no further action was taken against Paul, yet he remained a prisoner. Felix visited him several times and listened attentively to his words. But the real motive for this apparent friendliness was a desire for gain, and he intimated that by the payment of a large sum of money Paul might secure his release. The apostle, however, was of too noble a nature to free himself by a bribe. He was not guilty of any crime, and he would not stoop to commit a wrong in order to gain freedom. Furthermore, he was himself too poor to pay such a ransom, had he been disposed to do so, and he would not, in his own behalf, appeal to the sympathy and generosity of his converts. He also felt that he was in the hands of God, and he would not interfere with the divine purposes respecting himself.

Felix was finally summoned to Rome because of gross wrongs committed against the Jews. Before leaving Caesarea in answer to this summons, he thought to “show the Jews a pleasure” by allowing Paul to remain in prison. But Felix was not successful in his attempt to regain the confidence of the Jews. He was removed from office in disgrace, and Porcius Festus was appointed to succeed him, with headquarters at Caesarea.

A ray of light from heaven had been permitted to shine upon Felix, when Paul reasoned with him concerning righteousness, temperance, and a judgment to come. That was his heaven-sent opportunity to see and to forsake his sins. But he said to the messenger of God, “Go thy way for this time; when I have a convenient season, I will call for thee.” He had slighted his last offer of mercy. Never was he to receive another call from God.

How She Saved Her Hopeless Marriage

By Zhang Lei

Recently, it has become a hot topic on the Internet that incompatible outlook on world, life, and value is the main cause of a marriage reaching an impasse. The incompatible outlook doesn’t refer to a husband and wife having different interests. Instead, it means that when one has different interests, hobbies and lifestyles from the other, he will blindly reject any decisions of the other one, and even force the other to live according to his own lifestyle. When a married couple can’t reach agreement due to their different interests, they usually lose their temper and get into a quarrel or war because neither of them will give in. If it should continue like this, their marriage will be brought to an end.

I once had such a marriage life because of the different interests between my husband and me. For example, he likes traveling around for sightseeing while I like staying at home. When he asked me to accompany him to travel, not only would I refuse, but instead I would say it was spending money for suffering, and that I’d rather buy some delicious food or nice clothes. This made his good mood grow bad. Besides, it should have been a good thing to buy a new automobile, but because he loved SUVs and I liked cars, neither of us gave way to the other: When he happily drove an SUV home, I ignored him with a long face. And because of that, we got into a cold war and didn’t talk for one month. One more thing, I liked gardening; however, my husband not only didn’t help do the watering but mocked me and said I was getting nothing better to do. … As time passed, due to our incompatible outlook, we would come into conflict before we talked more. Like this, we talked less and less, and then we even talked nothing. My husband got home later and later; even when he occasionally came back early, he would play with his phone. Seeing his happy and released expression in chatting with his friends on WeChat, I felt upset. As a husband and wife, we were supposed to be intimates, but we were just like strangers. I felt our relationship was a bitter satire on our marriage.

One day, I cooked two bowls of noodles for our breakfast. He took only two bites when he said to me, “I don’t like noodles at all, but you cook them every day. You can cook something else for a change. Don’t always cook noodles.” “I only like noodles. If you don’t like them, then don’t eat.” I replied disgruntledly. Hearing my words, my husband violently pushed his bowl toward me and got the noodle soup to splash onto the table, onto the floor, and onto me. He said crossly, “We were simply enemies in the past life!” Then he slammed the door and went away. Seeing his attitude, I was heartbroken: We are just in our forties, but we two have been incompatible like fire and water. How are we to get on in future? Rather than living in such pain, we’d better separate from each other. With tears I packed my things, drew up a divorce settlement, and put it on his bedside cupboard. In the following week, he didn’t sign it, but just smoked and smoked, coughing badly. We both felt sad about our broken relationship. I thought: Naturally a husband and wife sleep in one bed and should be the most intimate partners. But my husband and I are getting stranger and stranger, as if there were a gulf that couldn’t be bridged between us. Coming to where we are today, what on earth is wrong? If I had foreseen my marriage life would be like this, then I would rather haven’t gotten married. However, marriage isn’t like a piece of cloth which can be thrown away if I don’t like it. After all, our son has grown up. But what should I do to change our situation? I was thrown into confusion …

Until later, I saw the word of God: “The source of man’s opposition and rebelliousness against God is his corruption by Satan. Because he has been corrupted by Satan, man’s conscience has grown numb, he is immoral, his thoughts are degenerate, and he has a backward mental outlook. Before he was corrupted by Satan, man naturally followed God and obeyed His words. He was naturally of sound sense and conscience, and of normal humanity. After being corrupted by Satan, his original sense, conscience, and humanity grew dull and were impaired by Satan. Thus, he has lost his obedience and love toward God.”

Only from God’s word did I come to know why my husband and I lived such a painful life. Because after our corruption by Satan, we are of less and less human likeness, and all that we reveal are satanic corrupt dispositions: arrogance, superciliousness and selfishness. This results in people being unable to get along well with each other, and so it is with husbands and wives. Thinking back on these years when my husband and I lived together, no matter what I did, I took myself as the boss. When we had different opinions, being controlled by my self-righteous satanic nature, I would hold to myself and force him to do things according to my will, not considering him in the slightest, much less having a heart of loving him. As a result, we often quarreled and gave each other the cold shoulder; we were unable to enjoy a harmonious life that a husband and wife should have had. And I lived in pain every day, even to the point of wanting a divorce. Having understood these, I was suddenly awakened. And then, I came before God to speak my mind to Him, “God, I once walked hopefully into the marriage hall, and dreamed of us loving and supporting each other to the end of our lives. But in real life, we become more and more estranged. And now our marriage even exists in name only. Dear God, thank You for guiding me with Your words and letting me find out why our marriage reach a dead end. God, I want to save our marriage and change our situation. May You help me.”

Afterward, I saw the following passage in Sermons and Fellowship on Entry Into Life: “We should not impose our preference on others, much less force others to accept what we dislike—this is not making others do things they are unwilling to do. When doing things, we should take account not only of our own interests, but also of others’. Besides, we should learn to be more considerate to others, to benefit them and to listen to their opinions more. If others have some shortcomings or do something wrong that is unfavorable to us, we should treat them correctly instead of finding fault with them or taking vengeance on them, we should learn to fellowship about the truth to help them achieve changes, and we should have an accurate appraisal of them. In this way, there will be no difficulties in getting on with others.” Yes. If we can respect, love, consider and understand each other, if we don’t arrogantly ask others to listen to us but can understand and support their interests, and if we don’t force them to live according to our own lifestyles, then we can get along well with each other. In that case, how can our marriage fall into a dilemma? Therefore, I made up my mind to act based on these words. Only thus could I resolve the conflict between my husband and me and live harmoniously together with him.

In the following days, I tried to not interfere with his way of life. Not long after, he said he would have a trip to Shennongjia with his friends. That’s a place where I thought there was nothing worth visiting but mountains and trees. Besides, he would drive there; who knows how much petrol would be burnt. It was simply a waste of money. When I was about to say “I don’t think it’s worth visiting,” I suddenly remembered the word of God: “Everything that happens to people is when God needs them to stand firm in their testimony to Him. Nothing major has happened to you at the moment, and you do not bear great testimony, but every detail of your daily life relates to the testimony to God.” I realized that my corrupt satanic disposition was going to flare up and so I told myself inwardly: I can no longer ask of my husband to live according to my interests like before. I should practice the truth to treat him with love and respect his interests and hobbies; only in this way can I have a normal humanity and bear witness for God. Thinking of this, I hurriedly prayed to God asking Him to keep me from being self-centered again. After my prayer, my heart calmed down and I said to him, “If you want to have a trip, then just go. After all, traveling is your hobby.” At my words, my husband looked at me with surprise. I felt a little embarrassed, saying, “In the past I went too far. Not only did I not support your hobbies, but I always got sarcastic with you, and even tried to change your interests and hobbies into the same ones as mine. All of these result in us coming into conflicts, being like strangers, and almost getting divorced. Today, God’s word has made me understand that this thought and behavior of mine all come from my conceited satanic disposition. From now on, I will put God’s word into practice. I won’t force you to act according to my interests, and I should accept and support what you like, and learn to live out a normal humanity in accordance with God’s word.” Seeing my sincere attitude, my husband also said with a smile, “I was wrong, too. I also wanted to impose my interests on you. I can’t do this to you anymore.”

My husband was gone on his trip. He uploaded some pictures of scenery he took along his way to WeChat Moments, and for the first time, I liked the posts of his pictures and left a message “Have a nice trip!” I no longer took digs at him about his interests, but instead I tried to accept and support them. At ordinary times, I also tried to speak my mind to him, and asked for his advice on my own initiative when I had some ideas. Gradually, he also could open his heart to me and be supportive to my hobbies. From then on, our house started to be filled with laughter. This was all because of God’s guidance. It was God’s word that made me walk out of the impasse of marriage caused by incompatible outlook. Only God can save us from pain.

Few Clouds, 6°C

The first three chapters is up here, on this site. Read now!!!

○□♤Title:Molly's Plan's ○□♤Genre:Romantic Comedy ○□♤Plot:This story has to do with Molly and her personality; and how she aquires true love and falls for another man at a sequential time, and then makes two men fight for her love. ○□♤Characters: Molly~main character Sushanna~her best friend Mollys father~Leon Her first love~Francis Her therapist~Regina A world-wide scholar~Phil Jackson Mollys cousin~Jen Mollys pastor~Michael and several other minor characters.

Conflict scenes will come later...😊

Epilogue: The scenario

I was standing by the bedpost; all in tears after I found out the games she was playing with my head. I cant fall for her lies anymore. Though, it was a definite turn on and fantasy, as well as to add on that it was a miraculous disposition.  Besides, I was too old for games. It was just one thing after another, and though I liked fun and games, I was getting too old for this stuff. She might be the best at her game; but mine was starting to fall apart whether she knew it or not. He added a side note to this long letter he thought she would like and keep it as precious and something meaningful to her. After all, I was the one who really loved her. Who was this other guy other than just a shadow of what was stopping us from being together. Something, that she had slipped from her tongue, and I was hers forever. She would have the audacity to question me about it later. I would succumb to one word replies like yes, no, maybe, maybe so, definitely maybe, never, or I don't know. Whatever the case,  I wanted to state my feelings virtually and to the point before she loses me forever. She would be home in a few hours and I would be there, and also a shadow of his spirit floating amidst the both of us. She would have to proclaim her feelings before anything comes along and ruins the plan.

Chapter 1: The interrogation Molly was hailing a cab to the visitors house. Her love lest it be known, in which she would be succumbing to all her feelings and be swept away over his lovingly charms. She couldnt predict what was to come (although sometimes she felt she was able to have super-human strength abilities). But, maybe that was another perception on things.  She couldnt wait to be in his arms again and talk about all the things that was distracting or that she somehow misconstrued; in some ways or some sort of fashion. She was without makeup, her hair done in a loose bun, her eyes the crystal blue, with her bangs a little messed up. She was wearing cargo pants.  And a silver shirt that said 'black panther ' with silver/black boots-knee high. And for all; she was still a gorgeous girl. If all went well, she would be the "it" girl, wearing a nice-sizeable ring on her index finger for the sign-up to be married to Mr. Suave. There was no higher status ; were simply put; just privaledged and born into it.  A nice get together of close family and friends would imply that she held a certain kind of status. She knew all the sayings and how it went, but she needed to know whether she had it making babies or her fat diamond check was going to the right place which was actually the wrong place.

Molly grew up spoiled but she was taught not to rob any mens heart or a womens own self- thought. But, something in her that was perfect and innate in her. In despair, he fell to her feet.  " I was wrong, I admit!" Thus, she had nothing to worry about. It was a marvelous notion about particularly nothing of thought. Anyhow, theres a catch but she saw it. Only, instantly she saw the connection or disconnection at this point. Dont tell him how I feel about you...he..warned himself. I said, huh? What are you talking about ? You think I'm some especially, sensitive girl who has no feeling or emotions or concerns. Really, have no time for this. Things that mattered to her and that she took to heart, was disconcerting to my inner wisdom to myself. So, I told you...she interrupted her thought with something special. So, i think i can do this too. Wait. Sequential events that preceded this was serious to the extent of, all things drastically changed in your terminology. I..Hahaha.  Yeah right! Yeah...right...? Nevermind. What has to be taken into account was quite remarkably unsatisfying and ungratifyingly..that I was not reassured that things would be damaging to his self-ego. Yes, something to that extent. It was a slow and constant struggle to perform well in all her daily functioning activities. To be the woman she was born to be, a mature, sensual woman. " I stand strong as an empowered woman who wants to get established, and lead a lavish lifestyle.  Unbeknownst to the world, not as of yet but a guarantee for true happiness in the near future". There was everyone vouching for her, but she had to stand tall and face it like a man. Lion strength to the championship of all honors. Fight like a man and be a man. That was the motto.

That was just a waste of time. So, she met him by the sherubs near the Willowbrook trees and pinecone tress making face to her second visitor. He said he wanted to ask her a couple of questions. She discarded the part where he asked her because it was not important. The scenery didnt seem real and neither did his phony outtake on things. She was wearing a slim, back-less silver dress with shimmers and golden stone pendants on both sides of her shoulder blades cutting a very slender but still promiscuous V-shaped in the beginning of her neck line. Also, carrying a birgin bag and dollie shoes with crystal gems going through her back, floral print pantyhose. Hair pushed back in a side/swept bun and silver hoop earrings hung by her nicely shaped ears. Also, some cherry-red lipstick, foundation and mascara in a delicate appliance of each for the fit, desired outcome. Blair Simone Molly Parton looked like straight out of a movie scene. She wasn't the kind of girl that kisses and tells. But, she had an awful feeling there would be no kissing here. She had to take into consideration the type of man she would be discussing matters with her. It was her ex-boyfriend. Infrequently he would lie to get her to come see her. Especially for tonight, she was not pleased at all to have come to this meeting at all. She had a feeling she would have to endure all the pain from his quick assertions about certain files of deducted claims that had nothing pertaining to her. She was just sitting on the bench there looking all spectacular and forbidden, when he decided to meet her at that precise moment. He greeted her with a nod but nothing more than that. The next half hour to hour was a complete bore. Discussing these sorts of ruthless antics were from her liking and as far as she knew way over her head. She didn't particularly like to partake in similar discussions either. And, his ruthlessness and crude nature didn't help matters none. It was plain to see. When she dumped him last fall, he threatened her with a lot of his own side step motions and accusations. She knew there was danger in his words, but at the same time couldn't go around them. When he got there, they barely talked for five minutes; exchanging intermissible glances. Then, the conversation suddenly began to take root. He asked "well, what happened that day?" Yes, this is how this particular man always starts his sentences, with side note interventions.  "well, what do you wanna know. I told you everything that there is to know." He was going to start arguing with her, when she blatantly interrupted him with a side hand gesture. "please spare me the load of croc from where do you find the situation getting better when you're only going to try to antagonise me again? And, I won't stand for it. You have no say in this particular juncture Mr.Delaqua. There is no preposition, just preposterous attempts at your part. So, as far as you and I are concerned we are not together, nor were we ever really together. And, since you never took the time to listen to anything that had to deal with my upbringing., I'm only going to say this one more time and let it play on it's own accord. We have not done business together as much as you might want to see it another day. There is no foundation and current misleading attempts to raise me into a state of utter humiliation will one day pin you to that framework that you will try to connive your way of in the court of upholding law. And, deeming it necessary, you will stay far away from me because if you dont ; there will be trouble- one of which you dont care for." She shrieked.  My godmother should be coming soon and i need to speak to her about some personal matters. So, if you'll excuse me monsieur. He stared at her distractingly,  and said with intensity "you will not get away with this" as he put his forearm on her right elbow. She took his arm in her hand and whisked it away. " Whatever you have to show me is worthless on my account". She said. And, with that she got up and started to walk away with a last cry from the inner depths of this mans soul. He said, you will not get away with this. As if she needed to constantly be reminded of what stood in her way between her and her true destiny. She disposed of his words, like broken, frail, thin wisps of paper. She'd rather think about something that was actually worth her time. As he could only sit there pondering in his over exuberant context of all his spite, vengeful, and erratic, unsupported  thoughts and contemplations; she was gone from his life forever. Though, he wasnt going to be relayed that piece of information till later.

Her Godmother Angela was the kindest, sweetest, most genteel woman there was. Maybe, that is the reason why Blair picked her as Godmother. She was waiting patiently in Mocha Cafe for their soon to be held meeting. In the duration between the time she left the horrible man to his own complicated emotions and contemplations; she went back to her house to make two phone calls. First, she called her Godmother to schedule and  ask where and when they were going to meet. The second phone call was only to her friend, the chaplain, Michael who she just needed a piece of advice from. Their conversation was quick and to the point though. In three rings, and when he picked up she uttered a small hello whereas he replied with the same gesture. After the small talk at how was yesterday, and all that she was quick to bring about her sense of urgency of what she should do about the implications; behind the reasoning of what was to come through her own actions asking him to answer in the most honest way. In his dutiful manner, he had only one thing to tell her; was simply to be careful. "Blair, i knew you for a while now. And, it seems to me that you just keep throwing your heart out with this piece of work; who showed no appreciation for you with his cowardice and insolent state. I clearly see that you dont waste any time, but where are all these mishandlings getting you? No where good is more like it." She kept going in a monotone state about the exact nature of her wrongs and she obliged to sence of truth that her friend was resonating within her; to take more incentive into an active and systematic approach of her ways. Thank you, Michael.

It was approaching that time to meet with her Godmother by the cafe near the pier. The weather was cold on the clear November day. She didnt forget to put her scarf, her nice black suade coat , pink hat and black satin gloves . As she walked through the nice, clear path- it stretched for miles. Along the way,she witnessed the beauty of nature and all it had to endure. The bountiness of green and live agriculture was upon her. The large, beautiful trees and all different sorts of flowers from Roses, to lillies, to tulips, to wildflowers, sun- flowers, blossoms, carnations, hydrangeas, and daffodilswere in range. You can see weeds in thy path with lots of clear observance to the limitless skies and clouds; making odd and misinfomed shapes. As she walks, wildlife was in range from robin birds, turtles,  squirrel's,  and even a lizard; a few rattlesnakes,  and one deer she saw in plain clear view. She marveled at the special scenerio she witnessed due to being slightly tired; whereas her eyes could adapt to the whole sight. When she finally reached her destination. As she was walking in stride., there was an entire group of people by the patio lounging already and talking amongst themselves. The waitor greeted her as she came in through the double doors and guided her to the table as she placed a menu in the womans hands with a pleasant and courteous smile. Her phone, as she began to dial the numbers, it began to ring on its own. "Well, hello Angela. Im here, just waiting on you now. At what time might you think you would be stopping by?" Angel sighed, and said "give me about 20 minutes."Blair replied, "oh good, because we have a lot to talk about things I'm already struggling with and I wanted to run it by you." "No problem dear," Angela replied. "I'll be there as soon as possible, just have to grab my coat and purse, and order a trasportation which will only take about 20-25 minutes tops; since I live not too far away from the side of the island you are at." "Great" Blair replied, as they hung up. She then thought and pondered about everything and in between. Indesicively what they were going to talk about; the probable cause of why certain things just happened primarily on her part than her much older counterpart. And appallingly, as she checked the time again, there was Angela - looking so prim and proper with her hair in an established perm, a large coat, and a beautiful beam of a smile that would fill the nation; and those sparkling eyes. We meet, and greet each other.  Blair kisses and hugs her and they laugh a little before sitting down. She was already sipping on a pinata colada before Angela orders a small espresso and a blueberry muffin. "My dear, I feel like I haven't seen you in ages. Where has the time gone again." I feel the same, Blai replied.  Anyway, she went on with an encouraging nod from Angela. Blair said,  "I was meaning to say what's on my mind. While I was waiting for you to show, I was thinking of all the things I could tell you about my slight disposition.  Blair, started to say, I'm not sure of how I feel , there were so many things that kept getting in my way. And, once I finally got there it was not worth my time. I just thought I would have wanted to be reassured..." Before, she could finish her train of thought, Angela stopped her and began to say, "Hold on, I may feel I have an idea of what you are trying to say. Now, how long have we known each other, for four five years now. You know you can always say what's in your heart when it comes to me. How many times have I always lectured you on this? You shine just as bright as a star. Always have perseverance,  have confidence, and patience. Good things will always come your way, if you believe they will., sunshine. And, the most important thing to have ofcourse is- Compassion. Blair interrupted. "Compassion, yes" Angela replied back. Compassion is definitely a very important virtue to uphold, but what I was leaning for was self-respect and morality, even though compassion is a big one and is not any less important than the other ones. It seems like you are absorbed in all your extra-curricular activities. What happened to all your friends? You are making a mistake and you didn't hear it from me...but if thats what it takes, then I should reiterate that I know you have all the courage in the world; but when it comes to your sense of self-reliance, you have to stay true to your heart." Blair considered this, and replied, "I understand Godmother. You were always there for me when I needed and confided in you. But, I didnt come so you can worry or take pity on me. I am a big girl now and what my parents always tried to reinforce from the start was how to be a better me; and be more aware of my current circumstances, also as well what held in stock for me in the future." Blair, stated. It was not just a pep talk. What these womans words suggested to her was in a most profound and gentle like manner. It bestowed a kind of trust in herself and those around her, that she wanted to pronounce it an infinite certainty that she was going to do it for herself. The other, older woman came there for just that purpose; to instill a certain type of purpose for her. Though we are living in a fundamental existence, there was still a sparkle in the young womans eyes implying that she had all good things going for her and to always persevere to the top. To never doubt herself and bring herself down. They chatted for another half hour about the importance of all these self-fulfilling prophecies, virtues,  and debilitating strategies for all these basic aspects. As well, as a couple of good jokes for the road ahead and all that humanity had come to offer them.- which was essentially nothing. Which was as Patricia Angela Rotunno put it; a hospitable place to stay and some bread on the table. Not to mention the thoughtful acts of doing menial labor for their other sexual companions, she claimed. That was essentially what she was trying to engrain in the girls head before she started to pry and ask any more questions. They bid each other farewell at the end of their meal and parted ways gracefully, and in style; so when they got up to leave all heads turned their way. Before she headed her way back to the condo, located in Eltingville, New York; Blair made a pitch stop to the liquor store to pick up a bottle of sparkling wine for the lather bubble bath she was going to permit to herself later. All the while, thinking and reminiscing on the conversation her and her Godmother had earlier. It was such a nice time sitting there besides eachother laughing whole-heartedly at the perplexing sitiation standing before them.; meanwhile taking everything into consideration. It was very sentimental and relaxing indeed,  as she dipped her whole body in the bath water for pure, sheer joy. She found every inch of her body begin to relax as her body absorbed the water with pure excitement. As she clicked on Enya, took a sip of the good wine, she instantly went into a meditative state of mind. Fresh, nice bubbles went floating everywhere that gushed her face and hands with soap. She had cool ideas as she saw all those floating bubbles. My step sister from planet weird. Elsewhere was a great book,  she thought. Look, if Mars Attacks wasnt real, we would all be devoid of human interaction. Um, she took a big sip of wine: my ultimate reality was seen as having an equatable number of successful misadventures. Which she didnt especially like. Which seemed unfair to her. So, her only logical conclusion would be: it was an inevitable statement to be all devoid of emotion since partaking in this corrupt society was too much for her taking. Bored. She made swirls with her palms. So, the most radical explanation then would be such, as that I stay here while they go on to defeat them theirselves. I wasnt included in that particular jester. Lady of Snakes, or Lilith, or even Aphrodite knew nothing of my own heroic disclosures to my entertwined. Im getting too ahead of myself. And, she held back knowing that when she mentioned that she know's it will her and just herself that will be reading this in tribute; in spite of all the backlashing. Then, a flicker on one side of the wall, she could see through her vision; but it was just her right toe. It wasnt amusing.  I was becoming delirious. I decided to put all the rest of my 'logical' thoughts into place. I feel that the only other group that was similar to mine own interests only was another part of me. One of which I  will never understand.

Chapter 2: The inquisition

This is only a short chapter. The simple reason, being that was no, henceforth, inquisition of any kind needed to be made. The only questions that were asked were of nobodys to that level. Lets start from the beginning.  All dyslexic shapes was what I was good at deciphering. But, there was a man and woman of the nile. she transcended into the farthest mountains of the Evergreens in present day- Minneapolis. Hey, I think I know more than the man. In other contest, the jets scored today in this 2nd season. That was the inquisition.  Perusing her main point in focus, it was very insightful. Yet, it didnt make any sense. She stuttered, mumbling filthy incantations behind her snare, the thought was illogical and reversed it back to Normal mode. We all know the part that comes next after his valuable doctrine to her. She had to memorize it word for word. Lest, it be known that the doctrine was strictly as followed to remain constant every way. It was evidently pass that time where we can make any dramatic entrance. Apparantly,  he felt adamant about that part. All those factors didnt make any sense to her, nor in that concept. Those particular disclosures were fragments of a whole, not unlike to his teachings. Colors by Halsey was a favourite song of mine in that moment and  admiration for Gods sustainable life source and forces of Nature all as one, dually noted. The testimonial was to abide by Holy Spirit, father, and other father. So, she stuttered.,mumbled something incoherent under her breath and stepped lazily out of the bathtub.  She left the bathroom,  just thinking somehow, pathologically to herself: did the holy spirit just rape my entire being?

"I was granted access to urm, the missionary international station of Mars. I had the i.d" , (Alita, the battle angel) i would never lie to the same girl that I was a long time ago. No, I'm totally kidding. I have no redemption, coming my way which is why the inquisition probably lasted so short in time! I was told my higher preachings come from God, so I must stay focused to what I believe in. The power of my i.d on urm, would be so much more powerful than the prospect of being unhappy. The next chapter will be a doozy. =)

But first, the reason why the inquisition lasted a short time- how you would really like to know? Because, there was a girl that put the cards on the table and incriminated herself to make the process of a simple inquisition take so short of time. Hey, it was the best thing she got.

Somehow I tried to incorporate the colder than ice lyrics to frame Molly's perspective on things. How can they be so stubborn? So unforgiving of my timid and frantic outcome on things. I will read you the colder than ice lyrics in two seconds! Ok..here goes:

Colder Than Ice Lyrics There she stands on the floor colder than ice, vision fixed on the door colder than ice now she knows that she's nice golden hair and deep blue eyes noone dances her twice nothing happen so far 'cause who wants to get burned by the ice No one reach her tonight before she takes flight She's colder than ice How can I get in first hurt to intice

CHORUS She's colder than ice Colder than ice COLDER THAN ICE

Suddenly I was there and she's is in his arms all too close to him and she feels his charms couldn't see it no more could it be I'm loosing for sure Oh it's breaking me up 'cause I'm the only one who dares to walk on the ice No one reach her tonight before she takes flight She's colder than ice How can I get in first hurt to intice She's colder than ice colder than ice COLDER THAN ICE (x2)

No one reach her tonight before she takes flight She's colder than ice How can I get in first hurt to intice She's colder than ice colder than ice COLDER THAN ICE -

By Grant Miller

Chapter 3: An "any other place" situation.

"You have bad breath" She mumbled underneath her breath in his direction. He looked at her from the side, and said "what"? Why would you prolong something when he already instigated it back to her? She could never explain that which made her believe she wasnt in hades, and so she was his and his  alone in the circle of hell. He kept on going with the insults.., such as you are an evil, I should have listen to what everyone was telling me about you (My mom, my sister, Susan). She could feel heat waves fuming out of her, as he had some nerve after he insulted her to the core. What an evil bitch, she thought. The justification of these morals were as such:she didnt know. ELSEWHERE IS A FUN BOOK. Ok, so im not that special, she admitted wholeheartedly. And I wish Terminators were real. I like how they predicted my future. I could write a book about this, but I wont., its too tough to explain. Sorry,  some people cant read. Heh, that was actually funny to her. Now, the difference between men and woman is that there is only one woman for every man but the ratio for a love match is simple.. do his laundry=great sex. Understand my philosophy, or these pages will keep repeating its framework. So, in the dungeon now with no words to say except that it was cool. There is no point to this chapter either except now you know I was funny that way. So, lets start from the beginning. In my teens, I started to have premonitions. As I was making my way into my late teens, I started to have hallucinations., some which were downright scary. I was labeled as a schizophrenic for a while. Then the doctors agreed it was no big deal, although all the seminars they held for me in those institutions had me labeled as 'girl interrupted' for a while. After making an escape attempt, I was incriminated and sent to an institution for two and a half years. Now that I see that there is no greener grass on the other side through my fragmented ability to have clarity I started seeking other options through my logical pathways for a true escape out of all four corners in my mind. I started thinking like a linguist, a scholar, that girl, how all the girls would think and its entirety lay in the hands of the depths of a mans soul. He deliberately put me into a state of trance so I would see colors and only colors. I was that girl who didnt see the ending of this complexity. Paper after paper going down the drain till I get the essence of why we must not speak about these things. The reasoning behind these implications was that the whole spectral of her mindset was blasphemous, unholy and should be condemned. Who brought on these surge of emotions. That means inputting, decoding, and encoding an entire word is simple enough-  Let me know how that goes. Some girls would mock her. Blair didnt take pity on those fools. She was smart like that. It wasnt rocket science. More like boring Chemistry.  I didnt pass Chemistry, I didnt even take Chemistry, but it also had some meaning behind its implications. Oh man, she sat there thinking. I wish I could feel how I feel when I just felt that. Meditation, meditation, sleep, and Contemplation. Nothing will ever ruse my state of deep transcendental awareness at this time.CHORUS.  And then it stops. And starts again. It will never stop apparantly. 

Powered by Journey Diary.

Wonder Woman: The Movie

Rebirth has brought the Amazing Amazon back to her roots, but this would only be a partial victory had the Wonder Woman movie been a failure along the lines of Dawn of Justice.

The Movie

We had nothing to fear. Not only was Patty Jenkins’ vision perfectly true to Diana, but Gal Gadot surprised everybody by being the perfect casting for Wonder Woman. At its current standing, the movie is the leggiest superhero movie, holding up better than other superhero movies in the past fifteen years.

Wonder Woman is a tremendous success, easily Warner Brother’s third-highest earning superhero movie. We all remember, several years ago, how Diane Nelson told us over and over again that the public would find Diana difficult to understand, that the movie with all of her mythical elements would be problematic.

People love Wonder Woman all over again, and they love her movie. A lot.

I said I would write a review of the movie, but I don’t want to do a play by play. Rather, I think that a full review would go over territory that has been already tread by many, and it would be pointless. What I think is important is to pause and reflect on the reasons why Wonder Woman has inspired viewers, why it has made them cry at moments like the No Man’s Land (guilty as charged), and why they keep coming back for more.

Of course, the themes of empowerment and sisterhood, and the total lack of sexualization of the female hero in a mainstream Hollywood blockbuster movie are two huge points in the movie’s favor. While we have seen some tremendously heroic women in the realm of Science Fiction (Ellen Ripley, we love you), the genre of superhero movies is a whole different thing: it is pure, idealized heroic fantasy comparable to the sagas that Wagner drew upon (minus, you know, the incest and other things.) 

In this genre it is customary to see the powerful bodies of male superheroes highlighted dramatically as a source of inspiration and empowerment, whereas the female heroes who fight alongside them have their bodies leered at by the camera, with a special fixation on their backsides and cleavage. Whether it is Elektra walking away from the camera that is perfectly poised to catch her derriere and hips swaying, to Harley Quinn’s daisy dukes being almost pornographically ogled by the camera, to Black Widow being the only Avenger to have a movie poster designed to show off those assets, the female superhero body seems to exist purely to be sexy, not powerful or inspiring. 

And then came Wonder Woman- the first female protagonist in the superhero live-action movie genre to shatter this trope. There are plenty of examples throughout the movie, but I will stick with one of the prominent ones seen in the trailer. Diana shatters an enemy rifle using nothing but her biceps and her back. It is a moment of sheer, inspirational power that highlights the Amazon’s physique, but it isn’t done as an excuse to sexualize her- this moment (among many in the movie) sees her treated exactly as a male superhero would be treated.  It isn’t material for titillation, it’s as awe-inspiring as is the crossing of the No Man’s Land and all of Diana’s feats. 

But the glory isn’t solely showered on one Amazon, but all of them: the Amazons are treated with the same reverence, and seeing Hippolyta jumping into battle with her army is a joy.

However, feats of strength and martial prowess only go so far. Without the right heart, it all becomes so much empty bombast. What is special about Wonder Woman is the very same thing that made her special when she first touched down on the shores of Man’s World 75 years ago, guided by the typewriter of the brilliant and eccentric William Moulton Marston. 

[SPOILER WARNING: IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN THE MOVIE, THIS IS THE PLACE WHERE YOU SHOULD STOP READING AND COME BACK AFTER YOU HAVE SEEN IT... REALLY, WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? THIS MOVIE IS AMAZING, GO. NOW.]

Diana of Themyscira is an excellent example of the principle of ἀρετή (Arete, pronounced /a.re.tɛ̌ː/), a Greek term that Aristotle (among others) identified with  moral virtue:

"Virtue (arete) then is a settled disposition of the mind determining the choice of actions and emotions, consisting essentially in the observance of the mean relative to us, this being determined by principle, that is, as the prudent man would determine it." Aristotle,  Nicomachean Ethics, II vi 15

In Aristotle’s conception of virtue, the virtuous action is always found in the intermediate state between deficiency and excess: too much and too little are always wrong, with  the right kind of action in the right kind of measure being defined as the golden mean, contextually appropriate to both the situation and the individual in question.

So, what does this mean for Diana? When Diana learns of the terrible things that are happening on Man’s World, she feels incapable of obeying her mother’s orders to do nothing while innocents die. Her compassion is fueled by her sense of justice- can she truly stay behind in her idyllic world while innocents are slaughtered, when she knows she is an Amazon and, according to legend, especially trained for such an occasion along with the rest of her sisters? 

Diana comes to the world, even if it means turning her back on her mother. She could have sent Steve back by himself, but that would have been too little, and convincing the entire Amazon army to leave Themyscira and thus leave it undefended would have been too much. One single, albeit extraordinary, Amazon coming to Man’s World to fight Ares was clearly the right choice.

Throughout Diana’s journey, she finds herself faced with the quest for the right action- she cannot abide the paralysis in the trenches and thus crosses No Man’s Land, everywhere she goes she seeks to enact the right action because she ultimately loves humanity and wants to help. Unlike the cinematic incarnations of her fellow Trinity members, she does not agonize about whether she has the right to take action or whether she is capable of knowing what is the right course to take. Diana embarks on her quest with the certitude that she will find the right actions, even if she has to correct her course to account for new knowledge. Her sense of justice will simply not allow her to consider inaction.

It is rather fitting, then, that Arete was occasionally personified as a deity in Ancient Greece and portrayed as the daughter of Justice herself: Praxidike, whose other daughter and Arete's sister was the goddess Homonoia, the goddess of concord.

At the end of her journey, Diana is faced with the knowledge that man’s nature was not entirely what she thought it was, that man was not wholly good... that is, that humanity is not exactly the pure race that the myths painted, incapable of  atrocities unless influenced by outside forces. She has grown up believing in the sole goodness of humanity, and Ares then tries to expose her to his cynical view of humanity, which is that of utterly corrupt and irredeemable creatures. And for a moment, it almost seems possible that she will embrace this belief.

But, just as before, when caught in the pull between two extremes, Diana always returns to her center. With her new realization of humanity’s nature, she says to the sneering Ares:

“They are everything you say. But so much more.” 

Diana’s knowledge has expanded. Humanity is neither a demon awash in corruption nor a perfect being incapable of evil, but a people perpetually poised on the edge of possibility armed with nothing but choice. Each individual holds different measures of Elysium or Tartarus within them, unleashed by the choices they make- with those falling outside of the range of the golden mean bringing about terrible consequences. The golden mean-which might as well have as a physical representation Wonder Woman’s lasso of Hestia, which seeks to remove falsehood in the quest for the truth-  and  it is knowledge of true things that informs the correct action.

“It’s about what you believe. And I believe in love.”

Diana’s next line may puzzle some, and some have dismissed it as a platitude or a cliché, but this is one of the truest statements about the character of Wonder Woman, and she means it in a different way than the lazy interpretation some might ascribe to it.

From a philosophical point of view, especially from an Aristotelian perspective, the idea of ‘love’ is tied to virtue and the notion of ‘the good’. Virtue does not, as some would have you believe, exist for its own sake, but rather it is the right action aimed at attaining that which is valued and loved.  It is impossible to enact virtue without being capable of loving. Diana loves Truth and therefore seeks to act honestly in order to uncover it, she cannot abide tyranny and therefore seek to enact Justice to bring freedom. She loves humanity as a whole and wishes to see it prosper, and thus seeks to uphold Peace- even if she must fight to achieve it. 

(Aside: That last example is not a contradiction in her standards, because one must never allow one’s virtues to be turned towards one’s own destruction. If Diana embraced complete pacifism, then those who initiate violence against the innocent would easily be able to exterminate those who are not violent, if no-one were to defend themselves.) 

Therefore, everything that Diana does, and the force that carries her truly through the end of her journey is her intense ability to value and to love, intensely. 

Her final realization in the movie is also one that many superheroes do not seem to achieve- Diana is very aware that only humanity- individuals themselves- can truly make a better world for themselves through the choices that they make. She is also aware that, as long as there is such a thing as freedom of will the struggle between good and evil choices will go on. She now knows that her mission in Man’s World is to protect ( others against violence) and to teach (her values), but she is not here to ‘fix the world’ in the way that some authoritarian dictator might, by imposing a conduct through force. She lets the world make its own choices, and is the advocate of everything mankind can be- and which some individuals achieve in varying measures. 

 Even though she is a ‘child of fate’, she is completely unaware of it and chooses the path for herself long before knowing she was born as the only being capable of destroying Ares. She takes the trope of the ‘chosen one’ and turns it upside down. Wonder Woman, essentially, disregards deontological ethics and places virtue ethics at the fore.  And this is what makes Wonder Woman as a movie, and a character, stand apart from her male colleagues in the Trinity. Whereas Batman’s tragic orphan-hood shaped his thirst for justice and Superman is marked by the loss of a world and people he never knew, Wonder Woman’s origin story is unmarked by tragedy: she was born from a mother’s love, and she is moved by a love of people and of the world. 

And this, even if it is only dimly perceived as a vague undercurrent by some, is the core reason for why Wonder Woman has been such a smashing success. The Amazon’s incredible fortune is reminiscent of the impact she had when she first made her debut in All-Star Comics #8 in 1941. Back then, the world embraced the champion of Themyscira as a unique hero with a unique message. 

It has been a long time coming, but she has finally come home again, and many are embracing her as others did, way back when.

Here’s to  Warner Brothers for finally giving us what we’ve been asking for all these decades. And here’s to Wonder Woman 2.

The Vampire's Realm

RATED: Explicit

Chapter 1: Ancient History

***

There was a time, thousands of years in the past, when the Earth orbited the Moon. The hours of darkness predominated the timeframe that we call night and day. With the climate and temperatures being several degrees cooler than they are now, it was no surprise that the race known as Vampires rose to become the dominant species on the planet.

There were two primary casts of Vampire; The Alphas and The Betas.

Alphas were high-ranking individuals who achieved their status through aggressive determination, physical strength and the building of alliances within their own Clan and when the need arose (political or otherwise) other Clans. Only Alphas were accorded the right to reproduce.

Betas served as administrators, dealing with the day-to-day matters. If they proved their loyalty, they could, on occasion, act as second-in-command to the reigning alpha.

At the time the Vampires regarded the race known as Homo sapiens as merely a ready food source. But as this lesser race gradually developed, they saw a potential new use for them, as slaves. The males they used to perform the menial, difficult and dangerous jobs. The females were ideal as concubines, as female Vampires only became fertile, and therefore sexually active twice a year, Vampire Alphas now had the perfect solution for their sexual frustrations.

But nothing ever stays the same.

Change was inevitable.

Over time gravitational shifts pushed the planet into its current orbit. With the Earth now orbiting the Sun, daylight predominated with temperatures increasing, Vampires were forced to find refuge out of its fiery glare.

By contrast the Human population greeted the environmental changes with enthusiasm, greedily relishing the Sun’s warming rays.

Not to be outdone, evolution ensured several dramatic changes of its own that saw the once lowly Homo sapiens grow and evolve. With enhanced intellect they established their own cast system and refused to be viewed as lesser beings.

Evolution inflicted a terrible blow to the Vampire population. Birth rates dropped dramatically, ensuring that they could only produce offspring every ten years, then every twenty-five, and finally every one hundred years.

In less than millennia, Humans outnumbered Vampires one hundred to one, with the trend continuing into the foreseeable future.

The Humans saw their opportunity to become the dominant species on the planet.

The Vampire’s were outnumbered and overwhelmed. Eventually banished permanently underground, never to be seen again. With all records of their existence destroyed, they became nothing more than folklore and fairytale.

***

Chapter 2: Into Darkness

***

LONDON – OLD HALLOWS EVE

A solitary figure made its way through the darkened graveyard. Ignoring the warnings surrounding Old Hallows Eve, Molly Hooper walked over to the headstone that bore the names of her parents. She crouched down and immediately set to work removing the dead flowers and replacing them with fresh ones.

Since their premature deaths, the result of a terrible car crash six months earlier, Molly had faithfully visited their grave once every week. The only difference about this week’s visit was the time she had purposefully chosen.

Her decision to visit their grave at this hour on this particular night would be regarded by many as pure folly…

**

The Festival of Samhain, or Old Hallows Eve

For it is said that on this one night, the impenetrable mists that separated the dead from the living diminished.

And thus allowed the dead to cross over to the land of the living, so as to visit their loved ones.

Only pray that these spirits wish you goodwill, for be they of a vengeful disposition, then hellfire is sure to follow.

**

When the church bell struck midnight, the witching hour, Molly eagerly looked around her, but saw nothing. But still she waited patiently.

By the time the half hour rang out however, Molly’s shoulders slumped and with a disappointed sigh she began gathering up the dead flowers and got to her feet. Looking down at the gravestone she pressed her fingers to her lips, before pressing her fingers to the headstone.

“Oh well,” she murmured as she prepared to leave. “It was worth a try.”

Turning she was surprised to discover that a dense mist had descended over the graveyard. Even more alarming, as she attempted to make her way to the gate, the mist quickly turned to a thick fog that made it impossible to see anything in any direction.

Pausing, she waited, hoping that the fog would lift, even if only for her to work out where she was.

But it didn’t.

Instead Molly felt an irresistible urge to go in a particular direction. She had only taken half a dozen steps when the ground beneath her feet disappeared…

***

THE HOLMES-SINGH CLAN TERRITORY

Molly landed with a thud.

Cautiously she got to her feet, and began to look around her. But it was so dark she felt like she was enveloped in another impenetrable fog.

Taking a step forward Molly felt the hairs on the back of her arms stand on end. She was not alone. Taking a deep breath, she detected the irresistible and tantalising scent of not one, but two alpha males

However she refused to be cowered, and bravely demanded. “Show yourselves. I know you’re there.”

“Indeed,” a rich baritone voice all but purred sardonically from just ahead of her.

While another, deeper and grittier in tone, growled in amusement directly behind her. “Such a feisty little omega, isn’t she?”

Molly spun around, but frustratingly was still unable to see anything around her.

Then, as if by magic half a dozen concealed oil lamps sprang to life, casting a warm glow. And as her eyes became accustomed to the dim light, she saw them.

***

Chapter 3: An Unexpected Find

***

THE HOLMES-SINGH CLAN TERRITORY

Sherlock Holmes and Khan Noonien Singh were brothers, bonded by blood, resulting from an alliance forged between their two clans hundreds of years before. It was an alliance that remained strong, steadfast and true.

As co-leaders of their clan it was incumbent of them both to procure a suitable mate. Potential candidates had been selected from a number of other clans throughout the realm.

Bonding with any of the females would guarantee not only the strengthening of their own clan, but would ensure further political stability throughout the realm.

The only problem, none of the renowned beauties sparked interest in either leader.

It wasn’t that those who’d been chosen weren’t beautiful. They were stunning, and incredibly eager to please, maybe too eager.

Sherlock and Khan’s conquests so far had left them both… unsatisfied. The sex, though spectacular, often felt manufactured, like their potential life-mates were simply going through the motions, doing only what was necessary to gain favour.

Not surprising when the sole purpose driving the consorts willingness to share their beds was the political advantage, over the instinctive emotional need to bond.

Time was running out. They had to make their decision soon.

To refuse to take a mate was unthinkable. The very honour of their clan was at stake. And yet…

*

In their private quarters, away from prying eyes, the two leaders discussed their options. But as hours became days, their frustration levels increased, causing the discussions to become more and more heated

“You’re not serious!” Khan exclaimed angrily, scowling at his blood brother with barely restrained disbelief.

“I don’t see that we have any other choice…” Sherlock began, before being rudely interrupted.

“Of course we have a choice!” Khan snarled, rounding on Sherlock. “What you’re suggesting is we take a mate purely to satisfy others political ambitions… When what we should be concerned about is our own need…”

Sherlock took a fortifying breath. “Obviously that is the preferred option. Unfortunately there is far more at stake, and we cannot allow our personal desires to interfere with…”

All argument came to an abrupt end when the most mouth-watering scent reached out to both alphas.

It was like nothing they had ever come across before. Female alpha vampires gave off a unique scent, but it paled in comparison to the perfume the wafted in the air, surrounding the two brothers is a rich mist of aromatic delight.

They eagerly breathed in a lungful of the tantalising combination of cinnamon and honey, with a dash of lemon. It caused an instantaneous reaction as their retracted fangs slipped partially free, their arousal spiked to levels they had until now never experienced.

Fuelled by an all-consuming need to find the source of the fragrance, they left their chambers, and set off in search of it.

Honour, politics and deadlines were all forgotten.

***

THE HOLMES-SINGH CLAN TERRITORY TUNNELS

As Sherlock and Khan moved through the labyrinth of tunnels, their keen senses alerted them to something remarkable. Female vampires, like their male counterparts came in two casts, alpha and beta. But what they were detecting was the unmistakeable aroma of a ripe omega on the cusp of her first heat, which meant only one thing.

This stunning discovery was confirmed once they finally laid eyes on her, and they understood now why her scent was so intoxicatingly potent.

She was human.

*

Neither had experience of humans, other than the accounts of others, older and wiser, whose assessment of them firmly stated that they were a weak, pathetic race, which had only risen to power due to forces beyond their control.

If the exquisite, delicately formed female before them was anything to go by, then it was painfully clear that their elders were idiots.

This assessment was further enhanced by the brave determination displayed by the young woman before them, as she demanded. “Show yourselves. I know you’re there.”

“Indeed,” Sherlock noted quizzically, immediately charmed.

While Khan having moved to stand directly behind her, humorously acknowledged the obvious. “Such a feisty little omega, isn’t she?”

Curious as to how she would react once she saw them in the flesh, the vampires telepathically commanded the torches to lite up, casting a warm glow.

The three now appraised each other in silence.

Instinctively Molly knew what they were, though she had to admit that nothing in Earth’s folklore stories ever mentioned how gorgeously good looking vampires were.

Or maybe that description only applied to these two.

The vampire ahead of her appeared Byronesque; slim, cool, and restrained. His steady gaze appeared glacial, except for the latent heat emanating from within. They spoke of one who was extremely reserved, highly intelligent, but one capable of great passion. He looked as though he’d just come back from an evening out on the town, dressed as he was in tailored trousers, but no jacket. The bow tie around his neck was undone, as were the first two buttons of his shirt, and at the cuffs. The only thing about him not easily controlled was his head of delightfully wild curls.

Slim and wiry though he appeared, the remaining buttons on his shirt strained in a valiant attempt to maintain their hold over the clearly broad chest and shoulders, spoke of an innate strength equal in power to that exhibited by the other.

Molly’s gaze now turned to the other behind her. He stood back so she could observe him. It was immediately clear that this vampire was more savage and predatory than the other. A warrior, rough and ready, for anything.

This was reflected in his own distinct style of dress, preferring a black, sleeveless fishnet shirt that left little to the imagination, the play of his muscles visible through the mesh material. It was the same for his skin-tight denim jeans, slung low over his hips to reveal a wispy, black fishnet g-string.

His dark hair was straight, with a long fringe that fell endearingly into his eyes. His chin and upper lip darkened by a three-day growth, making him appear piratical.

Both however possessed full, lusciously sensual, kissable lips and appeared to prefer going around bare foot.

The only feature she couldn’t see clearly was their eye colour…

Molly gasped when one moment they were at a distance from her, and the next their bodies were pressed intimately against her, front and back.

“Better?” they queried, with the rise of elegant eyebrows.

Molly felt the hot rush of embarrassment redden her cheeks. They had read her wayward thoughts.

But now that they were so close, she could see that their eyes were aqua coloured. Suddenly their irises were rimmed with a fiery red as their fangs now descended fully.

Yet Molly didn’t feel fearful, instead she felt strangely reassured, wanted.

The two vampires circled her at a slow, leisurely pace. Molly’s breathing became increasingly erratic. The staccato beat of her heart, coupled with the thrum of the blood rushing through her veins only added to Sherlock and Khan’s sexual arousal.

They continued prowling around her, the air thick with anticipation and unspoken possibilities.

To her own people, with her small stature and her big brown eyes and long chestnut coloured hair Molly was often labelled mousy and plain. To the two vampires however, the petite woman before them was nothing short of exquisite.

As they continued to circle her, the brother’s eyes met over the top of the women’s head. Both burned with the same question. ‘Had they finally found ‘the one’?’

There was only one way to find out for certain.

With no warning they abruptly turned and without even a backward glance they casually walked away from her. Then the lamps flickered out, leaving the tunnels once again in complete darkness.

Instantly Molly was left feeling unwanted, abandoned and bereft.

Until…

“Come,” drifted back down the tunnel to where the little omega stood. The promise offered in the softly spoken command was enough to reassure Molly, and without a moments hesitation she eagerly followed.

***

Chapter 4: The Vampire's Lair

Chapter Text

***

PRIVATE QUARTERS

The room was filled with Molly’s ecstatic cries of delight, mingled with Sherlock and Khan’s guttural groans of acute and all consuming pleasure

On a plush high-backed chair Molly sat upon Khan’s lap, her back plastered against his chest, her legs spread wide and elevated, resting over the cool iron armrests, Khan’s cock buried deep within her welcoming cunt. His powerful body surged up, his hips pumping wildly as he thrust his cock deeper and deeper to penetrate the most intimate heart of her. In return Molly arched her back, which pushed her more fully down on his erect member, causing them both to moan aloud in ecstasy.

With one hand gripping her hip with bruising force, Khan wrapped the fingers of his other hand through her long hair to hold her in place before burying his face in her neck, his mouth sliding down to follow the line of her collarbone to the soft hollow at the base of her throat. His tongue touched the wildly beating pulse, searing her like a brand.

Sherlock knelt on a soft sheepskin rug, his face buried between Molly’s legs, probing her clit aggressively with his tongue, before plunging first one long elegant finger, then a second inside her, his fingers imitating Khan’s movements, leaving her almost incoherent with need.

Molly moved instinctively with them, her body becoming more and more sensitive as it convulsed with each deepening plunge.

The feel of Khan and Sherlock’s fangs gliding over her throat and her clit had Molly throwing her head back and screaming a keening cry, as one of her hands snaked up to take hold of the back of Khan’s head while the other took a firm hold of Sherlock’s curls as her body surged up forcibly, shoving her cunt more fully into his mouth.

Sherlock and Khan acted immediately.

Sherlock brought her to quaking release with quick, rough thrusts of his tongue, eagerly lapping up her exotically flavoured juices as they washed through her, while Khan increased his relentless pace, moving forward then back, in and out, shoving deep until his penis was fully encased within her womb. Breathing hard, his breath coming in short, rapid pants as he finally reached his own release, spilling his seed with a triumphant shout.

*

Now lying between the two vampires in an enormous canopy bed Molly had never felt so at peace. Being in their embrace was as natural as breathing.

And yet, something still bothered her.

“Why didn’t you feed from me, turn me?’ she quietly asked.

The hurt she felt all too clear.

Wrapping their arms more securely around her, Sherlock and Khan hastened to reassure her.

“We both want you, more than you can know,” Sherlock assured her.

“If we turn you, you’ll be bound to us for eternity,” Khan explained. “Once you agree there’s no going back. Are you certain, absolutely certain that this is what you want?”

Their concern for her only made Molly love them more.

“I want you to turn me,” Molly said in a strong, confident voice. “I can’t wait to begin our life together. In fact I want to start it this very minute.”

“Oh God, yes,” Khan and Sherlock eagerly agreed.

***

THE HOLY GOSPEL OF JESUS CHRIST, -THE ACTS OF THE APOSTLES, FROM THE LATIN VULGATE BIBLE

Chapter 1

PREFACE.

St. Luke, who had published his gospel, wrote also a second volume, which, from the first ages, hath been called the Acts of the Apostles. Not that we can look upon this work, as a history of what was done by all the apostles, who were dispersed in different nations; but we have here a short view of the first establishment of the Christian Church, a small part of St. Peter's preaching and actions, set down in the first twelve chapters, and a more particular account of St. Paul's apostolical labours, in the following chapters, for about thirty years, till the year 63, and the 4th year of Nero, where these acts end.

Chapter 1

The ascension of Christ. Matthias is chosen in place of Judas.

1 The former treatise I made, O Theophilus, of all things, which Jesus began to do and to teach,

Notes & Commentary:

Ver. 1. St. Luke, who was the author of this history, alludes, in this verse, to his gospel, which he calls his first discourse. In that he informs us, not only of the actions, but also the doctrines of our Saviour. These words, to do and to teach, are the abridgment of the whole gospel: here he gives us the Acts of the Apostles, that is, an history of their travels and preaching. In the beginning of this work he speaks of all the apostles, and what they did before their dispersion. As soon as he comes to the mention of St. Paul, he takes notice of no one else, but is entirely taken up with the narrative of his actions. He addresses his book to Theophilus, which signifies a friend of God, or one who loves God, as if he intended to dedicate it to all the faithful, who believed in, and loved God. But it is more probable that this was some distinct person, well known to St. Luke, and illustrious for his birth, because he gave him the title of kratiste, most excellent. [Luke i. 3.] (Calmet)

2 Until the day on which, giving commandments by the Holy Ghost to the apostles whom he had chosen, he was taken up:

Ver. 2. Until the day on which, giving commandments by the Holy Ghost to the apostles whom he had chosen, he was taken up. As the Scripture was written without distinction of verses, and without any stops, or commas, which were added afterwards) the construction, and joining of the words in this verse, is ambiguous. The question is, with what part of the verse these words, by the Holy Ghost, are to be joined. The sense might be, 1. that he was taken up by the Holy Ghost: but this is generally rejected. 2. That he gave his commandments by the Holy Ghost to his apostles; that is, says St. Chrysostom, that he gave them spiritual commands, that came from the Holy Ghost, or from his holy Spirit. 3. The most probable exposition seems to be, that he gave his special commandments to his apostles, or to those whom he chose to be his apostles, by the Holy Ghost, or by his holy and divine spirit. (Witham) --- The power to preach, to baptize, to remit sins, and generally the whole commission and charge of the government of his Church after him in his name, and with his authority; which government was given them, together with the Holy Ghost, to assist them therein for ever. (Bristow)

3 To whom also he shewed himself alive after his passion, by many proofs, for forty days appearing to them, and speaking of the kingdom of God.

Ver. 3. Appearing, &c. Why did he not appear to all, but only to his disciples? Because to many of them, who did not know the mystery, he would have seemed a phantom. For if the disciples themselves were diffident, and terrified, and required to touch him with their hands, how would others have been affected? But we know from their miracles, the truth of the resurrection, which is made evident to all succeeding generations. Perhaps the apostles did not perform miracles. How then was the world converted? This is a fact which cannot be denied, and that it should have been brought about by twelve poor illiterate fishermen, without miracles, would be the greatest of all miracles, far beyond the reach of all human means. (St. Chrysostom, hom. i. chap. 1. on Acts.) --- "And speaking of things pertaining to the kingdom of God," as we read in the Greek, and in the Protestant version, that is, pertaining to the Church, which is the kingdom of God, ta peri tes basileias tou theou, which plainly makes for unwritten tradition. (Estius)

4 And eating with them, he commanded them, that they should not depart from Jerusalem, but should wait for the promise of the Father, which you have heard (saith he) by my mouth.

Ver. 4. And eating with them. This is a literal translation from the vulgar Latin. But the Protestant translation from some Greek copies, would have it, And being assembled together, he commanded them, &c. Mr. Bois defends the Latin Vulgate and even by the authority of St. Chrysostom who doubtless understood the Greek text, as well as any one, and who takes the Greek word here to signify eating: for he observes that the apostles elsewhere prove Christ's resurrection by his eating and drinking with them. (Acts x. 4.[41.?]) St. Jerome also says, the derivation of the Greek word, is from eating salt together. (Witham)

Note:

Ver. 4. sunalizomenos, A salis & mensæ communione. Some copies sunaulizomenos.

5 For John indeed baptized with water, but you shall be baptized with the Holy Ghost not many days hence.

Ver. 5. Baptized with the Holy Ghost, that is, cleansed, and sanctified by the plentiful graces he shall pour upon you. (Witham)

6 They, therefore, who were come together, asked him, saying; Lord, wilt thou at this time restore again the kingdom to Israel:

7 But he said to them; It is not for you to know the times or moments, which the Father hath put in his own power:

Ver. 6-7. Wilt thou at this time restore again the kingdom of Israel? Some of them, as St. Chrysostom observes, had still their thoughts upon a temporal kingdom of the Messias. Christ, to divert them from such imaginations, tells them, their business is to be witnesses of his doctrine and miracles, particularly of his resurrection, even unto the utmost bounds of the earth, to all the nations of the world. (Witham)

8 But you shall receive the power of the Holy Ghost coming upon you, and you shall be witnesses unto me in Jerusalem, and in all Judea, and Samaria, and even to the uttermost part of the earth.

Ver. 8. No explanation given.

9 And when he had said these things, while they looked on, he was raised up: and a cloud received him out of their sight.

Ver. 9. He was raised up. Raised himself up, and ascended, &c. (Witham)

10 And whilst they were beholding him going up to heaven, behold two men stood by them in white garments;

Ver. 10. Behold two men, that is, two angels, stood by them in white apparel. (Witham)

11 Who also said; Ye men of Galilee, why stand you looking up to heaven? This Jesus, who is taken up from you into heaven, so shall he come as you have seen him going into heaven.

Ver. 11. So shall he come, as you have seen him going. This word going, says St. Chrysostom, sufficiently intimates, that he ascended by his own power: for so will he come by his own power to judge the world. (Witham) --- Jesus Christ shall come on the last day, in the same body, in the same majesty, to judge the living and the dead. This he had likewise promised, in more than one place of the gospel, speaking of the vengeance, which he will exercise on the city of Jerusalem. St. Jerome, St. Hilary, and many other ancients, have believed that the Son of God will appear again on Mount Olivet, and that all people shall be assembled to judgment. (St. Jerome, super Joel iii. 2.; St. Hilary, super Matthew xxiv. 32.) --- And that same body, which thus ascended to heaven, and which will thus descend, is given us in the blessed Sacrament. "O miracle! exclaims St. Chrysostom, He that sitteth with his Father above, is at the same time handled by men below. Jesus Christ ascending to heaven, both hath his flesh with him above, and hath left it with us below. Elias being taken up, left his disciple, Eliseus, his mantle and double spirit, but the Son of Man ascending, left his own flesh for us." (Lib. iii. de Sacerd. hom. 2. ad pop. Ant. hom. de divit. et paup.) --- Sulpicius Severus, and St. Paulinus, assure us, that the marks of the feet of our Saviour were imprinted in the place off which he rose to heaven; and St. Augustine informs us, that many in his time went to Judea, to venerate these sacred marks. Ven. Bede testifies the same in the eighth age [i.e. in the 8th century]. In the time of Constantine the great, the empress Helen built a church on the place. (Calmet)

12 Then they returned to Jerusalem, from the mount that is called Olivet, which is near Jerusalem, within a sabbath-day's journey.

Ver. 12. Sabbath-day's journey. It cannot now be precisely determined what this distance was, but it is most probable, that it was about a mile. On particular occasions, it perhaps was allowed to exceed a little. (Calmet)

13 And when they had entered in, they went up into an upper room, where abode Peter and John, James and Andrew, Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew and Matthew, James, of Alpheus, and Simon Zelotes, and Jude, of James.

14 All these were persevering with one mind in prayer with the women, and Mary, the mother of Jesus, and his brethren.

Ver. 13-14. Into an upper room, to be more retired in prayer. There they were persevering with one mind in prayer. These few words denote to us three dispositions to receive the Holy Ghost. 1. Prayer. 2. Perseverance in it. 3. To be of one mind, perfectly united in charity, and the love of one another. (Witham) --- This is the last mention that is made in Scripture of the blessed Virgin Mary. She lived the rest of her time with the Christians (as here she is particularly named and noted amongst them) and especially with St. John, the apostle, to whom our Lord recommended her. (St. John xix 26. 27.) She undoubtedly communicated to the evangelists many circumstances relative to the actions, words, and mysteries of her divine Son.

15 In those days Peter, rising up in the midst of the brethren, said: (now the number of persons together, was about an hundred and twenty:)

Ver. 15. Peter, rising up, &c. Peter, says St. Chrysostom on this place, who was prince, or chief of the apostolical college, who had authority over them all, who by his place and dignity, might, without them, have chosen, and appointed a new apostle to succeed Judas, (Christ having said to him, confirm thy brethren,) &c. yet he consults them. (Witham) --- Here Peter acts and ordains in virtue of his supremacy, and the other apostles agree to his appointment.

Note:

Ver. 15. St. Chrysostom, om.g. tou chorou protos, &c.

16 Men, brethren, the Scripture must be fulfilled, which the Holy Ghost foretold by the mouth of David, concerning Judas, who was the leader of them that apprehended Jesus:

Ver. 16. No explanation given.

17 Who was numbered with us, and had obtained part of this ministry.

Ver. 17. No explanation given.

18 And he indeed hath possessed a field of the reward of iniquity, and being hanged, burst asunder in the midst: and all his bowels gushed out.

Ver. 18. Possessed a field. Judas is here said to have done, what was done by others, with the thirty pieces of money, the reward of his iniquity. And being hanged, that is, as St. Matthew says, (chap. xxvii. 5.) having hanged himself, he burst asunder. The Greek has it, falling headlong, as perhaps he did, by the judgment of God, from the place or tree where he hanged himself. (Witham) --- Judas did not possess the potter's field, but he furnished the price to buy it, giving back the thirty pieces of silver. (Menochius) --- We often say in common, that we have done what happens in consequence of any action of ours, though it was not in our first intention. (Calmet)

Note:

Ver. 18. Suspensus crepuit medius, prenes genomenos.

19 And it became known to all the inhabitants of Jerusalem: so that the field is called in their tongue, Haceldama; that is, The field of blood.

Ver. 19. No explanation given.

20 For it is written in the book of Psalms: Let their habitation become desolate, and let there be none to dwell therein: and let another take his bishoprick.

Ver. 20. His bishoprick. The words were prophetically spoken in the Psalms, of the traitor Judas. (Witham) --- Let their habitation. In some manuscript copies, in both Greek and Syriac, we read his. In the Psalms, the text was written against the Jews, the persecutors of Christ in general; but in this place, Peter applies it to Judas in particular. (Estius, in a different place.)

21 Wherefore of these men who have companied with us, all the time that the Lord Jesus came in and went out among us,

Ver. 21. Came in, and went out among us. That is, conversed with us. (Witham)

22 Beginning from the baptism of John, until the day wherein he was taken up from us, one of these must be made a witness with us of his resurrection.

Ver. 22. No explanation given.

23 And they appointed two, Joseph, called Barsabas, who was surnamed Justus, and Matthias.

Ver. 23. No explanation given.

24 And praying, they said; Thou, O Lord, who knowest the hearts of all men, shew which of these two thou hast chosen,

Ver. 24. No explanation given.

25 To take the place of this ministry, and apostleship, from which Judas hath by transgression fallen, that he might go to his own place.

Ver. 25. To his own place of perdition, which he brought himself to. (Witham)

26 And they gave them lots, and the lot fell upon Matthias, and he was numbered with the eleven apostles.

Ver. 26. And he gave them lots, which they might lawfully do, when they knew that both of them were fit, and every way qualified for the office. (Witham) --- Lots. This method of deciding the election of ministers by lots, is one of those extraordinary methods which was inspired by God; but can seldom or ever be imitated. Where both candidates appeared equally worthy, as in the present case, and human judgment cannot determine which is to be preferred, it cannot be said that it was wrong to decide it by lots. Thus were avoided any of the evil consequences which might have happened by one party being preferred before the other. St. Augustine observes, that in a doubtful case, where neither part is bad, to decide by lots is not in itself wrong. Sors enim non aliquid mali est, sed res est in dubitatione humana divinam indicans voluntatem. (In Psalm xxx.) (Haydock)

‘It Feels Like a 1776 Kind of Fight’

New Post has been published on https://thebiafrastar.com/it-feels-like-a-1776-kind-of-fight/

‘It Feels Like a 1776 Kind of Fight’

The most momentous week in the nascent political career of Congresswoman Mikie Sherrill began with a question about the president and Ukraine: “Is anybody thinking that these are impeachable offenses?”

It was the text and subtext of a torrent of messages she exchanged over several days with a cadre of fellow first-termers, centrist Democrats, like her, who are veterans or former CIA employees and who have tried to adjust together to Washington at this particularly tumultuous time. Usually, they ping each other about different bills or votes but also their kids, family fishing trips or drinks after work. Over this past weekend, though, the familiar back-and-forth turned far more serious, and fast. What they were learning, Sherrill told me, recalling their running conversation, was “shocking” and “grave.” Had the president solicited a foreign leader to dig up dirt on one of his main potential rivals in the 2020 election?

Story Continued Below

On Sunday, Sherrill attended a memorial service for a councilman in her New Jersey district, did two fundraisers and spoke to a group of high school students considering attending a military academy, reminding them that they were “signing up to a lifetime of service”—all the while stealing time to tend to the mounting stream of pressing texts. By 9 that night, on a conference call, Sherrill said, the group of seven had decided they needed to step off the sidelines. Until then, they had remained conspicuously noncommittal on impeachment, a position House Speaker Nancy Pelosi effectively had endorsed with her own refusal to fully embrace formal hearings.Now, they put what they had to say in clear, blunt language in a joint op-ed: They felt they had to “preserve the checks and balances envisioned by the Founders and restore the trust of the American people in our government.”

On Monday, in a shared Google document, they worked quickly, fussing over edits and choices of words, wanting it to land before Congress resumed. In the evening, some 10 minutes before their thunderclap of a piece published, Sherrill called her mother to tell her what it said and that she loved her.

On Tuesday, she went on CNN and MSNBC, and she talked to “The Daily” and WNYC. Characteristically measured, affable and unflappable, she said there was no ringleader in the group; and yes, they realized it would be an important statement. That evening, she watched as Pelosi stood before a bank of cameras at the Capitol and formally agreed to the very thing that she and her co-authors had requested. In a whirlwind span of some 72 hours, this former Navy helicopter pilot, this former federal prosecutor, this mother of four who had never held elected office of any kind before January of this year, and who for months had scrupulously avoided calling for impeachment, had become an agent of historic change.

Sitting in her office on Wednesday evening, finally at relative rest after a series of meetings and votes, she tried to put into words for me what had compelled her to act. She repeated variations of things she had said all week, and then, as she spoke of priorities of hers that might get shuffled because of the impending hearings, her chin started to quiver. Her eyes started to well. Sherrill started to cry.

“Um,” she said, struggling to collect herself to speak, “I don’t know why I’m getting so emotional …”

Given her usual discipline and disposition, this was unexpected. But it was somehow simultaneously also the most normal thing I saw on Wednesday in the midst of the growing frenzy on the Hill. These last few years have been unprecedented, a relentless stress test for this democracy. In two and a half centuries, three presidents of the United States have faced impeachment, and now, Donald Trump is about to be the fourth. All of it can feel overwhelming, and should, because it is. And Sherrill is at the center of this latest turn. She’s one of the reasons it’s happening.

None of this would be unfolding—it couldn’t be—if Sherrill and others like her hadn’t won in 2018, in districts like hers, flipping them from red to blue, giving Democrats control of the House of Representatives and thus the ability to perform meaningful oversight, including pressing forward on impeachment. But she had won partly by promising she wanted to work with not only those in her caucus but Republicans as well, preaching the necessity of bipartisanship. She didn’t come down here looking for a fight, and certainly not this one. It was “the squad,” not “the badasses,” who arrived clamoring to “impeach the motherfucker.”

From the start, and in a way that felt unusual for a freshman, Sherrill seemed to understand the source of her power. That her district mattered. That what she thought mattered. That what she said (and didn’t say) mattered. And then she said what she said on Monday. “As members of Congress,” she wrote with the others, “we have prioritized delivering for our constituents—remaining steadfast in our focus on health care, infrastructure, economic policy and our communities’ priorities. Yet everything we do harks back to our oaths to defend the country. These new allegations are a threat to all we have sworn to protect.”

Now, 48 hours later, in her office, she used a Kleenex to wipe her eyes.

“Hell of a lot of pressure,” I offered.

“I think it’s not the pressure of doing this, because I think we were all comfortable doing this,” she told me. “I think it’s the pressure of conveying to our country—because I think we all understand how egregious this is—and so, if we somehow fail in conveying that to the country, and fail in conveying how important this is, and fail in conveying why we need to support the Constitution and our values, and why need to be better than, you know, what we’re demonstrating, if we fail to bring America along with this, that feels … like a really big blow to our values. It feels like … a crack in the Constitution.”

Again, her voice got thick, shaky.

“And that,” she said, “feels like a really big responsibility.”

***

Even before the outset of the 116th Congress, I had decided to keep tabs on Sherrill. She was important, more important, perhaps, than many believed. I had a suspicion that what Sherrill did and did not do, as much as or even more than her more famous counterparts among the new women of Congress, would help determine the direction Democrats took and the broader dynamics of today’s fraught political terrain. That meant visits with her here, and especially visits with her in her district in New Jersey.

Until this point, as she attempted to drill down on her less sexy slate of issues, as she sat on the House Armed Services Committee and chaired the oversight and investigations arm of the House Science, Space and Technology Committee and even helped form a bipartisan group working to protect the nation’s political system from enemy attacks, Sherrill resolutely had pushed back on constituents’ requests for her support for impeachment.

When she was quizzed about it at her very first town hall, at a big, packed gym at the Police Athletic League of Parsippany, she urged the people to wait for special counsel Robert Mueller to finish his investigation. She called him “widely respected.” Well aware, of course, that she had won due to the support of Democrats but not just Democrats, she made sure to mention that Mueller was a Republican.

She tried to impress upon the audience the stakes. “People know that impeaching our president is going against the democratic will of the people,” she said then. “Going against the will of the people like that is a huge step to take. I think it undermines our executive branch. It undermines institutions of our democracy. I’m not saying it’s not a step that I would take. It’s simply a step that I would take very carefully.”

Those last two words. They were a preview of what was to come.

I was at a town hall in May at which she said she wanted to wait to listen to Mueller’s testimony.

And at a sequence of town halls last month, spanning the broad political spectrum of the area she represents, from bluer Verona to redder Kinnelon to a sprawling retirement home in Pompton Plains, more and more of her constituents expressed impatience with her message of restraint.

“If not now,” I watched a 93-year-old man ask her, “when?”

Sherrill tried to sharpen her rationale. She cited the variety of congressional committees investigating the president as well as dozens of other investigations in different jurisdictions. She discussed the slew of pending lawsuits arguing for more materials and additional testimony. And she gently warned of the potential for failure and what it might mean.

“If we don’t get a conviction on any impeachment charges we might levy, then we have suddenly given precedence to the idea that the executive branch is not accountable—to anyone,” she said. “So, if we are going to go forward with something as critical as impeaching the president, which will stop all further legislation in Congress on the issues that we’re working on and overtake us, I think it’s critical that we can make the strongest possible case to the American people.”

Not even a month ago, sitting with her on a concrete bench outside a corporate headquarters in Florham Park, New Jersey, before we went to meet with a bipartisan collection of mayors and chamber of commerce types for a tour of a local airport, Sherrill insisted she wasn’t feeling pressure to change her mind as much as she was feeling pressure to explain to her constituentswhyshe wasn’t.

“I think what I’m feeling pressure to do is to convey to people how much Icare,” she said. “One woman—I was really taken aback, because she came up to me, and she goes, ‘You know, people just don’t think you get how important this is.’ And I thought, ‘Jeez …’ I’m going down to Washington weekly to fight for our country. I care so deeply.”

There were, however, “bright lines,” she added, and she would continue to look for them, she said, heading into the fall.

***

And then there one was.

She just knew.

“The President of the United States,” Sherrill wrote on Monday night in a separate statement that she posted on her Facebook page, “is threatening our national security.”

Late Wednesday afternoon, I walked with her from her office to the Capitol, where we stood outside the doors to the floor of the House.

“It’s so incredibly offensive,” she said, “because we, in my mind, are notademocracy—we arethedemocracy. We have always protected democracies across the world. I don’t have rose-colored glasses about some of the things the United States has done that have been bad for the world—but, my gosh, we’ve protected democracies from foreign influence. We’ve helped nationsbecomedemocracies. And so, to have the president now try to use a foreign government to harm our democracy at home …”

“It’s just so beyond the pale,” she continued when we got back to her office.

She likened the president’s actions to those of the Mafia.

“To hear the president kind of shake down a foreign power, it’s just egregious conduct,” she said. “And so, the bright line, of course, is the fact that, in very basic terms, the president of the United States withheld congressionally directed military funding, illegally, from the foreign power, and then went to that foreign president and said, ‘Could you do me a favor? Basically, look into this guy running against me.’ That’s the bright line.”

She was sitting in the middle of the couch in her office, and I was sitting on a chair across from her with a coffee table between. On her shelves were her helicopter helmet and a doorstop of a history of the Navy and a pocket-sized copy of the Constitution given to her by a constituent, and I asked her whether she knew that her op-ed with the other “badasses and the guys,” as she called the seven of them, was going to lead to … all of this? To more and more Democrats voicing similar support? To the dam breaking, so to speak?

She was, at first, the calm, cautious controlled Sherrill I’ve become accustomed to.

“That wasn’t part of the calculation,” she started.

“But I think we suspected that our decision would have an impact,” she added.

Here, though, after practically reflexively mentioning people’s tax burdens and health care costs and the importance of the funding of tunnels and roads for the many commuters in her district, she found herself grappling with the breathtaking stakes of this now much larger fight. And for Sherrill, it became clearer and clearer as she kept talking, this is far from merely about checking the 45th president.

“It’s critical for people to believe in our democracy,” she said, “and to not feel like … the whole thing is rigged.”

This is when her chin started to quiver.

“I think it’s incumbent upon me to be able to explain to our country why this is different and why we have to act.

“This is against everything we fought for in the military,” she continued, “as somebody who invested in her country from the time I was 18 years old. Um, so I think we all knew we had to stand up for these values, but now we have to remind people in the country”—she stopped, trying to gather herself again, to little avail—“who don’t seem to be coalescing around our values right now. We have to remind people that these aren’t just kind of a set of, um, you know, these aren’t just kind of things that somebody worked out on the back of an envelope in 1776. I mean, these are, these are things that a group of people who were deciding that they didn’t want to operate under tyranny, a group of people who were deciding that they wanted to try this experiment, where individuals, um, could actually have a say in the government …”

Sniffling, she kept talking. “I’m trying to talk through this,” she said. “I hate that I’m getting emotional about it, but I just think that, um, we as Americans are—it’s just there’s a little bit of a lack of faith right now, and I think it’s important that we remind people of the sacrifices that”—she paused again to try to settle her voice—“I think it’s important that we remind people of the sacrifices that have been made for the Constitution and for what we believe in.”

It feels, Sherrill said, like a “1776 kind of fight.”

An existential fight.

“It feels like a really big fight,” I said.

“It feels like a really big fight,” she agreed.

She took another Kleenex and wiped her face and stood up.

Read More

Christian Testimonies|Putting Aside Vanity Whilst Praying, She Got Released in Her Heart

By Si’ai, Canada

It has been more than nine months since Si’ai accepted God’s kingdom gospel. During this period, she had meetings, learned to sing hymns, shared experiences and communicated with brothers and sisters, feeling released and free in her heart. But the only thing that made her feel constrained was to pray audibly in front of the brothers and sisters.

Once, when singing hymns before fellowship, Si’ai became nervous and thought to herself: What will I say if brothers and sisters ask me to pray later? Then she began to marshal the words she would say in her head. Just as Si’ai expected, after singing hymns praising God, brothers and sisters suggested that she pray for others. Si’ai could only bite the bullet and agreed. When praying, she tried to calm herself down and recollect the words she marshaled a few minutes ago, but couldn’t recollect them all. As a result, her prayer was incoherent, without structure or order, and her heart was thumping with intensity. After praying, Si’ai felt so embarrassed that she was afraid to look at everyone in the eye. Seeing her embarrassed situation, brothers and sisters all encouraged and comforted her, but she still felt shameful and decided not to pray for others anymore in the future.

After that, the church leader encouraged everyone to practice presiding over the meeting. By this way, brothers and sisters could take on the burden of their own and others’ lives growth. Once, after listening to the Sermons and Fellowship on Entry Into Life on line, brothers and sisters shared their own knowledge and harvest with each other as usual. When the meeting was nearing its end, Brother Muzhen presiding over the meeting spoke.

Muzhen: Having listened to the sermon and shared knowledge with each other, let’s pray to wrap the meeting up. Could Sister Si’ai pray together with me?

When Si’ai heard the brother asking her to pray for others, she got so nervous that her heart was thumping. She thought to herself: Should I pray? It isn’t suitable that I don’t pray, for it’s a duty; if I pray but can’t express it well, how will numerous brothers and sisters being on line see me? Si’ai felt lost and really did not have the courage to click the “microphone” icon.

After a while, Brother Muzhen again started to call: “Is Sister Si’ai still on line?”

When Si’ai heard the brother still calling her, resistance began in her heart: How could the brother be like this? You can pray by yourself when I don’t answer, why are you still calling me? Si’ai felt praying together with the brother was very stressful, for he expressed it well. However, the better she wanted to express it, the poorer her prayer was, so she said nothing. Finally, Si’ai didn’t click the “microphone” icon. At that moment, Brother Yang Guang said that the sister might not be in front of the computer and that he would pray for others.

Shortly after the meeting, Si’ai’s phone was ringing. She saw that it was Brother Yang Guang calling. And she received it.

Yang Guang: Sister, weren’t you in front of the computer just now? We’ve finished the meeting.

When Si’ai remembered that she should be honest and couldn’t tell lies as a believer in God, she answered the brother honestly.

Yang Guang: Oh, when Brother Muzhen called you, why didn’t you answer?

Si’ai(a little piqued): When the former sister presided, we all prayed silently; but when Brother Muzhen presided, he asked me to pray for others. I was somewhat restricted in front of so many people, and afraid that if I couldn’t express it well, brothers and sisters would laugh at me: “She has believed in God for a long time but still doesn’t know how to pray.” So I didn’t have the courage to click the “microphone” icon to pray for others. Afterward, I realized that I was wrong to do that, and also felt uncomfortable. But I couldn’t put aside face at that time.

Yang Guang: Sister, the fact that you could think like that, shows that your intent is wrong. Whether we listen to the sermon or pray for others, these are all our duties. If we pray to God with our heart, brothers and sisters won’t laugh at us. Today, the brother asked you to pray for others, and this is God’s love coming down on you. It’s because we don’t know how to pray that we need to practice more.

As he spoke, Yang Guang sent a passage of God’s word to Si’ai.

“If you believe in the dominion of God, then you must believe that the things that happen every day, be they good or bad, don’t happen accidentally. It is not that someone doesn’t get on with you or opposes you on purpose; it is actually all arranged and orchestrated by God. What does God orchestrate these things for? It is not to reveal your shortcomings for everyone to see or to expose you; exposing you is not the final aim. The aim is to perfect you and save you.”

Yang Guang: We can see from God’s word that the people, occurrences and things we encounter every day are all presided, orchestrated and arranged by God. It didn’t happen for no rhyme or reason. For example, Brother Muzhen asked you to pray for others today, although on the outside it seems that the brother asked you to do it, if we retreat to our spirit to understand it, we’ll see all these things are arranged by God. God is aware of our shortcomings and inadequacies and His giving you such a chance to practice was to make up for your lack. If we think that the person is going against us and we complain and don’t obey, we’ll not learn our lessons.

Si’ai: Through such fellowship, I understand that it was really God’s love that the duty of praying for others came upon me. Because I don’t know how to pray, I need the chance to practice. However, for fear of losing face, I didn’t obey and I also complained against and resented Brother Muzhen. Taking such attitude to the environment God arranged for me, I failed to live up to God’s earnest intentions for me.

At that moment, Si’ai felt very blameworthy, and she silently prayed to God in her heart: “Oh God! I thank You for sending the brother to fellowship with and help me. It was really my fault to deal with the thing in such a way that happened today. Prayer is a duty I should perform, but in order not to lose my face, I refused the brother’s invitation of praying for others and I thought that the brother made a difficulty for me and went against me on purpose. My understanding is wrong. Oh God, I feel ashamed before You and I’m willing to repent and apologize to You.”

…

Later, Sister Xiaoya became aware of Si’ai’s situation and took the initiative to communicate with her.

Xiaoya: We’re always afraid that if we can’t pray well, how others will see us. We can see from this that we attach a great deal of importance to our position and image in people’s hearts. Because we have this kind of situation and revelation, we’ll not pay attention to saying the words that are in our heart to God when praying, but rather caring about how to speak fluently to earn other’s admiration. With these impurities, we can’t quiet our heart in God’s presence, so we can’t get released in our heart and are always restrained and afraid of praying. We don’t harbor right intentions. Let’s read two passages of God’s word.

God’s word says, “The first step of truly loving God and being gained by Him is to completely turn your heart toward God. In every single thing that you do, search yourself and ask: “Am I doing this based on a heart of love for God? Is there any personal intention in it? What is my actual goal in doing this?” If you want to hand your heart over to God you must first subdue your own heart, give up on all of your own intentions, and achieve the point of being completely for God. This is the path to practice giving your heart to God.”

“Do not do things before men; you should do them before God. By accepting God’s observation and inspection, your heart is set aright. If you are always concerned with acting for people to see, then your heart will never be set aright. Also, when you act do not act for yourself. Do not take into account your own interests. Do not take into account the interests of man. Do not take into account your own position, face, or reputation.”

We learn from God’s word that in all things, whether we perform our duty, listen to sermons or pray for others, we should accept God’s scrutiny and face God to do them. How people see us isn’t important, and how God sees us is the key. How we should do can satisfy God and fulfill our duty, and these are what are important. Actually, after being corrupted by Satan, we have cared so much about our face. Whether we speak or do things, we focus on what other people say and how other people see us. Since we are constrained by these corrupt dispositions, we can’t get released in our heart. As far as prayer is concerned, it is a means that we can say the words in our heart honestly to God and get released in our heart, but being controlled and restricted by our vanity and face and fearful of losing face for not expressing it well, we cannot get released in our heart by praying, but instead are more bound and chained. Thus we can’t achieve the results of praying. So when we’re made to pray for others, we should let go of our wrong intentions, don’t consider how brothers and sisters will see us and should quiet our heart in God’s presence. If we practice in this way, we’ll gain God’s guidance and can say the words of praying easily.

Si’ai (happily): After seeing God’s word and listening to the brothers’ and sisters’ fellowship, I understand that all the people, matters and things are orchestrated and arranged by God for perfecting me and changing me. I cared so much about my face, and was always afraid that how brothers and sisters would see me when I didn’t express it well in my prayer. God is to change this aspect of my corruption through the situation of praying for others coming upon me.

Xiaoya: Thank God! We can accept this as being from God and understand that God arranged this situation in order to cleanse and change our corrupt disposition. Thus, we no longer live in suffering and misunderstand and blame God. In addition, we should understand the reason why we are afraid of praying. One aspect is that we care so much about our face, for fear that if we don’t express it well and smoothly, how people will see us; another aspect is that we don’t understand the meaning of prayer. I send two passages of God’s word, and let’s read them.

God’s word says, “Prayer is one of the ways in which man cooperates with God, it is a means by which man calls upon God, and it is the process by which man is touched by God’s Spirit. It can be said that those who are without prayer are dead ones without spirit, proof that they lack the faculties to be touched by God. Without prayer, they are unable to attain a normal spiritual life, much less are they able to follow the work of the Holy Spirit; without prayer, they sever their relationship with God, and are incapable of receiving God’s approval. Being someone who believes in God, the more you pray, the more you are touched by God. Such people have greater resolution and are more able to receive the latest enlightenment from God; as a result, only people like this can be made perfect as soon as possible by the Holy Spirit.”

“Whilst praying, your heart must be at peace before God, and it must be sincere. You are truly communing and praying with God; you must not deceive God using nice-sounding words. Prayer is centered around that which God wishes to complete today. Ask God to bring you greater enlightenment and illumination, and bring your actual state and troubles before God to pray, and make resolution before God. Prayer is not the following of procedure, but the seeking of God using your true heart. Ask that God protect your heart, making it able to often be at peace before God….”

We can see from God’s word that prayer is a way to commune with God and establish a normal relationship with God. Only by praying to God with our true heart and drawing near to Him can we obtain the work and enlightenment of the Holy Spirit. Thus, we can better understand God’s word and His will, and establish a normal relationship with Him. For example, there are many things we will encounter in our daily life, and we can only see some external phenomena, but cannot understand the essence of the issue. We also cannot experience God’s work and even less know how to do to be after God’s heart. At this moment, through our praying and seeking, God will enlighten us to understand the truth and His will in these things. Thus, we can act in harmony with God’s will and satisfy Him when doing things, and also establish a normal relationship with God at the same time. And God requires us to pray, not asking us to parrot the nice words and say them, but to quiet our heart in His presence and to say the words that are in our heart to Him. Whether our practical difficulties and situation, or the questions we don’t understand, we can pray and commit them to God. As long as we call out to Him sincerely, He will listen to our prayer and lead us to solve these difficulties. As we can see, it is important for any of us Christians to pray to God and commune with God sincerely.

Si’ai: Thank God! I become much clearer in my mind through such fellowship. Prayer is the need of any of us and a process of our communion with God. Prayer is speaking words in our heart to God, saying whatever that must be said to God. If we harbor the right intentions when praying, God will listen to our prayer, lead and enlighten us. Thus, we can obtain the work of the Holy Spirit and establish a normal relationship with God!

Xiaoya: Amen! Thank God.

Through this fellowship, Si’ai understood that prayer is a precondition to our pursuing and gaining the truth. She also came to realize that because she was always controlled by her self-image, she was unable to quiet her heart before God when praying, and that it made her life suffer loss. She resolved to put aside her self-image and put the truth into practice next time.

Later, Si’ai deliberately put aside her vanity in the gatherings, and even if she couldn’t express it well, she was willing to practice praying; and even she proactively said to brothers and sisters, “I’ll pray for others at today’s meeting.” She felt happy when speaking these words, and she could quiet her heart and wasn’t so controlled by her self-image when praying.

Si’ai thought back on her past: Every time before praying, she marshaled the words she would say in her prayer, but when praying, she forgot the sentences which she had thought out. At that time, she treated prayer as a formality and she prayed perfunctorily. Now, when praying before fellowship, she prays and commits the content of what they will fellowship about and the results achieved from gatherings to God. How much she has understood of what she has heard, and how much she’ll pray. She has stopped thinking about saying nice words to earn people’s admiration. After practicing several times, Si’ai felt she could speak naturally when praying, and moreover could obtain the guidance and enlightenment of the Holy Spirit and get released in her heart. Thank God!

He Felt Nothing

As an infant, Karen Issa didn’t laugh very much, but rather, preferred to stare and ponder. This tendency continued as she got bigger and in grade school she was pegged by her classmates and teachers to soar high and far based on her cerebral and inquisitive disposition. 

But despite Karen’s intelligence she missed an important lesson in early life: too much thinking was a dangerous thing. In her Grade 8 valedictory speech she said that school should ask harder questions of young people like what they expected things to be like when they grew up and how they the children, planned to make their livings while not endangering the planet the way their parents were.    

The audience’s tepid applause following the speech marked the beginning of Karen’s social exclusion. The majority of her high school and university life was passed in solitude. She smoked pot and took Percocets as a substitute for social contact. Even on the occasions she did get invited to parties, the fact remained her imagination was more interesting than most of what went on in the outside world, or at least in Calgary, where she lived. 

Fortunately during university, Karen discovered that writing fiction could fuel her imagination without the negative side effects of drugs or the high cost of travel. Thus she decided to shirk a traditional, middle-class career-path and make writing her life’s goal.  

-

Matthew Colton’s father was a carpenter-handyman and his mother, a night-manager at Denny’s. From an earlier age, they’d both encouraged Matthew to find a high-paying, white-collar job that wouldn’t run him ragged to support a family the way theirs had them. Matthew rebelled and decided to go to art school after he graduated from high school. He built up and maintained his dream of being a visual artist despite bitter arguments with both his parents. But, after completing his degree and working for two years, he’d only managed to sell a few paintings and eating beans and rice every day was a drain on his creative energy. One day, at the art supply store where he worked to pay his bills, his manager said that he should have been an accountant because his cash-outs and ledger entries were so meticulous. Matthew paused and replied,  “Maybe I still will.” 

The night of his manager’s comment Matthew went to the five-bedroom house he rented with some friends and fellow artists. He looked up the requirements to become a chartered accountant and it turned out his fine arts counted towards the designation and that the additional courses and training he needed wouldn’t require another four years of full-time study and tens of thousands of dollars in tuition the way becoming a doctor or lawyer would. Only one flicker of doubt lingered in his mind: One of his roommate’s had once referred to accountants as “bean-counters.”

“Beats being a bean-eater,” Mathew said to himself, and he enrolled in Introductory Accounting Principles and Practice at the University of Calgary.

-

Karen experienced various professional and personal difficulties in her twenties but nothing so severe it broke her commitment to being a writer. Now, as she approached thirty, published in a handful of small literary magazines but without a book deal, the personal and financial costs of writing as a career began to weigh on her.  At least she was more stable money-wise, she thought. She’d started working as a flight-attendant for Air Canada, a job that gave her weeks off at a time to pour into writing. Plus, she was dating an accountant which made her feel more responsible by association.   

Throughout this time, her looks betrayed her. She was beautiful, with mother-of-pearl skin, wavy blonde hair and sharp hazel eyes. She and the accountant met at a mutual friend’s house-warming party where he‘d stared at her nearly non-stop for an hour.  After she’d ruled out he wasn’t near-sighted or dumb, she walked up to him and asked why he was staring at her, if she had something on her face or a third eye.  

“No,” he replied, “I was just picturing you in the morning with one of my shirts on.”

-

Matthew was on a set course and nothing or no one was going to detract him. He was six-foot-one without a ounce of excess weight, save his plush, full lips.  Before the party where he met Karen, he’d smoked half a dime bag and used the proposition of smoking the rest of it as a reason for inviting Karen back to his condo.   

There, under dimmed, halogen lights, they had good sex – too good sex for the experience not to be repeated. The next day Karen broke things off with Jim or Joe, whoever the pilot was she’d been seeing infrequently for a few months. -

Karen and Matthew had been dating almost a year when she boarded AC1896 from Calgary to Las Vegas.  It was the 15th of February, the day after Valentine’s Day.   

“Good morning, captains,” Karen said glancing towards the cockpit on her way to the flight attendants’ station at the back of the plane.  One of the pilots was Jim or Joe, the guy she’d dated before Matthew and he recognized her immediately.  He remembered how she’d dumped him less than a year ago, claiming that she needed space in order to better concentrate on writing. He was in the midst of hanging up his jacket in the hallway closet when she stepped into view. Feeling undesirable and embarrassed, he fumbled with the coat-hanger and dropped his jacket on the floor.          

Instinctively, Karen started to help him but then changed her mind. She feared that prolonging the encounter might expose the fact she couldn’t remember his name. “Have a good flight, captain,” she said and walked off, feeling her jilted ex-lover’s eyes on her back. If only she could remember his name maybe she wouldn’t feel so bad.  

Valerie and Mike arrived soon after and the cabin pressure fell. Karen took a discrete look at her compact to verify her sleeplessness was adequately hidden.  She snapped the heavy plastic case shut and spoke to Valerie: “Hi Valerie.  How’s LAS treating you? Which turn are you on?” 

“It’s my fourdt turn,” Valerie said. “It ‘as been vhery quiet. We ‘ad one passenger who was very drunk one time. He ran up and down de aisles yelling but I got ‘im to stop.”

“What did you do?”

“I crossed my arms and said, ‘If you don’t go back to your seat rhight this second you’re going to wish you were dead.’”

“You did not?!”

“Why don’t you ask the captaine?”

“Ok, I believe you.”   

“And you, Karen-l’écrivaine?  Where was your last turn?”

“Florida. That’s why I chose LAS. I’m hoping for a bit of excitement for a change. The retirees were killing me.”

“Careful what you desire, ma belle, or your story may turn out, how you say, tragique.’”

“Yeah, I’m sure I’ll want out of here before long…Hey, let’s play some black-jack when we get to Vegas. We’ll win a million dollars and never set foot on a plane again. Sound good?”

“Black-jack?” Mike cut in. “You guys want to hit Bellagio? It’s the best. They give you free drinks and have the hottest chicks.”  

Valerie gave him a knowing smile and asked,  “Where ‘ave you been flying, Michel?”

“Hey – Michelle’s a girl’s name. My name’s Mike, okay?”

Valerie rolled her eyes at Karen. “Hokay, Mike!”

“Good…I’ve been flying domestic. This is my first international turn. I’m totally pumped!”

Valerie rolled her eyes again. “Super!” she said. 

“Mike--” Karen interjected, “LAS has the most problems of any route we fly. If anything happens, just let Val or me take care of it, okay?”

Mike took out his cell-phone and looked at it in lieu of a response. After a few moments he said: “Oh, I better go get ready to greet the passengers.” He got up and walked up the aisle to wait for two-hundred-plus thrill-seeking travelers.

-

Matthew didn’t dislike Audit the way most junior accountants did. He was in his second articling year—supposedly the most difficult stage in the CA-certification process—at Ernst & Young. He was scheduled to write the Uniform Evaluation in June and the prospect of the thirteen-hour, three-day test didn’t bother him either.  He’d been working steadily towards his designation for almost four years and wasn’t going to let a few wrought tasks like counting lumber and passing an exam get in his way.  

He was standing in front of a sprawling room of wood at his client’s soft-wood lumber warehouse. There were varying lengths of spruce, birch, pine and fir stacked on a city of shelves. He looked at the moveable staircase he’d been given to help him count the wood and, after a short inspection, went to the warehouse manager’s office to ask for help using it.

The manager was seated at a big hardwood desk in his office. He was a bloated, middle-aged man, undoubtedly no stranger to conflict given his position of authority over semi-skilled, hard-living manual labourers. “You release the stop with your foot and push it,” he said impatiently in response to Matthew’s question about how to use the staircase.

Matthew stared at the warehouse manager and smiled. 

After a moment the manager sighed and got up. He led Matthew back out into the cavernous, eight-acre room to the movable stairs. “See?” he said, pushing down a metal lever with his foot. “This. Is. The. Stop.” He pushed down on the wheel-lock mechanism. “…Release…”  

The mechanism clanked, releasing the wheel stops.

“…Push…”  

“Thank you,” said Matthew. “That was extremely helpful.”

The manager shuffled away and Matthew set about verifying the existence of six-hundred and forty-thousand pieces of lumber.

-

Karen and Valerie followed Mike to the front of Economy and Valerie went to First Class. They helped the passengers to their seats, made sure that their seatbelts were buckled and that the overhead compartments were closed. The plane taxied and took off for LAS. They climbed to a cruising altitude of 37,532 feet and Captain Jim-Joe turned off the seatbelt sign. Karen got up from her fold-down chair and headed to the front of Economy with Mike to begin pouring drinks and passing out peanuts. 

The Las Vegas-bound flyers were not dissimilar the typical airline passenger. They were predominantly middle-aged and white.  They were all Canadian except for a group of four Irish. (Vegas’s veneer of luxury and riches could apparently lure people all the way from the other side of the world.)

Karen and Mike reached the last row of the plane, poured a few more ginger-ales and Cokes then sat back down in their fold-out flight-attendants’ chairs. Valerie returned from First Class and started to talk about all the things she and her husband were going to do on their next vacation. Mike flipped through a men’s magazine while Karen listened politely. She wished Valerie would talk herself out soon so she could read her book. She was mid-way through Anna Karenina and completely engrossed in it.

Just as the pauses in Valerie’s monologue were almost long enough that Karen could politely take out her book, Mike jutted in: “We went to Cancun on our grade twelve spring-break,” he said. “It was totally awesome.” “Reallee?  I ‘eard Cancun is full ov tourists…” 

Anna would have to continue to wait. Fortunately for Karen, last night’s sex with Matthew entered her mind and distracted her from her coworkers’ banal conversation. She remembered her climax vividly. The usual tightness between her shoulders dissolved and in its place formed a tingling ball of energy. The ball crept down her back, settled between her legs, and exploded, shattering everything. Her ceaseless intellect and cool detachment lay in ruins. For a moment she even lost track of where she stopped and Matthew begun. 

Fuck, she thought as they rocketed through the atmosphere. I might be falling in love.  

Then the plane made a sudden lurch and the seatbelt light came on.  

-

Matthew hadn’t seen daylight in more than a week but at least it was almost the mid-way point of the long, prairie winter. He’d taken a week off to mourn Karen but needed to get back to auditing lumber in order to stay on track for accreditation.  Besides, although he knew he’d miss her—she was good company and great in bed—they’d only been dating for about a year and who knew where it was going. At the time of her crash, she’d still been carting most of her stuff to and from his place on weekends. They hadn’t even talked about moving in together, let alone getting married.

But that morning, as he threw away the things she’d kept at his apartment, something inside him changed. She’d had overnight clothes in his dresser and make-up and skin lotion in the vanity in the bathroom. Her femininity-inspired possessions were finer and lighter than their male counterparts, and when he packed them into a computer paper box and threw them down the garbage shoot, he started to feel like he was choking. He imagined her things tumbling down the long, metal esophagus and landing in chicken bones and soiled paper serviettes in the dumpster in the underground parking lot. He felt heartless and uncaring, but what else could he do? He didn’t hold on to useless baggage. He looked down row 108 of 123 at his client’s lumber warehouse. The florescent lighting accentuated the yellowish hue of the stacks of lumber and, along with the natural variation in colour from piece-to-piece, the scene reminded him of Van Gogh’s Wheatfield with Cypresses.  

Then the image of Karen’s things in his condo dumpster returned to his head and he had to fight back the choking sensation again. He inspected the first shelf of row 108. It was made of steel, four feet deep by six feet wide and ten feet tall. The bottom platform was six inches from the ground, supported by four horizontal beams. 

Matthew pulled one four-by-four and one eight-by-two off the shelf and arranged them like a lever under the bottom platform’s long side facing away from the subsequent shelves of row 108. He positioned the fulcrum so that the lever would lift the shelf with maximum force yet also be flat enough for him to jump on without losing his balance. Then he wheeled the movable staircase up in front of the eight-by-two, walked up to the top, aimed, and jumped. 

He landed on the eight-by-two and the lever lifted and toppled the half-ton shelf. The self fell into the shelf next to it, and it fell into the one after that, and so on.

Matthew watched the shelves domino with increasing speed and force all the way down the row of them. The warehouse manager came running out of his office at the sound of the crashing. He came up beside Matthew as the last shelf fell fifty metres away. He breathed heavily and put his hands on his face in exasperation. He looked back and forth between Matthew and the wreckage of fallen shelves. “What the fuck happened?!” he shouted.  

But Matthew had already turned and started walking towards the exit. He tossed his clipboard and pencil on the ground.  Useless baggage, he thought.  

-

No one should have begrudged Karen her detachment from outer life, but invariably they did. Matthew thought she lacked interest in him so he acted disinterested towards her in return. It was less ignorant than any of her previous boyfriends’ but flawed all-the-same.  

Captain Jim-Joe’s misinterpretation was murderous, sexist, and no-doubt a product of much deeper psychological problems and mental illness. He thought that Karen’s rejection of him was based on her conscious appraisal of his person, rather than her general obtuseness, or at most, a passing assessment of their mutual incompatibility.  

On the morning he saw her for the first time since she’d dumped him, his co-pilot stepped out of the cabin to use the bathroom shortly after they’d reached cruising altitude. Jim told himself that if he couldn’t attract a flight attendant, he wasn’t a real captain, or even a man. He locked the cabin door, and amidst the pleas and screams that soon arrived from outside, he steered the plane and its two-hundred and twelve innocent passengers and crew into the peak of Mount Jefferson.