#All in one: I agree with your theory. That we're just an opponent and that we shouldn't be treated differently

[barbwritesstuff]

Speaking of Marcel's chess game, it got me thinking about how he thinks, especially in relation to things like duels or what have you. Marcel is skilled at chess and fencing, which are both incredibly strategic activities but also ones that have, for lack of better words, "tried and trued methods". Kind of similar to how video games have "metas" or basically, "a generally agreed upon strategy by the community", which can also be seen by the community as "what is currently THE general best way to play and win".

I played with a Doctor background and chose to train under Marcel to unlock Path of the Shadow, so I don't know if this affects anything regarding blocking mind reading since I assume any mental powers would be in the Path of the Masters.

Regardless! I went into the chess game with this hypothesis about Marcel's character and how he approaches situations like chess matches or even fencing matches (I'm an ex-fencer, so I did consider the connection): as mentioned above, there are "generally agreed on strategies". With that in mind, the thing is, sometimes complete newbies can best masters at their given skill because they have no understanding of which moves are exactly the best. For example, choosing a "non-standard", or more accurately "nonoptimal" starting move at chess to force chess masters to adjust in real-time rather than go by a memorized opening theory. This then may frazzle someone because now their opponent is no longer going "by the book" and they are under pressure to adapt quickly.

It's basically a complete noob beating a master because the noob isn't employing Finklerunger's Gambit even though EVERYONE uses Finklerunger's Gambit! And the master has no prepared counterstrategies against people who don't use Finklerunger's Gambit!

This idea of "noob-fu" can be applied to fencing, and even video games like competitive Pokemon! Because the idea here is that masters at these games are so used to (and sometimes outright wedded to) what is the tried and trued strategies or the meta to the point that they can be blindsided by unpredictability or people who don't play the game by the rules they and other masters like them know. They are confined by the strategies they and other masters typically employ to the point that they hadn't even considered the very possibility of someone doing something that ISN'T The Very Best Possible Move, even if that possibility was always right under their noses.

Where was I going with this? Right. I just thought it was an interesting thought regarding Marcel and his strategic thought process. Since we're still pretty early in the game, I don't think that it's a case of Marcel being unable to think creatively or outside of the box at all, so much as I think he likely tends to put more trust in what he knows. He sees an opportunity and he takes it. He creates situations to put pressure on one of your most important assets and expects you to scramble.

At the same time though, I think the chess match comes down to knowing your opponent. Again, very, VERY applicable to fencing matches (or really any sort of one-on-one martial art) and competitive video games: a big part of the game is knowing your opponent and how they will behave, predicting what they will do, and playing around them.

Skip this paragraph for light spoilers about the Ch5 chess match: For example, you know that Marcel is too good of a player to make simple mistakes like leaving certain pieces vulnerable, so you don't take the bait, which opens up the avenue to win (or at least it did in my file).

It also kind of got me thinking. Again, I may not be 100% right about this read of Marcel's character because it is still fairly early in the game, but it did manage to lead me to victory in this situation. It made me think about the ways in which the MC and Marcel have gotten to know each other and what they may not know about the other yet, if ever. I dunno. I just like him very much lololol

Anyways I am sorry for this gigantic word vomit! (シ_ _ )シ It was just an interesting thought I got while playing against Marcel and I wanted to share it. As someone who has never played chess ever, I was proud of myself for beating him on my first attempt (or I guess technically my character's fourth attempt lololol) I didn't expect to fall this deep for Thicker Than and its characters, especially considering that I haven't played Blood Moon yet! (it's now on my next to play list o(^∀^*)o)

from: @binteractive

💙💙💙

You're right... about pretty much everything. He's been playing this game (be it chess, fencing, or being a vampire) for a long time and is very good at it. The way to beat him (and to seduce him funnily enough) is to be a bit unpredictable.

[live-digital-love]

♡ Mitsuyame / Higatano | Manhunt

♡ Eventual fluff.

♡ Playful bickering.

♡ Ayame agrees to a certain deal after Mitch makes it sound appealing; only, it results in... "a happy accident."

♡

Game day. Game day, game day, game day.

The day that the classes all get together and compete against one another in a sort of school-wide competition. Like... when you're a kid in school and it's field day. Only for this, the school is considered fair playing ground, and from what she's heard, everything is on the table.

The last game was something called... 'Manhunt.' It was like tag, but more than just running. It starts with one hunter, and everyone else playing the game is a target. When you get tagged, you become a hunter, and have to hunt down everyone else. Night had already fallen, so the game is to be played in the dark. One of many dangerous factors that made it all the more exciting in theory. Someone even announced over the PA system when a player was tagged.

The only important rule was: Don't get tagged. Which, while it was very, very easy, made the game not... that fun when she wasn't a hunter.

No one tried going near her after long enough. They either didn't want to try or didn't want her to let them tag her out of pity.

⠀

Now, Ayame crouched in the dark, listening to everything move around her. About half of her classmates were still free, if she's been keeping count right. It wasn't long until a new announcement was made.

'Mitsuhiro Higa has been tagged!'

Not ten minutes after that, she finally heard something to her right. Her head snapped towards the sound, and as it turned out, it was another player. Specifically, it was Mitsuhiro.

Ayame sprung up, quickly moving to keep about twenty-five feet between them, at least. He's fast. If he tried to spring at her, she needed space to move.

⠀

Her opponent froze at this, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Whoah, slow down. No need to get spooked. I'm only here to make an offer, not tag you. Pinky promise."

"Make an offer? We're playing a game right now. Why do you want to make an offer to me?"

"'Cause I get the feeling we both know this game's a bit unfair. I mean... come on. No offense to our classmates, but they've got two of the fastest athletes in the world playing for themselves. The orange-haired chick knew we'd both demolish anyone else, tha's why she's not playing. Prob'ly other nerdy bullshit too.

But point is: if you hadn't heard..."

Mitch trailed off, lazily pointing one arm up at the PA system hanging in the corner of the room.

"I let myself get tagged already."

Ayame blinked a few times at the television. What... is his point, exactly? Just pointing out they're on opposite teams? "Right. So now you want to tag me because I'm still free."

"Not it, princess. If I did wanna tag you, I woulda got you already. My offer is: You pretending I tagged you."

Her gaze trailed back to him, blinking even slower this time. This is making less and less sense the more he speaks. "Why would I do that?"

⠀

A strained chuckle escaped Mitsuhiro. His hands came up to rub his face, as if the whole conversation was exhausting him. He mumbled something into his hands... (it sounded like: "goddamn, girl, for the fastest person here, your brain sure as hell isn't..." but she wasn't entirely sure,) before peeking through his fingers.

"Two of the fastest athletes in the entire school, remember? If people think you got tagged, they're gonna shit themselves when they see both of us coming. If I don't tag you, once I get everyone else, it'll just be us left. Then you win."

"Well... don't you want to win?"

"Can't a guy just wanna help a girl out sometimes?"

She paused to consider his question, then shook her head no.

"... Damn. Well, this guy does. All I want is a nice, clean competition between me n' you. And I can't have that if there's other people out and about. You herd people to me, I tag 'em, we go until 's only us left, and we have a race across the school to see who's actually the best.

Let's be honest:

You've got the speed, but I've got the endurance. We both know I can catch you. I just wanna prove it to the whole class."

⠀

She frowned slightly. Her classmates have said he's a jerk in the past, but... maybe he could be telling the truth? Maybe? Possibly? Well. With his reputation, probably not.

"... You want to chase me to prove that you think you can keep up with me, just to boost your own ego. When, no, there's no way that you can actually catch me."

"Don't go and hurt my pride like that, fuck! Look--- I'm not only in it for my ego. I win, I get bragging rights; you win, you win the manhunt game and I'll take you out to dinner or something, okay?"

He very clearly forced a smile as he held out a hand. It wasn't even kinda hidden.

"Shake on the deal?"

⠀

Ayame considered it. Considered it more. It might not be bad. It might even be fun, to race someone that poses a competition to her again. She hasn't had that in a long time. And she might win something that isn't a race, if she can outrun him. Winning a class game and actually trying for it sounds really cool.

And he doesn't seem... too bad to work with. Right now.

Having made up her mind, Ayame nodded. She initially moved to take his hand, then--- brought it back quickly. "Wait. If you touch me, I'll be tagged, right?"

A sly, sly smirk lit up his features. He licked his teeth through his smile in satisfaction. "Heh, you got me. It was worth a shot."

"The gesture stands. We have a deal, Mitsuhiro."

Her now-ally suddenly cringed, his whole body dramatically turning away. "It's Mitch, okay? Cut it, you sound like my mom when you talk like that."

"I'm... sorry? I didn't know. But, okay. We have a deal, Mitch."

Mitch went to say something likely snarky, then sighed. "Yeah, whatever, I get it. C'mon, let's go give our classmates heart attacks."

"Only pretend heart attacks?"

"Sure. We'll see."

♡

She had to admit: that was fun.

Just as Mitch said, everyone who wasn't tagged yet panicked and took off running once they both came into view. She darted out ahead of them to make them slow down, and Mitch came up from behind and tagged them all. Ayame made sure to dart away once they were, and somehow, no one seemed to notice that her name hadn't gone over the speaker yet.

They rounded up everyone in their class this way, working together surprisingly well. Mitch naturally took on a more defensive position, allowing Ayame to guide the other players as she pleased, and waited for the right moment to spring to life and close the distance. She couldn't deny that he was fast. Really fast. The longer she watched him play, though, the more clear his weakness was: his endurance was high, but his stamina was shockingly low.

His strategy seemed to be blitzing at near max speed only for a few seconds, then falling back down to something much more comfortable to keep up the chase rather than maintaining a steady pace. Even then, he kept going for a long time before needing to fully stop.

He might be able to outlast her if he's calculated enough. As long as she can keep distance, he'll keep falling behind. When he made the bet, Mitch had to have been banking on her tiring herself out and him closing the distance after long enough.

⠀

Thus, when they got to the track and prepared for the final race:

"I have a timer I keep on my side for things like this. I'll give you thirty seconds to catch me."

Her again-opponent scoffed. When she turned to look back at him, she caught his eyes darting up to hers. Huh. Weird. "Only thirty? Why's that?"

"That's after I've hit my breaking point and have to slow down to keep going. If you really want to show off that you can catch me at my top speed, there's no point in giving you more time after I've slowed down. It might be after the point where you start slowing down, too, but I'd have to watch your form longer to know for sure."

He stared at her blankly. Then, raised his hands in mock defense once again and smiled. "Note to self: only question the runner about anything regarding running if you want her to ramble about it. Got it."

She huffed out a frown. "You asked me a question and I answered it."

"C'mon, don't take that the wrong way, it was cute. That's the most I've heard you say all day, princess. 's just that the only way it would've been more nerdy is if you started explainin' the sciency parts of it all."

"... Do you mean basic biology?"

Ayame rolled her eyes, setting the timer and leaning down over the track. "You can stop calling me that, for one."

"Whatever you say, princess."

She watched him do the same out of the corner of her eye. She could hear another grin light up his features. "What, getting tired of that one? How about Momma instead, since you talk so much like one?"

He kept going, amusing himself over more and more pet names, while she counted quietly. It isn't cheating. If he wasn't talking, he would have heard it. Really. And because he was, he wasn't ready when she finally started the timer and yelled: "Go!"

She heard Mitch take off late, sputtering over himself as he darted forward. "Hey! You know that ain't fair, Momma!"

"You should've been paying attention, uh- Dad-da! Nope, that's weird."

"Add a Y, and then it'll work that way, princess!"

⠀

That just sounds stupid. Whatever. She tried and failed to come up with a comeback to that, so all of her attention went to staying on the track. And just as she anticipated, Mitch fell into the same pattern he took on earlier: only now, fit with playful teasing. He let her put distance between them, then blitzed closer, then fell back.

He's keeping with her somehow. There's no way he can be keeping pace without pushing himself too hard. This was fun when he suggested it, but she doesn't want him to hurt himself. But she also doesn't want to lose.

Think, think, think... what to do to keep her lead without going so fast that he'll hurt himself to keep up?

He's not used to the track, but it seems to be helping him well enough despite this. From how short his bursts are, he was going faster earlier, though. Why? It's just a difference in...

Turf. He was faster going through turf, because he's wearing cleats!

If he won't slow himself down, maybe she can make him.

⠀

With that thought in mind, Ayame slowed and then suddenly darted towards the school building, avoiding any grass like the plague. Mitch picked up the pace. Thankfully, shortly after Ayame burst into the building, her theory was proven... half right:

Mitch cried out a second after she hit the tile, cursing as his feet slid out from under him. Somehow, though, he still kept up. If anything, she heard him fall into a steady sprint over his short bursts.

Final option: up the stairs, into a classroom.

The sound of metal spiked cleats scraping tile is a horrible one. Someone lost his footing again at the stairwell. But he was on her, still, despite all of this, and got way too close for comfort as she slowed even more to save energy and sling into a classroom.

He's not slowing down, at all.

Is he crazy? Does he not know what he's doing to himself!?

As a last ditch effort, Ayame vaulted over desks to put something between her and her pursuer; finally sending herself over the teacher's podium, pulling it down over her as she fell to the ground behind it.

⠀

He slammed into the wall above her so hard, he shook the whole room. Not even half a second after she hit the floor. One second passed after that, and a piercing beeping rang out.

The timer, still clipped to her shorts.

Mitch had already started leaning down, but froze the second the timer rang. He straightened back up, forcing out a wheezing chuckle. His words floated through huffs, and it sounded like a lot of effort went into pushing them out clearly. "You... you're a cheater... huh, princess? Going... in the school..."

She chuckled herself, shaking her head. It was a good workout. She actually broke a sweat. But she can't deny that she's worried. "You never said I couldn't. You okay after that? I didn't think your body could handle staying that close."

His breath turned harsh, then words fell into incoherent mumbling. He was definitely trying to say something. That isn't good.

"Mitch?"

Muttering.

"Mitsuhiro?"

Nothing.

Oh no.

She stuck her head out from under her 'distraction,' looking up to fully see Mitch, still standing over her, but barely.

He was already drenched and dripping in sweat, his entire body heaving with each heavy pant. He's shaking... He's trembling just to hold himself up over her.

Ayame slid out from under the podium, about to tell her 'rival' that he's pushed himself too far, but he did it for her. A shudder ran down his whole body, and with one last gasp; his eyes lulled, and his head followed, and his knees buckled. His body hit the floor with a horrible thud once it finally gave out.

⠀

All of the exhaustion drained away as she rose, quickly going to the collapsed man's side. A moment's panic. Not knowing what else to do, Ayame took Mitch into her arms the best she could and initially tried to pick him up. It turns out that a roughly sixty-six kilogram guy feels much, much heavier when he's unconscious. She resorted to dragging him down the hall instead.

"I should've known he'd be that petty. Why did I agree to this? I don't know what yet, but I'm gonna do something if he wakes up and tries to have a rematch..."

It didn't take long for someone to find them and help her take Mister I-Cant-Regulate-Myself-Healthily to the nurse's office. There she sat by his side, for the next hour, as conflicting feelings welled within her.

On one hand, she shouldn't have even agreed to a race if she knew he'd do this to win.

On the other, it was the most fun she's had in a long time.

On one hand, she has to help keep her fellow classmates safe, even if they're temporary competitors.

On the other, it isn't really her fault that he didn't know his limits, right? She tried to slow him down.

⠀

Thoughts like these whirled through her mind until... he finally stirred. A soft hiss escaped as he tried to move his legs, which made him try to peek at his surroundings, which made him groan in even more pain. He did hit the ground very, very hard. And likely tore muscle, if not irritating it beyond belief. There was a long pause before he opened his eyes again, slowly looking around the room he's in now.

That same smirk as before still tugged at his eyes as he took her in, taking the time to process every last bit of her and him and where they are annoyingly slow.

It made her grow anxious. "What is it? Do you need something?"

The words had a clear slur to them, some blending together and coming out slowly. "Not much. Jus' a few more seconds."

"... Of what?"

"Of the angel 'm lookin' at, beautiful. Can't believe you waited for a dumbass like me."

Ayame straightened up at this, growing rigid at the shift in words and tone. This was... sweet, compared to the teasing things he said earlier. Mitsuhiro, saying something sweet? He really does have a concussion.

She scoffed softly. "You need to go back to sleep. You're clearly still delirious."

"Huh? Whaddaya... mean? Do I look funny?"

"The Mitch I've heard wouldn't say stuff like that unless he's impaired, like right now."

He groaned, yet now, not in pain. "Really? Aww, that guy's an asshole. Look: I've gotten hit in the head so, so many times. Way too much. I know what 'm saying well enough, beautiful."

He grinned widely, now. "I know I mean it. I jus' can't think enough for the asshole guy to change what I wanna say. That's the difference. I know it so much, I wanna make another deal."

⠀

Her eyes only narrowed. Surely he can't be serious.

Yet, he... was, now straining to piece together the words he supposedly really wanted to say. "No, don't do that. Please? I know this is... way outta left field, but I wanna try while I've got you here. My deal was to take you out to dinner. Give me one night, and if it doesn't work out, I'll go away. Gone, for good. No more asshole. We got a deal?"

... Huh. Odd. She thought, and thought, and eventually reasoned that maybe giving this... 'not an asshole' Mitsuhiro a chance might be worth it. After all, if it led to another concussion, it might not be so bad. Because he's nicer. Not because she wants him to get brain damage. That would be horrible.

Either way, she crossed her arms neatly under her chest and sat back in her seat.

She's smiling. But she better not regret this.

"Okay. We have a deal, Mitch."

#mitch gets a concussion and respects women. we love to see it. #imma be honest i stopped trying to be in character at the end i just wanted something cute. #dra #danganronpa another #danganronpa another: another despair academy #ayame hatano #hatano ayame #mitsuhiro higa #higa mitsuhiro #mitsuyame #higatano #♡ ~ writing

[jpat82]

No Strings

Chapter 5

Some adult content

    You woke late the next morning, and slowly crawled out of your bed. Rubbing your face you noticed it was half pass ten and groaned. You were late to training, and Steve was stickler for lateness. You dressed in a sports bra and leggings as fast as you could, slipping your feet into to your trainers as you staggered out of your room. You rushed down the halls to the training room, hoping he would forgive you on your being late this one time.

Steve, fuck, hopefully he would be able to come off as he did before he kissed you. Oh that kiss, the one that sent sparks straight through your body leaving wanting and needing more. You tried to open the door as quietly as possible, new recruits were already paired off and sparring. You had agreed a while ago to help the Captain with training them, mainly you did it cause you wanted to know him better. Your grandfather had told you stories of the man, he had once been in Germany, long ago. The story forever seared into to your head, one with chunks of cement, bombs, blood, death and a patriotic shield.

You had grown up your whole life hearing of the story of a man dressed in blue, red and white. The man who had saved your grandfathers life, long before your parents were born, long before he had met his wife. And that man who had saved him was currently glaring across the room through the throng of young cadets right at you. His arms crossed over that large muscly chest of his, the tight white Under Armour shirt moments from tearing free. You swallowed as you held your head high and crossed the room to him, his steely gaze baring into you as you did.

"You're late." He stated, his tone harsh as his penetrating blue gaze lingered on your lips.

"I was up late Captain, my apologies, I'll make sure that doesn't happen again." You responded, turning to face the class next to him, a heavy steady thump in your chest.

"I know you won't." He whispered before clapping his hands getting everyone's attention. "Alright recruits, now I'm going to show you how to take down your opponent a different way."

All eyes were trained on the two of you and even as capable as you were during drills nothing could of prepared you for this. You came at Steve and some how, though you thought you had the upper hand next thing you knew was you were sprawled out on your back, beneath him. Steve had your hands pinned over your head, his hips snug against yours between your thighs. Heated pooled into your core, and he seemed not to noticed as he looked up at the group watching.

"Alright, you guys try." He stated, watching as the recruits paired back off leaving the two of you. He looked down at you, a small grin pulling at the side of his mouth as he pressed his hips into you a bit harder before standing.

You could feel heat rising to your cheeks, and you snagged his hand as he stretched it out to help you up.

"Looks like you could use some extra work." He smirked, turning to face everyone.

"Really? Maybe I could con you into a private lesson." You whispered back to him, you saw him smile from the corner of your eye.

"We're going to have to make sure you're stretched out first, down want to injure you right off the back." He whispered right back, all you could was roll your eyes at his retort. Who knew the captain would be good at innuendos, or maybe he was serious, all you could do was stare straight ahead watching at the team before you attempted to recreate the take down that he had done to you.

    "All everyone's attention, I'll go through it one more time." Steve bellowed, one more time turned into three, and each time when he dismissed the class he would add a gentle roll of his hip.

     It was driving you crazy, having your arms pinned above your head by him. The rolling of his hips wasn't helping, it was just making you more frustrated, and the class seemed to go on forever. All you wanted was him alone, in one of your rooms, with way less people and absolutely no clothing. By the forth time he called to go over it, he added saying that cause you were still in guard, your legs around his hips, that you were still in control. He added that since he was a super soldier that it wouldn't matter much who was in guard but under a normal situation that you shouldnt allow your opponent to have that position.

    So as you got into place to come at it him you had your plan formulated. He took you down just like he the three times before, but just as he would of rolled his hips you dug your heels into the mat and pushed back. You bridged your back upward into him, slowing rolling the entire length of your torso into his chest. Pushing his body up as you bridged fully, supporting your weight at the crown of your head and your feet.

     You rolled to your side, catching him off guard and flipped onto your front. Your arms were crossed before you and you had your knees tucked under your body. His body was wrapped around behind you, and you could feel his half hardened length pressed against you. You felt him take a deep breath, his grip on your wrists tightening and you could feel the muscles in his thighs flex as he fought back the urge to press his hips into you again.

"Class dismissed!" The Captain bellowed slowly sitting up, his hand trailing down your spine as he did.

You slowly sat up, your body almost pressed against his as everyone filed out, almost completely in his lap. Once the door latched closed Steve reached around gently grasping your throat as he did and pulled you so you were flush against him. His breath heavy against your neck, the tip of his nose slowing traveling up the side of your throat.

"You're playing with fire." He whispered, a soft moan escaped your parts lips at the implications of his word.

"You started this." You whispered back, Steve reached around with his other hand and cupped your breast through your sports bra, his finger tips stroking the material till your nipple hardened. "I never thought captain America would be dominant like this."

"You have no idea what I'm capable of." He murmured, nipping the side of your neck, his finger tips rolling your nipple between them as he tighten the grip on your throat a bit more. You could feel how hard he was, and his hips lifted up, grinding his erection into you further. "I haven't decided if I want you slow and take my time or I want to fuck your brains out, and leave you a whimpering mess."

"Never knew you had a filthy mouth, Captain." You shot right back, hearing him groan at you saying his rank.

"My room, now!" He growled.

Permanent- tag

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[dominateeye]

Reading the histories of different communist and socialist movements always surprises me with how much different groups who were really only disagreeing on one or two moderately specific ideas can spend years trying to infiltrate and undermine each other, while both considering themselves socialist, sometimes even the same kind of socialist. Sometimes these conflicts boil over into violence, and those battles tend to be very very bloody. Sometimes there's a clear winner, but I've read about a lot more that really just kill the vast majority of people on both sides, and both groups fade into obscurity.

I feel like that's reduced in recent years, and I wonder if that indicates we have genuinely worked some things out or if we're all just too suppressed and focused on fighting that suppression for us to worry about figuring out which flavor of theory is "true" communism or socialism. I worry that if we do bring down capitalism as we are now, these old divides are eventually going to present themselves again and we'll have killed each other off far faster than the capitalists ever managed to.

This is why I argue so much for socialists of different tendencies to try to understand and respect each others' ideas even while openly disagreeing with them, and to think about what ideas and ideologies they disagree with that they think they could live under and at least be better off than they are under capitalism. This is why I argue for groups promoting different tendencies to ally formally, to work together to develop loose plans for post-revolutionary society that consider every good faith tendency to be a valid source of guiding principles, to identify the best aspects of each approach and try to fit them together.

Post-revolution, division will be our downfall. It is terminally arrogant to think one tendency can kill or drive out all other tendencies, even in an area as small as a single city. The incompatibilities in our ideologies are created and maintained by us, by humans, and anything humans can build, humans can destroy. We have no viable future other than one where we collaborate across theory lines to build a world that at the very least finds the core ideas of socialism to be a good foundation for a society, that allows the existence of multiple dissonant ideologies and allows their proponents to collaborate to lead the new society, and that does everything it can to set norms and/or rules and/or laws that the vast majority of people can stand to live under, if not be entirely happy with.

I think we each need to take individual steps to keep our minds open in discussions with socialists whose theory is not our own. To aim to leave those discussions not with a demoralized opponent, or a fresh convert to your side, but a better understanding of what the other person believes, and a good idea of what you agree on and what ideas of theirs you think could work. I think we also need to accept the idea that the post-revolution world may not adhere dogmatically to one particular ideology. Part of living with other people, both on a personal level and a societal one, is that sometimes our ideas will be chosen to solve a particular problem, and sometimes they won't. If we want to build a world that can withstand ideological conflict, we need to learn to accept that, even embrace it.

Well, that's what I think, anyway. What about you?

#current active thought #eyessentials #theory #revolution #share if you want