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fictionplumis · 3 years

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Fuck it, I’m writing more headcanons I have about Aiden and the Cat School witchers because fuck you, that’s why.

It goes hand-in-hand with this post here where I first talked about how I see the mutagens affecting them, and I still stand by that but I’ve added more to my thoughts and made things a bit more complex.

To start with, if I relate anything to a mental illness in a wrong way, please correct me. I am not neurotypical, neither is anyone I know, and I’ve taken a few psych classes, but I’m by no means an expert and the last thing I want to do is contribute to damaging stereotypes and spread misinformation. I also want to say that I’m not necessarily saying it’s any mental illness-like thing that makes Cat witchers the way that they are, but more the lack of knowledge/support/treatment/coping methods combined with the typical shit upbringing of a witcher that makes things so difficult for them.

So there’s not much we actually do know about this school, not concretely anyway, and we’re also not sure how reliable the narrator is per se, because it’s very possible the stuff we do know about them is just rumors. My headcanon is that yes, most Cats are legitimately dangerous. Given that they act as assassins sometimes, I think their school teaches them to prioritize survival and money over all else, whereas I think School of the Wolf teaches their witchers that their duty is to protect.

I was RPing with someone once who had this brilliant idea of Cats being taught to take contracts for monster nests, and then killing the monsters but leaving the nests so that when they passed through the next year, they would have another contract. In my version of the Cat School, that would absolutely be in line with their philosophy. In a lot of ways, they’re taught that humans are just another type of monster sometimes. They’re good when they’re paying you, but if they start doing the same shit monsters do, what’s the difference? With their heightened emotions, it means they’re capable of really deep empathy and connection to others, but their school teaches them to use that to manipulate people. Find out what motivates them, what words and phrasing you can use to convince an Alderman out of more coin, what emotions you need to appeal to in order to get a free room for the night, stuff like that.

So let’s take a look at Karadin real quick. If we’re believing that Aiden is who Lambert says he is, then Karadin is obviously lying about why Aiden died. So what else is he lying about?

Here’s a guy who was taught to survive above all else, to use his emotions and the emotions of others to manipulate them, who is good at gathering information. Him and his rag-tag group of assassins just took out this guy--reason doesn’t matter, it happened--and now they have a renegade Wolf after them. I doubt Lambert keeps quiet, you know? He wants information on what happened to Aiden, he’s going around pounding on doors and taking names, he’s making a scene. Karadin hears about it, we know that because he expected Lambert to show up. So how can he best protect himself?

Firstly, cut all ties with his crew. Disband them. Become the guy who was into some bad shit but is now trying to clean up his life. Second, find out about the Wolf hunting them. Again, Lambert’s not exactly quiet. At the very least it wouldn’t be hard to find out that Lambert’s bitter about his life being a witcher, that he feels like his humanity was stolen was from. Why he feels that way doesn’t matter, it’s something Karadin can appeal to. Now he can become something that Lambert can sympathize with. Become the witcher that’s trying to leave the Path, start a family, and find his humanity again. You know about being a slaver, assassin, and wealthy merchant on the side, he has bank. So he pays a widowed mother to live with him, provides her and her kids food and shelter and safety, and all she has to do is pretend to be his lover for a little bit. After the heat cools down and he no longer has a Wolf looming over his shoulder, he can go back to his old life. What’s a couple years of laying low to a witcher, right? Karadin’s mistake is not realizing that Lambert valued Aiden over any half-assed attempt to get his “humanity” back, and that he trusted and knew Aiden well enough to see through the lie.

Anyway, that right there is the kind of shit the Cat school teaches.

This, of course, makes Cats very hard to trust. And in turn, it makes Cats very suspicious of everyone else. If they can lie and manipulate like that, what’s stopping everyone else from doing it? It’s always possible. They don’t trust humans because humans have the tendency to be pretty shit (re: the attack on Stygga), they don’t trust the people in their school because all of those people know how to lie and manipulate just as easily as they do, and they don’t trust other schools look down on them. The one school they reluctantly get along with are the Vipers, because Vipers don’t look down on them. The others, especially the Wolves up in their mountain home? Oh, they’re up on their high horse, believing their way is the only moral way, banning anyone who doesn’t agree with them from the only safe place witchers have left, so fuck them.

Then you pair this with the emotional instability. They have a hard time keeping their feelings consistent, which means they have a hard time keeping their opinions consistent. So maybe they set up camp somewhere they feel safe and an hour later they’re on edge and uncomfortable, and they can’t imagine how they ever felt safe there, and did they even feel safe there? They can remember they did, but they can’t emotionally connect to that memory now, maybe what they remember was back when they felt safe in a very similar camp, and not this one, they just mistook that memory to be this one. Or they take a contract and they decide, yeah, that’s a fair amount for this, this will be easy, even fun!. And then they do the contract and halfway through they’re like no, this is not fun, how the fuck did I think this would be fun, of course it’s not fun, and by the time they get to collect they’re reward, they’re demanding more but that was not worth the price they originally agreed on, I would never agree to do that for such a low amount.

So essentially, the emotionally instability makes it very easy for them to gaslight themselves.

Can’t trust others. Can’t trust themselves. Can’t trust their memories, or their feelings, or the decisions they make because they never know when all those things might change.

Now let’s throw in paranoia, because the lack of trust is definitely a breeding ground for paranoia. It doesn’t help that people already whisper about and spit at witchers that pass by, but for a Cat on edge, everyone is doing that. That person laughing? Laughing at them. Those people talking? Plotting against them. Make eye contact with someone? What do they want? Is that a weapon? Are they planning something?

And that right there is why so many Cats snap and go insane. It’s not just them lashing out because their emotions got the best of them, that’s would actually be a very small issue compared to this. This is why the rumor is a Cat that’s gone “feral” as to be killed. They work themselves into psychosis and even if you calm them down from the one instance, it’s nearly impossible to fix the way they now view the world.

So enter Aiden.

My headcanon is that he started out like any other Cat from his school. He did a lot of fucked up things because that’s what he was taught and he didn’t realize there was really anything wrong with it. He had no reason to question it, no reason to think his elders had taught him wrong, no reason to focus on anything but making money and staying alive. And then that changed.

Why that changed is flexible, it could be anything, from something small that his ever-changing emotions conflated into something important that he fixated on, to something that is legitimately pretty life changing. I firmly believe that this thing doesn’t have anything to do with Lambert, though. This is before Lambert. Because the important part about Aiden being a good man, is that it’s something he decided to do on his own first. Then later, when he meets Lambert, Lambert helps him, helps him a lot, but the stuff that Aiden had already taught himself is the stuff that Lambert still needs to learn too, so they help each other.

In my headcanon, the thing that sparked this for Aiden was the whole “leave the nest so you can come back next year” thing. He didn’t think much of doing it besides job security of sorts, and there was one town with a nekker problem that he popped through a few years straight to rid them of the nests that kept popping up. The people liked him because he was friendly and he took care of their problem every year. Aiden figured he could milk it until another witcher came along and destroyed the nests completely, but until then, their gratitude earned him a bit more coin than a monster nest usually would. And there was the carpenter’s son, who really liked him. Just a this spunky little kid who wasn’t afraid of a witcher, and who babbled to Aiden about being just like his dad when he got older, and who carved Aiden a little wooden sword one year as a thank you. And then Aiden came back through one year and the kid was gone. One of the first victims of the hatched nekkers that year.

All at once it hit Aiden that his actions and nonactions had consequences. He had no kid babbling at him. The carpenter gave him a smile and a nod, but there was an emptiness to it. He had a mother sobbing into her hands thanking him for getting rid of the monsters that killed her son, unaware that it was his fault for leaving the nest in the first place.

That gets Aiden to not only look at his own actions, but the actions of his school. At what motivates his brothers and sisters. How accountable they are for their actions. How aware they are of the damage it sometimes does. Whether or not they even care. And by looking at that, he sees the downward spiral that so many other Cats take, and he uses his high emotional intelligence and empathy to figure out why that happens, because he doesn’t want it to happen to him. So he has these coping mechanisms. Some are for the strong flashes of emotions that spark up and overwhelm him, but others are things for every day maintenance. He journals a lot. Writes down his circumstances, his feelings towards his circumstances, why he feels that way, the things he’s noticing, he writes down as much as he can so that if his feelings change and he has a hard time grasping how he felt differently before, he can go back and read it. It’s physical proof, right there, that his memories aren’t wrong. He did feel that way. Doesn’t now, but he did, and he can trust that he did because it’s right there. Then he can write down how his feelings have changed, and why they changed, and everything he can think of so he has another record of the situation if he needs to reference it.

It helps a lot, especially when he reads back over everything from months ago. It helps him become more comfortable with just letting himself feel his emotions without getting as frustrated by all the changes, or stressed out at the idea that they will change. Because they always do, and it’s not always bad, he’s been through it before and he’s gotten on pretty well despite it. The fear he’s feeling at that time will change too, the frustration will change, he won’t always feel bad and yes, he’ll eventually stop feeling good but he’ll also always return to feeling good again eventually.

Lambert helps him find some consistency, because out of everything, Lambert’s the one thing Aiden has never changed his mind about. Even when he’s angry and frustrated at Lambert, he still cares so fucking much. And the Wolf is always worth it. It’s this one point of consistency that Aiden doesn’t really need to function but holy fuck does it help.

Meanwhile Lambert will start in about something, be keyed up and ranting while Aiden just calmly hums and watches him pace until Lambert tosses up his hands like, “I don’t even know why this pisses me off so much!”

And Aiden blinks and goes, “Maybe it’s not just this issue that’s pissing you off. Maybe you’re also upset about other things. Does this remind you something similar that upset you, or has anything happened recently that this is adding to?”

And Lambert doesn’t fucking know. How is he supposed to know what else he might be upset about? Lots of things upset him! And this is just like a million other situations, how is he supposed to know if one of those is similar enough to also be upsetting him right now? “Well... Have you tried writing it down?” “Have I tried what now?” “Writing it down. You know. With a quill, in a book. A record of sorts, if you will. Of times you feel upset. So you can go back and read it to help you figure out what might be contributing to how upset you are currently.”

The fact that Aiden says it with all the patience of someone talking to a child makes Lambert immediately dismiss the idea until the next time he gets pissed and he’s like fuck it, whatever, I’m buying a damn journal or whatever. And he does. And he writes down what he’s feeling, and is reluctant to admit that it makes him feel a little bit better, so maybe he does it a few more times, and then something else pisses him off and he writes that down too and then decides to flick back to the other pages and what do you fucking know, it’s kind of like that other time he was pissed. Not exactly, but he reads this one little detail that matches with his current situation that just agitates him to even read it and he’s like huh. I guess I really don’t like it when people say that. Yeah, you know what? I absolutely fucking hate it when people say that. The entire situation pisses me off, sure, but I wouldn’t be nearly as pissed if that guy didn’t say what he did!

Anyway.

I don’t know a good way to end this but yeah there’s more of my thoughts on Aiden and the Cat School. Maybe I’ll write about headcanons regarding how I see school traits matching with the animal the school is based off of, because I see those headcanons often and while I agree with some, I’m picky and I do it differently.

#aiden #lambert #the witcher #lambden #laiden #catch me on the street corner ranting about aiden everyday #like some kind of guy with a sign proclaiming the end of the world #but its just I REALLY LOVE AIDEN #and i yell all of this while ringing a bell

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overdrivels · 4 years

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Moving money in the Overwatch world is somewhat of a subplot in TWtaH. I was reading an article just this morning about how money-laundering is at a standstill because criminals are having a hard time transporting and exchanging their ill-gotten gains in this Covid-19 lockdown. So that got me thinking about Overatch’s currency--credit.

I don’t really think ‘credit’ as a currency is canon in the Overwatch world. I just took the cash shop stuff and shoehorned it into the story because I didn’t want to use specific currencies like ‘bitcoin’ or ‘dogecoin’ or whatever else is out there.

With cryptocurrency, you get exchange goods and services without having to physically interact with any paper or coin money. On an individual level, it just means that a pandemic such as COVID-19 wouldn’t stop people from paying for stuff and no one has to worry about transmitting disease using money as a carrier. On a much larger-scale like money-laundering, the story becomes a little different.

We understand that the original concept behind bitcoin is, at a very high level, a representation of money (”cryptocurrency”) that is traded for goods and services. There is no central governing authority (decentralization), it is mostly anonymous, and very secure (or as secure as your password and wallet ID is anyway) because the code behind it sure is.

There are pros and cons to this. Let’s address the three ones I mentioned:

1) No central governing authority. This means that whatever cryptocurrency we’re talking about isn’t controlled by anyone. No federal government, no international government, nothing. That means no singular entity can lock you out of your money if suddenly let’s say all banks fail or something or government declares some law that suspends withdrawal of money.

On the flip side, that also means there’s no one to regulate the money. For example, 1 bitcoin is worth whatever the fuck the people decide. This leads to instability and the rollercoaster of having bitcoin being worth $10k per bitcoin to suddenly dropping to $6k per bitcoin in a three day period. It is incredibly unstable. This also means there are no laws governing what happens if you get scammed or the like or anything to protect the consumer. If you lose your money, it’s your fault (by and large).

2) It is mostly anonymous. Yes and no. Yes, as in your name and social security number isn’t blatantly associated with your wallet ID. In theory, you could set up like five or six wallets and trade that way to obfuscate (hide) your activities. Then there’s the ‘no’. Similar to how police can triangulate where your cellphone is based on which cellphone tower your phone pinged last, investigators can get a general idea of who you are, and what transactions were made. Bitcoin specifically uses a public ledger to record all trades. If they see $400 come from wallet A to wallet B with the same amount and transaction ID, they may have a match. Then there’s recording IPs and the like. Lots of contextual data that can be used to track someone down if someone was determined enough.

3) It’s mostly secure. This one is the backbone of cryptocurrency. There’s not much to say except it’s based on algorithms. Really, really annoying to crack algorithms. It’s not exactly possible to steal money unless you have access to the person’s wallet and password. However, this goes back to point 1 where if you lost your wallet or had it stolen, there is no central authority that can really help you.

Okay, so why the fuck am I talking about this?

I’d imagine that with the development of omnics and the progression of omnic rights, Overwatch’s world may have evolved to move away from physical money to digital currency and to keep paper money around kind of as a novelty or only used in really remote places. Having digital money means paying people more reliably, paying people faster, less errors, and less hassle.

(I messed up a little in my fic and I’m thinking of retconning it to remove the part about different countries and their currencies still having different exchange rates. Instead, I might just say that they still use the same symbols they always used to indicate money and the numbers are in credits instead.)

Anyway, back to the three points again. I think in the world of Overwatch, if cryptocurrency were to become the norm, they would first get rid of point #1. They would absolutely centralize the fuck out of it. It’s money. What bank, what government, what nation wouldn’t want to have control over money? If it’s global, I’d assume the World Bank would create a branch specifically dealing with cryptocurrency. They issue the regulations, they do the audits, they handle the interest rates, inflation, and everything related to the control of money. Then the banks of each nation would accommodate that. Though, with the obsolesce of physical money and different exchange values, that can imply that currency is no longer really tied to anything. Up until the end of WWI or Great Depression (I forget which), the de facto standard was gold (hence ‘gold standard’). How much physical gold you had is how much wealth your nation had and it was translated into paper money. But then the Great Depression(?) happened and then that became stupid. Now the monetary system is based on 'fiat money’, so I guess it’s not too dissimilar to a full cryptocurrency system. It’s just that there won’t be any bills.

Next is the anonymization. If it becomes centralized, I can’t imagine how it would remain anonymous. Money-laundering and bypass of trade sanctions would be rampant. It’d be an international disaster and undo the many years of regulatory law each nation has put in place. (Look, money is a serious business. Look up regulatory compliance, look up OFAC, look up KYC, and the like. It is a very, very big deal.) So, lack of anonymization would likely take place. However! That doesn’t mean it’s not possible.

Point 3 is an interesting one because it is literally the backbone of cryptocurrency as we know it in 2020. This might actually create a problem. If someone, let’s say a super omnic or the like is about to figure out the algorithms used to generate and validate new cryptocurrency, wouldn’t that mean money is worthless? Whoever can figure this out can essentially make themselves infinite money and then tank the economies of powerful world nations. Because you can’t print physical money anymore, so now you have to spoof digital money. Security (specifically cybersecurity) would be super huge and the tools to protect this crytocurrency generating process would be unworldly. Maybe even Sombra’d have a hard time cracking it.

Though, digital currency does pose one itsy-bitsy problem. The poor. The criminals. The underdeveloped. The current issues plaguing us now and why we don’t see contactless payments everywhere. There could be a billion reasons why a person cannot get a credit card or some form of contactless payment ranging from poor self-control to shitty credit scores as a result of their reckless youth but they know better now, victim of constant identity theft, unable to afford any fees if they were to occur, etc. So, how does cryptocurrency overcome this? It can’t. Not unless restrictions on who can use financial facilities are non-existent such as anyone can open an account regardless of current financial status and the like, or unless it’s something that is automatically given to every person regardless of their current status in life, etc. There’s a ton of restrictions, but we assume Overwatch’s world has already overcome these.

Finances are complicated. Monetary systems are complicated. I’m having a hell of a time picking this stuff apart. There’s pros and cons to all of this stuff. If the cryptocurrency stuff is centralized and people are reliant on it to live, people can easily get locked out of their methods of living. On the flip side, if there’s no central governing body, we’ll see the insane fluctuation of the market that could very well spell the life or death of nations.

In TWtaH, donors are giving to an account managed by the Chef. Chef redistributes this money under the name of the restaurant and under the guise of paying vendors and the like. With the above points in mind, it’ll be a spoiler to talk about it anymore, but a lot of this stuff is relevant.

#drivels drivels #to new followers #good luck because this blog is mostly me toying with real world ideas as applied to overwatch #and i talk about finances fairly often #i just wanted to talk about money and money laundering #welcome to my infodumps #back on my mundane bullshit #fuck there i go again talking about one topic and rabbitholing down something else

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kayteewritessteve · 5 years

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If Only You Knew - 13/19

Description: You arrive home one day to find a wedding invite for two of your best friends from high school. You knew this day was going to come eventually, but even with that said, you weren’t prepared to return home. At least not after 7 years of avoiding Buckhannon, West Virginia. Or rather, avoiding him; your ex-best friend and the secret love of your life. But maybe it was finally time to face your past, to face him, and everything else that happened on that horrible night. Who would have knew that your prom would end up being a total disaster, and the very last night you’d spend in Buckhannon for the next 7 years? you certainly didn’t. That’s for sure.

Catch up HERE.

Word Count: 6,620 ish.

Pairing: Modern!Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Violence. Drinking. Bad and offensive jokes. Possible triggering thoughts, feelings and emotions. Moments of bullying and harsh name calling. Lots of curse words. And a very sloooow burn.

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors and this story, so there’s that.

July 2018 - Present.

“Red. Who saw that coming?” You laugh as you step out of the change room. You are currently with Hilde, Wanda, Nat, and her Aunt Maria trying on bridesmaids dresses.

Wanda and Hilde laugh with you as they exit the change rooms beside yours. They both glance over at you. “I know, right?” Wanda says and then Hilde adds, “Plot twist.”

A loud dramatic sigh comes from behind you all, “please, you all knew this was my colour scheme for the wedding, don’t act surprised.” Nat shakes her head as she walks over to the three of you to check out the dresses, up close and personal.

You, Wanda and Hilde are currently standing in front of a massive wall of mirrors, in an adorable little boutique on Main Street. The shop was entirely too expensive and exclusive for your tastes, or bank account, but it was charming nonetheless. If it wasn’t for Nat covering the cost if your dress, you’d have fainted at the price tags—You actually still might faint at the price tag, even without it actually attacking your savings account and/or credit cards. The thought of spilling anything on the dress gave you anxiety, as this would definitely be the most expensive thing in your wardrobe. Hands down.

Nat motioning for you to spin catches your attention, and you do as instructed. She looks you over with a sharp eye before turning and motioning the same for Hilde, and then Wanda. Once satisfied with the 360’s her face remains unreadable for a few moments, arms crossed over her chest, giving you all a few final glances before a massive smile breaks out across her face. “They actually look fantastic on all of you, and from the looks of it, they shouldn’t need to many alterations.” She looks back and forth between you three, once more, “what do you girls think?”

You hum for a moment, checking yourself out in the mirror before replying, “I think they look good, mine may just need to be taken up a bit.“ You pull up on the fabric at your thighs, trying to figure out where a good end length would be.

Nat’s Aunt Maria, who up until this point, was so engulfed in her phone you weren’t even sure she knew what was going on, gestures for one of the attendants to come take a look at your dress, without so much as breaking her eye contact with the phone in her other hand. An attendant hastily makes her way towards you without so much as a word.

You just stand there, rather awkwardly, as the attendant begins measuring your legs and pining the bottom of the dress. You aren’t used to this sort of treatment, all your clothes just came from normal clothing stores where you found your size, tried them on, then bought them regardless of if they were a little too long or ill fitting in some places. If you liked them, you liked them. But the lengthier ones you’d always vow to take in to be hemmed, however you’d never actually get around to doing it. Your life was just always far too busy. Or at least that’s what you kept telling yourself. That was your excuse for never actually visiting a tailor.

“I don’t think this one will need any alterations,” Hilde pauses and clutches the back of her dress to pull the fabric taut over her stomach, “except maybe just taking in the waist a little.”

"Mine fits almost perfect, I just need the straps shortened slightly,” Wanda says as she messes with the shoulder straps.

Once again Maria flags over attendants to look at the 2 dresses, though this time she did actually glance up from her phone for a moment.

“But I think other then that, they all fit rather nicely,” Maria muses as she looks over the three of you. Guess she was paying more attention then you thought. But then her phone rings loudly throughout the room and she excuses herself to go answer it outside.

You nod to yourself at Maria’s input, Wanda and Hilde hum their agreement as well, all of you lost in looking yourselves over in the mirror. You tightly spin your hair and hold it up to the back of your head, in a mock up do style, trying to see how the dress will look with no hair on your shoulders. “I adore the colour.”

“Me too,” Wanda adds as she swivels from side to side inspecting all the angles she can.

“And to think you all mocked the colour when you first came out,” Nat playfully scoffs.

“I wouldn’t say we ‘mocked’ the colour,” you hum and move your head back and forth as you think over your next words. “More like pointed out the predictability of the dresses being red. Classic Nat. Though, red has always been your colour,” you smile sweetly at her as you blink your lashes quickly, feigning innocence.

“And it always looks exceptional on you,” Hilde adds as she turns to wink at Nat.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” Nat smirks and waves you all off then mumbles, “kiss asses.”

“Well it is a very nice ass,” Wanda shrugs nonchalantly, causing you, Hilde and Nat to burst out laughing. You shake your head and refocus back on the mirror in front of you, as Nat wanders over to speak to the dress consultant.

You look over to other two woman, “does this dress remind you girls of something?” You ask quietly, trying not to interrupt Nat’s conversation.

They furrow their brows as they both turn back to their reflections. You all stand in silence trying to remember why these dresses seem so damn familiar. Then after a few minutes Wanda finally pipes up, “the winter former.”

Your eyes widen, “oh god, you’re right. That’s totally it!” You turn to them again, “this looks just like the dress Nat wore to it.”

“It does not,” Nat says dryly from behind you and you jump slightly. You didn’t even hear her approach you all again, she is like a damn ninja. Always.

“No, it totally does,” Hilde and Wanda say in unison.

Then you add, “the fabric is a little different, yes, but the fit and colour are damn near the same.”

“Not even,” Nat rolls her eyes. “That was a fun night though,” she trails off as a frown takes over her face, and then Wanda quietly finishes the thought for her, “until it wasn’t.”

You cringe slightly at the memory of that night but quickly hide it and plaster a fake smile on your face. “It was a good night, minus the end,” you pause then unconsciously scrunch up your face as you whisper, mainly to your reflection, “and the days following it.”

You can feel their eyes on you, they had all clearly heard you, and one glance around the mirror tells you they did for sure. You see the three of them staring at your back now, looking either concerned, apologetic, or both. You sigh then shake your head, “girls, it’s in the past. No point crying over spilled—punch.” You grimace at your choice in words then step off the platform and head towards the change rooms. Turning back to look over your shoulder and smile, “okay, I’m going to change, as I’m pretty much dying to see your dress, Nat.”

She smiles weakly and nods her head. You know she wants to say more, but leaves it alone. Which you are thankful for, but as you enter the change room, even with trying not to think about that night, your mind is clearly a glutton for punishment. As your thoughts go directly to that memory…

December 2010 - 8 years ago.

You walked into the beautifully decorated ballroom—Yes, ballroom, not gym. The dance was actually being held at Nat’s estate as the school’s gym just wasn’t big enough. No, it wasn’t normal to hold school functions at students homes, but your grad class was larger than normal this year, and there wasn’t really anywhere else that could comfortably fit all the tables for the students in attendance. Let alone allow for a dance floor and a stage.

Plus Nat’s aunt was part of the PTA, and was heavily involved in the school functions, needing to know what was going on around her niece. And what different things were happening at the school. She was a bit of a control freak. So when the issue of needing a location for the dance came up, a few parents offered up their homes for it. Maria being one of them. And after a process of elimination, Nat’s house was chosen just due to its sheer size, in comparison to the other homes volunteered for the party.

Some of the teachers were still used as chaperons even though the dance wasn’t at the school, along with a few of the PTA parents as the group was so large.

Then when the issue of costs for the dance was brought up, Maria had offered to cover all of it, meaning the food and decor, claiming it as her yearly ‘charitable’ donation. So that’s exactly what she did.

But speaking of charitable donations, Steve had awkwardly asked you 2 weeks before the party if you’d want to be his date to the dance. At first you were over the moon, but then you quickly crash landed, as your mind realized he was clearly only asking you because he felt bad for you. And a pity date to the dance was not something you’d even remotely be okay with. No, you’d rather not go at all, then to have to go with Steve, solely because he felt bad that no one else had asked you.

So you had declined his offer, informing him that he should ask whoever he actually wanted to. And that you’d just sit the dance out, if no one else asked you. He had insisted that you were who he wanted to bring, but you weren’t born yesterday. You knew Steve was way out of your league. Hell, everyone at your school knew that. And you’d be damned if you let yourself ruin his night by forcing him to be your date. So regardless of what he said, you told him ‘No’ and to ‘Just drop it, my mind is made up’. So he did, thankfully.

However, three days before the dance, when Nat heard you weren’t planning to attend, thanks to your lack of a real date, she flipped her lid and threatened to damn near disown you if you didn’t go. She even forced you to pick out a dress from her—ridiculously oversized—closet.

Turns out she had to go to formal parties with her aunt often, so she had an insane amount of beautiful—and ridiculously expensive—dresses for you to choose from. So here you were, walking into the ballroom by yourself. Well, that’s a lie. You showed up with all your friends, you just didn’t technically have a date.

Though Steve refused to ask anyone else—regardless of how much you insisted he should—which frustrated the hell out of you. He was always so damn stubborn. The moment you came down Nat’s stairs he had offered you his arm, which you originally shook your head at, and refused to take, but with one stern glare from him you quickly accepted for fear of a ‘brotherly’ scolding.

So even though you had originally turned down his offer, you arrived to the party on his arm. Making your refusal of his offer pointless in the end, which he happily pointed out the second your arm had settled on his. Assface.

But even though you had entered with him, you made sure to keep reminding yourself that he wasn’t actually your date. Even though he had asked you, it had only been out of pity. And he only refused to ask anyone else because he knew you’d end up without a date. Guy was just too damn sweet for his own good, and it drove you batshit crazy.

One glance around the room showed that all eyes were on you entering on Steve's arm, the instant whispering made your skin crawl. This was exactly what you were trying to avoid by turning down his offer. The look of initial shock on everyone's faces that then quickly faded into understanding. Clearly they all figured it was just a pity thing as well. Just as you had. You quickly turned your eyes down to the floor and removed your arm from his, taking a large step to the side. In a desperate attempt to distance yourself from him.

“Y/N?” You heard his concerned voice from above you, and you quickly glanced up at him, noticing the deep frown on his face as he looked down at you.

You forced the best fake, carefree smile you could, but judging by his unchangeable expression he saw right through it. “I’m uh, I’m gonna go find my spot,” you gestured with a thumb over your shoulder.

He nodded slowly, “okay, I’ll come with you.”

“No, that’s okay, really,” you waved his offer off then glanced passed him. Seeing most of the football team currently standing off to the side, obviously trying to get their Captains attention. If their staring and flailing arms were any indication of that. But that was just a guess, on your part. You pointed at them and Steve looked in their direction. “Looks like your needed elsewhere,” you chuckled.

He turned back to you with a sigh, “yeah, looks like it. I’ll go see what they want then come find you.”

It was your turn to sigh now, “you don’t have to babysit me all night, Steve. I want you to enjoy yourself, not be stuck with,” you gestured to your whole form, “the loner crew all night.”

He shook his head, “there was so much wrong with everything you just said. First off,” he glared at you, “it’s not babysitting. You’re my best friend, Y/N, therefore I clearly enjoy being around you, more than anyone else. Which leads into the ‘enjoying myself’ topic. I’d honestly have more fun with you, and your sarcasm, all night then anyone else.” He chuckled and you rolled your eyes, “and lastly, if I remember correctly, I’m also a member of this so called ‘loner crew’. Maybe even more so then you are, as I did, in fact, ask someone but she savagely rejected my offer.” He clutched at his chest like he’d just been stabbed in the heart.

“You’re so dramatic,” you shook your head then poked him in the chest lightly, though sternly. “And you chose to not ask anyone else, so that doesn’t count as being in the ‘loner crew’.”

He smirked at you, “and you chose to reject my offer. So,” he shrugged.

“Only because it was a pity offer,” you scuffed.

“It wasn’t a pity offer!” He huffed and narrowed his eyes at you.

“Okay. Okay. Fine,” you waved a dismissive hand around. “Let’s not rehash this whole debate again.” You grabbed his shoulders and attempted to turn him, which failed miserably. Damn him and his giant ways! “Okay, seriously, go see your teammates before one of them either flails too hard and pulls a muscle, or knocks over some poor unsuspecting student. Think of the students, Steve!” You feigned horror and outrage, causing Steve to chuckle and shake his head.

“You make some very valid points. I’ll go wrangle them in then come find you.” He pointed a finger at you just as you were about to open your mouth in protest, “zip it, Y/L/N. We already discussed this.”

You crossed your arms then pouted at him. “Fine,” you grumbled then spun on your heels and walked away.

You’d found your spot quickly, noting that Nat had sat your whole group of friends at the same table, off in a corner. Thank god for that. With the room as dim as it was, and being in the corner, both you and the table were basically concealed from everyone else.

So as you sat there, alone, embracing your stag status, you peered around the room at all your classmates. People watching was always a favourite pastime of yours, seeing how others interacted, and handled different social settings and personalities, was interesting to you. Trying to figure out if someone was relaxed or anxious based off their body language. Some you could read like a book, others, not so much.

Your eyes landed on Nat and Bucky on the dance floor, standing close and swaying to the music. A smile grew on your face as you watched them for a moment. They were relationship goals to the fullest, and you hoped one day you’d have even a semblance of what they have. Even just a fraction of it would make you happy. As anything was better than nothing at all.

Then your eyes continued on to find Sam and Hilde, standing off to the side of the ballroom, just watching the room. They were laughing loudly and talking animatedly about something, which you couldn’t actually hear, but you could assume it was competitive in nature. They were forever challenging each other, betting on random things, and messing with each other, relentlessly. They were always entertaining to just watch, either up close or from afar. Both being far too competitive for their own good. You knew they were up to something, and the second you saw them shake each others hands, that suspicion was confirmed. They were clearly agreeing on a bet as we speak. About what? You had no clue. But you knew it was probably something both ridiculous and hilarious.

You shook your head and laughed as your eyes continued to scan the room. Finally landing on Wanda and Clint at the food tables, piling their plates high with a little—a lot, in Clint’s case—of everything. Them being not only together, but also at the food tables, didn’t surprise you one bit.

They were like two peas in a pod, and you’d learned early on, that they had become basically inseparable, ever since Pietro’s death. Clint was the main reason Wanda had made it through the loss. He had stayed by her side the entire time, every step of the way, and beyond. He could never replace Pietro, they both knew that, but he helped fill the void Pietro’s death had left behind in Wanda's heart. And oddly enough they almost took on a twin like bond, they could actually have these full on conversations with just their eyes—which was the weirdest thing to witness, no joke. But aside from that, they had a bunch in common. Like how they both damn near ate their weight in food, though they never gained a freaking pound. How they could eat so much and both stay so damn skinny was beyond you.

You laughed to yourself as you watched Clint try something off his plate—that he clearly didn’t like—before he quickly looked around then discarded the offending food back on to its original plater. Acting like he’d never even touched it in the first place. You shook your head then were startled as you felt a tap on your shoulder.

Quickly turning you came face to face with a hand, presented out to you, your eyes drifted up from the hand to see Ezekiel smiling down at you. You didn’t know him that well, besides that he was Kiara—Madi’s best friend’s—twin brother, part of the football team, and from all accounts—that you’d heard at least—he was interested in men, but just hadn’t come out yet. High school students sucked, that was a fact. So you totally understood him waiting till after high school to come out.

“Care for a dance?” He asked sweetly. Had it been anyone else you would have declined, but something in his eyes told you he may have needed this as well. And he was a sweetheart, nothing like his sister, or her friends. You’d interacted with him a few times in passing and could just tell he didn’t have a malicious bone in his body. Plus Steve always spoke highly of him.

So you nodded and slipped your hand into his then stood up, “I’d like that.”

He walked towards the floor and awkwardly put his hands on your waist, keeping an appropriate distance from you. Your arms went around his neck then you both started to dance. “So, having a good time?” You asked.

“I guess,” he shrugged. “Are you?”

“Yeah. I mean, as good of a time as I can have, what with coming to the dance alone.”

He furrowed his brows, “wait, didn’t you come with Steve?”

You chuckled, though it was slightly bitter. “No,” you shook your head, “we arrived together, yes, but he isn’t actually my date.”

“But I thought he asked you?” He wondered out loud.

“Ah, yeah, he did,” you peered around then caught a glimpse of Steve off to the side with his football buddies, all of them having a lively discussion about something. But almost as if he could feel your eyes on him, he glanced over, and before your eyes locked with his you quickly looked back up at Ezekiel, “but how did you know that?”

His eyes widened momentarily, “oh, I duno. Must have just heard it in passing, I guess,” he shrugged again.

Weird. But you’d let it slide. “Who did you end up coming with?” You asked.

“No one,” he smiled weakly and you returned the gesture.

“Aren’t we just a pair,” you shook your head then turned a little more serious. “This might be over stepping, but I just want you to know that I’m sorry high school students suck. And I truly hope you find your happiness one day, Zeke,” you smiled, and this time it was genuine.

He locked eyes with you, “I dunno what you mean,” he trailed off as he took in your knowing look then sighed. “How did you find out?” He asked defeatedly.

“Just a lucky guess,” you shrugged. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. But I mean it, I hope you get everything you want and deserve in life.”

He smiled then looked passed you for a split second before smiling and looking back down at you. “Thank you, Y/N. I hope the same for you as well,” he winked then released you and stepped away before you could respond. Standing in the middle of the dance floor alone was awkward, you should have just kept your mouth shut. Clearly you had offended him, since he had just up and ditched you in the middle of the floor.

But just as you were about to walk off back to your table, you felt a tap on your shoulder once again, you spun around to see your favourite set of baby blues. “Dance with me?” He asked as he offered you his hand. A brilliant smile adorning his handsome face.

“How could I say no to that?” You laughed then took his hand. His hold on you was drastically different from Zeke’s. Yes, his hands were in pretty much the same spot, but he held you much closer. Damn near flush to him. Which, like always, had your mind swimming.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he smirked.

“How’s your night been so far? You managed to save the innocent students from flailing limbs, I see.”

He chuckled and shook his head, “oh yes, the innocent students are safe for now.” Then he looked down at you and you both stared at each other for a moment, before he softly said, “and it’s much better now.” He released one arm from around you to lift it up and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His eyes following the motion of it. “Did I mention at all how beautiful you look tonight?” He asked quietly, as his eyes focused back on yours.

You felt the blush forming on your cheeks as you looked down to avoid his intense gaze. Moments like this made pretending your crush didn’t exists damn near impossible. And you knew that if you continued to stare up at him, you’d have another awkward moment like at the lake. One where your heart would win out against your brain, and you’d foolishly attempt another stupid move on him. “You hadn’t.”

“Clearly I never put my thoughts to words then. That’s my bad. Because you look absolutely stunning tonight, Y/N.”

You peeked up at him and the sincerity on his face made you heat up even more. How this boy—who are we kidding, he was basically a man—could be so charming and sweet made your head hurt. He was the total package, and whoever ended up holding his heart one day was going to be one very lucky woman. You were already jealous of her. And how truly blessed she was going to be with him. “Thank you. You look pretty handsome yourself,” you smirked up at him.

“We make a good pair,” he smiled.

Your heart fluttered at the words. If only he meant ‘pair’ in the way you wished it was. You nodded, “that we do.”

The song started to change and you used that to your advantage. You needed to get a little distance from him, before you messed up and either said something stupid or made another unwanted advance. You let go of his neck, then took a step back, feeling his hands slowly slip from around you. “I’m going to get some punch.”

“Ah,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “I’ll join you,” he nodded.

You both walked silently towards the drinks table, it wasn’t exactly awkward, but wasn’t really comfortable either. Then just before you reached the drinks table you noticed him pause beside you, and glanced over your shoulder to see Penelope, Madi’s other best friend, whispering something to him. He looked over at you for a second and the look on his face told you she had asked him for a dance. Before he could even open his mouth you nodded and gestured for him to go. He furrowed his brows for a moment before looking down and shaking his head, then looking back up at Penelope, clearly accepting her offer to dance, as he offered her his hand then they walked off.

You signed deeply, your heart dropping a little, then continued on to the drinks table. You weren’t allowed to be upset by him dancing with other girls. He wasn’t yours. And he wasn’t your date. You had no right to be upset. You shook your head then started to pour yourself a glass of punch, turning around once you had and sipping it as you glanced out around the room. Trying to relocate all your friends once again, which wasn’t hard as you peered over at your table, and saw six shadows sitting there.

You finished off your glass then turned to refill it, but before you could even lift the punch ladle, you felt two hands plant on your back and shove you. You were so caught off guard that you stumbled forward and reached out to try to prevent yourself from falling.

However, one of your hands landed on the rim of the punch bowl and it tipped towards you, dumping all the punch all over you and the floor. You managed to not take out the whole table, but your dress was ruined and the punch was no more.

You spun around and instantly had a few lights flash in your face, then heard that disgusting sound. Madeleine’s laugh. You saw her and Kiara standing a few feet away, phones in hand, laughing hysterically at you. And just like that, Penelope’s invite to dance with Steve made way more sense. You narrowed your eyes at Madeleine then looked down at your now soaked and stained dress.

“Punch is for drinking, Y/N. Not wearing.” Madeleine laughed and gestured to you, “though, oddly enough, it does make you look better in that dress. Or maybe it’s just because it draws the eye away from your face to somewhere less atrocious.”

You went to snap back at her, but realized everyone around you was now staring and laughing. You looked around at all the faces, everyone finding your humiliation hilarious, and that alone made your eyes start to sting as the tears formed. You were mortified.

You locked eyes with Steve from across the room and he quickly released—damn near shoved—Penelope away from him and headed towards you. You shook your head at him, then reached down to hike up the bottom of your now super heavy, soaked dress, then turned on your heel and headed for the doors.

You ran as fast as you could till you made it out of the ballroom, then pushed yourself even more as you ran to head outside, you didn’t want anyone to see you like this. Especially not Steve. You passed a few of the teachers as you ran out front, not paying any attention to them, or their confused stares and shouts. You’d run home if you had to, screw being here.

You finally made it outside and down the front steps. Stopping to catch your breath. “Miss Y/L/N?”

You spun around to see Mr. Banner coming towards you. He was your school guidance counselor and had helped you through quite a few hurdles during your time at Shield High. “Is everything alright?” He asked, then paused as he took in your stained and ruined dress then frowned. “What happened?”

You muffled a sob behind your hand and shook your head, “it doesn’t matter now.”

He stepped cautiously towards you, “I don’t believe that. If it truly didn’t matter then you wouldn’t be this upset. Is there anything I can do to help?”

He was a sweet man, inside and out. He never made you feel uncomfortable or insignificant. And he was always there with an open door and an open ear. You’d gone to him many times over the school year, and he would just listen and give advice where it was needed. He never judged or downplayed your feelings or issues. But right now you just didn’t feel like talking. You knew you should have just stayed home. You broke down and started to cry even harder.

“Oh, Y/N,” he said softly, “do you need a hug? I know I’m not your dad, but my kids tell me I give pretty good hugs,” he shrugged and chuckled. Clearly trying to lighten the mood.

You nodded weakly, you’d have killed for a hug from your dad right now, but you’d settle for a separate dad hug in this case. Then he wrapped you up in a giant bear hug. Which surprisingly felt just like your dad’s. He patted the top off your back comfortingly then after a minute he pulled away. “It’s going to be okay. It gets better, I promise,” he smiled. “Would you like me to call your dad to come get you?” He asked.

You were just about to nod your reply when Steve came frantically running out the front doors. “Y/N!?” He yelled just before his eyes landed on you and Mr. Banner. He paused then headed towards you both.

Mr Banner turned back to you, “would you like me to stay or?”

You looked to him then realized he still wasn’t sure what had actually happened to you, and was attempting to make sure you weren’t put in anymore awkward or aggressive situations tonight. “It’s okay, Mr. Banner. I’ll get Steve to call my dad,” you wiped the tears from your eyes.

“You’re sure?” He asked.

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Okay, well myself and the other teachers are just inside, come find one of us if you need anything.” Then he waited for you to acknowledge what he had said, which you did with a nod, before he turned and headed back into the house. Leaving just yourself and Steve outside, the latter now stopped a few feet away from you.

“Y/N?” He said quietly as he slowly stepped towards you.

You nodded just as a gust of wind blew passed you and a chill ran down your spin. You crossed your arms over your chest, just now realizing how cold it was outside. You’d left your jacket upstairs in Nat’s room, along with all your other belongings. Crap.

He reached out to you but you shook your head, and took a deep breath, “Steve, I’m soaked. I’ll ruin your suit.”

“I could care less about my suit,” he said as he took a hold of your forearms and pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and kissing the top of your head. “Come on, let’s get you inside before you get sick.”

“I don’t want to go back inside,” you mumbled into his chest.

He tightened his arms around you then nodded, “okay, then where would you like to go?”

Peeking up at him you asked through a sniffle, “cheeseburgers?”

He smiled down at you, “of course. Let me just get Nat to bring us your stuff.”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and texted Nat, receiving a damn near instant response. Clearly they had all witnessed what had happened, and Steve coming to find you, so they were obviously waiting on word from him. He got the valet to get his jeep, and once it arrived he started it up, then helped you into the passenger seat. Taking care to ensure that all of you dress made it in the car, before he leaned over and cranked the heat to warm you up while you waited.

Nat, Wanda and Hilde came out at that point, and he shut your door, then went over to meet them at the bottom of the stairs. You could hear the slight murmurs of them talking through the closed passenger window. And saw as Nat handed over your belongings and then they all looked passed him to you. Both Nat and Wanda just smiled weakly at you, which you returned, then your eyes shifted to Hilde, who looked like she wanted to punch something. And stat. But she quickly corrected it and nodded her head to you, a motion you also returned. Then they each hugged Steve, waved at you and turned to head back inside.

After a moment, Steve climbed into the drivers seat and handed you your bag, filled with your clothes and belongings.

You both headed to your favourite 24/7 dinner, Huddle House, where you changed out of your dress in the bathroom, then you both just hung out and ate food for a while.

After your late night burger adventure, Steve drove you home and dropped you off. Promising to return once your dad went to bed. Which he did. You both stayed up late and chatted for hours before you couldn’t stay awake any longer and Steve left to head home. Giving you a giant hug before he did.

The night hadn’t gone even remotely to plan, but Steve had helped you get over the embarrassment, and assured you thay no one would even remember in a few days. It had calmed you down and lifted your spirits that night. However, the second you reached your locker, your first morning back at school, you realized just how wrong he was. People would remember, as there was photo evidence to remind them.

Plastered all over your locker, and most of the halls, were printed off and blown up pictures of you, covered in punch, with a range of expressions on your face. You ripped all the photos off your locker but felt the sting of tears, once again, when you glanced around and saw everyone laughing and pointing at you.

Before you could even react you felt someone's hands on your shoulder turning you around and then tucked you into a warm hug against a giant chest. It registered instantly that it was Steve. And then his reassuring whispers in your ear confirmed that thought. And you just clung to him as you watched Nat, Bucky and Hilde yell at the kids around you to ‘piss off,’ ‘grow up,’ and ‘get a life’. While Sam, Wanda and Clint ripped all the photos down that they could find.

Steve walked you to class and then basically hovered over you all day, and the days following when more photos kept being put up all over the school.

After a few days everyone got bored and the photos stopped appearing. But even without the reminders of that night, it stuck in your mind. It’d be years before you finally let go of that memory.

At least until it resurfaced while you were trying on bridesmaids dresses for Nat’s wedding. Speaking of which..

Present - July 2018

“You okay in there?” You hear Wanda ask from outside your change room.

“Ah, yup. Yeah,” you say back as you finish getting dressed in your normal clothes. “Be out in a second.”

Once you leave the change room you take a seat in between Wanda and Hilde, on a small couch in the middle of the room. Wanda informs you that Nat has gone to get her dress on, and that she’ll be out any minute.

The three of you sit and chat until you see the curtains being pulled back on the larger change room off to the side. Then your breath instantly catches in your throat at the sight of Nat in her pure white gown. It has to be thee most beautiful dress you’ve ever seen.

It is stunning, and suits Nat so well. Not to mention it fits her like a damn glove. You feel the tears well up in your eyes, as she steps up onto the podium to looks at herself in the mirror.

“What do you girls think?” She asks as she turns to look at you three, arms stretched out.

“Oh, Nat,” you say in awe, “you’re breathtaking. Bucky is going to have a damn heart attack when he sees you.”

“Yeah?” She asks as she starts to tear up as well. “You think he’ll like it?”

“Are you kidding?” Hilde chokes out with a chuckle as she wipes a few tears off her cheeks, “he’s going to love it.”

“And not just because of the dress, but because you are the one wearing it,” Wanda adds.

Nat nods quickly, and you can see she is attempting to hold back her own tears now. “You three need to stop crying, you’re making me cry!” She scolds but you can tell she is joking.

All three of you stand up and walk over to her, embracing her in a group hug as you all giggle through your tears.

“So you girls approve?” She finally asks after a moment.

“Uh duh,” Hilde laughs.

“100 percent,” Wanda nods.

“Fuck yeah, we approve,” you smile at her as you all continued to hug for a moment, before finally pulling away.

Nat turns, wiping her tears away and looks into the floor length mirror for a moment. Then she abruptly spins to face you three, and her eyes are wide, “holy shit. I’m actually getting married!”

You all giggle at the nervous, shocked look on her face, then nod and all say in unison, “yeah you are.”

“And to Bucky, of all people,” you say as you make of huge show of playfully cringing in disgust.

That makes Nat burst out laughing, along with Hilde and Wanda. Effectively killing her nerves on the spot. Which is the exact thing you were aiming to do.

She calms herself down and then gives you a thankful smile, to which you just nod in a ‘it’s my pleasure’ sort of way. You glance around at your three best girl friends, and realize just how much you’d missed them. And just how much you want them all to be happy, and in your life every day. The thought of having to leave them again in a few short days is not sitting well with you. At all.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

@hopefulmoonobject @caps-lockdown @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @tessvillegas @boxofteenageideas @wangdeasang @giggleberts @casuallydarktiger @theonelittleone @agentbadbitch @ratwrites @starrystellars @bandsandanimefreak @rockyroadthepastryarchy @lovvliies @cuffski @icesoccerer @alwaysright4 @lilsthethrills @imdiegohargreeves @zombiepotterfour @mu-mu-rs @ledandan1244 @straightforwardly @badassbeckettswan @denzmallows @xremember-me-notx @gwynethjodie @lollipopdomination @capstopavenger @jemimah-b99 @rcvenqers @justkending

#au fanfiction #fanfiction #long post #long read #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers au #modern!steve rogers x reader #modern!steve #modern!steve rogers #modern au #if only you knew #chapter 13 #no super powers here #alternate universe

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itslmdee · 4 years

Text

Flash Fiction: Be Careful What You Wish For

Summary: When Joris discovers a genie in a lamp he begins making wishes, but without fully thinking through the consequences.

Joris had been given the battered cardboard box by a friend, who'd filled it with things found in a shed he was cleaning out for his elderly neighbour.

"Load of old junk," his friend said, "but I know who much junk you sell on Ebay."

It was true that Joris ran a successful side business by finding and selling collectables and unusual items and he'd accepted the box. So he opened the box and began to catalogue the contents.

There were some vinyl albums, one broken, the others possibly okay to be sold on. There were some brass and porcelain ornaments, which he quickly sorted into worth selling online, worth a carboot stall, or just charity donations.

There were some old newspapers, yellowed, and smelling of damp. A cracked saucer. A tatty stamp album, with a few stamps worth salvaging.

There were a couple of pictures, one of which had a frame worth selling, the other worth selling framed.

At the bottom of the box there was a coffee pot and an old lamp, both copper. Joris rubbed at the coffee pot with one sleeve, thinking it might be worth something when cleaned up. He picked up the lamp - one of those ones you saw in pantomimes masquerading as Aladdin's lamp.

For fun he rubbed the lamp, polishing one side of it.

Joris fell on the floor of his garage when the genie appeared.

The genie was a shapeless mass of smoke at first, and for a moment Joris thought he'd made the lamp catch fire with the friction from the rubbing. But as he watched the smoke coalesced, flickering through a few humanoid images until it settled on a pale, bluish hued male figure with a black ponytail on the top of an otherwise bald head.

"Greetings," the genie boomed. "You have released me from the lamp and chosen my form."

Well it did look a lot like what he'd expected a genie to look like, thanks to Disney movies. Joris frowned and got to his feet. He passed his hand through the genie. "Hologram?" Surely this was some kind of a trick.

The genie eyed him sternly. "I am the genie of the lamp. You have three wishes. Choose wisely."

Joris laughed. "Okay. One million pounds, right now."

"You have to preface the request with 'I wish'," the genie said.

"I wish for one million pounds," Joris said.

"As you command."

On the floor next to Joris appeared a pallet of money. He blinked. He examined one of the banknotes from the top pile. It looked genuine.

This could not be real. But if it was, Joris now wondered how he'd explain this to the bank. Already his mind was racing. He'd have to take the cash in small amounts to deposit to his account and spend some in different shops, though £50 notes were hard to shift. He realised he hadn't much thought about the practicalities. He shoved the note into his pocket.

"Second wish?" the genie asked.

Joris shook his head. "I need to think."

He locked up the garage and went inside. He poured himself a beer and drank half of it. He looked at the note again and then picked up the phone.

"Hey," Joris said. "That box you gave me..."

"Find anything good?"

"Couple of albums, nice picture frame," Joris said casually. "A coffee pot and a copper oil lamp."

"Great," his friend said. "You said copper usually sells well, probably better than that stamp album anyway."

No hint of him knowing anything about the lamp or any trick, and he wasn't a man known for practical jokes. So Joris thanked him and hung up. He drove to the bank and deposited the note into his account without incident.

Joris went back into the garage the next day, when he'd had time to think. He'd misused that first wish and he needed to do better with his second. Genies were said to be tricky and if you weren't clear on what you wanted, could screw you over. He was lucky that first pile of money hadn't been reported stolen and the police weren't at the door.

The genie appeared, flowing out of the lamp at his approach.

"I want to be rich," Joris said. "I wish that no matter how much I spend or withdraw that my bank account is always in credit and that all of the money is always seen to be legal and above board."

That was the best he'd come up with; no more huge amounts that would be difficult to explain away, or potential for legal issues, just a constant stream of cash He intended to work his way up, by regular withdrawals of decent amounts of cash, and opening another savings account, to having enough capital to buy a huge house somewhere with a very expensive view.

"As you command." The genie nodded.

"That's it?"

"That is it. Third and final wish?"

"I need to think," Joris said. He went to the nearest ATM and drew out five hundred pounds. This should have left him with just ten pounds left in the bank, but the amount in his account had not changed when he checked. He withdrew another five hundred and his bank balance remained the same, a respectable £510.

Joris spent the rest of the day thinking of what he could wish for. Fame? He didn't like the idea of paparazzi following him around. A beautiful girlfriend? With the money he had, it might be better to find a girl by himself; a genie provided girl might turn out to be a cheating thief if Joris didn't account for every aspect of her personality.

Maybe something altruistic. Joris had a vague idea that the way to avoid getting cursed by a genie was to wish for something for others.

"For my third wish," Joris said grandly next day, "I wish to save the human race from all illnesses, all accidents, from all harm and risk."

He was proud of himself for such humanitarianism. No child would die for lack of clean drinking water, no one would get hurt at work, no one would get sick.

"As you command," the genie said and there was a wicked gleam in his eyes.

Joris frowned, a cold chill running through him. He went outside—and the world was still. Birds chirped in the trees but cars had stopped, their drivers frozen. The postman was standing, stock still, by the gate, a letter in one hand.

With a sick feeling, Joris ran inside. He switched on the 24 hour news channel but the newscaster was staring blankly at the screen.

Joris ran back to the garage. "What have you done?" he screamed.

The genie gave an evil laugh. "What you wished for. No human will ever face any risk ever again. They will not get sick or be harmed or die. They will just...exist. Frozen as they are. Forever."

Joris fell to his knees. He'd destroyed the human race. He was the only person left who was truly living, alone but for the genie. "What about me?"

"You made the wish. You get to live with it," the genie said. "And best of all, this time, unlike other foolish wishes I've granted, there's no one else left to force me to undo my magic."

Joris felt tears of remorse run down his face as the genie laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

#flash fiction #my fiction #writing #fantasy #safetyism #writingwednesday #dypstopia #short story

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showdepremiosclub · 4 years

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An Appeal to American Workers

Concerning the social and economic status of the United States of America... "...man seems to be in a worse state even than the brutes..." -- Samuel von Pufendorf, "On the Duty of Man and Citizen," Book 1, Chapter 3 Introduction For so long, writers of all ages have made their appeals to kings, to queens, to archbishops, saints and popes. When trying to advance their own interests, men of letters would correspond with dukes and rulers of provinces. By contacting those in power, they were confident that their ideals would be expressed to the people in the most succinct and powerful way. Yet, it has been the trend of Anarchists, regardless of era, to make their appeal not to the rulers, but to the ruled -- not to the presidents or the prime ministers to beg for their mercy, but to the workers of the world's nations, and command them to action. Since we are advocates of a certain sense of justice, since we are the prophets of social doom and resurrection, we believe that the cause of the condition of the world is the ruling class and its minions, their state-sanctioned slavery of Capitalism. And, furthermore, we believe that to plead for mercy from those who casually mock the things that stir us, to plead for mercy would be to offer a begging hand to our executioner. For these reasons and more, Anarchists and Freethinkers make their appeals not to kings or queens, not to "sovereign entities" and their mechanized armies, but to the people themselves, that they might liberate themselves and others. It is in such an attitude that I present this piece... An Appeal to the American Workers. Why Revolt? First, when I am speaking to my fellow brethren, my comrade citizens in the United States of America, I want to say this. At first sight of the Communist and Socialist manifestos, their ideologies, the speeches made by their affiliated parties, when I heard these things for the first time, I was in complete disagreement. The language used by these demagogues of Communism was burdened by economic vocabulary. In some works that would be classified as liberal, I've seen the word "aggregate" used five times in a single sentence. Through these bizarre concepts, these overly technical definitions of a so-called sociological science, these "decline in the wage conditions of proletariat" and "bourgeoise distribution of wealth," through all of these is where we hear the call for Communism. I first want to tell my readership that I am familiar with these speeches, these pamphlets, these books, and I am familiar with the awkward and almost inhuman way that they have dealt with the economic question. I have seen men of Socialism do nothing but reprint manifestos and sloganeer, as though their drone-like actions were about to bring about the greatest state of peace, justice, and equity for mankind ever known. While these socio-economic appeals of Communist and Socialist parties are made to the public, they are often ignored; in a way, they are regarded solely as "preaching to the choir." They use words and phrases that the people are generally unfamiliar with. Their politics are relatively dreary; whenever a new party pops up, its statement of faith seems to be followed a pattern completely uniform with the last party. This is not an attack on those who are unfamiliar with the phrases and vocabulary of Communist theory. Rather, it is an attack on those who are ridiculously stuck with such phrases. To other Communist and Socialist comrades, those who feel that society would be greatly benefited through collective property, I ask this: that these awkward and almost erroneous phrases are abandoned now. Not because they are no longer understood by the common people, but because they were never understood by the common people. People must not be intellectuals that they might be revolutionaries. With that said, I want to say that I wholly and truly believe in the philosophy of Communism. I am an advocate of the words of Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, in matters of economics and sociology. In many ways, I divert from the philosophy that they preached. I am also a follower of the words of Mikhail Bakunin, Emma Goldman, and Alexander Berkman -- the late, forgotten Anarchists of yesteryear, whom openly opposed the arguments of Marxian economics. Again, I diverge from their arguments in many ways. I am a follower of the words of Thomas Paine, when speaks of doing justice as man's only duty; I am a follower of the words of Carl Sagan, when his words oppose the claims of religious fanatics; I am a follower of the words of Jean Jacques Rousseau when his words are of the corruptability and weakness of a Republican government -- I am the humble follower of Mark Twain, Margaret Sanger, Voltaire, Charles Darwin, and Ralph Waldo Emerson. But, in so many cases, I find myself in disagreement. Perhaps it would help my Communist brethren to practice a higher degree of skepticism when reading the works of Marxian economists and other political philosophers. A Revolution -- But Against What? If we are to take an objective and honest look at the situation in the United States today, we will find ourselves looking face to face with some very grim and ugly facts. Many people are losing their jobs to outsourcing. Corporate scandals are becoming a daily occurence. People have lost complete faith in this system that seems to perpetuate unemployment, poverty, and misery. This is not solely my view, but it is the view of the people. More than half of the country does not vote. There can be only one reason for this: people feel that both political parties and their candidates are incapable of redressing the ailments of this dying nation. Underneath the sloganeering of "rugged individualist" philosophers, underneath phrases like "quarterly corporate gains" and "official company accounting procedures," underneath other phrases that serve to aleniate us from the subject, underneath it all, we become more and more dissatisfied with this country. We are a modern country living in a modern world! Yet, when we open our eyes, we still find so much poverty, so much misery, so much homelessness. We find ourselves face to face with an economic system that nobody has tried to improve upon -- an economic system that is essentially the root of these social ills. In so many years, with such great strides in all studies, we feel that men have inherently left one field untouched, that is, the field that deals with how to create a social and economic infrastructure, so as to remove these undesirable elements. We are not moved by self-interest or snobby intellectualism; we are moved by the interest of all of mankind -- it is our interest to eliminate the suffering of the innocent. In a 1997 study by the U.S. Bureau of Statistics, for every dollar an employee earned, he made almost six dollars for his employer. [U.S. Census Bureau, 1997 Economic Census, Comparative Statistics, Core Business Stastitics Series, EC97X-C52, issued June 2000.] One dollar of that six earned income goes towards the other expenses, such as replenishing the shelves and electricity. [Business Expenses, 1997 Economic Census, Company Statistic Series, 1997, Issued December 2000, EC97CS-8, US CENSUS BUREAU, U.S. Department of Commerce, Economics and Statistics Administration, U.S. CENSUS BUREAU.] That means, for every two dollars a Capitalist spends, he is given seven dollars back. The investor makes money because he has money, and for no other reason. He is maintained at a situation in life where more money will do him not much better. And while he is surrounded in elegance, lavishness, and wealth, there are millions of children starving to death in our nation. In 1980, the top 1% of the United States owned more than 25% of the nation's wealth, while the bottom 20% do not even own 1% of all the wealth. [U.S. Treasury, Internal Revenue Service. Quoted from Contemporary Macroeconomics, by Milton H. Spencer, Worth Publishers, Inc., Fourth Edition, page 45.] If these facts alone are not enough to disturb anyone of good conscience, then I do not think anything is capable of disturbing them. I could continue to parade statistics around. I could delve deeper and deeper in to the archives of economic thinktanks, pulling out numbers and equations used to determine the unemployment rate's fluctuation in response to the rate of interest of banks. I could pull up a historical timeline, showing the general decrease of wages in contrast to the general increase of profits. There are at least a million articles that discuss the economic question that I have yet to read; each of them from authors of their own particular background, whether Free-Market Capitalists or Marxian Communists. All of these writers have contributed what discoveries they've made to the intellectual community. They offer their words in defense of the trends or patterns they discover in economic behavior. Some of them are motivated by political causes, whether it's the establishment of Statist Communism or the abolishment of Communist political parties in third world nations. Many of them are motivated by their desire for prestige, to be recognized by the community as men and women of thought -- they figure, that if they can make their words more boring, dull, and formulaic than other authors, they will be recognized as men and women of genius by some university community. Some authors have no interest, except to explore the sociological field, and find out what it is that really moves the economy, to discover what gears and what cogs in society effect what other gears. Yes, I could pull out plenty of statistics and many arguments that these economists have utilized in demonstrating their opinions. But, in this appeal to American workers, I must say what I think: I believe that the average man and woman have enough sense and enough experience to make the decision that the status quo is unsatisfactory. Consider a radical reorganization of the social structure. For this reorganization to have any merit to it, we must start with the problems we observe. So, then, let's consider the most obvious problems. There are men and women whose job it is to hold signs on street corners, many times dressed in costumes, trying to entice people to purchase goods and services. They make very little money, but there are men and women in corporate firms whose task is essentially the same. Marketing and Sales executives are making six-digit salaries by devising new and different methods for convincing the public to want their goods. Their job basically is to convince people that they want and need things that their own wit and intellect wouldn't ever tell them to purchase. On top of these executives, there are the people of the media, the makers of commercials, billboards, radio advertisements, newspaper advertisements, graphic design for corporate logos; some people spend years doing market analysis, so that they can uncover trends in the consumer choices of citizens and workers. At the top, there are executives and corporate officials, making millions of dollars a year, and at their disposal is an army of Walmart greeters, sales associates, clerks, manager assistants, and other professionals -- all of them solely exist to entice people to buy things that they otherwise wouldn't have wanted in the first place. From this point, we find that the purpose of their existence is to subvert, control, and manipulate the general will of the people. Their meaning to life is inimical to that of a free conscience. Those people who work in low-wage jobs, spending most of their lives taking orders from supervisors and being criticized for "not having company" spirit -- I cannot blame them. I cannot blame them at all. If being a Walmart greeter was the only job available, if it was the only thing that could help someone support their family or drug habit or pay rent, then I cannot blame them. But to those corporate executives and company officers, these CEOs who control billions of dollars of the world economy, they are responsible for this situation. They have built up a culture of want, consumption, and poverty. Someone looking at it from an objective viewpoint will say that these people are simply useless, they simply do not contribute to society in any positive way, but that is light view of the situation. Not only do sales and marketing associates fail to contribute to society in any meaningful way, but they are parasites; they are the thieves of intellectual liberty. Their fat paychecks are only provided for by the society which they have leached themselves on to. It is not by noble pursuits and honesty that they make their living; it is by avarice and dishonesty. This is among the first and most notable dilemmas of the Capitalist economy: the advertisement industry. Whether we are looking at corporate executives, or people dressed in chicken suits holding signs on the sidewalk, I think I am making a fair judgment in saying this: these people do not contribute to society in any meaningful or productive way. We see, then, the first common and obvious fault of the Capitalist economy. What is the solution? It's a rather simple and obvious one. Those people who are members of this inhuman industry are to be put to productive work. What does that entail, specifically? Well, those employees who were stripped of their old professions would be put to work in meaningful jobs. In particular, they would start to contribute labor to the economy so as to produce goods and services. That means jobs in agriculture, manufacturing, construction, or transportation and distribution. I consider these fields of the economy to be productive because they contribute in satisfying the interests of consumers. Workers on an assembly line, for instance, are creating products that will be consumed: television sets to be watched, clothing to be worn, computers for hobbyists, CDs and DVDs as entertaining media, tools to help other workers accomplish their jobs, etc., etc.. Members of the agricultural economy are invaluable for one obvious reason: they create the food that feeds all of us. Construction workers produce the buildings that people live and work in; they are simply a different type of manufacturing worker. Transportation and distribution is essential, in getting the products from the site they were produced to the site they will be used at. All of these fields are necessary to a healthy and free society. I do not want my opinion on this matter to be misunderstood or misinterpreted. My contention is not that it should be made a crime for men and women to use their own intellect to change the opinions of others. I think that the law should reflect a general anti-censorship ethic: whether in matters of politics or economics or religion or philosophy, or any field of study that has been subject to witch-hunts and being burned alive, I think that all should have intellectual liberty. You should have the right to private discourse, to let the thoughts in your mind mix and meld with memories and experiences, to be the ultimate judge and jury of your own opinion; it is the right to decide that you enjoy something as much as it is the right to say that you dislike something. You should also always have the right to publish the results of your private discourse, to speak with other members of the community in a way that reflects your thoughts, to try and convert people to your opinion on anything, whether art and culture or politics and society. The Statists, Fascists, and others of the anti-Democratic tribe will spend hours upon hours, lamenting the tragedies that have occured and will occur again if the people have the right to intellectual freedom. Whatever tragedies have occured from liberty of thought, they shrink to almost nothing, when one thinks of the tragedies that have occured from the suppression of liberty of thought. We criticize the advertisement industry solely for the sake that it is counter-productive, it works against the general interest and will of all men and women of good character. It invades communities, turning them in to dry husks, destitute of any real sense of culture and destitute of any real sense of purpose. It has turned art into a perversity, exploiting painters and sculptors, taking their passion and molding it into "Buy One, Get One Free!" There is no excuse, no pardon, that could ever be made for this group. However, when we look at the employment of the distribution economy, we find ourselves looking at the same faults that plagued the advertisement industry. Distribution centers, whether they're stores or malls or shopping centers, all of them seem to operate on the same principles that the advertisement industry acts upon. Such an enormous effort is placed on making the products or services look more appealing, so that the consumer is convinced to purchase such items. It also seems as though these distribution centers are having less and less of specific products. Many popular chain stores are a combination of department store and grocery. It seems that almost every store is selling "impulse items" near the counter, including candy and cheap mini-magazines. These impulse items are in every store, whether it's an office supplies store, a furniture store, or even something as simple as a gift card store. Many grocery stores are also selling cooked and prepared food, ready to eat. In their never-ending quest to boost profits and gain stockholder confidence, stores are expanding the line of products that they sell, not to make their selection complete, but to have more income from sales. Distribution centers in an ideal society would not consist in these elegant settings, with employees who act as greeters or make the store look visually appealing, nor would artists be exploited to create artwork for product packaging. The individuals who fill these positions would be transferred to industry sectors where they can act as productive agents of society. In examining the American and European economy structures, we have here seen the greatest reforms and changes we would enact. That is, the greatest reforms and changes we would enact, if the economy was built to serve the interests of mankind, and not built to serve the interests of private corporations and exploiters of labor. With the abolishment of so many professions, one might think that a massive unemployment might take place. This is not necessarily so. Those who would lose their jobs would be relocated to meaningful parts of the economy. That would mean, that society would produce more goods, at a higher quality, with less hours. Essentially, yearly wages would be doubled and work time would be halved. The happiness and satisfaction with life that men and women have would be increased; that is the basic goal of all this discussion and research. Ultimately, in this fair and ideal economy, workers would be paid not according to suggestions and manual aids from the corporate office. They would be paid according to the value that they create. Instead of the minimum wage which finds itself the standard of many industrial, farming, and service jobs, workers would be paid upwards of $20 to $30 an hour, a number that certainly can be afforded by the economy. The primary reason why such workers are not being paid this right now is remarkably simple: those who are the legal owners of capital (mines, farms, stores, factories) want as much money from their business ventures as possible. That means paying as low as possible so that there is more profit. It is for these reasons, that all members of the Capitalist class (those who own the productive parts of society) are regarded as the thieves of labor, the enemies of the working class, the exploiters of the proletariat, among other phrases used by Leftist groups. Among the most bitter ironies that history has taught us, it is this: workers in the year 1600 worked only ten hours a day to secure their needs. When industrial societies arrose, and factories allowed workers to produce ten times as much as when they worked without factories, people started to work 12 to 18 hours a day, sometimes as much as 20 hours a day. The new economic conditions that came with the industrial revolution allowed the Capitalist class to force people to work for so long, since the members of this class were also the ones who controlled food distribution in society. And today, when man's productive power is at least several hundred times that of the 1600 worker, the average workday is 8 hours -- and that alone was a struggle that cost the lives of many workers, gunned down by thugs hired by corporate entities, just to obtain. It is for these reasons, these observations and experiences in what has always felt like a dying world, that I am a Communist and a Socialist. For the motivation of a better world for myself, my fellow human kin of all nations, and the children of the coming generation, that I hold true to these beliefs. Subversive Tactics for Revolutionaries and Reformers There are countless ways in which a willing person can contribute to the revolution of social and economic relations in our world. If a person becomes interested in social change and political reform, then they only have an entire history of revolution to look to for advice. The existence of today's conservative, for example, can only be excused for those who were considered radical by society's standards several hundred years ago. It was once common to think that a king's absolute authority of life and death over every person was just, that the rule of government can be exerted without the authority of the people, that the general will of the population is inconsequential, that the ruling class needs no excuse. These and a thousand more foul lies were once considered public wisdom by the philosophers of the past age. And before these things were believed, even more cruel and bitter philosophies were preached as religion. Before this, there was no conception of justice, no idea of right or wrong. When men thought of morality, they simply thought of what the men who spoke for god said; when men thought of fairness, they simply thought of what the men of government said. It is true, that as we look back in history, we find eclipses in timelines, where a people were defiant, revolutionary, and bold -- where men and women dared to live by their own means, not by the guidelines of a king or priest. But such societies were small and lasted very shortly. Yet, all of this evidence is clear to all who are interested in changing today's social, economic, and political affairs. If you have this interest, then know this. There is reason to hope that things will change. And this hope is fueled by our understanding of history, our own philosophy, and of how today's society operates. The most popular and well-known of the methods of reform is that of the union. People of a particular trade or business unite together so that they can collectively demand better conditions, through practices like a strike or boycott. The interest of the common labor union is antithetical to every interest of the Capitalist class. The labor union demands higher wages, fewer working hours, better working conditions, fair treatment of workers. These are the things that drive up the costs of the businesses. A corporation, which the sole interest of gaining power and wealth, looks to union activity as the greatest offense; it is a small group of people who have combined their power together, so that they might force oppressive groups to change their behavior. The method of the union is the most peaceful method of social change. The greatest threat its members ever pose to society is the threat to stop working, to start boycotting, and to start picketting. Their goals are not achieved through violence, but by a very gandhi-like style. The effective goals of the union are simply the improvement of the working class's conditions. It has always sought economic reorganization, demanding that nobody can be fired except with very good reason (job security) and demanding that the workers are paid fairly according to their labor. While it is true that these are good and valid causes of any standard labor union, it shouldn't be forgotten that a union can be used as a political tool. Consider a city council that has just been bribed by corporations to remove the living wage law (a law that provides around $15 per hour minimum wage). The working class of the city will be greatly hurt. Their living conditions will start to fall, and in a short while, they will feel that their condition has reached their original position. They would either see the impending blow to their movement coming, and do nothing, lay still, take the suffering the state thinks they deserve. Or, all labor unions would combine together, for an enormous general strike. It must be understood, that products being produced, distributed, and consumed, is the government sanctioned form of slavery. For everything bought or sold, money is given to taxes, to support the state. For every hour you work, money is given to federal taxes, to support the state. For everything owned, money is given as property taxes, to support the state. If everyone, from every union in the city, from the services unions, the administrator unions, the manufacturing unions, the transportation unions, if every union in the city were to go out on strike at the same time, they would inflict massive, irreparable damage to the government. They could use their power as unions to force the government to change its decision, otherwise the entire infrastructure would collapse under this pressure. This is also a worthwhile tactic if one union is having difficulty gaining better conditions for itself, and the unions its federated with could go on strike. They go on strike, to tell their employers, to tell the other CEOs, to listen to their unions and accept some collective bargaining agreement, so that business can proceed as usual and the Capitalist system can continue. It is unfortunate that today's unions fail to see the necessity of a federation of unions and of advocating for political causes that directly effect them. Unionizing labor today is legal. That is something they need to realize. True, the burden of poverty is over their heads; they must work so that they can feed themselves. It is always the habit of the weaker victim to be less assertive, less bold in their attacks of their enemy. But we must unite in order that we can oppose our enemies of Capitalism. We must unite, and we must be strong, in that we can overcome our enemies. And also, while I said it was a largely peaceful effort at social change, there is no doubt that the Capitalists have done to keep it anything but that. Investors hired armed police squads to subdue picketters. The social organization of our society has turned us on ourselves. We are killing and murdering each other for crumbs. All the while, an army of police officers are guarding corporate headquarters all across the United States, while people are suffering from poverty and want. Unemployment is high and the wages are low. We have a very good reason for revolting at the state of things. Another popular effort to gain control of the situation, and create a worker's paradise is to form a political party, and to try and gain as many positions in government as possible during elections. However, it has been this method that has received the most criticisms from the general public. Efforts of the state to achieve a truly Socialist effort has had dismal results: the U.S.S.R., the Dictatorship of Cuba, the murder by the allegedly communist governments of Vietnam and Korea. And then, the efforts of minor socialist parties and international communist tendencies, these efforts have accomplished so little. True, there are some European countries that have started to elect Socialist parties, and to enact Socialist legislation. There are campaigns to reduce the average work day, to give better benefits to workers, to protect the consumers from harmful products, and to pay the workers more. But most Communists agree that they want the economy to be in the control of the people; so too, must the political structure of a society be in the control of the people. For this reason, most Communist and Socialist reformers have taken to the method of control via unions; to employ it to obtain political ends on behalf of the working class is to engage in a practice of Anarchy known as Anarcho-Syndicalism. There is also a popular case against voting based on Anarchist principles. Anarchists often argue that if we refuse to vote, then the whole justification of consent with the government falls apart, and the system will collapse. I can hardly see any justification for this. Less than a third of the population votes anyway. If more than two thirds of a nation is not enough force to gain superiority, then at what point do we become effective? Many Anarchists maintain this position: that to refuse to vote is to make a revolutionary step. I hear their arguments, and I don't quite find the logic of their evidence. I do not see how refusing to vote is doing anything to stop the oppressors from continuing to oppress us. If they find at least one thing sacred, or at least semi-sacred, and they are willing to respect the will of the people in electing a representative of their interests, then why should we shut off this method of social and political change? Why should we villify it, destroy it, and inhibit all of its functions, when it is the only method we are legally allowed and encouraged to change the system? Consider this one scenario. There is an island with twenty people on it. There is a Democratic vote on whether this person is to be hung for his crimes or not. Among those who decide not to vote, they argue, "I do not think the collective should ever be able to vote on the life or death of a commune member, so, I shall not vote, and demonstrate my opinion this way," yet, if the majority votes for the killing, then it's the inaction of the Anarchist that played a great role in the murder. For this reason, and reasons like this, we are apt to believe that we can use voting to change things, whether we are voting on a measure or a proposal, or for a person who seems to be the lesser of two evils (despite the fact that evil is evil). Perhaps some Anarchists will consider by ideals much less Anarchist and much less Libertarian if I support voting to a certain extent. Perhaps they will say that I am a reformer, but not a revolutionary, that I am reformist Libertarian, or some other such terms. I have only called myself an Anarchist because my ideals have been in unison with those of passed history, including Emma Goldman, Mikhail Bakunin, and Peter Kropotkin. I disagreed with them on points, of course, but the basic philosophy remains in tact: elimination of the state, communal ownership of all property, mutual organization of social units, abolishing poverty and all drug prohibition, among so many other efforts to create a better, more lasting peace between men on earth. If this basic philosophy cannot be defined as "Anarchism," then I can see of no other word to fit my arguments. Among many projects of the Anarchists and Communist, there is that project known as a worker colony. A worker colony is a collection of workers, who live and work together in close quarters. They are all assigned housing units and jobs, most of these places catering to industrial or manufacturing jobs. Then they work four to six hours a day, and are given leisure and a suitable pay for the rest of their day. Sir Robert Owen was a philanthropist businessman of the early eighteen hundreds, and created such a society. Instead of the fourteen hour workday, these workers were only required to work eight hours a day. They were given good, high quality food at inexpensive prices and they were given free medical care. The leader of the collective, Robert Owen, was capable of turning a profit with this business venture. In fact, many of these communities were started up by many investors, however, they soon became unfashionable at the sight of rising cost and competitive markets. Many Anarchists of the new era have suggested the creations of such communities, so that people are capable of living as workers and consumers in a society where their happiness is the main end of all productivity. I am not aware of any situation where Anarchists and Communists combined their finances in order to buy land and create such a community, but it is definitely a valuable idea to be considered, even if it's just on a small scale. Finally, there is the most popular and accepted method of spreading Anarchism and bringing about the revolution. That method is propaganda. This can take numerous forms. It can be everything from marches and protests to picketing to leafletting. Personally, I find that leafletting is the most effective way of swaying public opinion against their enemies. A piece of paper briefly outlining our ideals will be something that a person approaches on their own, it is not an argument or a debate, and it allows the person to ingest the ideas at their own speed. It is almost a re-education process. People have to unlearn that social organization should be based upon fear and misery, and have tol earn that all social relationships should be cooperative and fair. Plus, with more people educated and of Anarchist, Marxian, Communist, Socialist, or Libertarian opinions, there will be more people sympathetic to the cause of the unions. There will be fewer people who will work as scabs at a striking business or shop at stores where unions are boycotting. More people will vote for Socialist parties, environmental safe propositions, and Socialist measures. More cities and regions are to obtain a healthy Anarchist and Socialist population. The more people in a city, the more that can contribute to a massive project like a worker colony. The more who are convinced of the Anarchist position, the more who are likely to bring that issue to the eyes of the public, in spray painting across corporate property or marching in line at a protest. With all of these methods, I can hardly see these Anarchists and Communists doing nothing to bring about change. A Free Society: The Appeal for Anarchism I can no doubt expect that many of these ideals are enormously progressive in the eyes of today's American worker. He looks to these principles, these ideas of workers owning the productive forces in society, these revolutionary fundamentals of the workers being paid the wealth they produce, he looks to these, and he might as well be looking in to the future by thousands of the years. He is impressed, but also intimidated, and almost scared of the change. What it would take to change society, he argues, would involve moments of poverty and misery, such great reorganization of the social order, that it must be impossible. And, even if it were possible, it would be necessary that some government should guide it, that some revolutionary vanguard party is necessary to the construction of a new society. Without a large collection of highly armed, highly volatile, highly greedy men, nothing that we seek to change would get changed. It is necessary, in the eyes of these men trained to be hopeless, it is necessary that a government always exist, in order that society can have civil discourse, while the cruel element of mankind is subdued by the police forces and the military barracks. I allude to one incident I uncovered in Portland, Oregon. Fortunately, it is an extremely Leftist town, full of as many Anarchists, Communists, and Socialists, as there are Liberals and Democrats. This has allowed some interesting experiments to come up, since so many people of the same political beliefs are collected together in this one city, and can work together on massive projects. There is one particular cafe which advertises itself as "Worker Owned." It is called Back to Back. In reality, it is owned by the I.W.W., or the Industrial Workers of the World (AKA: "Wobblies"). It just so happens, though, that the people who work there are not the owners, and beyond that, they are 100% volunteers. The only payment they receive is in tips. This is not the realization of the worker's paradise, it is the realization of his worst nightmare. In their vanguardist efforts, the money that is raised with sales should go to two places, in the eyes of the IWW: To other Capitalists, to fund their exploitation of the working class, by helping them sell their products, and to bureaucrats, who can sit around for hours a day arguing with each other over wealth distribution, convinced that they are the essential piece to Proletarian revolution. But, I do not know all the arguments of the IWW. Perhaps, they will use the same language of Corporate America. "In recreating the world, we feel that it is necessary that workers are paid nothing, that they are to live humbly off of charity, while all the wealth in the world is concentrated in the hands of a very small number." We will heard their arguments about cost production, about competition, about inflation. They will speak on the same terms that McDonald's or Walmart would speak, in justifying cost reduction and retail increases. We are Anarchists and Communists. We believe that the Capitalist system must go if there is to be any justice in the economic or social sense; and, above and beyond that, we believe this change in the socio-economic sphere of the world can best be done by our own efforts. So many great tragedies and miseries in the world have been caused by people doing exactly as they are told, by people who act without thought, becoming the slaves to some inhuman entity. We do not need new rulers or more party politics; we need the people to rule for themselves, for each man to be his own master and his own slave. My appeal here, then, for the American people, is an appeal for a Communist economy, as much as it is an appeal for an Anarchist society. The efforts of previous liberation groups has been in a vanguard party, in a despotic government coupled with all capital as public property, these are the greatest of dictatorships. The essential argument behind each argument, that of Anarchism and that of Communism, is the same. The idea of people deserving the wealth they create, and the idea of people living in a democratic society are similar in that both are a demonstration of the common will and desire of the people. They are both based on improving the lot of the majority of people. Besides, Communism cannot be properly carried out unless the most Democratic of conditions exist in society. Look at the Leninist revolution. It was followed and supported by a wide range of social reformers, but the conclusion was the over empowerment of the government, to the point of dictatorship. Lenin held elections once. He lost, and then used his military power to dispose of the winning political candidate. A reign of terror, of secret police, of torture chambers, of a government subverting the natural will of the people to rule themselves. The same can be said of the Castro-led revolution in Cuba. At first, it was a hopeful situation for those who wanted a dramatic change in the social order of the world. But, it was not long before the revolutionaries who sided with Castro quickly turned against him when they found out he chose himself as dictator. Castro violated the will of the people, while parading around like he was its greatest demonstration. So did Lenin. In both of these international cases, it was a revolutionary party that refused to let the people rule themselves. If we are to be successful, we must pay respect to our Socialist brothers, and understand the faults that they made. We must create an Anarchist society, if the Communist economy is ever to be justly employed. I hope that the philosophy, the politics, the economics, and the social views displayed in this essay were enlightening or even heart-warming; I hope I have helped many other workers realize that they are not alone in their opposition of their two greatest enemies, the Capitalists and the government. The first strips him of all his deserved wealth, the second strip him of all freedoms. It is the poverty of slavery, the chains of misery. I hope that the suggested methods for achieving our new world prove helpful, and that the workers of the world are bold and strong enough to try these tactics with me. By uniting, by organizing, we are becoming stronger than the leader of our enemies. Stay strong, and stay linked together.

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rabvairaubui1977-blog · 5 years

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One thing I noticed watching the film was the very typical marriage right after meeting. The prince and Donkey Skin have met exactly once, kind of, when the prince spotted her in her cabin looking like a princess. Cinderella married the prince right after he figured out she fit the slipper. When it comes to day to day safety, the biggest makeup threat is mascara. Mascara wands can poke the eye and scratch the cornea, which then could allow bacteria to seep into the eye. And if you don't properly remove your mascara before bed time, then it could flake and get into the eye. Most people recommend TNG it seems. So Im likely going to at least start there and then Voyager but Ill keep an eye out for Deep Space 9 too. Even though funny enough, Im the type of person who prefers story arcs instead of story of the week type formats. Think it more so the ingredients and time though? Find something that works well with your skin and stick with it. My pores got really orange peely for a minute there right after I started, but it gone away since then. And my pore aren baby perfect, they never will be, but after a lifetime of acne and bad skin, at 30 I love my skin and hardly wear anything more than a bb cream or powder over my sunscreen now.. Most depressed people don want you to feel sorry for them. Most of them are actually quite self conscious about their depression. They just want to be happy, like other people. I have a funny story about my third. I breast fed her till she was 2 1/2. Not exclusively obviously but 고성출장샵 for the last 6 month just at night. Now, the main issue here is you being pressured to give her money that's in your name. I understand that you live together and have a relationship to consider, but it's literally robbery to "physically force" someone to take money from their own bank account and give it to another person, which is what you've claimed she's done. If she wants the money she should have the cheques made out to herself. He does some tricks too, like sit and high five. 고성출장샵 He definitely a dog without the time commitment of raising a dog. I would recommend a cat for you as well!. We can begin to accept ourselves as we are, without believing that we need to be different. When we do this, we can begin to discover our inherent beauty, our unique radiance that makes us shine brilliantly. This can only be accessed, however, when we are willing to step out of the cultural paradigm that says we are not good enough unless we are a size two.. The town went into mourning. The mine, mills, and saloons closed down as a sign of respect for Julia. On the day of her funeral, thousands formed a procession of honor behind her black plumed, glass walled hearse. On any given day, I could absolutely crush the break even point and certainly make it a good deal. The thing is, the daily break even point implies you are doing that every day. I cruise to do new things in new places which means I pick cruises that have only a few sea days and I get off the ship and do excursions at every opportunity. I'll share my story with something similar there was what started as a whitehead on the middle of my nose. I thought glycolic acid or topicals can fix it but it remained and got harder. After 2 months of getting annoyed with it bc it wouldn't go away, I went to get a facial by an esthetician who couldn't remove it, it was too hard to be extracted.

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allwoodjacee95 · 3 years

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borrow from life insurance to pay off debt

BEST ANSWER: Try this site where you can compare quotes from different companies :insurefastfinder.top

borrow from life insurance to pay off debt

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Credit life insurance and taxes are the same in the US as it is in most other countries. Some people wonder if you can buy a policy through work if you have to take a medical exam. In the US, if you plan to work on a job, you want to look to the government to ensure that all you have to pay is the standard of living you are likely currently living. This means you would not have the option to opt for a company plan, but you will still need to get your own policy or have a medical check-up within your policy to determine the benefits to you. These two points matter to consider if you are seeking life insurance against your current job. For this reason, there are plenty of life insurance options to choose from for this type of job. You will also want to take note that many of the companies listed here offer life insurance as an option at certain times which gives you the ability to choose the policies you wish, which can save you a ton of stress in the long run..

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requiemfortheindifferent · 3 years

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OK so like. This is long and ranty so yeah.

Ugh.

I’m not digging my life situation right now. Like the past fourish years have been... well lets say severely depressing and overly disappointing. We'll, the last year has been better then the previous three but yeah.

In any case, I am having a time with someone in my life. I get I frustrate them but they frustrate me too. Only I can’t say shit about it to them because they get really defensive and emotional and it really sucks. Like they are better sometimes as in they admit to doing something, but they follow it up with ‘but your letting it affect you negatively and that’s a you problem’. Like they don’t apologize with the intent to be better (completely stop what they did or do it less), they just imply that I have to get over whatever issue I have with them. And sometimes they just focus on what I’m doing wrong in their eyes and refuse to see things from my side/compromise on something.

Honestly they are so controlling. It used to be that if I didn’t think I’d have their approval I wouldn’t do what I wanted because I didn’t want to hurt them/suffer their wrath.

And like, just now they came in to say something and their tone was hurt/angry. They said they yelled really loud to get my attention to which my reply was that I had my earphones in. They looked... overly disappointed and sounded irritated the rest of the conversation. IT was short so yay but at the same time their emotions seem too high. So this person is going through a moment. LIke I know they’ve been diagnosed with a mental illness so I know why they do something. The fact they do this isn’t what’s annoying; it’s that they constantly refuse to do anything about it. LIke they may apologize for yelling or being overly mean but it happens repeatedly because they don’t work on it. But I’ve tried to gently gently offer they might need counseling to work on things or medication and they totally were not for that option at all.

I am not financially independent from this person because of reasons and like it’s very frustrating to me that I’ve been under their roof for as long as I have. I get I had shit I was going through and it was really hard for me. They were there and they tried to be supportive and yeah I suppose they were. But I feel like they also controlled me into doing whatever they thought was the best option despite what my thoughts were.

Like. I have an appointment coming up that I am excited/nervous for. But I get really judgmental vibes coming from this person about how I want to handle something related to this appointment. Like they were annoyed with how I want to do things and told me I should look into other options and then listed ways they think I should handle my thing. Like what the fuck.

I am an adult. I know I suffer from mental illness and I have a spending problem and shit. But that doesn’t mean it’s ok for this person to try to control me like I’m some dumb kid. Not that kids are dumb, kids are just figuring things out and whatever. Anyway, I’m sick of this person treating me the way they do. Like I know I can’t really talk because I’m having a hard time getting my shit together but at least I’m trying, you know?

So I guess this is a venting post.

Another thing that pisses me off. Like if I forget to do chores for a while and then start doing them intermittently this person has this angry temper tantrum about how no one helps them out. And like the other people that live here, at least one of them constantly helps with dishes and making the food. I know I can be better about this and it’s really hard for me to just stand there as this person mocks and berates everyone for not helping out more. Two of us have a full time job, right now I’m only part time. Like I’m not saying this as an excuse but an explanation: I forget most days about chores. I just do. I’m ok with laundry but like I honestly forget about everything else unless I hear this person angrily washing dishes or stomping around while vacuuming. There’s been a couple times where I print out a chore chart with everyones name on it and I get shot down by everyone then a few weeks later the angry temperamental one suggests it and suddenly everyone else considers it. It’s really fucking annoying.

Also this temperamental person has tried to like, talk to me about this... by saying that they think their friend is implying that they (temperamental one) is causing problems and issues in the family. DIng ding ding! But if I ever said anything that agreed with this sentiment this person would fly off the hook. Like they bring it up every 3-6mo and I can tell by the way they watch me their reading my facial expressions to see if they can sus anything out. Like as much as I would very much like to have an honest conversation I also enjoy living in a place with a roof over my head.

They also bring up constantly the relationship they have with their mother and how they want it to be better. Like it’s maddening. And they go on and on about how if they were different it would be better and that by not giving into their mothers demands that they are offending God but giving into their mothers demands would make them lose their household like jesus fucking christ. It goes around in circles and I have told them to stop. They try to keep the conversation going no matter what I try to change the conversation too. I can plainly say theres nothing more for us to talk about and then they keep going on. I have to say talk about it with your therapist, or just leave the room. And even if I leave the room, they try to bring it up later or they come in to talk some more. I’ve tried to tell them to make peace because their mom will never change into the mother they hope them to be regardless of whether they give into their mother or not. But no. They keep bringing this up.

And like, they got me a gym membership for my birthday? Like told me the gift was a surprise drove me to the gym and more or less made me walk in. They could see I was uncomfortable about it and that made them nervous but they did not relent. They said a few times I didn’t have to do it but I needed to exercise one way or another and the gym has so many options. So they gave me a choice then subtly made it clear I did not in fact have one. Like I’m used to sucking up to appease them and that’s what I did. I did not want a gym membership. I knew this and they could tell. But every time I hesitated they would talk for me and at that point I realized. I’m trapped. And so that was how I got a gym membership before the covid. I mentioned this to a friend and they were like ok red flag and I tried to play it cool but I think they know something ain’t right in this dynamic. Then the person brought it up saying they gave me a choice and that I could have said no. Bitch I tried?

So yeah. I am just so very frustrated.

And I know this person is frustrated because like they keep freaking out on me. I get it, I am constantly forgetting to do chores and like I’m fat which is unacceptable in their eyes. Like they say it’s to get up and get moving which is a small part of it to them but they push it more the heavier I get so like I see what their priority is. I get absorbed into my own shenanigans which usually involves me reading or writing or getting distracted by the internet. Like yes, this is frustrating and I’m not trying to defend these actions when I open my mouth to defend myself. What I’m trying to say I guess is that yeah I fuck up and I fuck up a lot but it’s not intentional like you make it out to be? But I can’t even get a word in because it’s just so very important for them to yell and scream at me.

And their pissed because I’m not the same religion as them? They hate that I was practicing witchcraft. I stopped out of respect to them and their house though honestly I do acquire witchy things every now and then but like. Yeah. It was my own choice that I made and honestly? Freeing and just nice. But they are so controlling they can’t stand it. Like one of the tenets of my living here was that I go to church with them. Guess what? I can be a pagan witch and go to church. Not that I have, I know what the endgame is. Bully me into Christianization. Honestly not gunna happen. Sometimes I consider practicing in their house but that is not hospitable so as much I would I will not.

SO yeah just not fun and this arrangement is terrible. But the only other option was homelessness and even though I wish I’d had taken that route for the freedom I likely would have ended up in a worse situation then I was, even though the situation was honestly... yeah I can’t go into it cuz reasons.

Like I’m not saying my situation is absolutely unliveable but I think I overstayed any welcome I had the moment I agreed to move in. And even then, there was no agreement made until after I had all my stuff here so at that point, I was already here and there was no where else to go. Whatever the person said was what had to be agreed to without any negotiation because they would only turn them down.

And like. They constantly criticize my habit of buying things, especially things I don’t need. I hate that I do this and honestly hate myself for it but I do it regardless. And it irks me that this person not only criticizes me for it but does it too, like I got this habit from them? But I can’t say anything, I’ve tried. Also this person will turn around and take me on shopping trips and if I try not to buy things they’ll enable me or try to? I’ve gotten better about it recently but it’s hard. Like I do not have the money to spend on extra stuff and I know this. My bank account routinely goes under a few days before pay day. Recently I’ve been better and while I am happy about this turn around I still get anxious and depressed. I have no savings and no way to have a place of my own because guess what? This bitch used credit cards to fuel her shopping addiction and would you believe it but that shit catches up with you whether you have a stable job situation or not.

And like, rent here. They’ve demanded it when I work but then constantly ‘forgot’ to write receipts. I went out and bought a book of receipts and then they took them, since they would receive the money they said it made sense for them to keep it. Ok. Whenever I gave them money it was a battle just to get the damn receipt and that has not changed. Oh and everytime I try to settle on a number that I owe them because neither of us actually kept track they just blow it off until they want to talk about it. When I get back to them with what I think the number is they sound really nervous and it just seems whatever number I give them is never enough. I get that the nervousness could be about how much they helped me out but it seems more like they feel I owe them more then I do.

So yeah.

Lately I’ve been better ish. Not what this person wants I guess but in any case, I hope to make it out of this place soon. I know this would break the person but I want out because I know I can be the best possible version of myself outside their house. Because as long as I’m here I feel like I’m their prisoner in a sense. I don’t know. This situation is probably mutually toxic and I know everyone will be glad for me to get the hell out, mostly me.

#rant

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bienready2122 · 4 years

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Romancing San Francisco [Chapter #2: Master Yamaguchi Teaches]

Part Two

Ace Yamaguchi Teaches

[Buck turns into a Friend]

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The climate was warm in the mid year of l968, a breeze from the inlet leaked through the city, and the Turtles, the Doors and the Beatles music were being played all over the place, alongside "Elvis' Comeback". Everybody dressed like Sonny and Cher, or the Momma's and the Papa's it appeared everybody except me that is; because of the fact that I enjoyed the manner in which everybody dressed, I wound up still very moderate.

The trees along a significant number of the boulevards particularly Dolores Avenue were polished green. I got some bread, and white spread-on cheddar, carried it to the dojo and put it in the cooler, I loved it, something new that I got here in San Francisco. Alongside a corner store that would make any sort of sandwich you needed mơ thấy rùa đánh con gì On account of the adjustment in climate from Minnesota to San Francisco, my dietary patterns were likewise changing, - to lighter nourishments that is, and less meats; - increasingly Chinese nourishments additionally; I truly couldn't have cared less for Japanese nourishments. Somebody acquired crude snake, or so it appeared with white rice in it, and offered it as a treat for us at the dojo one night, it more likely than not been Goesi, - yet that is a supposition, I can't recollect. In spite of the fact that I generally appeared to have a decent craving, after a chomp or two of the treat, I lost it for the remainder of the night; yet as I was stating, with all the strolling, and now working at Lilli Ann, the dress structuring outfit, and doing my Karate ordinary, my hunger was vivacious.

It was extraordinary to walk the night away along the sea front with my karate companions, taking a gander at the numerous flames along the Pacific Coast. The glow of the flames moved right to tactile faculties, smelling the consumed wood on the flames, each of the few of us, watching the gleaming of the flares, its flashes attempting to climb to the space rock belt; - as the shinning moon skimmed over the water right to the edge of the coast, as though it had its requests stop in that spot. I felt it was a decent time to be alive. I cherished the water; - the hints of the immense waves hit the banks of the coast. The white froth splattering about. My days appeared to be perpetual, loaded up with to such an extent

back in St. Paul, Minnesota, the Mississippi runs directly through the city, right down to St. Louis, and onto New Orleans; and you got it, right to the Gulf of Mexico. As a child I'd make light of along its saves money with my companion Mike Rosette. We were a remarkable group. We'd run in and out the caverns along the bluffs that paralleled the banks of the Mississippi; some of the time avoiding the alcoholics sleeping wheezing ceaselessly the morning or as once in a while it would be, the evening. In any case, this was unique, this was not the Mighty Mississippi, Mark Twain's safe house, as he so wanted to expound on, as I wanted to stroll close to as a child, - yet this was the Gigantic Pacific Ocean, what I caught wind of, read about and now was before. It was difficult for me to change in accordance with seeing such a lot of water. Much alone, not see a conclusion to it. It blew my mind, such as remaining before the Empire State Building gazing upward, or looking down the Grand Canyon. I needed to approach it just to state I contacted it, got wet; as though it was hallowed waters. Yet, at that point anybody from Minnesota would have done likewise I'm certain, or lied that they didn't, - from the start in any case.

Additionally, along the Mississippi, you'd consider rodents to be enormous as tycoons, or little pooches, here you seen white jellyfish, shaded shells, among a couple of things. To every other person it was entirely expected, to me I was enchanted. In St. Paul, they quit permitting fires in '63, such a large number of bogus cautions, and the fire organization, or stations became ill of running for each fire around. We used to consume our junk in 50-gallon drums in those days. After around six to nine months, grandpa would have me and my sibling tip it over and void it out into an uncovered opening, and cover it. Be that as it may, those days were gone to; alongside consuming the fall leaves, I loved that additionally, the fall-smell of the leaves, the sparkles, much the same as these flames. Thus observing the flames brought back recollections, despite the fact that the relationship was very unique, they had their similitudes.

"Buck," I stated, asking "The police don't take care of these individuals having flames, and resting the night away... smoking pot, or whatever?"

Buck took a gander at me unusual, "No Chick, it's simply the times...everyone disregards every other person here; or attempts to. These individuals are only here for a brief timeframe, in any case."

We stood and investigated the camps, the blazes, until we at last got drained and made a beeline for the dojo; it appeared it was the gathering place. In any event for me, since it was the place I would rest.

The next night Gosei was training a class, there was around thirty of us lounging around the dojo, legs crossed tonight. I was there three weeks back when Big John, presently a first degree dark, had recently gotten his belt advancement to dark belt, at that point seven days after the fact, he was preparing with Buck, and was assume to go easy on the grounds that they were taking a shot at structure and method however Big John didn't concur with the constraints it appeared, and crushed Buck in the face. Presently seven days after that occasion, here we are preparing and getting ready for tonight, Gosei had all of us sit down after around twenty minutes, towards the dividers, and got Big John out to assist him with a show. I felt something would occur; it was noticeable all around.

About this time I was finding a workable pace ways really well. He was a little man, calm, however as quick as helping, and you just never recognized what was at the forefront of his thoughts, as though he was continually thinking. I've seen he tosses a great many mixes of punches and kicks, while exhibiting with Buck; I just never could get the camera to take brisk enough pictures, there appeared to be consistently to have a haze in them indicating the speed. At the point when the photos got created they by method for the haze, it was astonishing to look at the image and make sense of how to function around his blend. What's more, every time he accomplished something, he had flawless equalization. As I had learned throughout everyday life, is the key to life, in all things, physical, mental, otherworldly, and mental. In the event that one of those components were missing, I had an issue, or would have. Then again he was the most delicate individual on earth, and adored humankind in his own cautious way. What's more, knew by one way or another, the nature of a man, as he blended it in with his way of life; in other words, whatever was anticipated from the Japanese understudy, in Japan, was a bit much what he expected of Americans in America. Something I would get, not exactly knowing where I had acquired it from, yet as I would later on do some voyaging, I figured out how to modify in a few distinct nations with no troubles for expanded times of times. It is a mater of thinking. Regardless, and Goesi was the first to show this blend for my life voyages I would require after I left San Francisco

as Big John got into his position, and right now I was a Green Belt, prepared to get my Brown Belt quickly, so I knew a considerable lot of the moves that would happen, and had about 18 months of karate training added to my repertoire preceding coming to San Francisco, of which a couple of months were with the Master Yamaguchi. As I was stating Big John was in his position - and GoJo Ryu being a protective style of karate, somebody needed to begin thus Gosei made a bogus move, which means just to rouse his adversary; conceivable this is the thing that happened to Buck and John exploiting it since it was practice. Regardless, at that point it occurred: - Big John began tossing his long arms out, and Goesi got under them, around them, and must of hit him about multiple times simultaneously; for John fell into a corner attempting to push the punches away absent a lot of effect, which was another slip-up of his, Gosei cut him done like a major oak tree since he left himself open at that point, until he was nearly on his knees blends were going quicker than the eye could compute, at that point he pulled back and halted and bowed, left, and educated all of us on what to do straightaway. No one was discussing what occurred, yet I knew the subliminal of many were staying at work longer than required, mine was. I cherished it. I knew Goesi was specific on how his understudies utilized their insight into karate, and one exercise was - I assume, nobody minds the amount you know, until you show the amount you give it a second thought. What's more, Goesi indicated in every case the amount he gave it a second thought; and to be very straight to the point did as well, Buck.

Buck approached me the following day and inquired as to whether I needed to head out to the Japanese motion pictures with him; he truly preferred the sword warriors, the samurais. I loved doing that, - that is going out to see the films and seeing the samurai moving, - I was in an alternate world, an intriguing contrasted with my St. Paul world. Matter of actuality, I would consistently hold a little enthusiasm for that territory, after San Francisco, additionally; just as Sumo wrestling of which I would go to one somewhere in the range of thirty years not far off in Japan; just as bullfights, I would go to in Mexico, and cockfights in Peru, and all issues of battle, I could ingest: - I even wound up in Argentina for a South American Championship fight some thirty after four years.

I think Goesi had asked Buck, - in dread I'd go off to some far away place - or go drink myself to death, to become a close acquaintence with me a bit. He was a genuine dad figure for me, in addition to a legend of sorts, and was ending up being a companion too. Thus we went. I like this specific one, or personage in the Samurai motion picture world, he was visually impaired and could utilize his sword like Yamaguchi could his hands. In case I'm not mixed up, when this Samurai cut a fly into. I think they had genuine great embellishments in Japan for that film; yet I preferred it. Buck enjoyed Edgar Rice Burroughs likewise, he had perused I figure each of the seventy or eighty of his books, to incorporate Tarzan, the Mars books, Venus ones and god realizes what else. I was unable to accept he perused all them.

I was taking in something from Buck, not just how to be a companion, and battle, however how it may be conceivable som

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