Millions profess to know God or believe that there is a supreme creator, and yet, the surprising truth is that not many people truly know who or what God is. It may sound shocking to make such a statement, but it happens to be true; Satan, the god of this planet has deceived humanity to have a false view of God.
People do not know who or what God is
What God is NOT
The popular belief in the professed Christian world is that God is a trinity – composed of God the Father, Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit as being a trinity.
There are those who will quote several scriptures which seem to refer to the holy Spirit as being a third person because the Bible – using the personal pronoun, often refer to the Spirit as HE. For example, John 16:13 says, “… when the Spirit of truth, is come, he will guide you into all truth: for he shall not speak of himself; but whatever he shall hear, that shall he speak …” Looking at this has convinced millions to believe Christ is speaking of another Being or third person. But what the millions have failed to understand that the personal pronoun “HE” should actually be correctly translated as “IT” and not “HE”. The translators who wanted to believe God is a trinity, used the word “HE” instead of “IT.” It should read: “When “IT” the spirit of truth is come …” This word is in the neuter gender and is not referring to either male or female; and should not be translated as “He.” If you go to Romans 8:16, you will read the correct usage - for here it says, “The spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit …”. The spirit of God is referred to as “ITSELF”. The holy spirit of God is a “IT” and not a He; it is not a third person.
A woman conceives a child through the father, and yet Jesus who was conceived by the holy Spirit, never called the holy Spirit his Father, Why?
Also consider this: The Bible says in Matthew 1:20 that Jesus was conceived by the Holy Ghost. If the holy spirit was a person, then it means the holy spirit would then be the father of Jesus Christ. But nowhere in the Bible does Jesus makes any reference to the holy Spirit as being his father; You never see Jesus praying to the Holy Spirit but to God as his Father; This fact alone is proof positive that the holy spirit is not a third person.
In Zechariah 4:6, God says, “… not by might, nor by power (meaning human might or power -as God does not rely on human power), but by my spirit, saith the Lord of hosts.” God says his power comes from his own spirit - meaning the spirit is the power of God; it the power that emanates from God himself.
In John 7:38,39 Jesus spoke of the Spirit as rivers of living waters; a person is not a river of water; also Acts 2:17 speaks of God pouring out his Spirit; if the holy Spirit was a person, how can a person be poured out or quenched – even a 1 Thess. 5:19 says?
Jesus spoke of the Spirit as living waters; a person is not living waters, but rather the power that emanate from God
But what about 1 John 5:7,8 which says, “For there are three that bear record (in heaven, the Father, the Word and the HOLY GHOST; and these three are one. And there are three that bear witness in the earth) the spirit, and the water and the blood …” If you take careful note, the words placed in the parenthesis or bracket - beginning with “in heaven and ending with witness in the earth” was actually added by editors to the Latin Vulgate translation possibly in the Early Fourth century as it was never in the older Greek manuscripts; men added these words because they wanted to pass on their own belief that God is a trinity, but thankfully God has so inspired his word so that we can know this is false and was added to God’s inspired truth. You can read this passage in the New American Standard Bible, The English Bible and others to see that they left out this false or spurious scripture.
God is not a trinity; this is a false belief that people have been led to believe and a little diligent study on your part will open your mind to this stunning truth. The Bible command the true servant of God to not only prove all things, but also says we are to “Study to shew thyself approved unto God, workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth” (2 Timothy 2:15).
Who or What God is
If you go to Genesis 1;1 you read these words: “In the beginning, God created the heaven and the earth. “The Hebrew word for God is Elohim and it signifies more than one person; it is in plural form but can be used in a singular sense to represent that which comprise more than one person; For example, the word can refer to a Church or family or group in the singular sense, but, at the same time, we know that a Church or family is made up of more than one person. Consider it this way: Suppose a person goes by the last name of brown as the family name; we know that the name Brown, in this case, is speaking of the Brown family – meaning one family named Brown, but having more than one person in the family. Similarly, Elohim is referring to God in the family sense; it is revealing that God is a family; Elohim means God is a family comprised NOT of three persons but only of two persons; it is comprised of the other person to whom God said; “… Let us make man in our image …” (Gen. 1:26).
When God said, “Let us,” God was not talking to himself but to the other God Being – who became Jesus Christ in the flesh; the one who created all things. If you go to John chapter 1:1 it speak of the beginning that was long before God created the heaven and the earth. Notice what it says: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”
Consider carefully that the Word was also God and that this Word or God was also with God. “With” God - signifies that you are talking about two divine personages or persons. In other words, this Word or person who existed with God was the very same one who became Jesus Christ in the flesh. In speaking of this eternal relationship, Jesus said, “… O Father, glorify thou me with thine own self with the glory which I had with thee before the world was” (John 17:5).
Notice Christ said before the world was; this is speaking of their eternal togetherness in eternity; you will also notice that no third person or holy spirit is mentioned as existing with God as a separate person or individual; it was only two personages mentioned. Do you see and believe that?
The truth is God is NOT a trinity, but God is a family of two supreme Beings who has eternally existed in harmony and peace together; there is one God existing as one family – meaning ONE God family, but are two separate individua person who make up the God family.

This is for a steampunk-inspired fantasy world where people can manipulate a magical metal called quicksteel at will.
Introduction
While “No Man’s Land” is considered a desert frontier by most, it has been the home of a native population for centuries: The neksut nomads. The neksut travel from oasis to oasis, riding horses and herding sheep and other animals. Though some Neksut have fearsome reputations as warriors, the neksut way of life is under threat from foreign settlers, most of whom see the as unsophisticated.
Recreation
Though outsiders will confidently claim the neksut have no arts to speak of (or even no culture at all), in truth the desert riders have rich musical and storytelling traditions. The neksut are great lovers of song, specializing in throaty chants. Singing is often heard while the tribe is on horseback or around the camp at night, and is typically collaborative, with a lead singer being echoed by several others. The most famous songs are epic historical and mythical tales, such as The Stone Men, Ballad of the Besieger, and Death of Pulcros. Musical instruments include string and woodwind devices, carved from wood and richly decorated.
However perhaps the greatest neksut art is quicksmithing itself. Manipulating quicksteel is vital to the nomads’ way of life, allowing them to effortlessly convert carts into temporary dwellings and back again. But with excess metal, neksut quicksmiths (called shapers in their language) often create temporary sculptures that will be deconstructed when the tribe moves on. Such sculptures are very abstract, often embodying the mood or state of the tribe at the time of construction. To the neksut, the impermanence of this art represents the transient nature of their way of life and of life itself.
Food
The neksut diet is heavily dictated by their nomadic lifestyle, and is fittingly dominated by the products of domesticated animals, principally horses and sheep. Milk is the most important element, and is drank as well as made into cheese, yogurt, or a dry powder. These dairy products are paired with meat from either domestic sheep or from hunted jackalopes or roastritches. Contrary to popular belief, the neksut do not eat their horses, save in rare cases when an animal dies or is too old to keep up with the tribe. Such animals are far too valuable as mounts and sources of milk to be consumed, and in fact an idiom meaning “eating one’s horse” is a neksut expression for one who has not thought things through.
Vegetables and spices (save for salt) are relatively scarce in much of the central desert and thus are scarce in the neksut diet as well. However the nomads make great use of what ingredients they have in a wide variety of dairy and meat meals. Seasoned jackalope jerky with cheese, shredded mutton over yogurt, and roastritch stew are typical. These meals are supplemented with redleaf, roastritch eggs, and whatever foreign ingredients can be traded for. While their cuisine is typically somewhat plain on account of their transient nature, the neksut can put on impressive feasts for special occasions, such as weddings or celebrations. In these cases the traditional meal is the so-called “yogurt table,” in which each participant is given a bowl of yogurt to pair with dozens of small dishes which are passed amongst the tribe.
Gender and Marriage
The neksut are relatively egalitarian in terms of gender. Two reasons for this may be due to their heavy reliance on horses and quicksmithing for their way of life; Mares are actually far superior mounts to stallions (due to their smaller size and milk), and the necessity for quicksmithing to set up camps and carts means that female quicksmiths cannot be disregarded, as all hands are needed. Thus neksut women can be warriors, chieftains, and shamans, with Salaris the Sandstorm and Mist-Eyes being prominent examples. However outside of these important roles, their still is a gendered division of labor in most tribes. Neksut often marry outside the tribe, with young men and women being sent to other tribes as dictated by shamans.
Government
Neksut governance is divided between chieftains and shamans. Chieftains lead tribes from one oasis to another, ultimately ending their journey at a religious site. Shamans oversee religious sites and help select the next route taken by the passing tribes, coordinating movements between different tribes so that resources are given time to replenish. The balance of power between these two roles has varied over time, though currently shamans seemingly hold the dominant role. Shamans serve an important logistical purpose in organizing the travels of tribes and arranging marriages, but they also act as culture repositories, with the shared language, history, and customs of the neksut likely owing to the shamans’ influence. Thus the Neksut are considered one culture and not a dozen.
Religion
Though their mythology purports to explain the origins of humanity, the first mentions of the neksut in the historical record dates to the aftermath of the Great Dying. Some scholars have suggested that the neksut might share common ancestry with some of the people of Tolmika, noting common elements between neksut religion and the Faith of the Heeders.
Neksut religion is centered around the earth and the sky. According to their mythology, the desert was originally a paradise that was the birthplace of the first humans, the Stone Men, who were the children of the earth and the sky. These children crafted a vast civilization from the abundant resources, living like gods for centuries. But over time they forgot their place, abusing the land and ignoring the sky. Eventually, the parents punished their offspring; The earth sent forth earthquakes and eruptions, while the sky whipped up duststorms and withheld the rain. The paradise transformed into the great desert, and most of the children died or fled, leaving their civilization to crumble. But one child, “Neksut”, remained and resolved to repent by living off the land even in these harsh conditions, slaying his fellow stone men. The neksut trace their origins to this figure. They see their own lifestyle as a continuation of that repentance, and view other civilizations as a recreation of their ancestor’s mistakes.

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Hello, I'm new here although have been reading for a while. I've noticed and have been looking for insight into a pattern I've come across and I thought perhaps some people here could help.
I've seen many reports of a process where the overarching pattern is essentially: an atheist becomes involved in psychedelic drug use, Eastern spiritual practices or occult practices as a means of seeking spiritual growth. Usually they have a few good experiences with psychedelics which improve their lives significantly. They move from atheism to agnosticism, then to Buddhism or 'New Age' beliefs. But increasingly they find that the psychedelics provide diminishing returns and they start to have bad experiences. They find that the entities they encounter which were once benevolent reveal themselves more and more to be demonic. People develop a sense that these entities operate by offering the ussuspecting victim nuggets of wisdom and profound healing experiences to coax them into further psychedelic use - in the same way that a fisherman offers fish a worm on a hook.
There comes a point when the person converts to Christianity, but still has curiosity about psychedelics. So they try one last time, resulting in an encounter with great evil, demons, and an overall hellish experience which is only resolved by calling for Jesus Christ. Then after the experience the person is entirely convinced of their faith, that Christ is the truth and that psychedelics are nothing but a gateway for demons to access humans.
It's worth nothing this process doesn't only occur through psychedelics but through the use of Eastern or occult practices too. But often these are used in combination. Also worth noting that I've seen a very comprehensive report by someone who I don't think considered themselves a Christian, but noted that the entities they encountered hated any mention of Christ, with reactions from disgruntled to extremely hostile or fearful.
I haven't been able to figure this out. Once answer could be that psychedelics are indeed demonic and that indeed Christ is the truth. This explanation doesn't satisfy me however.
If anyone can give an insight from a Jungian perspective I'd be very grateful. I think it's extremely important to explore given how psychedelics are moving into the mainstream and becoming increasingly popular and that as a species we really do not know what psychedelics actually are.
I'd be happy to provide links to reports, YouTube videos and written reports. I can also further elaborate to the best of my knowledge according to any questions.

Hi everyone,
I'm looking for a song I've heard on German radio in the 90s several times, but I've never been able to identify it. Here's what I remember:
It was a somewhat quiet, slow, atmospheric song with as far as I remember not much more than a synthesizer pad playing a couple of chords on repeat - if there were any drums, they were very quiet in the background. Quite like very slow Drum 'n' Bass without the drum part, somewhat similar to Faithless. The overall mood was pretty melancholic and depressed. It featured a male, very deep, dark, aspirated voice that wasn't really singing as such, but rather rhythmically speaking, like reciting a poem, almost but not quite whispering - not at all like Rap / Hip Hop though.
I remember only bits of the lyrics, the main one being something like "How can we speak, (when?) communication is lost" or a variation of this, maybe "How can we talk" or "It's hard to speak". The only thing I'm pretty sure about is that the word "communication" was spoken/sung and the phrase started with "How can we ..." and then either speak or talk. I don't remember any other specific lyrics, but I'm quite sure the song was about some kind of relationship falling apart.
To be able to understand the lyrics at all I must have had at least some basic English skills, which would put this not earlier than around 1993, and I don't think the song is much older than that. I'd say the timeframe is roughly 1992 to 97.
I remember listening to it several times on our local radio station, so it must have been at least somewhat popular.
I slapped something together and uploaded it on Vocaroo: https://voca.ro/1k7PF7Tlcrjc
It's mainly about the rhythm pattern of the voice, so my hoarse mumbling is supposed to represent real lyrics that I don't remember at all. I think the voice in the song is much deeper than I can go with my voice, and much more "present" and "booming". The two synth chords I used are completely random and probably not at all like the original, but the overall sound characteristic of the synth should be at least close.
What I can rule out so far:
"Keep Talking" by Pink Floyd (it's close though, especially if you made it slower and replaced the guitar with a synth pad to make it sound less like Rock and more like electronic music)
"Sanctuary" by Madonna
"Funeral Party" by The Cure
"Telephone Call" by Kraftwerk

Patriarchate of Alexandria (in Greek)

In the last few days, there was talk about the energy of the Most Reverend Metropolitan of Zimbabwe and Angola, Mr. Seraphim, who, last Thursday, May 2, 2024 , ordained a minister for the missionary needs of his Holy Metropolis. The event caused a lot of reactions, and gave rise to the free expression of various opinions and approaches.
To avoid confusion, the following is clarified:
– The mission in Africa needs deaconesses, mainly for the pastoral work and for the baptisms of adult women, as well as in special cases, such as widowhood, in stricter male-dominated environments, where for a long time the widowed woman is cut off from social and church life.
The Church is well aware of the position, the order and the conditions-conditions of the status of a ministry, as they are described in the Prayers, the Rules of the Apostolic Orders and the Synod in Trullo. It is particularly pointed out that deaconesses were never established in the history of the Church as women-ministers of the Holy Mysteries, but as dedicated women-helpers of the general pastoral, liturgical and sanctifying work of the Church, addressed only to women, where local conditions and customs they were excluded from church life. The first Church was faced with this pastoral problem and found the solution, through deacons. When, of course, societies progressed spiritually, matured, recognized women's rights, the institution of deaconesses fell into disuse. But it is documented that the institution existed and certainly remains in the "spiritual arsenal" of the Church to deal with similar situations even today, under special local conditions.
-In the face of the continuous spread of the Gospel word in Africa and the continuous influx of local brothers to Orthodoxy, pastoral issues were raised, concerning African women, exactly similar to those faced by the Church of the early Christian years. The Holy Synod of the Presbyterian Patriarchate of Alexandria and all Africa took the decision in principle to revive and activate the institution of Deaconesses within its pastoral jurisdiction. However, this Decision was referred for further study to finalize the individual details, such as the vestment, the way of ministry and the functional position of the deacons in the life of the Church today.
However, Rev. Metropolitan of Zimbabwe Mr. Seraphim, for many years a missionary in Africa, joined the implementation of the initial decision of the Holy Synod, which, however, has not become active until today, since the study on the subject to take the final Synodal Decision has not been completed.
Let us have confidence in our Church and especially in the Ambassadorial Patriarchate of Alexandria and all Africa, which sacrificially, quietly and selflessly proclaims Christ and this Crucified One to the ends of the African land, based on the tradition and practice of the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church. May the same sensitivity be shown, which now appears in the case of the intention to properly revive an ancient pastoral act of our Holy Church and in the matters of staffing the holy clergy of the Patriarchal Throne of Saint Mark, of the systematic and practical support of the Apostolic work in Africa or to the major issue of the illegal entry of another Autocephalous Church into the jurisdictional limits of the Palaeate Patriarchate of Alexandria and to the blasphemous attempt to split His native flock, which came to know Christ through the intense sacrificial ministry and the death of even humble Greek missionaries, to the glory of God and illumination of our African brothers who are "in darkness and the shadow of death".
From the Patriarchate of Alexandria and all Africa
Alexandria, May 11, 2024

Been listening to a lot of Nina Simone lately. Scott Walker and Simone are the only singers I know of that have recorded such definitive and critically heralded English translations Jacques Brel song. Scott Walker is the only singer who I can think of who even holds a candle to Nina Simone's renditions (although I feel the need to stress that only Nina Simone can pull this off as a singer while ALSO being one of the greatest pianists to ever live). Even though Scott's 70's albums aren't very good, they are notable for him doing renditions of modern standards of the time and establishing him within a tradition of pop singers that was seemingly dying off at that time). (T)His style was very unfashionable in the late 60's and 70's amongst counter-cultural movements but I think have been reappraised by their appreciation by popular modern artists.
I'm wondering if anyone knows of any other singers/artists who you feel are in this tradition of 'standards' singers but with a more artistic and innovative nature (ie NOT people like Frank Sinatra lol).
Marc Almond is the next person I think of, although I think his more experimental and avant-garde works are stronger than his more traditional songs and covers. ANOHNI's music was my gateway into this type of music and I definitely see her as the modern-day inheritor of these musical sensibilities, even if she never covered Brel's songs. I also LOVE This Mortal Coil's goth-pop renditions of folk and rock music (see their cover and Nina Simone's cover of Judy Collins' 'My Father'). But these feel more like modern artists calling back to tradition that's been past over now.
So yeah, does anyone know of any other artists from the 60's or 70's (or maybe even 50's or 80's) who you feel are tapped into that kind of balladeer with avant-garde sensibilities?
And to be clear, I know there are many other Brel covers, particularly modern ones. That's not as much what I'm asking for. I'm also happy to just discuss this music with like-minded people, I don't really have any friends who are into this kind of stuff.
Sidenote, if you haven't heard Nina Simone's solo cover of the Brel song 'The Desperate Ones.' Very singular and incredibly underrated imo.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HWS70bSWsf4

Here. And I’d like to start by noticing that Steve Sailer is obviously Delicious Taco’s dad. Having said this.
Good episode. Lots of engagement which I suppose is a net positive for all involved. Obviously a lot of the injury stems from a distortion. The episode’s content fantasized and in fantasy warped into something constituting a threat (no, an outright assault) to the listener’s person. One can simply listen to the episode and see that some (in fact the bulk) of the negative responses are from people reacting to some spectral absent-presence rather than to what is actually being said over the course of the 2 hour long episode. The voices and the discourse have instead been shaped into sonic receptacle containing the reflection of something wildly ugly. Injuriously ugly.
Past few days have been brutal. Found myself doom-viewing the main sub, should know better at this age. Feels like I’ve been transmogrified into an absurd and wretched thing. Must've transgressed against a gnome or something. Fascinating to think about.
I would like nothing more than to shame you.
Miami Summer is a killer. Urine is blood-orange. And my mother deserves better sons.
Why would A&D do this?
Witnessing the rankest comments. In bygone age I’d found them tolerable. Having imagined them delivered by high society homosexual. A damned dandy; chubby, sinister, and flamboyant. Capri on a stick limply held between index and middle fingers, twirling wrist ash’ing on expensive Persian rug. The blurry ghosts of his mother and the kid brother who drowned in the pond all those years ago glaring at him from far-off corner. Clearing throat he launches into sing-song slander head peeling back cackling at his own wickedness. Vile and venomous but charming. Instead what we get is 30+ year old mentally-ill men. Men whose Twitter activity has atrophied their cock and balls. Genitals withering away like the Worker's State, in its place a gasping cloaca, worry not I can clock em from miles away. The odious cloaca-havers are soon joined by ruined drug-addled children and the other women. They talk about A&D in disgusting ways. This is unfair and nasty. I confess to being angry. Sweating blood-specked kerosene. Let the scent fill up the empty air between us. My wrath singeing those overgrown nose hairs.
Of the two I think Anna is the one that inspires the harshest parasocial spite. So much so that I’d recommend she take some protective measures against evil eye and tongue. Maybe take baths with hyssop herb, rose water perfume, and holy water.
It’s as if Anna Khachiyan is a Giant Floating Vagina with teeth and a noticeable overbite. Viewed from another angle it transforms into a Madonna encircled by cherubim. Perhaps we are cruel to Anna in order to be kind to our mothers.
All very pre-Oedipal.
Had to step back and parse it out. Anna draws a comparison between herself and Sailer while also asking him a great question,
07:12-07:49
Anna: “I started reading it during the pandemic because it was the pandemic. I was pregnant and bored and I really relate to you as a person who everyone thinks is like evil and monstrous on the internet, but is actually like quite agreeable and mild mannered in real life. And I was going to ask you this question last, but I may as well just ask it now. How do you feel about your new found popularity? And especially, how do you feel about the fact that you have been effectively adopted by or identified with the hard right?”
The first part of the above extract, the sympathetic recognition, brings to mind a bit of 20th century Hermetic theory concerning harmful thought-forms. Our unconscious self-destructive impulses animating the fantasy-phantasm of the other. Inhabiting their shape. Gaining a degree of autonomy. This artificial entity is vampiric by default, provoking what the Czech magician Franz Bardon calls a "magical persecutory complex"... He goes into detail about such entities in Step VI of his seminal work, Initiation into Hermetics. Describing different types of artificial elementals and phantasms along with details on how to consciously go about creating and dissipating them. One of those artificial psychic entities, the one that concerns us, he calls the schemata. Bardon details two variants, one connected with paranoid persecutory fantasies and the other with erotic obsession. The first type comes about when someone who is “easily excitable, easily influenced or self-important” (Narcissist?) has a run in with another person who has, to put it mildly, a memorable visage and dark personality. The schemata is born from the phantasm modeled after this demonic-looking disagreeable person. The victim begins to attribute all kinds of minor inconveniences to the influence of the ugly person. Deludes themselves into thinking that the ugly/disagreeable person is a powerful black magician. Everything appears to reinforce their paranoid delusions. The schema grows in power feeding off the anxieties of their creatohost. The person might end up committing suicide. This was the persecutory schemas desire, having achieved its goal Bardon notes, “how great is the shock when such a spirit realizes on the mental plane that he has committed a very successful magical suicide. What a bitter disappointment! The demonic looking person, however, has no idea what happened; he was actually only the means to an end.”
God gave us eyes so that we might notice things.
The way I see it:
Being social animals the subject of our fantasy, of our fixations, is the fantasy of the other. What makes the human Human is not that we desire but rather that we desire the desire of the other. An excess desire. We fantasize about what the other is fantasizing and enjoying. Our fantasy of the fantasy of the other is the outlines a fundamental lack within our person, a negativity. Experienced as a splitting of consciousness. Intuiting this lack, becoming aware of it, and attempting to articulate it, we are self-consciousness. This negativity or void is in psychoanalytic terms, the unconscious. We likewise intuit that there had once been some original state. One without lack and contradiction. A state of fullness, without the division between self and object. A harmonious whole. A pure consciousness or as Freud refers to it in Civilization and its Discontents an oceanic feeling. The Original Desire, one that is authentically my own, which was not the desire of the other but which unites our desires in itself. This desire is the extinction of all desires.
The eye that perceives the lovely is at once the eye that perceives what I lack. Perceiving this lack, which explains my present condition, I covet. This is an evil eye. The lover’s gaze is of the same type as the infirm or pathic gaze. Reminded of Zizek’s formulation of one of Hegel’s insights, “Evil resides in the very gaze which perceives Evil all around itself" itself a variation of Meister Eckhart’s “the eye through which I see God is the same eye through which God sees me.” The recognition of evil, the ability to see and judge evil, stems from our ability to recognize disparity. This disparity is already present within our own person, the split-consciousness. The feeling cognized, the awareness of our condition as beings separated from the whole. The clairvoyance of the tyrant and the philosopher.
Suppose that psychopathology is born from our inability to recognize an image as an image.
I intuit something more in this person, something they’re hiding. It can’t just be envy, no. It has to be because I can feel that this thing they’re hiding is sinister. It can’t just be that I feel animosity towards this person, no. It has to be because this person is evil and not just an isolated evil but rather a symptom of a much larger evil. An evil that is responsible for all the suffering in the World, for why my World isn’t the way it should be. It can’t just be attraction, no. It has to be that I intuit something more in this person, something hidden, that I must destroy in order to go on living.
If vile shit comes to mind (as vile things often do, especially when one is immersed in ambient algorithmically-summoned vileness, namely outrage and atrocity porn) they won't affirm it to themselves or try to justify or rationalize it or present it as a rational political stance. And they don’t abstract this particular form of vileness into the primary lens through which they view and interpret cultural phenomena. Unreflexive racial animosity is ugly and fetid. We’re capable of recognizing it, feeling it, as something pathological. We’re also capable of laughing at it. Laughing at ourselves. Look at what our ladies have to say about Stuart Seldowitz (the dude who went viral harassing a halal street vendor) in I’ll Be Missinger. “He sucks,” “he’s a loser,” “he’s obviously sick,” and that he gives the impression of someone who lives alone, will die alone, and will be found weeks or even months after the fact.
Perhaps Red Scare is special in how it manages to elicit absurd, wildly inappropriate responses from listeners. Vulgar and revelatory was it? Steve Sailer elicits a similar response and has become an expert in turning said absurd reactions to his advantage. Generally the cooler-head in any given exchange. While the other person shouts obscenities at a ghost, smashing fists against the post, looking crazy, like a proper hysteric. Sailer breaks the fourth-wall, making eye-contact with the would-be noticer, with a little shake of the head, a little chuckle, a little shrug… “you’re noticing right? See what I have to put up with? Imagine these people defining my legacy.” Still he seems to take it with the good humor of an uncle who will still call you on your birthday, despite your drunken outburst during holiday get-together he will admit to not having resisted the temptation to provoke you, it use to be fun, recall all the cool bands I introduced you too? We use to be best buds, “do you really think anything I’ve said merits this sort of response? Honestly?”
Has to be a cheap trick. A technique employed by an old trickster in decades long honing of craft. Maybe not. Maybe what we see is precisely what we get. Most of the very upsetting things being jokes sincerely intended to lighten the mood. Steve Sailer doesn’t care about the particular political orientation of his audience. He just cares that he has an audience. Grateful for the fans he has. Nonetheless happy that they’re not seething malcontent racists. Even if one disagrees with the methodology, the heuristic, the conclusions. That’s secondary, perhaps even tertiary to the recognition sought. His craftsmanship as a writer.
Why I loved his conflict with Will Stancil. Stancil inspired a lot of pondering for me. Putting things in place…
01:29:22-01:29:28
Anna: “You come for the race science and stay for the prose-styling and vivid story-telling.”
In trying to survive as a writer exiled from Mainstream Conservative media (ConInc) during the Bush Jr years. In fact, correct me if I’m wrong but the cancelation that actually impacted Steve Sailer, setting him down the path we find him in, was brought about not by blue-haired hall monitor millennial leftists but by his “fellow” Conservatives. I imagine that he just went with whoever was willing to take him adapting to the editorial standards and audience sensibilities of the publications willing to provide him succor. Not charity mind you but an ability to engage in his own little labor of love.
Read some Sailer. Might get into that later. But that’s the initial impression I got from Steve. Would be utterly mortified if memorialized as a Racialist Ideologue rather than as an entertaining and thought-provoking journalist. Think I also benefited from seeing how he’s actually received by people who are navigating through (or in certain cases, are mired in) the marginal “Hard Right”-spaces or the Rightwing Digital Ghetto. End up realizing that he isn’t hateful, that what you see is precisely what you get, that he privileges craft over ideology, that his reception and exile from Neocon dominated media outlets (remember these are the people gushing ecstatic over the US invasion of Iraq, manufacturing consent for our adventures in the Middle East) was exceedingly unfair but that he nonetheless managed to persevere. And that he really never goes beyond Norm McDonald in terms of his sardonic wit or The Boondocks animated series in terms of his criticisms. His normality is a great source of stability and comfort for his readers; “noticing” and speculating about these topics doesn’t necessarily lead to one becoming a seething racist.
Returning for a moment to Will Stancil, this was what he inspired:
As the last man standing I spend countless hours immersed in detailed fantasies about the coming apocalypse and my enemy's bliss. A dumb and wicked happiness proportional to my suffering. Easy to imagine other people happy. Hearts unbroken. Unburdened, hydrated, sexually satisfied, debt-free, lucky, successful in all business endeavors. Brute, jezebel, schemer, parasite, rival, betrayer... the whole lot of them thriving. Frolicking in my mind's eye. When the time comes I won't forget that they were happy while...others...suffered.
Find that trying to void your mind of all thought or sit perfectly still for 10 minutes. End up feeling like something requires much less energy from us than nothing. Causes coalescing. Conspiring, to what ends?
You see. The very same principle appears to be at work here. Same pathological base that undergirds genuine racial or ethnic animosity. Fantasizing about the other’s enjoyment and being unable to distinguish between the persecutory Phantasm and the actual human being whose shape it appropriates.
Had a friend recommend forgetting. Forgetting is a dialectical exercise, first you have to acknowledge the thing living rent free in your head and acknowledge its origins... then you have to take the steps to stop feeding it. Letting the thought-form dissolve. Let it be put to rest. Reminded of the practice Orthodox Christian contemplatives call Nepsis.
Other approaches as well, acknowledging the presence of anima veiled in shadow.
But listen…
The podcasts I consume, are a reflection of me as a person. Being what I associate and consume. What does it say about me in particular? Reveal about me? That they should have Steve Sailer on the pod. Settling down. Perhaps some responses could be understood in this light. That a Sailer episode reflects poorly on the listener. Constituting a great betrayal of the love and energy and time I have dedicated over the years to you.
I’m not a racist.
Show me your likes on Twitter and I’ll tell you who you are. The most punitive and brutal god. The idea of the AI nu-god being this, utilizing that standard, is horrifying. Show me your likes on Twitter and I’ll tell you who you are, everything you are, and whether or not you qualify to live.
Shamed, I quietly remove the upvote I gave to the hysterical person and the downvote I gave to him.
Hysteria like a yawn is an empathic contagion.
Back to Anna it’s not because she’s ugly and it sucks that she might nurse this delusion. I actually think Anna is really pretty. Rather I think it’s because she’s a mom. She registers as a maternal figure. That’s one of the reasons I think people respond to her the way they do. As stated earlier. We are cruel to Anna in order to forgive our moms.
[To be continued: Wherein I say horrible things that should never be said to the people I claim to love. Will also interrogate Sailor Socialism]

The lyrics go like 'You know, you know...' sang by a bunch of children but the singer is male. Please help identify this song. tq.

Wade took a breath as he picked up his old duffel bag, now loaded with his DD uniform and a few other items from the Ceres mines as he slotted it to his side, with the large band handle around his neck. Having gathered his belongings, he joined Tina, who was waiting near the ship's open bay door as he walked over to her. The couple watched several of the other troopers inside marching out as well, some carrying crates of supplies and items out of the craft as they departed for the base outside. Kelly was one of the last ones still on board, checking on a section of the cargo bay as she did what Wade presumed was some maintenance work.
With the way now clear, Wade and Tina stepped off the transport, glancing at the massive base around them as they touched the roughened pavement. Throughout the large landing port were several more chameleon dropships, their crews disembarking with similar items and loads of rescued drones aboard. Beyond the ships were several hangar bays and fighter craft, mostly A-20s and their space-borne cousins docked in lines going across the pad. And beyond the landing zone, towering over several buildings at the base, were the few cruisers docked to the large clamps holding them in place.
Walking ahead with Tina, Wade observed some of the departing Coalition troops as they neared one of several tents stationed near an inactive group of planes, the military personnel interacting and exchanging the crates with the Coalition officers upon reaching each other. Hearing a low roar of engines from afar, the lover drones looked upward to see the large USN warship that was present at the factory earlier, having followed the transport convoy home and now was beginning to descend for landing. Wade gave a silent gasp as he caught a glimpse of the ship's name and SIC number at the side, remembering it from the ship he and Ron saw while returning to Earth.
"Always a wondrous thing to see, isn't it Wade?" Tina said as she and her boyfriend watched the ship slowly come lower to the unoccupied dockyard clamps below it.
"Sure is, wonder how they built those babies?" Wade replied as the two looked upon the landing starship, the former worker drone smirking as he added, "I could've swore I saw that same exact ship over Henderson when Ron and I came back, before we got mugged earlier."
Tina glanced to Wade with surprise as she spoke up on his claim. "Really? Well, that had to be the one that helped our friends here back at the factory. I think I saw the same name on it too!"
"Wouldn't surprise me, seeing all that's happened today." Wade replied as he chortled a bit, Tina doing the same as the former spoke further. "I wonder, what kind of ship is the... Vickers again? You know?"
"Autumn class, dear. A heavy destroyer variant, not as strong as those enormous Yamato dreadnoughts or Adelaide battlecruisers, but she'll put up a good fight for whatever comes at her." Tina explained as she held back another chuckle, thinking of her education on various USN craft as she teased Wade lightly. "You know, I may just have to grab one of those ship roster tabs when we get in the base. I'd love to show you all they got in their arsenal."
Wade chortled again as he gave his thoughts on the idea. "Well, it wouldn't be bad to have a little more knowledge in ship-story."
Tina almost burst out laughing at his crude pun, Wade smiling at her as F and Nathan jogged over to the two, the latter carrying his own backpack behind him as he spoke. "Well, not a bad place, huh? You guys heading to the clearance station?"
"Oh yes, we were just admiring the ships around us while we walked." Tina said with a stifled laugh, easing herself as she chatted with her new friends. Wade, however, was quickly overcome with panic as he remembered something. Checking his pockets, his fears were confirmed as he failed to find one of his key possessions: his ID card. Wade felt he must have lost it when he was stripped of his old clothing while in the factory.
Oh no, guys? I don't think I can pass through." Wade said with greenish-yellow circles for eyes as Tina and the others looked to him in concern, the drone feeling through his pockets once more before stating his issue. "My ID, they must've taken it off me when they turned me into a disassembly drone!" Wade began to hyperventilate lightly as he grew fearful of the potential outcomes when they reached the security gate ahead. "Oouuugghh, if I don't have my ID, they'll have to keep me lo-"
"Wade, Wade... it's okay. I'll have them make a pass for you, surely we can get them to after getting them to understand what's happened." Tina stated as she put her hand to Wade's chest, who eased his panic as he looked to his girlfriend.
"Yeah, and besides Wade, those people over there went around gathering what ever items the company stole from the drones during their conversion. I'm sure that once they find it, they'll have it sent off to be given back to you!" Nathan said as F nodded in agreement, shunting Wade's panic out of him with their words as he replied to the hopeful responses.
"Right, yeah, they should do that. Sorry." Holding Tina's hand, Wade spoke to her once more. "Lead the way."
Tina nodded to Wade before the two began to walk over to the security gate nearby, several people, drones and humans alike, already in the line as they checked themselves in to the base to relax after the hard-fought battle. Once they reached the line, the four stood together as they waited for the line to slowly go up, more troops and rescued drones coming over to add to the long line. During the wait, a loud, mechanical 'SLAM' erupted through the air, prompting Wade and Tina to glance over to the direction of the noise. The two felt at ease once more as they saw the Vickers finally landed at the base, the loud clang being the docking clamps attaching to the ships hull just moments ago.
As the line moved up further to the gate, Wade and Tina caught sight of a pair of A-20 aircraft passing over them, the two watching as the planes slowed down while descending onto the runway nearby. The four drones' collective viewing of the fighters landing ceased as they caught sight of J, who took flight as she departed the transport nearby before flying over to the tents near the hangar bays.
"Huh, wonder what she's over there for?" Nathan said as he observed J landing onto the ground in front of one of the tents.
"Probably checking on the drones we got back, or meeting up with one of those commanders there." F said as she motioned an arm towards the tents, J walking under one as she made her way to one of the soldiers coming over to her. "Seems like the latter, from the looks of it."
Wade shrugged as he responded to the group's pondering over J's actions. "Well, she'll be here with us if we need her, right? Shouldn't be much to worry about."
Returning their focus to the line ahead, Wade and his team waited as the line moved up over the next few minutes, moving impressively fast as the people in front cleared themselves in one at a time. Eventually, the four of them were up, Tina stepping up to show her ID for clearance. "Hello, it's been a busy day, hasn't it?"
The security agent smirked at Tina's small-talk. "Hah, not too busy here until you all showed up."
As the guard finished scanning Tina's ID, she handed the card back to her as she raised a finger to begin her request. "Oh, um, there's a little issue we need to resolve." Putting a hand to Wade's arm, Tina explained her boyfriend. "This is my dear friend Wade, Wade Carter. We both managed to escape that blasted factory with the help of those Coalition folks there." Wade gave a pleading look as Tina continued. "Unfortunately, Wade was converted into a disassembly drone before he was rescued, and it seems those people at the company took all his belongings he had on him, including his ID. Do you think there's... anyway you could write up something to let him by?"
Stepping forward, F gave her end of the story. "I can vouch for him, Ma'am. Wade and I we're among the teams helping in getting the worker drones out of the factory during the operation." The disassembly drone pulled out a pair of cards as she finished her explanation, one of them being her company-issued Disassembly Service Passcard, which resembled a normal civilian ID in appearance, save for the 'JCJenson (In Spaaace!) Logo on the top left and hazard markings around the rim of the card. As for the other card, it was a well worn, still legitimate ID card, showing F as how she appeared when she was a worker drone. At the side of her picture was a name with an initial. "FELICITY A LEE"
Taking the two cards in her hand, she looked them over and scanned them as Nathan tried to back Wade up as well. "So can I, Ma'am! I helped there too, when he was under the company's control. We all got him out of the factory so we could get him back in order." Pulling out his own ID, Nathan handed it out as the guard returned F's IDs to her.
The guard accepted Nathan's ID as she spoke over what to do with Wade. "Well, normally it takes clearance from higher ranked personnel here to allow someone inside without a legitimate form of identification. We can't just take someone's word on things like this, after all." Tina seemed to frown in disappointment as the guard explained her protocols, Wade looking down at the ground as he felt his worries were about to be proven correct. Going over Nathan's ID further, she gave an intrigued expression at the card before continuing. "Huh, interesting. Got two veteran folks here, I see?" She glanced to Nathan and F as she said that, taking into account their former military background as the former spoke up.
"Three, actually. My pal Kurtis is somewhere back there, I think. He should be heading down here later this evening." The guard glanced back at Nathan's ID as she took in the veteran drone's reply, sighing as she decided to make a slight amendment to the issue put before her and the four friends.
"Well, seeing you two here, I believe I can write something up. The Major won't be happy with me for this, but I think I can trust you with appropriate behavior." Taking a small sticky name-tag, the woman pulled out a pen before starting to write on it. Initially, she glanced to Wade, who stated his name again before she began to write his name on the tag. Once she was finished, the guard gave the tag to Wade, who slapped it onto his jacket before she spoke to him. "You should be fine to enter for the most part, just stick close to your friends and don't cause any trouble. Understood?"
Wade gave a stern salute to the security officer, who held back a chuckle at the honest, yet amusing effort the disassembly drone showed to her. Giving a simple nod and a flick of her hand, she permitted Wade and his friends entrance to the base, the four walking past the walkway barricades as they made their way past the gate.
Wade let out a heavy sigh of relief as he thanked his allies. "I owe you both so much for this, thanks!"
"Don't mention it, Wade." F said warmly as she and Nathan laughed at his joyful face.
"Yeah, just doing what any good friend should." Nathan said as Tina wrapped an arm around Wade, holding him tightly as the two walked together.
Looking to his girlfriend, Wade spoke to Tina about what to do next. "Well, since we're in, you wanna go fi-" He ceased his words as he remembered that there was someone else they needed to find amongst the base. "Oh, I almost forgot about her,"
"Jasmine!" Tina and Wade said aloud together as the former remembered her sister, Wade's words snapping her mind to Jasmine in an instant. "We should look for her, you think she might be here somewhere?"
"Probably. If they got Ron after they captured me, they have to 've picked her up too." Wade stated, Nathan raising a hand as he offered to help.
"I could go looking for her! You know what she looks like?" Readying a holo-projector, he tried to display an image of Jasmine from one of his many memories of her. The picture was, while pixelated and under a blue hue, incredibly well-detailed. And for Nathan, that was all he needed to see to note Jasmine's appearance in his memory. Nodding, he spoke again to his friends. "Got it! I'll see if she's around!" Then, turning to run down one of the paths leading to a nearby base facility, he stopped as he asked one more question. "Oh! One more thing, you got a smartcomm on ya, Wade?"
Readying one from his holo-projector hand, he nodded as he spoke into it. "Seems so, though I don't seem to have all my contacts added in."
Running back over, Nathan pulled out his own smartcomm before putting it up against Wade's hand one, allowing the two devices to exchange information. Upon the devices beeping, Wade and Nathan nodded to each other, the former ignoring a pop-up that stated, "New Contact Added" while the latter spoke once more. "Okay, I'll call you once I spot her!" With that, he began running down the path once more, intent on finding Tina's sister at the base, wherever she could be.
"Fowley! Her last name's Fowley!" Tina said aloud to the departing Nathan, hoping he heard her words before turning away from the miner drone and facing Wade and F again.
As Tina sighed in partial relief, Wade put his own arm around her before asking the question he tried to ask before. "So, uh, with that out of the way for now... You wanna go look for one of those ship tabs?"
Putting a hand to Wade's chest, Tina smiled as she replied. "Oh, certainly." Then, as the three began walking down a different path that Nathan hadn't taken, the pilot drone continued with a chuckle. "I hear they have a place here that sells model kits too!"
...
Jasmine sat in silent sorrow as she took another gulp of her glass of Proxi-Vodka, a tasty, but heavy alcoholic beverage produced at the colony of Proxima 2... and one of Jasmine's preferred drinks to have when she wasn't in a good mood. When she awoke after being stunned by the station guards, she found that she was just recovered by a group that called themselves the 'United Earth Coalition', and that her drone friend, Tina, was unfortunately taken by the JCJenson corporation to be turned into one of their horrid disassembly drones. While the people that saved her offered to help her find Tina, so far there had been no luck in doing so. No successful calls, no response from Wade nor Ron, nothing.
The whole situation widdled at her like scrapes to her form, slowly draining any bit of hope that she had in finding her sister. And once the mission at that factory was over, the ship began heading back to the Nellis Base to escort the recovered drones back to a safe area. Unfortunately for Jasmine, Tina's presence was not given confirmation. Alone, she walked off to one of the bars down at the base, specifically Drexler's Cantina, one of the more popular bars down at the military starport. Thankfully, though she didn't openly exhibit feelings of wanting to be alone in her wallowing, she was glad the place was nearly barren of patrons, with only a few at a couple of tables within the bar.
The stage at the back of the bar also had a few singer drones performing aloud, the lead singer girl reciting the words of a quiet, yet exciting song that, instrumentally, consisted of a strange mix of bass, techno, and a hint of opera. The song itself was one Jasmine had heard a good many times before in her life, known as, 'You Complete My World' by a decades old Earth band by the name of HeartStar. The song, as Jasmine and many others who'd heard it interpreted it, was about someone who described their world like a puzzle, and that the one whom the main singer cared for beyond all was the only thing that could keep their world from shattering into ruin before them.
An oddly fitting tune, given what had just happened on the JCJ Central earlier. For all Jasmine knew, Tina was either alive beyond her knowledge, hopefully searching for her wherever she could, or, the answer Jasmine feared... Dead.
Not wanting to even consider the thought, the human pilot took another swig of the colonial Vodka, relishing in its taste before forcing herself to swallow, almost gagging from the strength of the drink. Easing herself, she glanced out to one of the windows of the bar, taking the faint glimpse of night into her eyes. Then, looking to the clock at the wall ahead of her, she saw the time was about a little over an hour to 10 pm. Jasmine gave a sigh to herself, certain she would be alone for the rest of the night.
Unbeknownst to her, however, Jasmine had been spied upon a little while ago. Nathan, in his search for the woman Tina called Jasmine Fowley, had spotted a woman matching the physical appearance of the target. Knowing Jasmine wouldn't know who he was if he tried to talk to her himself, Nathan immediately went looking for Wade, easing his return to his team by calling the former worker drone and signaling him about his findings.
Deciding to check on the news, Jasmine slowly pulled out her smartcomm, resisting her urge to press the contacts button as she tapped the news app. Looking through it, she spotted a recent story that was posted just over an hour ago, titled, "JCJenson 'Recall' effort sabotaged by joint Government/Militia forces! The Truth Exposed!" Above the article was a video, a play button in front of it teasing Jasmine. Curious over this sudden development, she pressed the button, her attention in complete focus on the video as it began to play.
After the news station's logo appeared on-screen for a short few seconds, the current host for the story, Mrs. Tiffany Joy, appeared at her seat before beginning the story. "Good evening, this is Nevada-78, I'm your host, Tiffany Joy. Tonight, we start with a rapid development for the 'drone recall' incidents propagated by the business conglomerate JCJenson In Space. Throughout the afternoon up to now, several advanced factories under the ownership of the corporation have fallen under violent assault by various militarized forces, ranging from official United Nations operatives to private militia groups with varying goals." The small screen to Joy's left shifted to show the state of Nevada, zooming into it to show a portion of the Mojave desert as Joy continued her story.
"Among these facilities, one such factory based right here in southern Nevada has recently succumbed to the successful efforts of the USN Defense Force and a group by the name of the United Earth Coalition, an alliance consisting of humans and automatons working to create a unified world for both species." The screen shifted again to show the logo for the UEC, which appeared as one half of a human head outline and another of a drone's, along with two arms behind the heads belonging to both beings pictured. "With the attack having concluded just hours ago, we have reporters gathering at the New Nellis Staryards near Henderson City to bring you the aftermath of the conflict. We go to Mr. Jelico, on the scene in five."
The camera shifted after the countdown of five to show Mr. Jelico in front of the camera, the cameraman filming a large tent housing several worker drones being tended to by the base soldiers. "Alright, Jelico here, we're on station at New Nellis. What you're all seeing here are some of the recovered worker drones, many of them were pretty spooked by the events that unfolded in that factory earlier." As the camera panned over the lot of drones, some of them looked to the camera, curious at the news crew filming them as Jelico continued. "A few of them are real glad to be here, Joy. Seems like they feel safe here, as far as I can tell."
As the camera moved to show Jelico again, a plane could be seen taking off as he spoke. "Yeah, these people did them quite a service. The staff here are working to find their original owners and families, it'll probably be a little bit before they can get them all home." The camera switched once again to another view of the base, the lights of various buildings illuminating the night as the news story continued.
At the entrance, Nathan pushed open the door to the bar, the chime failing to catch anyone's attention as he, Wade, F and Tina stepped inside. Carefully pointing at Jasmine, he whispered to Tina, "That's her, from the looks of it. She's been here for a good minute!"
Taking another drink of the Proxi-Vodka, Jasmine listened further to the story. "The authorities didn't just recover a majority of the worker drones taken into the factory, however. A recent update provided by Mrs. Yuka, shows her interviewing a disassembly drone who claims to be among the unfortunate drones the assault force failed to save before their conversion."
"Jasmine!" Tina called out, the voice instantly grabbing the woman's attention as she paused the news story. Swiftly turning her head, her heart began pounding with immense excitement as she saw her drone sister, who grinned upon seeing her face.
"Tina!" Jasmine said aloud, somewhat weakly from her previous wallowing as she tried to run over to her sister, landing on her knees as the two embraced in a flush of emotions. Wade and his friends stood behind the two girls as they hugged each other, clinging onto one another as tightly as they could give. Jasmine seemed to erupt with a pained cough as she allowed some of her sorrow out of her heart, Tina carressing her back in a comforting manner as she held back her own tears. The sisters held the hug for a long moment, not daring to let go of one another for fear of losing each other again. Eventually, however, they did, the two sisters taking heavy breaths as Jasmine spoke up while wiping her face. "I thought I'd lost you."
"Can't say I didn't feel the same way, love." Tina replied as she broke out in light laughter, glancing to Wade before continuing. "But, fortunately, those Coalition boys helped out quite a bit. Though, not as much as my knight in his new armor."
Standing herself up, Jasmine took Tina's helping hand as she looked to the one her sister spoke of. A grateful smile formed on Jasmine's face as she saw Wade, standing in front of her and Tina as he returned the expression. Looking upon her family friend, Jasmine noticed something... different about Wade. He was taller now, his arms were shaped like white cones rather than the silver bendy tubes he and Tina normally had. As for his face, his pure green eyes were replaced with a set of greenish-yellow ones, and above his forehead was a band holding five yellow bulbs that she didn't know the function of.
While the pieces started to click together in her head, Jasmine took Wade's held out hand as she spoke to him. "Wade, I'm so glad to see you! You look different, too. Did something... happen to you?" She already guessed it by this point, but feigned confusion as she opted to hear Wade's take on the matter.
"Yeah, I hope you don't mind your sister dating a vampire from now on." Tina chortled in amusement at Wade's comment at himself, Jasmine raising an eyebrow in confusion at the former worker drone as he returned his expression to a more sincere smile. "The company got me too, and unlike the workers we got out... they managed to turn me into a disassembly drone. From now on, I'm gonna need to take in more oil than I usually did before I was turned. My cooling system's not as good as it should be, from what I've heard." Pulling out his two full canteens, Wade finished his partial explanation. "Don't worry, though. I've got some to keep me down."
Jasmine took in the news with immense surprise, noticing the hazard stripes at the rims of Wade's arms as she replied to her friend. "Oh... Well, if Tina's fine with it, then I see no problem with that, Wade." Admittedly, she was a bit unnerved by the change, concerned for both him and Tina's safety due to this supposed oil coolant issue. Trying to sound as nice as she could on the matter, Jasmine hesitantly asked Wade, "Though... I am a bit concerned with that bad cooling problem you mention. You... don't think you would-"
"Hurt Tina?!" Wade assumed, understanding Jasmine's concern as he gave a horrified glance to the two sisters. Standing with his fists to his hips, he gave his answer to Jasmine's presumed question. "Don't even say such a thing, Jasmine. I'd rather overheat than dare strike her."
Admittedly amused as well as concerned for Wade's selflessness, Tina chuckled at him before speaking up on the matter. "Now now, Wade. It won't be so bad. We'll manage."
Jasmine nodded as she agreed with her sister's optimistic view on the problem. "Indeed we will, we always do." Then, taking notice of the other two drones in the room, Jasmine smiled at them before speaking again. "Ah, I see you brought some friends too."
Wade and Tina glanced over to Nathan and F upon Jasmine's statement, the two friends smiling pleasantly as Wade spoke up. "Oh, yeah. These are some of my work buddies from Ceres, Jasmine. This is Nathan, I first met him when Ron and I came to the mines, showed us around a bit too." Putting a hand on F's shoulder, Wade introduced her too. "And this is Serial Designation F, or, just F. She was one of the guards keeping watch on the place while we worked."
F seemed to blush out of embarrassment as she remembered her and Wade's first meeting. "I... did come off a little rough on them when they first came in, though. Stopped Nathan's touring run too. Just following colony protocol."
Nathan patted F's back as he tried to ease F's guilt. "Oh, it's nothing F. We had to start work in a few minutes anyway. Besides, it's a bit more fun exploring the place yourself without a guide." He winked at the others as he finished his praise. "Trust me, it really is."
Wade, Tina and Jasmine all chuckled at their friend's amusing words, F joining in as she replied to Nathan's encouragement. "Alright, alright."
Walking up to the two, Tina put her hand onto Nathan's as she gave her own praises. "And they may not look like it, dear, but Nathan and F were both formerly in the military, from what Wade's told me."
Jasmine gave a proud smirk at the two as she responded to her sister's claim. "Well, that's quite something. Did she tell you we used to fly for them some years back?"
"Oh, she did, Mrs. Fowley." Nathan replied as he chuckled lightly, F giving a smile of her own as she added her own part to the story.
"Yeah, and given what's happening now, maybe they might call you back for service again. Wade told me you two were excellent pilots."
It was now Jasmine's turn to blush as she chuckled from the compliment, knowing Wade's high praise for her and her sister's flying as she replied. "Well, I can't say that's wrong, Tina saved the day during the flight back here. We ran into an asteroid cluster while in the middle of a jump."
Wade patted Tina on her back as he quietly cheered his love on. "That's what I'm talking about, she's a wonder among the stars, I'm telling you!"
The group fell into an excited fit of laughter at the conversation, a few of the bar patrons taking notice of the bunch as they eventually ceased their joyful moment.
As everyone calmed down, Jasmine spoke up, intending to bring the discussion to another place. "Well, with all that said, it feels great to see you all here. It was such a terrible day after all those company folk showed up." Then, as she scanned the group of friends around her, she noticed someone else missing from this puzzle. "Hey, uh... is Ron here? Did he head off somewhere?"
The mood was quickly put down to a mournful aura as Wade and Tina glanced to the floor in sadness, Nathan and F giving uncomfortable postures as they awaited for someone to speak up on the matter.
Eventually, Wade was the one to open his mouth, breathing steadily as he tried to speak to Jasmine. "Um, Jasmine? Things, uh... really took a nose dive after we got captured. You think we could find a place to sit? It's a lot to talk about."
Looking to the four drones with concern, Jasmine eased her returning fear as she nodded to Wade in agreement. "...Sure, there's plenty of space at the table here." Pointing her arm to the table, which was surrounded by a U-shaped seating bench, Wade and his friends began to move to the table as Tina spoke up.
"I can get us some drinks for the talk, you all want anything?"
"Just some oil, thanks. "Wade answered as F and Nathan gave their own nods to Tina, the drone girl walking over to the bartender near the stage as she went to purchase some beverages.
Sitting down, Jasmine picked up her smartcomm from the table, glancing to it as she spoke up on her half-finished drink. "Heh, and to think I was drowning myself in this drag of a drink before. Probably have to find a different glass."
"Proxi-Vodka? Haven't seen you touch that since we lost Aunt Susan." Wade said solemnly as he examined Jasmine's drink, sighing as he reluctantly continued. "Well, maybe it can go for a few more sips."
Looking to the vodka, Jasmine nodded as she put her smartcomm in her pocket. "I figured, I didn't think this was gonna sound good."
"I wish it did." Wade replied as Tina walked back to the table, a plate of three oil glasses resting on her careful hand as she set it down.
After delivering the drinks, Tina took a seat next to Wade, holding his hand as Jasmine spoke up. "So, where do we start this terrible story?"
Wade gulped a bit as he began to recount the events that transpired today. "Well, it all started when Ron and I came back from the mining colony."

I remember there was this fairly popular story on Wattpad, circa 2010-2012, in the crime/thriller section. It stood out from a lot of the chaff because rather than being about a sexy mob boss, it was the origin story of a serial killer, told in a very mature way (or at least I thought so at the time).
All I remember is that it had a very dark green - or black with green elements - cover, featuring a butterfly (maybe pinned down?). It was set in suburban America. The narrative started in early childhood, and showed the male mc developing sadistic tendencies (I definitely remember him trapping small animals in the woods and dismembering them).
By the time I stopped reading, he was a teenageyoung man, and was very methodically planning to kidnap someone. I think he also had issues with his mother, but I don’t remember her being particularly abusive or anything.
I know I’m describing, like, every serial killer story ever, and that this is a long shot, but maybe someone who was active on the site during that period remembers?
I’m also pretty sure it won one of those genre awards, which is how I stumbled across it.

"But all human efforts, all the lavish gifts of the emperor, and the propitiations of the gods, did not banish the sinister belief that the conflagration was the result of an order. Consequently, to get rid of the report, Nero fastened the guilt and inflicted the most exquisite tortures on a class hated for their abominations, called Christians by the populace. Christus, from whom the name had its origin, suffered the extreme penalty during the reign of Tiberius at the hands of one of our procurators, Pontius Pilatus, and a most mischievous superstition, thus checked for the moment, again broke out not only in Judæa, the first source of the evil, but even in Rome, where all things hideous and shameful from every part of the world find their centre and become popular. Accordingly, an arrest was first made of all who pleaded guilty; then, upon their information, an immense multitude was convicted, not so much of the crime of firing the city, as of hatred against mankind."
"Mockery of every sort was added to their deaths. Covered with the skins of beasts, they were torn by dogs and perished, or were nailed to crosses, or were doomed to the flames and burnt, to serve as a nightly illumination, when daylight had expired. Nero offered his gardens for the spectacle, and was exhibiting a show in the circus, while he mingled with the people in the dress of a charioteer or stood aloft on a car. Hence, even for criminals who deserved extreme and exemplary punishment, there arose a feeling of compassion; for it was not, as it seemed, for the public good, but to glut one man's cruelty, that they were being destroyed.[15]"

What happened when I came out to my ex
So we were introduce by a Kendra Lee Taylor (filler generic name) (her at the time best friend), and she was Jessica Lilly Wilson (another filler generic name) . And this is what happened
Sooo. For one, I'm transgender. (Mtf), and I was with my abusive ex (cis woman), since literally high-school. We were together for a long time, I told her I would ".Wear women's clothes, and fantasize about being a woman. And for some reason dressing as one in private helped me cope sometimes." I also had expressed that sometimes it would cause me to get turned on (what the trans community later described as 'euphoria erections'). She didn't mind, atleast she said she didn't, she said she thought it was sexy, she liked a 'guy in touch with his feminine side' ,and she was bisexual anyways. I had coped with my gender issues (which i didn't fully realize were gender issues due to upbringing) , by just having these private escapes, often with her as an audience. She turned it more and more sexual though. Often whenever I was just relaxing in fem clothes she ALWAYS progressed it to sex. Now I had a bit of a 'being dominated' fetish I'm not gonna lie. But often she wanted me to do things I thought were really.gross. like making me sit in our sex juices, or sit with my own ejaculate on myself. She had a weird and honestly sick fetish for stuff like that. Specific to males in panties. And I kinda just coped with life with the mentality of " well I get to have the family the 'good Christian kid' and his high-school sweetheart. And my mother will one day look at grand babies and love the hell out of em, and that'll make all this worth it. Also I want to clarify, Post transition (so as a woman) I would be a lesbian. I've never been attracted to men. Another reason why my gender issues confused me so much. I also ALWAYS was just as honest with my partner (my abuser), as I was with myself at any given time in regards to this issue. So its not like I was a total closet case to my at the time gf. Sadly my mother got really sick. And no. She didn't make it. She went rather fast. It was devastating, tbh we had a more matriarchal system in our household, despite our father being a religious zealot. She ran the home, and he normally caved to what she wanted. I became so deeply depressed I was going to genuinely kill myself. Eventually one day I just told my partner, " I need to explore my fem side and figure out what this gender issue is, and I need to fully explore it, to see if my feminine side is just latent desires I couldn't act on when younger or if I was actually trans. " she VERY reluctantly , and angrily one day took me to get some clothes of my own. A padded bra, multiple women's underwear, and some thigh highs, and agreed to let me continue to borrow some of her stuff, until I got more items. We began exploring. Well I did, she kept trying to fetishize it, and when I told her no, or when I stayed dressed even after sex. She would get beyond huffy with me. She started getting more and more mean to me as I continued to explore in a non sexualized way. I eventually one night extremely scared and sobbing, told her I was trans and there was nothing anyone could do to fix it. So I braced for impact, expecting her to break up with me. I was astounded she said " There is nothing wrong with you, its the 2020s, and people are becoming more accepting now." I was terrified, knowing my dad was never gonna accept it, and my brothers were a coin toss, though I knew my.younger one most likely wouldn't care. And I didn't think my older one really would either but still. Hiwever as I continued in my path to coming out as a transwoman. She got more and more verbally and maliciously abusive, she sabotaged things I was beginning to try, she berated me constantly and even tried to delay my coming out. I eventually started dressing as a woman full time, except at work. And around my bio family. I started hrt in private, except my partner and her parents knew. (She was my abuser not my partner). She turned from a sweet borderline feminist, and fairly sensible liberal gal, to an irl reddit cringelord for lack of a better term. She started taking these really jacked up takes, that she never espoused before, and calling me names like " gender retard". I kept pleading with her to stop, that if she wanted to break up we just could, I'd need some time to find a place, but everything could be amicable (btw I was clear that this option always was on the table), and It was ok if she didn't wanna stay alot of couples split after a transition and that doesn't make you a bigot. But if you want to keep trying, please stop mistreating me. Several of my friends had wanted me to dump her for how she was acting. But I foolishly believed she loved me and was just having a hard time. But eventually she dumped me and at the worst time, I had lost a job , got a new job, and had to leave it for safety reasons and was basically financially dependent on her, despite wanting to leave but needing an exit strategy. She turned our new apartment (after we fled her parents house) into a horror house. I still to this day have nightmares of waking up on the couch with her about to walk through the door. The abuse was horrible. At one point comongntoca head with her brutally beating me black and blue. I didnt fight back. Within a few weeks I was on sidewalks. We had a savings account that I had helped build for over SEVEN years. And it was in her name. And she kept all of it. I was homeless and still technically am. But am housed. I don't know how to have peace. I see her when I close my eyes. I hear her insults in my head. And I'm STILL recovering from her financial abuse. What do I do? Please...

I don't really no where to start. I feel I've lost myself, consumed with anxiety and guilt and fear and regret and I fear, this new fear, that it's going to be the end of me if I don't start to get it out in some way, shape or form.
I guess I'll begin at the beginning...
​
I had a difficult childhood with fairly neglectful parents. A mother who openly expressed she never felt she really stepped into her mom shoes until she gave birth to my younger sister, who is three years younger than me. She is my only sibling. My mother told me when I was a kid that she "had to love me", but when my sister came around "she was finally a mother and over the moon", or simply "I always always wanted a girl". I'm not sure if this could be attributed to Post-partum depression, not that she ever researched that or was daignosed with it. That's probably just me trying to pardon my mother or something to the effect. She was 17 when she had me and I'm sure times were different then, my parents both were raised religious, father christian, mother mormon. Maybe their guilt. I ask myself why they brought me into this world if I wasn't wanted to begin with. Or, give me up for adoption to a set of guardians that would have loved me better. I know I was an accident and that's not what gets me down, I get that life be lifing and what happened happened. My difficulties stem from the feeling that my presence never gave my mother any sense of purpose, responsibility or love, or concern. She was emotionally unavailable to me virtually my entire life and I feel like that caused many issues later in my life and how I perceive myself and what I deserve. Coupled with the fact that my neglect met such extremes that I am frankly shocked that I was never picked up by child care services, maybe things were different in the 90's. I'm not sure, I was just a child then.
Much of my upbringing I didn't receive a lot of the things most people would consider essential. As a baby my crib was the sock drawer, then I grew large enough to have a closet, then slept on the floor of a walk-in closet, then I had a single bed from what I recall for maybe a year or maybe two years and I remember feeling metal springs poke me in the my ribs and I recall it being uncomfortable enough for me to move back to sleeping on the floor next to the ratty old used mattress my father found from who knows where. I remember feeling like I had to keep that secret, that the mattress they gave me was uncomfortable enough for me to sneak sleeping on the floor next to it. I think I was really afraid as coming across as ungrateful. My father came from a third world country, so the "gratefullness issue" was address frequently by my mom because "I don't have it even half as bad as what my father had to endure. And she was probably right. But it just silenced me ultimately, didn't put things into a mature context for me. I just learned that I can't complain about anything ever. Anyway, that trend didn't really change when I grew older. grade 9-10 I was sleeping on the living room couch so my sister could have privacy and a bedroom to exist in for herself - which I realize is important for an individual so I encouraged her to have the bedroom. Although I figured my parents expected me to do this for my sister regardless. I was okay with making sacrfices for those I love, it was instilled in me from a very very young age.
I do feel like my father took advantage of me in the form of labour as well, having to do custodial work with my father from 10pm to 3am, at two highschools I believe he was contracted, at that young age I honestly enjoyed just spending time with my father I think, working alongside him. When I was in grade 2 and 3 I had garbage bag duty for all the students bathrooms, and I remember loving snapping the bags open by rushing air into the bag and making it blow up like a baloon. I remember the scary unlit shadowy hallways that I couldn't perceive the ends of. No bodies to see, it felt eerie but exciting in a way - like it was a whole different world.
School was a different experience for me. It was very stressful, my parents had to move a few times a year because they would dodge rent or just generally be selfish with their dual income. They loved to party hard on the weekends. I remember wondering why my father did this to himself all the time. Hoping that we could spend quality time on a saturday, but he wouldnt get out of bed until just before dinner. I didn't really understand hangovers or alcoholism and how it meant our plans would get cancelled. I think I remember trying to wrap my head around willful self-poisoning for entertainment and how could that be more enjoyable then spending time with your son? I couldn't tell my mother why I was so sad about it. Why I didn't want to move again and again and again. Why I found it so difficult to make new friends everytime I had to switch schools. Why I couldn't just do one single full school year with one class of students. It was so hard and at the time, I didn't know anything different. It was so hard to make friends and I think it created this approach to making a "new family" of friends when I became a teenager and young adult.
​
I remember always wanting to be a "good kid". The "best kid" for my parents. I feel like my parents attached this moniker to me that made things harder for me to mature into a rounded adult later in life. My parents always flaunted me as this point of accomplishment, the accomplishment that I was "so extremely well behaved". I would strive to be super polite, and a good host, try to help out when my parents had their friends over, literally fill their cups when the opportunity presented themselves. I think I did this because I must have made the conclusion that if I was quiet, super polite, helpful and useful then I had value. That I could be loved. That I could earn this love from my parents through acts of service.
I remember feeling like my sister and I had extremely different experiences growing up. When my parents were at work I took care of her, cleaned and cooked. one time my sister told my mom to eff off when she was 5 and I was 8. My mind was blown. I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that she had the bravery and courage to defy my mother. Looking back, my sister was just mirroring the language she learned from my parents from whenever they fought. I remembering seriously worrying and getting scared that my father was going to belt her, or use the coat hanger, which was his preference with me. I feel like my mom was always checked out and I'm hurt that she allowed my father to take his rage out on me. That my mom could care less about me being beat, but never my sibling. It was very confusing and difficult for me to process. Not that I really processed it much as a kid. I honestly just wanted to be loved and be the best child possible. Honestly though, 'm seriously so glad that my sister was spared all of that complete non-sense. I don't wish that on anyone in the world. There were some punishments where he would walk in and tell me to pull my pants down without explanation. I have memories of tearing up and saying I didn't know why this was happening, asking what I did wrong and he would just remind me that if I resisted then I would get it worse and to hurry up and get ready. My father has since apologized. I think it is how he was raised. I didn't know what to say in response, but I told him I loved him and it's in the past. But I don't know if I was being honest when I said that. My mother would still gaslight me to this day if any of this became topic of discussion, not that I'm guessing. A year ago she told me that much of my pained memories were false and this never happened. My father on the other hand typically stays pensive and unchallenging.
It seems so damned crazy writing all of this out, it feels like a heartbreaking novel and not my life at all. But it was and is my life. I have difficulties opening up and expressing my feelings and advocating for myself when the moments are true and appropriate to do so. I know it's the healthier way to communicate, but I was literally taught to stay quiet and be useful. Fast forward 20-25 years and I'm going to be 35 and I feel like just ending it all. Every year my birthday passes and I'll get a text from my family happy birthday. But they know I'm in a difficult place, they know I miss them, they know I love them and forgive them, I try the high road whenever I can but I just don't see the point anymore. they won't celebrate my life and existence, but they'll throw family gatherings for each other, birthdays, christmas, fathers day and mothers day.
On that note, another mother's day has recently passed and my mother never invited me over, I texted my father three weeks in advance in hopes of securing a time to come over and celebrate my mothers life with my family as a family. I felt particularly stung this mother's day when they celebrated and didn't text or call to invite me over. I live in the same small town so it's easy to hop over. I literally live three blocks away.
Anyway, my mother was diagnosed with cancer over christmas this year and I have been worrying for my mother ever since and thinking about my life with her and the mortal coil and the finite mount of time I may have with her. I feel like there is a large empty part in my heart that wishes my mother and I could go grab a coffee together. She can show me her ipad app art that she has been really excited about for a couple years now. She loves showing off her digital art and I love seeing her joy and how proud she is about her art. I just don't know why she couldn't feel the same for me, her only son. Maybe I'm just a her dissapointment.
I dropped out of highschool and left the family home when I was 16. I just couldn't work for my dad during the night AND go to highschool AND socialize. Something had to give. Unfortunately it was highschool and my parents didn't really care about that at all. They were just... fine with it. they supported my sister through college and she was fortunately able to graduate with a veterinary degree of sorts. she still lives with them now as she pays off her student debt, but I left and travelled and worked on music for over a decade so I admit that I was entirely out of the family picture for some time. But as I get older, not wanting to repeat the mistakes of my parents I fear that that is precisely what's been creeping up in my life.
five years ago I met the absolute most wonderful human being and I am so lucky to have my partner in my life. She and I are engaged now and set to be married. I hoped that the news would overwhelm my parents with excitement and joy. Maybe a facebook post about their son, share some family pictures or something. But they did nothing at all. I think they showed off pictures of the trip to Mexico that week instead.
I just don't really understand how I'm this unworthy of their love and unfortunately now I'm realizing that illusion that I am unworthy has infected my relationship with my fiance. I love her so much but when I can't fix everything in her life I feel like I am the failure and the guilt overhelms me so much and the guilt is such a strong motivator for me, and it usually motivates me into becoming the biggest doormat in the world. I've never worked harder for a relationship or invested this much energy. I feel she deserves it. But I don't advocate for myself. So I build up resentment. Like I clean the house constantly and work and help bail out of her bad spending habits and cover her rent without question and this and that. To be clear, she doesn't take advantage of me and that's not how I feel about it. But I do let this annoyance build up inside of me because I don't know how to communicate my feelings in a healthy way. I'm scared I'll lose the person if I speak up, or I'll be gaslit. Again, that's not my partner that gaslights. That's just generally how I feel I'll be treated if I open up with people. It all goes back to my childhood. It's affected every friendship and work relationship I've had since.
When I was 20-ish, 15 years years ago I did the classic, "seek the relationship that most comfortably fits into the patterns you experienced with your parents". And so I trapped myself in a horrific and extremely damaging relationship with a girl I'll call K. She has undiagnosed bipolaBPD, she would never seek help but self-medicate. She ended up in the hospital maybe four times for self-harming and this where she was considered to have these diseases by a few doctors on different occasions. Anway, it turned into a relationship of abuse and it wasn't exactly new territory for me. I was ashamed in that 8 year relationship. I wanted out so bad, but she would threaten to unalive everytime I tried to get away. Of course, some weeks would go by and i would get my hair pulled out of my scalp, a knife waving in the air in front of my face, spat in the face, kicked, punched, bit, a pot of freshly boiled ramen soup thrown in my face and eyes. What's worse is that I seeked police intervention on multiple occasions. Every single time the police visited, they talked me out of pressing charges, asking me " well if she doesn't have any place to go, then do you have a place you can stay at, or the shelter?". twice they talked me out of a restraining order, that legal proceedings would take forever. Adn de-escalting me from wanting to take measures to ensure my safety because she may end up on the street as a result. To this day, I absolutely wish I advocated for myself here and pushed for a restraining order. I'm so mad at myself for not doing so.
Unfortunately, fast forward a couple years into that relationship and one evening everything would finally hit the fan. I told her to never touch me again and I absolutely meant it. she had just yanked out the largest chunk of my hair to date, to the point where my scalp was bleeding and I could even see epidermal matter still attached to the folicle ends that were in her clenched fingers. My head bled a bit and I pushed her off of me. Telling her that I needed to leave, that I was walking to my secure jam space just a 10 minute walk away. It had a leather couch in a cold concrete basement, but hey at least I would be safe for the night and I could play my drums and try and blow off this anxiety and fear in a way that was safe albeit very noisy.
She hated that I wanted to leave and convinced herself I would never return. To be fair, that was the energy I had. I never wanted to see her face again and have her name on my lips after that night. So her tactic was simple, to threaten me with calling the cops and tell them that I violently pushed her. I called her bluff and said "go ahead and I will just tell them everything you've done - yet again. All I am doing is going to the space to sleep, I said, maybe play drums." She called the cops and told them she was pushed into a wall, and she felt very unsafe. Which yes, I did push her off me when she attacked me. In the past, I tried various tactics, to run away didn't work, she just always chased me down. Or sometimes I would just sit there while she was violent against me and I just "dissapeared" kind of like how I would when my dad used his coat hanger. This time, I just pushed her off of me, I was done with the relationship at that point and we both knew it. Anyway, she called the police, they arrived and when questioned I told them that I pushed her off of me in self-defence. I was drinking that night and it didn't help my case as I was arrested without question that evening and I was charged on the spot without question with domestic assault. It devasted me. I asked the police how this could happen lawfully. That she is an abuser and there is a history of this multiple times. That I've requested a restraining order. They explained that in quebec the laws are a little different and in the case domestic cases, if there is a male aggressor against a female, then the male is automatically charged to the fullest extent. I was absolutelyu devasted by this. I can't tell you the amount of fear and anger I felt in that jail cell that night.
I feel so incredibly betrayed by the justice system, keep in mind, this is law that from what I understand is only in Quebec, I was there for music at the time with an old friend whom I am no longer in contact with. I don't think the rest of the country operates under law in this way. Now I appreciate that they are vigilant about woman abuse victims, but the law shouldn't be this absurdly biased. It just doesnt feel just and fair to me. Covert abusers shouldn't be able to take advantage of the justice system in this way, but it happens.
It was an awful experience, I was homeless for a couple months afterward, not allowed to retrieve my belongings, so I lost all of my life "crap" that I had built up, years of hardwork and investment. I mention this because I realize later in life that I have intense collecting behaviour. maybe as a self-soothing behaviour. But I love building up collections of my hobby stuff as I have many and I feel they keep me regulated and it's a form of therapy for me. In any case, I lost everything when I left that whole situation. It sucks, although ultimately it's clearly best that I got out of that dreadful circumstance. I flew across the country to my hometown and to be closer to my family and old friends from highschool. It's quite a small town mind you.
Unfortunately, my classic tendency to hide and not advocate for myself created an opportunity for my abusive ex. A year following those events, despite me assuring her that I had to block her because I flew away to start a new life provinces away. That I wished her the best. That I even promised I would never tell a soul what she did to me. Not to mention that unfortunately we live in a society where nobody really has an ounce of sympathy for a male abuse victim. I had every intention to keep that promise, but she couldn't trust me ultimately. I think her logic was maybe to just beat her ex to "the punch". Kill or be killed or something like that. I don't live my life like that so I don't really know what her plan was. But she made a bunch of posts on various social media platforms for all of our mutual friends, music friends, coworkers etc. that the relationship was over and she was free. That she got out of a cycle of abuse and she was ready to start a new chapter of her life. She never used my name, just that she was glad she got away from her toxic and abusive ex once and for all.
It was exactly like that night a year prior, she threatened me with this outcome she could design for me, and I called her on her bluff by saying I was still going to block her and I can't control what she does with her life or how she conducts herself, but that I was out and to never contact me ever again. She made me regret that decision.
The posts she made that day got so many likes and support from so many of our mutual friends, even musician mates that were closer to me than her, and it absolutely destroyed me, not just internally but socially. I no longer make music anymore and it hurts to go outside into the world because it feels like everybody sees me as this monster. And still I don't have a voice to inform anyone otherwise - except my family and my fiance. I have no friends anymore. They all left my life with the belief that I did all of these horrible and awful things.
I just don't trust people anymore as a result and it's just caused me to become extremely bitter and depressed. I ruminate on the past, maybe in attempts to fix the past so I can move on. So I could do better, so I don't have to punish myself for my mistakes in the past. But it just reopens every emotional wound I have and they never get a chance to heal. That was maybe 7 years ago now and I'm still replaying these events in my head every single morning for about 1 - 2 hrs. Then I go completely numb for the majority of the rest of the day, shallow breathing, and the mildest sadness that mascarades as fatigue and disinterest.
There are some days where I seriously fear for the future and I just feel like every cruel soul will inherit this earth and that's the future, they built this world of suffering and they deserve to inherit it. Their toxic flag staked so deep into the earth in reclamation. The future isn't holding any seats for people like us. I'm so heartbroken and defeated. I feel like white-wolfing my fiance because she deserves better than this traumatized person that hides from the world. I feel like giving her my collection of collections so she can sell it all off and pay off her 10k of credit debt, then with this act of kindness I can go out not feeling like a guilt-ridden defeated loser. And leave on a high note.
When I'm alone, I get trapped in these ruminating cycles and it's the angriest I ever get. It's reached the point where I feel like I am actually reliving all this past trauma every morning and I can't do it anymore. I just feel like I am so at the end of whatever this ride was.
I don't have any friends anymore and everyone but my fiance thinks I am a monster and it's just unbearable.
I just don't even know. I am even afraid that someone will read this post and suss through all of this and make the connection. Then I'll get another new email or random throwaway account with an insta message that says "I told you you would never be able to get over me. You can move on, but you will never be able to erase the past. Never truly. You know where to find me."
It's haunting and it's poisonous. I just feel haunted and poisoned and I don't know if there is a snake oil potent enough or antitode true enough to get me back to the generous, lighthearted, energetic kid I once was.
To whoever was willing to read through all of this, thank you for hearing me out. I don't know what advice I am even asking for here. I'm hoping just speaking this out into the world in some way can alleviate this misery. I don't know.

It's a tough one
A few months back I heard a song. Here is the details from my memory: Singer: male singer Hint on song title: possibly starts with F Clue on song melody: during lyrics, it kinda sounds like "am I wrong" by Nico and vinz Hint on background music: very much similar to the background of "one last time" by ariana grande (possibly the strongest clue but still difficult to search with)
I listened to this song in one of the radio stations of Los Angeles. I searched with time the song was played in the radio station website but this was never showed. Have been trying since but no luck 😞

...even when it has nothing to do with the content they make.
I like horror genre stuff, especially analog horror, ARGs, video games, etc. and I usually enjoy watching YTers that coveexplain analog horror series both to cover things I might have missed, get different perspectives/theories, and so on. And it's all fine and dandy, except that some popular YTers in the field feel the need to bring up that they're Christian. Constantly. And it's so off-putting, but there's no point trying to point out that it's off-putting or out of place because they're guaranteed to just respond with "Well it's my belief and I won't be silenced! You're trying to prevent me from spreading the Truth of Jesus Christ!"
It's the whole "religion is like a penis" thing. Great to have one, great to be proud of it, but please stop whipping it out in public. I have no problem with your penis. It's great. I just don't want to see it. I don't want to hear you talk about it. I'm here for your horror analysis videos and let's plays.
The worst is when they cover a series that has religious themes or when the horror has to do with demons or Satanic cults. Then they go full God Warrior and have to talk about their beliefs and how they're not afraid because they've got Jesus, or they get absolutely offended and have to derail the whole video to bitch about it. I essentially had to stop watching one YTer after they were doing a Let's Watch that had a horror short film in which a character threw away her rosary, and he stopped the video to throw a fit about how awful it was she was giving up on her faith and deserved to have what happened to her and so on. Just made me lose all respect for him in that moment. Stopped watching another popular horror YTer's streams because he'd talk about Bible shit constantly inbetween waiting for videos/games to load.
It's not just annoying, it's borderline triggering. They have no respect for their audience members who survived religious trauma. Oh, you don't want a heaping helping of Jesus with your horror videos? Go watch someone else, then! I'm a loud and proud Christian and I won't be silenced!
Come on, man. Just let me get my spooks and giggles in peace.

Just warning y'all, this is gonna be really long... I'm trying to give as much context as I can for better understanding. And another warning, I mention some things about weight and feeling insecure about it. Not anything too bad, but just so you know. Anyways. I'm AFAB, and I've used the label genderfluid since 2019, but now as I'm getting older and allowing myself to explore my gender identity without feeling ashamed, I don't know if I'm really genderfluid, or transgender, or what. I just would like to know what label this sounds like to y'all? And I KNOW I don't Have to use a label, I just want to know or get some other peoples thoughts on it, because I'm really confused and don't know what is really going on with me. So basically, I've been identifying as a woman for a long time, since it's my assigned gender at birth. But in 2019, I really just learned about LGBTQ and all of the labels and meanings, and I found that Genderfluid fit me best. That some days I felt like a boy, some days I felt like a girl, some days I felt like neither, or both, whatever. But I think I kinda forgot about it, and I just identified as a woman again. And then in 2020, I thought I might be trans, as I wanted to be everything male. I wanted to dress that way, look that way, have a different name and haircut and pronouns and all of that. And I was ALOT happier that way, and I felt more comfortable, but also not at the same time because of my chest. I've wanted a binder for a VERY long time, and I didn't have one till just THIS year, and so whenever I dressed how I wanted to in 2020, I just looked like a guy with a big bust and it repulsed me, so I really just tried to be male online with my friends mostly? Since I didn't look like one in real life, I felt like I was embarrassing myself, y'know? :( And in 2021, I just went by agender, because I didn't feel like being anything. But also that year, I was really depressed, so I think maybe I just didn't wanna have to stress about my gender too. Anyways, in 2023 I went into a relationship with somebody, and I was identifying as a woman at that point, so I kinda subconsciously hyperfeminized myself so I could be their "perfect" girlfriend, even though they didn't want me to do that. I kinda tried way too hard that year 💀 We broke up in November that year, and after that, I've been exploring my gender again. I realized there wasn't really a need to be so feminine, and I started to like Harry Potter for the first time! My favorite character was Ron Weasley, and I started to really like his character, and the actor himself. I really admired the way he dressed when he was younger, and at that point, I decided that I should start dressing the way I REALLY want to. So I got the money for new clothes, AND A BINDER! And I finally got to dress the way I've wanted for so long, and I was so happy. It was the happiest and best I've ever felt and looked in so long. I felt just like a boy. But, I also felt dysphoric for the first time in a while, because I had my long dark brown hair still. I didn't feel like I really looked like a boy enough because of it. And I debated cutting my hair, but I thought I was just really liking that Rupert Grint guy too much, and I only was acting that way because of him. Sometimes I really like a character or celebrity and I kind of accidentally subconsciously take on some things that they do, and the way they dress. But I eventually completely stopped liking Harry Potter, and I still wanted that haircut, so I did it. And I really tried to give myself a gender neutral/androgynous haircut, so if I felt like a girl again, I wouldn't regret the haircut. I had that haircut, and I dressed the way I wanted to, and I felt incredible. It's the most confident I've ever felt in my life, but then my hair started to grow out, and I looked more girly again, and I couldn't take it. So I had another haircut, this time inspired by Chino Moreno, the lead singer of my favorite band ever, Deftones. I got hairgel, and now I go out with my spiked hair, baggy jeans with boxers showing, baggy band shirt, my sneakers, and a ton of bracelets and cuffs. This is JUST how I have ALWAYS wanted to dress. I feel like a boy, and I'm so happy. But now I'm really getting to the point now, that's all of the context I had to say first. I've recently caught myself thinking "I can't wait to get top surgery one day." Which, I am DEFINITELY doing. But then I started thinking... what's next after that? Am I just gonna be me with a flat male looking chest, or am I gonna want to go more into it? (As in taking testosterone.) because I also catch myself dreaming about the day I'm old enough to take it. But does that mean I'm trans then? Because, I do like the idea of looking like a woman... But I also don't at all at the same time. I only like the idea od looking like a girl, I guess. Like a young girl. (Because I grew up as a little young girl who wore dresses and bows and did sweet things, I just feel most comfortable being a girl that way, related to my childhood. I don't like the idea of being a girl grown up getting a job, a relationship, a LIFE, ETC.) It's really confusing. And, my mom got nervous when I brought up top surgery though (and she 100% supports me though) because she was worried I would regret it when I do feel like a woman again. And I think that even if I do feel like a woman again one day, I can just be a woman with a flat chest ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯. But also, for the first time maybe ever in my life, I've started to get insecure over my weight. I think that when I was identifying/presenting myself as a woman, I just accepted that I was a bit big, because I was curvy and women are curvy sometimes and that was it. I've always been a little insecure over it, but I've also always been very scared to lose weight, because I'm scared that it'll go out of control and I'd get an eating disorder or something. Which is probably just a really weird thought, but I worry about alot of weird things. Anyways, I think the reason it's really bothering me now is because I want to look like a man. Not a big curvy woman with boobs and hips and love handles and a butt, I want to be a fully flat man. I'm flat in the chest at least with my binder, but I feel disgusted whenever I have to see my hips or behind though. Not necessarily because they're big, but because I'm supposed to be a man. It makes me feel so dysphoric. I just don't understand what is going on with me. Am I just a heavily confused genderfluid person? Am I really just a girl?? Am I transgender, and I only liked being a girl when I was younger, but not as an adult??? Is that even a thing????? I just need advice, or opinions, or somebody to help out and tell me what labels this could be, or what is wrong with me, or something. Please. Thanks in advance, and I'm sorry for the very very long post.
TL;DR. I don't know if I am a transgender male, or just a really confused genderfluid person.

Caution: Long Post
The Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. is without doubt and still is to this day one of the most influential, powerful, and iconic figures in American history due to his steadfast and nonviolent commitment in the fight for Civil Rights, Equality, and Justice during Jim Crow Segregation in the United States. The highlight of his career as an activist came in 1963 in which he delivered his famous "I Have a Dream" speech in front of Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C. in which he envisioned a nation in which his children will be judged not by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character. This resulted in the Civil Rights Act of 1964 to be passed. Even after his assassination in 1968, his legacy inspired many similar Civil Rights Movements around the world.
Today, Martin Luther King, Jr. is hailed by both sides of the American political sphere as a beacon of hope on how to fight for justice and equality for all during turbulent times. But it's the Conservatives who constantly claim that they truly support him and follow his dream, especially in modern times and they've expressed it in a rather whitewashed and partisan fashion. The most obvious being their use of his "I Have a Dream" speech by quoting the one line that has often been cherry-picked and misinterpreted quite a lot in which they judge people not by skin but by their character. The main reason they do this is to give them the appearance that they are colorblind as their way of opposing racism. And in doing so, they consistently criticize Liberals of trying to divide the country into special interest groups and promote favoritism. As a result, they always claim that Dr. King is a Republican, let alone would've been one in this era given his views, along with the fact that he was a Christian. His niece, Alveda King even emphasized it herself.
Some of the ways that Conservatives try to supposedly live up to Dr. King's "colorblind" dream is by opposing supposed "Wokeness", Critical Race Theory, and the practice of Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion everywhere. They also express it by opposing Affirmative Action and the use of racial quotas when it comes to applying for schools, universities, and jobs because they believe it causes Reverse Discrimination. In terms of nonviolence, Conservatives express their disapproval of the Black Lives Matter movement. On the basis of Christianity, Conservatives believe that Dr. King supported a fixed moral code as indicated in his Letters from Birmingham Jail since he led with love and not racial hatred by changing the lives of people and not the laws itself, along with the notion of self-sufficiency. Seeing all this, it seems like Conservatives are really desperate to prove how much America has progressed in this post-racial world in order to debunk accusations that it isn't a racist country and that's why they always prop up Dr. King by claiming that they follow his dream and will continue to do so. Well.....up until now.
During this year's Martin Luther King Day, a string of prominent Conservative activists and organizations suddenly turned on him. Starting off with Charlie Kirk of the youth Conservative movement Turning Point USA, who launched a blistering anti-MLK campaign in which he supposedly dispelled the alleged myths surrounding his popularity. He accused Dr. King of being a "bad person" and that his "sainthood will cause Black voters to realize it's being used against them to suppress the individual." He even went further by stating that "we made a huge mistake when we passed the Civil Rights Act in the 1960s" accusing it as "a way to get rid of the First Amendment". A while ago, the organization marketed the Conservative image of Dr. King when they sold $55 T-Shirts with his name as well as stickers of him with the words "Let Freedom Ring". Kirk was later joined by the Daily Wire's Matt Walsh who accused him of being a "communist". In fact, he railed against Dr. King a few years ago by accusing him of being a Womanizer, Adulterer, Plagiarizer, etc. Coming after Walsh was Human Events editor, conspiracy theorist, and fellow Turning Point USA alumna Jack Posobiec, who labeled Dr. King "a God of the Left" and stating that "the real legacy of the 1960s was enshrining Racial Discrimination and Race Consciousness into the Federal Bureaucracy." And finally, a popular Conservative Twitter account called "EndWokeness" called Dr. King "a Racial Marxist" because he "did not support a Colorblind Meritocracy" after it cited his quote on Wealth Distribution. What's even worse is that even non-White Conservatives hate him. Two examples include a commentator named Vince Everett Ellison and former football player and sports columnist, Jason Whitlock. The latest editions to the lineup of Black Guilt Conservatives, they railed against Dr. King and the passing of the Civil Rights by stating that they worsened the Black community by drifting them away from God into "Democratic Dependency". They even accused him of the same crimes as Walsh did.
With the sudden change in tone and emphasis from the Right against Dr. King, you have to ask yourself why they're doing this and what caused them to believe this way. And this is not an extremist fringe of the Right that some would expect to hear from. All of these are Mainstream Right-Wing Figures who have direct lineage to the GOP, including the current presidential nominee, Donald Trump. That's as Establishment you can get. Their remarks have been criticized by a lot of people from both sides and surprisingly by some Black Conservatives. One of them was Pastor Darrell Scott, a former faith advisor of Trump, who these days, is one of a few Black Conservatives who has been calling out other Black Conservatives for tearing down their own race in order to elevate their status among others, a very notorious habit of them. He criticized Kirk for inspiring a Hitler Youth. Another was Kimberly Klacik, who in 2020, gained viral for her campaign video stating that Black Lives don't matter to Democrats when she was running for Maryland's 7th Congressional District following the death of civil rights leader, Elijah Cummings, who was the incumbent. She criticized Kirk for his remarks stating that his rhetoric will prevent Blacks from voting Republican. Even with that said, there have been instances in which Conservatives themselves have questioned the Civil Rights Act and many of them have been pretty negative. If you check out other Conservative websites and especially here on Reddit, many of their criticisms echo the same sentiments as those Pundits stating that it was unconstitutional and that in infringed on the First Amendment, particularly the Notion of Freedom of Association.
That being said, there is some silver lining to this. Now, that they exposed themselves for what they really of think Dr. King, I think it's time for them to admit that they never really liked him in the first place, let alone understood who he really was and what he really stood for. In fact, they never really liked him at all. All they did was whitewash him and cherry-pick his ideas and speech for own Partisan Agenda. Dr. King constantly talked about the notion of Black Pride and campaigned about the need for Reparations. He also supported Affirmative Action stating in 1965 that "a Society that has done something special against the Negro for hundreds of years must now do something special for the Negro. Dr. King realized that our society was created in a way that managed to disadvantage the many for the benefit the few, and that America's Racial Hierarchy was connected to its Class Hierarchy. He also had political beliefs that manifested through both Racial Reconciliation and Concrete Policy Changes that could help restructure and benefit a divided and unequal nation. This is the reason why he referred to himself as a Democratic Socialist as he wanted a "Radical Redistribution of Economic and Political Power". In fact, he argued that true Equality can only be achieved, not just through legal rights, but through an equal distribution of resources. This is evident when he said “Call it democracy, or call it democratic socialism, but there must be a better distribution of wealth within this country for all God’s children.” This is the exact vision that Vermont Independent Senator Bernie Sanders believed in. After all, he did participate in the March on Washington in 1963. In regards to Police Brutality, while Dr. King opposed violent protest, he did acknowledge that a riot is the language of the Unheard and that it came from a place of Desperation. In fact, in his "I Have a Dream" Speech, he stated that Blacks could "never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the Victim of the Unspeakable Horrors of Police Brutality." After all, he was hounded by the FBI, was called a Communist, broke the law in protest of race-based Segregation and Violence, was thrown in jail, advocated Protests and Sit-Ins, opposed White Rule of Society, and was assassinated for his Race and his views on Race. Regarding the quote about the Content of Character from said speech, Dr. King's daughter, Bernice King stated that using solely that quote diminishes the purpose of the entire speech because her father's dream and work included "eradicating Racism, not ignoring it."
If anything, this goes to show that is Dr. King were around today, he would be heavily criticized for being Woke, politically correct, a Communist, a Race Hustler, and a member of the Radical Left. And we all know that the Right hates those ideologies passionately. But here's the thing, he never considered himself a Democrat, let alone a Republican. He was an Independent as he felt that both parties are the same. And reducing his legacy to a single quote diminishes the gains that he fought for and believed in. This especially goes to a lot of Conservatives out there who claim to follow his lead using that quote because they interpret them in a way that benefits them today than how he meant them back then. For you to claim that he didn't care about Skin Color is like saying Susan B. Anthony didn't care about Gender. And to those Conservatives who now hate him, including Black, I hope you're OK with people getting treated unfairly, including your own. Who knew being seen as an Equal is a Negative in your eyes.

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1. The size comparison between a female and male Kodiak bear
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I’m a 15 year old (male) aspiring singeproducer, and I just finished my song and it’s been my dream to share something like this with the world. I wanna try my best on Tik Tok, but I’m not sure how to make the video. Any creative tips?

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I went on a walk earlier today and was having a conversation that turned to the facets of success that the Zen tradition has over, well, everyone else. Here's me putting some organization to aspects of the conversation that we touched upon.

1000 Years of Recorded Conversation

This number is not an exageration or hyperbole, but a reasonable approximation of the longevity of the Zen conversation.
The earliest records of Zen conversation aka. Dharma combat aka. koans aka public cases we have come from Dunhuang and involve an heir to Bodhidharma named "Yuan" which places them sometime around the middle of the 6th century. Here's an excerpt:

6th Century

Dharma Master Chih saw Dharma Master Yuan on the street of butchers.
Dharma Master Chih asked, "Do you see the butchers slaughtering the sheep?
Dharma master Yuan said, "My eyes are not blind. How could I not see them?"
Dharma master Chih said, "Master Yuan, you are saying you see it!"
Master Yuan said, "You are seeing it on top of seeing it!"

The thread of Zen conversation continues on in these records. Some of these texts come from the conversations that dedicated record-keepers transcribed or unnamed Preceptors copied down and were later compiled. These records of Zen conversation were themselves annotated and conversed with by Zen Masters in subsequent generations thereby producing monumental books of instruction and practical guidance like Wansong's Book of Serenity, Wumen's Gateless Checkpoint, or Linquan's Empty Valley Collection.
Following the desolation and plunder wrought on by the Mongol invasion, the restrictive religious policies imposed by the Buddhists, and the subsequent rise of milleniarian cults with their own quasi-theocratic social agenda, the Zen conversation starts to fade in China.
We have records in China extending to around 1400. The aptly named translation by Cleary entitled "Zen Under the Gun" is evidence of this. The following is an excerpt from a Zen Master that came from Korea to study under a Chinese Zen Master and would carry on the tradition of preaching the Zen dharma to Emperor's.

14th Century

In 1347, on the sixth day of the third month, the emperor of the Great Yuan invited T'aego to Fengen, serving the Imperial Benevolance Zen Temple. After salutations to his majesty, T'aego went up to the teaching hall, pointed to the main temple gate, and said:
"The Great Path has no gate: where do all of you people intend to enter it? Bah! The universal gate of perfect penetration is wide open."
At the buddha shrine T'aego said: "Two thousand years ago, I was you. Two thousand years later, you are me. It has almost leaked out."
Then he bowed three times.

Almost.

1000 Years of Agro-Academe Egalitarian Communes

Agro-Academe

The Zen records are famous for taking place almost entirely on large agricultural complexes where agricultural as well as scholarly work were the lifeblood of maintaing the communities self-sufficiency. While this aspect of the Zen tradition had gone almost entirely unremarked upon in the Zen records due to its sheer normalcy it very much stands in contrast to the economic and social systems of organization that have risen (and fallen) throughout the rest of the world such as Manorialism, Serfdom, Capitalism, and Communism.
The agricultural aspects of the Zen communes are evidenced in the countless cases that take place in the context of the community engaged in performing agricultural work and the academic aspects of the communes are evidenced both in the cases involving someone reading something, referencing something they read, asking about something they read, as well as the countless literary and historical references that Zen Masters weave into the books of instruction.
The academic-LITERATE aspect of Zen communities has been deliberately misrepresented by Dogenists that cannot handle writing at a high school level about anything Zen Masters said despite claiming affiliation. It's a really sore subject for them.

Egalitarian

Zen Masters: No sexism. No racism. No special authorities in funny hats.
Foyan:

If one says, “I understand, you do not,” this is not [Zen]. If one says, “You understand, I do not, “ This is not [Zen] either. In the Teachings it says, “This truth is universally equal, without high or low—this is called unexcelled enlightenment.” My perception is equal to yours, and your perception is equal to mine.

Unlike religious traditions such as Buddhism, Christianity, and Islam (to name a few...) there is no tradition in Zen of affirming a belief in the "spiritual inferiority" of women or asserting that they should conform themselves to any fixed role in social relations with men.
The dharma-interviews involving women Zen Masters are some of the most intense and edge-of-your-seat one's out there. The one's we have translated records of are:

• Iron Grinder Liu
  
• Miaozong
  
• Mrs. Pang
  
• [Unnamed old women]
  

The failure of women's Zen voices to be preserved in equal proportion to their male counterparts they were engaged with is almost entirely due to the larger social mileau of sexism and erasure of women in non-subserviant roles from the public records that an extremely patriarchial society like China pursued with zeal at the time.

Commune

Unlike the phony kind of "work" of repeating religious apologetics, playing dress-up, or saying a few words over corpses that Priests while charging money from the faithful day-in, day-out--everyone in the Zen communities labored alongside everyone else and Zen Masters made a point of it to not exempt themselves from that.
The famous "No work, no eat" comes from Baizhang. It's nothing revolutionary in the context of Zen, but it sets the world on fire for just about everybody else.

Baizhang, the Chinese Zen master, used to labor with his pupils even at the age of eighty, trimming the gardens, cleaning the grounds, and pruning the trees. The pupils felt sorry to see the old teacher working so hard, but they knew he would not listen to their advice to stop, so they hid away his tools.
That day the master did not eat. The next day he did not eat, nor the next. "He may be angry because we have hidden his tools," the pupils surmised. "We had better put them back."
The day they did, the teacher worked and ate the same as before. In the evening he instructed them: "No work, no food."

1000 Years of Stability

As an undercurrent to the Zen conversation are certain...lifestyle choices...that everyone has to observe before they can meaningfully participate. They're choices that everyone already recognizes are necessary in certain contexts and lifestyles that are overwhelmingly associated with healthy outcomes in those observing them consistently. The undercurrent to conversation in Zen is known as the "Lay" Precepts.
Lay Precepts:

1. No lying
   
2. No stealing
   
3. No murder
   
4. No abuse of sex.
   
5. No intoxicating.
   

Observing this stuff won't neccesarily make anyone rich, famous, sexy, or funny. But that isn't anything Zen promises anyone to begin with anyway.
In their tradition, observing these kept the conversation flowing for a thousand years.
Why would anyone come to /Zen just to avoid talking about Zen?