Surely the world isn’t crazy..

15% of the whole planet is what Google says the average is of folks living with a mental disorder. What they don’t say is things like thinking the South seceded for States’ Rights is crazy. Not to mention, imagine the world view for a second of someone who thinks slaves were a minor issue, aren’t they crazy? I don’t think Google is including them.

What about the boycott folks?

I tend not to use a company when I learn what evil shits they are, I don’t have any hopes of putting them out of business in a fascist regime, but it makes me feel bad to see their name in my house and know what they do. So I try not to feel bad. The best I can hope for, but if I was a boycotter…

These poor saps get on social media putting other folks on their side down for trying to get the cheapest brand. They may not even realize they themselves have other brands in the office, kitchen, garage that do worse than what they’re preaching about. But their war isn’t for environment, equality, or justice. These folks fight for narrative. They have to. Because if you realize how ludicrous it is to hope a company goes under from a boycott, you realize we have been misled on that. Some companies even bounce back better! The gap in income means they have a lot more money now. We have less. We don’t have leverage in that situation anymore. Make them unpopular, sure, but bitching out other folks online for eating at the wrong chicken shack? Are you nuts? What if you need those folks? Why did you lose them? A sandwich? What billionaire did that hurt?

The US Mail micro targets, as well as all the campaigns online too.

“Google, tell me about micro targeting and the US Mail.”

Paxton Talarico mail

I looked this up after getting Talarico and Paxton for senator flyers, 4 in one day. Seemed too dumb to be an accident. It wasn’t. It was supremely individualized targeting from both parties. I do not have a phone. I use email on an iPad, talk on a forum site sometimes. This blog. Some music. No social media. So they turned to mail! lol.

Mail has a lot to offer. They will even deliver it to houses with no internet. They can make the thing look official on fancy paper, convincing. Authenticity is easier to feel when you can hold it. Plus, unless you throw it away, it is always lying around, occupying some space in your brain. Could be what it’s after. How in the hell do we know? It’s not like we can trust anyone who sends us anything.

I found a website in researching these handouts from these Texas candidates, and I found some interesting things. The website is called paidforby.info. On this tool, you can scan your flyers, leaflets, campaign ads, and it will tell you about the money behind it. This is refreshing to someone like me who was taught the now-forgotten phrase, “follow the money” in school. On a Paxton flyer, I noticed they get 20 million (state politics, mind you) from Elon Musk, and the next “donor” is at 500 bucks or so. I am anxious to learn why these things are so silly. I bet I won’t like it, but I am anxious to learn it.

With mental illness tho..

My point with mental illness is we have to stop calling being tricked or brainwashed mentally ill if we aren’t going to call the predatory profiteers mentally ill too. That’s pretty much the whole world, thanks, Google.

Maybe check yourself.

I am not ill for thinking folks want to watch me and observe me to cater specific messages to me. I am not ill for trying to aggregate news sources with different brands and locations to try to get a clearer picture. I am not ill for wanting to use my own mind and judgement on art projects. I am not wrong to get my feelings hurt when folks no longer wish to speak to me. I am not crazy because I don’t want social media informing my view on what is outside my front door; I’ll just open it. I am not wrong to not want to talk to robots. I am not crazy to be extremely suspicious and cautious in a fascist regime. I got more, but you get the idea.

I get called crazy a lot. But it is not because I am a bipolar patient on meds. Or, it may be. I value my mind and mood these days, more than ever. I get ownership in that by shutting out as many robots as possible. I can call it “mine” for one thing. I can feel actually proud when I make stuff and have memories of making it. I am able to build muscle memory with rehearsal and practicing. All this is therapeutic. It helps my mind and body get along. What I am after with music! AI robs me of that.

So while I may technically be the crazy one, all the crazy shit I do is helping me not be crazy.

Kelly Kintner

The Horses Mouth

The Kintners

Djembe Funk

The hour after thought:

Our protest tune with bkbirge on old school equipment in an analog studio called “Pill Party” is a sad fiesta. I will put it here. A good song for this entry. “Going in circles, we never make it anywhere” :

Video

Bandcamp

The Attention Economy by Tom Chatfield, in Aeon.

Good read, here's a quote from it:

From the loftiest perspective of all, information itself is pulling the strings: free-ranging memes whose ‘purposes’ are pure self-propagation, and whose frantic evolution outstrips all retrospective accounts. This is the mountaintop view of Chesterton’s Satan, whispering in a browser’s ear: consider yourself as interchangeable as the button you’re clicking, as automated as the systems in which you’re implicated. Seen from such a height, you signify nothing beyond your recorded actions.

Vint Cerf is working on a plan to unleash AI agents on the open internet by Tim Fernholz in TechCrunch.

^This headline reads like it's a bad thing but it reads more like it's about tying AI agents to an identity like how humans on the internet are generally tied to an IP address. Also, this article is from July so it's probably old news to people who keep up with this stuff but it was news to me.

---

Masha Gessen in the NYTimes on NAZA

Zeeshan Aleem at MSNow on NAZA

I gotta write dedicated Masha Gessen and Zeeshan Aleem posts one of these days. They're both terrific.

I'm unlikely to see NAZA in theaters just 'cause... I don't go to the movies often to begin with and I certainly don't go to the movies to see depressing documentaries, but I intend on seeing this thing as soon as it's available at The Guardian in November.

Closing Day

I thought closing day would feel different.

I imagined there would be a moment when everything settled into place. A signature. A handshake. A set of keys placed in my hand. Some unmistakable sensation that said:

You made it.

Instead, I walked into closing exhausted.

I had worked the night before. I had barely slept. The sellers' car was loaded up and still parked in the driveway when I did the final walkthrough. It quickly became obvious that what I can only describe as a menagerie of animals had lived in the house, and by the time I walked through it, my eyes were watering from the dander stirred into the air.

The seller was trying to coax their cat out of hiding inside the kitchen cabinetry. It had hidden in a void behind the Lazy Susan through a hole in the cabinet under the sink.

Apparently claiming squatter's rights.

That probably should have told me something.

But I was too tired to make much of it.

Besides, there were papers to sign.

For months, everything had been moving toward this day.

There had been the search itself. The houses I considered. The ones I rejected. The questions about where I wanted to live. The calculations about payments and commuting and what I could reasonably afford.

Then this house appeared.

It wasn't perfect.

But it had things that mattered.

A fenced yard.

An attached garage.

An extra bedroom.

No homeowners association.

Room enough to begin again without pretending I was beginning from nothing.

The asking price had already been reduced by $10,000.

My realtor thought my offer was too low.

I understood her reasoning.

I made the offer anyway.

Not because I needed to win a negotiation, but because I had been taught a long time ago when buying my first car: Never fall in love, and don't let the seller see how bad you want it.

That logic applies to houses as well.

You negotiate differently when you are willing to walk away.

Eventually, we settled at a price.

It unfolded almost exactly where I thought it might.

Then came the financing.

There was down-payment assistance. There was supposed to be another $2,500 incentive from the bank.

That $2,500 mattered.

Not because the entire purchase depended on it, but because money already had assignments. Houses have a way of spending money before you ever move into them.

Then, on closing day, the incentive disappeared.

The lender had apparently tried repeatedly to get the loan through Freddie Mac.

Eleven times, I was told.

Eleven denials.

Eventually, the loan received final approval through Fannie Mae, but the $2,500 incentive was gone.

Which meant $2,500 less in my pocket.

The explanation for why remained frustratingly vague.

For a moment, I could feel the disappointment trying to take over the day.

I had expected something.

I had counted on something.

And at the last possible moment, it changed.

There was a time when that might have been enough to make me start to questioning.

Maybe this wasn't supposed to happen.

Maybe I made a mistake.

Maybe the resistance meant something.

But I have become increasingly suspicious of the idea that every difficult thing is a sign to turn around.

Sometimes something goes wrong because something went wrong.

Sometimes your calculations turn out to be off, and you have to figure out how to make the equation still work.

So I proceeded.

Not cheerfully.

Not pretending I wasn't frustrated.

I described it to myself another way:

I was forcing it, but not faking it.

There is a difference.

I didn't need to manufacture gratitude to prove I had faith.

I didn't need to call disappointment a blessing.

I could be frustrated about what happened and still recognize what was happening.

I was buying a home.

So I signed.

And signed.

And signed some more.

Eventually, the papers ran out.

The transaction was complete.

The house was mine.

There should probably be swelling music here.

There wasn't.

There was cleaning.

A lot of cleaning.

Once the sellers and their animals were gone, I began seeing the house differently.

Not the way you see a house during a showing.

Not the way you see it during an inspection.

The way you see something once responsibility for it belongs entirely to you.

There was pet hair everywhere.

Grease.

Dirt.

Cobwebs.

Cabinets that needed scrubbing.

Blinds coated with dust and cat hair.

Standing in that dirty kitchen, exhausted, surrounded by evidence of other people's years in the house, closing day stopped resembling anything I had imagined.

And somehow, that made it more honest.

Because beginnings rarely arrive clean.

We like stories with thresholds.

Before.

After.

Old life.

New life.

One door closes and another opens.

But real life is messier than that.

Sometimes you walk through the new door and discover that somebody left cat hair on the stove.

Sometimes the promised money doesn't come.

Sometimes the previous occupants haven't finished leaving when you arrive.

Sometimes you receive the keys before the place feels remotely like yours.

The threshold is real.

But so is the cleanup afterward.

Maybe that is what I will remember most about closing day.

Not possession.

Responsibility.

The moment something becomes yours is also the moment you can no longer wait for somebody else to take care of it.

The dirt is mine to clean.

The walls are mine to wash.

The broken things are mine to replace.

The useful things are mine to preserve.

The decisions are mine now.

And there is something strangely freeing about that.

Because responsibility and agency arrive together.

I get to decide what stays.

I get to decide what goes.

I get to decide what this place becomes.

A few mornings later, I stepped outside.

The street was quiet.

Above the houses was an enormous October sky, layered with clouds and morning light.

Later, I took my dog Mo for her walk.

Nothing extraordinary happened.

A man walked his dog through his new neighborhood.

That was all.

And perhaps that was enough.

Because there have been seasons of my life when home was not something I could take for granted.

There were years when survival demanded more attention than permanence.

Years when the future was measured differently.

And now I found myself looking down an ordinary suburban street knowing that, when the walk was over, I had somewhere to return to.

My house.

Not a monument.

Not proof that I had finally become successful.

Not evidence that every wound had healed or every question had been answered.

Just a house.

A place with dirty walls but good bones.

A fenced yard where Mo can run and be safe.

A bedroom where I can sleep after working through the night.

A kitchen that needs work.

Rooms waiting to accumulate memories that haven't happened yet.

And maybe that is why closing day did not feel like the ending I expected.

Because it wasn't an ending.

It wasn't even the triumphant arrival I once might have needed it to be.

It was quieter than that.

I have spent much of my life learning how to survive what was handed to me.

Somewhere along the way, survival became rebuilding.

And somewhere during the rebuilding, I began making choices not simply about what I wanted to escape, but about what I wanted to create.

That is different.

The keys in my hand were not a trophy for everything I had endured.

They were permission to begin tending something.

There will be paint.

Repairs.

Furniture.

Bills.

Probably discoveries I would rather not make.

There will be mornings when the novelty has worn off and this place is simply where I live.

Good.

I think I am finally beginning to understand the holiness of simply inhabiting my life.

A dog asleep in her corner.

A refrigerator with food in it.

A door that locks behind me.

A familiar street.

A sky I will eventually recognize from season to season.

People I love coming through the door.

Quiet evenings when nothing important happens.

Ordinary life.

And one day soon, when the cat hair exorcism is complete, when the walls have been washed and the paint has dried, and the work of removing the previous owners' footprint begins giving way to leaving my own, I will move in.

Not into the house I bought.

Into the home I have begun to make.

For years, I thought transformation would announce itself.

I thought there would be a moment when I could look backward and clearly see where the old life ended and the new one began.

Maybe sometimes there is.

But sometimes transformation looks like a tired man standing in a dirty kitchen with a set of keys in his pocket, deciding what he will do with what has been placed in his hands.

No music.

No audience.

No revelation necessary.

Just the quiet recognition:

This belongs to me now.

Not only the house.

The life.

The choices.

The responsibility.

The next chapter.

All of it.

Closing day.

Funny name for it.

Because nothing closed.

Something opened.

ArchitectureOfGrief

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Explore more writing from Silent Sentinel →

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• Fun Andy Weir interview, whose books I never read. I've only watched the movie adaptations, which weren't quite my jam, but judging a film-adaptation is no way to judge an author's work. Either way, the interview is fun and inspiring and does provide some food for thought.

• The entire part 1 of COLLIDER by Warren Ellis and Jerome Eyequem, which is being serialized at Warren's Orbital Operations newsletter. Strong STALKER vibes, but clearly far more demented.

• Steven Heller on his time as art-director for EVERGREEN, a magazine that “devolved” into a paperback periodical. Didn't even know this was a thing. Somewhere in the back of my mind I've been toying with the idea of a regular paperback zine of sorts for quite a long time now.

• Kickstarter for Catherine Tedford's PAPER BULLETS: 120 Years of Political Stickers From Around the World forthcoming from PM Press, which I'm fortunate to have some work in.

• Fonts-in-Use looks at fashion designer Tania Marcial's DELIVERY collection. Strong thrift-wear vibes.

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More podcast note-taking today and a new plumbing issue I gotta look into, when all I'd really like to do is read and write right now. Should also start thinking about the next edition of the RESTRICTED FREQUENCY newsletter, which is supposed to go out in 4 days. Do what you love and never have to work a day in your life, they said.

#radar

So, starting a blog, or a journal as you like. How do you even do it? I am currently staring at this blank page trying to put whatever the hell is going on in my brain into words. Let me tell you, it is not easy.

Maybe I can first start with the why? Why would I do this, and why do I think anyone else will care. Well, I don't think they do. It is mostly an exercise for myself to express the “whatever the hell is going on in my brain”. I am not going to stick to a single topic, I will probably be all over the place, but I do think it's helpful for myself to write some things down. If someone else happens to like to read it, so be it. It is also not topics and things I feel like I need to hide from the public.

How many times do I need to write though? Once a day? Once a week? 500 words every post? I think it's easy to try to make some ground rules, but I also think it will hinder whatever creativity I have in myself. So, it is probably going to be quite irregular, and I am fine with that.

One thing I do believe strongly about is that I will not use any AI tools to do any of my writing, proofreading, summarizing, spell-checking or whatever it could potentially do. Sure, this will make my posts flawed when it comes to spelling and grammar, but I am also fine with that.

For today I think a simple introduction is sufficient: Hi, I am Pieter, 39 years old (shit, almost 40), and living in Berlin with my wife and son. Pretty nerdy about technology, loving music + books, and currently recovering from a not so nice burnout at work.

To whoever will read this at some point: Hi to you! Hope you enjoy all the mess I am writing down and hurling into the world. See you soon!

I had my squat primary day today and it hurts so bad during back offs. I couldn’t finish a set and then I fully stopped. I continued the rest of the program and it got so bad where it was agony even just to exist sitting down. I am honestly really disappointed because the whole reason I got a Coach was to work on this issue and have it go away, but my coach hasn’t really done anything other than saying that we’ll have to watch and see, and hasn’t changed my program at all. I feel like my program is just a cookie cutter paste that isn’t getting customized at all which I really don’t like.

On Mastodon I try to write a list of 3 good things every day. It’s such a great habit to have and I decided that, instead of attempting to update my now page, I’d make this post, wildly inspired by this post by cygnoir!

1. I’ve finished a headband in nålebinding and I love it so much! Just look at the beautiful pattern it creates. 

2. I went to Amsterdam, hitching a ride with my husband. It was SO nice to have a couple hours in the city centre. I brought the original campsnap camera along for the adventure. Will share more pictures later :)

3. I couldn’t sleep one night and decided to hand code a website. I even snagged a fancy JavaScript from somewhere so that the header, footer and navigation are automagically added to the pages.

4. I started the wardrobe switch from spring/summer to autumn/winter! Decluttered two bags of clothes in the process and still have the hanging clothes to go through.

5. Inktober started! I’m mostly following these fairytober prompts, but will go back to the official ones when I feel like it. 

And to share a doodle, here is the wonky one I made for day 4. I use a platinum desk pen with carbon ink for each one, and I doodle in my Filofax.

I share all my doodles on my mastodon account.

By Andrew Wooldridge

Game 060 in the collection is BRICKVADERS. The idea is simple: what if the aliens in Space Invaders were made of bricks, and your laser base was also a Breakout paddle?

It's 1983 and the Brick Armada is coming, an invasion fleet of aliens built out of living bricks, marching down on Earth in formation. Earth's last defence is the STRIKER, a ship that is half Breakout bat and half laser base. You bounce a plasma ball up into the formation to smash invaders and their brick armour, fire lasers between bounces, catch the capsules that fall out, and try to stop the Armada before it lands.

Like every game here, it uses no asset files. Every sprite, letter, explosion, backdrop and note of music is made in code. It's built with three.js and plays on a phone as well as on a desktop.

---

A cabinet in a dark arcade

The goal was for it to feel like a vertical monitor glowing in the corner of an arcade in 1983. The whole game is drawn into a 240 × 320 render target, the shape of a vertical arcade screen, then scaled up with nearest-neighbour sampling so the pixels stay chunky. On the way to your screen it goes through phosphor persistence (moving things leave a faint trail, like an old tube), bloom, and a CRT pass with curvature, scanlines, an aperture grille, a vignette and a little chromatic aberration. You can switch the CRT off if you prefer clean pixels.

The fun part is that every pixel is a real 3D cube. Invaders, bricks, the paddle, bullets, capsules, even the letters in the logo are instances of one InstancedMesh of boxes, lined up exactly on the 240 × 320 grid. The camera sits far back with a narrow field of view, so the flat playfield matches the pixel grid exactly, but anything with depth really is 3D.

That gives the game its look:

• When you hit an invader, pixels break off and tumble toward the glass as cubes, growing in perspective. Killing it bursts the rest.
• Each wave starts with the Armada's pixels flying in from all over the screen and snapping into formation.
• Bigger boxes get a one-pixel bevel in the shader, so bricks look like bricks while single pixels stay flat.
• Screen shakes roll the camera slightly, so for a moment you can see the sides of the voxels.

Behind the playfield, each of the five sectors has its own dim 3D backdrop: a lunar surface with Earth rising, a neon nebula, an asteroid belt, a synthwave sun over a grid, and finally the inside of the mothership. Even the HUD and menus are drawn in a hand-made 5 × 7 pixel font into the same low-res screen, so they glow and scanline like everything else.

The march is the music

My favourite detail is the sound. In Space Invaders the march speeds up as the aliens thin out. BRICKVADERS takes that literally: one beat of the music is one step of the formation. The simulation owns a beat clock and sends out timestamped beat events, and the Web Audio code schedules notes against the audio clock so they land sample-accurately.

Each beat plays the four-note march bassline, shifted into the current sector's chord, along with drums and a pulse-wave lead through a delay. Clear out the formation and the whole song speeds up with it. Brick hits play a rising pentatonic run, so a long chain of ball hits sounds like one melody.

Bosses, challenge stages, the title screen and the ending have their own songs on the same machinery, and there's a full set of generated sound effects, from the paddle blip (pitched by where the ball lands) to the warbling mystery-ship siren.

How it plays

The ball bounces Arkanoid-style: the angle depends on where it hits the paddle, and it speeds up a little with each hit. Your laser works like the original Space Invaders cannon, with one shot on screen at a time. Every hit the ball makes before it comes back to the paddle adds to your chain, and every five links add ×1 to your score multiplier, up to ×5.

The formation marches left and right and drops at each edge, the way you'd expect. If it reaches the ground, you lose a ship and it gets pushed back up. Mixed in with the invaders are bricks: rainbow bricks (it's Breakout, after all), silver bricks that crack, gold bricks only a fireball can break, TNT bricks that chain-react, and prize bricks that always drop a capsule.

There are nine kinds of invader, and the later ones change how you play:

• MIRROR is made of crystal, so your lasers bounce off it and come back at you. Only the ball hurts it.
• BUILDER lays new bricks in empty slots around it and repairs damaged ones.
• DIVER breaks formation Galaga-style, loops down at you, and rejoins from the top.
• CAPTOR dives to mid-screen and shines a tractor beam that steals your ball. Shoot it to free the ball, which comes back as a bonus extra ball.

Capsules work the way Arkanoid fans will expect: Laser, Expand, Catch, Multi-ball, Fireball, Slow, Barrier, Nova bomb and the rare 1UP. The Nova bomb wipes every enemy bullet off the screen and blasts everything. There's also a mystery ship that crosses the top of the screen, and yes, the old trick still works: your 23rd laser shot always scores the full 300.

Five sectors, five brick bosses

A loop is 24 stages: five sectors of three waves and a boss, with a challenge stage after the first four bosses.

SectorBoss1 · Lunar Outpost

King Krabbo, a giant crab of bricks with claw cannons2 · Neon Nebula

The Saucerator, a huge saucer with a spinning light ring and a death beam3 · Asteroid Alley

Rockjaw, an asteroid skull whose steel jaw opens and shuts over its core4 · Synth City

Phantom Queen, a flagship with a giant tractor beam and diver escorts5 · The Hive

The Overmind, a brain in a brick skull, in three phases

The bosses are big grids of cells, and you have to dig through them. There's armour to break, steel that won't break, gun ports that shoot until you knock them out, and a pulsing core that is the only thing that can kill the boss. Bosses rebuild armour around the core over time, so you have to keep at it. Breaking a cell sometimes cracks its neighbour, so tunnels open up. At a quarter of the core's health the boss hits CORE EXPOSED! and its hard armour crumbles for the finish.

The challenge stages are a nod to Galaga: five squadrons of eight invaders fly scripted loops without shooting back. You get rapid twin lasers and a ball that respawns for free. Hit all 40 for a PERFECT!! and 10,000 points.

Beat the Overmind and you get brick fireworks and credits, then Loop 2, where everything is tougher and faster, and it keeps going from there.

The arcade extras

I wanted the full cabinet experience, not just the game:

• An attract mode that cycles title → “Meet the Armada” → capsule table → high scores → a demo where the bot plays an early stage. The logo is made of bricks that fly in and assemble, then a ghost ball knocks bricks out of it.
• A coin-drop sound when you press start.
• A high-score table with three-letter initials.
• A CONTINUE? countdown from 9. Continues are unlimited, and the table records how many you used.
• CADET mode for younger players (five ships, slower bullets, a free barrier every life) and ARCADE mode for the real thing.

On a phone

On a phone, the screen sits on top and an arcade control panel fills the space underneath: a ridged spinner pad you drag across, a big red FIRE button and a yellow BOMB button. Turn the phone sideways and the pad moves to the left with the buttons on the right. Dragging moves the paddle relative to where your finger started, so your finger never covers it. It also works with a keyboard, a mouse or a gamepad.

Tested by a bot

As with the other recent games, the dev/ folder has its own test harnesses:

• simtest.mjs has the AI pilot clear every stage of two full loops headlessly in Node, on both difficulties, in about ten seconds. It fails on any exception, any NaN, or a ball that escapes the field.
• browsertest.mjs drives the real game in Chromium: the attract mode, menus, a game over and initials entry, all 24 stages, the ending and Loop 2, then touch-only phones in portrait and landscape. It fails on any console error.

The same bot that runs the tests also plays the demo in the attract mode. The whole game is about 5,500 lines of plain JavaScript modules with no build step.

A note on the art

BRICKVADERS is a tribute to the genre, not a copy of any one game. Every alien, the mystery ship and the shields are original designs. The three basic grunts (GLOOP, a one-eyed goo blob; BUZZ, a shelled space beetle; and PEEPER, a bat-winged eyeball) replaced earlier sprites that looked too much like the classic octopus, crab and squid.

Play it

Play BRICKVADERS, or find its statue in the Garden of Games with the rest of the collection. If you want to see how it's built, the design doc covers everything from the voxel shader to the boss phases.

Insert coin. Have fun!

🏥 A fully publicly owned NHS – GPs, dentistry and ophthalmology back in public hands ⚛️ Nuclear energy – Opposition dropped, now part of a full energy strategy

🏠 Three-year rent freeze – Breathing space for renters until at least end of 2029

🌍 Nature as a security issue – The biodiversity crisis gets national security focus

📺 Mutualise the BBC – Public control, licence fee abolished

💧 Water in public ownership – Renationalise now, not someday

🐑 Halve animal farming – Support farmers to go sustainable

🛒 Food price intervention – Fair prices for consumers and producers

✊ Councils empowered for BDS – Boycott, divest, sanction

🇵🇸 Zionism is Racism – Names the ideology as racist; calls for one state with equal rights and protections for all.

Policy priorities arrived at democratically by members! 💚

https://join.greenparty.org.uk/

#GreenParty #nhs #ClimateAction #BDS #palestine #BioDiversity #zionism #ukpol

Journal 6 octobre 2026

Nous sommes très émues au dojo. Ce matin des élèves nous ont apporté des fleurs blanches. On se demande comment ils ont su, il y a eu très peu d’articles de presse et on était pas citées, juste un avis de disparition comme il y en a des centaines chaque jour. Et cette après-midi je les vois arriver encore. Le bouche à oreille a fonctionné. C’est super gentil... Je vais descendre. Évidemment, l'atmosphère est particulière.

#Shieko

Vinny the Void- Episode 101: “DIVIDING BY ZERO”

Here is a pilot for a children's educational show idea I had about a loveable extradimensional ball of void energy. Enjoy!

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VINNY THE VOID

Format: Children’s educational comedy Approximate Runtime: 25 minutes Setting: Room 12, an elementary school classroom Primary Educational Theme: Division by zero Secondary Themes: Curiosity, asking questions, learning from mistakes

TEASER

INT. ROOM 12 — MORNING

A cheerful elementary-school classroom.

Colorful multiplication charts line the walls. Construction-paper planets hang from the ceiling. A battered model skeleton stands in one corner wearing a baseball cap.

At the front of the room is a chalkboard.

Written across it:

GOOD MORNING, CLASS!

Underneath:

MR. FULBHER’S MORNING WORK

Complete math worksheet.

Read quietly.

Do not sharpen pencils until 10:00.

Mr. Fulbher will be back shortly.

At the teacher’s desk sits a coffee mug reading:

WORLD’S OKAYEST TEACHER

A sport coat hangs over the back of Mr. Fulbher’s chair.

Mr. Fulbher himself is nowhere to be seen.

Twenty CHILDREN sit at their desks.

THEO, nine, curious and mechanically inclined, pokes at a pocket calculator.

MAYA, energetic and fearless, leans sideways toward him.

MAYA How long has he been gone?

THEO Twenty-three minutes.

OLIVER, a cautious boy sitting nearby, looks toward the classroom door.

OLIVER He said he was going to the copy room.

LENA Maybe there was a line.

MAYA For twenty-three minutes?

OLIVER Teachers make a lot of copies.

MAYA Yesterday he went to make copies and Mrs. Cooper saw him asleep in his car.

OLIVER Maybe he was waiting for the copier to warm up.

Maya looks at him.

OLIVER I don’t know how copiers work.

The classroom INTERCOM crackles.

SECRETARY (V.O.) Room Twelve? Has anyone seen Mr. Fulbher?

The children glance at one another.

MAYA Not recently.

SECRETARY (V.O.) All right. If he comes back, tell him Principal Watkins is looking for him.

THEO Okay.

SECRETARY (V.O.) And tell him his car is still running.

A click.

Silence.

MAYA See?

Theo continues entering numbers into his calculator.

LENA What are you doing?

THEO Seeing what the calculator can do.

He presses buttons.

THEO Nine times nine.

The calculator reads:

81

THEO Square root of eighty-one.

9

MAYA Do a really big number.

Theo types.

THEO Nine hundred ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred ninety-nine times nine hundred ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred ninety-nine.

The calculator thinks.

Then produces an answer.

MAYA Boring.

THEO Okay. You pick something.

Maya considers.

MAYA Divide seven by zero.

Oliver looks over immediately.

OLIVER Can you do that?

THEO I don’t know.

LENA Mr. Fulbher says you’re not supposed to.

MAYA Mr. Fulbher also says we’re supposed to use cursive.

LENA Good point.

Theo types:

7 ÷ 0

His finger hovers over the equals button.

OLIVER Wait.

THEO What?

OLIVER I just feel like maybe we shouldn’t.

MAYA It’s a calculator, Oliver.

OLIVER That’s what people always say right before something happens.

Maya reaches over.

MAYA Just push it.

Theo presses:

=

The calculator screen flickers.

ERROR

THEO See? It just says—

The classroom lights DIM.

The kids look up.

The fluorescent fixtures BUZZ.

The calculator begins emitting a strange electronic WHINE.

OLIVER Theo.

THEO I didn’t do anything!

MAYA You divided by zero.

THEO You told me to!

A low RUMBLE fills the room.

The chalkboard trembles.

One of the hanging paper planets begins rotating on its string.

Lena stares at the center of the classroom.

LENA Um...

A tiny BLACK DOT appears in midair.

Perfectly black.

Not painted black. Not shadowed.

Black in a way that seems almost wrong.

It grows from the size of a pea...

...to the size of a marble...

...to the size of a basketball.

The rumbling stops.

The lights return to normal.

Floating three feet above the floor is a perfectly black sphere roughly three feet across.

The children stare at it.

The sphere stares back.

Or at least seems to.

It has no face.

No eyes.

No mouth.

Nothing reflects from its surface.

Twenty children remain completely silent.

Then—

VINNY HELLO!

The entire class SCREAMS.

CUT TO TITLE SEQUENCE.

OPENING TITLE SEQUENCE

Upbeat, absurdly cheerful music.

Vinny floats through colorful animated educational scenes with the children.

He hovers over a globe.

He watches a plant sprout.

He floats beside musical notes.

He accidentally touches a stack of blocks, causing one block to vanish completely.

The children laugh.

SONG

CHILDREN (SINGING) ♪ There’s so much in the world to know, ♪ ♪ So many places we can go! ♪ ♪ We’ll count and read and laugh and play, ♪ ♪ And learn a little every day! ♪

VINNY (SINGING) ♪ I came from somewhere very far— ♪

MAYA (SINGING) ♪ We’re still not sure exactly where you are! ♪

CHILDREN (SINGING) ♪ Ask a question, try something new, ♪ ♪ There’s always more for us to do! ♪

VINNY AND CHILDREN ♪ Come learn with Vinny! ♪

TITLE CARD:

VINNY THE VOID

Vinny bumps gently against the edge of the title.

The letter “D” disappears.

The title now reads:

VINNY THE VOI

VINNY Oops!

CUT TO:

ACT ONE

INT. ROOM 12 — CONTINUOUS

The children have backed against the walls.

Vinny continues floating peacefully in the middle of the classroom.

VINNY HELLO!

Nobody responds.

Vinny waits.

VINNY Is this not a greeting place?

Theo slowly raises one hand.

THEO Hi?

VINNY HI!

The windows RATTLE from the volume.

Oliver covers his ears.

OLIVER Could you maybe say things... quieter?

VINNY Oh.

A beat.

VINNY (very softly) Hi.

Lena cautiously steps forward.

LENA What are you?

Vinny rotates slightly.

VINNY I don’t know.

MAYA You don’t know what you are?

VINNY Do you?

Maya pauses.

MAYA A person.

VINNY Oh!

Vinny turns toward Oliver.

VINNY Are you a person?

OLIVER Yes.

Vinny turns toward Theo.

VINNY Are you?

THEO Also a person.

Vinny rotates slowly, taking in the entire room.

VINNY So many people!

He floats enthusiastically toward them.

Everyone SHRIEKS and scatters.

VINNY stops.

VINNY Did I do something?

Oliver points.

OLIVER You’re a giant floating black ball!

VINNY looks down at himself.

VINNY Yes.

OLIVER That’s unusual!

VINNY Oh.

Vinny considers this.

VINNY You’re beige.

OLIVER I’m not beige.

MAYA Kind of.

OLIVER Maya!

Theo cautiously approaches.

THEO Where did you come from?

VINNY There.

Theo looks.

THEO Where?

VINNY Not here.

MAYA That clears it up.

Theo looks at the calculator.

Its screen still reads:

ERROR

THEO Did you come out of my calculator?

VINNY What is a calculator?

Theo holds it up.

THEO This.

Vinny floats closer.

THEO Wait—

Vinny brushes the corner of the calculator.

There is no flash.

No explosion.

The calculator simply CEASES TO EXIST where Vinny touched it.

Half of it drops to the floor.

Theo stares at the remaining piece.

Everyone freezes.

VINNY Oh.

THEO My calculator!

VINNY I’m sorry.

Theo picks up the half-calculator.

The severed edge is impossibly smooth.

THEO Where did the other half go?

VINNY Away.

MAYA Away where?

VINNY Away.

MAYA Can we get it back?

VINNY No.

Oliver’s eyes widen.

OLIVER You destroy things?!

VINNY I don’t think “destroy” is right.

OLIVER What word would you use?

VINNY Gone.

Oliver points urgently at Vinny.

OLIVER Nobody touch him!

VINNY That is probably a good idea.

Lena had been slowly extending one finger toward Vinny.

She immediately withdraws it.

LENA Good to know.

Maya picks up a pencil.

MAYA What happens if—

OLIVER NO.

MAYA I was just going to—

OLIVER No experiments!

MAYA You don’t even know what my experiment was.

OLIVER Did it involve touching him with something?

MAYA Yes.

OLIVER Then no.

Vinny sounds disappointed.

VINNY I like experiments.

Maya beams.

MAYA See?

OLIVER That doesn't help!

Theo examines the ruined calculator.

THEO You showed up right after I divided by zero.

Vinny perks up.

VINNY Zero!

THEO You know zero?

VINNY No!

Theo looks confused.

VINNY What is zero?

MAYA It means nothing.

Vinny goes completely still.

VINNY Nothing?

MAYA Yeah.

VINNY There is a number for nothing?

MAYA Zero.

VINNY That is wonderful.

Vinny spins slowly in midair.

VINNY You made a symbol for absence.

The kids look at one another.

LENA I guess.

VINNY People are amazing.

Oliver whispers to Theo.

OLIVER I think we broke math.

INT. ROOM 12 — MOMENTS LATER

The children have returned to their desks, though nobody sits particularly close to Vinny.

Theo stands at the chalkboard.

He writes:

0

Vinny hovers six feet away.

THEO This is zero.

VINNY Zero.

THEO It means none.

Theo picks up three pieces of chalk.

THEO If I have three pieces of chalk—

He places them on the tray.

THEO —I have three.

He removes them.

THEO If I take all three away...

The tray is empty.

THEO I have zero.

VINNY You have a tray.

THEO Right. Zero pieces of chalk.

VINNY Ah.

Lena holds up a box of crayons.

LENA If there are twelve crayons in here, there are twelve.

She dumps the crayons onto her desk.

LENA If Maya takes all twelve—

Maya immediately gathers them.

LENA —then I have zero crayons.

MAYA And I have twelve.

LENA Give those back.

Maya does.

VINNY Zero describes something that is not there.

THEO Exactly.

VINNY I like zero.

MAYA You really do seem like a zero kind of guy.

VINNY Thank you!

MAYA I meant—

THEO Just let him have it.

The INTERCOM crackles.

PRINCIPAL WATKINS (V.O.) Room Twelve?

All the kids look up.

PRINCIPAL WATKINS (V.O.) Has Mr. Fulbher returned?

MAYA No.

PRINCIPAL WATKINS (V.O.) Did he happen to say where he was going?

The children think.

LENA He said, “I need five minutes.”

PRINCIPAL WATKINS (V.O.) When was that?

Theo checks the classroom clock.

THEO Thirty-eight minutes ago.

A long silence from the intercom.

PRINCIPAL WATKINS (V.O.) I see.

VINNY drifts toward the speaker.

VINNY HELLO!

The children panic.

Theo waves frantically.

THEO Shhh!

PRINCIPAL WATKINS (V.O.) Who was that?

Maya thinks quickly.

MAYA New student.

PRINCIPAL WATKINS (V.O.) We have a new student?

MAYA Very new.

PRINCIPAL WATKINS (V.O.) Well... tell Mr. Fulbher to call the office when he returns.

The intercom clicks off.

Vinny lowers his voice.

VINNY Did I do it wrong again?

LENA A little.

VINNY I am learning.

ACT TWO

INT. ROOM 12 — LATER

Theo has written a division problem on the board:

12 ÷ 3 = 4

VINNY What is this?

THEO Division.

VINNY What does division do?

MAYA It breaks numbers into groups.

Theo takes twelve plastic counting cubes from a math bin.

THEO Suppose we have twelve cubes.

He counts them onto a desk.

ALL One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve.

THEO And we want to split them into three equal groups.

He makes three groups of four.

THEO Four in this group, four in this group, and four in this group.

He points to the board.

THEO So twelve divided by three equals four.

VINNY Twelve things become three groups of four things.

THEO Right.

VINNY Division organizes things.

MAYA Sometimes.

VINNY I like division.

Oliver looks suspiciously at Vinny.

OLIVER Maybe don't organize anything yourself.

VINNY Why?

OLIVER Because when you organize things, there might be fewer things afterward.

VINNY That is fair.

Theo writes:

10 ÷ 2 = 5

THEO Ten divided into two equal groups means five in each group.

Vinny circles around the desk, careful to maintain distance.

VINNY What about zero?

Theo pauses.

THEO Zero divided by something works.

VINNY It does?

Theo removes all the cubes.

THEO Suppose we have zero cubes and four groups.

He places four paper circles on the desk.

THEO How many cubes go in each group?

VINNY studies the empty circles.

VINNY None.

THEO Right. Zero.

He writes:

0 ÷ 4 = 0

VINNY Zero divided by four equals zero.

LENA Because you can't share something you don't have.

MAYA My brother does that all the time.

LENA What?

MAYA He says he'll share his candy after he already ate it.

Theo writes another expression:

12 ÷ 0 = ?

VINNY moves closer.

VINNY This is the one.

Theo nods.

THEO This is what I put in the calculator.

VINNY What is the answer?

THEO Apparently...

He gestures toward Vinny.

THEO You.

VINNY I am twelve divided by zero?

MAYA Maybe.

Oliver stands.

OLIVER No. We should not tell the giant space hole that he is a math answer unless we are sure.

VINNY That seems reasonable.

Theo thinks.

THEO Okay. Let's figure it out.

EDUCATIONAL SEGMENT — “TRY IT WITH GROUPS”

Bright MUSIC begins.

A colorful graphic appears beside the children:

LET’S TRY IT!

Theo places twelve counters on the table.

THEO Division can mean splitting things into equal groups.

VINNY We have twelve.

THEO Right.

VINNY And we need zero groups.

Theo nods.

Vinny waits.

THEO waits.

Everyone waits.

VINNY Where are the groups?

THEO There aren't any.

VINNY Where should I put the twelve things?

THEO That's the problem.

Maya picks up one counter.

MAYA We could put them here.

THEO Then that's one group.

Maya puts it back.

Lena points to another spot.

LENA What about over there?

THEO That would also be a group.

OLIVER If there are zero groups, there isn't anywhere to put them.

VINNY So twelve things cannot be divided into zero groups.

THEO Exactly.

A little animated equation appears:

12 ÷ 0 = ?

A cheerful question mark BOUNCES.

VINNY Maybe the answer is zero.

Theo writes:

12 ÷ 0 = 0 ?

THEO Let's check.

He writes underneath:

division ↔ multiplication

THEO Division and multiplication are connected.

MAYA Like opposites.

THEO Sort of.

He writes:

12 ÷ 3 = 4

Then:

4 × 3 = 12

THEO If twelve divided by three equals four, then four times three has to equal twelve.

VINNY I see.

Theo returns to:

12 ÷ 0 = ?

THEO So if twelve divided by zero had an answer, we could call the answer—

He writes:

?

MAYA Question Mark.

THEO No.

MAYA Kevin.

THEO Why Kevin?

MAYA We need a name.

VINNY I like Kevin.

THEO Fine.

Theo writes:

12 ÷ 0 = KEVIN

THEO If Kevin were the answer, then—

He writes:

KEVIN × 0 = 12

THEO This would have to be true.

Vinny pauses.

VINNY What number times zero makes twelve?

The children think.

Lena raises her hand.

LENA None.

THEO Exactly.

Theo writes examples.

1 × 0 = 0 5 × 0 = 0 100 × 0 = 0 1,000,000 × 0 = 0

VINNY Every number multiplied by zero equals zero.

THEO Right.

VINNY So no number multiplied by zero can equal twelve.

THEO Which means there is no number that works as the answer to twelve divided by zero.

Maya dramatically crosses out KEVIN.

MAYA Sorry, Kevin.

A cheerful animated stamp appears:

UNDEFINED

THEO That's why we say dividing a nonzero number by zero is undefined.

VINNY Undefined.

LENA It doesn't mean the answer is really huge.

THEO Right.

OLIVER It doesn't mean infinity.

THEO Right.

MAYA And it doesn't mean Vinny.

Everyone looks at Vinny.

VINNY Probably.

The music STOPS abruptly.

Everyone considers that.

MAYA Probably?

VINNY I do not know why I am here.

OLIVER Fantastic.

SONG: “YOU CAN’T DIVIDE BY ZERO”

A bouncy classroom tune begins.

Theo taps two counting sticks together.

THEO (SINGING) ♪ If twelve is split in groups of three, ♪ ♪ Four in each is what we see! ♪

LENA (SINGING) ♪ And zero split four ways is fine, ♪ ♪ There’s none for yours and none for mine! ♪

MAYA (SINGING) ♪ But take a number, any you know, ♪ ♪ And try to divide it by zero— ♪

ALL CHILDREN ♪ There’s no number that will do! ♪

VINNY ♪ Not four? ♪

CHILDREN ♪ No! ♪

VINNY ♪ Not ten? ♪

CHILDREN ♪ No! ♪

VINNY ♪ A billion? ♪

CHILDREN ♪ No! ♪

VINNY ♪ Kevin? ♪

CHILDREN ♪ NO! ♪

VINNY AND CHILDREN ♪ You can add with zero, subtract it too, ♪ ♪ Multiply by zero, we know what to do! ♪ ♪ But when zero is what you divide by, ♪ ♪ There’s no ordinary answer to try! ♪

A beat.

VINNY ♪ And sometimes you might summon a void guy! ♪

The children stop singing.

Theo looks directly at Vinny.

THEO I don't think that's usually part of it.

VINNY Oh.

The music resumes.

ALL ♪ Dividing by zero is undefined! ♪

They strike a pose.

Vinny spins happily.

He gets too close to a stack of worksheets on Mr. Fulbher's desk.

The corner of the stack disappears.

The children stare.

VINNY ...Undefined?

MAYA No, that one was definitely you.

ACT THREE

INT. ROOM 12 — AFTERNOON

The classroom now has a strip of masking tape on the floor making a large circle.

A handwritten sign reads:

VINNY ZONE

Vinny floats happily inside it.

OLIVER This is six feet in every direction.

MAYA You measured it four times.

OLIVER I like being alive.

VINNY I will stay inside the Vinny Zone.

LENA Unless we go outside.

VINNY Then we will make another Vinny Zone.

OLIVER Good.

Theo enters the circle carefully, carrying a long wooden pointer.

OLIVER Theo!

THEO I'm not touching him.

Theo extends the pointer.

The tip passes into Vinny.

It vanishes.

Theo pulls it back.

The pointer is now six inches shorter.

Maya's jaw drops.

MAYA Do it again.

OLIVER No!

VINNY I really am sorry about the things.

THEO It's okay.

OLIVER It is not okay.

THEO I mean, it's okay as long as we’re careful.

Vinny droops slightly.

Despite being a sphere, he somehow looks sad.

VINNY I do not want to make your things gone.

Lena smiles.

LENA Then don't touch them.

VINNY I will try.

MAYA Can you touch yourself?

Everyone turns toward Maya.

MAYA What? It's a valid question.

Vinny thinks.

VINNY I am always touching myself.

Maya's eyes widen.

MAYA Whoa.

OLIVER No.

MAYA What?

OLIVER Whatever thought you're having, no.

Theo looks at the board, where the earlier equation remains:

7 ÷ 0

THEO I still don't understand why you appeared.

VINNY Neither do I.

THEO What were you doing before?

VINNY Being.

THEO Where?

VINNY There was no where.

LENA Were there other people?

VINNY There were no people.

MAYA Other voids?

VINNY There were no others.

The children become quieter.

Theo looks at Vinny.

THEO Were you lonely?

Vinny doesn't answer immediately.

VINNY I did not know there were people.

LENA That's kind of sad.

VINNY It was not sad then.

A beat.

VINNY It would be sad now.

The children smile.

Then Oliver points cautiously at Vinny.

OLIVER You're still not hugging anybody.

VINNY I know.

INT. SCHOOL HALLWAY / ROOM 12 — CONTINUOUS

Footsteps approach.

The kids hear them.

Maya looks toward the door.

MAYA Someone's coming!

Oliver gasps.

OLIVER Principal Watkins!

Theo looks around.

THEO Hide Vinny!

The children freeze.

MAYA Where?

They all look at the three-foot-wide sphere of perfect nothingness.

OLIVER Closet!

THEO He'll erase the closet!

LENA Behind the curtain!

MAYA He's a black ball the size of a washing machine!

VINNY I can be quiet.

THEO It's not the noise that's the problem.

The classroom door handle turns.

Maya grabs a rolling chalkboard and pushes it in front of Vinny.

Vinny is completely hidden.

The door opens.

We do NOT see Principal Watkins fully. Only a hand and part of a suit sleeve enter frame.

PRINCIPAL WATKINS (O.S.) Children?

ALL Hi, Principal Watkins!

PRINCIPAL WATKINS (O.S.) Everything all right?

ALL Yes!

PRINCIPAL WATKINS (O.S.) Where is Mr. Fulbher?

Silence.

Maya looks at Theo.

Theo looks at Lena.

Lena looks at Oliver.

OLIVER We don't know.

PRINCIPAL WATKINS (O.S.) His car is gone.

MAYA Maybe he moved it.

PRINCIPAL WATKINS (O.S.) His coat is still here.

The children look at the coat hanging on the chair.

LENA He has other coats.

PRINCIPAL WATKINS (O.S.) His briefcase is here too.

They look under the desk.

Indeed, a briefcase.

PRINCIPAL WATKINS (O.S.) And his lunch.

A brown paper lunch bag sits beside it.

MAYA Maybe he forgot them.

PRINCIPAL WATKINS (O.S.) All of them?

MAYA He's very forgetful.

A long pause.

PRINCIPAL WATKINS (O.S.) That is true.

Behind the chalkboard, Vinny slowly drifts sideways.

His surface touches the corner of the board.

A perfectly circular chunk of chalkboard disappears.

Theo's eyes widen.

Through the missing section, Vinny is clearly visible.

Principal Watkins remains positioned just outside the doorway at an angle where he cannot see it.

PRINCIPAL WATKINS (O.S.) Well, the office received a phone call from Mr. Fulbher.

The kids lean forward.

PRINCIPAL WATKINS (O.S.) Apparently he's at home.

MAYA At home?

PRINCIPAL WATKINS (O.S.) He says he went there during his planning period.

THEO Planning period was two hours ago.

PRINCIPAL WATKINS (O.S.) Yes.

Silence.

PRINCIPAL WATKINS (O.S.) He says he lost track of time.

Oliver mouths:

WOW.

PRINCIPAL WATKINS (O.S.) He also says there's a lesson plan in the blue folder on his desk.

All the kids groan.

PRINCIPAL WATKINS (O.S.) I'll send someone down to cover the class.

VINNY shifts again.

Another piece of chalkboard disappears.

Maya desperately holds the board still.

PRINCIPAL WATKINS (O.S.) Is something wrong with your chalkboard?

MAYA No!

A beat.

MAYA Old building.

PRINCIPAL WATKINS (O.S.) Right.

The door closes.

Footsteps recede.

The children exhale.

Maya rolls the ruined board away.

VINNY Was I hidden?

OLIVER Not well.

INT. ROOM 12 — MOMENTS LATER

Theo opens the blue folder on Mr. Fulbher's desk.

Inside is one sheet of paper.

He reads.

THEO “Independent study.”

The class groans again.

MAYA That's the whole lesson plan?

Theo turns the page over.

Blank.

THEO That's the whole lesson plan.

Vinny floats closer, staying carefully within his taped boundary.

VINNY What is independent study?

LENA It means Mr. Fulbher doesn't teach anything.

OLIVER It means we work by ourselves.

VINNY But you are not by yourselves.

Everyone looks at Vinny.

VINNY I am here.

Theo smiles.

THEO Yeah.

VINNY We could learn something.

MAYA Like what?

Vinny looks around the room.

There are books.

Maps.

Plants.

A globe.

Art supplies.

Science models.

Numbers.

Letters.

Music posters.

Vinny slowly rotates, overwhelmed by possibilities.

VINNY Everything.

The children laugh.

LENA You can't learn everything today.

VINNY Why not?

THEO There's too much.

Vinny considers this.

VINNY Then we should start now.

Theo picks up a piece of chalk.

THEO What do you want to learn first?

Vinny looks at the board.

At the number zero.

VINNY More numbers.

MAYA I vote dinosaurs.

LENA Animals.

OLIVER Safety.

MAYA You would.

Vinny spins happily.

VINNY We can learn all of those!

THEO Not all at once.

VINNY One at a time?

Theo nods.

THEO One at a time.

Vinny settles in front of the class.

The children return to their desks.

For the first time, the arrangement resembles a classroom with a teacher.

Except the teacher is a floating sphere of extradimensional nothingness.

VINNY Hello, class!

CHILDREN Hi, Vinny!

VINNY Today we learned that you cannot divide by zero.

THEO Right.

VINNY Because there is no number that works as the answer.

LENA Right.

VINNY And zero is not the same thing as nothing being important.

The kids pause.

THEO What do you mean?

VINNY Zero represents nothing.

Theo nods.

VINNY But you use it to understand things.

A beat.

VINNY So nothing can be useful.

Maya thinks about that.

MAYA That's actually pretty good.

Vinny sounds delighted.

VINNY I taught something!

OLIVER Technically Theo taught most of it.

VINNY We taught something!

THEO That's better.

The INTERCOM crackles.

SECRETARY (V.O.) Room Twelve?

THEO Yes?

SECRETARY (V.O.) We can't find anyone available to cover Mr. Fulbher's class.

Maya grins.

MAYA That's okay.

SECRETARY (V.O.) Are you sure?

Maya looks at Vinny.

Vinny floats proudly at the front of the room.

MAYA We've got it handled.

SECRETARY (V.O.) All right. Mr. Fulbher says he'll definitely be in tomorrow.

The entire class exchanges knowing looks.

OLIVER Sure.

SECRETARY (V.O.) What was that?

OLIVER Nothing!

The intercom clicks off.

Vinny gasps.

VINNY Nothing!

He points, metaphorically, at the word on the board.

VINNY Zero!

THEO Not exactly.

VINNY Oh.

Vinny pauses.

VINNY I still have much to learn.

THEO That's okay.

MAYA So do we.

Vinny bobs happily.

VINNY Then tomorrow we learn again!

The children cheer.

Vinny gets excited and floats backward.

THEO Vinny—

VINNY bumps Mr. Fulbher's coffee mug.

Half the mug vanishes.

The remaining half falls onto the desk.

Everyone stares.

VINNY Oh no.

MAYA That's Mr. Fulbher's favorite mug.

OLIVER He's going to notice that.

The children stare at it.

Then at one another.

Then toward the door.

THEO Is he?

A beat.

Everyone bursts into laughter.

Vinny laughs with them.

CLOSING EDUCATIONAL RECAP

A brightly colored graphic appears.

VINNY’S BIG IDEA

Vinny floats beside a cartoon chalkboard.

VINNY Today we learned about dividing by zero!

The board displays:

12 ÷ 3 = 4

VINNY Twelve divided by three is four because twelve can be split into three equal groups of four.

The board changes:

0 ÷ 4 = 0

VINNY Zero divided by four is zero. If there is nothing to share, each group gets nothing.

The board changes:

12 ÷ 0 = ?

VINNY But twelve divided by zero does not have an ordinary numerical answer.

Theo enters.

THEO If twelve divided by zero equaled some number, then that number times zero would have to equal twelve.

Maya enters.

MAYA But every number times zero equals zero.

She points.

5 × 0 = 0

100 × 0 = 0

1,000,000 × 0 = 0

THEO So no number works.

VINNY That means dividing a nonzero number by zero is—

ALL Undefined!

VINNY And remember—

Oliver rushes into frame.

OLIVER Don't try to summon anything with your calculator!

Everyone looks at him.

OLIVER What?

VINNY That is also a good rule.

END TAG

INT. ROOM 12 — LATE AFTERNOON

The room is empty except for Vinny.

Late sunlight enters through the windows.

Vinny floats alone near the chalkboard.

He looks at the equation:

7 ÷ 0

Then down at the broken calculator still resting on Theo's desk.

VINNY Seven divided by zero.

A beat.

VINNY Vinny.

He sounds pleased.

The classroom door opens just slightly.

We see no person.

Only the edge of the door.

A tired OLD MAN'S VOICE speaks from the hallway.

MR. FULBHER (O.S.) Did I leave my lunch in here?

Vinny turns toward the door.

VINNY HELLO!

A long silence.

The door slowly closes again.

Vinny waits.

VINNY Hello?

From far down the hallway:

MR. FULBHER (O.S.) I'll get it tomorrow.

Vinny turns back toward the classroom.

VINNY What a nice man.

CUT TO BLACK.

END.

I picked the Ashwagandha card today from the Dirt Gems Oracle deck. Here’s my reflections on the card:

My body. I’m building this. It will be strong and it will find time to walk or move at least 30 minutes each day. I will move slowly and intentionally. I will feed it the most nourishing things, at least 5 meals with vegetables and fruits each week. I will rest and move gently when I need to.

My mind. I’m building this. It will be responsive and calm, and not reactive. Compassionate and not abrasive. I will feed it nourishing and gentle knowledge. I will let go of thoughts. I will write and reflect for at least 20 minutes each day to encourage equanimity.

My spirit. I’m building this. It will be strong and connected to all. I will meditate at least 20 minutes each session. Preferably twice each day, once in the morning and once in the evening.

All is one. I see this and acknowledge this. Apart from all that I’ve said I will do. I will pull a card to further reflect on everything as one. I will reflect on things I notice. What about these things can teach a lesson for my body, mind, and spirit today?

—

Aside from these, writing to report and note that I’m a regular Redditor! I even have the app downloaded on my phone. I don’t think I ever was, but it’s been a place of refuge for the very specific topics and things I’m into, namely, photography with my RicohGR3, tarot readings and tarot deck discussions. On the latter, I’m mindful to buy any more without actual client work. But it’s been interesting to see the different decks we are each drawn to. My starter decks are so different from everyone’s. I was conscious and mindful about not starting with the Rider-Waite or the more traditional decks. My most-used deck is actually Thoth-based and I was surprised to learn that very recently.

Anyway, the community-collective aspect of Reddit has always been its strength. That and the S-tier humour. I appreciate that there’s still a community vibe somewhere on the Internet. I have noticed though, people can be so quick to react and judge people, even to those that are out-rightly asking for help. Why can’t we help without judging? Why do we have to know the whole context?

#daily #writing #takingcare #DirtGemsOracle #reflection

Chapter 1: The Quiet Place Where You Admit You Are Worn Down

Sometimes it happens late at night when nobody is asking anything from you for a few minutes. The house is finally quiet, the screen on your phone has gone dark, and you realize how tired you are of being the one who always handles everything. You may not even know who to say that to, because the people around you have become so used to your strength that you are not sure they would know what to do with your weariness. The Jesus and the pressure to become what others expect message matters in that private place because Jesus understood what it was like to have people constantly reaching for something from Him.

There is a kind of exhaustion that comes from doing too much, but there is another kind that comes from feeling like you are not allowed to stop. You may be carrying responsibilities because they matter, but you may also be carrying an image. The capable one. The steady one. The person who does not fall apart. The person who always answers. That is why learning to follow God when people expect you to keep being the strong one can become such a personal spiritual struggle.

Maybe nobody has directly told you that you have to keep doing everything. Maybe they do not need to. You already know the pattern. A family member calls because there is a problem. A coworker comes to you because they trust you to fix it. A friend reaches out because you are the person who listens. You care about all of them, but somewhere in the middle of being useful, you start disappearing from your own life.

That can be hard to admit because part of you may like being needed. Being dependable can feel meaningful. It can make you feel valuable. It can even become the way you understand your place in other people’s lives.

Then one day, you are sitting alone and wondering what would happen if you stopped holding everything together.

Would people still value you if you were not always solving something?

Would they still call if you were the one who needed help?

Would they understand if you said, “I cannot do this today”?

Jesus gives us a strange kind of comfort here because He did not live as if every need around Him was automatically His assignment. People searched for Him. Crowds followed Him. His disciples told Him that everyone was looking for Him. Still, there were moments when He stepped away to pray or moved on to another place.

He did not do that because He stopped caring.

He did it because love and obedience were not the same thing as endless availability.

That is difficult to believe when you have spent years proving your care through how much you carry.

Maybe you need to hear this quietly rather than dramatically: you are allowed to be a person in your own life.

You are allowed to need rest.

You are allowed to admit that something is too much.

You are allowed to pray before answering instead of responding out of habit.

God is not disappointed in you because you have limits. He already knows them. The more important question may be whether you are willing to recognize them too.

Sometimes the first step toward a healthier kind of faith is not doing more. It is becoming honest enough to say, even if only to God at first, “I am tired of pretending this does not cost me anything.”

Chapter 2: When You Start Wondering Who You Are Without the Role

You may notice the question on a quiet afternoon when nobody needs anything from you for once. The room feels almost unfamiliar because there is no problem to solve, no urgent message, and no responsibility demanding your attention. Instead of feeling relieved, you feel restless. You reach for your phone, check your email again, or look around for something useful to do because being still makes you uncomfortable. Somewhere along the way, being needed became so closely tied to your identity that rest now feels almost like failure.

That can happen slowly. You become the person who remembers everyone’s appointments, covers the missed shift, fixes the broken plan, or keeps the family from falling apart during hard seasons. People begin to trust you because you are dependable, and you begin to trust yourself for the same reason. There is something good in that, but there is also a danger when responsibility becomes the only way you know how to feel valuable.

Jesus never built His identity around usefulness.

He served constantly, but He did not need people to need Him in order to know who He was. Before the crowds grew large, before the miracles became known, before people followed Him from town to town, His identity was already rooted in the Father.

That matters if you have spent years measuring yourself by what you accomplish for others.

Maybe your family sees you as the strong one because you rarely complain. Maybe your friends know you as the person who always answers. Maybe your workplace has rewarded you for being the person who never says no. Eventually, those roles can feel permanent. You stop asking what you need because you are too busy living up to what everyone expects.

Then something changes.

Your energy is lower. Your schedule becomes fuller. You realize you are carrying resentment toward people you genuinely love. You start noticing that you are angry at requests that would not bother you if you had more room inside your own life.

That anger can be uncomfortable, but it may also be telling you something.

It may be telling you that you have ignored your own limits for too long.

Jesus did not ignore His limits. He slept when He was tired. He withdrew to quiet places. He stepped away from crowds. He prayed before major decisions. He did not act as though spiritual strength meant denying every human need.

You do not have to either.

Imagine a friend calling you late in the evening with another problem they expect you to solve. In the past, you might have stayed on the phone for an hour even though you were exhausted. This time, you listen for a few minutes and then say, kindly, “I care about you, but I need to rest tonight. Can we talk tomorrow?”

That may seem like a small change, but it can feel enormous when you are used to being endlessly available.

The fear that comes afterward may surprise you. You may worry that they will think you have changed, become selfish, or stopped caring.

Maybe you have changed.

Maybe you are learning that love does not have to require self-erasure.

Maybe you are discovering that your value remains intact even when you are not the person solving the problem.

God can still use you when you are resting. He can still love you when you are unavailable. You are still worthy of care when you have nothing left to give.

Sometimes the deeper work of faith is learning to believe that.

Chapter 3: Letting God Love the Person Beneath the Role

Tomorrow may bring another request before you have fully finished your first cup of coffee. Someone may need an answer, a favor, a decision, or your time. Before you respond, remember that you are more than the role you have learned to play for everyone else.

Jesus served people without allowing service to become His identity. He knew who He was before the crowd approved of Him, before anyone thanked Him, and before anyone understood Him.

You can begin learning that same kind of security.

You do not have to earn your worth by being endlessly useful. You do not have to prove your love by carrying every burden. You can still be generous, dependable, and compassionate while admitting that you are human.

God is not asking you to disappear inside everyone else’s needs.

He is asking you to walk with Him honestly.

And sometimes honesty begins with admitting that you need care too.

Your friend, Douglas Vandergraph

Explore the complete Douglas Vandergraph Master Index: https://douglasvandergraph.com/douglas-vandergraph-master-index/

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