Journey is never about the destination, it is always the hearts, minds and experiences along the way.

Perry W, Ng, Mary, Moses, Joel b, mom and dad. A bunch of others.

Traveling west. Towing dad's flatbed, Kermit the towed, desth maxhine, dirt, other stuff. Camping, maybe?

State Hwy 287 figures prominently. I grew up 5 blocks from the state highway, which today is the very tail end of I-44. And ironically, I live 5 blocks from it now… on the opposite side of town.

It has always been present when I travel. East or west, it’s 287, north: I-44.

Keep having trouble staying together with the group. I drive ahead and lose contact, then find everyone again. They are usually having a good time, unworried about the route, or packing, leaving anyone behind.

Phones seem intermittent. Or calls are easily missed? Tracking isn’t working. I feel lost between places… lots of worry.

One point I am rollerblading through hills (nice rural neighborhood with fresh, smooth blacktop). I am SO fast and smooth. I pass cars, cut through beautiful green yards. Someone is behind me, but can’t keep up. I slow and wait at first, but after passing a harvest gold 1979 Ford LTD, I can’t help but go fast as I can. It’s an adrenaline rush.

Eventually, I run out of the really choice routes, end up going down the old alley across from my grad school, past the 7-11 where I used to buy comics ($1.26 for two issues including tax) and turn onto the hwy access road wheee the asphalt is faded and has all those little pebbly rocks that made it a nightmare for skates and skateboards.

Here I find Ng at a roadside stand selling newspapers. She is sad and forlorn. This is significant because she is rarely sad and forlorn. Though the last few years I see this face more than I want too. Sitting hunched on the ground, on a stack of newspapers. I get her a chair. There are several scattered among patrons. The first is a rusty metal folding chairs i pass on it and get her a dinner chair with a padded seat. It is brown.

She complains of feeling abandoned and let down. Frustrated that I left her here all by herself.

Her mom shows up, I leave them to go find the party. It occurs to me that she often complained I out others before us. Am I doing this now? But she doesn’t come with me, preferring to stay with mom. I look for the group. But can’t find where I left them. There was a big conversation about how to load out so nothing got left behind. We had more vehicles than we did drivers.

I get a call from a debt collector. He can’t tell me what the debt is for, only to pay him.

Wake up.

I feel bad leaving everyone. I can’t forgot why invited find them. I feel worry and guilt after waking.

I'm moving through life carrying a history and responsibility. Somewhere underneath it I'm afraid that I’ll get too far ahead, outrun and lose people, and discover that I failed obligations I can’t clearly see.

feeling something is wrong, somebody is missing, and that it is somehow my responsibility to make it right — without telling me exactly what went wrong.

Odd, In consciousness, i feel like i know where I went wrong and what my debts are. The camping journey anxiety is an old one… when I used to organize camping trips 20-30 deep, it was a foundational fear that I would make a mistake that would cause some to lose out.

Then there was the near drowning of BP and RN… was that my last big trip? I think it was… HOW could that have been more than 15 years ago?!?!?

---

1. When I am responsible for a group of people, what am I secretly afraid will happen if I lose control of the logistics?
2. What did the BP/RN near-drowning teach me—emotionally, not intellectually—about being responsible for other people's safety?
3. When I think about the camping trips I organized, do I remember more of the joy and connection, or the possibility that something could go wrong?
4. What does “leaving someone behind” mean to me? Is it physical abandonment, emotional neglect, choosing someone else over them, or simply failing to anticipate their needs?
5. When Ng tells me she feels abandoned, what part of me immediately believes her—and what part of me wants to defend myself?
6. Where in my present life am I still trying to be the driver, coordinator, rescuer, or person who makes sure nobody gets left behind?
7. What happens inside me when I choose my own speed, pleasure, freedom, or excitement—as I do while rollerblading—and someone else can't keep up?
8. Who are the “people in the convoy” of my life right now, and which of them am I afraid I might be leaving behind?
9. What are my actual debts—the things I genuinely believe I owe people—and which “debts” might be inherited feelings of responsibility that nobody is actually asking me to pay?
10. If I stopped believing it was my job to make sure everyone arrived safely, happily, and together, what would I be free to do with my own life?

I’ve noticed I don’t care at all if someone takes weeks to message me back on Hinge or something like that because I’m not at all waiting for any messages. I wonder if this is not caring in a good way or in a way that just avoids pain.

When Henry Patton had told his mistress Maevin Maer he wanted to be more of a true lord of the estate, the young Terran had no idea how much paperwork would come with it. It felt like from morning to evening, there was some sort of document being added to his tablet or piece of paper being provided that needed his attention. He did his best not to complain, but Henry had caught the looks of pity on Siv's pretty face a few times already. At the moment, he was looking down at a document that was telling him the status of all the estates under his estate's authority and what they had been up to.

It was boring.

I guess boring is a good thing, he thought to himself. That means nobody is actually gunning for us.

The whole fiasco with Neeza Tavik and Princess Fanina Vaesh was quite a few months earlier. There hadn't been any other attempts that he was aware of, but that didn't mean they weren't coming for him. Henry put down the pad and leaned back in his chair, the soft leather material holding him gently.

How long had it been since he saw home? Henry had promised a year to High Baron Hesh Avernell but hadn't realized he had promised a Victory year. One year on this planet was three years back at home. No wonder his fiance's family were complaining. Henry hadn't realized how much pressure he had put on his family with this choice.

I don't regret it, he thought to himself and before the thought about leaving could come to mind, he quickly banished it.

Sighing, the Terran lord leaned forward to pick up his tablet again when the door of his office creaked open. Looking up, he found no one standing there but lowered his gaze to see a pair of pink eyes looking at him. They were set into the cute face of a young girl who could not have been more than six or seven. She wore a tan shirt with a match skirt that had patches of dark pink in it. It had the distinct asymmetrical cut along the shoulder and skirt that was definitely of Xaltean fashion and what appeared to be sneakers. A large pink bow took up most of her orange hair. She was not dressed like a maid but rather an ordinary little girl.

“ho. nata taveluxilvi. leva benea tavelu mive sabve?“

Henry blinked before his brain kicked into gear as she spoke again.

“Hi. I'm lost. Can you help me find my mom?” she said again, her eyes getting bigger and more nervous. Henry smiled at her and stood. Having grown up around a lot of large families, children were not something strange to him.

“Of course. Do you know where you last saw her?”

“No,” she said with a shake of her head causing the curls to bounce.

“What about your dad?”

“He's in the military somewhere else.”

“Do you know where she works?” Henry asked walking up to her and crouching down. The girl shook her head again though her eyes grew a bit watery.

“Don't worry,” Henry said crouching down to eye level. “We'll find her. What's your name?”

“Vevet.”

“Well, Vevet. I'm Henry. Let's go see if we can find her.”

As Henry pushed the door open, Vevet grabbed his hand and held on tight. Who knew how long she had been wandering the hallways, and how did she get past the maids? As he walked down the gray marble hallways, he found that there were almost no maids around. Glancing at his watch, he saw it showed the numbers 3.0.4.0. That placed the estate in the middle of their shift change which meant briefings and getting things ready. A very good chance a small child could have slipped through unnoticed.

Henry really didn't have any idea where to go next, so he just walked towards the outer patio in hopes that maybe Vevet would spot her mother but as the sunshine hit his face, he found nobody there. Further up the path that wrapped around towards the Grand Cellars, he could make out a two maids ripping out a dead bush that must have died from the heat.

“What's your mom's name?” Henry asked.

“Shinka,” Vevet said watching the two maids in the distance. Another maid showed up, a male wearing the longer robes of an estate maid while the two others were a scullery and harvester. Then the idea struck him. The Terran Lord pointed to the three maids.

“Does your mom dress like any of them?”

The young girl studied them carefully and nodded pointing towards the woman with the simple pale pink tvekel skirt and sleeveless wrap around top. So, her mother was a harvester, that narrowed it down from four thousand to what, three or four hundred? If memory served Arch Maid Vindik Mal, who was in charge of the Ground Legion, would be outrunning his inspections. Maybe Henry could catch him and get an idea where to look next.

“Let's go see if we can find Mister Vindik. He should know where your mom is,” Henry said giving her a hand an encouraging squeeze.

Leading the way, Henry decided that the best option was to take the walk path from the inner estate and to make his way down the main road towards the Northern Fields. That was his guess where the leader of the Ground Legion would be. The Terran lord knew that the tending of the vines of the famous blue grapes would be in full swing as the harvest would be necessary to produce the wine in the fall.

Vevet. That means blue, Henry thought to himself thinking about the girl beside him. For the little one, Vevet seemed to be at ease skipping along beside him as they walked down the dirt path. It was a gradual change from the manicured lawns and hedges to the long, dusty road flanked by fields of grape vines, their little blue berried shimmering in the light of the sun. In the distance in a lot of these fields Henry could make out the small huts and the figures working. Machinery hummed along spraying water while in other areas, the eemodae were harvesting by hand for the special stock.

“Where are you from?”

The question from Vevet broke Henry out of his thoughts and he glanced down at the large, curious eyes.

“I'm from a planet called Pax Aeterna.”

“You're human?”

The Terran lord braced himself. He honestly didn't know how strong the stereotype of his people had been among the Xalteans.

“I am.”

“You have brothers and sisters?”

“Two sisters and a brother.”

“You miss home?”

Did he? That was a good question. When he first had come here, Henry had been extremely anxious and scared. He had been thrust into the middle of a culture he had no clue about and who were so different from his own, he had felt like he was lost and drowning. Now? Blue Blossom felt more like home and where he came from a distant memory.

“I miss my family.”

Vevet nodded her head sagely as they continued, the sun's heat warm against their heads. “I miss home too.”

“Where's home?”

“Fuvusheemee. It's a planet far from here. Mommy got promoted and invited here as she's an expert on horti-something.”

“Horticulture?”

“Yes!” Vevet said nodding her head excitedly causing her curls to bound.

“Long trip?”

“Yeah.”

“How did you get lost?” Henry finally asked realizing he hadn't known. The girl looked a bit embarrassed.

“I was playing in the dorm yard and was chasing dayflitters. I...got lost.”

Ah, yes. The iridescent, sparkling insects that flew around in the daytime. They reminded Henry of dragonflies from Earth but with much more gossamer wings and slender bodies.

“Am I in trouble?” Vevet asked tentatively.

“No, not at all,” Henry smiled reassuringly.

The conversation dwindled into comfortable silence as they began to approach a collection of buildings nestled on both sides of the road. Henry could make out figures moving around and realized it was a staging point for the harvesters and others. Standing at the primary station providing instructions to a team, Vindik's dark eyes glanced over and saw Henry coming. There was a flicker of confusion before the professionalism took over. He strode over while the other maids, seeing who it was, scattered to their jobs.

“My lord,” Vindik said bowing, his shaved head glinting in the light. “I didn't expect you.”

“It's alright. This young lady got lost, and we're looking for her mom. Do you have a Shinka working for you?”

“There are quite a few Shinkas,” Vindik said looking at the little girl who appeared stressed again at the thought of so many.

“She's a horticulturist from Fuvumeeshee,” Henry added.

“Ah,” Vindik said with a sharp nod. “Shika Aeshma, she's a 5th Order harvester. I have her working in the southern fields today. Signs of a possible blight cropping up there.”

The young man nodded as he squeezed Vevet's hand again. “See! We know where your momma is. Everything is going to be alright.”

“Shall I fetch her, my lord?” Vindik asked reaching to tap his gauntlet with the communicator built in.

Henry Patton was about to answer when Vevet tugged on his arm. “Can we hang out, Mister Henry?”

Vindik opened his mouth, probably to correct the girl's improper title, but the Terran waved him off. He smiled at her.

“What do you mean?”

“I don't want to go back to the dorms. I have no friends and the other kids don't like me.”

Henry crouched down and smiled at her. “Maybe they just haven't had a chance to meet you yet. You know it's pretty hard to meet new people.”

“Maybe.”

“Have you eaten?”

“No.”

Nodding his head like he made a decision, he stood and smiled at Vindik. “I'll take her for now. We're going to get something to eat. I don't think we need to worry her mom. If you can let her know that she's with me when it's appropriate, that'll be fine.”

“As you will, my master.” The ground legion Arch Maid said with a bow. He then signaled towards a small powered cart that a maid was driving. It had an open trunk behind it loaded with tools.

“Nushi,” Vindik said and the female maid driving it stopped the vehicle. “Take our lord and this young lady back to the estate, and then you can deliver those parts to Section 3-B.”

“Yes, Arch Maid,” the girl said with a nod from her seat.

---

The electric cart rattled its way back up the dirt road, Vevet perched between Henry and the trunk full of tools, her curls whipping in the wind. She kept glancing at him probably not sure if this was real and Henry found himself grinning despite the mountain of paperwork waiting on his tablet.

By the time Nushi dropped them at the steps of the mansion, Vevet had declared “the best thing that happened all week,” which made Henry smile. Vevet finally looked like she was having a good time.

“Alright,” Henry said, offering his hand as she hopped down. “Let's get you fed.”

He led her around to the shaded patio that overlooked the eastern gardens, the one with the low stone table and the cushioned benches Siv liked to complain nobody ever used. A passing maid, young, dark-haired, froze mid-step at the sight of her lord walking a strange child through the estate.

“Could you bring us something to eat?” Henry asked. “Something a child would like. And tea, if we have the mild blend.”

“Of...of course, my master,” she stammered, and hurried off.

Vevet settled onto the bench, swinging her legs since they didn't reach the ground, and looked around at the gardens, the marble columns, the fountain trickling somewhere out of sight. Her expression had gone soft and a little dazed.

“This is really your house?”

“Part of it. It's a big house.”

“It's so pretty.” She smoothed her hands over the skirt of her tan dress. “I feel like a lady.”

Henry looked at her, at the too-big eyes and the bow that had slid halfway down her hair and the way she was trying very hard to sit up straight. He grinned at her.

“You know,” he said, leaning forward with a serious nod. “I think you're right.”

Vevet blinked at him.

“As Lord of Blue Blossom,” Henry continued, straightening in his seat, “I hereby declare that for the remainder of this day, Miss Vevet of Fuvusheemee shall be recognized as a shivkihanxa, Lady of Honor of this household.”

For a moment she just stared at him, working out whether he was joking. Then her whole face lit up.

“Really?”

“Really. It's official.” He nodded.

“Do... I get a title?”

The young man nodded. “Lady Vevet, I think.”

Somehow, the little girl found a way to sit up even straighter.

Nish Kevet appeared from the direction of the kitchens before Henry had even settled back into his seat, a tray balanced against one hip and her usually practiced quiet, though the glint in her eye said she'd caught every word of the declaration from somewhere just out of sight.

“Lady Vevet,” she said, coming to a stop before the bench, placing the tray on the table, and giving a low bow. “An honor to serve you.”

Vevet's mouth fell open.

“I heard my masters' order,” Nish Kevet went on, beginning to set out the food from the tray as if royalty had been present. Flatbread, a little dish of fruit cut into careful pieces, a small pot of tea steaming faintly in the afternoon light. “I hope you find the food to your satisfaction.”

“I've never had anyone bow to me before,” Vevet whispered to Henry, her eyes large as saucers.

A hint of a smile showed up in the corner of Nish's mouth as she finished pouring the tea for Henry and grape juice for the little one.

“Is there anything else, master? My Lady?”

“Thank you, Nish. That'll be all.”

The afternoon went on as Henry and Vevet finished their food and began to explore the house itself. The wide-eyed curiosity reminded him of his little sister Annabelle when they were gallivanting around the fields and barns in search for adventure. At the library, she had fun climbing the ladders and examining the books. What started out as a quest to find more information on Dayflitters turned into an hour's worth of pulling books off of shelves, flipping through the references, getting distracted by the pictures in a short story collection, and then playing with the globes and tracing fingers on maps. At the kitchens, Burdak made sure to stuff her full of more sweets and candy which probably was Vevet's favorite room. They made their way back to the library as Henry felt that was the best place to keep her out of everyone's hair, it was quiet, and he avoided the paperwork that was probably growing.

Henry was in the middle of showing Vevet his home world on a holographic projector on the desk located here when he heard the tapping steps of someone approaching. The door swung open and Maevin strode in.

“There you are,” Maevin's started and then stopped entirely.

Henry turned to find her standing in the doorway of the study, one hand still on the frame, staring at the small girl currently perched in his lap staring intently at the slowly rotating holographic globe.

“My master?” Maevin's eyes moved from Vevet, to the empty dishes, to the half-dozen books stacked haphazardly on the reading table, and back to Henry. “There is a child here.”

“This is Lady Vevet,” Henry said, with formality, but he couldn't keep the grin off his face which caused Maevin's delicate eyebrow to raise in consternation. “She's visiting.”

“A lady,” Maevin repeated.

“Lady of Honor Vevet of Fuvusheemee,” Vevet said but when she looked up, her voice had gone smaller, and she'd gone very still probably realizing who was there. She glanced at Henry, then back at Maevin.

“Ah.”

“She got lost early this morning, she's new to the planet. Her mom works for Vindik. She asked for help and well...we got distracted.”

“I see.”

Vevet's relaxed a bit. “Am I in trouble?”

“Of course not,” Maevin said a warm smile crossing her face. “This place is big, and I can understand getting lost.”

The Mistress turned to Henry and sighed. “That would explain why Arch Maid Mal and a harvester are here.”

“Mommy?” Vevet asked.

“I believe so. Shall we go check?” Maevin offered extending her hand. The young girl scrambled off of Henry kicking him a few times with her shoes in the effort to escape and skipped out the door with the Mistress. Henry followed close behind.

The three of them came down the main staircase together, Vevet still chattering about star charts, one hand tucked into Henry's and the other in Maevin's. They found Vindik already there, standing beside a woman who looked like she hadn't taken a full breath in the last several minutes.

She was still in her field clothes, the pale pink of her harvester's wrap dusted with dirt at the hem. The moment her eyes landed on Vevet, something in her face cracked open with relief, and then, a half second later, seemed to collapse entirely as she registered exactly who was holding her daughter's hand.

“Mommy!” Vevet let go and bolted the last few steps across the marble, and the woman dropped to her knees to catch her, burying her face briefly in her daughter's hair.

“Vevet, sweetheart, oh.” She pulled back just enough to look her over, hands running along her shoulders, her arms, as if checking for herself that nothing was broken or missing. “How did you wind up here?” Her voice caught as her gaze lifted past her daughter's head and found Henry standing a few paces back.

“It's a long story,” Henry laughed.

She went very, very pale.

“My master,” She was on her feet in an instant, Vevet still gathered against her side, and dropped into a bow so low and so fast Henry half worried she'd overbalance. “Shinka Aeshma, my master, I am so, I don't know she had left the dorms or that she found her way in to the estate...”

“Shinka.” Henry said trying to be gentle. “Accidents happened and she asked for help. I'm proud of her for that.”

“I understand if there are consequences, I'll accept whatever.” The words were coming too fast now, her eyes darting between Henry and Maevin, who had come to stand a little behind him, and Shinka's bow deepened further at the sight of her, if that were possible. “Mistress. I am so sorry, I never meant for her to be underfoot!”

“Ease, harvester,” This time it was Maevin who spoke, and something in her voice, level, unhurried, entirely without the edge Shinka seemed braced for, cut through the spiral.

“Your daughter is safe, and our master has spent time with her to keep her that way,” Maevin said. “You have not committed anything egregious worth punishing. All I ask is you take steps you need to keep your daughter comfortable at the dorms.”

Henry knew that it wasn't actually a request but a command.

“But make sure she has a chance to meet the other children there. Only the best for my Lady of Honor.”

Shinka blinked. Blinked again. Looked down at Vevet, who was practically vibrating with the need to confirm this herself.

“It's true, Mommy! I'm Lady Vevet! Arch maid Kevet bowed to me and I had grape juice and Arch Maid Rikol gave me candy and Mister Henry let me play with the globe in the library. I had so much fun!”

The words tumbled out of her in one long breathless rush, and somewhere in the middle of it, Henry watched the terror mount as her daughter listed off three of the most powerful people on the estate.

“I'm so sorry,” she managed again.

“Nothing to apologize for,” Henry said, crouching briefly to Vevet's level one last time. “Your daughter's good company. She's welcome here anytime, through the front door this time, not by accident.”

Vevet giggled at that, and even Shinka managed something close to a laugh, still shaking from the adrenalin.

“Take her home,” Maevin said ordered. “I imagine it's been a long day for both of you.”

Shinka bowed once more, took her daughter's hand and led her towards the door. At the door, though, Vevet twisted back around, pulling her mother to a half-stop.

“Bye, Mister Henry!” She lifted her chin with all the dignity she'd been practicing since the patio. “It was an honor to be your lady.”

“The honor was ours, Lady Vevet,” Henry said, with a small bow of his own.

Vevet beamed, and let her mother lead her out into the evening light, still clutching her twist of candy like a trophy, already talking a mile a minute about globes and star charts and dayflitters all over again.

As the place grew quiet and maybe a bit duller, he turned to Maevin who was studying him.

“What? She was lost.”

“You could have just had a maid take her home.”

“Well...”

“The things you get yourself into, Master,” Maevin laughed softly. “Now, I think it's time you get back to your paperwork.”

This afternoon, IndyCar racing. We'll be following FOX coverage of the Freedom 250 Grand Prix. Prerace coverage is airing now, and the green flag to start the race is scheduled to drop at 12:10 PM CTD.

And the adventure continues.

Change hurts. But so does staying the same.

I was terrified of a few things as a kid:

1. Glowing red eyes in the dark 2. Having my feet molested 3. The wrath of my parents 4. Cicada husks

You know the ones.


Those empty exoskeletons clinging to tree trunks, fence posts, and brick walls—tiny monster shells with hook-like feet and slit backs, like something that crawled out of a horror movie and left its skin behind.

My cousins thought it was hilarious to pluck them off trees and stick them in people’s hair.

Ugh.

I'm an adult now, and they still give me the creeps.
 The irony? I actually like cicadas. The real, living ones.

I recently read a great Bukowski poem where he complains that “cicada” is used too much in poetry—like it’s a literary silver bullet.
 Use the word cicada, and boom: you’re published.

cicada

writers love to use the word “cicada” in a poem. it makes them believe that they are there, that they have done it. every time I see this word in a poem, I think, damn it, haven't the editors caught on yet? that it's a con? a way to milk the game?

and look at me: here I'm using it: “cicada.” well, that means that this poem surely will get published. see? it works.

Cicada, cicada, cicada.

Poof!


Beetle-cicada appears , dressed in black and white stripes like some kind of gothic referee and grants you publishing.

I won't wait for the check on this one.

What's wild is how they spend most of their lives underground—quiet, unseen, gnawing on roots, cool and hidden from birds and beetles and snakes. 
 Then one day, it's time.
 They rise.
 Transform.
 Sing their strange song.

They become summer.

---

Last night, I dreamed I was having breakfast with a giant cicada. Everything it said came out in that raspy ch-ch-ch-ch sound, but somehow, I understood perfectly.

It liked the tea.
 The eggs, not so much.
 (It poked at them with a claw and muttered something that sounded judgey.)

After breakfast, it handed me a tiny black helmet—custom-made for my dream head—and motioned for me to climb onto the back of its motorcycle.


Well, not exactly a motorcycle.


It was more like a cross between a mandolin, a grasshopper, and a comet.

We zipped through clouds, dodged between Saturn's rings, and finally landed on a shimmering planet where the trees glowed blue and hummed softly.


Cicadas. Everywhere.


Not just insects, but tall, glistening beings—armored, radiant, some still cracking open their backs to let their new selves crawl out into the light. These beings weren't living underground for seventeen years.

My cicada guide turned to me.


“Ch-ch-ch,” it said.


Then it offered me a thin blade made of light and pointed to my chest.

It was asking me to molt.

I hesitated.


Tried to laugh it off.


But my hands were shaking.

I looked down at my body—soft, unfinished, full of pressure just beneath the skin.
 I could feel the new me beneath it, wriggling for air. But I was terrified.


I was afraid of the change.

Afraid of what I’d leave behind. What it might mean to become something else—something I’ve always been, just hidden under a layer of politeness, duty, fear, routine, marriage, roles.

What if I shed my old skin and people looked at what I used to be and recoiled?


Not because it was ugly, necessarily, but because it was real.
 Because it wasn’t neat or acceptable or easy to explain.

What if they said,
 “Oh. So this is who you were all along?”


And worse—what if they were right?

But deep beneath that fear, in the marrow of the dream, in the hush between the cicada’s ch-ch-ch’s, I realized:


I am aching to molt.

I want to become the self I’ve half-dreamed but never dared to wake up as.
 The guy telling the truth, even when it hurts.
 A creature walking away from the roles that no longer fit.
 The one who chooses aliveness over approval.


Who writes something so raw it makes people gasp.


Who kisses someone in the rain without checking if it’s allowed.
 Finally admiting he’s tired of being obedient.
 Who wants more than endurance.
 Who wants to feel joy and danger and awe and yes.

Yes.

That’s the sound the cicada really made, I think.


Not ch-ch-ch.


But yes yes yes.


Yes to transformation.


Yes to exposure.


Yes to the strange, shimmering self inside the husk.

But still, I couldn’t do it.
 Not yet.

Even in a dream, I couldn’t crack open.
 And that’s okay.
 A dream isn't asking me to molt.
 Just showing me that I could.

My guide, revved the mandolin-comet-bike. And we rocketed back to home.

Without change, we all end up on The Road to Nowhere

Close My Eyes Forever

Any World (Will Do)

---

#dream #essay #journal #writing #music #cicada

---

2025-08-07 18:00:00

Chastity exists at the middle point between lust and repression; Temperance exists at the middle point between gluttony and asceticism; Diligence exists at the middle point between laziness and obsession; Patience exists at the middle point between wrath and apathy; Charity exists at the middle point between greed and self-neglect; Kindness exists at the middle point between envy and indulgence; Humility exists at the middle point between pride and self-abasement.

We are anonymous. We are everywhere. We choose to forgive. We choose to remember. Here we are: As above, so below.

Self-awareness is crucial in understanding virtues and vices. All virtues are the middle point. Any virtue in excess becomes its opposite deficiency, yet a vice remains a vice. It's important to recognize when we self-identify with an excessive virtue, as this creates the very imbalance we seek to resolve.

Desire and aversion are two opposite poles. Neither desire nor aversion represents the middle point. I state that desire and aversion are both expressions of egoic attachment—opposite manifestations of the same error. Comprehension is the middle point that leads one to liberation; desire is attachment, and aversion is rejection.

Chastity, diligence, humility, patience, charity, temperance, and kindness are all virtues. Chastity in excess becomes repression; diligence in excess becomes obsession; excess humility becomes self-abasement; excess charity becomes self-neglect; excess temperance becomes asceticism; and excess kindness becomes indulgence. Excess (as we know) is an adjective that transforms virtue into its opposite deficiency. Any vice (namely lust, laziness, pride, greed, gluttony, and envy) propels one toward the opposing deficiency.

To restore the balance within oneself is to comprehend these two opposing errors to discover what is true: Both man and woman are humble. Humility is the middle point between pride and self-abasement. A man and a woman who embody humility never take titles. Titles create bipolarity—either prideful or self-abasing; both are errors.

Virtue is the middle point, the law of balance. Embracing life's challenges with this understanding brings centeredness in all aspects of existence.

Matthew 23:12 clearly states that he who exalts himself will be humbled, yet he who humbles himself will be exalted.

A hero recognizes himself as a work in progress, as we are all transforming before our Innermost. All fornicators begin as unconscious beings.

In the name of truth, no one is born a hero. A hero emerges through genuine love for humanity and countless sacrifices for others.

This consciousness does not enter automatically. One earns the right to be a hero through deeds of goodness, including genuine sacrifice for others. The right to be a hero is also measured by how much love others have given you as a result of your work.

It is never enough to say, “I am a hero.” One must prove oneself worthy of genuine love and sacrifice for others to be recognized as a hero.

A hero transcends duality, neither good nor evil, but beyond both. There is no good or evil, only purity and impurity. Even a hero knows that the path with excellent intentions leads one to the Abyss. This identification with heroism leads to knightfall.

A hero becomes a protagonist to those for whom he has sacrificed and loved.

There is a woman who is also a protagonist. She sacrifices herself through genuine love for others. She is a heroine.

How blessed are the hero and heroine in romantic love, working together to sacrifice themselves for the love of others.

There exists another type of hero that transcends the everyday. He possesses magical powers, driven by genuine love and commitment to sacrifice for others. He is a magician, or a superhero; a woman is also a magician, or a superheroine.

“Jesus said to his disciples: 'Things that cause people to stumble are bound to happen, but woe to anyone through whom they happen'” – Luke 17:1

There exists an antithesis of a hero. It is he, a fallen hero, who consumes the forbidden fruit, thus turning himself to impurity. The hero who fornicates enters knightfall. It is he who turns to wickedness and works for the flesh. In the name of truth, he is a villain.

When a heroine falls into impurity and works for the flesh, she is a villainess. A woman who has lost her way is a villainess.

A villain calls others villains while believing himself to be a hero. These are true traits of a sorcerer.

Even a rightful hero or heroine (even a superhero or superheroine) might be called a villain, and the one who calls a rightful hero or heroine a villain is himself a villain.

These fallen individuals, formerly heroes and heroines, are the true antagonists.

These antagonists are those who awaken impurity in response to impurity. They perceive only the impurity within others, never the goodness within others.

One must never underestimate these antagonists, for they possess sharp and sly intellects.

Beware of their talents in the arts of sorcery and witchcraft. A villain who possesses these powers becomes a supervillain. Watch out for a sorceress, a villainess who wields these magical powers, for sorcery and witchcraft are often associated with supervillainesses. These super-antagonists are the most dangerous people alive, yet they subject themselves to their second death.

The sorcerer's archenemy is indeed a magician; yet, a magician's archenemy is a sorcerer.

Now you know, my friend, the knowledge of a hero and a villain. No one is born a hero or a villain; you will know them by their fruits. A pure fruit is a hero or a heroine. An impure fruit is a villain or a villainess. The right to be a hero emerges within ourselves through genuine love and sacrifice for others.

Selecting a UAV motor is not a matter of finding the largest power figure and attaching a propeller. A motor sits inside a complete propulsion system that includes the battery, electronic speed controller, wiring, connectors, propeller, airframe, cooling path, flight controller, and mission profile. A good integration process therefore starts with aircraft requirements and finishes with measured evidence. The motor is one important component in the middle of that process.

The UNITED UAV T-MOTOR MN5212 KV340 Navigator UAV Motor is a useful example for explaining this system-level approach. The current UNITED UAV listing identifies it as the KV340 version in T-MOTOR's Navigator range and presents CW and CCW ordering options. It is positioned for professional multirotor, VTOL, and fixed-wing UAV projects. This guide does not declare the motor suitable for every aircraft in those categories. Instead, it shows the questions an engineer, integrator, or experienced builder should answer before choosing it.

Start with the mission, not the catalog

Before looking at motor data, define what the aircraft must do. Record the target maximum takeoff mass, normal operating mass, desired flight time, expected payload, takeoff method, cruise condition, maximum climb requirement, operating altitude, ambient temperature range, and acceptable noise envelope. A multirotor that carries a camera over infrastructure has a different propulsion duty cycle from a mapping VTOL that climbs vertically and then cruises on its wing. A fixed-wing pusher motor may spend most of the mission at moderate throttle, while a lift motor on a VTOL may experience short, demanding vertical phases followed by cooling time.

These differences affect the meaning of every electrical figure. A brief maximum-power value is not a continuous operating target. A system that survives a short bench run may still overheat during repeated climbs, hot-weather hovering, or low-speed operation with weak cooling airflow. The design requirement should specify both peak and sustained conditions, together with a reserve appropriate to the aircraft and mission. If the operating envelope is unknown, motor selection is premature.

Understand what KV340 tells you

KV is commonly described as unloaded revolutions per minute per volt. The MN5212 version discussed here is identified as KV340. That number is useful, but it is not a thrust rating and it does not tell you the correct propeller by itself. Actual speed under load depends on battery voltage, voltage sag, ESC behavior, propeller torque demand, winding temperature, and mechanical losses. Two systems using the same motor can produce very different current, thrust, noise, and efficiency results when their propellers or supply voltages differ.

The current product information lists a 4-8S operating range, a short-duration maximum power value of 840 W, and a listed current limit of 35 A. Treat these values as boundaries to be checked against the latest manufacturer data, not as instructions to operate continuously at the boundary. The useful design point is normally below the limiting condition and must be established with the intended propeller, battery, ESC, and airflow. The system should retain electrical and thermal headroom for manufacturing variation, aging, weather, maneuvering, and voltage changes across the discharge cycle.

Build a complete power budget

A propulsion power budget should account for every motor at the same time. For a multirotor, multiply the measured per-motor current by the number of active motors, then add avionics, payload, pumps, communication equipment, and conversion losses. For a VTOL, calculate the vertical-lift and forward-flight groups separately, but also consider transition states in which more than one group may be active. The battery must support the real combined current without excessive voltage sag or unacceptable temperature rise.

ESC selection requires similar discipline. Its voltage rating must match the battery, and its continuous and transient current capability must exceed measured demand with an engineering margin. Timing and firmware settings should be appropriate for the motor and propeller combination. Wiring, solder joints, connectors, distribution boards, fuses where applicable, and current sensors must be sized for the same current path. A high-quality motor cannot compensate for a connector that heats, a cable that is too small, or a distribution board with inadequate copper area.

Energy planning should use measured watt-hours rather than relying only on the battery's nominal amp-hour label. Record voltage and current throughout the representative mission, include the intended reserve at landing, and repeat the test with an aged or conservatively modeled battery. This produces a more honest endurance estimate than dividing a nominal battery capacity by a single current reading.

Match the propeller through evidence

The propeller determines much of the load seen by the motor. Diameter, pitch, blade count, airfoil, stiffness, manufacturing tolerance, and operating speed all matter. Even a small change can move current and temperature significantly. Use current manufacturer thrust data for the exact motor winding when available, then verify the candidate on a calibrated test stand. Do not substitute results from another KV version without recalculating and testing the system.

A useful bench record includes supply voltage, current, electrical power, rotational speed, thrust, ambient temperature, motor temperature, ESC temperature, propeller identity, and run duration. Test several throttle points, not only full throttle. For aircraft that hover, spend enough time near the expected hover condition to observe thermal stabilization. For fixed-wing or VTOL cruise propulsion, reproduce the likely continuous load and cooling airflow as closely as practical. Stop if vibration, noise, temperature, or current becomes abnormal.

Propeller safety is essential. Use a guarded test area, secure the test stand, keep people out of the propeller plane, wear appropriate protection, and establish an immediate power-disconnect method. A motor-propeller combination stores substantial energy even when the aircraft itself is not moving.

Plan the mechanical installation

The current listing publishes dimensions of approximately 59 by 33.5 mm and a motor weight of 249 g. It also lists a 24N22P magnetic configuration. These details help with preliminary layout and mass calculations, but a mechanical drawing and the latest manufacturer specification should govern the final mounting design. Confirm the hole pattern, shaft and propeller interface, arm clearance, cable exit direction, fastener diameter, and permitted screw depth before installation.

Mounting screws that are too long can contact internal parts. Screws that are too short, improperly torqued, or installed without an appropriate retention method can loosen under vibration. The motor mount and arm should be stiff enough to prevent harmful deflection while avoiding unnecessary mass. Route phase wires away from sharp edges, hot surfaces, antennas, sensors, and rotating components. Provide strain relief so cable motion is not transferred directly to solder joints or winding leads.

Balance must be considered at the component and aircraft levels. A balanced propeller can still create vibration if its hub does not seat correctly or if the motor mount is distorted. Compare vibration data across equivalent arms after installation. One arm that consistently differs from the others deserves investigation before flight. Sources may include propeller imbalance, fastener condition, bearing damage, arm resonance, cable contact, or inconsistent assembly.

Treat CW and CCW as ordering and assembly controls

The current UNITED UAV product data lists CW and CCW options. Direction labels must be handled carefully because different manufacturers may use them to describe motor configuration, thread direction, or intended propeller rotation. Confirm the meaning in the latest product documentation and match it to the aircraft's motor map, propeller, and retention hardware. Do not rely on a label alone.

Create an installation record for each aircraft position: motor SKU, selected CW or CCW option, propeller part number, ESC identity, rotation direction, fastener specification, and commissioning result. During the first unloaded check, remove the propeller and verify rotation at low power. Correct a reversed direction through the approved ESC or wiring method before installing the propeller. After installation, conduct a second low-power check with the aircraft restrained and the test area controlled.

Design for cooling across the real duty cycle

Cooling depends on more than outdoor temperature. Hovering near the ground, operating inside a partial enclosure, carrying a large payload at low speed, or using a propeller that demands excessive torque can reduce thermal margin. VTOL lift motors may experience intense heating during takeoff and landing even if the average mission power appears moderate. Fixed-wing installations can receive good airflow in cruise but weak cooling during ground operation or slow climb.

Place temperature sensors where they produce repeatable, useful information and define an inspection method that can be repeated across tests. Infrared measurements require consistent surface emissivity and viewing geometry. Embedded sensors provide a different view and should be installed without weakening insulation or obstructing airflow. Evaluate the motor and ESC together because either can become the limiting component. If temperature continues rising rather than stabilizing at the intended continuous condition, the configuration needs to change.

Altitude also changes propulsion behavior. Lower air density can reduce propeller thrust and cooling while prompting the control system to demand more throttle. A system validated at sea level cannot automatically be assumed to retain the same margin at a high-altitude operating site. Use a performance model, apply appropriate correction, and confirm with local testing when the mission justifies it.

Commission the propulsion system in stages

A staged commissioning process makes faults easier to isolate. Begin with a receiving inspection: verify the exact model and winding, check for shipping damage, rotate the motor by hand, inspect leads and connectors, and confirm that the ordered direction option matches the installation record. Next, install the motor without a propeller and verify mounting, wiring, sensor readings, ESC communication, and rotation direction.

Then perform a restrained ground test using the intended propeller. Increase power gradually while monitoring current, voltage, speed, vibration, and temperature. Compare equivalent motors rather than evaluating each result in isolation. If one unit draws more current or runs hotter at the same command and propeller, stop and find the cause. Only after the propulsion group behaves consistently should the aircraft proceed to a low-risk initial flight.

The first flight should use conservative mass, weather, altitude, and maneuver limits. Review logs immediately afterward. Look for unexpected throttle asymmetry, voltage sag, ESC desynchronization, vibration peaks, temperature growth, and control saturation. Expand the operating envelope one step at a time, keeping a record of the configuration used for every test. Changing a propeller, ESC setting, battery, firmware version, or mass distribution creates a new configuration that may require partial revalidation.

Maintain condition after entry into service

Reliability is not established by a successful first flight. Create inspection intervals based on flight hours, cycles, environment, and mission consequence. A basic check should look for abnormal bearing play, roughness, unusual sound, heat discoloration, damaged insulation, loose fasteners, propeller-seat wear, connector movement, contamination, and changes in vibration or current. Operations in dust, moisture, salt, chemicals, or abrasive material require more frequent attention and cleaning methods compatible with the motor and aircraft.

Trend data is especially valuable. A slow increase in hover current, temperature, or vibration may reveal degradation before a visible failure appears. Compare data under similar mass and environmental conditions, and distinguish motor changes from battery aging, propeller damage, or airframe problems. Define removal criteria before an operator is under schedule pressure. A questionable motor should not remain in service merely because it still rotates.

Apply the process to different aircraft types

For a multirotor, the central questions are hover efficiency, reserve thrust, thermal behavior, arm-to-arm consistency, and safe control after foreseeable disturbances. The propulsion calculation must use the complete aircraft mass and account for the number of motors. For an inspection aircraft, long hover periods and low forward speed may make cooling and endurance more important than a brief maximum-thrust result.

For a VTOL, analyze vertical lift, transition, and cruise as separate phases. A motor used only for lift still needs evaluation over repeated takeoff and landing cycles, including a possible rejected transition or go-around. If the MN5212 is considered for forward propulsion, the propeller and cooling environment may differ from those of a lift installation. Avoid transferring test conclusions between the two roles without evidence.

For a fixed-wing aircraft, the design point may be continuous cruise power plus a defined climb requirement. Propeller clearance, pusher or tractor airflow, fuselage interaction, launch method, and ground cooling can become dominant. A bench test is necessary, but an installed test is also important because the airframe changes the airflow and vibration environment.

Use a procurement checklist

Before ordering, confirm the exact MN5212 KV340 model, quantity, CW or CCW option, voltage plan, intended propeller, ESC model, mounting geometry, connector strategy, and required documentation. Check the current product page rather than relying on a saved screenshot or data for a different winding. If a thrust calculation depends on a value that is not clearly documented, request clarification before purchase.

Also plan spares and configuration control. A spare motor is useful only if its winding, direction option, connectors, firmware-dependent ESC settings, and mounting hardware match the approved aircraft configuration. Record serial or batch information when available and keep acceptance-test results with the aircraft maintenance history. This makes replacement faster without turning it into an uncontrolled component substitution.

Final selection perspective

The MN5212 KV340 can be evaluated as part of professional multirotor, VTOL, and fixed-wing propulsion designs, but the product name and published limits are only the beginning. A defensible selection connects mission requirements to a complete power budget, exact propeller data, mechanical integration, staged testing, and continued condition monitoring. That process is more work than choosing from a catalog table, but it produces evidence that operators, maintainers, and engineering teams can use.

Review the current T-MOTOR MN5212 KV340 product page, or contact UNITED UAV for product-selection and quotation support. For the broader catalog, visit the UNITED UAV store.

Publisher: UNITED UAV Official

Our Prime Minister knew that the CUSMA trade agreement was up for review this summer. Months ago he assembled a team of economics experts who would negotiate new trade deals when the time came. I, just a random nobody Canadian citizen, with very limited knowledge of politics and economics, am not even slightly surprised by the news that the trade negotiations collapsed. There is absolutely no way that our team of experts didn't anticipate this happening. In fact, I think that I (and our team) would have been more surprised if they had walked away with a deal.

I bet most of what they have been working on as a team has been based on the assumption that it would turn out exactly this way. I picture them maybe briefly pondering the possibilities of a logical and fair deal for both countries, but likely not wasting too much precious time on it.

They would have been like, ok then, now that we've figured out what would be best for both countries, lets forget about that, and move on to things more likely to occur with this fucking failure of a regime.

We sent the best of our best to the table, to meet with the worst of their worst. Our people went there to make beneficial deals. They met with our (supposed) allies who were sent to the table only to take and take. Likely a bunch of unqualified bootlicker morons like most in the regime. Their boss says, lick, and they say, where exactly would you like the licking to occur (wink wink), oh glorious bully, and for how long shall our licking go on?

Forever subservient to the dilapidated old clown who really needs to specify which Americans he means when he says America First. He certainly doesn't mean, and has never meant, the majority of the American population. America First is not about the working class consumers who suffer the most for his endless failures. Most likely, like everything else he has ever done, it is all about the top one percent, the richest of the rich. They come first, above all. Or maybe to him there really is simply no one other than them.

America First also means, fuck (over) everyone else on the entire planet. A fair deal is a fail. Generosity is a fail. Helping is a fail. Really anything contributing to the success of humanity, that a real world leader in his position should be striving to achieve in 2026, is a complete fail to him. The deal has to be maximum taking, taking, taking, for himself, the regime, and for the billionaires they serve, or no deal at all.

I've noticed quite a lot of similarities between what he is trying to 'accomplish' in America, and what The Taliban has 'accomplished' in Afghanistan. He wants to be dictator of an isolated and feared country that chooses warfare over diplomacy. Bombs for the enemy, bad deals for the ally, and fuck all the citizens he claims to be 'a leader of'. He wants 'those people' to be desperate, endangered, broke, uneducated, silenced, hungry, diseased, scared, and to be stripped of all their rights.

And yet he still has supporters. ? ? They must be excited about the ballroom they will never get near. The ballroom with a million dollar cover charge, mandatory orifice and strip search at the entrance for staff and guests. How much are they spending on gold paint? Will they make the statue of him look as though he's healthy, or will they make it look like the unhealthy sagging blob that he actually is? Have the designers and builders ever designed and built anything before? Are they familiar with 1940's Germany decor? Will the merch table be in the lobby or in the corner of the ballroom? Fucking ballroom. Who even uses that word anymore? Like, what next, will there be a cotillion in the ballroom? Is there really a secret bunker under it? A gigantic sealed tomb for the scared man-baby leader to hide in. If it's secret then why does everyone know about it? How thick are the walls? Will it have a door like a bank vault? Will they sneak him in there in a catering truck?

It is that time of the week where I do my weekly update without really saying anything. This one will be much the same.

This past week was rough. There were a few days that were exceptionally rough. The week isn't just a blur. Really the whole month is a blur. This morning, someone I speak to every day, said that this is the first day in a month where I sound like myself. I was admittedly slightly offended because I thought I do very well at hiding when I don't feel well. And I have made extra effort to do so. I'm going to have to work on that.

I don't have a lot to say on it all. I haven't had this kind of stomach issues and migraines in a while, I think. Not for so long. It's still not over. But at least it's livable right now. There was one day, where I would not have minded if it had just taken me out.

I get eyes rolled at me quite a bit or told I'm being too sensitive when I say I can't do something or I can't eat something. I get why people think that. If it's minor and I've been really strict with myself for months, the discomfort that it will cause me is not something that I really show or acknowledge even to myself because I just don't acknowledge pain until it reaches certain levels. When you live with very high levels of chronic pain for decades and you have experienced extreme amounts of acute pain, your brain and nervous system kind of starts to rewire what pain is to you.

For me, personally, there seems to be a line. I think I am subconsciously aware that things are there, but it doesn't register for me to do something until it's close to that line or has already passed it. At that point, it is too late. My ex used to say to me that he did not understand how I could be so sensory sensitive on the one hand, but completely oblivious on the other hand.

It's kind of true that I am like that. I can feel the most subtle of breeze or vibration in a room, but not realize that I'm getting too cold until I am already spasming extremely hard from being too cold. In fact, sometimes I feel hot and want to be colder. Right now I want to be colder. It is 65° in my apartment. I should be fine. I am this close to sweating. If I start sweating I will break out into hives. Alas, I actually need to turn my AC up because the morning is starting and dropping your temperature by 40 and 50° makes the AC very unhappy.

I am rambling just so I don't have to say anything. This time was bad. I really can't eat such things out of convenience. It sucks whenever you're hurting so bad that you really aren't capable of standing up very long. I do have food in the freezer that has been prepped and cooked. Absolutely delicious food. The very thought of it makes me nauseous. That is concerning, because it is my main staple. I'm not sure what to think about that right now.

Let's see... mental health. Where is mine? Probably okay until I start thinking. Thinking can get you in trouble sometimes. Especially if you are fond of understanding things. There is bliss in ignorance. I don't know.

I also got invited to go somewhere this week that would be nice to go to. I said no. I really don't get in cars with strangers. I especially do not go off on a long distance trip with strangers. Even if I do know one person that would mean that I am subject to someone's rules that I don't know and dependent upon them for safety for an extended period of time. That is really not in my wheelhouse. I understand that people do it all the time, but I am not those people. There is a very good reason why I have not placed myself out there in the dating pool extensively. I trust no one. 🤣

I did do the trust thing a few times. I don't think the guy realizes when I said that I think he might chop me up into little pieces that I was being serious. Jokingly serious. I really just don't like to be dependent upon someone if I don't trust them explicitly. Very humorous, really. I'm going to have to get over that. Or maybe not.

In my youth, I went to places with people I barely knew quite often. As well as in my early adulthood. I was in a lot better shape then. Also, ignorance is bliss. Even still, I was always wary. I don't know. I also paid for it a few times. I have paid for it with people I've known exceptionally well, also. I guess it is little wonder why I am the way I am today, but I do understand that most people don't quite grasp it.

There is a beauty to aging. There are also things that suck about it. Seeing the world more clearly, really sucks. I used to laugh when people would say that a decade makes a difference. I was quite mature for my age when I was younger. But, I would say that every decade does seem to make quite a bit of a difference. Not for everyone. For persons like myself, I think it does.

Some people will perpetually be 13 years old both in actions and thoughts. I wonder what my 60s will bring me. I would acknowledge it partially scares me. I do not like the idea of being old and less capable in a society and world that is determined to destroy everything. I do not like it at all. I think I am better coming to terms with it, though.

I did not keep up with my chores well this past month and it shows. I think I should consider that. Anyway, I lost a pound. One would think I would have lost more, all things considered. I don't really care either way at the moment. I'm very tired and still in a considerable amount of pain. I would happily gain several pounds back if it would just give me some energy.

With all of that said, I am in a positive mindset, and I'm determined to have a good day.

© 2026 AnOublietteofThought. All rights reserved.

JOURNAL 23 août 2026

L'hôtel moche est désert, on dirait que le mauvais temps a découragé les touristes. Nos copains étaient contents de nous revoir, ils trouvent super que nous ne on soit pas rebutées, du coup on a dîné avec eux dans leur repaire. On appelle ça une paillote en français m'a dit A. Le patron nous a à la bonne, surtout A forcément qui boit plus sec qu'un homme, ça lui inspire un profond respect😃.

Bon l'ambiance est top copain copain, ils nous ont acceptées comme si on était des mecs, très étonnés de notre facilité à surfer. Ma princesse surtout on dirait qu'elle a fait ça toute sa vie. Moi c'est moins spectaculaire quand même je trouve, mais eux disent non c'est vachement bien. Bon, on est un peu claquées mine de rien…

#surf

Last night was not exactly one of the best nights ive had. i will not elaborate. not because there is some profound mystery behind it, but because i simply do not feel like giving it more attention than it already received. it happened. it was unpleasant. whatever. since she will be gone, though, i suppose i will return to writing every day. i will unfortunately have no one to complain to. so, again. unfortunately, i have decided that you will have to endure me again. yes, you. do not look so pleased with yourself now. you were not my first choice. you were simply available. there is a difference. but hey, congratulations. you are now the person i dump my thoughts on when i have nowhere else to put them. truly a dream job huh? No pay, no benefits, and surely no option to quit. i hope you feel honoured. anyway, i am mostly bored, if i am being honest. boredom has always been remarkably good at convincing me that whatever is inside my head deserves to be written down. usually, it does not. but I guess today i decided to disagree with myself. i have also been feeling tired lately. not the usual sort of tired where sleep fixes it and i wake up pretending i am a functional person again. it feels deeper i would say, my body feels as though it is slowly losing whatever energy it used to have. my bones feel heavier. i dont feel as strong as i used to, and, unfortunately, i have noticed it. the spleen issue is whatever. it has been whatever for a while. except it is not feeling as whatever this time. everything around me requires me to be aware now, quick, and ready to notice something before it happens and deal with it before it becomes a problem. while i thought i was good at it with whatever issues i got, i used to be good at that. id liked to believe it for a while. even when i was in the other city doing my “work,” i noticed that i was not as quick as i used to be, things took longer to process, and situations felt more complicated than they normally would have. perhaps im just becoming slower. im not thrilled that my body decided to become unreliable without bothering to give me a warning. or it did, whatever. there is that word again. my favourite little excuse for pretending something does not bother me.

Im bored, clearly. its probably why im writing all of this, maybe tomorrow i will have something worth saying. or maybe, i will complain about something completetly unrelated and random and call it a masterpiece. would sound like me. well, at least now you know what you are here for, you were not my first choice. you were simply the one i knew would still be here.

Embarrassing, honestly. dont forget to say cheese.

Sincerely, Your daily nuisance is back.

Let’s all start from the same place.

I plan on using the word “hostile” a bit this morning because it is precisely the word I mean. So I thought I would include the dictionary’s version here at the beginning so we are all on the same page:

Hostile means unfriendly, aggressive, or relating to an enemy. It describes people who show ill will, ideas that face open opposition, or environments that are harsh and unsafe.

Why definitions?

I like harsh and unsafe. Inhospitable. Relating to an enemy. Unfriendly. That’s what I mean by the word. This is important, I feel. The meanings of words are not ‘choose your own adventure’, not options, not even up for debate, in my opinion. That makes meanings of sentences malleable and I don’t do that unless I am writing tunes or trying to be clever. With truth? With facts? Never. I aim to be clear. Hence definitions, sometimes.

Why so hostile?

Hostile is exactly the word I mean because that is exactly how it feels ‘out in the world.’ If someone disagrees with you on your favorite brand name, politicians, religion, or even pundit, there could be conflict. At least, folks act that way. At the guitar shop, at school, at home, even in bands, it makes for hostile living.

This is corporate life too, if you didn’t know. After all, there’s hostile takeovers, even recently. Folks from other companies or competitors are enemies. The rules are in the hands of those with the most money and power, not a set of ideals to protect everyone, enforced by everyone.

My corporate experience.

I worked a corporate job for a bit. Not too long, less than 2 years was all I could take before driving trucks. I also was in a union, then promoted to no union, as if that makes sense. Nothing about the corporate world appeals to me. I think folks get ruthless to the extent I can’t even be a part of it. I was in collections. At the time I was with a major cell phone carrier. They charged per text message back then. Every day I saw bills for thousands of dollars from teens running up text messages. It seriously bummed me out. Had to leave. Not that trucking was any better. Plenty of corporate bullshit in trucking too. I just didn’t have to screw over normal everyday people in trucking. Just had to worry about myself.

That was 20 years ago and it’s nothing but way more hostile now than then.

The reason, or at least one reason, is micro targeting. Folks might tell me, sure they get my data, “so what?” Well the answer to “so what?” is what they use that data for. Any social media is going to have you pegged in a short amount of time on a grid of brand names and gut reactions. They are going to cater to you not just your preferences, but things that get a reaction from you when they need it.

The culprit.

“Micro targeting collects personal data to build detailed user profiles. Companies and campaigns use this data to send hyper-specific ads or messages to small groups. It changes content to match a person's known fears, hopes, or habits.” -Google search.

They are lying to you, treat them as such.

If you do not know precisely when this happens, what it is about, and the person or corporation behind the campaign, you are being manipulated. No one knows the truth about so many things, yet we are certain of them to the point of hostility.

2016

The Trump 2016 campaign told Facebook users on both sides what they wanted to hear. The MAGAs got their bullshit, but the liberals got their bullshit too about staying home and not voting. This message was sent to both parties, proven, by the same campaign. ‘Staying Home’ was dressed like a liberal meme or pundit, but it was Trump’s micro targeting from a company called Cambridge Analytica. I’d only be mad at Trump. However, he only hired Cambridge Analytica in 2016 after Obama had used them in 2012. However, Cambridge had upped its game in 2016 to collect a record amount of data from third-party apps, surveys, and just playing on social media.

This was a decade ago, y’all. You wonder where these micro targeting sons-of-bitches are at now with the AI tech gone so crazy? Everyone is in the dark now. No one knows shit. Unless you really know, you don’t know anything.

The grid lines, yuck.

Not only has this obfuscated the truth, it has set up and reinforced phony dividing lines. See, when you are only told what you want to hear or what makes you spend money or go vote, you are like a veal of the mind. You are locked in place with a shallower way of thinking. “Digging deep” isn’t on the menu for your mentality. You are in a cage. People I love dearly harbor a contempt for groups of people that only exist in their head or across the world, which is still in their head. I know folks who think they know how things work, they do not. I know folks who think they know motivations and morals of politicians, they do not. I even know folks who think they know what will happen, they do not.

Are you sure???

If we are thinking clearly, looking at the evidence, the only conclusion is there’s a whole ton of things we do not know. Those are the things data contractors hide with their influence and brain washing. Anyone with an ounce of truth in them says “I don’t know” at the drop of a hat these days. Data contractors do not do this. They are liars.

Who stands a chance against data scientists armed with all your data? No one.

If you are on social media you are in a small group in these folks’ eyes. These folks consist of data scientists, bad ass computers, and a ton of your information. They are for hire. Good guys and bad guys both hire them. Could be a political effort like an election, or BREXIT (who also hired Cambridge Analytica, FYI), or it could be a favorite brand name pitting you against competitors. I have definitely seen it in energy drinks, big music acts, movie and TV streamers, even restaurants, and music gear. No one gets out alive.

So what do we do?

The only way I have found to combat the invasion of my mind from influence and manipulation is to get rid of social media and severely cut back time online. I have even gone to drastically reducing screen time. I have removed screens from the main music room. The reason is I can sense the stimulation of screens now, like coffee. That makes me receptive to manipulation. It’s just wanting to visit, but they know that. They cater to it, but in disguise as ‘friends.’ Most of the folks on my lists, I’d never met. They existed purely in my imagination. Maybe they’d have sent an email wishing me well. But maybe they’re brainwashed like I was.

• Side note, documentary recommendation..

A documentary I’d recommend is called “The Great Hack.” It is about Cambridge Analytica and it got me going researching data contractors. This one film made me see the world differently. Everything I have been able to find since points to its veracity. I even googled every fact I could find, google’s proud of these facts. Go figure.

Kelly Kintner, Editor

The Horse’s Mouth magazine

Stay entertained thanks to our Weekly Tracker giving you next week's Anticipated Movies & Shows, Most Watched & Returning Favorites, and Shows Changes & Popular Trailers.

Anticipated Movies

• Batman: Knightfall Part 1: Knightfall
• The Last Sunrise
• Idiots
• Puella Magi Madoka Magica the Movie -Walpurgisnacht: Rising-
• Legend of the White Dragon
• The Whisper Man
• ☆ Coyote vs. Acme
• The Dog Stars
• Buddy

Anticipated Shows

• ☆ You Maniac

Returing Favorites

• Totally Spies ! — Season 8
• Bookish — Season 2
• Leanne — Season 2
• Beauty in Black — Season 3
• Adults — Season 2
• ☆ Dark Matter — Season 2
• Vigil — Season 3
• Trigger Point — Season 4

Trending Shows Status Changes

• Outer Banks — Returning Series → Ended
• Lucky — Returning Series → Ended
• A Shop for Killers — Returning Series → Ended

Most Watched Movies this Week

• = Spider-Man: Brand New Day
• new Mutiny
• = The Invite
• +1 Minions & Monsters
• new Toy Story 5
• -4 The Last House
• = Obsession
• -4 The Odyssey
• new The End of Oak Street
• -4 Disclosure Day

Most Watched Shows this Week

• +1 Silo
• +2 Reacher
• = Ted Lasso
• new Lanterns
• = Lioness
• -5 House of the Dragon
• -1 Lucky
• -1 Stuart Fails to Save the Universe
• = Star Trek: Strange New Worlds
• = Furious

Popular Trailers

• I will not explain further. — Insidious: Out of the Further
• The plan: VENGEANCE. You down? — Mutiny
• Episode 6 Preview — Stuart Fails to Save the Universe
• SPA WEEKEND in cinemas today! — Spa Weekend
• The ground looks nice. — Fall 2: Deadpoint
• Official Trailer — Ghost Soldier
• Dune Insider Screenings — Dune: Part Three
• One month until Zach Cregger's Resident Evil crawls into cinemas September 18 — Resident Evil
• Season 6 Official Trailer — Slow Horses
• Pure fun, from start to finish. — The End of Oak Street

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Hi, I’m Kevin 👋. Product Manager at Trakt and creator of Rippple. If you’d like to support what I'm building, you can download Rippple for Trakt, explore the open source project, or go Trakt VIP.

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There's a bit in Robert Rodriguez's interview with Quentin Tarantino where Tarantino admits to being affected by how much of a commercial flop GRINDHOUSE turned out to be, and goes on to laugh about how Rodriguez doubled down and proceeded to come out with MACHETE and MACHETE KILLS.

Despite publication difficulties faced by THE SOLAR GRID, there's a part of me that would love to follow the Rodriquez method and double down and go on to make a series of short graphic novellas set in the world of THE SOLAR GRID anyway. Because you gotta admit, that would be kinda badass.

And if that doesn't shake away the whole “street-artist of the Egyptian revolution” thing that's become so intertwined with my reputation, I'm not exactly sure what else would.

#radar #journal

The world's first digital nomad: One Planet Journey interviews Steven K. Roberts.

Why Do Tech Bros Always Learn The Wrong Thing From Sci-fi? – Demonitzed on Youtube.

Music is a weapon – Chords and Discords on Youtube.

“Your eyes keep the world at a distance. You can look away from a horror film, you can step back from a painting, you can put down the book, or just close your eyes. But your ears can't do any of that. There's no such thing as earlids.” — Knrad, Chords and Discords.

#radar