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We've explored and written about and how it'll better your business, but if you still don't know what VR is, here's a recap. Virtual Reality is an immersive 360° video that, with proper gear, transports you to a new environment- virtually. As we mentioned in the post, virtual reality is the biggest asset to furthering businesses when used correctly. It has the ability to make a product more appealing to consumers, for everything from real estate to travel. From our research, we realized that this was due to the same reason marketing itself is successful- because it ties in our innate ability to feel things.
Penning Virtual Reality
There are certain journalists that focus on VR specifically to tell stories. When we looked closely at these cases, we became engrossed by them. Nonny de la Peña, a pioneer within VR Journalism, has spoken about why this technology works. In one of her pieces, she puts viewers in the middle of Syria from the perspective of a young girl, and a bomb goes off. Thus allowing us to experience what people in Syria have been going through every day since the beginning of the Civil War. This makes us invested in their struggle– we as viewers realize it could easily be our home being destroyed, or our children being brutally murdered, and feeling these losses through VR makes us want to take action to help Syrian refugees in any way we can. Nonny explains that people feel distant from these crises, but once they "experience" them themselves, even virtually, they become compelled to help.
Just imagine it: you look around you and are suddenly in the ruins of a refugee camp. You see a young girl singing, and people walking around the demolished buildings around you. Suddenly, a bomb detonates directly where you are. You and all the individuals surrounding you are attacked. The people dying through the civil war in Syria are no longer a distant "other"; you are now among them. Because of this sobering display of technology, we are equipped with the power to create social movements. Virtual Reality has the ability to move viewers, fueling a dialogue about these issues, and more importantly, to incite change.
Creating a Dialogue around Solitary Confinement
Our discussion around VR in journalism led us to discover that this year's Tribeca Film Festival will be dedicated in part to experimental filmmaking, comprised of immersive and virtual reality experiences. While the festival is mainly dedicated to the work of filmmakers, the hub will showcase virtual reality work by journalists. One festival piece in particular, "6×9: An Immersive Experience of Solitary Confinement" captivated us — the experience is a collaboration between Francesca Panetta and Lindsay Poulton of The Guardian. 6×9 at a rudimentary level makes viewers feel like they are in solitary confinement with a narrative-based experience. While viewers hear the voices and sounds of actual inmates, the goal is to recreate prison based upon what the viewer would experience as the main "protagonist."
The audio follows exactly what the viewers are looking at, and the creators even attempt to recreate the physical symptoms that come with solitary confinement. You look around and all you can see is an unlit cell with stark grey walls, a mattress, a sink, and a toilet. As you sit there, you hear prisoners in other cells screaming, but you cannot see them on any side of you. The only thing you can look at are the four grey walls. You stare at the walls, and your vision begins to distort into different shapes and blurriness. All you have are the screams of others around you, your hallucinations, and eventually, your own screams. This is the reality prisoners live solitary confinement experience for 23 hours a day, for months at a time. Panetta and Poulton's main goal is to force people to feel how inhumane the treatment of prison inmates can be, and they hope the piece can change laws about solitary confinement as a prison tactic.
More on the Prison System
To better understand 6×9, it's crucial to understand why The Guardian has strong opinions about the state of America's prisons. Surprisingly, it's increasingly popular in the arts to address issues within these systems. A popular examples of this is the Netflix original, Orange is The New Black (based on a book with the same name, by Piper Kerman). The show has several moments that are painful to watch, as inmates are harmed mentally and physically, but the program depicts what Piper lived.
Other forms of art also address these issues. They create physical spaces that show the harshness inmates are forced to endure. One artist says "The prison system survives because of free labor; that lets you know that slavery still exists", which is a large statement to make– but the research accompanying these types of artistic displays only serve to back up these claims. Prisoners have no rights, and perform sweatshop labor for almost no wages at all. Since they're viewed as criminals and not citizens, they're stripped of all humanity. Maybe you believe anyone in prison instantly deserves to have their rights taken away from them, but solitary confinement is much worse than that. You cannot comprehend how traumatic it is until you experience it yourself. VR provides you the window you need to clearly see the way in which it takes away any human element within prisoners, making them subservient, less than beings. No human, convicted criminal or not, should experience what they are forced to in solitary confinement.
Solitary Confinement
As a prisoner, you are at least granted the comfort of the presence of other people who are sharing your experience; solitary confinement rips this idea away completely. Even Abraham Maslow's "Hierarchy of Needs" acknowledges this innate human need for socialization–a driving factor for existing–and prison does offer at least some socialization to inmates. Granted, the prison environment is far from an ideal and humane one, but once prisoners are put into solitary confinement, the shred of humanity they are offered is completely taken away. Solitary confinement puts prisoners constantly alone in a bleak room the size of a horse's stable. Some seem to believe putting the "problem inmates" alone from everyone else keeps the prison order under order, but this extreme isolation destroys mental health. It causes everything from severe depression to psychosis, making prisoners more of a danger to themselves. It forces prisoners to regress to a point where integration back into a social environment, both the rest of the prison- and the outside world, becomes almost impossible. Even if you only go through a nine minute VR experience of solitary confinement, it's clear the experience changes you. It takes away the remote possibility of hope for people who are already prisoners.
Okay…So What?
Stepping into an immersive experience–like the one experienced in 6×9 or the one spoke about by Nonny de la Peña's–creates the same feeling of seclusion prisoners get in solitary confinement. VR even allows viewers to feel the hallucinations experienced in solitary confinement so we can empathize with people who are actually living the effects of solitary confinement. Just as with VR in marketing and other forms of journalism, the ideas behind this type of VR are rooted in emotion. The goal is to create a reaction so visceral, that it brings change to Washington and some element of humanity back to the prison system.


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Manchester City will be looking to tighten their grip on fourth spot when they travel to Stamford Bridge to take on mid-table Chelsea this weekend (5.30pm Saturday, Sky Sports 1).
City's 1-0 triumph over Paris Saint-Germain sent them through to the semi-finals of the Champions League for the first time on Tuesday, but Manuel Pellegrini's side (pictured) cannot afford to lose focus in the top flight if they want to guarantee their place in next season's edition of Europe's primary continental club competition.
Currently four points ahead of rivals Manchester United and five above West Ham United, wins against Chelsea on Saturday and Newcastle United on Tuesday could be enough to virtually wrap up a top-four placing depending on results elsewhere. That's a situation that would afford them the luxury of resting players ahead of their two-legged last-four tie in late April and early May. They may yet win the Champions League and therefore qualify automatically next year as holders, but City will not want to take that risk, particularly as the remaining three sides – Bayern Munich, Real Madrid and Atletico Madrid – are all extremely strong adversaries.
Best Match Betting Odds
7/4 Man City (Betfred)
7/4 Chelsea (Bet365, BetVictor, Betfair)
5/2 Draw (BetVictor)
Tenth-placed Chelsea, meanwhile, do not have anything of note left to play for. Their 1-0 defeat to Swansea City last Saturday was their first loss since interim boss Guus Hiddink replaced Jose Mourinho in the dugout in December. While Chelsea will therefore want to return to winning ways against a team they have battled with for the Premier League title in recent years, it is difficult to envisage there being the same urgency in their play as there would be if there was an attainable objective in reach.
Chelsea will definitely be without John Terry (Achilles), Loic Remy (groin) and Kurt Zouma (knee) on Saturday, although Willian, Eden Hazard, Nemanja Matic and Gary Cahill could all be involved following respective injury lay-offs of their own. Matt Miazga will be hoping to keep his place in the XI, as will fellow January Alexandre Pato, who belatedly made his debut against Aston Villa earlier this month. Thibaut Courtois could be restored to the line-up after being dropped for the 1-0 loss to Swansea last time out, with youngster Ruben Loftus-Cheek likely to retain his place in the Chelsea midfield.
Pellegrini, meanwhile, is unlikely to be able to call upon the services of Raheem Sterling (groin) and captain Vincent Kompany (calf), although both players could be included on the substitutes' bench. Samir Nasri will be hoping to start after his man-of-the-match display against West Bromwich Albion last weekend, while Yaya Toure's return to fitness could see him included alongside either Fernando, Fernandinho or Fabian Delph in the centre of midfield. Bacary Sagna and Gael Clichy will probably get the nod ahead of Pablo Zabaleta and Aleksandar Kolarov at full-back, with Kevin De Bruyne and David Silva also likely to be involved from the first whistle.
Taking everything into account, it is probably worth backing a Manchester City victory at Stamford Bridge this weekend, which can be backed at best odds of 7/4 with Betfred. The champions have nothing to play for in the remaining weeks and have begun rotating their side heavily as they prepare for the summer arrival of Antonio Conte. Man City, conversely, need the points in the race for the top four and are likely to take this match more seriously than their opponents. Pellegrini's men will move into third with a victory – at least until Arsenal take on Crystal Palace a day later – with the odds on a 2-1 triumph very favourable indeed. Fresh from his winner against PSG at the Etihad Stadium in midweek, De Bruyne looks to be the best option for first goalscorer. So this preview's betting tips are:
- Betting Tip: Man City to beat Chelsea 2-1 @ best price 10/1 with Bet365.
- Betting Tip: Kevin De Bruyne to score the first goal of the game @ best odds of 8/1 with Bet365, Skybet, BetVictor, Ladbrokes or William Hill.
Greg Lea is a freelance sports writer. Read the articles that he has written at Just Bookies.

subset: commoncrawl


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Kindle – Nook – PDF Ebook – Smashwords – Kobo – Google
here is a little story about faith, about saving one's self and about the reward that keeps sending you back to the summit.
The Rapid-Fire BabyGirl –
An entire month! That's 30 days – just a bit more than 4 weeks – 720 hours – 43,200 minutes – 2,592,000 seconds – 22 days of work and 8 days off … but no matter how a month was tabulated, it was way too long to be separated from the one you loved.
Sage stood at the screen door at the back of the kitchen, staring longingly at the skinny stone driveway that led up to the house. The middle of the driveway had grown up with grass, one of countless reasons as to why she was ready to move. And while their house was located at the quiet, rural end of Long Lane, Sage was growing ever-more anxious to plant her roots elsewhere. This chapter of her life was over. And change was desperately needed.
But some things would always remain the same. They needed to remain that way in order for her to survive.
Standing in that kitchen doorway, the main entrance to their little house, Sage was silhouetted by the overhead light behind her. But if details could've been seen, they would've shown her – wearing her diaper, her earrings … and nothing else. Blowing on her fingernails to ensure that the fresh coat of red nail polish would dry before he got home, Sage looked at the last beams of sunset over the horizon of trees in the distance, nibbling her lower lip – lost in more thoughts than she could process, just then.
Oh, yes. This chapter of life was done, indeed. But not before they wrote the last page of that chapter, perhaps making it a cliffhanger, of sorts – encouraging them to go right on to the next chapter. Looking to the sky above that horizon, she saw the brilliant reds and oranges that had painted the Heavens – fleeting as they were with the setting sun, but still illuminating their journey ahead.
She waited for him, patiently.
Sebastian was his name – her boyfriend, her Daddy, her lover and her partner in life. He had been gone for a solid month – away on a lengthy business-trip. And while she hated the idea of being separated from him for so long, Sage saw it as a necessary evil. Sebastian made good money and they were saving quite a bit to move out of their tiny house and into a nicer place to live. This month-long business trip had promise to be quite profitable for him. While Sage really didn't care about money, she also recognized that … if she wanted to move to a nicer house and if she wanted to be able to enjoy the things in life she wanted to experience, money was another necessary evil. And she had to allow him the ability to make money, whether she liked it or not.
They had talked every night of their month apart. And in their separation, they made a pact with each other to save themselves for the entire month until they saw one another again. This meant no physical pleasure of any kind – no fingering, no Hitachi wand, no stimulation, nothing. This would certainly make them both time-bombs. And Sebastian told her the first night he got back, he was gonna do so many things to her she would become a helpless nympho. By that first dawn back, she would forever be his Rapid-Fire BabyGirl – incapable of being satisfied by one orgasm as he would rewire her brain to always need more.
He wasn't just going to pound her raw, drain her and spend her. He was going to do it again and again and again until exhaustion overcame him. And by the time exhaustion got the best of him, Sage had always been ravaged to such a degree of enervation that she could barely keep her eyes open to half-mast. It was the perfect state of mind-n-body to be in when drifting off to sleep.
Nibbling her lower lip, Sage envisioned everything that this night would hold. Reaching down between her legs, she pressed in on the crinkly front of her diaper, then stopping herself as it seemed foolish to break the no stimulation rule – just a few minutes from its end. And my, oh my, she was ready. Having greased the outer lips of her labia, from her from her clit down to her perineum – Sage tingled with an intensity that was far more powerful than just a few days ago. Maybe it was because she knew that Sebastian would soon be pulling into the driveway. Or maybe it was because she had finally reached her limit on how long she could go without pleasure. Or maybe there was some other unknown catalyst behind it all. But whatever the reason was, Sage was beginning to go through the initial stages of arousal.
As always, the first thing to heighten within her wasn't a thing at all. It was emotions. And Sage was definitely a creature of affection, sometimes smothering him so much that she had to back off a little in order for him to breathe. But she couldn't help herself. What else was she to do with all the love she had for him in her heart? At moments, she worried that he didn't feel the same way about her or at least that he didn't feel as passionate about her.
Sebastian was male. And it took Sage a while, but she eventually figured out the greatest difference between the two genders: emotions. This didn't mean that he didn't care. What it meant was: he was a guy and guys didn't feel the need to smother someone in order to show how affectionate they were. They had others ways of doing it, male ways.
Sage leaned back on the door jam, pinching her legs together and chasing her thigh gap away as she thought about all the different male ways he used to reach the center of her heart, the center of her mind and the center of her body. Crossing her hands behind her, at the lower lumbar of her back, Sage did her best to abide by the no stimulation rule. Yet, if he didn't get home soon, she would seriously start considering breaking that rule – for necessity.
She had also greased her rosebud, wanting him to use every entryway into her. Maybe that was the best part about envisioning fantasies: not really knowing how they'll happen or what they'll feel like or what she'll feel like as he pins her down and has his way with her. Oh, yes. She would definitely be a nympho after this night. And it wasn't just fetish that was fueling her to obsession. It was also her need to be beautiful for him. She left her hair down on her shoulders, having allowed the natural waviness to remain after her shower. Sebastian said he loved the way her hair got wavy. She had the slightest bit of make-up on, just a touch of foundation and a soft brown shade of eye shadow to compliment her light brown hair. Mascara and eye liner completed her flirtatious look. Sebastian said eye liner always made her baby blue irises stand out. Her skin was smooth everywhere as she had undergone a strict ritual of lotioning herself all month long. Sebastian said he loved to run his hands up-n-down her smooth skin. And on this night, she hoped that his hands would touch every inch of her frame, from her scalp down to the soles of her feet.
It was now almost dark outside and Sebastian would be pulling up in his car any minute now. But Sage was really getting tired of reminding herself of that. All day long, he had been texting her pictures of his erection, telling her he had been stiff since he woke up. And all day long, he had been texting her and asking her if she was being a good girl and keeping her hands out of her diaper.
All month long, she had been sending him naked pictures of herself, tempting him to break the rule but also giving him a remind of the BabyGirl he had waiting for him back home – a BabyGirl who had obediently kept her manners and her modesty in his absence. But the moment he got back, she was going throw all modesty to the wind.
As if the fates had been counting the beats of her heart and knew that the moment was right, a set of headlights appeared down at the far end of Long Lane. Sage opened the screen door of the kitchen and stepped her bare feet out onto the small concrete steps at the back of the house – still wearing nothing but her diaper and her earrings. As the headlights drew nearer and nearer to the house, her tingle inside swelled … and so did she. Her fuss picked up right away as her arousal began to steadily climb now. She could feel herself getting wet and adding her own juices to the Vaseline between her legs. She was bathed, made-up, shaven, cleaned, wet, swollen, horny and naked but her diaper-n-earrings. And she could do nothing else to prepare for his homecoming.
Sebastian turned into their driveway and drove the car up as close to the back door of the kitchen as possible. He turned the car off as he got out of it, barely getting the car in park before he walked up to her briskly. Sage's heart began to beat heavily, seeing the haste he was using to get over to her. It made her feel wonderful to know he missed her so much that he could hardly get the car turned off before making his way over to her. It was one of those male ways he showed her, of how much he loved her. No, it wasn't a physical smothering, but instead an emotional one.
Stretching her arms out to him with the most eager set of gimme, gimme hands she had ever made, Sage wrapped herself around him – her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. She grinded her diapered mound into his abdomen and planted her mouth on his face. Her tongue parted his lips open and began an uncharacteristically aggressive journey into his mouth. But his tongue battled back as he put his left forearm under her diapered haunches and pinned his right forearm up the center of her spine. Gripping the back of her hair with his clenching right hand, he began to work his kiss down the side of her neck.
"I missed you, Daddy," Sage whispered with a breathy-n-fussy tone. "And I saved myself for you. I saved all of me for you."
And as she kept whimpering her devotions to him, Sebastian spun around and laid her down on the hood of the car – obviously made warm from the engine beneath it.
"I wanted to play with myself so badly. I wanted to cum in my pamper for you, but I didn't," she fussed with a poutiness that was indicative of the sacrifices she had made – Sebastian unfastening his belt and lowering his zipper. "I was a good girl for you, Daddy. I was a good girl."
"Shh, shh, shh," Sebastian shushed her, pulling her down to the end of the car hood and unfastening the lower diaper tapes only at each of her hips. "Yes, you were a good girl, Baby. And you know what Daddy said would happen tonight, don't you?"
Sage nodded as he slid his right hand inside the front of her diaper, traveling in from under the left leg opening. Closing her eyes, she placed her hands up alongside her shoulders, her fingers curling up into soft fists and her head leaning to the side as she felt his fingertips running up and down her mound. Oh, what a Heavenly sensation and one she hoped would never end. But she knew what he was doing. He wasn't just petting her gently between her legs. He was also looking for stubble. Smiling brightly, she awaited the praise that was due to her.
"You are sooo smooth, Sage – just like a BabyGirl should be," Sebastian whispered lovingly, repositioning himself – Sage bending her legs and drawing her knees up in preparation. "And Daddy is very, very proud of you."
Sage opened her eyes and looked up at the moon in the sky as she felt his fingers beginning to trace through the Vaseline and wetness. Then she felt him pulling the diaper between her legs to the side, the stiffened tip of his erection touching the swollen opening of her canal. Parting her thighs as widely as she could, Sage relaxed her frame. He was going to end that no stimulation rule right there, on the hood of his car.
Sage gasped as he pushed his tip into her canal, the spread being so overwhelming that it felt like she was a virgin again. And as his length slowly slid inside, her wetness making an easy glide for him, Sage grabbed his left wrist and quickly pulled his left hand over her mouth to muffle the moaning she made. She had been holding back that need to make noise, suppressing it for weeks as much as she had bottled-up the need to be driven into. This was perhaps the most pressing need of all and the one she had been looking forward to almost as much as the forthcoming orgasms.
Oh, what glorious length he had and oh, how thick he was. No, he wasn't the biggest guy in the world, but he didn't have to be in order to arouse her, make her swell and make her wet. And he was so rock-hard that she instantly submitted, for fear of many things but moreover, for desire of being made to obey. Whereas her heart, mind and emotions often weren't in synch with one another at times, when Sebastian pinned her down and made quick work of her swollen tissues, she was always in balance.
Their pelvic bones connected with a thud and Sage whimpered, feeling his tip having met her back wall. And there he held her, penetrated fully – his stiffness throbbing just as much as her want. Tears welled in her eyes, a cry she had been aching to have for a month. Her canal was being stretched wide open with his girth and his aggression shown through in his gaze. But she knew he would remain gentle … for the first round, at least.
"You're so wet," Sebastian whispered, his erection pulsing with want for motion. "And you're so tight, baby."
And then he slid out of her with an excruciatingly slow pace, Sage whimpering at the relief but also at want for lust. She shuddered beneath him, feeling herself getting wetter. His return penetration was quicker than the first, the result of her slickness. But no matter how good it felt and no matter how much he wanted to pound into her, Sebastian remained slow and steady with his thrusts, allowing every little sensitive spot within her to awaken.
Sage pulled his hand away from her mouth, gasping for air as her legs began to twitch. Lifting her feet up and wrapping her legs around the middle of his back, she pulled his torso down against her – his stiffness keeping gentle, steady pace.
"I would've … waited … three months for you," Sage panted, the gentleness of thrusts sending little pings of electricity across the surface of her skin.
Her mind and her body were being inundated with a flurry of sensations and emotions that she became overwhelmed in a yet a different way – that of affection. And her hands! Her stupid hands! She never knew what she should do with them. Should she grab his face and kiss him? Should she hug him? Should she drag her finger nails down his back? Sometimes, she wished she could cut her arms off to get them out of the way.
But hand placement became a secondary concern when Sage felt her core tighten. Oh my Blue Heaven, yes. At long last. Her muscles tightened and she didn't even try to control herself, leaning her head back and whimper up to the stars. She felt the first ripple of pleasure travel up her canal and pour out of her center, washing over her frame as tears streamed down her face. And then the second ripple came, much stronger than the first. And then the third ripple came – so intense that her whole body seized up. Her canal tightened even more so around his girth-n-length, making each penetration-n-withdraw that much more pleasurable for him as she came.
Arching her back and heaving her breasts up at him, she held the orgasm as long as she could – then lying there for the next few minutes as Sebastian kept thrusting himself into her. But there would be no afterglow on this night … at least not until the end. And from the look in Sebastian's eyes, the end was nowhere in sight yet. Placing one forearm under her bottom and the other behind her back, he picked her up off the hood of the car and carried her inside the house – his erection still planted inside her core.
Sage and Sebastian were madly in love with one another – young, intense, passionate and as horny as could be. They were a match that seemed perfect, quality-for-quality and flaw-for-flaw. Sometimes, Sage had trouble believing that she had actually found her soul mate in life. Nothing was supposed to happen that easily, but somehow it had. Whether in denial or in belief, she wasn't going to miss out on a single second of their life together. It didn't take a fool to recognize a blessing. And only a fool would've squandered it.
Sebastian kicked the back door shut with his foot and lied her down on the kitchen table. And that was when the rapid-fire truly began.
The very moment Sage relaxed her frame on the table, she suddenly sat straight up as Sebastian pulled his stiffness out of her canal and then plunged it back inside her with a force that made clear how gentleness was done for the night. She hadn't even ballooned all the way down from her first orgasm and there was no desire in his eyes to allow her down from that summit. Flustered, affectionate and emotionally charged with that deep sense of love a girl was often consumed by when after an orgasm, Sage panted for air – her frame being rocked back-n-forth. His aggression had increased and with it, her wetness. The softness of her swell, still a little sore from the first time, gave way to his rock-hard penetrations as her second climb would be a little less about emotional connections and more about getting some.
Sebastian became more aggressive, pinning her inner thighs back with his forearms as he grabbed at her hips and pulled her towards him – his hips rocking forward. His girth had thickened and it seemed as though his length was finding greater depths inside her. Bending her elbows and resting her hands along either side of her head, she panted in rhythm with his heavy breathing. The legs of the kitchen table screeched across the floor as his thrusts not only moved her but also moved the table. His voice grunted as he gnashed his teeth, giving her a greater sense of submission as he man-handled her with no resistance on her part. Her diaper crinkled, filling her with that sensation of doing something naughty but also innocent-in-nature.
Her pulse raced. Her heart pounded and tears welled in her eyes. She was not only being overwhelmed with his girth-n-length but also with the intensity that made their relationship dynamic. Oh, she loved it when he was rough with her. Yes, the gentleness was welcomed too, but there were times when all she really craved was to be held down and reminded of why being female was worth it – given all the feelings of insecurity, attention to personal care, irritability, battles to be taken seriously, and everything else that a girl dealt with. All of that didn't matter as lied there on that kitchen table, wearing nothing but her diaper and her earrings as her Daddy pounded himself inside her, making her drip with own juices, and making her climb just a bit higher on that same summit.
And with sudden motion, Sage's lower back arched as she gasped for air and moaned at the first ripple of pleasure pouring out of her core. Throwing her arms straight out at her sides, she dug her nails into the wood edges of the table. A steady stream of pleasure poured out of her, each ripple building from the previous and arriving so quickly that they all felt like one. And as the muscles in her body began to tighten, she looked up to Sebastian … for guidance, for support and for passion.
Sage didn't just long for his control. She had an ever-burning need to not only be possessed by him, but also a need to feel like his greatest possession. Her feet rose up and she wrapped her legs around him, just like a minute ago on the hood of his car. Sebastian seized her attention, his gaze molding her into who-n-what he wanted her to be. He gave her purpose and passion … and a reason to get through the pain.
He thickened once more and she shuddered a new layer of wetness. Her core tightened and her canal clenched around his stiffness as tears streamed down her face and her second orgasm of the night arrived. Sebastian kept pounding his heavy thrusts into her, but from the burning lust in his eyes, she could see that he wasn't going to cum yet. And this meant that there would more he would take from her – after she succumbed to him for a second time and showed her weakness.
Sage stared up at the overhead light above and froze in paralysis as she came for him, her hips eventually finding their own motion – separate from her thoughts as her center rocked in synch with him. This second orgasm was twice as strong as the first, her resistance having been dwindled and a small bit of exhaustion having set in.
Without allowing her to balloon down from the summit at all this time, Sebastian turned her over on the table. Grabbing the back of her hamstrings, he yanked her back towards him – just enough for her legs to dangled down and the very tips of her toes to be able to touch the floor. He forced her upper torso down onto the table top, smashing her breasts into the porcelain center and pinning her arms behind her at her lower back. Crossing her wrists and holding them with his left hand, he reached down between her legs and yanked her diaper to the side yet again. She was a throbbing, swollen and dripping wet mess, but she couldn't have looked more beautiful to him, just then. And if she could've seen the lust in his eyes at that moment, she would've known that what she believed to be the peak of her summits was merely a small plateau for the height he was going to make her climb.
Placing the tip of his erection at the opening in the middle of her outer labia and pressing his right palm between her shoulder blades, he leaned forward and drove his length inside her canal. Sage turned her face to the side, feeling the coolness of the porcelain on her cheek as she whimpered at being penetrated yet again. Her mind was scrambled with the need to balloon down from ecstasy and the new influx of sensations that would force her further upward. But in her flustered condition, she smiled at a very simple and pleasing thought:
He wanted her for a third time and for as many times as he decided.
She felt her upper body being pressed down into the table and the front of her thighs being slammed into the edge of the table, each thrust pushing her a bit further – back up onto the table until her toes could no longer touch the floor. Sebastian often flipped her over and began a doggy-style approach when he was nearing his own orgasm and getting ready to cum. The mere thought of this made her drip even more – the inside of her diaper absorbing her wetness.
Closing her eyes, she focused in on the feeling of his bulging underside vein as he glided along the top of her opening and the roof of her canal. Every conceivable sensitive spot on both of them was being rubbed against one another. The ache of her inner thigh muscles reached a new height of pain but also of relief. Sage was used to this, however. And her inner thighs always hurt after sex. He was a lot bigger than her and she could only take her legs being hammered back-n-apart for so long before bruising began. But oh, to be driven into, to be pushed to her limits and then to be pushed beyond them was better than anything she had ever known. It wasn't just an amazing bit of sexual pleasure. It was a reminder from him that he knew she was capable of so much more than she had ever given herself credit for.
Her whole body rocked back-n-forth on the table and her legs bounced with each of his thrusts. If she hadn't been so forcefully pinned down on that table, her hips would've risen up and her back would've arched. She had been pounded raw already and Sebastian showed no signs of stopping.
She could feel his pulse, the very beating of his heart as he grunted out his own exhaustion. Weakened, limp and spent, Sage lied there on that kitchen table, feeling her softness being parted open, again and again. Oh, he was as hard as a rock and it seemed his stamina would never let up. Sage, on the other hand, helplessly readied herself for another barrage of twitches-n-spasms as it seemed her gasps of air had suddenly become fuel for her arousal. His abdomen pounded against her diapered bottom, his erection gliding along her swollen trail and easing his entrance with her juices.
And then she came again, spasming-n-twitching as she believed she would, but remaining pinned to the table with such force that her usual bodily archings couldn't happen. They were always distractions anyway – the little things she did to displace the forthcoming pleasure right away before it overwhelmed her. Her whimpers gave way to guttural moaning, her sweetness tightening involuntarily around his shaft before she climbed even higher to the summit. His thickness seemed so immense and she could tell that he was fighting his own orgasm, preventing his seeds from erupting inside her. As he pulled himself out of her, then walking over to the refrigerator to get out a beer, she knew he still wasn't done with her.
Lying on her belly on that kitchen table, she watched him open the beer and lean back against the kitchen counter – her impulses making her rock herself back-n-forth, grinding her diapered mound into the porcelain top. At last, she had a moment to catch her breath. But, watching him down the beer, it suddenly dawned on her how she didn't want to catch her breath. Sebastian was right. There weren't such things as enough and too much – not when they had spent such a long time apart from each other.
She remembered what their visits with each other were like before they lived together. It was always about finding as much passion as the time allotted would allow.
Lying on that table, crinkling her hips and rubbing out her afterglow, she felt the way she used to feel when she first met him and when everything was still new. Her descent from the summit began as the feelings of pleasure, of satisfaction and of affection washed out over her entire frame – from the top of her head, down to her fingers and toes. Every little sensor inside her had been awakened from the month's hiatus, making the fresh memories something she swooned in. And he had already done to her what he said he would. She craved more – like a nympho, like a rapid-fire BabyGirl.
Sebastian finished the beer and set the bottle in the sink before he walked back over to her, turned her over and scooped her up into his arms. Resting up against his chest as he carried her upstairs, she knew that when he took her to bed, there would be more on the way before sleep began. And it was that knowledge of knowing what was to come but not really knowing much about it that fueled her passion to a fevered pitch.
"Right here. Right now," Sebastian said with breathiness as he planted her back on the upstairs hallway wall.
Sage nodded, her little heart pounding once more. He felt the same way, with the same affection. This was one of many small ways he was letting it be known how much he had missed her too in this past month. Unzipping his pants again, he then gripped her diapered bottom as he pulled the diaper between her legs to the side. Pressing the tip of his erection to the opening at her center, he then plunged himself inside her again.
Sage closed her eyes and gasped for air, lifting her legs up and wrapping them around him – crossing her ankles at his lower lumbar. She whimpered softly and then smiled brightly as she felt the craving being met, that obsession to have his rock-hard stiffness all the way inside her – as far as it could go. Her body slid up-n-down the wall with his thrusts, her breasts bouncing with the motion. And her hands! Her stupid hands! What was she supposed to do with them? She could never figure that out.
Grabbing the sides of his face, she kissed him – parting his lips open with her eager tongue as she rode her diapered hips up-n-down the wall, pouncing her mount on him as she wrapped her arms around him. Looking to the ceiling she moaned with a growl as she felt her arousal building once again. For as overwhelming of an experience as it was to be parted open, she found herself quickly pouncing back down onto him after she glided up. There probably wasn't any little mannerism of modesty or of lady-like nature left within her demeanor. And quite frankly, she could've cared less about being cute or sweet, just then … at least not until she spasmed for a fourth time. She was a rapid-fire BabyGirl at this point. He had broken her and she couldn't have been happier to have fallen to pieces for him.
Sage screamed once, then closing her mouth as she felt the muscles in her core tighten, her canal contracting around his stiffness and reminding her of how thick he was. And as the first ripple of pleasure worked its way out of her canal, she rested the side of her face on his sternum. Her hands reached up to his shoulder blades and her finger nails dug into his flesh as she dragged them down his back – leaving ten long, red scratches. Sebastian began to thrust into her harder in response – only sending Sage that much higher up into euphoria. And as she came for him, she got a pout to her personality, a wrinkle on her brow and a fussiness in her breathing before she planted her upper torso back against the wall – suddenly paralyzed as she squirted helplessly into the front of her diaper. Sebastian held her there and maintained a steady delivery of penetrations until she collapsed against him … spent for a fourth time.
"Shh. Shh. Shhh," Sebastian softly shushed her as he carried her into their bedroom, her body twitching with small spasms – his stiffness still inside her.
Easing her down onto her back on the bed, he pulled his hips back, sliding himself out of her, Sage whimpering with fuss, but also with relief. She was quite sore at that point, quite raw and completely drained. But from the gazes in his irises, she knew he still wasn't done with her yet. And it was that glimmer in his eyes that fueled her onward as he turned her over onto her belly, parted her legs, unfastened the tapes at her hips and lowered the back of her diaper down off her bottom. Relaxing her frame as much as she could, Sage rested the side of her face on the comforter beneath her and positioned her arms straight up from her head. Sebastian took hold of both of her bottom cheeks and yanked them apart, then placing the tip of his erection at her rosebud and grabbing at her hips.
Sage arched her lower back and lifted her center, submissively offering a pathway for him. And without another moment of hesitation, Sebastian drove his stiffness into her bottom. Sage softly whimpered at the stretch as her rosebud opened to his girth and she froze in position as his length slid into her backside. It was a far tighter fit than even when her canal clenched around him and she could feel his pulse inside her, throbbing his ache as he had yet to cum even once.
Just as slowly, he pulled himself out of her backside and then drove right back in as he worked up a rhythm that would both prevent her from feeling something too painful to sustain and enable him to feel every benefit of the incredible tightness. But still, she ached.
"Daddy, it hurts," Sage whispered softly, a fuss having overtaken her tone.
"Shh. Shh. Shhh," Sebastian shushed, her mind melting to mush and her body tingling with an even greater sense of submission-n-want.
In her heart, there was no greater gift of compliance than to offer herself to him in a manner that was less-than-pleasing. But she always kept in mind that there were two people who sought pleasure and it was she who could provide that pleasure for both of them. And that was a sense of purpose far more important than anything else.
Sebastian lied on top of her body, his chest pressing against her shoulder blades, his arms reaching up and on top of her arms to hold them down. Sage settled, as much as she could, into the short choppy breaths she made while Sebastian worked his thrusts into a rhythm that rocked their bodies forward-n-back on the mattress. She softly whimpered, when able, at the overwhelming feel of being stretched open and then filled. Her clench around his penetrating shaft was constantly tight, making her incapable of relaxing. But his breathy grunts filled her with a kind of pleasure that was different than the physical. It was one of knowing that, even without her voluntary offering, she was giving him something that felt really good.
Several minutes went by and Sebastian hadn't stopped once to regain his energy, but within that time, his pounding had worn her down. And the moment her sphincter muscles finally gave way of their resistance, Sage felt the first little bit of pleasure as his glidings in-n-out of her became easier. But her pleasure wasn't where he found his. Instead, the rocking of their bodies had forced her mound to press down into the diaper that lied untaped but still beneath her. At first, the pain at her rosebud had distracted her from feeling the renewing swell and arousal between her legs. But now beyond that pain, her soft whimpers of agony had becomes that of a melting pleasure.
And as her arousal heightened, her hips rose up off the diaper-n-mattress to greet the next thrusting entrance of his girth and to welcome his length into her backside. As their frames continued in motion together, Sebastian shuddered. His girth thickened inside her as he slowed his thrusts. Sage's heart began pounding just a bit faster as she tried forcing her hips backwards to keep the motion going. He was nearing his orgasm and she wanted to climb with him. But as his body seized up, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly – his shaft coming to a stop inside her as he grunted again.
And then he erupted.
His seeds shot out of his tip and filled her backside quickly, Sage rocking as much as his grasp of her allowed. She became reduced to lying still beneath him as he emptied his seeds inside her and then gently knelt up – pulling himself out of her, Sage's poor little rosebud tightening to a pucker as Sebastian got off the bed and walked into the bathroom.
Seconds later, she heard the shower turn on and the curtain being pulled back as he stepped into the tub. Her body was still clenched in places and she remained as still as she could, reaching back only to return the back of her diaper up into place on her bottom as she had no idea how her sphincter would react to the treatment she had just received. Coming to rest on the mattress, she allowed her body to go limp as she closed her eyes – this now being her first full and complete moment of recovery since he had gotten home.
Lying there, she felt the soreness at her rosebud as her sphincter muscles tightened and released erratically. The swell between her legs, so tender to the mere touch of her lay on the diaper, flooded her mind with even more fresh memories. Smiling contentedly that her Daddy was now home, she sighed softly. All was well in her world once again and oh, what a glorious rapid-fire return it had been.
In a few moments, she drifted off to sleep, happier than she could ever remember before. And what a restful bit of sleep it was, the sound of running water in the background being a constant reminder that Sebastian had returned.
A few minutes later, she was suddenly startled awake at the chilling touch of a cool, wet washcloth. Sebastian had lowered the back of her diaper and was cleaning the cheeks of her bottom. As he turned her over and slid her drenched diaper to the side, he took the cool washcloth between her legs. She startled fully awake, swooning in the feel of the coldness but also with an affection she could hardly put into words.
Parting her thighs to allow him to clean her front more fully and gently shifting on the mattress, she gazed up at her Daddy, her lover boy – standing there in the buff and fresh from the shower. Oh, he was handsome and even his silhouette, absent of most details, was sexy. He often remarked how the sight of her and the scent of her and the thought of her did things to his minds and senses that no other girl in this world could do to him. As she lied there, she realized that the feeling was quite mutual.
Sebastian set the washcloth to the side and then leaned over, his head traveling down between her legs and the tip of his tongue touching her perineum. Slowly, he drew his tongue up the length of the outer lips of her labia, Sage gasping and whimpering at the tenderness of the touch. She was raw, very raw. And she felt like she had pounded into by a train. But as his tongue traveled all the way up to her clit, her back arched and her chest heaved as her body rocked with the motion.
Then he placed his hands on either side of her body, climbing up on top of her. A new gaze of lust shown in his irises. Sage's heart began to beat heavily, her breathing becoming choppy and erratic with a new fussiness as she realized that he wasn't done with his rapid-fire BabyGirl just yet. But before she could fuss any further, she felt the tip of his erection press against the opening at the center of her labia and then slide into her. She gasped deeply as she closed her eyes and bent her elbows, placing her hands on either side of her head. But before she could exhale to whimper, Sebastian slipped the waiting rubber nipple of her pacifier between her pink, pouty lips.
Immediately, she began nursing on it, but she still whimpered as she felt his girth parting her canal open once more and his length sliding into her – all the way back to her cervix. Placing his forearms on top of hers and interlocking fingers with her, Sebastian slid into her until their pelvic bones met. Then he balanced his weight on her center and began to slide back out of her, drawing new wetness from within her and using it to glide right back into her.
Sage became delirious with sensations of new-building arousal and the return of her swollen, aching, raw condition. Her body bounced on the bed as he pounded in-n-out of her with impassioned force and drive. Incapable of resisting him at all and being pinned to the mattress otherwise, Sage began to rock her hips – opening her eyes and gazing up at her Daddy. Oh, she loved the smell of him, right out of the shower. Maybe it was the scent of the soap he used or maybe that of the shampoo. And the beauty of it was: if she didn't like the scent of the soap or shampoo, she would simply buy a different brand next time. Sebastian didn't make those decisions. He honestly didn't care. And this gave her free-reign to scent him as she so pleased.
But scent wasn't the predominant sense of the moment. It was all about touch and as she kept trying to rock her hips as he pounded into her so hard that she bounced on the mattress, she pushed herself through the pain of soreness to find one last bit of pleasure. From his focus and his groans, she could tell that this wouldn't take long. Focusing herself on building her arousal one more time, she tightened her canal around him, squeezing as hard as she could for as long as she could while he continued to part her like the Mighty Red Sea.
His girth thickened, almost giving her a heart attack and his length seemed to strength to an even greater hardness – both reactions making her shudder and giving him another new layer of wetness to use when sliding into her. Heat rose up off her frame as her arousal built and her swell formed around his shaft. There would be a wet spot on the mattress beneath her for sure, when this was all over … if not already.
His legs became rigid as his thrusts became more focused on grazing his bulging underside vein. She could feel the tension in his arms, his gripping fingers. Whimpering into a soft moan behind her pacifier she succumbed to the tightness forming at her core, the beginning of her sixth orgasm. As the first ripple of pleasure worked its way up her canal and then washed out across her frame, Sage's forehead wrinkled with an adorable fleeting attempt to fuss. She was a BabyGirl. It just seemed natural to do so.
But the second ripple quickly poured out of her, overlapping the first one and then third and then the fourth as the muscles in her body began to tighten in preparation for seizing up. At that moment, when the highest peak of the summit was about to be realized, Sebastian rose up on his knees – yanking her up into his arms and into a mounting position as his seeds erupted into her womb with thick undulations of stinging heat.
Sage leaned her head back and spit the pacifier out as she clenched his shaft with her canal, holding him tightly until he was drained of every seed he had left. She lifted her chin to the ceiling as he lowered his forehead to her sternum, both ballooning down … together again. And there they remained for a short while, making the perfect silhouette behind the veil curtains of their bedroom windows.
She loved feeling his seeds inside her. It was the greatest passion imaginable. No, she wasn't his cum dumpster nor his baby-maker nor his slut nor his slave nor anything else of that nature. She was simply the girl he had fallen in love with and the girl who would hold his essence within – each and every time his lust raged for her.
Sebastian placed both of his forearms up the center of her spine, easing her backwards and down onto the mattress. She clenched her canal tighter still as he withdrew his shaft. And, settling onto the bed, reached down to tease her clit through an afterglow that had been an entire month in the making.
He opened the top drawer of their dresser and took out one of those Dry 24/7 diapers that were so thick she could barely walk in them. But they were perfect for her to wear to bed. Sitting on the side of the bed, he placed her diaper, the bottle of baby powder and the container of wipes to the side as he waited patiently. Given how horny she got on a daily basis, it seemed an impossible task for her to have gone an entire month without any kind of orgasm. But she had done just that. And it was the greatest display of faithfulness she could've shown him. The best news of all, however, was yet to come.
"Daddy?" Sage whispered with a pant as she finished playing with herself.
"Yes, Baby?" Sebastian asked back, taking a wipe to her sticky fingers.
"I would've waited for you for four months," Sage whispered, bending her legs and drawing her knees up to her chest.
"Luckily, you'll never have to," Sebastian said with a twinkle in his eyes as he took a few more wipes out of the container.
Sage's eyes locked on him with harbored excitement as he took a wipe to her bottom. What was he about to tell her?
"As it turns out," Sebastian said, parting her thighs and taking another wipe to her front from hip-to-hip, then yet another wipe down between her legs. "The business trip was a larger success than the company believed it would be. And I will be compensated for the overage of success."
Sage found where her pacifier had landed on the bed, grabbing it and quickly stuffing it in her mouth before she could start interrupting him with an endless stream of questions that he would certainly answer anyway with what he was telling her – should she be able to keep quiet.
"What this means is:" Sebastian continued, unfolding her diaper and sliding it underneath her bottom as he picked up the bottle of baby powder and coated her backside liberally with it. "In two weeks, when next I get paid, we will finally have enough money to move out of this tiny, little house."
Tears came to her eyes. She didn't even know what to mumbled, she was so happy. Lying there as he powdered her front and then between her legs, she never thought the day would come when they would finally have enough money to move. Oh, she had wanted to move for so long. But only a foolish soul would move without the money to at least make it a comfortable relocation.
"So … in the morning," Sebastian said, folding the front of her diaper up and into place – fastening the tapes tightly at her hips. "We can call the realtor and make an offer on the house you want in town … that house on the corner of Bowden Street."
Sebastian gathered up the wipes and her wet diaper, throwing them away in the waste can in the bathroom before slipping into a pair of sleeping pants and joining her in bed. He lied down on his back and Sage turned over onto her belly, crawling her waddly bottom over to him and curling up against the side of his torso.
She was still too overjoyed for words, rapidly nursing on her pacifier as her mind blitzed into mush and back. All of this happy news came from the fact that she had accepted that he had to go on that horrible month-long business trip. No, money wasn't important to her. And because of this, money had to be even more so important to him. And my, oh my, had he provided.
"Daddy?" Sage whispered faintly behind her pacifier.
"Yes, Baby?" Sebastian asked back.
"I would've waited for you for six months," Sage said with a devilish grin.
"But not seven months, right?" Sebastian asked, returning the devilish grin.
"No, not seven," Sage said with sassiness. "Seven would've been stupid."
Continue on to The ABDL Nympho Book 2
Kindle – Nook – PDF Ebook – Smashwords – Kobo – Google
………………….. The ABDL Twisted Books
Nym 1 Nym 2 Nym 3 Dead Dead 2 Horror
Pet Play Voice Twist 3some Stolen


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|Biosequences .. Software .. Molbio soft .. Network News .. FTP
In article <311fps$4gk at nrcnet0.nrc.ca>, nash at nrcbsa.bio.nrc.ca (John Nash) wrote: > I agree with Don. Every six months somebody decides that they don't > like the number of posts on METHODS, and every six months, we say > "DON'T SPLIT OUR NEWSGROUP!!!!!!!!". > [...] agreed! let's not split! Helge -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Helge WEISSIG e-mail: helgew at ljcrf.edu La Jolla Cancer Research Foundation phone: (619) 455 6480 x253 10901 N. Torrey Pines Rd. FAX: (619) 455 0181 La Jolla, CA 92037 U.S.A. God invented surfing, so that the really talented people would not rule the world. - unknown


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Are all foods contaminated by the herbicide glyphosate? The weed-killer glyphosate, which is in Roundup, keeps turning up in foods - basically in every food studied. Glyphosate is the most widely used herbicide in the world, and its use keeps increasing - which means we are increasingly exposed to more glyphosate residues in foods. What does this mean for our health? Along with other health effects (e.g. endocrine disruption, reproductive effects, alters the gut microbiome), there is increasing evidence that glyphosate herbicides are carcinogenic (cancer causing) - especially linked to non-Hodgkin lymphoma.
Studies detect glyphosate in most adults in the US, including pregnant women. Since glyphosate herbicides are so widely and heavily used by farmers (greater than 88.6 pounds per square mile in the US midwest!!, according to the USGS), then it is difficult to avoid glyphosate residue in foods. The US government is not helping the situation - they have been refusing to test for glyphosate in foods for years, and they have twice raised the allowable glyphosate residue levels in foods when asked to do so by Monsanto (the manufacturer of Roundup). The only way to avoid glyphosate is to eat organic foods - it is not allowed in organic food production.
A recent Canadian government study looked at whether glyphosate was found in 200 honey samples from western Canada. Glyphosate was detected in 197 of the 200 samples! Even though beekeepers do not use glyphosate in beekeeping, the bees were picking it up in their search for nectar and bringing it back to the hives. Which means whenever one eats the honey, that person is also getting some glyphosate residues. A little here, a little there... we're getting some everywhere...
Excerpts from an article by journalist Carey Gillam for Environmental Health News:
Weed killer residues found in 98 percent of Canadian honey samples
Study is the latest evidence that glyphosate herbicides are so pervasive that residues can be found in foods not produced by farmers using glyphosate. As U.S. regulators continue to dance around the issue of testing foods for residues of glyphosate weed killers, government scientists in Canada have found the pesticide in 197 of 200 samples of honey they examined.
The authors of the study, all of whom work for Agri-Food Laboratories at the Alberta Ministry of Agriculture and Forestry, said the prevalence of glyphosate residues in honey samples - 98.5 percent - was higher than what was reported in several similar studies done over the last five years in other countries. ...continue reading "Pesticide Residues In Honey"


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I love to write. Almost as much as I love to read.
As much as we're told growing up not to play with our words, I can't help it. Words are such a delightfully malleable plaything, to stick to the factory settings of language would be such a waste. Like Lego.
So, writing is fun. And I love it. From wanting to write books, or journalism relating to whatever hobby I was obsessed with at the time, for years my mind was focussing on words, words, words. Puns, drama, novels, poetry, the lyrics to every Iron Maiden album.
And given that we tend to communicate a fair bit with words, this sort of pursuit is a much more useful interest than the slightly nerdy-gloss I'm coating it with might first suggest. When I was teaching, the more ways I could express myself made explaining certain complex ideas easier/possible. Just by trying to write an article explaining, say, metric modulation, I'd have to explain the concept to myself in my head before I could articulate it onto the page. Sometimes I'd discover a whole new way of explaining or viewing theory this way.
As such, I enjoyed writing blog posts, generally the longer the better. Although I was in danger, at times, of churning out theses the length of 'Dune' (appendices each the length of the sequels), the act of writing was thoroughly enjoyable and probably pretty therapeutic for me over the years. The mind can be a lonely place to inhabit at times, sometimes it's nice to let others in to see it. The pieces might have been fairly abstract, or controversial, maybe starkly emotionally naked or just a tad whimsical. And, remarkably, every so often someone would read them (wait, that's not the remarkable bit) and be interested in what I thought (there it is). You put these words together, after playing with them in your head – this imaginary Lego – and wait. Sometimes communication happens after, some laughter or arguments or bonding or flirting or confusion or righteous befuddlement. All from some words I played with in my head then shared with the world for no real reason other than I wrote them.
It's struck me that my long-form writing has pretty much stopped. That's made me rather sad. I suppose I didn't really notice it ending as I've been a constant jabberer on the twitter for years, so short-form writing (read: puns) has been an almost-daily exercise for me (so many puns). And writing -140 characters does provide a whole new set of editorial challenges (I make no apologies for finding this sort of thing interesting). The communication and sharing seems to work much faster, plus the sheer rate of output lowers the critical expectation so barriers to posting are reduced greatly, if that's the sort of thing that keeps you up at night.
But my impetus to write, to a satisfyingly worthy length, has been diminished by the lack of doing. I'm not thinking of things as potential topics any more. Which is a shame. I'm now curious about what else in my life has slunk away whilst I was busy forgetting it existed. In fact, this blog post came about when I realised I'd stopped writing blogs, and tried to figure out why ON EARTH this could have happened. This should not be the fate of a man who owns more than one Moleskin notebook and several pens.
The only explanation I find satisfying is that I merged my professional website with my blog, and now most things I wanted to write on seemed stupefyingly off-topic for a musician. That's a shame. Once thinking of things to write about became 'work', sticking to something easy and creatively-constrained like the twitter probably became the more enticing prospect. My attempts at songwriting have probably been reduced now that my working day is spent playing music written exclusively by others. My reading/writing seesaw is imbalanced.
So whilst trying to figure it out, I decided to write this post to see if it'd help. And I think it has. I mean, this doesn't solve any problems and might not even win any blogging awards (it's all politics, I'm at peace with that), but I've enjoyed mucking around with the mental Lego in the small hours. It's nice to create.


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One Tagalog word for which no exact translation in English exists is "kuryente." It literally means "electric current," but the word can be applied to the practice of spreading sensational but faked news in order to produce a media jolt. One newspaper translates "kuryente" as "a bum steer"; others have rendered it as "actually but not really" or "confirmed but not definite." At any rate, the phrase applies perfectly to the storm of bogus rumors swirling around the Trayvon Martin media feeding frenzy. The Daily Mail reports:
Fake Will Smith tweet about Trayvon Martin sweeps the internet — and Spike Lee retweets wrong address for George Zimmerman. … Man tweeting as Will Smith tweeted angry post about no justice for Trayvon — Spike Lee retweeted incorrect Florida address for Trayvon's killer, George Zimmerman — Man posing as Will Ferrell also tweeted about high-profile case.
Americans are no stranger to the phrase "fake but accurate." But kuryente takes things to another level where the lie becomes the truth; or worse, to where nobody can tell the difference.
The couple who actually live at the address which Spike Lee wrongly believed to belong to George M. Zimmerman now fear for their lives. The address was actually associated with the electoral roll of a different Zimmerman — George A. Zimmerman — though of course such fine distinctions are lost in the wash. As for the "Will Smith" tweets, the author of his missives is actually a "white man from Nashville, Tennessee." Nor is Will Ferrell the Will Ferrell — his spokesman says his tweet was a hoax.
Not that it will make any difference. The main thing about faked news is that it shouldn't matter whether it is in the slightest degree true. It is far more important for the news to confirm what we want to hear: our deepest suspicions about our neighbor or our wildest vanities about ourselves. People will believe it because they want to. As for the truth, well what about it?
Even the most basic facts becomes surprisingly irrelevant. Media Matters, for example, apologized to Matt Drudge after accusing him of being a "racist demagogue" for running a fake photo of the victim — only to discover it was actually a real photo. You would have thought Media Matters would know true from fake to play the fact-check game, but really, why would factuality be important?
Winston Churchill once observed that "a lie gets halfway around the world before the truth has a chance to get its pants on." The immense power of kuryente consists in that it operates in the world of myth. It does not belong in the universe of fact. Hence what happened when, who liked what, what reasons there were for which: these are irrelevant.
Kuryente addresses what some might call a "deeper truth," and it is therefore proof from falsification. You cannot falsify the re-telling of a myth. Take The Protocols of the Elders of Zion for example:
The Protocols purports to document the minutes of a late 19th century meeting of Jewish leaders discussing their goal of global Jewish hegemony by subverting the morals of Gentiles and by controlling the press and the world's economies. It is still widely available today — still presented, typically, as a genuine document — on the Internet and in print in numerous languages.
Even if you could show that none of the events, meetings, or correspondence depicted in Protocols ever took place, it could never meet the objection that, taken as a whole, the narrative still contained the "truth" about the Jews. In that plane, evidence has no place. What predominates in that airy sphere are symbols, sacraments, and chants.
One of George Orwell's most important insights is that all totalitarian ideologies — all methods of control — fundamentally required a religious liturgy to persist. It was faith — or its evil twin prejudice — that you really had to appeal to.
Hence, beneath the veneer of ostensibly rational discourse which outfits like Media Matters professed to espouse was an enormous need to hate. Given a photo, they just had to hate Drudge for it. They couldn't help themselves. And now that it didn't work out they'll find something else. It was an itch they needed to scratch.
An itch.
Therefore the wise dictator gives his dupes the periodic opportunity to throw off their thinking selves and momentarily indulge themselves in a tribal frenzy if ever they hope to stay in power. How Orwell put it:
The programmes of the Two Minutes Hate varied from day to day, but there was none in which Goldstein was not the principal figure. He was the primal traitor, the earliest defiler of the Party's purity. All subsequent crimes against the Party, all treacheries, acts of sabotage, heresies, deviations, sprang directly out of his teaching. Somewhere or other he was still alive and hatching his conspiracies: perhaps somewhere beyond the sea, under the protection of his foreign paymasters, perhaps even — so it was occasionally rumoured — in some hiding-place in Oceania itself …
Before the Hate had proceeded for thirty seconds, uncontrollable exclamations of rage were breaking out from half the people in the room. The self-satisfied sheep-like face on the screen, and the terrifying power of the Eurasian army behind it, were too much to be borne: besides the sight or even the thought of Goldstein produced fear and anger automatically. He was an object of hatred more constant than either Eurasia or Eastasia, since when Oceania was at war with one of these Powers it was generally at peace with the other. But what was strange was that although Goldstein was hated and despised by everybody, although every day and a thousand times a day, on platforms, on the telescreen, in newspapers, in books, his theories were refuted, smashed, ridiculed, held up to the general gaze for the pitiful rubbish that they were — in spite of all this, his influence never seemed to grow less. Always there were fresh dupes waiting to be seduced by him. A day never passed when spies and saboteurs acting under his directions were not unmasked by the Thought Police. He was the commander of a vast shadowy army, an underground network of conspirators dedicated to the overthrow of the State.
Every myth is like that. Paradise and the Fall. The Villain and the Hero. Except with Marx the cast of characters has been changed to suit. But it's the same deal. What the Party participants who emerged drunken with hate never realized was that Two Minutes Hate was a potion used to control them. They were administered a jolt aimed at misdirecting and ultimately dulling the mind, not so that they could eventually become free — but so that they could keep enjoying the Two Minutes Hate.
Was there ever a Goldstein? Was Eastasia really ever at war with Oceania? What is crazy perhaps, is to inquire after the facts as if they mattered. They never really mattered outside of math and engineering and, perhaps, real spirituality. Did they ever?
How to Publish on Amazon's Kindle for $2.99
The Three Conjectures at Amazon Kindle for $1.99
Storming the Castle at Amazon Kindle for $3.99
No Way In at Amazon Kindle $3.99, print $9.99


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Associate Professor, Department of Surgery
Dr. Kimberley Steele, M.D. specializes in general surgery, minimally-invasive surgery, and bariatric surgery. She has research interests in the neurochemical and metabolic effects of bariatric surgery, and operative techniques in laparoscopic surgery.
A diplomate of the American Board of Surgery, Dr. Steele is a member of the Society of American Gastrointestinal Endoscopic Surgeons, the American College of Surgeons and the Association of Women Surgeons.
Dr. Steele is active in curriculum development and research in surgical education and directs the surgical rotations of medical students at the Johns Hopkins Bayview Medical Center.


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"How much is it worth being apart of the group?"
A lot of people want to belong to a social group. And for most of us, we have at some point in our lives were members or are members of a group. But what is the reason one need to belong to a group? Well, there are a multitude of reasons as to why. I have decided to write about the few reasons why so many have chosen to be apart of a group. My conclusion that I have come up with as to why we need a group is because of not wanting to become ostracized, fear of being alone, and a need to belong to something. These are, in my opinion, the top reasons why we join.
For starters, we don't want to be ostracized like the others we deem to be losers. When you're growing up in school, you want to belong to a group. And when I say belong to group, you want to be one of the popular kids in school. We don't pay heed to the personalities of the kids in the group or how they treat other people. We want to be accepted by our peers within the group. So, a lot of times we'll join in on the ignorance of the group just to be accepted. The group skips school, you go with them. The group gets caught getting high, you're with them. Whatever they do you do, just to belong. But this goes beyond school kids. There are adults who play the I would rather be in a group than not game as well.
This leads me to my next reason why people join groups. We as humans need some form of companionship. And being in a group is part of that companionship. Because think about it, who really wants to be alone. You see elderly people walking up the street. They have no friends, no family, no nothing. All they have is themselves and the thoughts in their heads. So with all that has been said, why wouldn't you want to be in a group. Because then again, everybody want to be apart of something. Which leads into my third reason why we join groups. This is the main reason in my opinion why we all want to belong to something great.
Being apart of something great is an aspiration of most of us. Even if being apart of the group means just standing next to the greatness. It's the reason we apply to certain colleges, associate with a certain groups of people, or work for a certain organization. Just look at the entourage of famous celebrities. Not everyone in that group has a purpose, but some people need to be in the vicinity of something great. In the end, we all want to belong to something. We hate being alone and yearn for companionship. Just as long as you don't associate with a group that is detrimental to your safety, you're fine.


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- Photo sizesSquare
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Home / Butler County / 17-9 Paddy's Run [5]
- Title, side A
- Paddy's Run
- Text, side A
- The foundation for the first Welsh settlement in Ohio was laid on June 29, 1801, when William and Morgan Gwilym purchased land in what is now Morgan Township at the Cincinnati Land Office. The Welsh, who settled in Pennsylvania beginning in the late eighteenth century, moved westward and settled here in 1802. This area was also the major terminus for the 1818 migration from Montgomeryshire and Cardiganshire in Wales. In 1803 a Congregational Church was organized and services were held in members' homes or outdoors. A brick Meetinghouse, complete with a Welsh death door leading to the cemetery, was constructed in 1824. The building now serves as the Community House. The present brick church was built in 1854. For many years, the library, formed in 1852, was housed in the New London Special School District building that stood on this site. (Continued on other side)
- Text, side B
- (Continued from other side) A post office, established in 1831, was named for a nearby stream called Paddy's Run, the local name of New London having been rejected by the Postmaster General. Objecting to being called "Paddies" outside the community, younger residents lobbied for a name change. The community became Glendower in 1886 and again Paddy's Run in 1888 after citizens staged a boycott of the Post Office in 1887. As a compromise, the name was changed to Shandon in 1893. From this first Welsh settlement came Gomer and Venedocia in northwest Ohio and communities in northeastern Indiana. Welsh communities located in east Tennessee, Illinois, Iowa, and Wisconsin can trace their roots back to Paddy's Run. Paddy's Run was the birthplace of influential Ohioans including Murat Halstead, journalist and editor well-known as a war correspondent; Albert Shaw, editor of the Review of Reviews; Dr. Mark Francis, pioneer in the field of veterinary medicine; and Dr. Edward Francis, researcher with the U.S. Public Health Service.
- Sponsors
- The Ohio Bicentennial Commission, The Longaberger Company, Morgan Township Historical Society, and The Ohio Historical Society
- Address
- Across from 4750 Cincinnati Brookville Rd/OH 126
Shandon, OH 45063
- Location
- Just S of Alert New London Rd, on the right immediately past the Morgan Twp Fire Station


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When you run a report, the report triggers are called in a specific order.
The following illustration describes the order of report triggers.
Report Triggers
When you initiate the report run, the OnInitReport Trigger is called. If the OnInitReport does not end the processing of the report, then the request page for the report is run, if it is defined. The page triggers for the request page are called. On the request page, you select the options that you want for this report. You can also decide to cancel the report run. If you decide to continue, then the OnPreReport Trigger is called. At this point, no data has yet been processed. When the OnPreReport trigger has been executed, the first data item is processed provided that the processing of the report was not ended in the OnPreReport trigger.
When the first data item has been processed, the next data item, if there is any, is processed in the same way. When there are no more data items, the OnPostReport Trigger is called to do any necessary post processing, for example, removing temporary files.
|If you define two functions that have the same name, one defined in a report and the other in a table that is referenced by the report, you cannot invoke the function defined in the report directly. By default, a call to the function invokes the function that is defined in the table. This behavior occurs when the function is called from a source expression or a trigger.
How a Data Item is Processed
Before the first record is retrieved, the OnPreDataItem Trigger is called, and after the last record has been processed, the OnPostDataItem Trigger is called.
Between these two triggers, the data item records are processed. Processing a record means executing the record triggers and outputting data. After a record is retrieved from the data item, the OnAfterGetRecord (Data Items) Trigger is called.
If there is an indented data item, then the records in this data item are processed.
When there are no more records to be processed in a data item, control returns to the point from which processing was initiated. For an indented data item, this means the next record of the data item on the next highest level. If the data item is already on the highest level, then control returns to the report.


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As UA emphasizes,
One major goal of the CBA is to stabilize and regularize the non-tenure-track faculty positions at the UO and to reduce reliance on adjuncts to those situations that are truly of a temporary and limited duration. This initial reclassification process is meant to have units examine all their current adjunct positions and reclassify those that should really be Career NTT positions.
We anticipate that over 400 adjunct faculty will be considered for this reclassification to Career NTTF, and many will be reclassified soon.
The administration has been working with unit heads on the initial adjunct reclassification process and held a training workshop on this issue on November 7. A UA Implementation Committee is also working closely with the administration to ensure this process is conducted in all units in accordance with the intentions of the CBA.Stay tuned as their contract implementation continues to unfold!


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....I didn't walk that one either, but I thought of you! You know you have to read these from the bottom up, this is the last of three comments.
....I'm starting to notice the unobtrusive little signs for labyrinths in various places. Like the one at Sycamore Mineral Springs Resort in Avila Beach....
Was there anyone else at the world's largest labyrinth on world labyrinth day? I'm starting to worry about you a little bit, Nan. And me too....
Hi,These are some photos I took. I like to take Self Portraits. I will be taking more pictures of Costa Rica. Thank for your selfy. --http://onedaytop.com/
Hi,Great content. Thanks for sharing insightful information on the rights. Here I am having one basic question.Very well posted I enjoyed it.http://onedaytop.
WOW!! Gary's Blog One Last Look Saw the last sunset of our stay tonight.Amazing post...http://onedaytop.com/trump-family-commercial-enterprise-well-worth-fr
Green, or common, iguanas are among the largest lizards in the Americas, averaging around 6.5 feet ...http://onedaytop.com/iron-poisoning-dog/


text: 2013 Mekong Sediment Basics (Vietnamese Language) Những vấn đề cơ bản về trầm tích sông Mê Công Author: Pukinskis, Ilse; Access: Open Access; Item Link: Source URL Citation: Pukinskis, I. Mekong Sediment Basics. February, 2013. State of Knowledge Series 2. Vientiane, Lao PDR, Challenge Program on Water and Food. Tags: Mekong, Cambodia, Laos, Thailand, Vietnam, State of Knowledge, DOWNLOAD FILE


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Home Chefs Kit for our creative foodies.
Come together around food & play!
Add new textures and flavours to your food experience.
Use Hemp in different forms with your favourite ingredients/dishes
Share your creations, we'd love to see what you come up with!
Get your boost of instant nutrition, in fun, easy ways.
Home Chefs Kit includes Hemp Seed Oil (150 ml) + Trailmix Hemplet (250 gms) + Hearts Hemplet (250gms)
Offer: Rs.1200
- Boosts energy & immunity (contains Vitamin E, Potassium, Iron and Magnesium)
- Protects brain, heart, joints and skin (Omega 3 & Omega 6)
- Promotes gut health (High Fibre content, complete amino acid profile)
- Secret crunch factor (Trail mix - hemp, flax, sesame, pumpkin and sunflower seeds)


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5 injured in Route 50 accident near Bay Dale Drive
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Five people, including three children, were seriously injured in a motor vehicle collision Sunday night in Annapolis. Just before 10:30 p.m. units were dispatched to the area of Bay Dale Drive and Route 50 for a reported auto accident. Arriving units located a single vehicle accident with one occupant trapped and six other occupants injured. The trapped occupant was extricated in about five minutes. Two Maryland State Police helicopters were requested to the scene and transported four patients to the pediatric and adult trauma centers at John Hopkins Hospital. Patients transported by helicopter with serious injuries included a 45 year old male, a 41 year old female, a 14 year old male and a five month old male. A fifth patient, a 14 year old female was transported to Hopkins by paramedics. Two additional patients were transported to Anne Arundel Medical Center with minor injuries.
Source: AACoFD
[do action="blackwall-hitch"/]
Category: Local News, NEWS


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Help with benefits
Benefits calculators
Work out what benefits you could get with an online calculator.
How benefits are paid
Find out about how and when your benefits are paid.
Self-employment and Universal Credit
If you're self-employed, but on a low income or out of work, you may be able to get Universal Credit.
Money Talk Team
The Money Talk Team is a service that offers money advice to older people and families.
It helps explain how to make the most of your income and make sure you're not paying more than you need to for services like gas, electricity and internet.
It can help you find out:
- what benefits you can get
- how to save money on your bills
- what other money you may be entitled to
You can chat to the Money Talk Team by calling 0800 085 7145, or by setting up a meeting to your local Citizens Advice Bureau.
Benefit cap
The benefit cap is the limit on the total amount of benefit that most people aged between 16 and 64 can get.
Find out more about the benefit cap.
Budgeting Loans
A Budgeting Loan can help you pay for things like your rent, things you need at home and some debts.
Find out more Budgeting Loans.
You can also get help to save if you're on a low income.
Getting local benefits advice
If you need help with a benefits problem or cannot work out what you're entitled to, there are local organisations who can give you advice and support.
Your local council
Many local councils have welfare rights advisers who can:
- tell you what benefits and other entitlements are available
- carry out checks so you don't miss out on any benefits
- help you complete forms
- give advice and support if your application for a benefit is turned down or you do not get the amount you were expecting
Citizens Advice Scotland
The advisers at your local Citizens Advice Bureau give information on benefits and other issues like housing, debt and employment. Find a bureau near you.
If you need to claim Universal Credit, Citizens Advice can support you in the early stages of your claim. Find out more about Help to Claim.
Shelter Scotland
0808 800 4444 (Monday to Friday, 9am to 5pm)
Find a Shelter Scotland project near you for advice on benefits and other problems related to housing.
Age Scotland
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Get benefits advice for older people at your nearest Age Scotland office.
Turn to Us
This charity helps people in financial hardship find advice on benefits, housing, jobs and legal issues.
Macmillan Cancer Support
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Macmillan advisers offer benefits advice for people affected by cancer. Search for support in your local area and filter the search results to 'benefits advice services'.
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Rihanna Says Boyfriend Matt Kemp Keeps Her 'Sane'
From the dramatic fashion statements to the sharp-edged radio hits, [artist id="1940303"]Rihanna[/artist] has evolved over the past year from pop princess to rock star. While last year her personal life was the source of much chronicled drama, the singer recently revealed that these days it's her romance with boyfriend and L.A. Dodgers player Matt Kemp that keeps her grounded.
"I have a boyfriend. I'm so happy. I feel really comfortable, and it's so easy," Rihanna gushes in the latest issue of Elle magazine. "I have such a chaotic life, but at the end of the day, that is just my peace. It keeps me sane, really, talking to him and talking to my family."
Rihanna has spent most of the past year reinventing herself as a boundary-pushing artist; abandoning her sunny pop jams and good-girl charm in favor of gritty hits and a highly stylized image. Earlier this week, [article id="1641027"]"Love the Way You Lie," her collaboration with Eminem[/article] that laments the torturous cycle of an abusive relationship, leaked to the Internet. And in the interview with Elle, the singer opened up about her emotional state over a year ago when she sustained the now infamously brutal attack at the hands of former boyfriend Chris Brown.
"A year ago, I was very confused," the star revealed to Elle. "Because he was my best friend. All of a sudden, one night changed our whole lives -- not only our friendship, but our lives. I wanted to wake up one day and just not have that pain anymore. I wanted to be with him again or get over him -- it was either-or. I just didn't want to feel the pain, the confusion."
The superstar talked about the moody, black-and-white album art of Rated R, which she released in the wake of her "life-changing" experience with Brown. "I wanted pictures that represented strength and fearlessness but still femininity -- a strong woman who can be vulnerable. Every woman is made up of vulnerability and strength; no matter what race you are, no matter what you've been through in your life."
After lighting up red carpets with her daring fashion choices, inspiring legions of girls to lop off their locks to match her evolving pixie cut, Rih Rih is known as much for her style as her sound. When it comes to designers, the star said she favors labels with an equally intrepid approach to fashion.
"I respect designers who aren't afraid to go outside of the box," she said. "I went to a Jean Paul Gaultier show, and I saw girls who are thicker than me, beautiful and voluptuous and different ethnicities. That made me so excited. I thought, 'OK, I can work that, for sure.' "
What is your favorite of Rihanna's recent looks? Let us know in the comments.


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Top 10 Qualities of Best Friends
Top 10 Qualities of Best Friends
Rightly called, man is a social animal. I cannot even visualize a person travelling a lonely road all all during his life towards the very end. After all, you need an important person to walk along, someone to guide as well as someone to hold up you through the ups as well as downs of this trip. Friends are people in your life who make your life beautiful as well as worth living. A top friend, however, is just next to a soul mate. He or she will be with you when you rise, when you fall, as well as when you want to rise yet again. All of us make good friends in school, some of them we call as our best friends. Then most often, life takes a turn as well as you people end up in diverse colleges, under pressure to make a career of your imaginings. companionship may or may not give in, but you definitely come across newer people, make newer friends as well as perhaps they also become your new best friends. finest friends may change over time but the qualities that make them stand out as well as take over that central post in your life are more or less the same. Given below are 10 qualities best friends possess or must hold, which ultimately leads them being called the 'best' of all:
10. They do what interests you; they are fun to be with!!
9. They are not just attentive to your words but your expressions:
8. Expect honesty and straightforwardness from them:
7. You have got someone who will protect you throughout:
6. Generosity is their way:
5. They bring out the best in you:
4. They care and they show:
3. Treasure them; they are worth your trust!:
2. They will never let you feel alone! :
1. They love you UNCONDITIONALLY:


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The Columbia University School of International and Public Affairs is pleased to announce the application for the Yellow Ribbon Program Scholarship, available to eligible veterans of the U.S. Armed Forces, for the 2020/21 academic year.
About the Yellow Ribbon Program and Eligibility
The Yellow Ribbon Program is an initiative authorized by the Veterans Educational Assistance Act of 2008 (the Post-9/11 GI Bill ®) in which educational institutions provide eligible student veterans with a partial tuition waiver or grant matched by the U.S. Department of Veteran Affairs. This program supplements the base educational benefits provided by the Post-9/11 GI Bill.
To be eligible for the Yellow Ribbon Program, you must be a U.S. veteran eligible for the maximum level (100%) of benefits under the Post-9/11 GI Bill according to your VA Certificate of Eligibility. If you are a veteran of the U.S. Armed Forces and would like to learn more about eligibility for these benefits, please click here.
The Scholarship Application
SIPA is committed to honoring those who have served our country by participating in the Yellow Ribbon Program.
An application is required and will be available on Friday May 15, at noon, Eastern Daylight Time at this link. No other documentation is required.
Please complete the application no later than close of business, June 1, 2020, at which time the application will be taken down.
Additional Notes
If you received a Yellow Ribbon scholarship in the 2019/20 academic year, you need not reapply — your award will be renewed as long as you are enrolled full-time and meeting academic standards and VA eligibility requirements.
SIPA will make every attempt to fund every eligible candidate but cannot guarantee that, so funding will be on a first come, first served basis.
SIPA thanks those who have served our country and we look forward to working with you. Please email SIPA Financial Aid at sipa_finaid (at) columbia.edu if you have any questions.


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I really wanted to share this wonderful story of Aoibhe – and thanks to her lovely mum Donna for allowing me to. As part of Lymphoedema Awareness Month in March, Donna told Aiobhe's story to 'Mummy Pages' and it really made me smile.
It can be very hard to find stories about Lymphoedema that are positive and as a parent of a child with Lymphoedema these scary stories can be extremely upsetting. The media in particular always like to take the 'doom and gloom' angle in any story because quite frankly they think it makes for a better story.
It was so refreshing to read such a positive account and in Donna's words, 'to show that once Lymphoedema is managed, life can be good'. So thanks to Donna and to Mummy Pages as well for telling a different side to the condition.
I whole heartedly agree and this was exactly why I started this blog – to counteract some of the worst case scenario stuff that we felt swamped by in the beginning. Positivity and getting on with life is paramount for us.
Click here to read the article and enjoy!


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You know why I hate departmental meetings?
Because nothing ever gets done.
And you know why nothing ever gets done?
Because people – great, well-intentioned, brilliant, hard-working people – keep raising endless, nit-picking objections to every single proposal. As a result, every practical suggestion is drowned in a mass of clarifications, footnotes, parentheses that dilute the suggestion to the point where nothing of value can ever come out of it.
And this annoys me and raises my blood pressure to the point where you can boil a kettle on the nape of my neck.
I was asked to comment on a post that responds to the study of job market trends I linked earlier today. That post illustrates exactly what I find so obnoxious about so many of my colleagues. Its author berates the study's creator for not mentioning that a global economic crisis started in 2008. Of course, people who have not suffered extensive brain damage in the past five years are not likely to remain unaware of the crisis but who cares about a minor detail like that when you have the perfect opportunity to nitpick?
The rest of the post offers a perfect example of academic self-loathing and temerity. "We need to sit very quietly," its author seems to suggest. "Because actual human beings find us unacceptable":
Because here's the thing: people don't like academics. They don't. We can have a long conversation about the reasons why and the consequences, but that's the fact.
I haven't met any people who dislike academics, so I'm venturing a guess that they can be found among fans of Fox News and Duck Dynasty. In any case, they are very unlikely to frequent Rebecca Schuman's blog where the study in question was published. So the idea that we will get "them" to like "us" by making it very clear we have noticed the recession seems a little too hopeful.
Nit-picking and self-loathing are small potatoes, however, compared to the quality that academics possess in excessive degree and that routinely drives me to distraction. I'm talking, of course, of drama-queenishness. I will always feel an alien in this culture of overwrought melodramatic self-pity:
They become, instead, merely more suckers in an economy full of suckers, losers in a society where the loser-winner split is something like 99 to 1. . . They want to represent their very real, very degrading labor market problems and poor working conditions as special, and the academy as a specially exploitative employer. But there is nothing special about us. The academy is a factory, like any other, and we're all assembly line workers*, and until we accept that fact and work in tandem with the rest of the losers in a comprehensively broken economy, no positive progress will be made.
I read this and I imagine an aging provincial actor who has always played very minor parts and now has suddenly been given an opportunity to play Hamlet. So he wheezes, rages, and thrashes about, knowing that this is his first and last chance to shine.
This happens all the time with academics who slip into cheap melodrama without any provocation. And while we all declaim, preach and rant about the abject horror of our overfed existences, nothing ever gets done.
Of course, the author of the quoted post is still very young, so let's hope that this is all just a pose and not his actual way of being. There is still time to ditch melodrama and self-pity. The army of academic drama queens does not need yet another recruit.
* Yes, this is from the same article that berates somebody else for antagonizing "them simple, uneducated folks." Priceless. I'd ask my husband who has both worked as an assembly-line factory worker and done a PhD at Purdue (not at the same time, obviously) if these experiences were alike but I don't want him to think I'm a spoiled brainless brat.