I LOVE PEOPLE, but...

I actually do love people very much, but…

Society has been a thing for now over ten thousand years. And while the progress humanity made in terms of human rights is astounding in the past 80 years. I find it as fascinating as writers back during world war 2, the great war, the Napoleonic wars, and many others in the past did, that we believe ourselves to be civilized people. Hell, George Carlin said the same thing not fifty years ago. Yet we quote the man and his words still hold true to this day, a thing that we shouldn’t celebrate it. A thing that we should be terrified of. Any writing, theater piece, song, moral that is old and still holds true, does not show the timelessness of the piece, it shows the lack of progress. So, I find it hard to take any pride in what I do, what I write, what I believe, when I see people with their whole might trying to hold onto outdated and violent values. Even the church itself changed how it interprets the holy texts. Yet we look at the violence, the hierarchy we keep from feudalism yet disguised as the ultra rich, as things we need. Yes, technically anyone can become the ultra rich, but the chances of that are getting smaller and smaller as the disparity between the rich and poor has been forever growing. 

Yet in a world of plenty, most people are getting scraps, if anything. And do you see what I mean? This is going to be a long post complaining about shit people aren’t doing right. We’re fucking up the bag, we’re ruining the only fucking place we get to live on. There won’t be a Mars colony any time soon. And when there will be one, you won’t be on it, sweetie. There won’t be enough resources to get you close to even escape the hell we are creating for ourselves here. Because there’s no way more than a few thousand people will manage to escape this to Mars, the Moon or a space station, if that. And not that I hate to break it to you, but, much like me, you’re a nobody. When it comes to survival, humanity is quite bad at pulling together, unless that is the only option, which we clearly haven’t grasped that it’s the only solution we have left. What I am trying to say is that I love people, I do. But I find it frustrating to befriend them, when they talk about fucking, drinking, fighting, misogyny, misandry, how they’re racists, xenophobic, and all other sorts of phobic. And you can’t fucking tell them that saying those things is wrong, and not free speech cause it’s violence. Nor can’t you tell them that you couldn’t give a shit about drinking or fucking or fighting people, cause you find that stupid. Because that is their level, what they can afford to think, be or have fun with. Some do other things as well, of course, some, that’s their whole personality. And that’s what it is. It’s not like we’re creating more chances for them to do more or be more.

So, you see, it’s not that I dislike people, I love them. But people don’t make the case for themselves. I’ve seen good people turn fascists. I’ve seen smart people become the dumbest people you could possibly imagine. And those that hold out all have problems. Mentally, physically, both, me included, I have problems of all sorts. But most of them come from people. As I can’t control them. As I can’t talk to all of them. And even if I do, it’s not like there’s a point in trying to convince them of anything. People are so ingrained in their social programming they could kill a fucking puppy if you told them it’s their worst enemy. They certainly don’t care about killing babies in the middle east. If you read to this point and you think that this sounds harsh, these exact sentiments I displayed for the past 2 years, and you can read these sentiments on a nicer tone. Yet, I do not know what else to say to make you believe me that I love people. Because otherwise why would I care this much? Why would I want people to be decent? Why would I want people to rid themselves of hate and violence? Why would I want people to come from a place of good faith? Why would I want people to have better, easier, nicer lives? And advocate for all this if I hated them? I don’t know how else to put it. I love people, but if we let ourselves be driven be greed, power, violence, outdated values, we are not pleasant or someone I want to be around very much. As these people are anxiety and stress inducing…

You can read the exclusive story on Nobody The Extra blog with the tagline “Everything happening is a story…”

People Don't Understand Violence: Part 1 - History of Consequences

Everything is history and everything is context, including you.

To understand all of violence, you need to understand that this world, us people, were always violent, first and foremost. Then we need to understand that violence is not all physical. I do understand that when someone says violence, they imagine someone hitting someone, worst case scenario. Best case scenario, they also include someone screaming at someone, thus verbal violence. The utmost best case scenario is that they include hate speech and race based violence in this. Which is not wrong, but that is not all violence. And in this two parter we will dissect the idea of violence. But, as mentioned at the beginning of this paragraph, we need to understand that our history is one of violence. We will focus on this now, and we will discuss the forms of violence in the second part. 

A. You, yourself and then I.

The history of the world is violent. You were born into it, as the world is violent. If the world, wouldn’t be violent, everyone would have access to everything they needed and there would be no war. But that is not the case. You were born in a world of violence. Diminishing violence, but still violence. You exist in the context of history. What is happening in this world at any given moment, is history. Whether it is notable or not, it is history nonetheless. And if we understand that the history of humanity is one of violence, which makes the world we live in also one of violence, this means we’re victims of violence. I already talked about that before here, so I won’t go into details anymore. You can access the post by click this sentence. 

So, what you have a choice being born in a world of violence. Try to change it or work within it, thus becoming another violent cog in the machine. Yes, you were not born in the Jim Crow era, nor have you passed that law, and all you want is to live your life. But, you are not doing much to stand in the way of the oppressor or the violence, thus you are a cog in the violent machine. Yes, you did not actively participate in the violence, but by feeding into it without pushing for any change, or without calls to cull the violence, you are a part of it. The easiest example would be to think of yourself as part of Nazi Germany. What do you think you would have done, if you knew and saw what was happening? Do you think that the world would have seen you as a moral decent person, knowing that everywhere in Germany people would get killed for simply being different and you chose to do nothing? Of course, if you are a decent person, this question would make you feel uncomfortable. But the answer would be quite clear. If the answer is complicated, then I recommend some soul searching.

My point is that yes, this world and its history is one of violence, you being born into it, so no choice of yours. But, what you do within it, is… And no matter what came before you, while you are born, once you have grown to use your own two eyes and discern what is good or bad, there is a responsibility to be had. Where we stand up for what is morally right. And with the world currently with ongoing genocides, that is multiple, you should see how important this is.

B. History is always in context.

Now, that we understand that you are in context, and the context is violence, we need to understand the following important thing. HISTORY IS ALWAYS IN CONTEXT. There is NOTHING in this world that it is in its own vacuum. A conflict that starts tomorrow can have its roots 20 years ago, 30 years ago, 100 years ago, 200 years ago, even 2000 years ago, it still matters when it started, how it went along and how those events then defined how things are now. You can NOT look at African countries, Muslim countries, Central and South American countries and say “They failed their people”. They did not have a choice in the matter. They haven’t been able to run their own countries on their own for hundreds of years. And then you can say, “But Nobody, look at Saudi Arabia, Qatar and other rich countries.” Yes, what’s the difference between those rich countries and those poorer? The intervention of the global super powers and imperial powers. For example, Iran. Back after world war 2, Iran was a developing nation, that was quite progressive. But in the 60s, due to them refusing to let the UK bleed them dry of their natural gasses and oils, the UK funded a fundamentalist violent man and did a coup d’état. Once installed in power, that fundamentalist gave UK what they wanted and turned the country into what we know today. This happened over 50 years ago, this has consequences today, still. You can NOT look at Iran today and say that it’s because what they decided 10 years ago. This has been a direct consequence of an imperial power. Link to the coup in Iran click this sentence.

The same can be applied to all the regions I mentioned where a global super power or more intervened. You look at all the conflicts and there is a good reason for it. Whether it’s the batshit crazy borders that were drawn after the first world war by literally TWO countries. (Link to consequences) Whether it’s the direct or indirect intervention of powers after World War 2, during the Cold War. Everything that is happening today is a direct consequence of what happened a long time ago. Whatever it is, you can look at history, and neatly point it out from a to z for every single conflict there is right now, to those imperialistic super powers did in the past over 100 years. I could go on and on and on and on, about these countries that were ravaged by imperialism, sucked dry by capitalism, corrupted by money, couped into oblivion every single time they did something a certain imperialist power did not want. And then they wonder why they can’t do much? Why are they so poor? Why are they violent? Why are they corrupt? Why don’t they just fix their own countries? Never to look at the consequence of their own actions. Or look at their ongoing actions. How are Venezuelans supposed to fix anything? They are under an embargo. Well, why are they under an embargo? Well, same goes for Cuba. Which, incidentally in both cases, the only country that keeps voting for those embargoes and keeps vetoing lifting the embargoes is the United States of America. The United States of America also pushed the coup in Venezuela in 2002. So without trade, how are the supposed to do anything? And, if you are going to say “it’s because Maduro” or “it’s because of the cold war or socialism”, you are not right. The US does plenty of business with tyrants, dictators and kings. Just look at Saudi Arabia, who probably did 9/11. So, unless you understand that history is in context, and what is happening now is because of what happened some time ago. And that your actions, lack there of, or the actions of others are going to have long term consequences, you can not understand what is ever going to happen to you or around you. And you will ALWAYS create consent for more violence. 

And now, just because we’re not constantly at war with each other, doesn’t mean that there’s no violence. It’s just that the types of violence we have are now very conniving. But we will talk about that in the second part. When part 2 is published it will be a link here to take you directly there.

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Here is the cover photo for an exclusive post on Nobody’s Extra Blog with the tag: A mask crafted is a curse created. A mask worn is a miserable self-fulfilling prophecy.

Your Job Makes You Dumber

All hail the rage bait…

By the way, this is part 4 out of 4, of a mini-series about work, self-improvement, life philosophy, that are tied together. Since I do have more about the exact same topics. Not that you have to read the rest to understand this post.

Read part 1 here: https://www.raulfo.com/nobodytheblog/2024/5/21/levels-to-life

Read part 2 here: https://www.raulfo.com/nobodytheblog/2024/6/25/overwork-overkills-you

Read part 3 here: https://www.raulfo.com/2024/10/11/culture-of-the-future-past

While the title might be provocative, since most people identify and take pride in their jobs. Much like everything we do, the things we like, we make part of our ego. Whether it makes sense or not, we look at jobs as developmental. And they are to a certain degree. But, much like education, most corporations, thus most jobs, aren’t setup for you to succeed. They are meant to hold you down in the same position for as long as possible. With the promise of raises, bonuses, promotions, a party or two a year, anything most companies do, is NOT there to promote you and develop you. It’s there to make use of you. The more productive, the better.  Doesn’t matter to the company your actual worth or how much money you bring in, as long as you do not know what your worth is, it’s fine. And the bigger the company the easier is for them to make you look as easily replaceable and disposable.

Why do I have to preface this? Because, if there’s an illusion that your workplaces is your “family” or anything delusional like that, I want to remind you that most companies and corporations made record profits in the last 5 years, and you have gotten nothing out of it. And I am sure that your company is an exception, unless you google it. 

Let’s think about it. It’s Monday, unless you work from home, you wake up, you start getting ready for work and then you go to work. That means that those morning hours are not really for yourself, you are preparing for something, your job. You don’t have time to enjoy your morning, unless you put the effort to wake up that extra little early, which, why would we? Sleep is amazing. Then, you waste time on the road to work, unless you are lucky enough to live near where you work, you are going to waste at best an hour, at worst more, going to work. Those are two to three hours already wasted during the week going and preparing for work. Now, you go to work, unless you work part-time, this is at least NINE MORE fucking hours of your day. Because you do have that half an hour to an hour lunch break. Then, you have another hour or more going back home. That means that every single day BILLIONS of people use twelve to fourteen hours per day for work. Unless they work twelve hour shifts, then it’s sixteen hours per day for work. Then you expect these same people to have time for art? Themselves? Self-improvements? To clean? To cook? To socialize? And THEN sleep eight hours? When? How? With what time?

And most jobs are repetitive, best case scenario, you get new cases on the same line where you need to fix, but where you do not need to bring any new skills into it. So, you don’t actual develop anything else, you just get better and faster at your job. That is, if you have who to work with.

So, most people, a. can’t afford to get smarter, b. even those that afford to get smarter, their job is too specific on a niche to use more than one or two brain cells. Of course, unless you innovate. But innovation costs money, if you need money to innovate, your job will not innovate anything.  Because innovation cuts into profits, and unless your job brings more money after the innovation, your job does not matter. You are a sucker of funds that if it were after them, they would rather NOT have you there. So, unless you can innovate without money, that’s not an option. Or, unless the government gives a grant to create the innovation. The point remains, most jobs are not there for your personal benefit. 

So, with the promise of education taking you to the next level, we get a job. But, much like education, culturally, we look to jobs like dead ends. As a director, a CEO, a doctor, lawyer, whatever high reputation job is seen as forever. But, unless you are ignorant, even a doctor goes to meet with other doctors or study and keep learning their whole life, since science always advances. A lawyer keeps learning as laws keep changing. A CEO, keeps, uhm, so, well… Gets bonuses for firing people? But you get the idea. Some of these jobs include a constant learning and development process. Most jobs do at a certain level, that is true. But, learning about the same subject and nothing else, is dangerous. People can get blunt and burned out, or they can feed into their ego that they know everything and that there’s nothing else to learn. Thus transforming people into either depressed/frustrated professionals or egotistical monsters that know better than anyone. Because in life you need something more than your job, in order to live a healthy life. By this I do not mean just have a significant other, going shopping, watching some trash series, and going out drinking with friends. Those are but the bare minimum in order to live a simple decent life. But that decent simple life, is not one you will be developing any deeper level. What I am trying to say, is that you have a responsibility to yourself to keep learning and developing yourself. Read a few books, be aware of what is happening in the world, check your sources, delved into art or projects, take time to develop your personality and beliefs. But, if you can’t afford to do this, because your job takes too much of your time, strains you so that during the weekend you can’t do these things. Then your job, objectively might make you dumber. Because change is happening and is ever present, if you do not keep up, you will find the world around you changed and you will not like what you see. So, if your job is not ever changing with the times, nor does it allow you to change with the times, you will be left behind in a world you won’t recognize and in a world you aren’t taking any part in. Which is scary and leads to fascism… But, we’re going to talk about that and people not understanding violence next.

Hope you liked this post. Leave me your opinion in the comments.

Culture of The Future-Past

Learn, work and then what?

By the way, this is part 3 out of 4, of a mini-series about work, self-improvement, life philosophy, that are tied together. Since I do have more about the exact same topics.

Read part 1 here: https://www.raulfo.com/nobodytheblog/2024/5/21/levels-to-life

Read part 2 here: https://www.raulfo.com/nobodytheblog/2024/6/25/overwork-overkills-you

Some of these things are not just cultural, they are something that has been seen everywhere in the past 80 years everywhere, not just the colonial and right countries. My grandmother said this to my father. My father told me the same thing. Every single close relative repeated the same thing every single time. And I can bet, that if you have close people to you and your life, you have heard the same thing I did. Go to school and learn, she said. Yet when I asked why, there was no other clear answer than you must. And do not misunderstand me, I am a big fan of education, and I think we all should go through school. But, the way we treat learning is oxymoronic. In order to learn, you need to remember things, and how things work, that is right. But, that only applies to the things we know or want to know. The problem is, that in life, and in our human history, there is a lot left that we do not know. And which we need to find out, try, experiment and do better. But, as long as our perception of education is as a tool we need in order to survive and nothing more, is something that is clearly detrimental. As you can witness in the rise of functionally illiterate people in the world, the rise of fascism, and the rise of celebrities that produce nothing of value, not even music, nevermind any actual good music, books or arts. These do not just happen because of a grand conspiracy of the great media trying to distract you from what’s happening in the world. These things happen because people pay attention, people buy into these things. Thus, they’re success and proliferation. Which means, the way we do education now, isn’t exactly great.

So, when all you hear is go and learn, for me, at least, it doesn’t have much value. Now, when the second part comes in, it all starts to feel like a scam. Because go to school, learn, get good grades and then you go to a good college, and then you get a good job. Like, hold on, where did these fucking steps come from? These isn’t what any of us signed up for. Now we also need good grades? Why aren’t average grades good enough? It’s not like these grades these anything but your capability to focus, remember and regurgitate material, so it might not be useful for any of us at any point in our lives. And again, do not misunderstand, I love knowing stuff, I look at stuff every day to learn at least one new fact about something, doesn’t matter what. I love pulling out random facts and factoids about stuff, it’s a neat party trick. But, while some of it useful to me in the writing process and in not making a fool out of myself when I can’t point Turkey on a map. Most of the knowledge I use in my day to day life, has been and will be outside of what I learned in any educational system with the exception of reading, counting and some other basic stuff we all learned. So then we go onto college, another thing I think should exist and be used by people. Sadly, like the rest of the educational system, college is bad for most of us. And this is a twofold thing. Firstly colleges, with few exceptions, rarely give you the practice and teachings you need to get a job once you finish it. Nor do they help you in finding the experience you need to get where you want. Thus most college students go and work outside their field. Then secondly, this is also a cultural issue, since we treat college as a paper you need to get in order to get a job, any job. And nowadays it doesn’t matter what experience and skills you actually have, you need a stupid fucking piece of paper to prove what exactly? What would a bachelor in literature prove to the IT firm about my qualifications when hiring me? NOTHING. And you can apply this to most jobs, from corporate to the service industry.

Then there’s the lie that even if you go through all these tedious steps, you might not get a job. There are plenty of people with degrees that have no jobs. Having a degree doesn’t mean much, if you do not have experience, and if your college is tight and fills up your days, in order to get those good grades, you might not have time to actually get experience to get hired. So, it’s like a… It’s bullshit, it’s what it is. Then there’s the fact that we now tell everyone that most important jobs are not careers. We need people in logistics, in sales, in the service industry or society collapses without its treats. But we tell those people that they’re not worth a damn, if they’re not upper management. But there’s is OBJECTIVELY not enough fucking jobs in upper management for us all to advance to. So, some of us are being fed bullshit. That’s why I said the way we treat education is an oxymoron. Go to school, learn, get good grades, go to a good college, get a job and then you’ll eventually get a good enough paying job. But that’s objectively a lie these days. In most of the world, wages have been stagnant, upward mobility has been shrinking, which means that those that were lucky to get the good jobs, won’t move from those jobs, unless they are offered better paying jobs. And with the retirement age getting lifted everywhere in the world, that means that those people will remain for longer in those positions. Giving younger generations no chance at the upward mobility they were fortunate to take part in. That can also lead to stagnation instead of innovation, as those in the jobs, long term, at least, will not bring any new ideas, as they have been far removed from the actual process for far too long. That’s why CEO as a profession is bullshit, but that’s a topic for another time. 

What I am trying to convey here, is that education should not be looked through this cultural lie, that a good education gets you a good and well paying job. Because it might not, unless you know someone or are rich. The education you got, if you have not been thought in the process of getting educated how to use it, it might not be useful to you. Especially if you’re not smart enough to figure out how to use it. And this education system, does not teach you how to use what you learn well enough for most people to even have the chance to get on the same level. And most colleges are not setup to set you up to work towards a job. And that wouldn’t be a problem, if the jobs wouldn’t be the same, but that’s the topic for the last part of this mini-series.

Hope you like this post.

For more exclusive content and early access to posts like these visit: https://www.raulfo.com/nobodys-extra-blog-landing-page

Here is the cover photo for an exclusive post on Nobody’s Extra Blog with the tag: A mask crafted is a curse created. A mask worn is a miserable self-fulfilling prophecy.

Nostalgia's Trap

Memories are deceitful. And when we make them an endless pit, we will drown chasing what never was.

I remember. Do you remember? What was your happiest childhood memory? Do you remember the endless summer days? Do you remember the flavor of your favorite childhood soda? Do you remember how happy you were? How much you were having? What about those endless nights gaming with your friends? Or those simple nights spent talking and riffing until the sun came up? Do you remember that one crazy friend we all had? Whatever happened to him? Do you remember how those days felt on your skin? Do you remember that one song you all used to sing? Brings you to tears now thinking back on those days, doesn’t it? Do you remember that day you all first got drunk? Do you remember how all that freedom made you feel? Of course you do. We all do. Well, we remember some form of it. I remember it one way, you remember it another, the neighbors that were forced to listen to us probably remember it some other way. But, I bet my dollar that you had an answer for all those questions. If you haven’t yet done down a spiral of nostalgia humming that one song, thinking of that one time, what are you waiting for? The allure of nostalgia is something that keeps us very much in a bind for eternity. Much like a drug, after the first free taste of it, we are beholden to come back for more and more. 

Our relationship with nostalgia is quite similar to our relationship with everything. In excess, it’s bad. There is no other way around it. And in this day and age, it feels like we have forgotten anything to do with any sort of moderation when it comes to nostalgia. Much, like spirituality, we took something of an aid to this terrible life we as humans created for ourselves, and now we are using it as the thing that drives us. As we start to believe in a mirage. And the more we push for it, the more it becomes a delusion, the worse things get, the more we want back to the good ol’ times. Like an idiotic self-fulfilling prophecy, we have blinded ourselves by snorting nostalgia to a degree where we can’t distinguish between a badly rendered memory and what was reality. Please continue reading to the last word, before you decide that what I am about to read is mean or bad. We take what we had for granted. Our ignorance and lack of supervision or any real responsibility was indeed freeing, but it also meant we were sheltered from the reality of our world. As we were left to our own devices to live life, experience it, make our memories, create the core of our nostalgia. And instead of learning how beautiful life could be if we all had the means to live a good life, we took it as life back then was good. Missing the entire point of your youth and freedom. So now we long for those times back, by wanting to restrict and recreate the same circumstances from back then, only without realizing that we’re constricting our own freedoms.

Our memories were great. The good, the bad, the very poor, in my case, I do remember things I loved. I remember things I regret doing or not. I remember that song fondly, I remember how those summer nights felt on my skin. How it felt to spend a night outside and just talk and laugh without a penny on my name. How it felt to play all day, enjoy summer to the fullest. I remember these things like they were yesterday as well. Otherwise I wouldn’t have chased that high again and started to buy retro games and consoles. But, nostalgia is a hell of a drug. It can blind us to the reality that is in front of us which we should confront, and it can turn us into dangerous addicts. As we try to force things back into something that never was and never can be again. The more one consumes nostalgia, the more the danger of getting mentally stunned at an back to an age of adolescence. Immature, unreasonable, with rose tinted glasses glued on whenever thinking of the past, someone addicted to this drug can have these symptoms as they are in a perpetual loop seeking the same thrills from when they felt at their freest, much like someone stuck in a never-ending midlife crisis. So, please, consume nostalgia at your own peril. But if you do, remember to do it with moderation.
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Here is the cover photo for an exclusive post on Nobody’s Extra Blog with the tag “Honesty, honestly, doesn’t work for everyone.” To read it visit the link above.

Dragons, Blood and Gold - Addendum - Bootstraps and All

With ash in mouth humanity bowed…

As the war between humans and dragons began, fire and death was about to fill the lands. While indiscriminate, dragons would burn with horrifying precision every human settlement. People tried any and every weapon at hand to fight off the giant beasts. As the first day ended, a hundred villages were burnt. to the ground. As the next day dawned, the first a hundred villages surrendered to the bid of the dragons. As the second day went on, more settlements burned, more settlements surrendered. Those that burned, were most long forgotten. Those that survived, knew their shame…

Yet that shame, with time, it dissipated. The privilege of seeing the sun another day, as they woke up and basked in its rays, felt like a blessing after all the death and destruction. And for the brief moment humans fought shoulder to shoulder and side by side, their own peace felt like a missed opportunity. As the years passed, the new generation had all but forgotten about their parents’ shame as they grew. They also forgot about the wrath of the dragons. Time had passed, and those that forgot about the shame had children of their own. Those children slowly grew to despise the dragons. Their grandfathers had lands, houses, connections to the dragons. They? They were promised that with humility and hard work above all, they’ll live happy, fulfilled lives. Yet while food was plenty at the mines, the hours were long. Shelters were compact to fit as many workers as possible, while more and more were forced to move towards the industrial settlements that humans needed to build in order to survive. The requirements were drastic, the amount of gold, gems and precious stones needed every month would fluctuate not on the reality in the mine, but on the whims of the dragons.

With times, the conditions only got worse for those that could not mine as much as they did before. Whether the mines were emptied, or it was too dangerous to dig to reach a new vein of gold, the dragons could not care less. While dragons would share in their spoils, they needed places to store all the wealth. Constructions in the mountains, and from rocks were build to acomodate both dragons and their wealth. Those that were not built underground or in mountains, were built as big as the mountains themselves. Much like mice in the house of the man, humans were puny and their paths were few and dangerously small to pass through the constructions in order to reach the dragons inside the giant constructions. 

Thus the first humans directly obeying and working for the dragons directly appeared only to work and live within those man-made constructions. The dragons liked the idea so much, they destroyed all housing in all the human settlements. All wealth they had gathered, all memories and history that they had gathered and remained from before the dragon’s wrath, gone, in one afternoon.

Everyone will get their fair chance. You will all have your chance to own your own plots of land and build upon them the houses you desire. But it will all be based on your merits. The fruits of your labor. The harder you work, the more you will be able to build. The more you prove your worth, the more you will earn. I expect that we will see no one unworthy. You have the chance to pull yourselves up by your own bootstraps. We will build something beautiful, worthy of the castles you’ve built us. As long as we approve of it and as long as you provide us with the quotas for those of us who hold the share of the gold, everyone will thrive as the wealth will spill over to everyone, was the speech dragons spread across the world, before taking flight and sleeping on their piles of gold in their giant castles and mountain lairs.

Part III will arrive soon…

A Note of Death An Unofficially Unlicensed Short Story

Hey, Ry. Is that what we should call you now? Ry? asks G. Yes. And I shall call you G from now on. I find it rather fascinating and though a bit confusing, yet fascinating, says Ry. Why do I get a letter but you get two now? asks G. R sounds boring, Ry sounds more mysterious. I like it more, says Ry. Say, Ry, have you ever thought of diversifying the places you visit? asks G. What do you mean? asks Ry. Have you tried the old continents? asks G. Hmm… Never really thought of it much. Used to have a lot of fun there a hundred years ago or so. Brilliant idea, G. I shall bring you a golden apple or maybe one of those green ones, says Ry as he takes off. Did you really have to do that? You know what may be waiting for him, says De. Oh look at you, two letter brothers holding out for each other, says G as he too takes his leave. You know you can simply not play the game if you do not like it, G, says De.

Some months later…

Tsk, he says as he leaves. With a frown on his face he looks down at the ground and in front of him a booklet seems to appear. The black cover, the text on it seems unreal. Pick it up, a voice commands him. As he leans down he sees the weird text and picks it up. Opening the notebook he sees a bunch of rules written down. He starts to flip through the book as he sees torn pages, names, Japanese writing he does not understand, some ripped pages. Well, what do you think? asks Ry as he stands in front of him. He looks up to see those wicked eyes, those long arms, the weird wings, and a smile to not be forgotten. Is any of this real or did I finally lose it? he asks. Why aren’t you freaked out? Usually people do not find my particular style appealing, says Ry. I don’t have an answer for you that won’t sound depressing, so let’s just say I’ve seen some stuff, he responds. So, what does a failed… Everything… Have in mind with that notebook? I have been watching you for a while clicking your tongue at this and that. You are rather fascinating. Smart enough to know when someone or something is wrong, but not smart enough to know how to use it to gain the power you seek, says Ry. So you are giving me a chance at wish fulfillment with this, is what you are saying, he responds. Clever, knew you’d understand. Yes, that is exactly what I am giving you. Now give me a show, I can see the gears turning inside that pretty little head of yours. It’s all I can ask for. Well, that and apples, says Ry. We’ve got a deal, he says as he rips an empty page from the notebook and stuffs it in his pocket.

I have some questions, he says to Ry. Can’t you simply use it and find out exactly what it does? asks Ry. Do you want a show or a whimper? he retorted. Fine, but you better give me something great in return, says Ry. Does anyone else have this type of notebook right now, right here on this planet? he asks. Not that I know off. Right now it’s only me, says Ry. You know, I heard about this notebook. It was all over the news here too when things went down in Japan. That must have been a fun time for you, he says. Mmm, yes. So it was, says Ry. I have a question about you. What are you? A god of death? You look different from the gods I read about. And what are you powers? Can you see my lifespan? Can you kill me? Or do you just observe? he asks. Yes, you could call me that. And let’s just say I can do lots of interesting things, responds Ry. So, I’ll take all that as a yes. Good, let’s get you some apples and let me buy some stuff to test what writing is, he says. Aren’t you ever going to ask me for my name? asks Ry. Why? I’ll make history, you’ll have your show and besides, you’ll be gone soon either way, he responds. So quite a grand plan you must be having to be done with this so soon, says Ry. Well, if what I think works, then yeah. It’ll be short, but it’ll be a blast, he says smirking.

Here are your apples. Bought a few kilos, hope they’ll keep you satiated for a while, he says as he sits down at his desk. What’s that weird glossy paper for? asks Ry. You see, with this paper you can write on it, put it over another piece of paper and it will nicely copy everything from one to the other, he explains. Oh, now that’s impressive, says Ry. You see, when things were happening over there I always thought he was inefficient. Of course you are going to get caught with pinpoint precision if your scope is that shallow. But then again, he was a teenager. Maybe if he had time to mature a little his scope would’ve broaden. That’s why I promised you a big show with a loud bang, but with a quick sendoff, he explains. Well consider me intrigued, says Ry as he bites an apple in half. He takes a pen, writes down a name and presses then the paper to the notebook. Oh, an actor. That’s very brave of you as a first death to note down, says Ry. Well, I have to see if it works quickly, he responds as he opens Twitter. Interesting strategy. Glad to have picked you, says Ry. That’s high praise. Thank you, he responds as the name of the person pops up and is trending a few minutes later. Bingo! Now onto the next test, he says with pride.

What’s that? asks Ry. A printer. But more specifically an ink printer. So, let’s see if this works, he says as he prints on that thin paper and then applies it to the notebook. This is what you meant to test what writing is, says Ry. Exactly. And if this works, we’re going to be doing this tonight and when the sun will shine, tomorrow morning, you’ll probably be leaving me with a changed world, he responds. As he finishes that sentence that name starts to trend as well. Perfect, he says. So what now? asks Ry. Now I am going to get a VPN, setup a virtual machine, start an excel sheet. And then write the name of every politician, every criminal that is known right now to have caused death or any harm to people and that is pushing and marginalizing large groups of people. But, they are going to be randomized on each type of this page and then put down in this notebook. And when the sun rises, we’ll have thousands of criminals dead. Not that I’ll know what will happen afterwards. Not that I’ll know how the world will react to it all. Not that I know if this will change anything for the better. But sure as hell this will send a message out there and some form of wicked justice will prevail for now, he says. You know, you could do this over and over again, if you wished so, says Ry. No, once is enough. I just might kill the wrong person or dig myself into a hole. I don’t want that. I want to see what effect this will do, if any. If there are other dictators to rise out of this situation, if the people do not take charge of this opportunity, then there is truly no hope for us as a species, he says.

After a long night, the skies slowly start to lighten up. So, are you ready god of death? he asks with a bunch of freshly printed papers ready to press them down in the notebook. As ready as I’ll ever be, says Ry with a devilish smile on his face. Well, after testing how many names on a page will work, I think this will be smooth sailing, he says while laughing after turning on the TV on a news channel to see the chaos unfold in real time with Twitter also opened on his monitor. Slowly but surely the news starts to come out that dictators, government officials, police officers, prime-ministers, oligarchs, corrupt news show presenters and every type of other criminal starts dying. One after another, the news cycle and the internet can’t keep track of the many deaths that are occurring. Whether it’s accidents or suicides, it seems chaos is completely taking over the world. Ry starts laughing. Incredible. You are truly incredible. So much death. So much confusion. Oh to think someone could pull all of this off, says Ry enthusiastically. Well, here you go, he says after scribbling on the piece of paper he ripped out from the notebook. What? asks Ry. I promised you a show. You got a show. Here’s your notebook. I have to burn this papers together with my laptop and printer. Enjoy the chaos, he says. Ry remains baffled at everything that is happening. As he throws the papers into the fire, together with it is the paper from the notebook which states that he should die 15 minutes before his lifespan is to end in sleep.

Hope you liked this longer short story based on a popular story for which I do not have the rights to, which is why I changed names and never really named anyone directly from that series. But Shueisha, if you wanna do a collab on this, I’d love it. Because I can easily expand this story in a manga format, if you can borrow me some talent that can draw. I wanted to write this because I had this idea while thinking what I’d do, if I had that coveted notebook and it seemed like a cool idea that remains very open ended in a way.

JACK - ANTHOLOGY OF A YOUNG WIZARD 18: Misery's Run

Let me go! Cristina says in an exasperated manner to the man. You are mine! he replies. Then marry me, you coward! Or is it that you only thirst for what you can’t have? asks Cristina. Aye, there’s nothing but your fucking flower between these legs that you can offer to this wretched world, replies the man. Look at you, fine fellow, sinning. May you burn in hell! says Cristina. I’ll gladly make you wait for me there, the man says followed by a thud. My legs are frozen in place, I can’t move. Fuck! I hear the man speak. Silence poisons the air around me as a million thoughts run through my head. Fuck, I tell myself as I start running in the opposite direction of where the two were. Why? Why did it have to happen? I ask myself. The more I run, the more familiar the setting becomes. I can’t understand this, I tell myself as I begin to slow down. What is it with this place and murders? I ask myself as I stop running. The clouded sky covers the moon turning the streets dark. I once more create flame in the darkness to see where I am. Trying to find my way towards Stephen’s Inn. A thought asking me why did I run popped into my head. The answer to which, I had none. Yet a jolt of fear struck my heart as I slowly made my way towards the inn. After an hour of wandering, I can finally see the inn and as my whole heart feels a little bit lighter.

I open the door to see Arcus, alone, drinking. Evening, I say. Arcus jolts up then turns with a defeated look on his face towards me. What do you want? he asks. To go sleep, I respond. Why here? Couldn’t you go anywhere else? he drunkenly asks. I do not know any other place to sleep, I respond. Why don’t ya sleep outside with the dogs… Or better… In the river with them fishes… says Arcus. That’d be uncomfortable, I snarkily respond. Yer right, probably, responds Arcus. Can I go now? I ask. Why does Stephen not listen? If he listened, he would have been doing so much better. But he always have to do whatever he feels is right, he stumbles in his words. You mean ha… I try to correct him before getting interrupted. Did you know he had a wife? No. You did not know that. How could you. You devilish wizard. Or maybe you knew. Of course you knew with yer magic and thoughts and stuff. Then I guess you knew she died. Childbirth. It was simply monstrous. The baby came out hanged and blue faced as she died. I pitied Stephen, such a tragedy… says Arcus. I am sorry to hear that, I respond. Of course yer sorry. Anyone would be. Even the devil’s spawn can’t shed a tear to such tragedy. Let me tell you something wizard. Whatever you came here looking for, good luck finding it. But pray that it doesn’t find you first… An unsettling silence sets after what Arcus just said. Here… Take these keys. Do whatever. See you never, says Arcus as he throws me the keys and leaves. I hate today, I tell myself before throwing myself in the bed and falling asleep instantly.

A much needed sleep, a much needed silent morning with the sweet chirping of birds gracing me with their voice. I either slept through people going to wherever they need going in the morning, or I woke up too early for noise to be a problem yet, I tell myself as I look at the bright blue sky. As I get up from my bed, I go to get dressed and get down for breakfast. Expecting Stephen to greet me with a big smile I go down the stairs yet there’s no one. It is dead quiet. Stephen? I shout. No answer. Maybe he is out and about, yet I do not see Arcus either around, I tell myself. Should I wait? Or should I find another place to eat? I ask myself. I should eat and leave him the money for the food and for the night after, I convince myself as my stomach feels like its chewing me out already. As I find myself some bread, some meats and a bit of cheese, another intrusive thought goes through my head asking if what I am doing is wrong. I take a kettle, add some water to it and start boiling it for a cup of tea. But at the same time another thought asks me if it is really wrong if I am paying for what I am consuming. I take my plate, set it on the table and sit in silence. As I sit, I can’t help but look at the light shinning through the window. I take a deep breath and start eating. A shadow appears before the window as the kettle starts whistling. As I raise my head, I see the Sheriff. This can’t be happening…

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JACK - ANTHOLOGY OF A YOUNG WIZARD 17: Lost in Death and Misery

If he confessed to his crimes, then we have nothing else to do but to take him to Newgate, says the Sheriff. I have not confessed to anything! I won’t go! You can’t take me from this church! Thomas protests. We can, and we will, says the Sheriff. Not if father here will grant me sanctuary, says Thomas. Father? asks the Sheriff. Please, I will do anything to repent and please, please, please, Thomas begs. I have a bad feeling about this. Fine, says the Priest. Thomas starts laughing. I was not done. You have only a day. You must pray, fast and do a confessional. If you do not or will not. I will hand you over to the Sheriff, says the Priest. I will, I will, I will, says Thomas on his knees. Get me a watchman or two to stay guard for a day here. He must not leave this place, says the Sheriff. Now I really do have a bad feeling about all of this, I slip my tongue as the Sheriff gave the order. I almost forgot. Please send word to that mob of people to inform them of the reality of the situation, says the Sheriff. Thank you, I tell the Sheriff. How do you always find yourself in these situations? asks the Sheriff. I don’t know. I just wanted to eat some lunch and go get my stuff from the inn. I never expected any of this to happen, I explain. You need to stop hanging out with a cutpurse and find better people to be around, says the Sheriff. Please reference me to someone that is a better people, I respond.

You asked for me? asks a Watchman. Yes, there will be another one coming to change with you around morning. Or do you wish to come in tomorrow morning since you have worked already? asks the Sheriff. I would prefer it that way, yes, says the Watchman. Okay, good. That’s settled than, see you tomorrow around this time of the day, says the Sheriff. The watchman leaves. So, Wizard, I will have to think of someone. Next time we meet, I might recommend you someone. And assuming on your good luck, we might just meet very soon, says the Sheriff. Does that mean that I may leave? I ask. Yes. I assume you’ll be at Stephen’s inn, right? asks the Sheriff. Yes, that is where I will reside, at least for now, I explain as I take my leave. Good, I’ll know where to look for you, says the Sheriff. Let’s hope you won’t need to find me soon enough, I whisper as I close the door to the church. As I move down the street, I enter the intersection where the people were gathered previously. A coroner and a couple of watchman pick the body of the dead man up in order to load in in a carriage and take it away. As I make a left, leaving that horrid place behind, I start to ponder about everything that has happened until now. If there are lessons to be learned here, I do not really know what they are. I mostly feel a victim of fate. Imprisoned, shamed, death stitched tot he back of my eyes, and no mere break from horror, I speak to myself as I get lost.

I don’t know how I did not get lost until now. Everything looks almost the same as everything else, unless it’s a tavern, church or someone important with an imposing house. It all starts to feel like a maze. I can’t even see where the river flows through. Or maybe I am too far from the riverside? I ask as I aimlessly roam the streets trying to find my way towards Stephen’s Inn. I should have paid more attention to my surroundings instead of letting myself get way into my own head, I tell myself as more and more noise is made around me. I raise my head to look around. I see people leaving as they chat about their day and the sun sets. As I take a few more steps forward, a giant building graces itself in the last few rays of sunlight. The murmur of the people now gone, I am left alone in this little square of London looking at this building simply wondering what it is. I hear a man and a woman chat at the corner of the building. Cristina, let us spend the night together. I have lodgings for the night, I hear the man say. I could not. It is Sunday. I am still young. I do not want to go against my mother’s wishes and ruin this. So you either marry me or I am leaving, she says. Come on, dear. There’s no need for that, yet, says the man. Then we can’t spend the night, she says. Where do you think you are going? he asks. Home. Now let my arm be or I will make a hue, she says. You whore! You wench! You dare sleep with others, but not with me? he says. Let me be! she insists. I’ll let you rot in hell, says the man…

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Hood: A Dead Man Walking - The Pilot Program 2022

A gunshot is echoing in the warehouse. Silence… Then a scream of a man followed by even more gunshots. Where is he? Don’t let him escape! screams a burly man. You must be mad to get yourself in this warehouse alone with us, says a tall man with a beard and a gun in his hand. The lights go out, a man starts screaming. The two start shooting. They see a shadow. The tall man follows the shadow with his gun shooting at him. Without realizing, the tall man shoots the burly man. As the burly man falls, from behind him jumps the man in the hood onto the tall man, throwing him on the ground and disarming him. Who are you? asks the tall man. They say justice is… Blind… But I’m not justice. I’m vengeance… With bloody fists, a heavy breath and a dozen man downed, the man in the hood said as he walked away from the warehouse with police sirens getting closer and closer. Log 045. The warehouse by the docks was a bust. Only drugs and small arms, nothing related to the location of Death’s Head. The info we got last week was correct, yet it was not what I was looking for. Note to self, find better informants, says the hooded man as he closes his audio log and gets on his bike. Years in the fucking FBI and all I could get was this lousy informant and a warehouse full of drugs when that mad man is killing thousands and gaining power by the minute, the hooded man thinks to himself as he drives home.

Morning, Craig. What happened to your hands? asks John. Well, you know sparring, training and I blew off some steam, says Craig. Looks like you blew out a fuse not just some steam, don’t you ever take a break? asks John as he leans on the desk. This is me taking a break, says Craig jokingly. By the way, have you heard about the news? It seems a lunatic in a hood went in Death’s Head’s warehouse, beat up like fifteen guys, then called the police on the whole operation. James and Chuck are down there right now taking on this case, says John. Man in a hood, huh? says Craig as he touches his bruised knuckles. Craig, I have something for you, says Arthur. This is my cue to leave, says John. Here, says Arthur as he hands me a folder. Craig opens the folder and starts looking through it. What am I supposed to do with all this information? asks Craig. That’s exactly your job now. We must find a way to find the fuckers that planted those bombs in the subway stations. You have there locations, firms, names, addresses and we need to get a lead on this. Any lead, honestly, says Arthur. What the rest of the squad doing? asks Craig. They’re still interviewing people from the scenes. Workers, people in the vicinity, cameras, forums, the usual, says Arthur. Why me? asks Craig. You always had a broader perspective and we might need that, if we’re to find who’s behind this, says Arthur. Understood. Thank you and I’ll get on it, says Craig.

Ten thousand dead and many more injured as the major New York subway stations were targeted with bombs by a terrorist attack. Black smoke from the underground is pouring into the surface as police try to evacuate the zone and first responders prepare to go down. We go down to our live correspondent… Craig… Craig… John pulls on Craig as he thinks back on what happened in early February. What? Sorry, I was thinking, says Craig. Can you believe it? James let those fuckers down at the docks go. It seems they had contracts that stated that they shouldn’t go inside the warehouse unless it was an emergency, so technically they weren’t involved in the drugs that were handled there, says John. That sounds like fucking bullshit to me, says Craig. And guess who I have to go after? The hood, says John. What? asks Craig as he touches his knuckles. Yeah, it seems they deem the hood worse than literal fucking henchmen for a drug and arms dealer, says John. Motherfucker… says Craig as he gets up from his desk and leaves. Where are you going? asks John. I have something to do, says Craig. As Craig gets to the parking lot, he opens the compartment of his bike, takes out the bloody hood, changes into it and leaves. James, you corrupt piece of fucking shit. You wanna throw down? I’ll be there to take you and your whole operation down by force, says Hood.

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