Casting Shadows

"Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster...for when you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you." ~FWN

So let's talk about how it's been staring into the abyss that is VRchat and the current state of the online world. 
It sums up pretty strait forward by my experience in the Pool Parlor world.  
My first visit I went in sight un seen after having played on some VR pool tables that were in other worlds.  I stroll up to a table where the game was nearing it's end and I'm like "yo, how do I throw my quarters on the table to call next game."  This kid,
I say kid because anyone under 25 qualifies as a kid to me from my current age. 
Nothing against them or their experiences or their maturity it's just a professional consideration having been in the education profession in some capacity my entire adult life and most of my teen life. 
So this kid gets up in my face acting the fool thinking I was coming over to talk to the girl he was with or whatever. I just thought to myself, fuck this, and went back to my normal world hopping and listening to my podcasts. 
Then I was like....hold up "Aren't I supposed to be the adult here?  The Librarian?  The Educator?  The Example?"  So I started talking to people, trying to stick to mostly age verified instances to avoid kids until I could gauge the adults floating around. 
And I'll tell ya man.  
People in my age range, are few and far between.  
Probably because of the stigma that's always been placed on gaming and gamers. And probably because of the Stigma placed on the queer community in any setting so that anyone like myself.  Over 30, dates men and women, and has next to zero filter once people get to know me makes folks uncomfortable.  
The "Red Pill" "Mansosphere types"  because the kids and women that I treat with the same respect I would an adult see the difference and stop putting up with their bullshit. And kids, the wise ones anyways either steering clear of anyone that classifies as a legal adult and/or,  And these are the kids I tend to talk to, the ones trying to sus out if they need to call Chris Hanson or not.  
'cause let's be real man. 
Chris Hanson and his crew does need to be floating around in those worlds to put the fear of god into the actual groomers and "red pill chuds" calling abuse friendship and un reported assault moral superiority.  
My second visit in the pool world went very differently. 
I'd been hanging in a bar instance, listening to conversation, shooting pool and chit chatting with anyone that came over to play.  Had over heard a kid who was turning 21 being given advice on "how to get black out drunk" by someone a couple years older than that and I chimed in "Yo, not the best idea.  Isn't healthy, isn't safe.  Usually when you're drinking you want to avoid that kind of thing.  Especilly if you're alone in your room with a VR headset on.  Thats a recepie for passing out and choaking to death on your own vomit." 
Eventually an older lady, someone near my age comes over and says hi. Shoots some pool and invites me to the pool world and shows me the tournament room.  We play, some other folks come in.  I'm just vibing, knocking the balls around trying to get a read on these people. They talk about their time doing psychedelics and that kind of thing and I just stay quiet.  I have nothing to add and eventually call it a night. 
My next visit I head to the tournament room to play in relative quiet, get used to playing in VR with the more realistic physics the tables have to offer in the Parlor world and mess with different que and table settings. Eventually a couple of the people I had played with drift in and we shoot the shit until a minor shows up.  
I'm like, well shit.  Hopefully they're not just here to yell slurs and cause nonsense like a lot of kids do, immitating the adults in their life.  But na, the kid was quiet, respectful and I said hey "We've got 4 here, let's play teams.  The other adults run for their lives because they're terrified of being around a kid apparently.   Which, considering the "red pill" behavior of a lot of people.  Including the way I was treated when I first showed up.  Streamers trying to rage bait and having their fans following me around and harassing me because they thought they'd scare me off I could understand it.  
But that's the thing man.  
Growing up queer in the 90s.  Some online shit stains with an "Alpha" complex or whatever bullshit thing the mansosphere has cooked up nowadays don't really bother me.  In fact, being in VR has taught me some.. patience.  Not being able to fall back to physical defenses I was used to when I was younger and actually having to engage verbally with them.   Mind, it never really goes well the way I tend to mirror back the energy directed at me, but it is what it is. 
So I shot a few games with the kid, told em to be safe and to exercise stranger danger around adults, gave them a few pointers I'd learned over the years,  and keep up the practice,  'cause they seemed like they had some skill. 
And that was when I realized how toxic gaming culture has really become the norm over the past couple of decades and you people like myself really have to exmplify the change we want to see. 
The kids floating around need adults to show them healthy examples of safe adults they can interact with. 
And so I've been making friends again after nuking the friends list and changing the screen name. 
This time though being pretty damned selective about who I allow onto that list. 
Yeah. 
It's skewed largely to younger women.  Mostly because I give everyone the benefit of the doubt but when they start using the "Hard R" throwing around bigots' talk or start using Retard out of hand I just remove them from the list.  Which, as I've been saying, gets rid of a lot of strait dudes.  And even some queer dudes that I thought were chill in the beginning. 
I'd much prefer to find people within my age group that I can get along with.  But gamers my age are rare.  Even more so when I maintain the boundaries about who I'm willing to talk and hang with.  
Kind of like the other day.   Got an invite from a person that had friended me.  
See, that's the other thing.  
I don't send out friend invites anymore.  I accept them from people that seem like they're offering it in good faith when we meet in a chat world or a game world that promotes conversation, but I don't send 'em.  'cause I"m not going to be that older dude sending a bunch of people half my age friend invites.  
Then, if someone on the list invites me to hang out I go and spend an hour or two with them to vibe check and see if the initial conversation was just a best foot forward situation or if they really are on the up and up. 
So I found myself exploring a couple of horror worlds with these kids. Kind of like haunted houses with some game elements to them.  They were pretty neat and I saved em to take some other horror fans into if/when the time is right.  One of the kids drifted off and it came time for me to open up a scheduled thing for the Role Playing group I've found myself hosting in the past few months and the other kid tagged along. 
And it was sitting there, watching this horror movie that I was like, man.  
this kid felt safe enough to come to instance, not a private one mind, and hang with me while I waited to see if any folks interested in making characters or joining later games showed up. 
And I was like "This is how those guys do it, isn't it?  But instead of scheduled events and waiting for other people, they create their private instances and start the nefarious nonsense. 
I also realized.  If kids going through it, or looking for someone safe to talk to about it to try and get out of a shit situation I'm going to have to place myself in those situations. 
That's the funny part too. 
The next day.  
That same kid ended up joinig me fishing.  And brought along a diffrent friend.  
Someone claiming to be part of the Law Enforcement.  And there was an initial moment where were sussing each other out when I finally broke the ice by asking if they were there in a personal or professional capacity and reminding them that Mandatory reporters are mandatory reporters no matter where they are.  And we all went fishing.  
Not the type of folks I'm looking to make friends with, but I do like to be aware of other people.  Other adults, out there being role models instead of predators. 
And, you know, who to point the kids too if they're in they're having serious issues. 
So yep.  
Still at it.
Keeping up with the younger folk out in the worlds, providing safe spaces for the ones going through it to be able to talking things out if they need to, and trying to find people in my own age group that I can vibe with on a more personal level. 
I get why people didn't trust me in the start.  
I wouldn't either if I didn't know me or I didn't come with references. 
But, slowly but surely the community is coming together. 
They're starting to see that I'm modeling the change that people want to see in online spaces. 
And yep, looking for folks to pass the torch too. 
Which, as it stands, is mostly young women. 
Because...well...unfortunately. In the modern online climate they're the only ones that understand the dangers and pit falls of the mansosphere culture.  But, fortunately, for them and those that will come after them. They're hope, and drive, for creating a better, safer, and kinder world hasn't been extinguished yet. 
The only struggle now, is to get older people to be hopeful again and stop writing these young people off as a lost cause.  
'cause I'm telling you dude.  
When we're old...older than I am now, and loosing the mental and physical capacities to be self sufficient how we've treated them will directly effect how they treat us. And more importantly, how they'll treat the people they'll need to pass the torches too. 
But that's the change we're trying to affect. 
To quite some of these loud, overpowering voices, used to shouting down and blaming smaller, more vulnerable, communities for the things they are actually guilty of doing. 
You know. 
Like when you look into the people in the Epstine files.  See how they spoke in public v.s. what they were doing in private.  Watching how they used their leverage to stomp out these smaller communities that wouldn't let them in to affect their abuse on them.  
The same way the Blank Panthers were classified as domestic terrorists while the Klan and other such groups were said to "only be defending their freedom of speech' and what ever other twisting of the constitution they could use to justify their actions. 
much the way the current administration is doing to news organizations and activists groups that call out the actual war crimes and civil rights violations they're committing. 



"To light a candle is to cast a shadow." U.K.L. 

Myth's and Legends

 "Jack....You've been quite again.  What's up?"
"Composing and planning." 
"Which project this time?" 
"..."
"Is that?"
"Yeah."
"I thought you'd forgotten about that."
"Na, just getting the timeline right." 


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


- Vietnam 1968 -
Crisp uniform, shiny boots, the Lieutenant blustered over to the Clerks’ desk. “Boy! I need a jeep and a driver.” The Clerk looked up from the newspaper he was reading with a bored look. “Pronto.” The Lieutenant added, punctuating with a heavy finger pulling the paper down to the desk.”
“Number 10’s available, sign here.” The clerk said, sliding a clipboard across the desk and flipping the paper back up.
“And my driver?”
Out of the back office stepped the Motor Pool Sergeant. “I’ll take this one Corporal.” the Sargent said, taking a helmet from its place hanging on the wall and shrugging into a flak jacket. 
“That’s not uniform standards, Sargent.  When we get back I expect you to remedy that situation.   Am I understood?”  The sergeant slung a rifle over his shoulder and gave a half hearted salute.
“Whatever you say there boss man.” The Sargent said heading out the door and down the line of jeeps.  He hopped into the seat, checked the play on the wheel and peddles then fired it up.  The Lieutenant crawled into the backseat as the engine came to life. “Where are we headed?” The Sargent asked, securing the rifle so it wouldn’t bounce around.
“Saigon, Quick as you can.”
“Sir, Saigon is a hot zone. I ain’t drivin’ in there without an official order and a full platoon at my back.”   The Sargent’s hand froze half way to the ignition switch as the cold steel of the Lieutenant's side arm pressed against the back of his head.”
“That IS an order.” The Lieutenant said, punctuating the statement with the cock of his hammer. “Now drive boy.”


-2 hours later-
The Sargent blinked trying to focus his vision, his hand came away from his head sticky with blood. 
“Damn Fab driving there bloke.  But what mad reason did you have driving into this city like you were on a drive in the country?”  Hands attached to the voice were pulling him across the ground under his arms.  The Sargent was vaguely aware of the smell of damp earth, and even though they moved into the shade it still felt like a swamp.
“Cracker ass mother fucker.”  The Sargent said, his eyes starting to focus and adjust to the relative darkness.
“You mean that mess of guts that was in your backseat.  You yanks are bloody insane.”
“Not my choice.”  The Sargent said. 
“Looks like we’re buddies here until things settle down.  Care for some tea?”


-1 Week later-
Reporters crowded the tent, surrounding the Young Doctor as he looked over the Sargent’s chart. “Dr. Wayne.  Why aren’t you back in the states?”
“My country called, I answered.” 
“And a man of your status is fine with treating Negros?” Another reporter asked.
“I treat patients.  The color of their skin doesn’t matter while they’re under my care.”
“Would you treat Charlie?” Yet another reporter asked.
“The Hippocratic oath applies to anyone that comes through those doors.”
Yet another reporter interjected. “Any substance to the rumors that British Intelligence is in the Area.
The soldier in the next bed rolled over onto their side.
“Can’t say I know much about that.” The young Doctor replied.



-Gotham 1986-
“Your tea Mum.” 
“Oh, Alfie.  It seems the Good Doctor and I are going out for dinner this evening and I wouldn’t want to ruin the young Master's appetite with a snack so soon after Lunch.” The socialite said, tossing her tightly curled locks over her shoulder and giving a small wink to the Butler.  “Do be a dear and swing by the stables to make sure Royce is ready to go around 5ish.
“As you say Mum.”   The butler made a smart turn in his tail coat and made his way across the estate and out to the stables.  Classic cruisers to the latest sports cars lined the garage.  Under the hood of one towards the end of a mechanic was performing an inspection. The Butler moved up on quiet feet “Sargent Fox.”
The mechanic's head hit the hood of the car.  “Jeezus, you’re like a ghost.”
The barest hint of a smile crossed the Butlers’ face as he watched the Mechanic straighten up and wipe sweat from his brow. “Dorthy says the royce should be ready to go by 5.”
The Mechanic's eyes widened in surprise then narrowed conspiratorially as he wiped grease from his hands. “I see Ms. Gale sent tea?”
“Indeed Sargent.”


-Gotham 1991-
The Butler kicked in the door to the lounge.  The Doctor and his Wife looked startled by the usually austere man moved towards the pool table, disheveled and smeared with blood. 
“What’s the meaning of this?” The Doctor asked as the Butler gently laid the person clad in black combat gear, a golden bat emblazoned across the tattered chest plate.  The Doctor moved over to get a closer look. “This man is a criminal!  And you bring him here!?!?”
The Butler pulled the mask off of the man’s face, the Doctor’s wife gasped. “Oh no…”
“He’s alive.” the Butler said, looking up at the doctor, tears welling at the corners of his eyes. “I can’t lose him.”
“Martha, get my bag.”  the Doctor said rolling up his sleeves.


-Gotham 1993 -
The detective looked at the young boy wrapped in the oversized blanket looking so small before turning back to the Butler.  “Paper Work says you and a Mr. Fox are his legal guardians in the event of a tragedy, is that right?”
“Yes sir.” Butler said, sad eyes watching the social worker try to coax the fragile child into speech.
“And the report says you were parked around the front of the theater?”
“Yes sir.  Can I see B…Young Master Bruce now?”
“Just a couple more questions.” The Detective said, studying the man’s face.
“Where was Mr. Fox this evening?”
“At his office.”
“At Wayne Enterprises?  What does he do there?”
“Research and Development he’s a very talented engineer.”
The Detectives eyebrow raised at the way Butler's tone lightened at the, almost absently, added detail. “And how long have you worked for Mr. Wayne?”
“20 years now.” 
The side door of the interrogation room opened and a well dressed middle aged man entered.  The Detective watched as the boy ran into his arms and clung to him, he turned his attention back to the Butler and caught a single tear running down his cheek.
“Let's finish this paperwork so you can take him home.


-England 1995-
“Why can’t I stay?  I can help!” The young man said from the back seat.
“You need your education, Young Master.” the butler said, eyeing him through the review mirror. “Do you not want to go to the school where Alfred and your Father met?” Mr. Fox said from his seat next to the boy.
“Yes…” The boy started
“Good.” Mr. Fox said interrupting.   “We’ll keep the house together while you’re at school.” 
“I know it’s because you’re the B…” The boy was cut off as the car lurched and the pair in the back was forced to catch himself against the back of the seat in front of him.
“They need to keep better track of their cat’s here.” the Butler said, turning in his seat and looking levelly at the young man.
The young man looked back and forth between the two men he had come to think of as his fathers. “Is this one of those ‘Don’t let the crackers see you cry’ things?”
The Butler's head snapped back forward trying to hide a smile. “The hell did you hear that?” Mr. Fox said, arching an eyebrow at the back of the Butlers’ head.
“Alfred said it when you guys were dancing the other night.”
“Let’s hope the school curbs your penchant for sneaking about while you’re here.” Mr. Fox said

Why you asking all these questions?

 "Jack folks have some questions about the languages you're choosing for the book."
"What about 'em."
"It's a fantasy setting right?"
"Meh."
"What does 'Meh' mean?"
"It means you'll have to wait and see."
"Okay...then why not use fantasy languages?"
"Because I like learning languages and if this thing blows up I want people to learn actual languages instead of some shit a white dude made up."
"Okay?  Then why the specific languages?"
"Because they are tied to where I came from, people I know, they reflect the resilience of people who's cultures 'history' tried to erase." 
"Players are saying the languages you've revealed so far are...am I getting this right? 
Tagalog
Cantonese
and Dine?   What is that?
"Dine` is the language of the Navajo nation."
"And you're using that for a people that live in tree towns?" 
"Yeah."
"Wait?  What?  I thought they're from the Southwest, aren't you from the the Kansas/Oklahoma area?  Neither of those places have anything with living in trees."
"As you said, it's a fantasy book and if fans, role players, cosplayers, want to play the characters they can learn the languages keeping them alive, then if they really want to learn the languages they can find the living people to teach them and learn their history through the stories." 
"And the trees thing?" 
"Like you said, it's a 'fantasy' novel'"
"So it's not a fantasy story?"
"...."
"Why won't you say."
"Because no ones' gone into the Temple yet."
"The temple?" 
"Yeah.  I've ran this scenario in five...six...different campaigns so far and either because the parties decided to go different directions, didn't survive the initial encounters because of hubris, or got bored building out their backgrounds the haven't cleared the temple yet."
"Why would they get board building out their backgrounds." 
" 'cause some people just want to roll dice and kill monsters and that's not what the game is about."
"But there are monsters, like Minotaur and giant scorpions?  Sounds kind a Greek  ?"
"Yeah."
"But it's not a fantasy story and they speak languages from places completely removed from one another in a place that has high technology alongside high fantasy"
"...."
"You're not as clever as you think you know."
"I know, but doesn't mean I have to make it easy." 
"So you didn't stop running the game then?"
"As long as the players show up during the scheduled hours I'll run the game."
"What about the new players.  They don't like starting at 1st level when there's already level 5 characters running around."
"Do the background work and they can level up.  Same as the other players."
"What does the background work have to do with leveling up in the game?" 
"Because the ending is already written, it's just a matter of getting there and I want to know what they want their characters are going to be in the 'final battle'.  The foundations for those skills, abilities, and what not are established in the background so that during the story it feels more like they 'knew' how to do these things but they never had to do it under pressure before.   That's where the leveling comes form.  Like coal being compressed into a diamond."
"But you've been ignoring people that have showed up when you're sitting in the worlds on game nights."
"...."
"Aren't you looking for more players?" 
"They haven't answered the question."
"What question?"
"...."
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like I smell bad." 
"Catch me during officer hours and ask again."
"Wait where are you going?"
"To work." 

Tears From Heaven

 "How you doing over there Jack?"
"Not good man."
"What's up?  You just booted a bunch of people and look like you're going nonverbal again."
"Yeah." 
"Got played again didn't ya."
"Yeah."
"You knew it was too good to be true when someone asked you out of the blue."
"Yeah."
"But you went along with it anyways."
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"...."
"What are you pointing at?"
"...."
"Someone else ripping off your ideas?"
"Yeah."
"You sure they are."
"Yeah."
"How can you be sure?"
"Timing."
"You thought friends were doing something nice for your birthday didn't you?"
"Yeah."
"That's why you hate your birthday isn't it?"
"Yeah."
"Because it's always about everyone else and what they can get out of the party?"
"Yeah."
"Are you going to finish the story?"
"It's already done."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah."
"But you don't have a script and the manuscript isn't done yet."
"That's the easy part."
"Then why are you giving up."
"....."
"You're pointing again."
"...."
"Oh...I see.  You think because they already have millions in kick starter money and teams of artists and social media people that it's not worth finishing the manuscript." 
"Yeah."
"So why did you go along if you knew it was a setup?"
"Because..."
"Because why?"
"Because I wanted to finish the story." 
"And it's finished?"
"Yeah."
"Is there anything left to do?"
"Math."
"Math?"
"Yeah."
"What Math?"
"How long."
"How long what?"
"How long the ship traveled."
"What ship?"
"...."
"You're not going to say are you?"
"No."
"Why not work with the people that seem to be doing it already?  It would be easier that way."
"Because they're white."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"To many white stories.  I don't want to tell white stories.  White people have to many stories already." 
"You don't trust white people?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"...."
"You're pointing again."
"...."
"That's 'Gone with the Wind.'" 
"Yeah."
"Is that why you're struggling to find a team."
"Yeah."
"Because you don't want to work with White people."
"yeah."
"You're going to have to."
"...."
"Why are you grinning like that." 
"...."
"Stop that, you're weirding me out." 
"...."
"What?"
"White people are the bad guys."
"Is that the big reveal."
"No.  That's pretty obvious."
"So what's the big reveal?"
"...."
"Come on, tell."
"Pay me."
"Damn it."
"Yeah."

Pride and Destiny

Dear Sony, 

As you know 
Destiny 2 is ending.  

Destiny. 
Because of mismanagement on both sides of the line, Destiny 3 is no where to be seen. 
The community wants to rally in one week. 
Reset day. 
Arguably the final reset day. 
I find myself lacking the F.O.M.O. to join.  

I started my journey in Destiny solo.  
Playing catch up to friends.  Only to catch up and find out they were not the people I thought they were.  
So I moved on, went back to work, played other games. 
Destiny 2 came along and I started that journey with people that I thought were my friends. 
But here I am 9 years later and they too were not the people I thought they were. 
So I played solo, checking in with people from time to time trying to build a team to run the hard stuff. To compete in the raid races. 
To explore the universe with. 
And they, too, were not the people I thought they were. 
Then during the Pandemic I was approached by a random person one day.  
Someone that had a Lore based clan.  
That was rare. 
Clans being groups and teams with specific goals and purposes. 
Their goal was to get A title. 
Curse breaker.  

I said.  
"I'll help with that, but if I do. I want to build a team to do that kind of thing on the regular.  A team that helps people where others wouldn't. A non toxic alternative to the gatekeeping so prevalent in LFG culture. Only had 3 real rules for it. 
"Don't be racist, misogynist, or a bigot."
"Leave the toxcicity at the door"
"Don't cheat."
I was ten toes down on those rules.  Everything else would come in time if we built community up right.
Well, then came the bigots and I stood ten toes down defending people I counted as friends. 
And the community let them tear down what we had built, moved on, and left me holding the bag. 
So I started over. 
Tried to build a team, to teach people the hard content, to give them the skills to stand on their own, and to lead their own teams into new raids and dungeons. 

When the time came to do the hard work.  
To lead the way. 
They cheated. 
exploited. 
And copied other teams work instead of solving the puzzles themselves. 
So I just stopped. 
Stopped caring. 
Stopped working for them. 
Stopped supporting them. 
I stopped logging in. 
Stopped playing along. 
Stopped writing the stories about their guardians. 
Stopped sending money to replace their hardware or picking up other games for them to practice their skills in and hone their team work. 
Stopped managing the server. 
And when the toxicos started to show up that they brought thru the door I told them they had to clean their own house. 
And in the end?
I removed the toxicos myself, without explanation. 
Then I removed the cheaters without explanation.
Then, the ones that where left removed themselves and without explination.
And I moved on, to another project because I refuse to poor myself into communities that don't appreciate it anymore.  
Refuse to work for free building up communities for companies and groups that don't appreciate the work that goes into it.
Refuse to pay people that either didn't understand the assignment or did but didn't care enough to do it. 
Especially when I'm working on, literally a shoe string budget. 
Eating Ramen instead of Steak so that I would have the resources to support the community.
Paid out of pocket for everything myself, without the backing of a studio or company.

And with what the larger community is doing now?
They watched as the suits put their knee on the neck of the dev teams and creatives that poured themselves into the game despite the abuse that most of the community flung at them. 
And now that the body is going cold on the street they want to send thoughts and prayers to those very same teams that became jobless because of it. 
They continue to play Call of Duty and support the companies like Activation who created the culture that destroys such unique games. 
The suits behind the bean counters looking at their profit margins, not disappear... just not be unprofitable over the long term.  Their bonuses not be as high as they'd like while they continued to bring in salaries that tripled that of the hardest working coder. Then turn around and pretend that they didn't put the money that should have went into the dev teams and community into their own pockets. While, with full pockets, full bank accounts, and retirement plans that would make Midas blush said that the creatives didn't create enough, the community wasn't engaged enough.  Turned them out on the street when the profits that should have covered the short term slumps became cars, and art, and stock options instead of grocery money and residual payments for the people on who's backs these were built?

So yeah Sony.  

You going to let me put d3 development? 
Are you going to let me hire the team to build it?
Are you going to let me Unionize the teams so that they have a way of pushing back when the suites start to take advantage?  Start to steal from them? 

'cause that's the thing Sony. 
It's pride month. 
And that's the one thing that I and the various communities I built were able to carve out. 
A place where Pride was celebrated. 
A place where people refused to have a knee on their neck. 
A place where young people were safe to be themselves and were taught the critical thinking skills to build their own communities and how to handle the trolls and groomers and bigots that are so prevalent in other gaming communities. 

Don't believe I can do it? 
Look at the success of FFIV, Cyberpunk, No Man's sky, Fallout 76. 
They stuck to their guns despite what the suits had them do at launch. 
Continued to build the games they promised despite community backlash and C-suits pushing things out the door too soon. 
Hell, I think you even backed a couple of those. 
I know for a fact that the spider verse has been holding up their end of the bargain. 

Are you ready to hold up yours?
Because I'm hungry and ready to cook. 
I'm tired but nap when I need to. 
I'm sick, but still have time left.

So yeah Sony. 
Time to put the money where the mouth is. 
Time to build the next chapter. 
And this time.  
With me in the room. 
Instead of playing telephone and watching ya'll fumble what Live Service is supposed to mean and putting the wrong teams on the wrong projects. 
Can't say that last one is in your court. 
After all, you didn't put rocksteady on the Suicide Squad game.
Didn't try to turn simple multiplayer games into "Destiny Killers" 
All I'm asking is for a seat at the table. 
To represent the workers interest. 
And for ya'll to keep doing what you do. 
Make some bad ass hardware and let the creatives create for it. 
Otherwise I take Spidy and walk. 
Don't want to play that card.  
But you know I can.  

Your Move. 

Love
Jack. 

Out of the Shell

"Hey Jack, how's the D&D going?"
"It's not, hit the same snag it does in almost every other time I've run a game."
"Oh?  What's that?" 
"Players don't trust me to run a balanced game and the moment I actually enforce the rules that were explained from the start people think I'm being too harsh." 
"not going to give on this one?"
"Nope.  I've given enough already."
"So what's the plan?"
"Delete the group in VRC if no one wants to keep playing, probably delete the discord server since I'm the only one that really posts in there, and move on with my life."
"Even after all the work you've put into it?"
"Man.  I do this work all the time.  With no recognition or credit given.  It's nothing new,  I just made the mistake of letting people peek behind the curtain." 
"So what?'  You go non verbal again and give up on socialization?" 
"I mean, yeah.  Being verbal, open, and honest has just gotten me spit in the  face so many times."
"Have you tried being more likeable?" 
"Fuck off." 
"Hey, why are you attacking me?"
"Look.  I'm Autistic and Nonverbal most of the time.  The only reason I learned to speak as well as I do is because of this right here.  Learning to write and then reading it out loud.  Just because I'm able to speak on mic now doesn't change the fact that until the Pandemic I only started speaking on mic because I was going stir crazy and it was the only way I could talk to anyone about video games and what not.  That speaking on mic was absolutely terrifying.   That I had full blown panic attacks for the first six months of raiding in Destiny any time I had to say anything or do a callout."
"So what, you give up and go nonverbal again?" 
"Dunno. Probably."
"So you're just giving up?"
"Na dude.  That's the one thing I don't think I know how to do.  Withdrawl, recover, and move forward.  But as many in my past have learned, once they loose my trust Id on't look back."
"You can't keep cutting people off like that, they'll run out of people."  
"There's still plenty of people ahead of me in the games I want to play in, and if someone really wanted to earn my trust back they'd have to work their assess off to catch back up.  Because I'm slowing myself down anymore.  Every time I've tried to do that I ended up getting hurt physically, emotionally, or both." 
"So what?  You're telling people to lead, follow, or get out of the way/"
"Pretty much, because according the stats I'm at the half way point.  And with all the injuries and shit it's probably more than half way." 
"So your'e having a midlife crisis, is that the issue?""
"Look, some dudes buy sports cars and date 20 year olds.   I bought a computer and am trying to leave gaming spaces better than how I found them.  Sure, you can call that a midlife crisis, or you could call it me sticking to a mission statment I set decades ago.  If anything, the only 'crisis' i'm having is refusing to let people be disrespectful to me anymore and maintaining boundries that I should have been able to my whole life instead of only discovering that I actually could in the last few years."
"So you still going to just delete it all and start over gain?" 
"I fall, I get up. I dust myself off.  Make sure nothing's broken and keep going.  I'll write and rewrite and rewrite until it get's picked up."
"Shouldn't you finish it first?"
"Honey, I write the ending first every time and work backwards from there.  The rest is just filling in the holes and tailoring it to fit the budget." 
"you're accent's coming out Jack..."
"Oh yeah....that means I'm about to be the whole ass problem." 

The Camel and the Straw

It's funny. 
I thought I'd be more upset after the whole thing.   Removing everyone from the server that broke the rules.  
They were pretty simple.  
Help eachother achieve goals. 
 No hard carries.
No exploits.
Blind run new content and hunt the secrets.


"What's a hard carry?"
"Ah, someone not contributing to the activities.  Either sitting in the corner not participating or refusing to help with game mechanics when it takes a team to do it.  Sure there are people out there that can solo content but if I wanted to solo content I'd just play single player games.  Which I often do."
"So you just booted everyone out?""
"Mostly.  Some left when they realized other people had been removed. But I didn't enforce my bounderies for too long and people got used to crossing them. The one title I never earned was Sword Bearer.  All because of a challenge to get it done required focused team work. I know a couple people that lucked out with LFGs to do the challenge but I'd done more than enough time in those trenches trying to pull people together team.  To build a group taht wanted to do the hard stuff.  That I thought if I asked for help with something that required a team they'd come together for it. But in the end, they didn't.  Hell, I was left hanging so often thinking I'd done something wrong.  When the truth of the matter was, they got what they wanted out of me and left me on read when I asked for help."
"So what now then?"
"Well, there's a couple folks that wanted to play D&D that I'm running a game for in VR.   I didn't think I'd ever want to play another rpg like that, let alone run one, but here I am doing the thing.  It got me writing again, which is a whole different animal all together.  I always knew I'd write.  Can't really help it, it's the only way I really know how to organize my thoughts."
"Do you have a goal in mind for that?"
"Yeah show my chops, maybe get paid in the end."
"Paid how?"
"Well my tip Jars have been open this whole time thinking that if I worked hard enough I might end up with something in them, but with the whole Destiny thing I just felt like I was paying people to game with me instead of the other way around."
"You expected people to pay you to play a Video Game with them?"
"Na, I hoped people would pay me for the writing.  For the editing, for the work I did.  But why pay somebody when they're already doing it for free right?"
"Aren't you afraid that's what's going to happen with this D&D group?"
"Yeah, at first."  
"What changed your mind?"
"The fact that I was motivated to write again.  That this story that's been rattling around in my head for so long is finally getting the holes filled, the loose ends tied off, and words to paper for it.   Even if nothing comes of it I at least finally wrote the story."
"What's missing?"
"Well, I wrote the end.  Which is where I usually start.  I"ve outlined the major beats, written exerpts and built the lore.  Now it's just a matter of fillin in the missing pieces.  Making sure the way I present things makes sense, is grounded, and pays homage to the insperations rather than just being a copy of a copy of a copy." 
"How much work have you put into it so far?" 
"Well...Since I started? Nearly every waking hour I'm not writing on this blog or doing chores around the house.  Hell some days I go strait from the bed to the keyboard or into VR for insperation and research."
"Think you'll something will come out of it in the end."
"I hope so.  I don't have anything else left.  Just a bunch of toys no one wants. Some comics and cards I could probably sell if worse came to worse.  Which it looks like it is. And I haven't even had the time to read the comics yet."
"Didn't you already sell your comics off once?"
"Yeah, most of them, all of the ones from mmy child hood.  Gave up my reaserarch library.  All of the paperbacks and novels I spent my allounace on as a kid.   Hell, the only reason I have any of the stuff I do now is because I stopped drinking and started taking better care of myself.  But people don't like Sober Jack because Sober Jack doesn't hide the pain from them.  Sober Jack doesn't laugh off the fucked up jokes that aren't really jokes."
"Do you ever miss it?"
"What?"
"Drinking, partying, going out with people."
"No.  Hell I didn't even like it when i was doing it.  I just thought I had to.  Often was forced to.  I'm perfectly comfortable with my own company.   Mostly."
"Mostly?"
"Yeah. I've always been made to feel lazy, like I wasn't working hard enough.  that if I just worked a little harder then all my dreams would come true.  So I did. Got up earlier than every body else, trained harder, studied more, last one to go to bed but I realized over this last year, working on a broken hand and foot and still keeping up with everyone else.  That it didn't matter how hard I worked because as long as I worked that hard for free no one was going to pay me for it."
"So you're not working for free anymore?"
"Na, just part of who I am.  What I'm not doing for free anymore is hurting myself.  Pretending I"m okay to make people feel comfortable."
"So what's the plan then man?"
"Write.  Edit. Write some more. I've got about a weeks worth of food and water left.  Maybe less depending.  So I'm going to write until I run out."
"then what?"
"Fucked if I know.  Starve again probably because the banks aren't budging and I'm out of stuff to sell that anyone would want to pay anything for.  I don't have the materials to craft anything to sell.  And hell, even if I did I don't have a place to sell 'em so...."
"So what? You just give up?"
"Apparently because not giving up hasn't gotten me anything but taken advantage of. I live in a place that where I'm not valued as a person, where my writing is nothing someone couldn't just have an AI spit out for them as I've been reminded of over and over.  So yeah. Maybe I will just give up.  I've tried everything else."
"You're just feeling this way because of what time of year it is."
"Probably, but it doesn't make any of it less true."
"Well, you do have a ..."
"Shut the fuck up.  I don't want a pity party.  I want stability, the ability to support myself.  A way of paying my bills and rent that isn't going to keep destroying my body." 
So you write?"
"So I write." 

Ear on the Floor

I'm starting to understand how Van Gogh felt.  
Why he would cut off his own ear out of madness. 
It's beeing driven to paint in his case.   In mine being driven to write.   And endless stream of thoughts and ideas that flow through my fingers and out into a world that doesn't listen. 
And with the way the world is, the way that life is going.  The way the corporations take control of art with thei AI models and blantent theft all of this writing I've done,  all of the stories I've created will end up just disapearing into the ether. 
Seeing it taken and mutated into something that doesn't even convey the same emotion and feeling that was behind it's creation. 
I understand on a logical level that art is shaped by the viewer. 
That once it leaves an artists hands and is put out into the world it becomes something else. 
But as I sit here, yet again, working round the clock on projects that will probably just be stolen from me the way all the rest have I ask yself why keep going? 
Why keep trying? 
Why keep writing?
I poor everything I have into these thigns.  
My time, my energy, my resrouces. 
My sanity. 
And every turn.  
Every time I think I hae something to work with.  
Something to show for it I see people already there.  
Making a living doing what I was made to believe was a waste of time. 
Gatekeeping with one hand and robbing with the other. 
Some days the only thing that keeps me going is the writing. 
It's not a question of "Can I write something?"
It's a question of "Will I write?" 
And right now. 
As i type this, wishing for nothing more than to get some rest...some sleep but unable to because I don't know how i'm going to replace my tools as they continue to break.  How I'm going to refill my pantry as it dwindles yet again. 
Refusing to take a hand or call in debts that are owed to me.  
A part of me holds hope that there is some sort of justice in the world.  That I'll get to see it. 
But as the days turn into weeks and the years pass me by.  
The little flame of hope that keeps me going gutters in the breeze. 
A poet. 
A story teller. 
A singer of songs. 
Screaming into the void until my voice is raw and my heart in pieces. 
And only hearing silence in return. 
Yet still. 
I write. 
Because that is what I am. 

The Fires of Truth

"You ready there Jack?"
"Like a bull in the shoot with a nervous rider." 
"You scared?"

"Not even remotely." 
"Going to have to come out eventually." 
"I already did."
"Out of the basement troll."
"I'm just doing what Grandma told me to do."
"What's that?"
"Mind my business, spend $20 bucks on something that makes me happy, and celebrate my birthday all month." 
"What did you spend your $20 on?" 
"A portal effect that makes a black hole when I appear or disappear and sitting on the other $10 for if something else cool comes along." 
"Aren't you bored?"
"Na.  Believe it or not I actually like myself.  Moments of doubt certainly, especially when thinking about the past, but I'm perfectly happy down here with my cats."
"Is it everything you hoped?"
"I mean, close, but not quite." 
"How so?"
"I'd prefer to be doing the same thing in a cabin on top of a snowy mountain or a shack on a beach, but ya know.  We don't get everything we want in live, but we do get what we need." 
"Need anything."
"Just my heart back."
"Where's that Jack?"
"Safe last I checked."
"When was that?"
"Mind your business." 
"Whoa...I've never heard your voice like that before."
"..."
"Is your eye twitching?"
"What were we talking about again?"
"...ummm...your birthday?"
"Oh yeah, I hate that thing?"
"Why?"
"Because it always falls on or around Memorial day, and as I've gotten older it's just gotten more poignant. How can I celebrate my own fortune when there are so many empty seats at the table.?"
"Plenty of people that would fill those seats you know?"
"I know...but..."
"No buts."
"Listen. I have the rest of my life to pat myself on the back and be congratulated for not dying and being a self centered ass hat."
"You're going to have to do interviews"
"Yeah, I know.  That's what the VR is for. to Prep me. talking to people, answering awkward questions.  You know, like a flight sim for a pilot." 
"Why aren't you helping out more around the farm and such." 
"I'm on strike, pretty simple."
"Why on Strike?"
"Because they weren't listening and listening to them was doing me more harm than good." 
"So where you going first when you finally emerge from your stinky ass room?"
"Yeah, it is getting pretty dank in here. After I scrub and disinfect everything though, the next county commissioners meeting to slam my dick on the table."
"They aren't the same commissioners  that destroyed the farms Jack."
"Sure there bud"
"You know you need their approval to rebuild the farm."
"I mean, yeah, but I ain't going to ask." 
"Calm down there Jack."
"I am calm."
"Why are you scarier calm than worked up?" 
"Because when I'm worked up I'll walk away, when I'm calm I'm ready to fight."
"With your words I hope."
"The pen is mightier than the sword."
"Why not the bank, or the accountants before the commissioners?"
"Because I'm not going to sink everything I got into a Project I can't get approval for.  Last thing I need is saddled with loans that aren't going to get paid back or employees that I can't pay." 
"What happened to Grandma's philosophy of 'It's better to ask for forgiveness than permission'? "  
"I've already forgiven myself.  Hardest thing I've ever done. And I won't beg for forgiveness from people that do not wish to give it.  It's not my right to invalidate their feelings." 
"So you're just going to sit there then? Playing in VR and doom scrolling?'
"Writing, remembering those that won't be there when we finally all sit around the table, getting the anxiety under control."
"Who's we Jack?"
"The Guild."
"Which Guild."
"My guild.  Did I ever tell you where the name came from?"
"I think so?  Calvin and Hobbes right?"
"Yep." 

One Billion Dollars.

 When I was a kid, little little, my family trained horses.  

Grandpa and one of the uncles was a Jockey.  Pops was a bull rider, auntie was barrel racer, another uncle was a quick draw guy.   So rich folks would bring their horses for training and stabling.   The farm was built over 100 years ago.  Grandma and Grandpa, an Italian woman and an Irish boy, bought the farm in the 50's after Grandpa got out of the military.   He was pistoleer.  Could hit a playing card dead center and a hundred yards. 

Now, I thought this story was bullshit until one day when he was starting to get sick he saw a skunk out across the road.  About 50 yards out, he told me to go ask Grandma for his pistol and to bring it to him.  

He leaned against the house and took a single shot, severing the skunks spine so it wouldn't spray.  

No joke. 

Anyways.  

The farmers around here always helped each other out.  Hell, I was bucking hay at 7 years old.  Pushing hay bails bigger than I was across the hay loft to the big guys so they could stack em. 

Well, some of the farmers started to get old and passing away.  And they had a deal setup with each other where they'd auction off their land so it would be fair to all the neighbors. 

Well, first the horse pasture went for up for auction.  

And some rich prick rolled in and put more money on the table than the farmers could pull together.   He put a house on it.  So with no where to pasture the horses we still did a little bit of care, stabling of the family's  couple of horses, but that was it. 

Then the well water became undrinkable because these big factory farmers started spraying so much pesticide it poisoned the groundwater. 

The farm aged with Grandpa. 
Not well. 

So pops made a deal with one of the neighbors that owned the hay field for half of it in exchange for working on the property.   They built up a water shed to feed a new well system.   Pops built a garage and he and the rest of the fam moved into it and lived there for nearly 10 years while they saved the money to build a house while I was off playing super hero. 

Well, the neighbor died of cancer, the land went for auction.  

Same thing happened. 

Except this time an old rich dude bought the land and just started dumping old cars out there and letting the property go to trash.  We cleaned things up, cleared his field of thistles so it could be hayed.  Etc. 

Then he started getting sick and we were like "yo, we want to buy the property."  instead he fenced the fishing pond off so a different neighbor could let their cows roam on it.  Problem is, those cows are now shitting in the water shed that feeds the drinking water. 
So we'll be back to hauling water soon because of it.  

Grandma passed away this last summer.  Grandpa about 15 years ago. And now grandma's house is going up for auction in August. 

My hope is that I can come up with $10 million.  So I can buy grandma's house on auction and restore/repair/update it. And partner with the local colleges to turn it into a vet school.   Kansas State is an Agricultural school. Kansas University a Medical school, Emporia a teaching college, and Washburn a Law School. 

So I'd want to staff it with students after all the work is done. 

Because when the railroad tracks came out the rail road land was supposed to revert back to the surrounding farms, but instead the county turned it into a walking trail.  So it's in a perfect place to act as a trail head for riders and people with pets. 

That crazy plan and budget I outlined in the first few months of being back in the area, is a build plan for if I can get the farm and the fields near it. 
I want to turn them into an agricultural campus that partners with those four universities. 

Imagine that dude.  

A vet's office for horses and other critters on the old farm, then taking a field that poisoned the drinking water and turning it into a working farm/festival grounds with a year round farmers market. 

The jobs it would make, the history it would teach....

Anyways.  

That's my mad plan.  

To restore the land to it's farming roots and teach future generations about what it takes to run their own farms.  

A market/diner in the old farm house fed by the farm.  The old stable barn turned into the vet's office.  The old hay barn turned into dorms.  And the old grain silo turned into an observatory for astronomy classes. 

Then out in the field a permeant structure renaissance festival that is a working farm with weekly markets and seasonal events. 

On property housing for staff when they're working, classrooms for teaching about how the farm works, theater classes, concerts on the decks of pirate ships, markets under a small castle and inn and a tavern for guests.  And all of it feeding people and teaching them the skills to carry into their own lives and projects. 

Then, if I can pull this one off, I have plans for the local speedway that was shut down because they built a new on in Kansas City and moved everything there.

But yeah.  

First though, I have to buy the farm, because Grandma put it in the will to sell so her kids wouldn't fight over it.

Then the field(s). 
Crude markings on the maps because I just pulled them together, but they go along with this more detailed explanation and the budget proposal for construction. 

The plan to fund the fair ground construction is to partner with Movie studios to build different parts in exchange for filming rights for what ever projects they want to film there. (personally I want to make a  another D&D movie) but that's the rad part about filming. Is that you can use the same locations over and over for different projects as long as you film it from different angles.

That's what the "backlots" in Hollywood are. 

So I'm literally wanting to build a backlot for fantasy shows and movies that's a working farm. 

Ain't I a Stinka?

"So Jack.  Where are you at on A.I.?"
"Still think businessmen don't understand what it's good for other than making money and trying to socially engineer people."
"So you're against A.I.?"
"Yes and No.   Yes I'm against in the arts because artistic expression is the expression of  Human experience.  No when using it to model the climate to better plan for storms." 
"What about the Labor disruptions coming."
"Disruptions or balancing?  A.I. could be used in mining robots to keep miners out of the depths.  To avoid child labor pulling out the resources for the batteries and technology we use every day. It's not that A.I, if properly handled, would get rid of Human Jobs, but will take over the jobs to dangerous for humans"
"What about people worried about making a technological slave race."
"Well, A.I. and A.C. are two very different things."
"A.C?" 
"Artificial Conciseness. That's the snake oil these tech bros are trying to sell you using, essentially a very fancy, Mechanical Turk. 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mechanical_Turk

Trust, a good magician can spot a fake a mile away.  Maybe not exactly how it's done but given time can figure it out and if I were the type to code I could probably create a rudimentary A.I. model on a calculator. In fact people used to all the time."
"No way, not on a calculator." 
"They were getting Doom running on Calculators when I was young person and enemy A.I. as it's been called in the gaming industry since...well since the shooter genre came about...which is over 30 years is just a scaled down version of what they're doing with these Large Language models.  So yeah.  Running A.I. on calculators.  Artificial Consciences on the other hand, a machine with actual animal intelligence.  That's hypothetically possible if Quantum Computing has been cracked, and if they're using that to run an A.I. Model then I'd be looking at my printer sideways right now." 
"You're printer?"
"Yeah, what's the old joke?  'An enthusiast loves all their smart tech, their smart house, their smart phone etc. Tech workers keep a gun next to their printer incase it makes a sound they don't like.'  Or some such"  

"Okay, then what about Labor disruptions?" 
"That's pretty strait forward.  We return our roots, the jobs that the 80's and 90's tried to convince us where less than.  The blue collar work, the trades work, the educational work, the farm work.  Those jobs still exist, they were just devalued in favor of office culture and playing in financial markets.  Those are the jobs that A.I. can do that no one wants to talk about.  The tabulations and meetings that could have been an e-mail sorts of jobs.  We still need to educate people though, so they understand how it all works, can repair and update when needed.  The engineers building the hardware and testing to make sure it actually works v.s. the C-suites trying go make their bottom lines look bigger."
"So you think people will still be able to find work?"
"Oh yeah, even something as mindless and simple as picking trash up off of the side of the road.  Those jobs still need done, the U.S. just uses Slave Labor for it instead of actual paid workers, because the jobs and the people that do them where systematically devalued. To the point that a lot of folks from Gen X and my own age think those things are just magically done for them. While the jobs that couldn't be devalued where moved into places where Labor was the only value they were seen to have.  The Farm work that couldn't be done by machines forced onto migrants who had no other choice if they wanted to feed themselves and their families.  Their voices silenced in the halls of power by people that wanted to keep their slave labor over rolling up their sleeves themselves. That's not hyperbole, they are more than vocal about it when they think they're in a position to get away with it." 
"Jack...don't you do it."
"Oh yeah."
"No...I see where you're going with this."
"Hey man, people want the economy fixed and justice for their loved ones."
"Stop now and you won't get hurt."
"Oh honey, I've already been hurt.  You're just threatening me with a good time at this point." 
"No one will ever go for it."
"Go for what."
"I can see it in that shit eating grin of yours. You want to unionize prison workers."
"Fair wage for fair work."
"Shut the fuck  up."
"After all they are fast-food workers, roadside laborers, firefighters.  And a multitude of other jobs deemed 'less than'  when these jobs were all, by the 45's administration no less, essential workers.  So which is it, are they essential workers or Slave Labor.  Because right now, they're slave labor being used in essential work." 
"God damn it."
"After all, Union Reps are already used to defending the jobs of people they often would rather not because at their core, no matter how narrow minded or ignorant they might be in their personal lives they still fight to make sure everyone they work with is taken care of.  I'm not saying we give people legitimately guilty of crimes a free pass.  I'm just saying we don't take advantage of what they can still contribute and an honest wage for the work they do while being rehabilitated.  Hell, I'd wager most of the prison deaths from 'prisoner on prisoner' violence can be attributed to either defending a lack of resources like toiletries and decent food.  Or because they're forced into doing some overly moneyed dick holes bidding in exchange for their own safety." 
"Your points are valid but not popular."
"Was never shooting for popular or right, just correct.  People like popular, they want to be right, but have a hard time being correct when told they're wrong." 
"PWU"
"You son of a bitch."
"Hey man, if all the Unions and Guilds of the world stopped working for a day.  Just one day, all at the same time.  There would a hush over the planet even the most insolated of billionaires would notice. And if their voices all united at the same time a thunder that would even make the gods quake in fear and echo through history as a message of hope to future generations." 
"They're going to try to kill you you know.  People are going to get hurt because of you."
"Who's They? 'cause They already have and it didn't take.  So every day I suck breath is a message to those that are struggling to keep going.  Every day I hear a laugh or see a smile is a gift. And every story I tell that people listen to is hope they can carry with them through their own troubles."
"You tell a lot of dark stories there Jack."
"There are children that live in warzones, soldiers that survived them, and refugees that fled them.  To them, my stories seem like fairy tales compared to their own lived experiences." 
"Go touch Grass, you've been a basement troll to long."
"Would love to, but I'm on Strike until I can go to the doctor and dentist, until I can pay my debts, and until I can pay my teams." 
"You still seem to be doing an awful lot of writing and question answering for someone on strike."
"Duties and responsibilities are two very different things my friend." 
"How so?"
"Responsibilities are things you take care of when you can, and hope other's take care of it when you can't."
"And Duty?"
"Heavier than a mountain when death is light as a feather."
"So what are your duties then?"
"I'm a Librarian.  Finding sources, answering questions, and telling stories." 
"You aren't working at a Library right now and you still don't have an MLS." 
"Doesn't stop me from doing the homework and researching my papers until then."

"Speaking of, where are you with that whole Gravity equation you were going on about a bit ago."
"Oh, yeah, hard to focus on through the pain sometimes but I've made a bit of headway on  how to explain it if not proofing the math.  Just need some data verified first."
"So...what's the explanation?"
"Gravity is the Medium in which the universe exists.  Smashing particles together is neat, but how do they come back together is the question.  Because if they come back together on their own, so to speak, even if it isn't with the exact same particles, would be proof that Black Holes are actually just supermassive particles and not some magic worm hole some people think they are."
"Okay?"
"Think about it like breathing.  The Breathing Universe hypothesis I roughed out in my original draft of the Theorem.  When you breath in, you breath in the particles around you, you expel them back into the environment after they've served their purposes within the body.  Trick is each inhale pulls in the same consistency of particles from the surrounding environment.  In different measures, mixed with the previously expelled particles, along with newer or older particles of the same materials if not the exact same particles themselves refreshed by the surrounding environment."
"And you think you can prove that with a simple equation." 
"Well yeah, the opposite of the entropic equation.  Entropy measures the loss of particles and energy.  Where as, I would argue, Gravity-a function of velocity and rotation-it's by product gravitational and electromagnetic waves is the opposing force to entropy.  
The balance of the equation. 
Sure not as simple and elegant as E=MC² but no less proof able assuming that the smashed particles in the Large Hadron Collider do, in fact, start to re converge over time.  Either by collision or attraction, probably a combination of both."
"And, you can give a currently observable example of this?"
"Does water run down hill?" 

Level 44

"Jack.  You don't have any governmental experience.  Why do you think you would be effective in office."
"Have you ever seen the anime "solo leveling?"  or maybe "Kaiju No. 8?"   
"Can't say that I have." 
"And that's why you don't think I have experience."
"How do two anime have anything to do with govermental experience?"
"Well, let's roll the clock back to me as a kid.  I spent my summers and free time working with my father and grandfather on public infrastructure projects. Replacing sewer lines, pouring concrete, and laying asphault.  So i'm intimatly familiar with what it takes to do an infrastructure project.  As a young adult in post 9-11 America I was a ground security coordinator at an international airport working alongside Law Enforcment and Military personell to keep air travel safe.  In my 30's I was a public Librarian in a county where the commissioners were doing everything they could to shut them down and hevily defunding the Sherrifs department, and worked to deligitimize public transportation while they increased their own compensation.  I worked alongside the community to secure the Libraries funding protect them from the County Commisioners.  And every step of the way learning about Law, Ecoonomics, Community infrastructure, and Tax Codes."
"And recently?  No one has seen or heard from you in years."
"No one that knew me before certainly, but I've been active in the gaming community working on getting my social anxieties under control so that if/when I found myself in public office I'd be able to keep that anxiety in check and work with people that I heavily disagree with while searching out people that share ideals and goals with myself." 
"Video games, really?"  
"Well, in the Destiny community my team and I built a network of Raid Sherpas that opened the gates to new players and old players that didn't have their own teams.  But unlike many Sherpa communities we avoided teaching exploits in favor of teaching the mechancis.  We made sure everyone was active and not just relegated to sitting in the corner or running the content on their accounts for them.  So that when they finished a raid with us, or not, they felt confident enough in their builds and abilities to enter the more toxic aspect of the LFG raid community to seak their own teams the way we did.  And now I'm working to do the same in VRChat.  While at the same time learning from the community that exists there and being reminded that no matter how good I am at what I do, there's always people better than me at other aspects of the same thing.  Rather humbling really, but I wouldn't trade the experience for anything."
"I don't think video games can prepair you for governmental responsibilities."
"Okay bud, you go in there and do what I do.  See how you fair.  I give you a day.  Week at most.  Month tops.  Before you rage quit or get your account band because the communitiy pegs you as a narc or spy." 
"Why don't they hit you with that?"
"Oh, believe you me if I wasn't who I was.  Litereally there for the love of the game while at the same time trying to prove I have the communites best intrests in mind they would have.  Hell, some coreners still try, but how is that any different than being in the Shark infested waters of Politics?  People taking shots at you because they can, don't agree with what you're saying, or think you're being insincere.  Learning to work with people ethically opposed, or working from a position of weaponized mistrust because of the abuse they've already suffered at the hands of people trying sell them the same thing I've been working to build with them." 
"And what's the Mem?"
"Ha, so you have been following what I've been doing."
"Ya got me."
"You watch those anime yet then?"
"No, never watched anime before I've heard it's full of questionable content."
"No more or less than any other genre of animation."
"Long and short of it is that in Solo Leveling someone having to do what they do to help their family no matter how detrimental to their own well being ends up becoming the most powerful in their field because of continuing to work on their own.  And instead of becoming cruel like many that do with that level of power uses it to help and uplift them, turning foes into alies."
"And Kaiju No. 8?" 
"An older dude who works on a clean up crew after monster attacks suddenly finds himself with extrodinary power to fight the monsters while teaching the younger members of the team how knowledge and co-operation can be more effective than over powering force." 
"I've heard your name associated with My Hero Acadamia.  What's that about?"
"No matter how dark or dire the circumstances doing what you can.  With a smile.  And uplifting those that will take your place when age, exhaustion, or injury make it no longer possible to be the hero everyone looks to for guidence."
"And youre uh...hobbies?"
"Ah, yeah, those.  Spoilers aside, those have been about finding a way to offer hope.  Telling stories that anyone could see themselves in. After all, isn't that what Stan said about Spider-Man?  Anyone could be under the mask, Peter Parker just happened to be his own stand in." 
"Going to clean up your Language if you get elected?"
"If the occasion requires it I can temper my tongue and speak with elegance but I won't stop being me if that's what you're asking."
"The beard and hat?" 
"Ha.  Not a chance. I'll take the hat off out of respect or mourning but it stays on.  I'm fairly certain I can find one that stays within the Uniform Code. The folks in VRC already put together an outfit for me that I think will work.  Not a fan of carrying the guns, but then that's the responsibility.  A heavy weight that you wouldn't wish on anyone to carry so you carry it yourself until you can find someone to help you carry it or to take it up if it becomes too much.  Won't cut the beard or hair unless it becomes  safety issue.  But I'd argue that those two things show my sincerity and respect for the communities I'm hoping will trust me not to do to them what my predicssors have one."
"You say that like you've already got the job."
"Fake it til you make it."
"But you don't want that responsibility, why do all of this?"
"I think JFK said.  'Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country.'"  And I have a rare combination of skills that have the potential to make me succesful where others have failed and the ability to open doors for people that have never had them opened for them before."
"Sounds like a White Savior complex."
"More like recognizing where I come from and the world I live in and what I can do to help change that.  Besides, no matter what these Jackasses in power might try to convince you of none of this is a single player or comp game.  It's co-op with friendly fire, and as many of my teammates have learned over the years I don't put up with friendly fire.  Purposful or accidental." 
"Besides I'm just going to be there to Grade papers and answer questions.  End wars if I can, prevent new ones if I can't, and by the end of it everyone gettitng a chance to visit the moon one way or the other."
"You're obssessed with space aren't you?"
"Just a kid that was promised the moon, given the shit stick in it's place, and trying to make things right for myself and others. If there's someone else out there with a similar background they're probably too smart to do something this dumb."
"You think running for the highest office is dumb?"
"Only a fool thinks they are the only ones that can do the job, and only a narcissit that thinks they know what's best for everyone."
"Isn't that what you're doing?"
"Na man, I'm just the doorman."
"China?"
"Competetor not enemy."
"Ukraine?" 
"Russia needs something, I tend to find out what even though I'm pretty sure I already know and hopefully get the shooting to stop at the same time."
"Isreal?"
"The weapons were meant for defense not offense and that's a mess we're all responsible for cleaning up."
"Iran?"
"A new world Nuclear agreement with regulations even the U.S. will adhere too."
"Grocery prices."
"Africa" 
"going to mind my buisness and offer help where they need it in the form of 'Docs and Chow'"  got a friend in North Africa I want to check in on and make sure is doing okay.  If not, do my best to honor his life's work." 
"Mexico?"
"Work on an E.U. style travel arrangement with both them and Canada."
"Central and South America?"
"Well, first I've got to have a sit down with the Cartels and see if they'll trust me enough to help them properly clearn things up and then help form the A.U."
"A.U.?" 
"American Union.  Indipendent nations working together on common goals, free trade, free travel, open markets."
"You really think you can pull all of that off in a single term?"
"If I've done the prep work right, yeah.  If not I still have to try."
"Why?"
"Because, my 10 year old self needed to believe people like my 40 year old self exists.  Succesful or not, we try.  Use the constitution as a road map, the voices of our ancestors to show us the errors, and the promise of a better world for our decendents the guiding star."
"Seems hopeful."
"Yeah, I mean, someone else ran on that platform already i'm just standing on it."
"So what is your platform then?"
"Foundations."